Escaping Home (26 page)

In the Before, my girls were always good. No trouble with boys, drugs or drinking. The only addiction they ever had was to technology. The Internet, iTunes and whatnot were their constant companions. They were of that generation, the ones born into these things. To them, Googling something was second nature, not like when I grew up and the encyclopedia held all the answers. Hell, they had no idea what an encyclopedia was. But even without their technological luxuries, they were rolling with the punches. It was easiest on Little Bit; she was young enough that that stuff hadn't been too big a part of her life yet.

Food. Food is always on everyone's mind. Maybe this is how it used to be, but we've gotten into the habit of eating only twice a day. Not because of a lack of food, really, more because of the effort acquiring and preparing a meal took in our primitive condition. We weren't starving, but food preservation wasn't what it once was. We did have a DC fridge run by the solar system, but it was small. Small as it may be, it was a godsend. I would venture to guess we were the only ones for a hundred, maybe two hundred miles with a working fridge.

While life was simpler, it was physically harder. Maybe that's how we were supposed to live. Maybe we'd grown soft in our technological wonder of a life. For better or worse, for now and for the foreseeable future, that wonder was gone. In the Now, we had to try and recover some of the lost wisdom of those who came before us. I only hoped we were half as ingenious as they were.

S
arge sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, and looked at Sheffield. “What do you think?”

Sheffield looked at the crudely drawn map on the table before him. “I think we need a little more info. It's a big-ass target.”

“You've got enough men. We'll have to hit them hard and fast, use the shock to our advantage.”

Sheffield rubbed his chin. “I don't know. We have any idea how many men they got in there?”

“Nothing realistic, we're going to have to do some recon first to get an idea of their strength.”

“That I agree with, we're definitely going to have to get some eyes on it. I wish we had some assets we could use.”

Sarge sat up, leaning his elbows on the table. “I have a little something.”

Sheffield raised his eyebrows. “Really? What?”

“I've got a recon vehicle, like a big ATV. It's got a mast I can put up with a camera. Night-vision and thermal capable. If we find the right place, we can stand off and have eyes on the target.”

“I like that. . . . keep some distance between us and them.” Sheffield looked at the map again and tapped it with his finger. “I'd like to make a more accurate map too. Draw something with a little more detail.”

“We can do that. One of my guys has been through the marine scout sniper school. I'll let him take care of that,” Sarge said.

Sheffield nodded. “One of our guys has been through it too. Maybe we could team them up and let them handle the recon. They can do the best range drawing, estimate ranges and all.”

“That's a good idea. Send a small security detail with them, maybe keep a quick reaction force nearby in case they get their dicks caught in their zippers.”

“Excellent. So a little more intel, and we'll get a plan in action.” Sheffield sat back in his chair. “When do you want to start?”

Sarge stood up with a grin on his face. “Soon as you can get that marine dressed and his hair combed.”