“What’s going on out there?” John asked, not expecting much of a reply from the scout.
“Lots,” Devon answered, surprising every man in the warehouse.
“Like what?” Jared said, turning his head questioningly.
“I think there are more people now than last week. At least there are more people out walking around, looking for things, going into houses and stores, stuff like that,” Devon reported.
“Any close to us here?” John asked, always worried about contact with unfriendlies.
Devon nodded his head. “Yeah, lots. I found a camp full of people and heard them talking.”
Again, both John and Jared were amazed by the young man. John was amazed, but was growing impatient with having to draw everything out of Devon one piece at a time. Jared was far more patient and could sense John’s growing impatience. He shot John a look that conveyed Jared’s desire for John to relax and not tweak the quirky kid out by getting short with him.
“So, Devon, tell us everything you did, saw and heard,” Jared coaxed the youth while John wisely remained silent, doing his best to paint a pleasant look across his chiseled features.
“I saw people everywhere, not like before. I think the ones who didn’t die are coming back from the coast. I found a bunch of people together at a gas station. They were living inside and had a bunch of cars lined up around the place like a wall. I snuck in and heard two of them talking about the government ships everyone thought were coming and how no ships ever came and how a lot of people died.”
Jared and John exchanged concerned looks as Devon relayed his findings. Jared tried to do some rough math in his head regarding the number of people who might be in the area. He figured by the deserted state he’d found San Jose in when they’d gone searching for Dwight, they must have passed through the city right after most people left seeking government assistance.
Jared counted himself lucky, realizing he had transitioned through these built-up areas when people were for the most part still living off what they had in their homes, and then had returned when those same people had left for the coastal areas. Now it seemed the people who were still alive were returning to the Bay Area and their homes or at least the area they lived in before the solar flare.
Jared couldn’t remember ever hearing what the population in the Bay Area was, but assumed it was in the millions. The more he thought, the less he was sure he could even make an uneducated guess at the number of people they would be dealing with. There was no way of knowing how many died in the beginning, not to mention how many more perished on their way to the coast. The human population was like a snake’s skin, constantly shedding its numbers as the population moved to the coast and then back to the bay.
Devon told his friends the gas station with the people was about two miles west of them, and there seemed to be in the neighborhood of twenty people in the group. Devon only saw a couple of women and no children at the gas station, but confessed he hadn’t spent enough time there to be absolutely sure of the group’s demographics. The gas station people were armed, Devon told John specifically, like he knew John would be the one most interested in this bit of information. Other people he saw during his time out were for the most part unarmed and appeared to be trying to avoid contact with other humans.
When Devon finished his debrief, John felt his stomach turn in knots of tension. He already had a plan for the following day, and it included sending the kid out ahead. He felt like he was pushing the kid past what should be expected of a teenager, but was acutely aware of the change in society. Seventy years before the solar flare, kids ten years old were operating tractors and helping bring in the crops. Now, times seemed to be returning to the ways of old, and much more would be expected of children at much younger ages.
A low rumble began to tickle the group’s ears as they sat in the silent blackness of the warehouse’s interior. Within a few seconds, John was on his feet, moving towards the back door. He knew the sound; he’d ridden the beasts into battle enough to tell the make and model of the approaching helicopter. There was a Black Hawk helicopter inbound at a high rate of speed. John could tell by the noise emitted from the aircraft that the pilot was low and fast.
John cracked the rear door slightly, not wanting to walk right out in plain view of the passing aircraft, and was not surprised when all he saw was the dark sky. The pilots were flying blacked out, like every other combat mission John had ever participated in. The helicopter passed overhead at five hundred feet above ground level (AGL) and kept moving west until the sound faded and silence returned. John turned slightly; Jared was an inch behind him, straining to see and hear what was going on outside.
“Jesus, man, give me some room,” John growled, not because he felt crowded, but Jared’s close proximity had unnerved him.
“Where do you think they’re going?” Jared whispered.
John shrugged as he shut and locked the rear door. “I have no idea. I’ve been gone long enough the entire mission goals have probably changed. They don’t seem to be helping people yet, or they wouldn’t be sailing around in the night all blacked out like they’re hunting for the ace of spades.”
Chapter 41
Josh Talley was a sergeant major in the Army, which he’d called home since he was eighteen years old. Josh grew up in Florida and joined the Army the day after he graduated high school. He never played sports, instead focusing on more important things like skateboarding
