Through the Storm(41)

Neal turned to Pool. “It’s up to you.”

“That’ll work out fine. The convoy to the bridge will be leaving later this evening. I’ll come back and pick you up.”

Carol led Neal toward the house as Lieutenant Pool departed.

“How did you meet Dirk?”

“Well, he arrested me.”

She laughed. “You must tell me everything.”

They walked through the house to the backyard as Neal told his story. In the yard, they tied Ginger with a long rope to a tree.

“After a soldier looked through my backpack and your husband talked with me … well, I guess he believed me. He wrote notes for General Sattler and for you, and asked me to deliver them.”

“I appreciate you doing that for him.” She gave Ginger water and then turned. “Follow me and I’ll give you water too.”

Neal filled his bottles and joined Carol in the living room. He started to make polite conversation, but then leaned back on the couch and sleep soon overtook him.

Long shadows darkened the living room when Neal awoke. He stood and through the window spotted Carol sitting on the porch. He stepped out and sat in a chair nearby.

“Your couch is very comfortable.”

“It’s not mine. Most of the furniture isn’t. The neighbors tell me the couple who lived here were visiting family in Australia.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine how they’ll get home.”

“Well, I’m grateful for the chance to doze on it.”

“Where have you been sleeping these last few days?”

“On the ground mostly. I have a tarp and sleeping bag, but it’s still sleeping on the ground.”

Carol pulled the neatly folded letter from her jean pocket. “Dirk expects the situation to grow much worse before it gets better. You’ve been out there. Is that what you think?”

Neal’s answer came slowly. “Yes.” He had encountered so much death and violence. “I think it’ll get much worse. Send a letter with the next convoy headed in your husband’s direction. He’ll be relieved to know you’re safe.”

She grimaced. “Safe? Is there such a thing now?”

Lieutenant Pool stopped in front of the house. Neal collected Ginger and his backpack, thanked Carol, and departed.

Sandbags piled against a chain-link fence blocked most of his view of a large modern church just outside the main gate. Several hundred men, women, and children filled the parking lot along the tan, brick two-story building. Dozens more milled about in the road. Soldiers worked to clear the way as the trucks ahead honked and inched forward.

Neal gazed right and left. “There were only a few people at the other gate. Why are so many here?”

“The church has been a relief center. They give out food and refer life-threatening medical cases to us. We also act as security around the church, so many refugees stay nearby.”

Staring at the homeless humanity, Neal nodded.

The convoy turned onto the main boulevard.

“Also, we sometimes let people in through this gate,” Pool added.

“Who?” Neal asked.

“People with skills we need, like plumbers, electricians, carpenters, and others.”

Ten men with close-cut hair and multiple tattoos walked across the street in front of the jeep. As Neal watched, they turned toward the gate to the compound.

“Is the base secure?”

Pool shrugged. “As secure as it can be, I guess. Securing the perimeter is a continuous project. We’re constructing a fence, using cargo containers, and converting buildings into watchtowers, but it’s less than half complete. I don’t know if we can finish it before things turn really ugly.”

*

Cle Elum, Washington, Thursday, September 8th

Conner nudged his way into the laundry room of the Catholic church. He stifled a sneeze as the smell of mold, dust, and old clothes assaulted his nostrils.

His gear hung from one arm and he carried a bowl in each hand. Two spoons protruded from his jean pocket. Once inside, he pushed the door shut with a foot and looked for Madison. Shelves cluttered with shoes, pants, shirts, and coats donated by locals for the homeless and refugees blocked much of his view.

“Madison?”

“Over here.”

Conner weaved his way toward the sound of splashing and found Madison in the back corner, washing clothes in a deep sink. He held up the bowls. “The last of the stew.”

As she dried her arms, he stared at the dripping faucet. “I wonder how long it will flow.”

She shrugged. “Father Dan says the town reservoir is higher in the hills. So, for now, the town has water.”

Conner passed her a bowl and spoon and then dropped his backpack in the corner. “Speaking of Father Dan, he says we can sleep here again as long as we don’t break any of the commandments.”

Madison wiped the spoon with her hand. “I wasn’t planning on breaking any … well, any of the ones I know.” She smiled at him and sat on a nearby counter.

“You can have the sleeping bag. I’ll make a bed with some of these coats.”

They ate in silence for several minutes. Then Conner held the bowl to his mouth and slurped the last of the stew. “Father Dan thinks it’s safer here and we should stay.”

“Would you stay here just because it’s safe?” Madison spooned out the last of the broth.