Cascadia Fallen: The Complete Trilogy, page 41
8
“Face reality as it is, not as it was or as you wish it to be.”
—Jack Welch
Tahoma’s Hammer Plus 3 Days.
Early in the wee hours of the morning on the first Friday after the hammer fell, a young family plus one slipped into their Chevy Suburban and started to bug out. There was a common 5’ x 8’ open utility trailer—the kind someone gets for hauling lawn mowers or a motorcycle—towing behind it. Everything that had the most value was in the Suburban, while the utility trailer had bicycles, a pull-cart, tables, chairs and such. Earl had left the headlights operational, though he had no intention of using them. He dimmed his dashboard light. It was an older Suburban with analog gauges, not the more modern digital variety. He was wearing his bump helmet with his Armasight night vision binoculars mounted, which caused him to slouch while driving. Clan Garren and Uncle Conner were bugging out of Des Moines, Washington.
After the move to Des Moines and the purchase of the river cabin near North Bend, Earl had started taking the bulk of his camping and preparedness supplies and leaving them on his weekend trips. The family would assuredly be okay through winter, even with Conner along, as he would help fish and hunt his own needs. If we cut calories, we can even support the family, if they come over, Earl realized. He wasn’t too worried about that. They lived well east of the mountains—he couldn’t see a need for his extended family to come closer to the devastation.
Earl’s mind did weigh heavily with how his kids were dealing with all of it. Fifteen-year-old Piper Elizabeth had been doubling-down on her usual amount of angst and drama. She had threatened to go stay at her bestie’s house “until it all blew over.” Earl had just about lost his cool. He was not enjoying the age of insolence. Owen Henry, two years her junior, was obviously worried, but he was also full of the bravado that came with being in an outdoorsman’s family—they would be fine. “This will be like camping, but without cell phones, right?” Not exactly, Earl had told him. Earl was keeping a close eye to be ready when reality hit his kids in the face like a Mike Tyson punch.
The small family had made it about one-and-a-half miles before they were forced to make their first major decision. The overpasses at I-5 and 272nd St. had collapsed.
“What ya’ thinking?” Conner asked.
“Tough one,” Earl said. “We could chase flattened bridges for miles in both directions.” He went silent again.
“I’m really wishing you hadn’t left the quads out at the cabin right about now,” Tori said, concern in her voice. It was eerie dark but not quite pitch black due to overcast skies with mixed rain. “But we need to do something besides sit here in the open,” she concluded.
Earl had been scanning his memory and the blackened horizon where the treetops met the dark gray skyline. “We know the elementary school is right there,” he said, pointing south, “but I think we should go into the big park-and-ride lot on the north while we think.”
The family unit made their way into the big parking lot, which despite being covered in a foot of ash, showed several cracks and shelves. This kept them close to the entrance. Earl and Conner made a security check, sensing that there were a few camps in the woods around the big lot. They decided not to stray any farther and made their way back to the vehicle to begin deliberating the options. Travelling at night seemed attractive, but it was not without its own hazards. Only Earl had night vision. It would be easy for simple ankle sprains and complex ambushes alike to become a problem. After forty-five minutes of discussion, they decided to switch to a daytime bugout.
“HHHuuummmpphhh,” Piper huffed. “Seriously? Why didn’t we just stay in our beds?”
“Shut up, Piper!” Owen said, defending his dad.
“That’s enough,” Earl said. He didn’t need to yell. Over the years, he’d found that by consistently giving them one warning and then upholding whatever discipline they’d earned, that his warnings went heeded on the first try most of the time. This was something Tori blamed on the length of his deployments. They never listen to me on the first warning, she’d complain to him. Earl decided to review the new plan.
“All four of us Garrens have laminated maps in our bags that I made explicitly for a foot bug-out.”
“Really?” Tori asked. She had never been much into preparedness, and Earl hadn’t pushed it. She figured any time and money he put into it was about hunting and fishing.
“Yes. Really,” he said with an ever so slight “why don’t you trust me” tone to his voice. “Most people don’t realize that when they use Google maps, there’s a little walking-person icon. It will give you a much different route than the standard car version. I printed that and laminated it when we moved here to Des Moines.” Even in the dark, he could tell that his intelligent, strong wife was looking at him dumbfoundedly. “I told you all this like two years ago!”
“Sorry, Sergeant Grumpy-pants,” she said. Conner let out a little snicker. “I’m just not into the prepping thing,” Tori chastised.
You’re about to be. Earl looked in his rearview mirror at the grinning Conner. “Not a word,” he ordered his old battle buddy.
“Of course not, Sarge…” he said, before quietly adding, “…ant Grumpy Pants.” Owen and Conner burst out laughing, joined by Tori. The boy and the uncle in the middle row were high-fiving. The back-bench pop diva known as Piper just groaned in annoyance.
Once the little distraction had quieted down, Earl went back to business. “Con-Man, you slept most of the day. You good for first watch?”
“HUA,” came the familial Army reply. It meant Heard – Understood – Acknowledged.
“Thanks, brother. Wake me on the split. Clan Garren, get comfortable and sleep. We have a lot of biking and walking ahead of us.”
“Why can’t we just go home!” Piper pleaded.
Because I said so, Earl thought. “Too much commotion. We’ve left that place, and it will be a long time before we go back. You’re going to have to face facts, Princess.” He received a massive huff in return. Piper was down to three percent charge on her cell, and she used it to once again see if her friends had texted. I believe when that girl can’t listen to her music anymore, we are all in for a new level of spoiled brat. With that, Earl took his bump cap off and donned his tan Ranger ball cap for his nap.
Tahoma’s Hammer Plus 4 Days.
She’s screamed herself hoarse, Sticky thought. He felt weird watching—not at all sexually arousing for him. I’m wondering after most of a week where her mind is? Maybe she’s invented a happy place…He was growing tired of the nuts running the cuckoo farm.
Immediately after the hammer dropped on Tacoma, the staff and counselors had begun guiding residents through the process. Remember—we’re here to help you. Don’t panic, everyone. We’ll get through this. “Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt!” Sticky heard one of the serial rapists say to the Chief of Psychiatry for the facility, Dr. Lillian Gomez, right before he punched her in the side of the head hard enough to knock her out. The lone male staffer in the counseling center at that moment was hopeless, once the residents figured out that the security office’s electronic lock had turned off. It was a safety feature intended for a structure fire. In some form of unspoken rule, almost the same way that giant flocks of birds all turn together instantly, every non-resident was free game. The males wound up being beaten to a pulp and handcuffed in the boiler room. The residents had different plans for the female staff.
All staff within the confines of the fence were unarmed—these weren’t prisoners, after all, but confinees. Even the double fence line had no guard towers—just electronic sensors that had suddenly become worthless. There was a small armory in the chief security office outside the main gate. Once the shaking was over, the nine guards on duty began to deliberate the proper procedure. There should have been twelve, but almost every day, a few guards had to escort a few residents to medical or attorney appointments in Tacoma.
The security staff geared up and made entry into the facility, not sure what to expect. They had to come in through the manually-locking personnel gate next to the electric drive-thru, which wouldn’t open. That meant it was just them and their riot gear—no heavy vehicle to use as a fallback point.
Within hours of that fateful Tuesday’s main event, the first guard had been murdered, freeing up an M-4. This quickly led to the demise of the rest—197 to eight were not fighting-odds, especially when the 197 had prisoners as leverage.
Here it was, four days later, and Sticky had been brewing an idea. With the lone exception of the lack of wells, this island would be a perfect stronghold for the motorcycle club. And it rained plenty—between rain collection, boating over supplies—and offing 200 psychopaths, Sticky thought—there would be no water issues. It had been several days in which he’d wanted to give his left arm a good rest before he started making moves. Break-time’s over! Sticky moved through the pile of men, shoving a few out of the way. He stopped just behind the sixty-two-year-old Level III rapist who was currently on top of Dr. Gomez in the middle of the dayroom, hearing some vocal complaints about cutting in line. Using a piece of twine from the gardening shed, he dropped it over the rapist’s head and began to strangle him from behind.
As several of the cheerers started to move towards Sticky, two other residents dropped kitchen knives out of their long sleeves and began to violently stab those who were trying to stop Sticky. Two others with captured firearms held the rest of the crowd at bay. He was a biker, first—a man from an organized criminal enterprise. He knew who the real criminals were. He’d slowly been building an alliance, with Legion’s help. His MC had been caring for the families of several residents, making sure that harassers were dealt with and ensuring that they had food on the table when money was tight. Now it was time to call in the favors.
The large, out-of-shape man assaulting the doctor was scratching his own neck violently, trying to get the little rope off his windpipe. Sticky could hear the cartilage cracking as he pulled. His own fingers were ghost white from the several wraps of rope around his hands cutting off circulation. The man tried to flail, but Sticky had a wide base for his stance and was leaning backwards. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this, after all. After twenty-two seconds, the man slumped. Sticky kept yanking. Dr. Gomez rolled over to her side—shrieking and afraid to see what would happen next.
After one minute, the circle of men had shrunk considerably. Those who had no criminal training other than rape—especially the pedophiles—knew immediately that they’d better disappear. After close to seventy-seconds, Sticky let the fat piece of human waste fall to the floor. Sticky was panting a little. He slowly turned and looked at his new crew, smiling. They all were. At their feet were four bleeding bodies, wails and moans still emanating from some of them. He approached the closest, not-yet-dead rapist. As he plunged his own knife into the man’s heart, he screamed, “I’m in charge here now! Anyone else feel like dyin’?” while his four accomplices began high-fiving each other with bloody hands.
Tahoma’s Hammer Plus 5 Days.
Earl knew that he and Conner could have rucked the forty-five-plus-mile goal in three days, and that allowed for extra time navigating obstacles and scouting threats from a dead stop. But as a family, he was starting to doubt they would make it in a week. They were now halfway through the third day of hiking the foot route to his cabin on the North Fork Snoqualmie River north of North Bend, Washington. The untrained unit did indeed have to stop for threats and obstacles…and to tend to a few blisters and emotional outbreaks. Princess Piper was starting to realize the full extent of what had happened. And she had refused any moleskin for her feet’s hot spots until the blisters had started to form, which was too late. She had been so sure that she wouldn’t get blisters peddling a bicycle.
Thanks to the jet stream, the ash was only about a foot thick. The rain was turning it into a sloppy paste. They stuck with riding and walking in tire ruts. The ash even showed them the way people had figured out over and around obstacles.
They had just left the roughly due-east travelling on major thoroughfare Kent-Kangley Road, for a less travelled Summit Landsburg Road. Up to this point, the obstacles had all been made by the disaster. Earl was expecting to round a bend at some point and face a roadblock. Their travelling had been hindered a bit by the population density—it took quite a bit of time before the mid-autumn dusk to find a good place to hang hammocks and pitch the one tent. They wanted out of sight, off other people’s private property, and close to the road—all at the same time.
On the first day of hiking, the kids and Tori had learned the value of the pull cart and the over-fender racks that Earl had installed on their bikes. They were able to keep their packs on the bikes to save their backs. Tori and Earl were mostly pushing their bikes, mainly because Conner was setting the pace with the cart. He and Earl would swap every hour. It had taken a couple of scoldings for Earl to get his kids to quit riding ahead. Every once in a while, Piper would try it again, reminding her parents she was practically old enough to vote and move out.
On the first night, the three family members were rudely introduced to the joys of camping in the rainy October weather without a fire. This went over with Piper much like a fart goes over in church. Owen also found out that MREs can be eaten cold when his water-activated heater failed. Earl made sure that his and Conner’s MRE heaters went to the family to act as hand-warmers once they were done heating entrees. He had them put them in their armpits so as to warm the blood closer to the skin’s surface.
On the first day of hiking, the mix of foot traffic was going in both directions. There was some vehicle traffic, but they often caught up to trucks and cars that had passed them when those vehicles came upon downed bridges, trees, billboards, and flipped over vehicles. By the third day, the foot traffic was noticeably eastbound—everyone was employing their I’ll just live off the land prepping strategies.
“I ever tell you kids ‘bout the time your old man went swimmin’ in a plastic room?” Conner said, breaking the ice of boredom after a particularly long quiet spell. He’d heard enough bike tires and wet footsteps for a while.
“Stop.” Earl calmly stated an order that he knew was about to be ignored. When Conner got started, it was a losing battle. His best bud suffered from what he jokingly called “center-of-attention-deficit-disorder.”
“No!” exclaimed Owen excitedly. Piper pretended to ignore the whole conversation.
“We were in Yakima, qualifying for deployment—what was it—’06?” He was starting to giggle as he spoke.
“Stop,” Earl said, just a little louder.
“And there was this one fella…Muldoon, was it?...who just could not say no to a dare.”
“I dare you to shut up,” Earl challenged.
Con-Man was grinning at the kids, trying to get some morale going.
“Aaaanndd?” Owen asked. Tori was staring at her warrior, smirking.
“And somebody–I don’t recall who—dared Muldoon to run into the outhouse while your old man was…talking to a man about a horse, let’s say.”
“Huh?” Owen queried.
“Somebody,” Earl repeated his buddy’s innocent tone. “Somebody? Or you?” he said, the amusement not exactly showing itself.
“Not important,” Conner brushed it off quickly. “Dropping the kids off at the pool,” he explained to Owen. “Pinching a loaf?” The kid still had a blank look. “Takin’ the browns to the Super Bowl—”
“Enough!” Earl almost yelled. Tori started laughing openly.
“Ewwwwww!” exclaimed Piper. She started to ride ahead to get away from all the embarrassing adults.
“That’s far enough!” Earl yelled when she was only twenty meters ahead.
Conner continued. “But what somebody didn’t realize was that the pallet on which this porta-potty sat was broken on the far side. When Muldoon hit it, the whole stupid thing went flying onto its side!”
“No way!” Owen screamed elatedly.
“Guh-ross!” Tori stated, her face making the sympathetic puke response.
Earl just stared at the road ahead of him. He knew what was happening. Conner was playing the court jester at his expense, but for five minutes his family had forgotten the world was ending. He could live with that.
“What happened?” Owen wanted to know, staring at his dad.
“Whatever you think—it was worse than that,” Earl said calmly. The little family continued to march on slowly, taking on the huge voyage one step at a time. I can only hope that what lies ahead does not make that seem like a cakewalk…
9
“I had reasoned this out in my mind, there was one of two things I had a right to, liberty or death; if I could not have one, I would have the other.”
—Harriet Tubman
Tahoma’s Hammer Plus 20 Days.
The various impacts to the world’s economy were becoming very apparent. Markets had tanked overnight for fear that the trade in and out of the North American West Coast was going to come to a grinding halt. The cost to replace the infrastructure alone would cost trillions. Most people just assumed that the government would reach into the pocketbook and work miracles. What they didn’t pay attention to was that the United States had entered a point-of-no-return on its debt years earlier. Even without the largest, natural disaster in recorded history, the U.S.’ tax income was not even enough to pay the interest on its securities, let alone the actual loan.
