Sweetness in the Dark (6 page)

Paul quietly thanked the hidden watcher and told him that they would be back with their party. He and Matt quickly walked back to the beach. They slowed and approached cautiously.

“Narashima,” Paul said.

“Tarzan,” Amanda returned the password. The two men walked onto the beach and approached the six huddled people.

“Alright, we leave tonight. The town isn’t safe and the person we talked to expects all hell to break lose soon. We’ve already divided up the gear and food so we should be ready to go,” Paul said.

“We have a problem,” Amanda replied. “It seems some people want to wait here for the authorities. They’ve been discussing things while you were gone.”

“That’s right. We aren’t going anywhere. The police will have this under control soon,” one professor announced. “We’ll keep the fishing gear. There’s plenty of fish to catch to keep us going ‘til help arrives.”

“And you can take those guns. That’s a fair trade for the fishing gear,” his wife exclaimed.

“Those things will only cause you problems, and I want no part of them,” the second wife added. Her husband, who had been noticeably quiet for the past five days, stood by her side.

“Then there’s no point in keeping this out of sight then.” Paul reached into his large wet bag that had contained his personal gear. He rummaged around and pulled out a hard case about thirty-six inches long. He laid it down and unsnapped the latches. Even in the low light everyone could see the scoped assault rifle. He gathered up the sling and threw it over his shoulder.

The mouthy wife exclaimed, “Oh my! You’ve had that thing along the whole time? Carrying a machine gun on a float trip. What the hell kind of place is this?”

Paul turned away from the four and said. “All right then. Those of you that are going with me, get your gear. We head out immediately.” Amanda got her gear together and slung it over her shoulders. They had each brought a day pack for hikes up the side canyons of the Middle Fork. Now they would serve as back packs for their long march to Boise.

With rolled-up sleeping bags and pads strapped to the sides, the packs were workable, if not comfortable. The shoulder straps weren’t designed for such loads and they cut into their shoulders. The four travelers all lined up and Paul checked each person’s load.

“OK, let’s get moving. We need to be south of Riggins before sunlight,” Paul said.

They started to walk off. The professor that had been noticeably quiet caught up to Paul as they headed up the beach.

“Our jobs will still be there when we get back to Boise, won’t they Paul?” he asked.

Paul was taken aback. This guy didn’t have a clue what fate was about to do to him and his wife. He was sympathetic to his plight and only answered, “Your job will be waiting for you. Just get home safe.” It was a lie, but all Paul could do was turn and walk off. Paul knew that he’d never see the four again.

Amanda waited on the road as Matt and Meredith slowly walked up the slope from the beach. When Paul reached her, she asked, “You don’t think they’ll make it, do you? Should you have convinced them to come with us?”

“Those four are trapped in the old America. That America died five days ago. The new America is going to be a lot meaner, I’m afraid. Many people are going to die in the near future waiting for a return of a life that will never be seen again,” Paul explained. “I’m afraid I don’t have the time or energy to convince ill-educated people of that fact.”

Paul couldn’t tell in the low light of the Northern Lights how Amanda took his answer. Like the four just left behind, this would be a test of her resolve to move into a different world. They were all about to be tested.

Paul and Amanda quickly caught up with the two kids and together they formed a loose line headed towards Riggins. Paul was out front on point and watched for the guard post they had encountered before.

As they came to the correct location, the voice was heard again. “You’ve improved your weaponry. Stand by.”

Paul stood and scanned the area from which the voice emanated. A rustle in the brush announced a figure coming out of hiding. It was followed by two very small figures.

As they got closer, Paul realized that the two small figures were children. The large figure suddenly broke the tension. “Dr. Kendall, a surprise running into you here.”

Paul strained in the low light to recognize the face, but the voice was familiar.

“General Ed Gale, from the Idaho National Guard. You remember, from the Governor’s Advisory Council,” General Gale said. “Although this week I was Grandpa Ed for my two grandchildren. We were up the Main Salmon camping when the CME hit.”

“General, of all the people to run into here and now. But…” Paul was suddenly at a loss for words.

“I’ve been waiting here for a group to come by heading for Boise. I need to get to headquarters. I’m sure they’ve got their hands full with all that’s going on. Our friend over there told me you were heading south. Can the three of us join up with your team?” Ed asked.

“Of course, General. It would be an honor,” Paul said.

“I’m afraid my grandkids will slow you down.”

“We’ll carry them if we have to,” Amanda spoke up.

“I don’t want to impose,” Ed said.

“General, the world changed this week and if we don’t all work together, we will all fail,” Amanda added.

Paul stood and looked at this woman. She understood what he had said at the beach. Everything was different, and she knew it.

“Doc, you seem to have brought more firepower than I did. I only have my Colt .45 service piece,” Ed said.

“General, I want you to take this. You know more what to do with it than I do.” Paul pulled the Smith and Wesson M&P semiautomatic rifle off his shoulder.

“Whoa there, Doc. I’ve never taken someone’s personal protection away from them,” Ed said.

“Nonsense, I still have my Glock.” He handed the assault rifle off to the General. The General feigned reluctance but accepted the offer. He slid the clip out of the receiver, checked the load and replaced it. He was now confident that it was ready to fire.

Paul was relieved. He had just handed off their most important piece of protection to a trained Navy Seal. Paul knew General Gale had started his career at Annapolis and went into submarines upon graduation. Obtaining executive officer status on a nuclear attack submarine, he had decided to pursue his life’s dream of flying.

The General had received his Navy wings and flown jets off of carriers for a few years. Then, at age thirty-six, the yen for excitement caught up with him. He applied to the Navy Seals and had made it through training.

He had risen to Admiral in charge of Special Ops when his wife was diagnosed with terminal breast cancer. The illness brought them back to Idaho for her hospice while dying. He had retired soon after her death with a feeling of profound loss.

The Idaho Governor had found him living quietly in retirement in Burley and had convinced him four years ago that his services were needed by the state. Ed had been named Commanding General of the Idaho National Guard. Suddenly he had become a general as the Guard didn’t have any admiral ranks available.

And at age 62, General Gale still had the look of a warrior. He had obviously stayed in shape and Paul was more confident that they would all reach Boise.

“OK, I’ll take point. Paul, if you can take up rear guard. You, what’s your name?” Ed looked at Matt.

“Er, Matt, Sir. And this is Amanda and Meredith,” Matt answered. He felt like he should snap to attention.

“Right. You take my .45. You know how to handle a semi-automatic?”

“Yes, Sir. I have my dad’s Glock now. And Amanda has his Ruger,” Matt responded.

“Boy Doc, you really travel heavy. Then I’ll give your dad my service piece. You keep the Glock,” Ed said. “And Amanda, you’re squared away with that Ruger.”

“Four by four Sir.” Amanda tried to inject as much military jargon as she knew.

Ed gave her a grin and turned to Meredith. “I assume you’re not carrying then.”

“Wrong assumption, Sir.” Meredith reached onto her belt and withdrew the Glock Austrian Army Special Ops knife her dad had given her.

“Holy cow! A pig sticker. Doc, you’ve been expecting trouble for quite some time, haven’t you?” Ed asked.

“Yes, quite some time,” Paul answered.

“Well, Meredith, you keep your pig sticker real handy. I may need it on our journey. I do my best work quietly.”

Paul could only imagine what the general meant by that but he knew it wouldn’t be healthy for the bad guys.
Yes, we just might survive the trip south
, Paul thought.

“OK, move out. Stay quiet. No talking. Watch for my hand signals,” Ed said. He explained the four basic hand signals they’d need to know. He also explained that he’d teach them a lot more about survival skills as they progressed south.

Skirting around Riggins was tense but uneventful. It was late enough that it appeared the people in town were sleeping off the mayhem of the previous day. Paul assumed that hunger must be setting in and energy levels were being affected.

They followed the Little Salmon River upstream on the east bank until Ed considered them a safe distance from Riggins. They crossed the river, put on dry socks and climbed up onto Highway 95. All was quiet. They lined up and headed south.

Ed moved ahead on point watching the sides of the road. Paul brought up the rear and constantly swiveled to look behind him as he walked. He could just see the general up ahead in the limited light with the five others in single file in between them.

They were about three miles south of Riggins making good time when Paul became aware of something behind him. He turned his head yet couldn’t see anything, but he could feel it. He turned his head half way so his right ear was pointed back down the road.

There it was again. A slight noise, like boots on pavement. The river made too much noise next to the road to make it out clearly, but the hair on the back of his neck was standing up in warning.

Paul jogged ahead and did a low ‘shush’ to Ed to get his attention. Ed slowed but didn’t stop as Paul caught up to him. In a low voice he whispered, “I haven’t seen anything, but I think I’ve heard someone behind us.”

Ed instantly reacted. After he motioned Paul to stand watch, he gathered up the children and led them off the road down toward the river. Paul watched the road north as Ed stationed the five in a defensive position among some large river boulders. Ed silently climbed back up on the road. He held the Glock knife in his hand.

“I borrowed this,” Ed said. He held up the large black knife. His face was painted black with camouflage. “Let’s check things out. You stay one click behind me on the river side. Take cover at the first sign of trouble. You take the rifle and keep them from moving up the road. I’ll take the 45 and see what’s up.” Ed handed Paul the camouflage stick so he could black out his white face.

Ed crossed the road and checked the Colt as he walked. Paul waited for Ed to move forward. He had no idea how long a ‘click’ was, but he’d wing it.

Paul watched as Ed suddenly disappeared into the roadside bushes. Paul dropped to one knee, looked and listened. He heard boots on gravel as someone walked up the edge of the road. Paul slide down on his belly beside the road and raised up the rifle.

He trained the Burris Red Dot scope onto the spot where Ed had gone to ground. He waited. He was nervous, since at this distance, he wouldn’t be able to tell friend from foe. He sure didn’t want to shoot his newly found best friend.

Things went very quiet in spite of the river noisily flowing over rocks. That had become white noise to Paul. He was intently listening for human sounds.

Then he heard the muffled noise of two men struggling. He couldn’t see anything. Then a shot rang out and a flash lit the road up in front of him. Paul took aim at the flash and placed the red dot on the area illuminated. He held his fire.

Paul knew Ed was experienced at taking out trained troops. He doubted that anyone around here would be a match for the former Navy Seal. Another flash and report announced another shot. Paul waited.

Suddenly he felt a hand go over his mouth. Paul panicked and turned to see a smiling blackened face lying next to him.

“Shhh. I think they have a vehicle, too.” Ed whispered in Paul’s ear. “Sorry about sneaking up on you. I didn’t want any friendly fire casualties. Can I have the rifle back?”

Paul slid the gun over to Ed and moved a little further away to make room. Ed took up a prone firing position and waited. Paul heard the noise of an engine coming up on the road. The headlights were out but, as it neared, Paul could make out the outline of an older model passenger car.

Ed fired two shots and Paul saw the windshield shatter and the car lurch to the right. Ed fired two more and the figure hanging out the rear door window slumped down the side of the car. The car crashed into the underbrush and struck a pine tree. The engine screamed as the wheels dug into the dirt trying to push through the tree before it stalled.

Ed waited. Quickly two wild shots clipped the tree branches above the two prone men. Paul felt the sweat running down his neck as he trained the Colt on the car. He turned slightly. Ed and the rifle were gone.

Where is he going now?
Paul wondered. Paul waited with the pistol trained on the car. A scream from the other side of the road split the night. A rifle shot swiftly followed.

“Paul, it’s all clear. I’m coming out,” Ed yelled across the road.

“Roger that. All clear,” Paul responded. He stood up and walked across the road. As he rounded the car, he saw two dead bodies lying on the ground. Ed turned off the car’s ignition as he pulled the dead driver out of the seat.

“Nasty work,” Ed said. He opened the rear door and pulled out the other dead body. “There were three walking up the road. I quietly grabbed one from behind and politely asked who he was and what his intentions were.”

“You asked first?” Paul asked.

“It could have been citizens like us, heading south. No need to take out honest people on the road,” Ed said. “But he answered me by trying to pull his pistol around and shoot me. I quickly disarmed him and took him down. From a position on his back with his face in the gravel I asked again. That’s when the first shot was fired.”