One Man's War Read online

  Chapter 4: East Bound and Down

  The week went by fast for Tim, and as he sat on a nylon-webbed jump seat in the cargo hold of the C-130, he looked aft to see everyone had settled in as comfortably as they could. They were two hours into the flight east, still somewhere over the Pacific Ocean between Hawaii and California.

  He was mentally shaking his head at the craziness of it all. At the luau the other night, the food was delicious, and the alcohol had flowed freely, a little too freely Tim thought, and culminating in the sheer insanity of it all when Jerry, holding a copy of the US Constitution, swore Tim in as president. Tim had insisted they use that, and not a bible, and everyone understood.

  Now he sat looking down the cargo hold at a Hum-Vee chained down securely, twenty people, six piglets, four goats, four chickens, and two roosters. He had known about the pigs and goats, and looked forward to the bacon and fresh milk, but was surprised at the chickens. He didn’t know any had survived and was elated to see them. Now he looked forward to not only fresh bacon and goat’s milk, but fresh eggs and possibly fried chicken at some point. The thought made his mouth water.

  He had just come from the cockpit, where Holly and Robyn had full control of their flight, and the sight of Robyn sitting in the copilot’s seat made him smile. She was picking it up quickly, like everything else she’d done in her life. He was proud of his little girl, though he reminded himself that she wasn’t little anymore. At nineteen years old, she still had the youthful exuberance in life and the sparkle in her blue eyes, but to Tim, she’d always be that little waif he found in the middle of the road somewhere in West Virginia, crying her eyes out.

  Tim leaned back and closed his eyes to get a little sleep. He could already smell the pigs and goats, and thought that the aircraft would need to be fumigated when they arrived back in Arizona. He was drifting off to sleep when he sensed someone looking at him. He opened his eyes, and inches from his face, was another round face, that smiled immediately when she saw Tim open his eyes.

  “How ya’ going, mate?” the face asked, smiling. It came out like, ‘Howyagoinmate?’

  “I’m going good, April. How are you?” Tim asked the girl, smiling back at her. April was not much older than Robyn, but mentally, she was somewhere nearer to nine or ten years old. Born with Down’s syndrome, she’d come from Australia on the Newcastle, and had been adopted by an Aussie couple who was now coming to Arizona with them, presumably to start a new life. They were the ones with the chickens. They’d left several on the HMAS Newcastle, and several more in Hawaii, and were bringing the remainder with them.

  “It’s loud in here!” she said, bright eyed.

  “I know, April. It won’t be long until we’re in Arizona,” Tim replied with a smile.

  “Me and Paula and Ian will be chook farmers!”

  “You’ll be the most important family in Williams!” Tim told the girl, smiling and remembering ‘chook’ was the Aussie slang word for chicken. Just then, Ian, the man who’d found April way back when the Event had first happened, came up to them.

  “April, you leave Mr. Flannery alone, sweetheart,” he said, taking the girl’s hand.

  “It’s alright, Ian. I don’t mind at all,” Tim told the man.

  The girl smiled and headed back aft, and the man sat down beside Tim on the jump seats.

  “She’s a sweetheart. After everything went to shit, I met Paula, and then we found April. She was almost dead from malnutrition,” Ian said. It was loud inside the cargo hold, and the two men had to shout to be heard.

  “It was hell for a lot of us. I found Robyn almost in the same condition. I can’t imagine how hard it was with a special needs child,” Tim told the man.

  “She’s so trusting of everyone and everything. I’m glad we can come with you, to Arizona, where it’ll be safe for us.”

  Tim inwardly cringed at that. It wasn’t going to be easy, and there are no guarantees. He kept his peace. Simply getting everyone back to Williams and settled would be a challenge in itself.

  “I think with you and your chickens, you’ll be a productive member of our new community, Ian. I’m happy that you’re coming along with us.”

  “I always wanted to go to America, to see the Old West. I’m just as excited as April, to be honest.”

  “It’s still going to be a job. We’ll be getting there at the end of winter, so it’s going to still be plenty cold,” Tim told him.

  “In Arizona?”

  “It’s all elevation. Where we’re going, it’s over a mile above sea level. Two years ago, we had a blizzard come off the mountains, dumped three feet of snow on us. Robyn and I were stuck inside the house for two weeks.”

  “I didn’t realize that,” Ian said, a shocked look crossing his face.

  Tim smiled. “It normally doesn’t snow that badly, and when it does, it doesn’t stick around too long. The summers are rather pleasant. Once we get everyone back to town and we find places for you to live, it should be quite nice for everyone.”

  “You have an idea where I can set up my chook farm?”

  “I have just the place in mind, Ian. We’ll have to build some sturdy fencing to keep the coyotes out though. We can keep them in my barn for now.”

  “That’s good. Again, thank you for letting us come with you.”

  “We still have to be very careful, remember. It’s not going to be like on Oahu. I don’t know what else is out there outside of the town.”

  “I’ve wanted to ask. What’s with all the guns?” Ian asked, pointing at the four pallets of ammunition, M4 carbines and an M60 machine gun, not to mention the .50 caliber M2 heavy machine gun on a ring mount on the Hum-Vee, secured in the hold in front of the Hum-Vee. Jerry had happily ‘donated’ the booty to Tim; he had plenty on the island.

  “Insurance,” Tim said.

  “Insurance?” “Let me ask you something, Ian. Did you have to have automobile insurance in Australia, before the Event that is?”

  “Yes, it was required by law.”

  “Did you ever have to file a claim?”

  “No, thankfully.”

  “Those weapons are our insurance. The world before the Event wasn’t safe, not by a long shot; it’s even less safe now. I hope we never have to file a claim.”

  “The real Wild West, eh?”

  “Not quite, I don’t think, but better safe than sorry. I want everyone to be schooled on their use, and be proficient with them.”

  “That sounds sensible.”

  “I’m using Colonial history of the US as a guide. Everyone was required to have a rifle in their home.”

  “Like Switzerland?”

  “Yeah, kind of like that. I’d like to think of it as how the Minutemen were.”

  “It’s all new to me,” Ian said, sounding a little uneasy.

  “I don’t expect any trouble. It never hurts to have a backup plan,” Tim said, trying to be reassuring.

  “I’ll keep that in mind, mate. I’d better get back to Paula,” Ian said with a grin.

  “We’ll be okay, Ian. We just can’t let our guard down,” Tim said, and the man shook his hand and headed back to his seat further aft.

  Tim tried to get some sleep again, but it eluded him. He thought about the logistics of getting everyone back to Williams with only the one Hum-Vee. He mulled that over in his mind for a few moments and came up with a plan. He stood up and made his way to the cockpit, where he saw that it was very crowded. Holly was in the pilot’s seat, and Robyn had relinquished her seat to let the ensign’s boy, Billy, sit in the co-pilot’s seat. Jimenez was seated at the flight engineer’s seat, and Tim tapped him on the shoulder. When he saw Tim standing behind him, he removed his headset.

  “Do you need something, Sar’ Major?”

  “Yeah, come with me,” Tim said. Jimenez let Holly know where he was going, and followed Tim back into the cargo hold. When they got out of earshot of the cockpit, Jimenez asked, “What’s up?”

  “When we get on the ground,
I’m going to need you to come with me in the Hum-Vee.”

  “Anything wrong?” he asked in concern.

  “Nothing too bad. I was thinking how we’re going to get everyone and everything back to Williams. You and I are going to an Army depot outside of Flagstaff when we arrive. A place called Camp Navajo. It’s an Army National Guard base in Belmont.”

  “What for?”

  “We’ll go there and scare up some larger transportation for everyone and everything we have to transport. I figure a couple of deuce-and-a-halfs will fit the bill nicely,” Tim said.

  “That’s a great idea, Sar’ Major.”

  “Of course it’s a good idea. It’s mine!” Tim agreed with a grin. “Let the Lieutenant know, will you?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “And tell her the in-flight service and entertainment leaves a lot to be desired on this flight.”

  Jimenez laughed loudly and gave Tim a thumbs up. “It that all, Sar’ Major?”

  “Yeah, that’s it. Let me know when we’re getting close and I’ll get everyone ready for the landing back here.”

  “Wilco, Sar’ Major. Oh, and Sar’?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You have got to be the ugliest flight attendant I’ve ever seen,” Jimenez said, making Tim laugh out loud. The two men parted, Jimenez going back to the cockpit, and Tim finding his seat in the hold. He looked out at the faces of the passengers. Some were asleep, others were talking with each other over the roar of the turboprops, and a few were looking at him, with… hope?

  He hoped for everyone’s sake he’d be able to pull it off.

  He saw Izzy near the end at the upright and secured ramp kibitzing with one of the men from Oahu. He felt bad at not spending more time with his friend, and he thought that maybe he’d make up for lost time once they got back to Williams. He sat down, and was asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.

  Tim was shaken awake by Jimenez. The first thing he noticed was that the engines sounded different, quieter. “Anything wrong?” he asked, shaking the cobwebs from his mind.

  “No, Sar’ Major. The number two and three engines were running a little hot, so the Lieutenant shut ‘em down. We’re almost to Tusayan. We should be on the ground in about twenty minutes.”

  “We’re only flying on two engines?”

  “No problem, Sar’ Major. We’re in good hands.”

  “If you say so…”

  In Tim’s mind, a plane that was designed to run on four engines, had better have all four engines running. But if the kid said it was okay, it was okay. He thanked Jimenez and went about the cargo hold telling everyone to get ready for the landing. After he got everyone ready, he went back up to the cockpit and leaned over the pilot’s seat.

  “How are you doing, babe?”

  Holly looked back over her shoulder and smiled. “I’m doing fine. There’s the runway now,” she said, pointing out the windscreen. Tim could see the runway off in the distance, and it looked painfully tiny, a single smudge of concrete with a few outbuildings sitting on a high prairie, a few low junipers scattered around.

  Tim patted her on the shoulder and looked over at Robyn, who was looking at him with a toothy grin.

  “I’ll leave it to the professionals, then,” Tim said, went back aft, and strapped into the jump seat. He heard the engines power up some and then the whine of the hydraulic motors lower the flaps, then felt the aircraft slow and descend. Next, the sound of the landing gear lowering and locking into place, and what seemed like seconds later, the wheels kissed the runway with a slight jar. When the aircraft slowed and stopped, Tim stood and told everyone that they’d arrived. The aircraft lurched, and the engines powered up, and they all could feel the plane turn and begin to taxi.

  When it stopped again and he heard Holly shut down the engines, Tim walked to the rear of the cargo hold and hit the button for the rear ramp, which began to lower with a hydraulic whine. Almost immediately, a cold draft entered the hold, chilling everyone.

  Tim checked his watch and did some mental arithmetic, resetting the watch to local time. It was just past 9AM, and a bright, clear morning greeted everyone. When the ramp was locked into place, Tim walked down and flipped over the wheel ramps. Not seeing any movement, he looked back at the passengers, who were staring at him in silence.

  He had a moment of panic wash over him, then he chided himself for being so stupid. He was standing there, completely unarmed. The moment passed, but he thought he soon ought to remedy his situation. First things first, though, he put one foot on the ramp. The silence was deafening after the long hours of the engine’s whine.

  “Welcome to Arizona everyone. We’re still not all the way to home; it’s about another fifty miles to Williams. Lance Corporal Jimenez and I will be heading out in a few minutes to procure some transportation for us. In the meantime, if you all could give us a hand unloading the aircraft that would be great!” Tim said.

  With everyone’s help, they unloaded the aircraft and Tim ushered everyone into the airport’s tiny terminal building after a quick scan for any bodies left lying about. Finding none, everyone got settled and Tim, Jimenez, and Robyn armed themselves with M4 carbines, and then armed the .50 caliber machine gun on the Hum-Vee that Tim had parked in front of the building.

  “How long will you be?” Holly asked.

  “I don’t know,” Tim replied. “A few hours maybe. It depends on the road. I’ve got a radio with me, so I’ll call you when we get there and on our way back. I don’t foresee any problems.”

  “You be careful,” Holly said, kissing him.

  “Wilco, Ma’am,” Tim said, kissing her back. “Get everyone settled here, get them comfortable, and we shouldn’t be too long.”

  Tim and Jimenez climbed into the Hum-Vee, their carbines safely stowed, and headed off with Tim at the wheel. On the road leading out of the airport, Tim noticed several houses that were overgrown with weeds and he shuddered. He still didn’t see any signs of life, and there was sure to be bodies in those homes, long dead and mummified in the dry air. He couldn’t stop thinking about places like this, all over the world. Homes where families once resided, now turned into crypts of the dead, monuments to a now long-dead society, and it saddened him deeply.

  Tim made a left turn onto route 64 and headed south, towards Williams and I-40. “You know, it’s funny,” Jimenez commented, “I’ve lived in Arizona my entire life, and I’ve never once been to the Grand Canyon.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. I was born and raised in Philadelphia, and I haven’t seen the Liberty Bell or all those other historical places since I think I was ten or eleven years old.”

  “Maybe you can get back one day, Sar’ Major.”

  “Nah, that’s all gone now,” Tim said wistfully, and told Jimenez of the firestorm right before his exodus of the city.

  “Wow,” Jimenez said with a long whistle. “All that history, gone forever.”

  “All that’s left now are stories in books. It’s why I think it’s even more important now to keep the history alive, teach our children the importance of it all.”

  “You said it,” Jimenez agreed, nodding slowly.

  “Right now we’ve got to get everyone settled in, and then maybe when babies start to be born, we’ll start up a little school,” Tim said, lighting his pipe deftly with one hand as he drove down the bumpy road.

  “Shit, these roads are in terrible shape,” Jimenez remarked.

  “Yeah, we’ll have to get in touch with the highway department and complain,” Tim said, and they both laughed. Jimenez was right; the roads were really starting to fall apart. Every crack in the asphalt had sprouted weeds, which after almost seven years, were starting to spread out, and the wheels on the Hum-Vee thumped over each one noticeably. After several more miles, they finally reached the I-40 interchange at Williams.

  Tim didn’t see anything different in town from his vantage point on the highway interchange, and thought for a second to take a detour to the house, ultima
tely deciding against it. It was most probably still in one piece, they’d only been gone a few months; and the chance of anyone finding it over the past winter was slight.

  “I figure in about another ten or so years, you’ll never even be able to tell there were roads here at all,” Tim said sadly.

  They headed east on I-40, the road continuing to climb higher in a steady grade. There was a set of railroad tracks, also overgrown with weeds, on the south side of the highway, and Jimenez pointed to a stalled freight train.

  “Yeah, Taco. Those Aussies who want to put together a rail route to ‘Frisco have their work cut out for them. Even if they get an engine running, they’ve got several hundred miles of track they need to clear, or switch the tracks around the stalled trains. And they’re fucked if they come across a derail.”

  “What about those squids? Do you think they’ll really get that boat to sail?”

  “That is yet to be seen, too,” Tim told the young Marine.

  “I think they’re crazy, if you ask me,” Jimenez said, looking out the window at the forest passing by.

  “The past six or so years haven’t been crazy?” Tim asked with a sideways glance.

  “You’ve got a point there, Sar’ Major.”

  “Taco, we will be very lucky if we get through the next few years.”

  “Isn’t that a little… what’s the word?”

  “Fatalistic? Yeah, it is.”

  “Why? We’ve got a nice place here, and you said it’s got electricity, running water, plenty of food. We should do alright.”

  “I’ll tell you why, Taco,” Tim said, slowing and taking the off-ramp for Belmont and Camp Navajo. “Because somewhere out there, someone will want what we have, and try to take it.”

  “How can you know that?”

  “It’s human nature, like that crazy ship captain. I’m sorry to say that there’s probably more head-cases out there like that.”

  “So we just let them?” Jimenez asked.

  “No, we don’t. We also don’t let anyone know where we are either. This place is pretty well hidden, far enough off the highway that passers-by will never find it. The only other person besides us that even knows it exists knows exactly where it is, and that’s Staff Sergeant Williams.”