Read Online A New World: Reckoning by John O'Brien - Free Book Online
Authors: John O'Brien
Tags: Science-Fiction, Literature & Fiction, Horror, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Genre Fiction, post apocalyptic
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when we bring the engines into reverse thrust and we use the throttles to stay in front of it. Exiting the runway, we pull onto the ramp and park in the same location that we did before. We remain in place with the engines turning, waiting to see if someone we missed on our overflight shows up. Seeing no one arrive, we shut down.
Reasonably assured that no one else is around, I assign some of Red Team to start the tedious task of refueling. Taking the others, we look over one of the Spookys sitting on the ramp nearby. Opening the crew door, stale air pours out. A check of the maintenance records and cursory pre-flight check shows the aircraft to be airworthy. It’s been sitting on the ramp for a while so we’ll run the engines to check for any fuel contamination. A run-up shows that the decontamination filters in place are still functioning. The others systems check out and we shut it down.
With the late afternoon sun drifting toward the horizon and both aircraft refueled, Red Team locates a transportation vehicle near the ramp. Gathering several batteries from other vehicles and hooking them up in a relay, it takes a few attempts to get it started. When it is successfully running, the team heads over to the bunker complex and begins emptying it of ammo for the Spooky. We fill the ammunition storage on board and crate what we can, filling the remaining space around the Stryker in the 130.
The task is finished by the time twilight settles in. I’m worried that we weren’t able to contact Greg on the flight over. That weighs on me as all of us, Red Team, Lynn, and the ammunition handlers have a bite to eat on the ramp near the back of the 130. We sit on the hard surface, watching the last of the day’s light fade toward nighttime. A chilly breeze picks up, swirling sand across the wide path we cleared as we taxied across the tarmac. Without a word spoken, we finish our MREs and gather inside, closing the ramp and crew doors, sealing them against the night. We’ll stay the night in the 130.
With the blackout panels placed on the windows, I turn on the red interior light. The others gather around as I unfold several maps showing Greg’s proposed route.
“What’s the plan?” Lynn asks, looking over my shoulder.
“Greg should have been somewhere near Luke AFB according the plan we came up with,” I say, pointing to the location on one of the maps. “He should have been able to hear our radio calls and that has me worried.”
“I agree that’s a cause for concern, but that didn’t really answer shit,” Lynn states.
“Well, we all know how plans go, so I figure we’ll head north to Albuquerque and backtrack to Petersen AFB, making calls along the way. If we don’t find him along that route, we’ll head east toward McConnell AFB,” I reply, tracing the routes with my finger.
“And if we don’t find him there?”
“Then we’ll make for Luke and search outward. Unless something drastic has happened, he’ll be somewhere along that route. Even if he had to take a different course, our radios will reach a far distance from the air. We should be able to get into communication, determine his location, rendezvous, and pick him up.”
“Are we taking both aircraft?” Robert asks.
“I’m undecided on that. I was thinking we could. Craig can fly this one. Seeing Gonzalez has handled the flight engineer position before, she could go with him. I’ll fly the Spooky with everyone else aboard,” I answer.
I would send Bri with Craig seeing how she has more experience in the flight engineer seat. Craig has a few hours in the aircraft, and even more in total. However, he doesn’t have that many in the 130, and Bri’s experience would offset his inexperience to a degree. But that would be placing her, my daughter, in an undermanned aircraft with someone with only a few hours of 130 flight time. That may not be fair, but there it is. I could also send Robert to fly the other one with Craig as a co-pilot and
Reasonably assured that no one else is around, I assign some of Red Team to start the tedious task of refueling. Taking the others, we look over one of the Spookys sitting on the ramp nearby. Opening the crew door, stale air pours out. A check of the maintenance records and cursory pre-flight check shows the aircraft to be airworthy. It’s been sitting on the ramp for a while so we’ll run the engines to check for any fuel contamination. A run-up shows that the decontamination filters in place are still functioning. The others systems check out and we shut it down.
With the late afternoon sun drifting toward the horizon and both aircraft refueled, Red Team locates a transportation vehicle near the ramp. Gathering several batteries from other vehicles and hooking them up in a relay, it takes a few attempts to get it started. When it is successfully running, the team heads over to the bunker complex and begins emptying it of ammo for the Spooky. We fill the ammunition storage on board and crate what we can, filling the remaining space around the Stryker in the 130.
The task is finished by the time twilight settles in. I’m worried that we weren’t able to contact Greg on the flight over. That weighs on me as all of us, Red Team, Lynn, and the ammunition handlers have a bite to eat on the ramp near the back of the 130. We sit on the hard surface, watching the last of the day’s light fade toward nighttime. A chilly breeze picks up, swirling sand across the wide path we cleared as we taxied across the tarmac. Without a word spoken, we finish our MREs and gather inside, closing the ramp and crew doors, sealing them against the night. We’ll stay the night in the 130.
With the blackout panels placed on the windows, I turn on the red interior light. The others gather around as I unfold several maps showing Greg’s proposed route.
“What’s the plan?” Lynn asks, looking over my shoulder.
“Greg should have been somewhere near Luke AFB according the plan we came up with,” I say, pointing to the location on one of the maps. “He should have been able to hear our radio calls and that has me worried.”
“I agree that’s a cause for concern, but that didn’t really answer shit,” Lynn states.
“Well, we all know how plans go, so I figure we’ll head north to Albuquerque and backtrack to Petersen AFB, making calls along the way. If we don’t find him along that route, we’ll head east toward McConnell AFB,” I reply, tracing the routes with my finger.
“And if we don’t find him there?”
“Then we’ll make for Luke and search outward. Unless something drastic has happened, he’ll be somewhere along that route. Even if he had to take a different course, our radios will reach a far distance from the air. We should be able to get into communication, determine his location, rendezvous, and pick him up.”
“Are we taking both aircraft?” Robert asks.
“I’m undecided on that. I was thinking we could. Craig can fly this one. Seeing Gonzalez has handled the flight engineer position before, she could go with him. I’ll fly the Spooky with everyone else aboard,” I answer.
I would send Bri with Craig seeing how she has more experience in the flight engineer seat. Craig has a few hours in the aircraft, and even more in total. However, he doesn’t have that many in the 130, and Bri’s experience would offset his inexperience to a degree. But that would be placing her, my daughter, in an undermanned aircraft with someone with only a few hours of 130 flight time. That may not be fair, but there it is. I could also send Robert to fly the other one with Craig as a co-pilot and
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