I nod okay and head back to the waiting teams. We board and follow the trucks, making a turn to the north at a roundabout. I inform the teams of the good news while we travel. We finally have a better outcome and this causes smiles to shine on every face. The smiles are strained on those who have yet to receive news or have had bad news, but they are smiles nonetheless.
The shops and houses we pass remind me of just about every other town we’ve passed through — store windows broken and some doors hanging open. At the extreme northern end of the town, with scattered industrial buildings, we turn and enter a modern looking building with a brown sign indicating that it’s the ‘Sumner County Jail’. We drive to a sliding security gate at the side of the complex. One of the men jumps out and slides it open. The parking lot we enter has a few pickup trucks parked within it. I notice the fence around the sides and rear of the facility is down in places and the glass entry doors are broken but boarded up.
Several people are out in the parking lot and look our way as we drive in. I suppose it must be quite a surprise to see one of their own head out for supplies only to return with a large armored vehicle. Eyes widen, some in surprise but others have a fearful look in them.
The trucks we were following park. One of the passenger doors opens and Sam exits quickly.
“Mom, Dad,” he shouts, taking off at a run. One of the couples near the edge of the group turns toward the shout.
“Sam?” the woman calls out tentatively.
Sam rushes up and wraps his arms around the woman, hugging her tightly. If he hugged her any tighter, I think she would break. The man joins in, taking all of them in his embrace. They huddle with their heads together. We park the Stryker and exit.
Everyone in both groups is smiling at the reunion, giving hope to those that still have their loved ones to find. I walk over to Jim.
“Who’s in charge here?” I ask.
“That would be Sheriff Dixon,” he replies. “That’s him coming this way.”
I see a man about my size and age approaching. Once he closes, we introduce ourselves. We both trade quick stories, glancing occasionally at the three who are still wrapped together. He asks us to join him inside. I have the teams stay by the Stryker, but the crowd quickly surrounds them, asking questions. I hear some asking about the world outside and if we are part of the military — a common question among the survivors we meet. I guess our outfits and driving an armored military vehicle gives that allusion. I think part of it is people wanting to know if some form of control is coming back and if things will return to normal. I have noticed the disappointment, although covered for the most part, when we tell them our story.
Passing Sam and his parents, the tears have mostly ended. I hear the man say in a low voice, “I’m sorry about Carol, son. We don’t know what happened to her.”
I don’t know what his reaction is as we are soon hustled inside. I have Greg, Robert, and Bri with me.
“We don’t stay in this part anymore,” Dixon says as we cross a lit foyer. “Those creatures of the night break in almost every evening. We’re in the jail proper which they haven’t managed to penetrate.”
We converse for a while giving extended versions of our stories. Dixon knew something bad was happening by the number of calls he started receiving and immediately began rounding up the people who weren’t sick. He lost most of his deputies in the process and the town’s small police force was swallowed up almost immediately, as were the other emergency services. They’d respond to a call only to be taken down. As soon as he figured out what was happening, Dixon stopped responding to calls and began the process of finding those still alive.
“However, that cost us dearly and I lost a number of good people doing that,” he says, his eyes glazing over as he recalls the past.
He seems like a decent sort, especially as he was trying to save as many as he could even though he was putting himself and his staff in danger. I let him know more about the place we have set up and tell him he’s more than welcome to join us.
“That will be a change for a lot of us. We have supplies, water, and a safe haven of our own here. However, that said, and given your stories that there aren’t many of us left, the more we can gather together, the better off we’ll be. I want to talk it over with the others if you don’t mind. After all, it’s their life and decision as well,” he says after a moment of contemplation.
“That’s more than fine, Sheriff. There are a few others farther to the north at the air base that may be going. We can’t stick around for too long, though, as we need to be back before dark… for obvious reasons,” I reply.
“You and you’re group are welcome to stay here for the night if you need,” he says.
“I thank you for that, but we have a long trek ahead of us yet. The sooner we begin, the quicker we can be home. That is one thing to think about though, you’ll be stuck with us for a few days yet as we go searching for more families. It won’t be an easy time. But, we should be back in the Northwest in less than a week,” I state.
“I’ll make sure to mention that. Well, if you are leaving today, I guess I better start the conversation. It may take us a while as some like to hear themselves speak and are prone to lengthy dialogues.”
With that, we shake hands and venture outside. Dixon gathers his people and they head back in for their version of a town hall meeting. Sam accompanies his parents.
“Going to be a bit crowded again, sir,” Gonzalez says, referring to inside the 130.
“If they decide to go,” I say.
“You just watch, sir. They’ll go. They know they don’t have much left here,” she says, waving her arm across the empty fields. “As will the others at McConnell.”
“You have a talent for predicting the future do ya?”
“Nah. I just know people. The Stryker and 130 are great recruiting tools. They see those and armed soldiers, then look down at the hunting rifle by their side and they’re sold. Plus your rugged charm, sir,” she says with a grin.
“Charming and I haven’t ever really seen eye-to-eye.”
“You’ll notice I said ‘rugged’.” Robert chuckles at my side and Bri fails miserably at suppressing a grin.
“You people are impossible. I think I now understand why Lynn assigned me to you. It’s in retaliation for something I said…and more than likely something a year or more ago,” I state.
The sun has long since passed overhead, hidden mostly behind the gathered clouds. We spend the afternoon staring across brown fields or playing cards that McCafferty has broken out while we wait for the people to arrive at a decision. True to his word, the meeting drags on for most of the day. It is getting to the point where I am going to have to interrupt them to tell them we have to leave. The day is wearing on and, if we are going to make it back with some daylight to spare, we have to leave soon. The sheriff walks out just as I rise to go in.
“Well, everyone had to have their say, and some twice, but we’ve decided to come along if the offer still stands. There were a few who weren’t eager to ride for days so I promised them I’d ask this, is there any way you could pick us up on your way home?”
“Of course the offer still stands and we’d be happy to have you along. However, I’m sorry to say we won’t be returning here. Maintenance could become an issue with the aircraft so the sooner we can get home, the better,” I answer.
“That’s kind of what I thought. Okay, give us a chance to pack our stuff up. How much room do you have?” Dixon asks.
“Some, but not much I’m afraid. We can cram what we can in but realize that we have the vehicle there,” I say, pointing at the Stryker, “It takes up most of our available space.”
“Okay, I’ll tell them to keep it to a minimum. Some have mementos they want to hold onto,” he responds.
“Pictures and the sort aren’t going to change things one way or the other so those are fine. Favorite couches on the other hand…” I reply.
“We’ll be ready in about an hour if that suits you. How do you want to do this? Follow in vehicles?” he asks.
“That will be fine. Just realize that the vehicles will also have to be left,” I say.
He nods and vanishes inside once again. People come and go, tossing articles into vehicles and eventually everyone is ready to go. I tell the teams to mount up. The ride back is more of the same with the exception that we have a convoy of loaded pickups and vans following. We pull into the airfield and park our caravan by the 130. I
