Star One: Tycho City Survival (26 page)

He
had originally considered putting everyone except for about five hundred essential
personnel under until this crisis was over. It was taking longer than he had
thought, and he strongly suspected his original plan was not going to be
feasible.

“We’re
not going to have the time or the resources for more than three thousand,”
Doctor Klein said after a moment. “The time it takes to construct a deep sleep
chamber as well as the necessary monitoring equipment makes it impractical to
do more than that. We could rush everything, but it might result in us losing
some of the sleepers.”

Mase
nodded. He had hoped for greater numbers, but three thousand were that many more
people who were not going to be eating or consuming other valuable resources.
It would probably be wise to get with Isaac, Steffan, and Jolene to discuss further
expanding their food resources. He wondered how difficult it would be to add
several more ecological habitats to raise food. He knew they were being
stretched pretty thin with all the projects they were working on.

A
number of the mining operations on the lunar surface were in the process of being
shut down, and he would also have the crews from the mass driver available
shortly. That might give them the experienced people needed to build additional
habitats for Jolene.

“Keep
me informed if you need anything,” Mase told Doctor Klein. “As you said, we
don’t want to rush this; if more people have to stay awake than we originally
planned, we’ll just have to find a way to deal with it.”

Mase
still wanted to visit the newest ecological habitat and check out the
fishponds. Then later, he was going to have Anthony fly him over to Farside to
meet with Adam Strong about whether to keep the observatory complex open much
longer. Mase knew that shortly they would start feeling the effects of the
neutron star and black hole, even here on the Moon.

-

Warren
Timmons was in the Control Center talking with Major Burns and General Mann.
General Mann was on the com system and currently speaking. “I have checked into
this General Young,” he was saying. “He was a colonel in the marines and a fine
officer. There is no doubt that he has indeed gotten rid of Senator Farley. He
has made several broadcasts and pretty well disbanded most of the military,
ordering them to return to their homes and help their families.”

“Should
we look for more survivors?” Warren asked. “We have several military bases
close by that might still have stores of supplies that could be used to feed
additional people.”

“I
don’t think so,” said General Mann after a moment. “Our best security is no one
knowing we’re here. Between the heavy rain and the earthquakes, the surface is
pretty well impassable. I think it’s best if we hunker down in our bunkers and
try to wait this out. I know that numerous people have been taken to caves and
other shelters around the country. Once this is over, we can try contacting
them.”

“The
earthquakes seem to be getting stronger and more numerous each day,” added Warren, recalling the tremors that seemed to be a normal part of their life now. “The
seismographs never seem to stop registering new quakes.”

“Another
good reason for us to stay inside,” General Mann commented. “The outside
conditions are steadily getting worse. Anyone you send out to look for survivors
could find themselves casualties.”

Warren
let out a heavy sigh. He knew the
general was right. Their first priority had to be to the people that were in
their shelters and making sure they survived.

-

Trace
was standing on the porch of the house looking around. Everyone had gone into
the bunker and were now staying there. The house shook slightly, and he could even
see the trees swaying. After a moment, the tremor stopped and only the light rain
remained.

“Another
earthquake,” Phillip Galleger spoke as he stepped back out onto the porch
carrying two cups of coffee, one of which he handed to Trace.

Two
people were staying in the house on guard duty to ensure that no one came
snooping around. Since the three men that Trace had killed earlier, there had
been no signs of any other trespassers. It probably had helped that they had
gone down to the beginning of the long driveway and dropped several large trees
across it.

Trace
nodded as he took a sip of his coffee. “We’re starting to get several of them a
day. I just hope the bunker can stand up to them if they get worse.”

Phillip’s
attention suddenly focused on the drive. “Trace, I think I saw some movement
down at the bend.”

Trace
put his coffee cup down and picked up his rifle, bringing the scope up to his eyes.
He watched for several moments and then put the rifle down, looking confused. “There
are three kids down there. Looks like a teenager and two younger ones.”

“Kids!”
Phillip exclaimed, and then his eyes narrowed. “It could be a trick to lure us
out.”

“I
don’t know,” Trace replied doubtfully as he picked up a pair of powerful
binoculars lying on a nearby chair. He put them to his eyes and after a moment,
laid them back down. “That teenager is Stew Donaldson and the two kids are his
younger brother and sister. Something’s wrong.” Trace knew the Donaldsons; they
lived a couple of miles down the road.

Trace
stepped off the porch leaving his rifle. He still had his nine-millimeter
pistol at his waist if he needed it. “Phillip, stay here and cover me. I don’t think
this is a trick, but let’s play it safe. I will go talk to Stew and see just
what’s going on.”

Trace
walked slowly down the drive. The light rain had changed to a mist and the
closer he got to the bend, the clearer it became that it was indeed the Donaldson
kids.

“Stew,
what’s wrong?” Trace asked as he finally reached them. The three were standing
there looking lost and confused.

“It’s
our parents,” Stew sobbed. “Two men came to the house demanding that we turn
over all of our food to them. Mom told us to go out the back before they saw us
and come here to ask for help. We’ve been walking for several hours in the mud
and rain. I didn’t think we were ever going to make it.”

Trace
looked around and saw that there was no one else in sight except the three
kids. “Let’s go up to the house and get all three of you cleaned up and
something warm to eat.”

“What
about mom and dad?” asked Stew, worriedly. “Those men might hurt them.”

Trace
was quiet for a moment. “Let me worry about your parents, I’ll go check on them
as soon as we get the three of you taken care of.”

Trace
took the kids up to the house and turned them over to Phillip. They also used
their handheld radios to call down to the bunker and inform them of what had
happened.

“What
are you going to do, Trace?” Phillip asked with concern in his voice as he saw
Trace pick up his rifle with a determined look upon his face.

“I’m
going to go check on the Donaldsons,” Trace answered as he checked his rifle
and made sure he had several extra clips of ammunition. He heard steps on the
porch and his mom and dad appeared. Alice went immediately to the Donaldson
kids and began attending to them.

“What’s
the plan, Trace?” asked James, seeing his son was getting ready to leave.

“I’m
going to the Donaldsons and check things out,” Trace replied as he popped the
clip out of his pistol and made sure it was fully loaded.

James
stepped closer and spoke in a lower voice. “Trace, if those were looters
there’s little chance that the Donaldsons are still alive.”

“I
know, dad,” replied Trace, softly. “But this way I can make sure they don’t
come here or attack another family.”

James
nodded. He understood and agreed with Trace’s reasoning. “You want any of us to
come along?”

“No,
I’m going to take a shortcut through the woods and come up behind the Donaldson’s
house. It should be nearly dark by the time I get there.”

“Be
careful,” Phillip cautioned. “These men could be dangerous.”

“I
doubt whether these men will be expecting any trouble,” Trace responded as he
slipped on a dark colored poncho. “I’ll be back as soon as I’ve taken care of
this.”

Phillip
and James watched from the porch as Trace walked over to the woods and vanished
from sight.

“There’s
an old game trail he can take almost all the way to the Donaldsons,” James
spoke as he watched the forest where Trace had entered. He let out a deep
breath, knowing he would be worried about Trace until he returned. “The
Donaldsons are good people, something like this shouldn’t be happening to
them.”

“What
do we do about these three kids?” asked Phillip, looking back toward the door
of the house. He could hear Alice trying to soothe the children.

James
was silent for a moment. “If their parents are dead, then we take them to the
bunker. I’m not going to turn these kids out alone.”

“I
wasn’t asking you to,” Phillip responded as he looked inside the door at the
three Donaldson kids. “We will make room for them.”

-

It
took Trace a little over an hour to make it to the Donaldson’s house. It was
nearly dark, and he could see no lights inside the old wood farmhouse. Trace
decided to wait a few minutes before making his move. Once it was dark, he
would go up to the farmhouse and see just what had happened.

Trace
waited patiently and soon everything was covered in a veil of darkness. Moving
as stealthily as possible, he reached the house and began to make his way
around it toward the front where the porch was. He was almost there when he
heard two men talking.

“At
least there was food here in this house,” one was saying.

“There’s
more in the cellar over there,” the other replied. “There are enough jars of
canned food to last us for months.”

“It’s
a shame you had to kill the woman,” the first man replied. “I would have liked
another turn with her.”

“You
got her first,” the other replied. “Besides, by killing them the food will last
longer. We also don’t have to worry about watching someone. Take my word for
it, it’s better this way.”

Trace
felt anger spread through him. It was evident these men had killed Fred
Donaldson and then raped his wife. The Donaldsons had been a good family and
friendly neighbors. They had even been offered a place in the bunker but had
politely refused, saying they would be fine at their home.

Trace
edged to the corner of the house and risked looking around it. The two men were
sitting on a couple of chairs with a small Coleman lantern on a table giving
them light. Both looked as if they hadn’t taken a bath or changed clothes in
days.

Laying
his rifle down, Trace pulled out his pistol and chambered a round into the
firing chamber. With his thumb, he slid the safety off. Then he stepped out
into the open where the two men could see him.

“Don’t
move a muscle,” he warned in a cold voice. “Where are the Donaldsons?”

The
two men looked at Trace in shock and then at each other. They had rifles but
had left them inside.

“Who
are the Donaldsons?” one of them stammered.

“We
didn’t find anyone in this house,” the other added, his eyes darting from side
to side as if looking for a weapon to use.

“The
Donaldsons are the people you killed and whose food you have been eating,” Mase
replied as he raised his pistol.

“Crap,”
one of the men said, standing up. “Look here mister, we will share the food
with you. It’s getting scarce as hell, and there’s plenty of it here. We hadn’t
eaten for days until we found this farmhouse. These people were hoarders
keeping all of this for themselves.”

Trace
felt emotionless as he looked unsympathetically at the two men. He didn’t even
notice when his pistol went off, putting a bullet in the head of the man that
was standing. It bucked in his hand again, and the one sitting down slid out of
his chair to collapse unmoving on the porch.

Stepping
up on the porch, Trace checked both men, satisfying himself that they were
indeed dead. Then he went inside the house to check on the Donaldsons. Fred
Donaldson he found in one of the kid’s bedrooms with a bullet in his chest. In
the main bedroom, he found Fred’s wife. He carefully covered her body with a
sheet and took another to put over Fred. He felt cold anger and revulsion over
what the two men had done to the Donaldsons.

Going
back out onto the porch, Trace sat down on the top step and took a deep breath.
He had hoped that when he came home all the killing would stop. It almost
seemed as if it had followed him here. Trace sat there for several minutes and
then stood up. He would go back home and then come back in the morning. They
would need to get some of the kid’s clothes and move the food to the bunker as
well as bury the Donaldsons.

As
he walked back through the woods, his mind was full of concern and dread. How
do you tell three young kids that their parents are dead? Somehow, he was going
to have to find a way.