in her mind. If Michael finds out about it, he’ll definitely make her stay and ruin her chances of getting in and taking the female.
“No, you won’t. If I have to, I’ll make you stay in the lair. You have your own young one to think of,” Michael says.
“That’s who I’m thinking of. We can’t run forever and they’ll eventually find us. If they do, they’ll destroy this lair like they did the last. We were lucky we weren’t all in it. That is not protecting the pack. That is providing a slaughterhouse and easy pickings for them. We have more than enough to overwhelm them,” she replies.
“How are you going to get over the walls? How are you going to get into their lair? You’ve seen it. We can’t do that right now but we’ll find a way when we’re more secure and stronger. We’ll draw more packs together,” Michael says, growling.
“Every night sees the two-legged ones stronger. Our chances won’t get any easier.”
“We’re staying away for the time being and that’s that.”
Sandra growls her disapproval but nods. She’ll wait for her chance and scout out another lair for her pack. She can’t very well bring the female back to this lair, the pack will tear her apart and Sandra needs her alive. Plus, Sandra knows she won’t survive if she does, Michael will kill her. She also has no intention of staying away from the two-legged lair. She’ll figure out how to get in and then find a lair of her own. For now though, she’ll watch and wait.
Michael heads to find a place to rest from an exhausting night of hunting. He settles in knowing Sandra is keeping something from him. She is planning something and he’ll have to keep a close watch on her. He closes his eyes with his thoughts drifting back to the chase. The thrill of the hunt returns and, with those images drifting through his mind, he falls into a deep slumber.
We wake the next morning, peel back the window blackout covers, and the gray of the pre-dawn light enters in the open windows. My back is sore from sleeping on the cots and I wish now that I had taken up the offer of a comfortable bed.
I radio Greg to check in, “Rise and shine, pretty boy.”
“Seriously?! Yours is the voice I hear first thing in the morning,” he answers.
“Sexy, isn’t it?” I reply.
“No, Jack, it’s the exact opposite,” he says.
“Ah, come on, you know you like it,” I state.
“If you knew what I was dreaming, then you’d know just how wrong that is,” he replies.
“And, now this conversation comes to an end. There is nothing I want to know less than what you were dreaming. As a matter of fact, the mere fact of you mentioning it makes me want to pour bleach on my brain,” I say.
“Okay, fine, I’m up but I’m bringing this mattress with me.”
“There is no way that mattress is making its way on this aircraft. Especially with you mentioning dreaming on it. I’m pretty sure it will need to be burned and I’m not sure even then that there is a fire hot enough to take care of it,” I say. “Now get your sorry ass up, round up everyone, and meet me on the ramp.”
“You are such a buzz kill, Jack. We’ll be there shortly. Greg, out.”
A short time later, with the sun sitting fully over the eastern mountains, Greg and the teams show up with Jason and a few others.
“I’ve talked it over with the others and, with the exception of a few, I think we’ll stay here. Thank you for your offer though. However, Harold here wants to go with you and, between you and me, you’re welcome to him. He’s been nothing but a pain with his conspiracy theories,” Jason says.
I see Harold by one of the trucks with a couple of stuffed bags at his feet. I do not really want him but I can’t think of a valid reason for turning him down. I call him over and let him know that I won’t have any dissension spread among the group and he is to keep the conspiracy crap to himself. He looks down and then, with some obvious reluctance, agrees.
“Why do you want to come with us anyway?” I ask.
He shrugs and says, “I’ll say just this one thing and then, as you say, keep the crap to myself. Make no mistake, I’m sure that those that started this are still around and they’ll be coming soon. It seems you and your group is better prepared to handle whatever comes. And now, like I promised, I’ll keep quiet.”
“Okay, fair enough. Stow your gear onboard and find a place,” I say. He grabs his bags and disappears inside with four others who decided to come along. The soldier, with one arm around his wife and another holding his son close, approaches.
“Sir, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to stay here with my family. Or what’s left of them,” he says with his eyes red and a tear welling up.
“Of course,” I say. “I’m glad you found them and am sorry for your loss. Truly. I know what you are going through. Stay with my blessings. We’ll miss you but I completely understand.”
“Thank you, sir. It’s been a pleasure serving with you,” he replies, saluting and then reaching out with his hand. I return his shake and he walks over to say goodbye to his comrades.
“Well, we’ll fuel up, if you don’t mind us stealing some of your gas, and be on our way,” I tell Jason. I leave him with one of the spare satellite phones I brought just in case we met with others and needed to stay in contact. “We’ll be able to communicate this way. Keep in touch and let us know if you need anything. Keep in mind that we may not be able to respond quickly by flying in a few months but we’ll do what we can.”
“That’s much appreciated. Thanks,” Jason says, accepting the phone and charging unit.
Robert and Craig grab one of the fuel trucks at the end of the ramp and we are soon refueled. With our next stop at Malmstrom AFB, Montana input into the computer, we say our farewells and, taxiing to the end of the runway, Robert takes off into the clear blue sky heading to the northeast.
The flight will be a short one of just under four hundred miles putting us there in about an hour. We slide over the Salmon River Mountains clawing for altitude. The brown patchwork of the valley quickly changes to forested hills and mountains with deep canyons between major off-shooting ridge lines. The blue sky is completely devoid of contrails that I was used to seeing on any point of the compass when flying during the day. We have the sky to ourselves. It’s too bad we have to share the earth with the night runners. As we traverse over the tall peaks and deep valleys of the Rocky Mountains, I’m not sure which is really worse — the night runners or the bands of marauders that we’ve come into contact with. The night runners are relentless and dangerous, yes, but the humans running around have knowledge of weapons and a modicum of tactics. Given one or the other, I’m not sure which I’d pick. With the bandits, at least I can factor in a semblance of understanding of their behavior and capabilities. I don’t seem to be able to do that with night runners as yet and I don’t like surprises.
The mountains give way to the plains of Montana and Robert begins a descent into the base which lies just east of the Great Falls. The Missouri River winds its way through the town before continuing on its way across the plains. I have him fly over the city as we look for any movement that would indicate survivors still existed in the large city. The sprawling urban area looks much the same as Mountain Home — much of the greenery has changed to match the surrounding brown fields. Some green still exists near the great waterway, but for the most part, without irrigation, the green fields and yards have been transformed.
Robert flies over the airfield at about five thousand feet above the ground. I want a good look at the base before we just merrily set it in like last time. Jason caught me by surprise by showing up like he did when we were doing touch and go’s. Like I said, I hate surprises. Complacency had set in and that can be a killer. Seeing so many towns abandoned, I just assumed that Mountain Home would be the same. I have to keep the A-game going all of the time. We’re just lucky they didn’t start shooting at us when we were the most vulnerable. We can’t figure everything but that was a no-brainer.
We fly over the airfield a few times and do a few low approaches. Nothing appears on the bare ramps. There are only a couple of helicopters sitting on the large pad. This used to be a base for missile crews and the helicopters were for flying the crews to their stations. If some form of military was still around and here, they will not take too kindly to our just setting down. Our radio calls go unanswered. To all appearances, the base is abandoned. We’ll park at one of the run-up areas just off the runway far away from any building and hangars. I tell Greg to get ready to exfil the Stryker in a hurry. Robert sets it down on the long runway with a slight thump as he still isn’t used to the extra weight. He’ll get it though.
We pull off at the end and park just off the runway but a distance from the ramp. Leaving the engines
