Taken

talking about a genetic alteration. I don’t know but that doesn’t just disappear, does it?” I say but not terribly sure of what I’m talking about.

“Think about it,” Drescoll pushes on. “That means she would have to have some sort of antibodies or something. If that were true, couldn’t we use that to reverse the whole process?”

“I am no physicist or geneticist. Or kind ofany ‘cist’ for that matter. I wouldn’t know the first thing about that. Or how to use it or synthesize it. I don’t know that anyone here would either. That’s a pretty big ballgame we’re talking about. And we’re not even sure that’s what happened. She could have just hit her head or something. I wouldn’t even know how to check for something like that,” I answer. “Anyone have anything even remotely close to an answer?”

Everyone shakes their head. Frank said he’d ask around to see if anyone had any expertise but I’m highly doubtful. Anyone with that kind of knowledge would be working for the CDC or some research facility although the University of Washington had a pretty good medical department and medical research going on. My knowledge is frightfully small in that area other than knowing that genetic changes are possible. One only has to look outside at night to know that. All I know about it could be crammed into a thimble with room left over for a finger.

A thought runs through my head that we’ve all seen too many movies about this very thing and it seems so easy on screen. In real life, like many things, not so true. My realm of expertise on the subject would be to draw someone’s blood and shoot it into one of the night runners and see what happened. I mean besides pissing it the hell off. Nope, not into running around with a pissed off night runner just to see what his or her reaction would be. The ramifications that Drescoll has brought up is making my head hurt again. I check my ears for a trickle of blood.

“Well, one thing we aren’t going to do is experiment with people but if we do find someone with some knowledge, I’d be happy to hear them out,” I say after another long bout of silence. We don’t have a final word but just drift away as our thoughts about what Drescoll said almost paralyzes any other process.

The next morning dawns with mostly clear skies. It’s obvious it rained through the night but the clouds have parted leaving only faint reminders they were there. A few clouds still gather but for the most part, it’s another nice day coming our way. The sun glistens off the wet pavement as I gather the teams together before our daily training.

“I just want to let you know that I haven’t forgotten that you have families as well,” I begin addressing the group in a semi-circle around me; some kneeling on the still wet parking lot while others stand cradling their M- 4’s. “I plan to take the 130 out when we can afford the time but it’ll have to be soon.” I see several faces light up.

“Now, there are limits we have to observe. First, any home or place we go has to be within 100 miles of a military airfield. We have to have JP-4 available. We can obviously only use the daylight and we have to be able to get there, search, and return by nightfall. We have to stay west of a line running from the middle of Texas due north to the eastern border of North Dakota. The majority of nuclear power plants lies east of that line and has most likely rendered the eastern part of the country inhospitable,” I continue.

Several faces fall at the news of the limitations. McCafferty raises her hand. “Sir, exactly what is the limit for Texas?” She asks with a hint of trepidation in her voice.

“What place are you thinking about?” I ask in return.

“Lubbock, sir,” she answer.

“That should be far enough west,” I say seeing her eyes light up.

“I’m sorry for those that have family outside of those areas. I truly am and if we could, we’d go find out about everyone but the hard fact is that we can’t risk going east of that line,” I say.

I feel sick at heart looking at some of the crestfallen faces. I’d like to say I know of that feeling and could empathize with them but my kids are safe. I could perhaps share in the anxiety of not knowing they are safe given recent events but to totally not be able to find out or know for sure, no, no one who isn’t going through that could possibly know.

“Sir, are you sure the power plants melted down?” One soldier asks.

“I’m pretty sure,” I say looking to see who asked so I can address them directly but I can’t tell. “All of the safety systems and triple-redundant fail-safes relied on their own generation of power. When that power isn’t available, then the chain reactions start. I’m quite sure they are all in the process of melting down if they haven’t already. With the predominant eastern flow of wind and the numerous plants on that side of the country, well, the coverage has to be almost complete and we wouldn’t know until it was possibly too late. I’m truly sorry.”

The silence is complete. There’s a shifting of feet as some are eager and others saddened. To say this situation is awkward is to put it mildly. I would rather be in the midst of a proctology exam than be standing here telling the ones that have family in possible radiation zones that we can’t go there.

“So, I need a show of hands of who wants to go and who might have family or loved ones within those parameters,” I say wanting this awkwardness to be over.

A few raise their hands. I notice all of Red Team have their hands in the air. That makes it easy, I think counting the others. I ask Lynn to contact Watkins down in the Columbia Gorge with the information to see how many he has that can and would like to go. In all, we find twelve that can and are going. I let them know that we’ll have to wait for an opportune time but that it’ll also have to be soon. If we miss our window for any reason, we won’t be able to attempt it and to also prepare for that eventuality. Several ask about heading out with ground transportation if their homes are too far from a military field. I answer that we may be able to do that in the future but depleting our already thin resources for the period of time it will take isn’t possible at this time. I leave them with the, “we’ll have to see what the future holds. If we can, we will do just that.” The throaty roar of semi’s starting punctuates the atmosphere. Clouds of smoke rise from their stacks.

“Okay everyone, form up and let’s get on with this morning’s training,” Lynn says saving me from any further discomfort.

I had thought this would be mostly good news for the soldiers but it’s mixed. Even the ones who can go feel bad for the ones who can’t. There is a lot of shoulder patting as the teams head across parking lot. I suddenly feel very tired.

“Coming, Jack?” Lynn asks over her shoulder as she walks along with the others. I nod and head over to where they’re gathering.

After training, I lift off in the helicopter and head north. I’m solo today as Robert and Bri are starting the second part of their training today. I still have a queasy feeling in my stomach from this morning with the soldiers. I don’t think they have any hard feelings toward me but sometimes the messenger is associated with the feeling of pain or anguish. I felt bad seeing some of their faces as the hope of finding their loved ones, slim as it may be, was dashed. Sure, there were the vague promises of heading out over land but they know the line across the country still stands. Lynn and I had a private chat after training to be prepared for some leaving. Even knowing the extreme dangers in all of the forms this new world presents won’t stop the pull of wanting to know. I have no doubt that some will leave. However, it’s my hope that the camaraderie found with their colleagues will keep them here.

I head into the clear sky and am presented with the wide open wilderness of it all. The blue sky above with a scattering of clouds; the tail remnants of the front that came through. The vast area around is devoid of any form of life. No movement; just the open areas, the waters of the Puget Sound and the rivers feeding it, the brown fields, the houses nestled in amongst trees, the backyards that hold memories of days past. Even the birds seem to have disappeared. It brings a lonely feeling.

Frank picked out an area around Fort Lewis. I’ll cover the base itself, although we traversed it once seemingly years ago, and the surrounding towns of DuPont and Tillicum. The rally point will be the main entrance to Fort Lewis; actually, the Interstate just in front but the main gate will be a recognizable description to anyone in the area. I fly over the empty towns and base, once busy centers of activity, and broadcast the same message as the day before. I land at Gray Army Airfield and switch out helicopters before making my way through the bright morning back to base.

Bringing it in for a landing, I see Robert, Bri, and a few others in the brown field sitting in a semi-circle around Lynn next to my landing spot. They are beginning the next part of their training. Another larger group is gathered around several other team members. It appears Lynn has started another phase one training group and is leaving it up to the teams to teach this portion. I bring it in and set it down with the group holding onto anything that might blow away and disappear in the tall grass. Lynn looks over with an irritated look and I just shrug. That