Saturday Survival Serial – Volume 3, Week 17

This is week 17 in volume 3 of the Saturday Survival Serial. To learn more about what the Saturday Survival Serial is, click here. To start at week 1, click here.

Marcus put his fist up, signaling everyone to stop. They’d made it down to the resort area and found it abandoned. Not bothering to linger long, they inspected the bridge that crossed the river just past the resort on highway 20. It wouldn’t be too hard to blow up, provided they had the munitions but it was also in good shape and could be a useful one to keep intact.

He had no idea what the overall groups’ armament but it wasn’t his worry. He was good at what he did now, and that was get in, get information, and get out. The appearance of the drone, Candy’s shooting it, and it surviving made him throw caution to the wind about being discovered. If they could learn who owned it and make it back, it would be more than worth the risk.

They were on the edge of the forest line before it opened up into overgrown grass fields and there sat highway 131, deathly still. It had two lanes going in each direction but were separated a swath of green median, also grown over. It’d be very easy to hide in and ambush those who were unlucky enough to pass by.

The group settled in and watched for any signs of others for good half an hour. Nothing moved, save for the light breeze blowing through. There were no sounds other than birds here and there. Finally, Marcus stood and stretched. He motioned everyone to follow.

Leapfrogging forward, one pair covering for the other as they advanced, they made it all the way to the highway without incident. Once again they found some cover behind abandoned vehicles and waited. After fifteen minutes without hearing anything out of the ordinary, Marcus broke the silence.

“Alright everyone, spread out and let’s see if we can learn anything.”

Everyone nodded and began searching for signs of recent traffic. Finding nothing recent, they continued on to where the highway crossed the same river as the one before, just further north. They found a bridge that was damaged from lack of proper maintenance. The group agreed that while it would likely hold the weight they would put on it, even with all the people in all the camps, it would also be very easy to make collapse at an opportune time.

Marcus called for the map again and muttered to himself. He looked to the sky and then the map, trying to figure out where the drone could have come from.

“As much as I want to find more out about that drone, it could take a week or more and by then, all sign could be gone.” He motioned them to come closer and look at the map. He pointed to a spot back the way they came but then turning further east. “There is another, much smaller bridge here and since we’re in the area, let’s check it out and then start back. We won’t be home until late tomorrow, early the next morning at the latest.”

Everyone nodded and they began walking again, eyes scanning for any hint of trouble. Candy came alongside Marcus and said, “Are you sure we can’t go a little further northeast, see if we can find anything? Even just a mile?”

Marcus laughed quietly and shook his head. “I know, you’re going crazy because it’s like leaving a wounded animal out there but we need to get back with info about these access bridges. The fact that we saw anything at all is news enough. Don’t you think?”

**********

The trucks rolled noisily into the middle of Reed City. Soldiers ran alongside the vehicles, guns at the ready for any sign of trouble. Miller surveyed the area with a calculating eye. He nodded to his driver who came to a halt. They were in front of the elementary school in an otherwise residential area. He got out and stretched, glad to have finally made it. The other trucks pulled up behind and to the sides of his, making a defensive ring with a route of escape if needed.

Everyone else got out and the soldiers immediately began to sweep the surrounding buildings. Shouts could be heard as the communicated all clear in each area. In short order, a two block radius had been cleared. There was nothing and no one around that was a threat. Miller nodded to the officer after hearing the report. He went to his Jeep and pulled out a map. Unraveling it on the hood, he motioned the officers to come closer.

The map was a very close up, detailed job in color.  Street names were labeled, as were key buildings like the elementary school they were in front of. It showed everywhere from the other side of highway 131 to the west, all the way to a place called Albright Park to the east. In all, the map covered a good 3 mile radius. Though it was called a city, it was actually a small town and remote, too.

“Okay, the first thing to get set up is comms. Then, we begin a full sweep that covers this map. I have one other laminated copy you can take. Once that is done, any survivors found and willingly come are to be brought to me.” Miller smirked. “I rather doubt there is anyone here, though.

“I will be making my office in this building,” he gestured to the school. “There will be other offices for infrastructure in there, but there will also be another area, here, that will be off limits to people below a certain clearance. That is all I can say on the matter for now.”

No one so much as blinked. By now, most were well-conditioned to take orders and not question what they were told by those who ranked higher. Though he was now a mayor and no longer a military man, everyone knew his history and he was still treated with the same deference. He saluted and dismissed them. Eugene stayed behind, waiting.

Miller eyed him before motioning him to follow. He walked up to the door of the school and noted the damage. The doors were still attached at the hinges but the locks and latches were a lost cause. They waited as the two soldiers whose job was to protect Mayor Miller went in first. Moving quietly but with purpose, they cleared the immediate area quickly. Miller followed the soldier who came back to let him know it was clear into the main hallway. He easily spotted where the front office was and frowned at the mess left behind by looters and mother nature. It would take some work to get it serviceable.

He moved to the office and walked in like he owned the place. It didn’t take him long to choose the best office based on strategic location and options for defense or escape. He nodded his approval and sat down behind the desk, motioning Eugene to sit across from him. He told the soldiers to clear the rest of the building, getting into every nook by whatever means necessary. After they had gone, he turned his attention to Eugene.

“We have a considerable amount of work and little time to do it. I know you are chomping at the bit to finish your mission. The fact is you need to be patient. I promised you I would help but I can’t do it while trying to get things set up here, too. It’s a logistical impossibility.” Though it grated on him to try reasoning with the man, he knew he needed to work on his diplomacy skills.

Eugene scowled. “The longer we wait, the more powerful he will get! You saw what happened with your drone and you’re lucky you didn’t lose it on the first scout. We need to at least loca-”

Miller slammed his hand down on the table, making the layers of dust jump and swirl. There was a distinct imprint of his hand left behind. “Listen to yourself! You aren’t thinking clearly. If you want to have a chance of succeeding, we need to have a solid base to launch from. Get it together!”

Eugene forced himself to calm down, though it took effort. He felt like Miller was purposely stalling. After all I did to get him where he is now, a mayor of a town, and now he treats me like I’m nothing more than a cockroach he’d rather see disappear. He schooled his face not to show his thoughts, nodding instead and looking down.

“Sorry about that, Miller. Thanks for bringing me back to reality. Guess I lost it a little.” He tried to look chagrined and embarrassed instead of seething with anger.

Miller sat back in the chair, sending another puff of dust into the air. “I have something I need help with,” he said, deftly switching the subject. “Once the settlers start to arrive, I need your NSA training to make an initial evaluation of them. Anyone who sends off red flags, I want to know about.”

Eugene nodded and told him he would be happy to help however he could. He got up to leave, keeping his face and posture as a defeated man. He felt like anything but defeated though. He felt betrayed. He knew what Miller was really doing by asking for his ‘help.’ He is trying to get me busy with something else, shuffle me to the side. The bastard probably thinks he is doing me a favor by giving me a distraction. Something new to focus on?

There was no way in hell Eugene was going to be steered off course.

Miller stared after Eugene had left for awhile, considering the conversation he’d just had. Though he was certain Eugene was not happy with having to wait, he’d hoped the man could keep it together long enough for things to get settled here.

Sighing, he got up and started cleaning his new office. Soldiers came back from their overall sweep of town and reported seeing signs of four distinct tracks on the north side of town but never found anyone. The tracks had carried off into a forested area and went outside where they were told to clear. Miller directed them to begin helping clear areas for comms and then general clean up of the building. This was to be the main building for operations. At least for now.

Later that night, Miller was in his now clean and organized office with his feet kicked up. A stash of whiskey had been found in a locked and hidden cellar. He gave two bottles to the soldiers to drink tonight, correctly assuming that they hadn’t turned in all they’d found. They would be worthless the rest of the night but he wasn’t overly worried. He would stash the other bottles in a suitable place, once he found one.

Enjoying the warmth of the two fingers of whiskey he allowed himself to drink, he’d finally gotten into the files and found the supply lists, specialties of those assigned to him, and almost fell asleep from boredom. Switching to something more interesting, he found the booklet regarding crowd control and camp rules. Flipping open to where he’d left off, he started reading again.

When he got to the section about those who wished to leave, he was fully awake.

“Voluntary Resident Disassociation:

Residents may choose to leave the settlements they are in. The purpose of the settlement is not to be a jail, but neither can it be afforded to let people come and go as they please. Those who stay and work are treated accordingly and compensated in various ways mentioned in section 2.1-6, Resident Benefit and Pass Policy.

There must be a way to identify those who have left a U.N. settlement previously. This is done through a branding into the back of the hand. The brand is the symbol of the camp they left (see Camp Identification Protocol, Section 6.2-3) and will be bandaged before they leave the settlement area. They are to be escorted to the border of the claimed area.

Any Residents caught trying to leave without going through the protocols are to be shot.”

Miller paused a moment. He sat in deep thought for a goodly while before nodding, coming to the conclusion that branding made sense. It was a permanent mark, not easily hidden or healed over. It kept people from not only taking advantage but was an excellent deterrent for leaving in the first place.

There was no room for charity and the liberal nonsense that brought them to this situation in the first place. Miller was a staunch Republican, conservative to the end. If you didn’t work, you died. He continued reading.

“Admitting Branded Residents

It is solely at the discretion of the Mayor whether or not to allow a branded person into their camp. If they have one brand, it is recommended that they are watched closely. There is a special band to be worn by branded residents. In the unlikely situation where a person is branded on the back of both hands and approaches a camp, it is at the sole discretion of the Mayor what to do with them up to and including death for any reason. They are a lesser citizen.”

Miller sat back in his chair again, mildly surprised at the blunt wording. In the world before IT happened, such language would not be used. It would get more civil rights groups up in arms than you could shake a spotted owl at. He mentally shuddered at the idea of having to deal with something like that. He chuckled and thought, I guess there are certain perks to the new world.

Though it grated on him, he knew there would be some deadbeats trying to get in and milk the system. Well, depending on how many people were even around here. He was far from convinced that it was Jimmy Walker’s supposed army who shot at his drone. There’s bound to be pockets of people stashed away here and there all over the place. In these rural areas, survival was oddly higher in a disaster situation.

He stayed up reading late into the night.

************

It had been three days since she’d played cribbage with Pako. She’d been so busy with getting the sewage going that she hadn’t really had any time to talk to her friends about it. Thankfully, they were all coming over tonight for dinner and she couldn’t wait. It was about to burst out of her.

She had decided that Pako wasn’t just making small talk; he was probing, albeit passive-aggressively. He was trying to see where her loyalties were and what she thought. The trouble was, believing they were pointed questions to gauge her reaction, she had no idea what angle he was coming from. She needed to get people’s opinions on it before she reacted. She anxiously listened for the bell that indicated the end of the normal workday. She made sure that when it rang, all of her stuff was put away and she could walk right out the door.

Shannon was able to hold it together until dinner had been served. Joli, Edgar, and Dale were all digging in when she just blurted it out.

“Pako asked some interesting questions at our crib game the other day.” She went on to tell them everything that happened. When she was done, her food was cold on the plate but she felt so much better. She was met with a stunned silence.

Edgar broke the silence with a question. “Which side is he playing for?”

“That’s just it! I have no idea.”

No one said anything and Shannon looked down at her plate before pushing it away. “I feel like I have a sword hanging over my head and it can fall at any second.”

“Maybe you should try asking him some questions and see where his loyalties are?” Jolie shrugged. “Better to be the aggressor than the one being drilled. Unless, of course, you’d like to be drilled…” She grinned maliciously and the guys tried to stifle their laughter behind a cough and a stretch, failing miserably.

Shannon sputtered a moment before telling Jolie what she’d like to do with a drill to her for such a comment. They finished their dinner and cleaned up, heading to the living room area to play cards. Edgar had traded some wiring help for a deck from another resident.

Dale was dealing the cards and said, “You know, that Pako guy did seek you out. Maybe he just likes you? Speaking of, that Tam guy has been asking about you lately, too.”

Shannon gave Dale a stunned look at the first question and scowled at the second. “You mean Sergeant Stupid? What’s he been asking?”

Dale grinned and looked at his cards before discarding two and picking up replacements. “Oh, you know. Do you have a man, what are you like, what do you like, favorite color, bra size…”

The group laughed loudly at the last, including Shannon.

“Seems you’re a real man magnet,” said Jolie with a grin.

Dale spoke up before Shannon could answer. “He’s not a bad guy and far from stupid. I would say more calculating. He doesn’t like making quick decisions as a rule but knows how to move when told. I’ve been training him on communications for the camp. They are working on getting redundant people with overlapping skills in place, especially for infrastructure.”

Shannon thought about that, letting the bra comment slide, and thought about the people on her crew. She had been teaching Leslie more and more about how the little parts made the big system work and was pleased with the progress. She nodded.

“I have some people like that, too, but it wasn’t any sort of order or anything. It just happened naturally.”

Dale raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Perhaps but how well do you know her outside the day job?”

Shannon frowned.

“If I were you, I would just mind your p’s and q’s. Don’t give anything away for now. You still wanting to get out of here, right? Well, the day before yesterday, I heard about a new settlement camp up in Michigan…”

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NO VOTE THIS WEEK. I wanted to make a special note about these episodes, though.

These are usually written on Friday nights, right before they are posted. They are first draft and about as raw as you can get. Most times, I am half asleep by the end of the episode, no matter how much fun and exciting the story gets.

Because of this, there are going to be errors. Likely lots of them. I do my best to catch them but things get by. Typos, tense switches, and other grammatical errors are taken care of during the editing process once the story is done. I have never tried to get perfect copy on these episodes because we (as in you, the reader, and myself) are still writing the story. Your understanding is appreciated, as is your continued loyalty and support for my first attempt at a dystopian trilogy! I am having a blast!