A New World: Taken (31 page)

She senses a couple of other smaller packs prowling the neighborhoods she passes.
 
She sees the compound and halts.
 
The lights that once bathed the perimeter in their glow are gone.
 
The tall structures by the fence are empty and the air is free of their scent.
 
She cautiously edges forward.
 
There is no resounding bang of a gunshot or cry of alarm as there had been in previous nights when she ventured close.

She trots around the fenced area to the place it was brought down last night and enters the lair.
 
There is one of the two-legged lying on the ground by the entrance.
 
The sniffs the air and catches a faint scent but it is an old one.
 
The drizzle has vanquished most of the smell but it’s still there.
 
She doesn’t smell anything fresh or recent.
 
With a look around to check for movement, she begins feeding.
 
The males let the ones carrying young to feed first.
 
Some are eager but she sends a quick message and they back off.
 
The others find another lying on the ground nearby and set in.

Sated, she rises and guides the pack to where there is a smell of old blood.
 
In the rooms of the building, her pack feeds on the remnants of bodies that were torn apart in some fashion.
 
She remembers the mighty explosion the night prior and knows she found the aftermath.
 
The why or how still eludes her but she is content that the pack won’t have to hunt all night for food.

She trots with several of her pack to the round building where the other two-legged ones laired.
 
There’s no sign or scent of them.
 
They have gone.
 
She remembers almost ‘hearing’ the one and is intrigued.
 
Well, intrigued is not perhaps the right word but she is curious and, for some reason, feels a pull towards that one.
 
I guess that does mean intrigued.
 
Perhaps it’s that she could almost communicate or understand that one.
 
It was a new and different sensation but she also knows that the two-legged ones are dangerous and will shoot on sight.
 
She has her pack and young one to think of.

She enters the building and finds more food for her pack inside.
 
They will eat well tonight.
 
The old scent of the others that were here is stronger making her a little more cautious but she hears nothing that indicates they are still around.
 
Entering a large room, she looks up and sees another room overlooking.
 
If she could smile or knew what that was, she would for there is the perfect lair.
 
No light during the day will reach there and it’s big enough for all of them to sleep.
 
She has found a new lair for them.

As they settle into their new place, her thoughts momentarily stray towards the one that was here and then trickles back to her young one.
 
Their new lair is warm and they are all fed.
 
She rubs her stomach gently and is content.

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I wake early the next morning and head out with the rest of the teams for training.
 
My muscles aren’t quite as sore and my back seems to be talking with me again.
 
Well, at least acknowledging me if not outright friendly.
 
Others begin making their way out into the drizzly morning heading off to the fields surrounding our haven.
 
The clouds overhead are a darker shade of gray that promises more rain before the end of the day.
 
Or, this being the Northwest, it could be minutes away.
 
It’s a light training morning and we are soon finished.
 
We head for the showers and a change of clothing.
 
I know I am in dire need of one if the odor that seems to be following me around is any indication.

Feeling somewhat refreshed, the teams separate into tasks that Bannerman has assigned.
 
The sound of the few semi’s we have parked outside cranking up filters inside denoting that the truck driving institute’s first class is about to begin.
 
I check in with Frank to see where he wants to begin our search.
 
He has chosen the south end of Olympia.
 
I doubt we’ll find anyone as they should have heard our activities and filtered our way by now.
 
Our burning endeavors didn’t extend that far and we haven’t been through the area as yet so it’s as good a place as any.

The ever-present headache is accompanying me as I head out to the helicopter to warm it up.
 
Robert is accompanying me and I will switch the days off with Bri, when her arm is better, giving them somewhat of a lesson as we go.
 
Yeah, like I’m remotely ready to give lessons but you only have to be one step ahead of those you teach.
 
Frank has chosen the Capital Mall as a rallying point for any survivors and we plan on an afternoon meeting given it is so close.

The rotors come up to speed in a circular blur overhead and we lift off into the drizzle.
 
The downwash of the blades keeps the windshield clear as we head over the brown fields where people are pounding metal fence poles into the ground.
 
Several look up as we pass over.
 
I rock the Kiowa as best I can to say hi.
 
We head to the south end of town.
 
The paper-strewn streets of downtown pass below.
 
Memories surface of times out with the kids for dinner or my occasional foray into the town for a drink or two.
 
That’s all the streets and town holds now – memories.
 
Well, that and night runners.

I search for any barricaded locations that will indicate people are still surviving.
 
I think the best place to search will be the residential districts but the night runners have proven to be quite innovative and it would be difficult for anyone to completely barricade a house against them.
 
Still we pass over the forlorn housing areas and send our broadcast.

“Any survivors, we offer food, shelter, and protection.
 
Meet at the Capital Mall at 3pm.
 
If you can’t make that, we are located at Cabela’s.
 
Any survivors….”

It’s still pretty early in the morning and that should give them enough time to get there by whatever means of transportation they have available.
 
I mean, there is plenty just lying about.
 
Of course, getting keys if you don’t know how to hotwire could be a tricky endeavor.
 
We don’t see anyone exit the houses but cover the entire southwestern side before heading over to the warehouse district.
 
It’s here that I would think people would more likely be able to hole up.
 
We broadcast our message and head south to cover Tumwater.

I let Robert fly some but make sure we have a little more altitude.
 
We can’t go too high as I don’t want to lose contact with the ground but high enough so that we won’t contact the ground immediately.
 
I’m not proficient enough to recover should we decide to do a maneuver that alters the flight characteristics of the helicopter.
 
Yes, that means out of control.
 
We start off like a small skiff bucking high seas but he eventually gets the hang of it.
 
By getting the hang of it, I mean like I did when I first began.
 
That means we aren’t about to test the theory that the ground is harder than an aircraft nor are we in jeopardy of hitting inanimate objects.

The areas we cover give the same picture; streets filled with scraps of paper, parked cars, seemingly empty buildings with their dark windows staring back.
 
With the gray skies and drizzle coming down, it truly looks like an alien world.
 
Like ours but with the lack of movement or people about.
 
It has a very depressing nature about it.
 
It makes me thankful that it’s not like some books I’ve read where there is only one person left.
 
Nice to think about but it would absolutely suck.
 
We are social creatures by nature, with exceptions, and the lack of social interaction would drive anyone crazy in a short period of time.

We finish with the east side of town and overfly some of the outlying areas.
 
We broadcast but the extra flying is to give Robert some stick time.
 
He’ll be starting phase two of his training shortly and I want to give him whatever training I can while we are able.
 
After he and Bri finish with that training, I’ll also be taking them out for some additional training.
 
Bri brought that up again last night during our evening time together.
 
Her arm seems to be healing to a degree now that she has a proper splint on it.
 
She’ll be able to attend the class part of her training and thankfully that is mostly what phase two involves with some walk-throughs of what they learned.

We head up north to refuel and make our way back to the base.
 
We spot several trucks on the Interstate, with their accompanying Humvee escort, as the drivers continue their training.
 
The drizzle has turned to rain as we land in the parking lot, the wash from our rotors driving sheets off the pavement.
 
I make a mental note to change out our helicopter after tomorrow’s flight.
 
I have no idea what maintenance is required per flight hour with these, or really anything else for that matter, and I’m not into finding that answer the hard way.

The parking lot is empty as we make our way inside.
 
I brief Frank on the areas we covered and grab a bite to eat.
 
It’s early afternoon and Lynn is getting the teams ready to rendezvous at the mall.
 
I don’t expect much but at least it’s a start.
 
We should be able to cover a wide area before Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie teams arrive back.
 
Then, it’ll be a busy time again.
 
Bannerman informs me that Watkins and the others are having a more difficult time getting parts of the wind turbine taken down and loaded.
 
They’ll be a few more days at least.
 
They report that it’s been quiet around them in regards to both people and night runners.
 
Their food and water is holding out but he notes they should have brought more clothing.
 
I can only imagine what the inside of the
Strykers
are like at night.

Lynn gathers her Black Team along with Horace’s Blue Team.
 
I hope that’s not an ominous sign – Black and Blue Teams.
 
I am taking Red Team.
 
Outside, the rain brings that smell that a first rain brings; the smell of freshness.
 
The plants and trees give off their scents of joy in response to the refreshing water.
 
I am not as joyous with the rain as I’m not particularly fond of getting wet.
 
I’ve lived in the Northwest long enough to get my fair share so if I were to give off a scent, and I do often, it would be more one of dread and yuck.
 
I wonder what smell hunkering down and trying to pull your collar over your head gives off.
 
We board the buses and, along with three Humvees, start the progression south.

The rain lightly pounds against the metal roof and comes in through the top hatch.
 
We have the gun manned so the warmth and shelter from the downpour one expects in a car is sorely lacking.
 
Our tires purr on the wet highway.
 
We come to the slight blockage of cars as we near the hospital off ramp and pass slowly by.
 
Streaks of water pour off their windshields and rear windows.
 
Some, with their windows down, absorb the water inside.
 
It won’t be too long before these become rusted heaps in the road.
 
The salt air and constant rain of winter will see to that in short order.
 
That’s why we’ll have to get the secure areas in place around the vehicle depots at Fort Lewis soon; so we can park as many vehicles as we can indoors.

We pull off the freeway and make our way through the main boulevards until we reach the mall and park by the main entrance.
 
I note the broken glass doors in front.
 
The hair on my arm and neck come to attention as I know what that means or at least think I do.
 
Night runners are inside.
 
It could be from people scavenging but I’m not really interested in finding out for sure right now.
 
We make sure to stay a distance away from the doors just in case it happens to be a marauder home.
 
I radio base and leave a message for Frank to annotate this as possible night runner location.

We have arrived a little early and don’t sight anyone in the lot.
 
Lynn sets a perimeter with her and Horace’s teams.
 
The Humvees are parked in a circle around the buses with Henderson, Denton, and McCafferty manning the M-240’s on top.
 
The rain lets up and a hole opens above us sending beams of sunlight down onto the paved surface.
 
Wisps of steam rise slowly from where the sunlight strikes the wet surface.
 
The day isn’t cold but warm and humid.
 
Stifling almost but the sunlight feels good.
 
The cooler rain felt good at first but that quickly passed.