Dissension nw-6 Page 4

  He asked his communications officer and Chief Krandle to keep silent about the conversation. He knows he has to communicate something to the crew and his officers as they most assuredly know something is amiss but exactly what should he tell them. That is what is currently occupying his thoughts. Humankind gone in the blink of an eye and replaced by some new cannibalistic species. The infrastructure they once knew vanished. If he just springs that on them, they will think he has gone insane. He knows that is what he would think if his captain suddenly told him a story like it. And, if the casualties are as extensive as Captain Walker said, that would mean a lot of the crew’s families would be gone. That news alone might break up their tight-knit group and they need to be tightly knit right now. However, they need some sort of explanation.

  He’ll brief his officers after the evening shift change and then make a general announcement. He’ll tell the officers about the conversation but hold their silence as to the exact content and generalize the announcement to the crew about what happened. He’ll tell them that something happened but that it isn’t clear exactly what has happened. He’ll notify them that he will pass along details as he gets them. Until then, it’s business as usual aboard.

  The two things he does know is that they will be meeting with this Captain Walker in the morning and that his first order of business will be to restock supplies from the warehouses. They’ll have to surface, send a zodiac in the morning to remove the security nets surrounding the mooring area, and dock the boat. Leonard did notice two missile boats tied up so he’ll take the other triangular berthing area.

  Leonard glances over at the 24-hour clock hanging on the wall in his cramped quarters. Evening has just begun and the crew change will take place soon. The computer on his small desk adjacent to his bunk glows with a bluish tint. He pushes back the multitude of thoughts all vying for attention. He will just stay focused on the tasks at hand and tomorrow will hopefully bring more information. These thoughts are interrupted by static from the speaker mounted by the doorway hatch.

  “Captain to the control room,” the words echo in the small, mostly steel room.

  Leonard swings his legs to the side of the bunk and sits. Lacing his shoes, he runs his hands down his khaki uniform attempting to smooth out the wrinkles. Turning on the water from the tiny sink in his private bathroom, he splashes his face to ease some of the weariness he feels. Drying with the small white towel hanging close by, he makes his way through the hatch to the control room.

  Leonard waves away the ritual command of letting everyone know he has entered and makes his way to where his exec is peering through the periscope.

  “What do you have?” Leonard asks.

  “Movement onshore, sir,” his exec answers, turning from the lens. “It started after sundown. There appears to be people running near the docks. I’ve only counted eight so far.”

  All attention in the control room is focused on their conversation. The crew appears to be manning their stations with their eyes on the controls but Leonard knows their attention is attuned to him. The exec steps away from the periscope housing and Leonard takes his place.

  The scope is turned to the night vision mode casting the shoreline in a green glow. The objects onshore appear crisp and, with the exception of the night vision, seem the same as they appeared in the daytime. Movement catches his eye and he increases the magnification. The image zooms in and he catches five people jogging together just before they turn between two buildings and vanish out of sight. So, there are people around, he thinks. But why are they out at night instead of during the day. His thoughts turn to the conversation today and the report by Krandle. Neither that nor his quick glimpse bode well although he is still having a hard time rationalizing it in his mind.

  He zooms back out and pans hoping to catch a glimpse of others. He sees more movement and zooms in on them. Four others emerge into the open area in front of the docks. They come to a stop. Leonard zooms in closer. He watches as they turn their faces upward and appear to sniff the air. What the hell? He thinks watching them. The one person in front of the other three opens his mouth wide and they all turn to the side with astonishing speed and run up one of the streets leading away from the dockside. What the fuck is going on? Leonard thinks closing the handles and lowering the periscope.

  “Have the officers meet me in the mess,” Leonard tells his exec.

  “Aye, aye, sir,” his exec replies.

  “Oh, and bring Chief Krandle,” Leonard says.

  “Will do, sir.”

  “Chief, you have the boat,” Leonard says, stepping from the control room.

  “Aye, aye, sir,” his chief responds.

  Leonard makes his way to the mess and sits waiting for his officers to appear. They drift in singly and take seats after acknowledging him with a “sir”. He returns each with a head nod. Chief Krandle steps in with the exec close on his heels.

  “Everyone is here, sir,” his exec says, turning to close the hatch.

  “Gentlemen, you all know something has been amiss since we missed our rendezvous escort. Our route up the straits to here has only hammered in that point. I don’t know what is going on but here’s what we know,” Leonard says, starting off the meeting.

  He continues to brief his observations and fully discloses the content of the radio communication along with the sightings just a few moments ago. While he has chosen to disclose everything, he hasn’t reached a decision about what to tell the rest of the crew as yet. Leonard asks Krandle to tell his story without mentioning the specifics of the mission itself. The officers sit in silence after hearing the information but are focused on Leonard with rapt attention.

  “So, gentlemen, in conclusion, we know that something drastic has occurred during our transit but we don’t know what that is exactly. For now, we will dock the boat in the morning and prepare for our meeting with this Captain Walker. With the exception of the crew on watch, I want the rest stationed topside with arms after docking. We’ll also send a small crew into the warehouses to begin restocking our supplies. I want us stocked and ready to go to sea as soon as possible if we need to,” Leonard says.

  “What about the rest of the crew, sir? What will we tell them? They know something is up and the rumor mill has already started making its rounds,” one of the officers pipes up.

  “I haven’t decided yet. On one hand, they need to be kept in the loop to prevent the rumors but we also need to keep ourselves together. If they know their families are in danger or possibly victims, we’ll start losing people or they’ll want us to go after them. We can’t afford that kind of fracture,” Leonard answers.

  “We could keep the boat offshore so they can’t go AWOL, sir,” his exec chimes in.

  “Duly noted but that won’t stop a fracture from happening internally,” Leonard says. “Right now, I think we keep it general. Don’t discuss this meeting or the contents of it with your people. I’ll make an announcement shortly. Let’s get ourselves prepared for the morning. Any questions?” Leonard looks around the cramped mess at each of his officers noting that each has a hundred questions in their eyes but none voice any.

  “Okay, if there aren’t any, except for those of you on duty, get some rest and I’ll see you in the morning. Tomorrow will be an all-hands-on-deck once we dock,” Leonard says.

  They break up and Leonard heads back to the control room. Grabbing the microphone from overhead, he makes a boat-wide announcement.

  “Attention all hands. This is your Captain speaking. As many of you are aware, we missed our rendezvous with our escort and are now lying off Bangor. Something transpired during our transit across the pond. We don’t know exactly what yet but we will dock in the morning, resupply, and meet with another military group to gather more intelligence. I’ll pass information along when we know more. Until then, we are business as usual. That is all,” Leonard says and hangs up the mic.

  He then makes his way back to his quarters, slips off his shoes, and lies back stari
ng at the ceiling once again with a hundred thoughts still running through his head.

  A Ripple On the Surface

  Lynn lies next to Jack listening to his deep breathing and soft snores as he sleeps. Her arms are wrapped around his sleeping body and she knows just how tired he is by his soft snoring. She is tired herself but her mind won’t let her fall over the edge into sleep. Reaching down, she pulls the blankets over Jack where they slipped down and folds her arms over him once again. Lying next to him, she feels contentment wash over her. A part of her still feels the deep disappointment of them not being able to relax and enjoy her coming back in peace.

  Her thoughts wander to what that time would be like and the times they’ve had in the past. Lying here, it feels like the world outside of the wooden walls of their cubicle is just a bad dream and they’ll wake from it soon. She wonders if a time of peace will actually happen or is this the best it will get. Their daily life is one of constantly striving to survive another day and pushing for peace and security. As optimistic as she sounded to Jack earlier, she wonders if that will actually occur. She wishes she could wave her hand and make it all go away. Even if she could only remove the threat of the night runners, she would be okay with just that much. They would deal with the aftermath of surviving but they would at least be safe. Well, moderately so, she thinks.

  Worry creeps into her mind thinking about the transformations in Jack. The physical ones. How will they affect him and are the changes complete? She hasn’t noticed any alterations recently nor has he shown any signs of the once usual headaches. Thoughts wander. She envisions a time in the future when they are safe from the night runners. Where they can rebuild. Where she and Jack can live out their lives in peace and contentment. Build their place of safety and eradicate the threats. Let others run things and the two of them can just exist together. The gap between those thoughts and the reality around them seems so big.

  She hears a small rap on the wooden frame of their doorway covered by a blanket. Well, speaking of reality, she thinks, gently removing her arm wrapped around Jack. She removes her covers and rises trying to not wake him. Peeling the cover back from the doorway, she sees Watkins standing in the soft glow of the interior lighting. She holds a finger to her lips and nods toward the inside of her room asking Watkins to keep his voice low so as to not wake Jack.

  “Sorry to bother you but we have activity on the cameras,” Watkins says in a whisper.

  “I’ll be with you in a sec,” Lynn says.

  She slips on her boots, makes her way out of the small room, and follows Watkins down to their little control room housing the radios and monitors. Watkins points to one of the monitors and Lynn sees a thermal image of several night runners gathered a short distance away from the northeastern corner of the wall.

  “They arrived just a few minutes ago,” Watkins says. “So far, they haven’t moved much. They’ve just been standing there looking at the wall.”

  Lynn watches as the small group runs off to the side by the corner and stops once again. The night runner’s movement vanishes from one monitor and appears on another. The fact that they appear to be looking at the wall in a calculated manner sends shivers up her spine. She sees one of the night runners, which appears to be a female although it’s hard to tell on the thermal image, look down the wall one way and then the next. This heightens Lynn’s worry and she feels goose bumps form on her arms.

  “That’s kind of creepy,” Watkins says, standing just behind her shoulder.

  “You’re not fucking kidding,” Lynn replies.

  They both look on as one night runner begins running at the wall. The screen almost whites out completely and there is a muted roar from outside. The ground beneath her boots trembles ever so slightly. The screen clears and Lynn sees a hole that shows up warmer than the surrounding area. Small wisps of warmer smoke drift slowly upward. The image reveals the small pack of night runners lying on the ground. She sees a softer image of one night runner near the hole. Continuing to watch, Lynn sees the other night runners shakily pick themselves up. They soon turn and run off into the night.

  “That’ll teach ‘em,” Watkins says as they vanish beyond sight.

  “I hope so. I really hope so,” Lynn agrees. “Keep watch and wake me if you see anything else.”

  “Will do,” Watkins responds.

  Lynn glances at Watkins quickly before leaving to head back to her room. She ponders how Watkins will sometimes use titles and sometimes not. She’s noticed that he will use them when they are gearing up for action or in it but not when they are standing down. In the past, she would be correcting him, but, well, that’s in the past she thinks shrugging. She enters her cubicle and quietly removes her boots. The chill of the night runner’s actions still remain with her as she lies down. The images on the screen stay with her until she drifts off to sleep.

  Sandra returns to her pack and they feed on the small, furry ones that are in mass throughout the rubble of the structures. Seeing the sky above her lighten a degree, she gathers her pack and runs south to their new lair. They have eaten well and have found a significant source of food even if it is hard to catch. For a short time, she had her pack stand off a distance waiting for the prey to come out. Once the food became abundant and in the open once again, she and her pack pounced. She is one of the last packs to return and they enter the lair.

  She sees Michael standing just inside the entry to the interior and senses his anger. She sees the image he sends her to join him. Directing her pack to find a place on the floor, she walks over to Michael. He glares at her as she makes her way to him.

  In the vocal language, he asks, “Why did you take your pack close to the two-legged lair when I specifically told you not to?”

  “There was food in that direction. I followed the scent there,” she answers.

  Her voice still sounds harsh and comes out in a croak. Some words break like a child coming into puberty. Communicating in this manner makes her throat sore and feel raw.

  “You are not to go there again unless I say so. Especially if there is the noise in the sky. We need to preserve the pack,” Michael says in a hushed but firm tone.

  “Then why not destroy them before they do the same to us?” Sandra asks, knowing if that happens then her intent will be to locate and capture the two-legged one that haunts her thoughts. After killing the female, she adds to herself.

  “We will, but for now, we will pull back and establish our hunting grounds. We will keep the pack safe and whole. You know that the two-legged ones are dangerous,” Michael growls.

  “That’s exactly why we need to destroy them,” Sandra snarls.

  Sandra feels the tension between them build. She knows what she wants but also knows her pack is much smaller than the gathering Michael has brought together. And knows that Michael can and will call her pack away from her if he needs to. That will leave her helpless with her young one and will ruin her plans of the two-legged one. Sandra also knows that Michael would have no problem killing her if she wasn’t carrying her young one.

  “That will happen when we figure out how. And when I say. Now is the time to pull back, preserve the pack, hunt, and plan. We have a safe place and we will keep it that way,” Michael says with another growl.

  Grunting her displeasure, Sandra agrees but knows she will plan on her own. For now, she will watch and wait.

  * * * * * *

  I wake early feeling Lynn sleeping close behind me. The usual morning stupor I usually find myself in when waking vanishes in a moment as my mind registers what the day will bring. I ease up leaving the warmth of the covers for the chill of the interior. My head aches and feels foggy as if it is filled with cotton. I’ve felt this before in confined places with people sleeping. I’ll have to check with Bannerman to see that we are airing this place out during the day and that the ventilation works. Of course, he has a million things on his plate as well. I make a note to see if he needs more help.

  Rising so I don’t w
ake Lynn, I slide on my boots, part the doorway curtain, and step into the building proper. Walking to and leaning on the metal pipe railing that circles the second story, I look over the quiet interior. I nod at Watkins standing across from me. The others of Alpha Team on watch are stationed on both the first and second floor. There aren’t many others up and about this early.

  I turn to see Robert and Michelle, engaged in a conversation, near the railing outside of the cubicle they’ve been sharing. It’s apparent from their body language that, while not a heated discussion, they are at least having a serious one. I turn back to the interior giving them a semblance of privacy. They talk for a moment longer and then I hear Robert’s footsteps on the linoleum floor as he walks in my direction. I glance over and notice something close to a glare from Michelle as she looks at me for a second before going back in their room. Robert, with his black fatigues, vest, and M-4 slung across his back, leans on his elbows on the rail next to me.

  He lets out a heavy sigh. “Trouble?” I ask.

  “Nah. She’s just a little pissed that I keep going out with you. She wants me to stay here with her,” he answers.

  “So that must be the twin laser beams she shot at me. She has a point you know. You should consider staying here with her,” I say.

  “Yeah, well, that’s not going to happen. It’s not that I don’t want to but maybe when this all settles down. Right now, I need to learn and get the experience but she doesn’t want to hear that. After all, old man, someone has to be there when you slow down,” Robert says.

  “Settle down? That may not happen in any of our lifetimes. I hope it does though. I’m getting tired,” I reply.