Through the Storm(25)

No, it wasn’t safe. The looters might still be in the area, waiting for darkness and a chance to break into more houses. Drake recalled a comment from the orange binder about keeping weapons on each person or quickly available. He turned to Ashley. “If we go back to your house, you should have a gun.”

Wide-eyed, she shook her head.

He started to insist, but if he argued with her, she might leave and go home without him. He wanted her to stay with him for good reasons … and bad. At the very least she could help keep an eye on things and might assist with chores. For now, he wouldn’t argue with her about carrying a gun. “Okay.” He nodded and slung the rifle over one shoulder. “Let’s do this while it’s still light.”

*

Lane County, Oregon, Tuesday, September 6th

For nearly an hour, Neal sat leaning against a tire under the watchful eye of an M4-toting private. Then another soldier approached. “Where’s the prisoner’s backpack?”

Neal grunted at being called a prisoner.

The guard pointed to a lone backpack near a pile of other gear collected by the soldiers.

In the truck behind him, the crazy woman cackled.

The new soldier opened Neal’s bag and poured the contents onto the ground, spilling some of the dog food as he did. He then restuffed the bag, checking each item as he did. “Come with me. The major wants to see you.” The soldier passed the backpack to Neal.

With a soldier on each side, Neal was escorted to the major sitting under the shade of a tree behind a portable table. Several empty chairs were positioned nearby.

The private stopped and saluted. “Sir, the prisoner had a small knife in the bag, but no other weapons or suspicious items.” He passed the knife to the major.

The major examined it and set it on the table. “My name is Major Franklin.” He gestured for Neal to sit in one of the empty chairs.

“Neal.” As he sat, the chair rocked on the uneven ground. “Ah, Neal Evans.”

Major Franklin nodded slowly and then continued. “Since the solar storm, we’ve had problems with looters and the general criminal element. We’ve had a particularly bad time with one militia group that has been raiding and killing in this area.”

“I have nothing to do with them or what happened here.”

“I don’t think you do either, but somehow everyone else in that park ended up dead or crazy.” He leaned forward. “So, tell me what happened. Who was in the park when you arrived?”

“Thirty, maybe forty, men, women, and children.”

“Were they armed? Did there appear to be any military organization?”

“No. They seemed like a bunch of refugees.”

The major wrote on a pad. “Go on.”

“Later, eight men came into the meadow. They looked like a biker gang, minus the bikes. I thought they would be a problem.”

“Where were you when they arrived?”

“In the trees just to the west.” Neal pointed to where he had camped. “Anyway, after a while things settled down, and I fell asleep. Just before dawn, rapid gunfire erupted. I stayed down low until there was enough light to see.”

“So, all the shooting happened while it was still dark?”

Neal nodded. “I think they must have had night vision gear. They killed the bikers in seconds. I think the other bodies in the meadow were collateral damage.”

The major jotted more notes on his pad.

“Please, you’ve got to believe me. I’m just trying to get home. I didn’t kill anyone.”

“I believe you.” The major slid the knife back to Neal. “Will you be going through Portland?”

“You're letting me go?”

The major nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll need to go through parts of the city. I’ll probably avoid the downtown area. Can you tell me what the situation is in Portland now?”

The major shook his head. “I wish I knew. My family lives there.” For the next couple of minutes, he wrote. Then he sealed each of two pages in its own envelope and wrote on the covers. Holding one up, he said, “This is for my commanding officer in Portland. If you make it there, I’ve asked him to provide you safe passage through the city.”

“Thank you. Who is the other letter for?”

“My wife and children. Please let them know that I’m okay.”

*

Kittitas County, Washington, Tuesday, September 6th

“The fire is moving north.” Conner pointed to his left. “If it keeps moving that way, we should be safe. We can stay here for a while.”

Madison nodded.

He dropped his backpack and sat, grateful that she had agreed. Smoke still hung heavy in the air, and the fire would destroy much of Ellensburg by morning, but he didn’t think he could pedal any farther.

She sat beside him. “It’ll be dark soon. Do you want to camp here for the night?”

“That might be a good idea.” He massaged his sore legs.

While the long line of refugees continued up both sides of the freeway into the mountains, several small groups broke off and joined Conner and Madison on the hill.

A family with two teen girls and a younger boy struggled to the summit. Each carried at least one cloth bag stuffed with possessions. Another man and woman huddled nearby. Somewhere in the growing darkness, a baby cried.