Sanctuary

looking at the sun settling farther down towards the horizon. “The other thing I’d like to do is offer our cell phones to everyone to try and reach their families. Robert Bri, Nic, and I have working ones so anyone is welcome to use them.”

I am amazed that we have actually done so much in this day. I truly didn’t feel we would be this far along. Although there is still so much to do and still a trip down south, I feel relatively okay with where we are. If the doors and shutters were installed and working, I would feel even better. I still feel the time crunch however and may not be able to make the trip to Portland and get back before nightfall. There’s a good possibility that we may have to stay there overnight.

“I’ll see to the assignments and notify everyone that phones are available. Then we can be on our way,” Lynn says as Bannerman and Frank move off to start their tasks.

“Lynn, I really want you to come with but I feel like I need you here to make sure things get handled,” I say once we are alone.

“Yeah, that’s all fine and dandy but that’s not happening,” she says looking me in the eye. I see her mentally digging her heels in and completely understand how she feels.

“Seriously, I do trust whomever we would leave in charge, whether that’s Drescoll, Frank, or anyone else but I’m also leaving Nic here and will feel better knowing you are here seeing to the security. I know the others will do their best to get things done but I absolutely know you’ll make sure they do,” I say.

“I’m not entirely comfortable with not going with you for two reasons. One, well, that one is obvious, and two, without me, there’s only you with your kids and you don’t know how secure the place is down there is. I’d,” she adds with emphasis, “feel more comfortable if I was with you. We have over forty-eight armed soldiers here, Jack, and my being here or not isn’t going to make a lick of difference.”

“What you say is true. My only concern is making sure that this place is secure and prioritizing that,” I say.

“Look, Jack, Drescoll can see to that. He’ll make sure things get done and that they get done correctly. He’s a good sort and I absolutely trust him,” Lynn says.

“Hon, I totally hear you and, like I said, know what you say is true but I also would feel so much better if you were here overseeing everything,” I say looking into her eyes and seeing her stubbornness.

“Well, Jack, here’s the part where you don’t get your way. I’m going with and that’s just that,” she says planting her hands on her hips and taking a step towards me.

“Okay, okay, okay. You’re going with,” I say with a chuckle, taking a defensive step backwards.

“That’s what I thought. I’ll talk with Drescoll, give people a chance with the phones, and then we can go,” she says and turns to brief Drescoll.

I stare after her departing back and wonder just who really is in charge. Shaking my head with some degree of resignation, I gather up Robert and Bri for our journey south. We load up supplies of food, water, and ammo into one of the Humvees, checking to make sure it has plenty of fuel. Robert and I also replenish our empty mags and slide them into our vest pouches. I hear one of the other Humvees start up nearby. Frank and Alpha Team drive out of the parking lot and head off in search of fuel. Most of our small group come by and try to reach their family and loved ones. There is no response from any of the numbers dialed with most not even receiving a ring or voice mail. As we finish with the last of the loading, Lynn walks over with Michelle, Nic and Mom behind her.

“Ready to go?” Lynn asks on arriving.

“Ready,” I say shutting the rear hatch.

I turn to give Nic hug. “We’ll be back soon, hon. I love you.”

“I love you too, Dad,” she says into my shoulder.

I give her a kiss on the head and turn to hug Mom. “Be safe and take care of the kids,” she says.

“I will, Mom. I love you,” I respond.

“I love you too.”

“Robert, you’re driving,” I say.

“Okay,” he says releasing a hug with Michelle.

We climb in and settle into the seats. The sun is continuing its march across the clear blue sky towards its inevitable meeting with the western horizon. I look at my watch and am surprised to find it’s just a touch after 1800. Part of me feels like it should be earlier but another part is amazed how the day has flown by. Robert starts the vehicle and pulls out of the lot.

I watch Cabela’s grow smaller in the rearview. We have our sanctuary, or at least a major start to one, but it came at a great cost. We lost a whole team in the process and I have a sick feeling in my stomach thinking about it. I still wonder if we did the right thing with staying in and taking it rather than just finding another place once we spotted the tracks. It all happened so fast that there wasn’t much time to analyze it other than to just react. But a whole team, I think watching the building recede. That’s just too costly and we can’t afford a loss rate like that. Or any for that matter. We lost over ten percent of our force in a matter of minutes. In normal military terms, that is referred to as being decimated. Valiant soldiers, all good men and women, gone in the blink of an eye. This really makes me realize just how tenuous our situation is; or can become. The thing to do is make sure we add this lesson to our future endeavors, I think as we leave the area and turn onto the Interstate southbound.

I pull out my cell phone as Robert drives us past Olympia and down the lonely road. We are the only vehicle on the highway – moving vehicle that is. We pass by the occasional car or pickup parked on the shoulder of the Interstate. We pass by a rest area off to the side and see only a few cars in the lot. A body lies stretched over one of the green picnic tables; too far to be seen clearly but obviously not moving. I dial Kelly’s number as the scene slides behind us.

“We’re on our way,” I say once she answers and the hello’s are out of the way.

“Did you go see about Carrie?” Kelly asks.

“I’m sorry but we didn’t have the time. We’ll check on her when we get back,” I answer.

“What have you been doing all day then?” She asks in an exasperated tone.

“We’ve been busy setting up a safe place. We’re about two hours out and may have to stay there for the night,” I reply.

“Okay but there’s still a lot of daylight left.”

“Yeah but there may not be enough to get back before dark,” I say. “Put some unscented candles in the bathroom so we’ll have light.”

“Why do we….” And that’s all as I hear the beep of a signal lost from my phone.

I look at the screen and see “searching for signal” dance across the screen. No bars show on the signal strength meter. I ask Bri to check her phone and it says the same thing. I guess the days of cell service have seen their last. I’m surprised it lasted this long. It’s just one more technology that has failed and certainly won’t be the last. I close the phone and look out at the passing fields. There are quite a few that have cows silently standing where they always have. A few have their heads down eating. I wonder if they have even noticed the change about them; the complete lack of automobiles passing by or the decrease of noise. I wonder if they notice that the ranchers are no longer coming out to check on them.

There are several bridges to cross on the way down and I am worried they may be obstructed. There’s no way to contact Kelly now if we find our route blocked. If even one of them is impassable, it could take hours to find a way around if at all. Although each one is crucial, the ones I am particularly concerned about are the ones spanning the wide Columbia River. Those are the ones mostly likely to be blocked as they are between two major cities. We won’t have much time to either find a way around or find a safe place to hole up in if we can’t get across.

We pass through one of the larger country towns and the Interstate becomes blocked by cars that were trying to get off one of the off-ramps. Robert slows and stops before driving across the grass meridian between the north and southbound lanes, pulling onto the northbound lanes to circumvent the block. The smell of decomposing bodies becomes strong as we pass; so strong my stomach turns and I almost gag.

“Oh my God that stinks,” Bri says with a disgusted tone.

“Hold your breath, hon. We’ll be by it in a bit,” I tell her in a whispery voice as I try to hold mine as well.

During the drive down, Lynn and I talk about some of the things we need to do when we get back and the