From Within (17 page)

“Not after over twenty miles of hiking,” Will said.

Alejandro lunged towards Will. His hand swiped down and brushed Will’s shirt as he jumped out of the way. They were both laughing.

“See,” Will called out as he ran around a tent, “you gotta catch me first.”

*****

As the sun was setting that evening, everyone helped organize the camp with the remaining light of the day. They made sure to secure all of their food in the case a bear or other wildlife decided to visit. They built up their fire so they could have a nighttime hangout. The fire could help provide light before they went to bed so they could conserve batteries in the few flashlights that they brought. They had discussed using sunset as a bedtime, at Lewis’s suggestion, to help conserve batteries and the work needed to cut so much firewood. They all liked the idea, but of course, no one was tired at sunset.

Everyone was getting cozy in their spots around the fire. Lea went into the woods to use the bathroom and Beth quickly took her spot next to Will. Lea and Will had been alone on one side of the fire. They hadn’t gotten the alone time they did before the world changed and they both thought it could eventually wear down on their relationship. Will was surprised at his mother taking the seat since they hadn’t really talked at all after the incident with Tanner.

“Hi Will,” she said.

“Mom,” he said while nodding his head.

“Listen, Will, I’m sorry,” she said. “I know I blamed you for killing Tanner, but I know I shot him several times.”

“Mom, it’s okay. I know he was a friend of yours.”

She interrupted him. “Let me finish,” she said and paused, “please.”

Will nodded to tell her to continue.

“I know he would have died of his wounds. I now know he needed to be finished off more quickly. I don’t know what you heard when you came upon us, but the other man that you shot was talking about raping Lea.”

“I know,” he said quietly.

“Tanner had become a part of that. I hope I’m not just trying to justify it in my mind. I keep playing it over and over in my head. I do have sympathy for him still too. My feelings are so mixed. I’m glad he didn’t have to suffer. I know he needed to die, but at the same time I’m sad that I lost a friend.”

“I understand, Mom. I don’t think things are going to be easy any time soon. Something like this is going to stick with us for a long time. I had nightmares about it already.”

“Me too,” she said.

“This new world...or life...or whatever it is, has come as a shock to everyone. I was talking about this with Lea. Until our society is hopefully reestablished, there are no police or military or judges or juries. That is our job now. We just have to always keep ourselves accountable to make sure we are making the right decisions.”

Beth smiled. “Your father and I raised you right.”

Will smiled too, but the thought of his father saddened him. He and his mother gave each other a big hug. Lea had returned sometime during their conversation and was standing to the side, smiling at them.

Everyone remained quiet for quite a while. They all stared into the fire, watching the flames jump into the air. The only sound to be heard was the crackling and popping of the fire.

Marcus shouldered his bag as he walked from his Conex container. He couldn’t tell if it was too early or too late. All he knew is that it was still dark and he was way too tired to be awake. His feet shuffled against the dirt from time to time. As Marcus turned on to one of the larger walkways in the camp, he suddenly noticed all the people rushing around. Large, blinding, generator-powered light towers illuminated the corridor. He stopped and looked around. He wondered if this sort of thing happened often. He thought it could be part of the logistics of running a camp this size. It was like a grocery store having to stock shelves in the middle of the night.

“Marcus,” a voice said.

Marcus looked around to find the source. As he turned he saw Blake approach him.

“Hey Blake,” Marcus said. “Why are there so many people running around at this hour?”

“I had been wondering the same thing myself,” Blake said. “What I’ve found so far is that a lot of the higher ups around here are heading out to Colorado...to Cheyenne Mountain.”

“Cheyenne Mountain?” Marcus said, surprised. “The military installation?”

“Yeah,” Blake replied. “I think the flight you are catching this morning is being rerouted to Colorado Springs.”

“Hmm,” Marcus said as he began to think over the rapidly changing events. “Well, I was supposed to be stopping in Denver. Colorado Springs isn’t too far off.”

Marcus had immediately thought that this ‘next step’ was about to take place. He wanted to warn Blake, but he still wasn’t sure if Blake actually worked for Thomas or if he was working for Anthony and he was trying to find out what he knew. And what about Thomas? Surely the CMA knew about Thomas and the ARF. Would they choose his ranch as a bombing location?

“There are so many strange things that seem to happen with the CMA,” Blake said as he shook his head. “Well, you better get to that flight. Keep me posted on whatever is happening if you can.”

“Will do.”

Blake walked off in a hurry. Marcus continued to the administrative tent to meet his ride to the nearby airfield. He arrived to a bustle of activity that was exponentially greater than what he’d already seen that morning. He somehow managed to push his way through the crowd of CMA uniformed personnel. Once in the tent, he found someone holding a clipboard, directing people. He queried the man and was told which number Humvee he would be riding in and where he could find it.

Once he found the Humvee and got settled in, he was surprised to be joined by other CMA people. They packed in tighter than sardines. Since their vehicle filled quickly, they headed off to the nearby airfield. This Humvee was going to return back to the camp to get another load of people. Most of Marcus’s flights out of the area were always in helicopters that would depart and arrive directly at the camp. He had been to the small airfield a few times prior. He was surprised this time to see the vast number of larger jet aircraft along the small ramp. The tiny regional terminal building was dwarfed by the varying number of Gulfstreams, Globals, Falcons, and other large private jets.

Marcus found another clipboard-wielder and was guided to board a Global Express. He settled into his seat. It had to have been the nicest and most luxurious aircraft he had ever been on. He had the privilege of flying on some private jets, Lears and Citations, throughout his career. WWNL owned a few. None of them were like this. His seat had to be more comfortable than any recliner that had ever sat in his own living room. He saw a flight attendant move row to row placing coffee next to all the passengers. He quickly grabbed up the cup that was set on the table before him.

As Marcus sipped the silky smooth liquid, a hand set down on his shoulder. He jumped slightly.

“Mr. Braden,” a voice said.

Marcus turned, “Oh, Anthony, you surprised me.”

“Sorry,” Anthony said. “I didn’t realize you’d be joining us on this aircraft. It’s typically reserved for senior CMA staff.”

“Oh,” Marcus began, “well...I was directed to get on here. Should I be on another flight?”

“No,” Anthony said, “I’m sure you were told correctly. I’m glad you are here. I can update you on the changes to your trip now rather than when we arrive in Colorado Springs.”

“I go to Denver from there, right?”

“Wrong,” Anthony said. “That is what has changed. Mara, from the meeting the other day, now wants you in California.”

Marcus gulped. He hoped it hadn’t shown. “She said there were a lot of problems there.”

“Yes. And that’s why we need you out there. You’ll focus on getting people in camps so they can be helped. The humanitarian side of things.”

As opposed to the military side of things
, Marcus thought.

“Whatever I can do to help,” Marcus said with a fake smile.

“Excellent,” Anthony said. “You’ll be hopping on a King Air once we get to Colorado Springs. It’ll take you the rest of the way. Most of our jet aircraft have been designated for other purposes at the moment.”

“Yeah, what’s with all the jets here? And why Colorado Springs?” Marcus asked.

“Just some big meetings that the senior staff wants everyone at. Not to worry. The King Air is a very suitable and comfortable aircraft as well. Definitely not the size of this, but certainly does the job.

“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” Marcus said. “I was just curious. I’ve never been on something like this.”

Anthony nodded in acknowledgment. He handed Marcus an updated itinerary and then made his way to his own seat. Marcus shifted in the plush seat to watch out the window. Soon after their departure, the cabin was served a full breakfast of eggs and sausage and fruit. Marcus devoured his. Being up at these early hours seemed to make him hungrier than normal. Even after a few cups of coffee Marcus was able to nod off to sleep for the rest of the flight.

*****

Marcus was awoken by the touchdown and slight screech of the wheels meeting the pavement. He stretched in his seat and began gathering his things. He couldn’t believe that he slept for the few hours it took to fly across the country. Once they stopped on the ramp everyone stood and collected their bags. Marcus stayed seated as he usually did until he was able to start walking down the aisle.

Marcus shouldered his bag as he stepped off the stairway and onto the ramp. He looked around hoping to see another uniformed CMA employee holding a clipboard. It had been useful earlier that morning in directing everyone where they should be. He was disappointed that he couldn’t see anyone with that description. He started to walk towards what he hoped was a terminal building when he was stopped by Anthony.

“Your King Air flight looks like it’s over there on the ramp,” Anthony said jamming a thumb behind him.

“Thank you,” Marcus said.

He turned around and headed towards the twin-turboprop. Marcus thought that Anthony didn’t seem as friendly as he was when they were boarding the plane. No matter, he was happy that he wouldn’t see him for probably a week or so.

Hopefully, I’m able to get out of California before any bombing starts
, Marcus thought.
No bombing at all would be even better. I hope they’ll need to fill those camps for the slave labor before they continue with their plan.

Marcus wasn’t sure if the King Air was normally flown by only one pilot, but his flight definitely only had one. He was also the only passenger. He supposed he wasn’t important enough in the CMA to be invited to the big meeting happening at Cheyenne Mountain. He wondered if it was just a meeting or if they were fleeing to the safety of the underground complex.

Despite the coffee he had on the first flight and the soda he just drank on this one, Marcus felt a fatigue settling over him as he watched the endless mountains pass beneath. He glanced down at the empty can in his hand. He didn’t recognize the off-brand. Maybe there wasn’t any caffeine in it. Maybe it was the lack of conversation with the pilot and the constant droning of the propellers that was lulling him to sleep. He tried to stay awake by site-seeing out of the window. He knew it wouldn’t work. The tiredness that beheld him that day was just way too strong. He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep. He knew that it had happened quickly.

Marcus awoke confused. His vision was blurry. He squinted his eyes trying to focus. He felt drowsy. He only ever felt this way if he had taken Benadryl or cold medicine. How long had he slept? Why was it so loud? He could hear the propellers as if were inside the plane. The sound of rushing air was so loud and intense that he couldn’t hear himself think. He rubbed his eyes with both hands and blinked a few times. The blurriness was fading. His eyes settled on the doorway. Rather, where the door should have been. Adrenaline shot through his system at the sight of the open doorway. The hormone quickly began to clear the drowsiness from Marcus’s system.

Marcus unbuckled and stood. The seat in front of him must have been blocking some of the rushing wind because when he stood his hair started to whip around wildly. His tie flapped annoyingly all around randomly. Marcus tucked it into his shirt in between two of the buttons. He yelled out to the pilot. Had something happened to him during the flight? He held on to the seats as he stepped slowly up the aisle. He shifted his head from the right to the left trying to see if the pilot were laying to one side or the other. He couldn’t see him at all. He reached the back of the cockpit seats. No pilot. Marcus’s heart skipped a beat when he noticed the yoke tied in place with what looked like rock-climbing rope.

Scenarios started racing through Marcus’s head. This clearly looked like they were getting rid of him. The pilot must have parachuted out of the plane. The opening door was probably what woke him. The drowsiness? Did they drug him? He looked back at the can laying on his seat. The strange soda. Chances were that he drank twelve ounces of Benadryl or something similar. He turned back to the cockpit. Everything looked normal to him for the time being, but he was no pilot. The left seat had the tied up yoke so he sat in the right seat. He tried the yoke in that seat. It was stiff as if it were also tied.

Makes sense
, he thought.
Why would the two yokes control different things
?

He shifted in the seat and leaned lower to start working on untying the rope. An alarm sounded which seemed to trigger a few more alarms. He looked at the instrument panel. A flashing red ‘FUEL’ light made him widen his eyes. The other flashing light said ‘ENGINE’. He quickly looked out of the window off his right. He could tell the propeller wasn’t being powered. It was still turning, windmilling due to the speed. He looked back to the panel to the gauge that said ‘AIRSPEED’. It needle was slowly coming back. He could feel the aircraft begin a slight turn even with the yoke tied tightly. The one working engine must be powering it in that direction. Marcus searched his pockets, hoping he had his pocket knife on him. He had awoken so early that morning that he was probably too tired to remember to grab it. That, or subconsciously his brain knew he’d be boarding an airplane and he usually couldn’t take his knife anyway. He cursed not being able to produce it from his pockets.

He got up and began to look for anything that could cut the rope. He opened a small cooler that was buckled into one of the seats hoping to find a glass bottle. It was empty. He slammed the lid and continued looking around. More alarms began to sound. He could hear the left engine begin to slow. He could see the propeller windmilling on that side too. He felt the aircraft’s nose dip. He immediately thought of the aluminum can sitting in his seat. He rushed to it, holding on to each seat he passed. He took the can back to the cockpit. He set it on the floor in between the seats and crushed it with his foot. He hoped the action would start a break in the metal. He picked it up and saw what he had wished for. There was a one-inch break in the aluminum. He pulled the can apart a few inches and twisted the top and bottom in opposite direction to expose more of the straight edge.

Marcus glanced up and could see the windscreen filling with the wilderness below. He could feel the aircraft accelerate towards the ground. He guessed that he maybe had only one minute before slamming into the earth. A fleeting thought that he should have looked for a parachute crossed his mind. It was too late now. If there wasn’t one then he’d be dead. Getting the rope cut was his last chance.

He started hacking at the vertical piece of rope that was securing the controls to somewhere below the pilot’s seat. He gripped the mangled can so tightly that blood started to seep out of a growing slice in his hand. He gritted his teeth from the pain. A small portion of the rope remained. Marcus grabbed the rope at the cut and yanked. It broke free. He tried the yoke and had gained some motion but was disappointed that he hadn’t noticed the second rope that helped secure the controls. He cursed and started hacking at the other rope that was secured to somewhere forward and under the instrument panel.

He was surprised when the King Air started to level off. Had the engine started back up? The ‘AIRSPEED’ alarm and light began to flash. It must have picked up enough speed to gain some lift but now the airspeed needle dropped quickly and then the aircraft began another dive. He had paused at the attempt to cut the second rope when the aircraft had slowed the descent. Now that he was barreling towards the ground again he leaned forward and kept slicing. Sweat rolled down his forehead and into his eyes. He frantically wiped it away with his forearm. Half of the rope had been cut through. He grabbed it and pulled. Nothing. He didn’t have the leverage he had had with the first rope and he hadn’t cut through enough either. He jammed the end of the can into the halfway cut rope and started grinding it back and forth as quickly as he could. Fibers of the rope fell to the floor and blood was now dripping from his hand. He looked out through the windscreen and figured he had about a thousand feet remaining. What time did that give him? Seconds?

Instead of grabbing the rope this time, he placed both hands on the yoke. With all of his strength, he turned the yoke to the right in an attempt to break the remaining threads of the rope. It worked, but with the unintended consequence of turning the aircraft abruptly to the right. Marcus didn’t realize it, but the turn caused him to drop even quicker with no power to maintain lift. He straightened the aircraft’s wings back to level, however, the nose was still pointed downwards. Something in his mind told him he should buckle in so he did quickly.

He was above the crest of a tree covered mountain. He heard a thwacking sound as the top of a tall pine tree struck the wing. He could feel it reverberate through the aircraft and through the controls. The plane continued the descent into a valley. Marcus wasn’t sure if he was really doing anything that would help him. He thought maybe if he could try to settle the plane down at the lowest part of the valley then he would be safe. He turned the yoke slightly to angle the aircraft for a better position. He wanted to be more aligned with the elongated valley. He could see some clearings down below.

Marcus could feel the aircraft descending. He swore there were trees higher than he was. He was right. The thwacking and clunking began again as the King Air met with the tops of the trees. Marcus’s mind couldn’t keep up with the chaos that unfolded.

This is the end
, he thought.

The last thing he thought he saw before he covered himself with his arms was the aircraft rolling end over end as it slammed into the trees.