Read Online A New World: Sanctuary by John O'Brien - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: John O'Brien
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wave Robert over to join me and we walk over to the base operations building, slinging my new M-4 across my back. I also keep my current one because I know it is sighted in and want it handy just in case something comes up.
The black uniform and vest are soaking up the heat as the sun’s rays stream down. In the shadow of the building and with Robert at my side, I peer in the glass panel set in the door, checking out the hallway beyond. The hallway, as before, is partially lit from the radiated light through the glass panels. Nothing is moving and I open the door. Stepping inside, I look into the weather shop to my immediate left through a sizable pane set in a wooden door. The interior is well-lit from light filtering in through the large windows on the building’s front. The room looks the same as before. A small amount of dust is gathered on the floor. I don’t see any tracks in the dust so know that this room has not been entered since my last visit.
I proceed in. Dust stirs faintly from the breeze created by the opening of the door. Robert is behind me as I walk into the room proper. A rank smell of decomposition rises to my nose; not overpowering but it is unmistakable.
“Whew,” Robert says quietly.
“I know. That’s something you never get used to. I’m guessing it must be the ones I shot in the back room last week,” I say waving my hand in front of my face, trying to fan the smell away.
We walk over to the desk amid the dust and odor of death. Peering over the counter, I see a variety of phone books off to the side. I can barely reach them over the counter but paw through, pushing some to the side until I come up with on for the Olympia area. Grabbing that one, I bring it up and look through until I verify there is a place in the area down south that has the type of security doors I am thinking about using as our main line of defense at Cabela’s.
I take the phone book and we exit onto the ramp. The girls have finished changing by the time we arrive back. The noise of voices and doors shutting permeate the area as the other teams get ready to head out on their search. Vehicles start up and proceed off the ramp individually, heading off to the areas Lynn assigned them. My thoughts go with them and I hope we can find those still holding out; hoping also there are a few of them. It’s a funny thing, sometimes I think we have quite a few people with us, and, other times I think we are woefully inadequate. Billions of people have been reduced to, well, as far as I know, us. That is mightily mind-boggling.
The last of the vehicles depart, their sound fading into the early afternoon. Mullin’s second group is left behind to guard the transport trucks. I leave instructions with them to make sure the aircraft is closed up before departing. I look around at Red Team, currently setting large cases of tools in the back of a Humvee along with some of the ammo cases, and those going with me. I have to tell you, it is very strange seeing Nic and Bri dressed in black fatigues. The dire situation we are in comes into a greater light seeing them clad like that. It really makes me realize how far we have come and also how far we have to go. Without the services we have become accustomed to, we will slide further into another potential dark age. That could be either a good or bad thing. All I know is that it will be different.
Piling into the Humvees and the Jeep, we begin our own trip. I have Mike jump in the back of the Jeep and Robert climbs in the passenger side. The 130 is sitting on the ramp with the rear ramp still open and the sun’s rays reflecting off of the surface of the wings and fuselage. With a last look around and giving the old bird a silent thanks, I close the door and drive off the ramp heading to the armory; the three Humvees carrying the others in my wake.
We stop briefly at the armory
The black uniform and vest are soaking up the heat as the sun’s rays stream down. In the shadow of the building and with Robert at my side, I peer in the glass panel set in the door, checking out the hallway beyond. The hallway, as before, is partially lit from the radiated light through the glass panels. Nothing is moving and I open the door. Stepping inside, I look into the weather shop to my immediate left through a sizable pane set in a wooden door. The interior is well-lit from light filtering in through the large windows on the building’s front. The room looks the same as before. A small amount of dust is gathered on the floor. I don’t see any tracks in the dust so know that this room has not been entered since my last visit.
I proceed in. Dust stirs faintly from the breeze created by the opening of the door. Robert is behind me as I walk into the room proper. A rank smell of decomposition rises to my nose; not overpowering but it is unmistakable.
“Whew,” Robert says quietly.
“I know. That’s something you never get used to. I’m guessing it must be the ones I shot in the back room last week,” I say waving my hand in front of my face, trying to fan the smell away.
We walk over to the desk amid the dust and odor of death. Peering over the counter, I see a variety of phone books off to the side. I can barely reach them over the counter but paw through, pushing some to the side until I come up with on for the Olympia area. Grabbing that one, I bring it up and look through until I verify there is a place in the area down south that has the type of security doors I am thinking about using as our main line of defense at Cabela’s.
I take the phone book and we exit onto the ramp. The girls have finished changing by the time we arrive back. The noise of voices and doors shutting permeate the area as the other teams get ready to head out on their search. Vehicles start up and proceed off the ramp individually, heading off to the areas Lynn assigned them. My thoughts go with them and I hope we can find those still holding out; hoping also there are a few of them. It’s a funny thing, sometimes I think we have quite a few people with us, and, other times I think we are woefully inadequate. Billions of people have been reduced to, well, as far as I know, us. That is mightily mind-boggling.
The last of the vehicles depart, their sound fading into the early afternoon. Mullin’s second group is left behind to guard the transport trucks. I leave instructions with them to make sure the aircraft is closed up before departing. I look around at Red Team, currently setting large cases of tools in the back of a Humvee along with some of the ammo cases, and those going with me. I have to tell you, it is very strange seeing Nic and Bri dressed in black fatigues. The dire situation we are in comes into a greater light seeing them clad like that. It really makes me realize how far we have come and also how far we have to go. Without the services we have become accustomed to, we will slide further into another potential dark age. That could be either a good or bad thing. All I know is that it will be different.
Piling into the Humvees and the Jeep, we begin our own trip. I have Mike jump in the back of the Jeep and Robert climbs in the passenger side. The 130 is sitting on the ramp with the rear ramp still open and the sun’s rays reflecting off of the surface of the wings and fuselage. With a last look around and giving the old bird a silent thanks, I close the door and drive off the ramp heading to the armory; the three Humvees carrying the others in my wake.
We stop briefly at the armory
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