Remnant, Chapter 6

6

“Report on Future Logistics Operations

 North American Theater

Prepared by North American Logistics Command (NALCOM), Redstone Arsenal, AL”

The report was titled. I had no idea there was such a group, but then again, why would I?  I had at least heard of Redstone Arsenal. I skimmed through the first few pages, trying to glean what I could before I took a serious read.

“The events of January through July, current FY have forced a reassessment of ongoing and future logistical needs for military and civilian operations in the North American theater of operations. Trigger events that precipitated this reassessment include:

•Collapse of the Middle Eastern oil field complex and depletion of the Mexican and Venezuelan reserves have decimated the worldwide economy and affected all major developed nations. As the United States largest consumer of petroleum products, the U.S. military is particularly affected by this depletion of resources and the collapse of the infrastructure to provide it.

•Multiple earthquakes and volcanic eruptions in the Pacific Northwest and northern California, disrupting commerce, military operations, and causing heavy civilian casualties and massive damage to the infrastructure.

•Military actions against M.E. nations, Russian, Communist Chinese, Mexican and other enemy nations. Military actions included destruction of infrastructure and oil-producing geological features in the Middle East, Russia and former Soviet republics, coupled with destruction of refining and shipping capacities throughout combatant nations.”

This struck me as new news, the statement regarding the destruction of ‘geologic features’ in the war zone. ‘They blew up the fields? How? Burying a nuke?’ I wondered.

•Military actions against the United States resulted in the losses of key elements and resources formerly providing overwhelming dominance on the battlefield, within the seas, and in space. These losses, in addition to the physical losses of ships and personnel in battle, include the destruction of most U.S. shipyards capable of constructing, servicing and repairing SSN and SSBN fleet forces; loss of major contracting firms similarly responsible for Nimitz-class carriers, Aegis-class destroyers, and guided-missile frigates; and loss of space-launch capabilities on both coasts and within the continental United States.

‘No statement about ‘how many’ shipyards were lost, just that we can’t service our fleet? How could this be? Where did they refit our ships, anyway?’  It began to dawn on me that what the report was saying in this brief paragraph, was that there was a very limited time left for the U.S. Navy to remain the dominant naval force in the world. Or more correctly, for there to **be** a dominant navy.

•Pandemic influenza geared toward specific genetic identifiers that is only at this time (15 October) reaching a peak globally. HXN-1 strains appear to have stabilized with regards to mutation, achieving a status of saturation in 70% of the First World countries within 90 days of onset. Losses in terms of human skills, educational resources, and societal stability have demonstrably affected local populations to terminal conditions within as few as 30 days after onset of the virus, with longer down slope affects projected to last at least fifteen to thirty years in most areas of the world.

‘What does ‘saturation’ refer to?’ Endless questions this report.

•Losses to United States civilian and military leadership have been comparable to all other developed nations, with critical losses at all levels of leadership and performance.

•Losses to manufacturing, service, medical, and food production capabilities throughout the North American continent have likewise achieved critical levels, reaching extreme levels in the most urbanized and areas most dependent on imports of food, energy, and goods.

“Firsthand experience there,” I said aloud.  I skimmed through more pages, finding a bit of a summary of the section.

These key events have triggered dozens of expected and unexpected consequences around the world, including: 

•Secession of several parts of the United States led by communist forces under the badge, the ‘New Republic,’ and on-going conflicts between U.S. and N.R. military and militia forces.

“Finally calling them what they are, I see.”

•Collapse of Communist Chinese government, establishment of interim democratic Free China government, and failure of that government within three months due to massive human die-off from influenza, starvation, and violence.

‘Hadn’t heard that on the news,’ I thought.

•Establishment of the Islamic Caliphate, reaching through most of Europe and Asia, outside of Israeli held lands in the Middle East and North Africa.

‘And I wonder what that sentence really means…’ I wondered as I poured over the rest of the page.

•Collapse of the Canadian government into two governmental bodies, ‘New Canada’, which has asked for and received Territorial status from the United States; and ‘Free Canada’, which has asked for a ‘strategic alignment with Rebellion forces within the United States.’

“That’ll only end badly for someone,” I said.

“What was that, Dad?” Kelly asked as she fetched something from her room.

“Nothing, babe. Talking to myself.”

“You do that more and more these days.”

“I’m a good conversationalist.”

“Not.”

•Balkanization of Russia, including incursions from states bordering Russia on the south into the Caliphate, and from China. Chinese refugees appear to have captured the entire Siberian area without resistance.

•Isolation of Japanese islands from all contact to slow spread of influenza.

•Creation of a southern African totalitarian state not unlike Cambodia in the 1970’s reaching from the former South Africa to the Congo, including the southern two-thirds of the continent.

“Hmmm.” ‘Wonder who’s in charge of that little nightmare,’ I thought. Africa brought me mixed emotions.

Ten pages further on, the authors began to discuss ‘recovery.’

Key recovery efforts within the N.A. theater include:

•Re-establishing Constitution-based legal authority within areas unaffected by prolonged nuclear contamination, working within the State framework, with a strong State, weak central government model of operations.

•Collection of critical spare parts, resources, and otherwise irreplaceable technologies, and securing them in dispersed, fortified locations.

‘Fortified?’

•Construction of new industrial facilities to maintain current infrastructure and supply mission-critical components to the U.S. military and key civilian industries throughout the planned interim period of adjustment.

‘And how long is this period of adjustment, fellas?’

•Massive exploration and immediate action on new and previously exempt petroleum resources within the region, including the new oil fields off of California, Baja California, and Alaska.

•Construction and refitting of energy refineries in eleven coastal states and six interior states, seven territories, and two protectorates.

•Encouraging local governments to require individual responsibility for safety and security; production of subsistence foods; local production of goods and services; recovery and reconstruction efforts and entrepreneurship.

•Requiring State governments to enhance National Guard units from local populace for local needs.

•Distribution of medical resources to fortified regional medical research complexes.

‘Again, fortified?’

The next section was really what I was interested in.

Look Ahead—Year 1 through Year 10

Continental United States and North American Theater

“Beans and Bullets”

Key shortages in petroleum product availability at all levels will force a prioritization of available resources in a manner that will dramatically strain both the U.S. military’s force projection capability and maintaining pre-War methods of food production and industrial capacity, until new oil sources come into production in late Year 3.

Critical to sustaining a peaceful population is the production of sufficient and varied foodstuffs to ensure health and maintain an environment in which the individual can thrive.

Projections of available fuel products within the CONUS and N.A. theater illustrate that it is not possible to maintain anything but a subsistence (survival) diet for the great majority of the population, working within the pre-War methodology of food production, transport, and processing. This will certainly result in civil unrest by the end of the Year 2 growing and harvest season, beginning again with certainty, in areas that are unable to sustain farming practices due to climate, urban density and lack of farmland, or lack of water resources.  Example areas include Tucson and Phoenix, AZ, although dozens of urban areas exhibit similar unsustainable settlement patterns.

Regardless of whatever resolution comes from the ‘New Republic’ secession/rebellion effort near-term, long term survival of a large population in the Northeastern United States is not possible without fossil fuels to maintain a transitional economic and industrial model. Insufficient agricultural production currently exists within the region in an operational mode, without petroleum fuels. Additionally, on-going military operations between N.R. and U.S. forces will likely become increasingly one-sided as N.R. forces lose the ability to supply spare parts, fuel, and manpower to the rebellion effort.

Centralized farming operations and the loss of local knowledge of microclimate, advanced mechanization, and even simple farm skills have essentially doomed a large portion of the rural population to probable starvation until sufficient numbers of the surviving population learn how to produce enough food and goods to care for themselves as part of the transitional economy. Small scale industry, possible in the 1930’s is likely all but impossible now due to the lack of knowledge, tools, skill, and heritage.

Petroleum production and refinery capacity in the CONUS will not appreciate and affect market conditions until late Year 2 or early Year 3, forcing USMIL forces to dramatically scale back operations in the Mexican territories and southern battle front, at the risk of not having enough fuel to grow food for both the military and civilian population. Oil fields off of California, although known in location, are unknown in capacity and longevity. Department of Energy sources state that three years minimum will be needed to establish new production wells in the California offshore area, including construction of platforms and transport abilities.

“Band Aids”

Medical care in the CONUS, formerly the highest in the world, has now dramatically declined in availability and levels of service. While it cannot be defined as ‘third world’ in a pre-War sense, routine medical care for minor ailments is all but unavailable, and we are now witnessing a dramatic increase in deaths of those citizens formerly on ‘maintenance regimens’ of medicines for many different diseases and afflictions. With the loss of key medicines and treatments for heart patients for example, losses due to heart failure and stroke increased by six hundred percent from January through July, with the peak hitting in mid-August. CDC staff stated that this was likely thirty to forty days after regular medicines ran out, with an assumption that many patients were taking reduced quantities at regular periods, in effect, stretching their medications out to last.

Surgical procedures have also been dramatically affected by the loss of technology, staffing, supplies and medicines. Post-surgical deaths due to infection have increased with the loss of European-produced medicines, as one example. Operable conditions pre-War are now far more complicated with the losses many advanced technologies due to computer chip and program failures. 

CDC estimates that within the next seven years, the U.S. may regain up to 90% of pre-War medical abilities, assuming domestic production of pharmaceuticals through plant expansion; medical training programs are prioritized (including basic care and advanced diagnostic, surgical and post-surgical technique); and adequate individuals can be found for medical training……..

I skipped down a few more pages.

“All things shiny”

Re-establishing a national economy that is based on a recognized commodity or series of commodities is essential for all advanced economies. Formerly, and as required by the Constitution currency was backed by such commodities, until abandoned in favor of the fiat economy. As all fiat economies, the former Federal Reserve Note system failed utterly, compounding virtually all other issues the world is dealing with at present.

Presidential directives to re-establish a Federal currency based on gold, silver, nickel, and copper have been put in place, and new coinage based on ounce-weights of gold, silver, etc. re-established as well.  Old, pre-1964 silver coinage (90% silver) is accepted at face value, but post-’64 coinage, with the exception of some half-dollars (40% silver) and pre-1979 copper pennies, are now being sold or valued at the melt value of their base metals. Gold coins are being minted in $5, $10, and $20 pieces, and paper notes will be immediately redeemable for coins on demand. The base value of the nickel seems to fluctuate in value from worthless in parts of the CONUS, to face value, in selected regions.

Key issues related to the monetary system involve sheer lack of metals for coinage.  Silver, gold, and copper mines throughout the North American continent have been acquired for the creation of the new coins, but the Treasury Department expects at least some coinage will be in circulation by the end of Year 1. By the end of Year 2, there should be wide availability of silver coinage and notes, and limited availability of gold coins. Until that time arrives however, trading and barter will comprise the bulk of the local economy.

Bullion removed from New York City and Washington prior to N.R. occupation has been relocated to several secure locations well within U.S. controlled areas.

‘Interesting,’ I thought to myself. How much bullion? From where? To where? And when did they figure out they were going to lose the Northeast? How did they move it?

None of which really mattered, of course, except for my own curiosity.

Deeper into the document:

…Price controls were studied on a national basis, but deemed unworkable as local economies, including barter, sales made with existing silver-based and gold-based coins, etc., were being created and acting with more agility than the Federal response could attain.

Of Credit and Debt

Federal taxation has been set at five percent of gross income, flat across income levels. Income is now collected by the local governments transmitted to the States, and to the Federal treasury. Limited information was provided for the generation of this report regarding the process, but it is the consensus of the reporting officers that this process has been fraught with corruption and mishandling of funds. Federal workers have been paid since 1 May in scrip redeemable at Federal commissaries. Military units have similarly been compensated at base and post exchanges. Purchases by the Federal government for such compensation have been made with physical commodities, such as silver or gold coinage.

National and international banking and finance concerns, since the onset of the Second Depression, have insisted that debt obligations be fulfilled per law. President Lambert under Executive Order abolished all debt obligations for individual Citizens effective 1 September.  Debt obligations against companies, corporations and municipalities were forgiven on 1 August, after the Supreme Court ruled that lenders in the test case had breached fiduciary duty by attempting to collect on debt instruments that had been sold, and resold, until the true owner of the note could not be determined.  In most cases, including the test case, the debtor company had in fact ceased operations within weeks of the onset of the Depression, with most physical assets being stolen, looted, or destroyed (Eurovian Finance Ltd. Vs. Detroit Motor Company).

Insurance concerns worldwide similarly, ceased operations within three months of the onset of the Depression and the outbreak of War. In more than ninety percent of all cases, no claims were paid due to the complete collapse of the investment portfolios held by the insurance firms, which were wiped out in the economic collapse. Individual claims against such firms, while certainly legally founded, will with certainty fail, due to the evaporation of the insurance firms from the new economic landscape.

The Domestic Political Future

Currently, national representation is in place from all fifty states, Puerto Rico, Mexican territories, Canadian Territories, and Pacific territories, despite insurrections in several states. The full Senate was seated on 1 September, followed by the full House on 15 September.  Interim appointees, selected by State governments, will formally run for office next November.

The stability of the current political environment is a direct result of the preceding Administration’s Executive Order to immediately appoint qualified individuals to serve at the behest of the State leadership, should current representation fail to fulfill their obligation due to medical issues, etc. No major national legislative issues have been addressed, other than emergency and interim programs to maintain cohesive, Constitutionally mandated Federal control, and prepare for a dramatically smaller Federal government over the next five to fifteen years.

The success or failure of political leadership at all levels depends on people with integrity with a willingness to serve, sometimes in situations of grave hardship. Local leaders in particular, are critical to maintaining local order, control, and hope for recovery. Most successes locally have greatly enhanced the ability of the local population to cut dependency on the Federal response, which both frees up the Federal forces for other areas, and reduces the need overall, for involvement by the national government and military.

I heard the impending sound of dinner, and quickly flipped to the end of the report, not really knowing what sort of conclusion might be waiting for me.  Nonetheless I was surprised by the ten-point text on the bottom of the final page:

‘The preceding document is the consensus of six of eight NALCOM officers assigned to complete the assessment. Two dissenting staff officers withheld their consent signatures on the report, stating that the report was far too optimistic over the timeframe presented.’

Remnant, Chapter 5

5

Saturday

October Twenty-First

10:00 a.m.

Packed into Alan’s truck, we made the familiar drive past our barter store, now christened Valley Metro Barter, over to the community center. The store was closed until noon on Saturdays, and only open until two p.m. Most of the time folks respected our need to do other things on Saturdays. Sundays, we were closed altogether. Our regular traders knew that they could reach us if they needed to on either CB or through law enforcement, if there was some sort of emergency.

“Alan, do you mind turning on the news?” I asked.

“Nope, not a bit,” he said as he turned on the stereo.

“Thanks,” I said. CBS was just coming on. Karen and Libby were talking about some dessert or other, while Kelly, seated between Alan and I, and Marie, in the back seat with ‘the Mom’s’, were both reading paperbacks.

“CBS correspondent Drew Michaelson reporting from the Gulf Coast, where Hurricane Susan is expected to make landfall later this evening.  Virtually the entire local population along the Coast, from about a hundred miles on either side of Mobile, have evacuated north in the face of this storm, which may be upgraded to Category Five by this evening.”

“Landfall is expected around nine p.m., with the storm surge hitting the coast well in advance of that. FEMA evacuation centers up to five hundred miles away, still strained from Hurricane Nellie four weeks ago are once again bursting at the seams.”

“They just can’t get a break down there,” Karen said.

“Nope,” I agreed.

“….salvage operation was expected to be suspended in anticipation of effects from this storm. Military authorities report that the population of New Orleans in the wake of Nellie is less than ten thousand, virtually all of who are without safe drinking water or electricity. Most, upon orders of evacuation, fired upon authorities, demanding to be left alone.”

“The President announced that as of November first, recovery operations in New Orleans, will cease permanently—the city will be abandoned except for those that refuse to leave.”

“Saw that coming after Katrina,” I said as the broadcast continued.

“Why?” Kelly asked.

“Big chunks of it—like, half--are below sea level. Without pumps and electricity, the place goes under. Toss a few hurricanes at the place and you have a big mud flat with some human-built artifacts sticking out of it.”

“Why’d they build there in the first place?” she asked.

“Well parts were above sea level. Those parts don’t usually flood too badly. Flood, sure, but a foot or five. Not like the low-lying areas. Somebody figured out if they build dikes around the place and pump the water out, people would buy the former swamp flats and build houses there.”

“Greed over common sense,” Alan interjected.

“Yep.”

“…last of sixteen platforms intended for the California offshore complex is expected to come on line by June of next year, quadrupling offshore oil production over the first quarter of this year in the Santa Barbara Field.”

“Well that’s some good news,” I said. “Domestic oil reserves. Who’da thunk it.”

“Drop in a bucket,” Alan said as we pulled into the unplowed, unshoveled parking lot. “Won’t make a dang bit of difference up here.”

“Probably right,” I said. “Might allow some of that Wyoming gas back up here on a regular basis though, instead of the hit and miss we’ve had all year. I noted that all three of the vehicles in the parking lot, with the exception of the little Escape, had spent the night. The snow was untouched.

“Thought that the centers were on the plow list,” Alan said as we got out of the truck.

“They are. But there’s only four plows running right now in the Valley, four in the city limits, two up north. I’m sure they’re working on the roads to the Central Line now. We’ll get it eventually.”

The Central Line—Red in the Valley, Blue from the north side to what used to be ‘downtown’, Green from the west plains by the Airport and Fairchild Air Force Base, were our commuter and cargo train lines. Red and Blue were built just this year, based on my recommendations that without them, most of us would be ‘a-foot’ as my late Dad used to say. Without gas to run our cars and trucks, we were walking. Train tracks, built on or in our former wide arterials, took months to lay. The Green line at least, operated on pre-Domino trackage. The Burlington Northern Santa Fe lines, the Union Pacific Lines that weren’t wrecked, still operated when freight lines or passenger cars made it through, which was, infrequent at best.

“So long as they don’t plow me in.”

“You? You could climb a tree with this. That Escape can hardly get out of it’s own way,” I said, only half-kidding, as I took a load of books inside. Carl was there to meet us.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hey. How’d breakfast go?” I said as I set the box down on the counter.

“OK. Changed plans on us. I thought we were making pancakes. French toast instead.”

“Easy enough.”

“Sure, until you have to cut it all for the little ones. They can pick up a pancake. They don’t quite manage with French toast.”

“Why the change of plans?”

“Not enough flour.”

“Since when?” I asked. This should not have been a problem. We had plenty of wheat, and the commercial mills were up and running.

“Since somebody swiped two hundred pounds,” Kevin Miller, the manager of the center replied for Carl.

“From where?”

“From the delivery truck yesterday. We were unloading right here. Brought the hand truck inside with one load, left the step van door open, came back, gone.”

“Report it?” I asked.

“Sure. Like it’ll matter.”

“It matters to me,” I said as we went into Kevin’s office. “You think staff?”

“No way. No one here would do something like this. I’m certain of it.”

“Which leaves somebody in the neighborhood. I assume you didn’t see any cars or trucks or anything.”

“Nope, and we didn’t hear anything either.”

“We’ll have to be a little more careful obviously.”

“Remember, they had all of three minutes to do it. No way somebody did it on foot.”

“I’ll get some more flour down here today from the store. Or, maybe Alan will. Bucking flour bags might be pushing it a bit for me. Ron should be at the store at noon.”

“Thanks. That’d be great.”

“So how’s the new BAR?” I asked, referring to his cloned Browning.

“Unbelievable,” he said with a wide smile. “When you’re all healed up, we’ll have to try them out. It’s like the difference between a stock V-8 and one that’s balanced and blueprinted.”

“Really….” I asked, wondering exactly how much better a rifle modeled after my original could get.  I didn’t have that much experience with mine, really, but mine was superb. In my opinion of course.

“As accurate as a .308 at a thousand yards.”

“This isn’t a one-off fluke?”

“First six in production, almost identical performance.”

“Who was the shooter?”

“Two, Army marksmen. Two Air Force, two Marines.”

“Bet that was something to see.”

“It was at that. Yours will be ready in the next two weeks.”

“Mine?”

“Couldn’t have machined the trigger assemblies without your original. Tightened them up considerably with our better machining and better metal. I can rework your original trigger too, if you like.”

“That’s OK. I prefer to keep it the way it is.”

“As it should be, I suppose. What brings you in today?”

“Thought I’d read some stories to the kids.”

“Good for you. Practicing for grandfatherhood?”

“Don’t put me in that category yet, Kev. Kids are a little young for that yet. Like, years and years. If I have anything to say about it that is….”

“Young John will probably get a head start on that.”

“Could be. Sarah’s a good egg though.”

“She’s all that. She’d be a first rate doc with a degree and med school.”

“That’s probably not going to happen, but she is a first rate EMT, or so the guys at Station One say.”

“Hon, you coming? We have a full house,” Karen said around the doorjamb. “Sammy wants you to read to him.”

“Be right there, hon,” I said. “Kevin, duty calls.”

“Enjoy. Watch out for little Ina. She’ll steal your heart.”

“We’ll be fine, see you before we head out.”

“Thanks again for the flour, Rick.”

“No problem.”

After reading to little Ina, and changing diapers with Karen and Libby on six little ones, Carl and John bundled up the older kids for a trip out to the playground, where the snow was just about right to build a snowman. I watched from the lone surviving original window on the east end of the center, and wandered down to the maintenance room to check on the heating plant that one of the mechanical engineers on Metro staff had cobbled up.

The original heating system was a relatively small natural gas fired boiler, which in turn fed radiant heat loops embedded in the floors. Without natural gas though, systems like this were dead. Thanks to Dale Rieger though, a workaround was created that consisted of a wood fired boiler.  Either hand-feeding wood into the firebox, or the much more sophisticated auto-feeding ‘pellet’ system of wood burning would work…the key was not oversizing the boiler in the first place. In his former life, Dale worked for a mechanical engineering and contracting firm. So far, I’d discovered that what Dale wasn’t able to figure out or fix, probably wasn’t worth doing anyway. His first big repair and adaptation job was the heating plant for the Public Works Building that held the Metro offices. That took him, I understood, all of three weeks to repair and retrofit, pretty much all by himself.

This system had been on line for four weeks so far, with twice daily feedings of the hopper for the firebox. Kevin’s staff loved the thing. Heat this year was not something to do without.  The fire department safety engineers were far more skeptical, until Rieger built a system for Station One, and the department granted conditional approval…still, one accident was all it would take.

I heard my name being called from down the hall.  “Down here,” I replied.

“Mr. Drummond? You have a call on the radio,” Lisa, Kevin’s assistant called to me.

“Be right there,” I said as I made my way back to the office. I heard John’s voice, in an imitation of The Grinch, coming from the kindergarten room. I heard Karen, Libby and the girls try to herd the kids into the mud-room where I’m sure lots of soaked coats, boots and gloves would be residing.

Kevin’s office held a county radio, much more elaborate than mine. I grabbed the plastic-wrapped headset and put it on.

“One thirty-seven to Spokane.”

“One thirty-seven, be advised of shipment of four parcels to Fort Walla Walla. Sending party asked to provide you this notice.”

“Understood. Anything else?”

“Unit one oh-seven is en-route to location ‘Granite.’”

“Understood, one thirty-seven out,” I replied. Karen was peeking around the corner, with ‘that look’ in her eye.

“One thirty-seven,” the pleasant female voice replied. ‘Not one I recognized,’ I thought.

“Location ‘granite?’” Karen asked.

“Here.”

“Why’s it called that?”

“Because that’s where I am. That’s my location code today. Security forces’ idea to change a codeword daily, in case somebody’s still looking for me.”

“I hoped this was over now.”

“It might be. I don’t know, nobody does.”

“What’s Mike need?”

“Nary a clue. We’ll wait and see.”

“Soon?”

“Hon, no idea. I expect so. Need help with nap time?”

“Pretty quick. C’mon. Little Ina wants another story.”

“K. I think ‘Dinner at the Panda Palace’ this time.”

“Good. I thought you pretty much wore out ‘If you Give a Mouse a Cookie.’”

“I like it—always have,” I said as I took her hand and walked back down the hall.

“Softie,” Karen said as she gave me a squeeze.

Once the kids were down for naps, the afternoon shift took over and Carl, John and the girls headed home for their afternoon of chores and precious little free time. Karen, Libby and Alan had headed down to the store, while I awaited Mike at the center. I’d hoped to have a few minutes to talk with Sarah, John’s girlfriend, but she was in a class with two senior doctors on rotation from Valley General. Finally at two-thirty, a Humvee truck pulled into the parking lot. A light snow was beginning to fall.  I met Mike and two camouflage clad Army guardsmen at the door. Both guardsmen had their M-16’s at the ready, and were actively scanning the area.

“Mike, what’s going on?”

“Inside, Rick. I’ve got some bad news.”

“What?”

“Inside.”

Kevin was packing up his papers and getting ready to leave for the day. “Kevin, mind if we use your office for a minute?”

“Sure, Sheriff. No problem,” he said as he grabbed his suitcase and backpack and headed out. “I’m done here anyway.”

“Thanks,” Mike said as Kevin headed out. I took a seat.

“OK, enough of the secrecy. What’s going on?”

“Pete Wolfson’s dead.”

“My God. What happened.”

“Honestly, it looks like a suicide. We’re investigating.”

I was quiet for a few moments. “I don’t understand this at all…”

“I don’t either. That’s why we’re looking into it.”

“His family…does he have...”

“Died in the flu. Wife, two daughters, one son. Lost his inlaws, too.”

“I didn’t know any of that.”

“He preferred to deal with it privately.”

“He was what, thirty-five?”

“Thirty-three two weeks ago.”

I took a long pause, got up and looked out at the snow.

“I cannot imagine what it must have been like, losing them all like that.”

“Yeah.”

I stood there for a good couple of minutes, remembering the last conversation I had with Pete, him telling me that he’d ‘keep things straight until you’re back on your feet.’

“How are you going to break the news?”

“There’ll be an announcement on the five p.m. news. That, ‘he passed away while on duty.’”

“How’s staff dealing with it?”

“Not well. Emma saw him just before it happened. She’s under sedation at the triage center.”

“Sh*t,” I said. Emma was the second administrative assistant to fill that post since Kamela Gardner passed on.

“Rick, we could use you if you’re up to it.”

“I’ll be there. Once you clear it with Karen. She’d likely have my head if I were to just ‘tell’ her that I’m going back to work.”

“I can do that. Let’s get you home,” Mike said.

“Store, actually. We’re moving some stuff about this afternoon. Or, more correctly, everyone else is. I get to watch.”

“O.K. Let’s go.”

The conversation with Karen went about as well as could be expected, which was to say, she was disapproving with both ‘the look’ and her body language, seeing in the end that Mike wouldn’t be asking her unless it was really his last, best option. Still, I knew that it would be a tough adjustment for both of us. I’d become accustomed to being taken care of at home, working when I felt up to it, as long as I remembered to stay out of Karen’s way…

By five p.m., I was back home for a dinner of stew and some time with Karen and the family. I also had a lot of catching up to do, with some status reports that Mike had brought out. Most of the reading would wait until after everyone headed back to their respective homes, after dinner. There was one report, marked ‘Sensitive but Unclassified’ that piqued my interest. I excused myself from the pre-dinner bustle of the main floor, and headed upstairs to our bedroom to find a quiet place to read.

The report, about a half-inch thick, was one of the last things that Pete Wolfson had been reading. ‘Was this a trigger?’ I thought as I took it out of the manila envelope. I was still dumbfounded about Pete.

Remnant, Chapter 4

4

Saturday morning

October Twenty-First

“Hey, Dad. Couldn’t sleep again?” Carl said as the creak of his door woke me, startling me for a moment. Buck and Ada both popped up and hurried over to Carl for a morning scratch. Buck looked for something in Carl’s room to steal, and then bring him, which was one of his favorite dog games.

“Nope. What time is it?” I asked, noting it seemed still dark outside.

“Five-thirty. John and I are working the morning shift at the Community Center. Starts at six.”

“Orphanage?”

“Yep. The kids seem to like me but they’re all over John.”

“Good for you guys. You have a talent there.”

“Thanks. We’re making breakfast today. Can I take your car?”

“Sure. You might need the four wheel drive.”

“Are they going to plow if it’s deep?”

“Arterials only. We’re short on diesel…or will be unless we get things ironed out.”

“What about the side streets?”

“That’s going to be up to the neighborhoods. We don’t have the resources to do all the streets, and there aren’t that many cars running. People are conserving. We’ll take care of the feeders to the train lines, roads to the schools and hospitals, nothing outside the core areas.”

“But it’s OK for me to use the car?”

“Yeah. Blue pass. Don’t forget.”

“Right. ‘Community Center Staff.’”

“Yep. Don’t forget to put it in four-by.”

“K thanks. I better get going.”

“Brush teeth and wash up first.”

“Yep. I have a dentist appointment on Monday.”

“Me, too.”

“Where are the keys?” He asked as he loaded up his toothbrush.

“On the hook,” I said as I got up out of the chair. I heard Carl brush as I opened the west curtains, looking out toward the barn, Alan and Ron’s homes, and a good foot and a half of new snow.

“How’s it look?” Carl asked after he finished up.

“Deep. I wanted to get some pruning done on the fruit trees down south. Not going to happen.”

“You never seem to have a problem finding something to keep yourself busy.”

“And everybody else, you didn’t say.”

“Figured it was a little early to take a shot at you,” he grinned as he grabbed his daypack. I’d had each of our extended family members put together a miniature emergency kit, designed primarily to get them back ‘home.’ All of us now of course had larger backpacks as well…the get out of Dodge pack.

“Many thanks,” I said. “Hey, drop this at the store for the day shift sentries,” I said as I handed him some scones that Kelly and Marie had made.

“K. See you at two.”

“Or sooner. Mom and I might pop by later.”

“On foot?”

“We’ll find a way. Might take the pickup since it’s ethanol powered. We’ve gotta go anyway though I think. Aren’t Kelly and Marie babysitting later?”

“Yeah, I think so. Libby, too.”

“Drive safe.”

“Always,” he said as he closed the back door. I watched him through the darkness as he slogged along, both dogs quite happily bounding through the new snowfall, to the makeshift carport that held the little Ford Escape that replaced my big Expedition. The hybrid Escape was better on gas than anything else available at the time, but I sometimes missed the heft of the big SUV. I did however; truly hate the grey-brown-dark green camouflage paint on the little thing. It was the County’s idea of ‘blending in.’ I thought it looked silly.

Carl drove the little SUV out of the carport, then remembered the gate, and had to get out to open it. Before he took two steps, I saw John slog past him to it, pushing it open through the snow, and in a few moments, they were gone. I decided to make some tea. The dogs decided they wanted ‘in.’

After water was on to boil on the electric range, I lit up the woodstove, noting that it was only fifty-two degrees inside. No wonder I was chilly.  At six, I decided to try to catch the morning news. I knew that there was a fair chance that the TV station might be up and running. A year ago we had seventy-five channels available. Today, we had one…most of the time, that is. Three radio stations though…some of the time. And one on FM. Always forgot about that one.

“…six oh-five, October Twenty-First. Thank you for joining us this morning on Television Spokane.  If you’ve looked outside this morning, you’ll see that we have our fifth official snowfall of the fall season, this one is expected to continue until eight a.m. local time, according to Air Force meteorologist Archie Brennan at his Mica Peak weather radar station. Archie? Is that right?” the newscaster, a twenty-something guy, was just a little too perky for Saturday morning this early. Maybe he was drinking real coffee in that mug, I thought.

“Yes, sir, Bryan. More tomorrow most likely.”

“Thanks, Arch. We’ll join you at twenty-five past for the complete weather forecast.”

“See you then, sir,” the impossibly young Air Force meteorologist replied to the stationary remote camera.

“Our winter weather conditions are obviously affecting essential transit, and will continue to do so until main streets to the Central Lines are cleared. Metro road crews are already out plowing the arterials at this hour, and expect to be working through the morning. A reminder, neighborhoods are responsible for clearing or packing side streets for at least single-vehicle passage.”

“In local news overnight, Metro emergency response teams report that two additional deaths have been attributed to carbon monoxide poisoning due to faulty ventilation…” the broadcaster then repeated for the umpteenth time, the guidelines for indoor heat sources and the symptoms of carbon monoxide poisoning. We probably had a statistic lurking somewhere on how many people had died of CO poisoning since the Domino. It was dozens, certainly I knew. 

I poured my tea, and sweetened it with the fireweed honey that Don Pauliano had traded for…then tuned my head back into the broadcast.

“Metro Interim Administrator Peter Wolfson in a press release today announced that weekly commercial air travel service to Spokane would resume in early November. National Airlines, the recent amalgamation of most major American carriers based in Denver and Salt Lake, has already resumed service in the central U.S., the Southwest, and in the Canadian Territories.”

“And who, Pete, do you expect to have money to go on a commercial plane?” I asked the TV. I knew that this was part of ‘recovery’, but that it was also a double-edged sword. Part of our ‘success’ if it could be called that, was our isolation. More contact was more exposure to the flu or its mutation; more meddling from the Federals. Maybe that’s what I was worrying about. 

“…confirmation that the Metro shipment of biomatter electric generating units were destroyed in an attack on the California-bound transport by unknown forces. All personnel, including rail engineers and Northwest Command soldiers, are reported as killed in action. This shipment was the first shipment to Central California as part of a contract for continuing out-of-season food shipments to the Inland Northwest. No comments have been released by Metro Administration on how this loss affects projected food supplies over the coming months…”

“Not well, as anyone with a brain could figure…” I said to the radio.

“From the Seattle Zone, word that the Navy dredging operation has been completed from Edmonds south to the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard at Bremerton, where ships stranded by the uplift of the bottom of Puget Sound have been sitting since the Domino. Navy crews and shipyard workers have been returning two mothballed aircraft carriers—the USS Ranger and USS Constellation--to operational status, and preparing more than two dozen other ships to relocate to the Bellingham Naval Yard. Rear Admiral Louis Edwards refused to comment on the potential to restore the Bremerton Yard to operation, but dredge workers who have been working since March on the salvage effort commented that the channel has required almost daily work to maintain a sea lane, and that after the salvage of the stranded vessels is complete, the Navy will likely abandon the channel. Sixteen men were lost last month on a dredge that overturned in rough seas, bringing the death toll of the operation to twenty-nine.”

“Finally, in Walla Walla today, Governor Hall is expected to announce the final phase for repairs to the former Bonneville Power Administration network, including restoration of control operations and electrification of large areas of the Northwest lost in the Domino and in the Third War. Substantial portions of both Washington and Oregon remain without electricity, and exports of power from remaining operational dams have been impossible. This as you know resulted in massive cascading brownouts throughout the American Southwest this past summer. FEMA officials estimate that deaths due to hyperthermia and lack of potable water in the region exceeded twenty-five thousand, but cannot be confirmed…”

“Hey, hon,” Karen said. “Breakfast ready?” she said as she hugged me from behind and kissed my neck.

“Nope, but we have eggs, and eggs. And Spam. And some cheese.”

“You haven’t eaten yet?”

“Nope. Carl woke me up when he left for the Center. Just made tea and got the fire going. Omelet?” I asked as I poured her some tea.

“Sure. I’ll go get dressed. You going to plow today?”

“I’ve been toying with the idea, yes. You reading my mind again?”

“I know you like playing on your tractor.”

“Fact.”

“Do you think you’re mended up enough for that?” Karen said as she wrapped her hands around the coffee cup, and I stirred in some honey.

“Yeah, I still get a stitch in my side though. That’s supposed to be ‘normal’ though. So they say.”

“None of that phony Spam for me though. But a scone and some of the plum jam would be good.”

“As you wish. Dress warmly.”

“So I see. How cold?”

“Twenty-six, a little while ago.”

“Lovely.”

After breakfast, Karen roused our sleepy daughter to remind her of her babysitting shift at the community center, where Carl and John were hopefully cooking up a storm for the orphan population, which hovered around twenty, but sometimes grew to double that depending on in-migration and rates of adoption. Marie and Libby would also go for a four-hour stint, while Karen had this weekend off.

The orphan issue was on my part, utterly unforeseen. Too many variables came into play to predict it, although in hindsight, I should’ve at least thought of it once.  A more-or-less complete collapse of the health care system we’d become accustomed to, or perhaps more correctly, a reversion to a third-world standard of available medical care; the devastating effect of the Guangdong Flu; exposure to weather; substance abuse.  We survivors found ourselves serving as ‘Uncles’ and ‘Aunties’ and ‘cousins’ to children that ranged from days old to teenagers. We tried to work at least a few hours a week at our local center, and found that the continuity of familiar faces helped the kids adjust. Many children had already been adopted, and we thought that by this time, we were on the down slope of the problem. There were fewer kids being brought in or being dropped off. I hoped that this was a good sign. 

The downside was the percentage of children with serious medical conditions, mental or emotional issues that proved in many cases, impossible for lay people to deal with.  It was certainly more than I could deal with for any extended period. I was finding myself more fragile than I thought I used to be. Perhaps my age was catching up with me. Perhaps, I’d just seen too much.

“Babe, are you going to drive us over later?” Karen asked.

“Was planning on it. But five of us aren’t going to fit in the pickup.”

“How about Alan’s truck?”

“How ‘bout you ask him. I know he’s OK on diesel for now, hasn’t used his allotment by a long-shot.”

“That way you can plow and not have to shuttle us around.”

“That’s OK, I’d like to go over later.”

“We’re leaving at quarter to ten if you’re ready.”

“I’ll do my best,” I said as I gave her a kiss and buttoned up my coat.

Outside, the little tractor was parked on the far side of the garage in another carport, built of one-inch diameter PVC pipe in a half arch, with a heavy brown military tarp for covering. I should have built something like this years ago, I decided as I fired up the ancient four banger. I moved slowly, trying and not succeeding to work the beast without any pain in my side. I decided that I needed to get used to it.

With a few minutes of warm-up, I had cleared out the driveway, the path to the barn, root cellar and the paths to Alan and Ron’s places. An hour later, I’d moved north up our street and then made a swipe at all the streets that surrounded our block. I cleaned out the driveways of all of the houses that folks were living in on all four streets, too and turned down breakfast cakes and tea on several occasions. I did have a Pauliano coffee at Joe’s though, where he was out getting his turkeys, pigs and chickens fed.  

“How’s Joan today?”

“Arthritis is bothering her.  You hear anything about medicines coming any time soon?”

“Not much. I’ll see what I can find out for you though.”

“You healing up all right? You look a dang site better than the last time we saw you,” Joe said, his Italian accent more pronounced than usual. They’d visited me the day after I made it home. I was still pretty much horizontal at that point.

“I’m getting better. Didn’t hurt to plow at least. Well, not much anyway.”

“Gettin’ old’s not for sissies.”

“You got that right. Are you getting what you need from Alan and Ron?”

“They’re good boys. They’re doing just fine by us. Some of that arthritis medicine sure would be good though.”

“I’ll check into it. Let you know today.”

“Appreciate it.”

“I better get moving or I’ll be in trouble with the missus,” I said as I handed him the heavy mug. ‘Darn that was good bourbon,’ I thought to myself.

“Thanks, Rick. Your pig’s lookin’ good. Should dress out nice.”

“Thanks, Joe. I’ll be in touch,” I said as I started up the tractor. It wasn’t like Joe to hammer anything home like the arthritis medicine that Joan had had to use to keep pain in check. It must be getting bad.

I drove back home and found Alan’s truck in my driveway. He must have circled around from the north I decided, while I was looping the block on the other end.  I backed the little Ford into it’s garage and shut it down, remembering to use the quick-disconnect on the battery and shut off the fuel.

“Mornin’” I said to Alan, clad today in insulated Carhartt bibs.

“Howdy. Thanks for doing the roads. You up to it?”

“Doin’ OK. Better than sitting on my butt.”

“I see you’re traveling dangerously,” he said, looking at me a little funny.

“Huh?”

“Sidearm. Haven’t seen you without one since what, January?”

“Completely forgot it. I must be slipping.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell my sister.”

“Thanks. I’ll…oh, too late,” I said, looking over my brother-in-laws’ shoulder. Karen was holding my ancient .45 in its holster, by her pinky finger. One of our hand-held radios was in the other.

“Forget something?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“I better check you before you go out the door like I did with the kids in grade school.”

“Might not hurt,” I said as Alan chuckled.

“You OK?” Karen asked.

“Yes, for the umpteenth time,” I said with a little irritation. “Everyone waiting on me?”  I noticed that Libby, Marie and Kelly were in the idling truck already, and waved at them.

“Ten more minutes and we would be. Do you want to get cleaned up before we go?”

“Absolutely. Give me a couple minutes,” I said. “Hon, got a sec?” I asked quietly as I headed to the house.

“For you, all day,” she said as we went into the house. “What’s up?”

“Joe. He made it a point, like hammered on it, that Joan needs some arthritis meds. I don’t think she’s able to get around without something like the over-the-counter stuff from the old days. Do we have anything stashed away?”

“Yeah, some anyway. Mom used some during the summer but nothing lately. You clean up and I’ll go check. I know Joan’s hip was getting to be a problem before the War, especially when it was cold.”

“K. Be right back.”

I changed out of the somewhat grubby flannel lined jeans and two layers of work shirts, washed up and pulled on clean jeans and a rag wool sweater that I’d looked forward to wearing again, once I’d lost twenty pounds. I’d done that and then some, now down thirty-five pounds from my pre-War weight. I also managed to fit into a whole lot of jeans and slacks that I’d stored for far too long. I’d noted a few days before I weighed five pounds more than I did when I married Karen. It was good in a way to not be packing the extra pounds around. Tough way to do it though….

“Find something that will work?” I asked Karen, seeing that she had three boxes of something.

“Naproxen, two boxes. Two boxes of celecoxib.”

“Cool. That’s the stuff I used when my hip was bugging me, right?”

“The naproxen. I didn’t know you had six boxes of each downstairs though.”

“It was on sale.”

“Sure it was,” she said, knowing all too well that my ‘it was on sale’ statement was really, ‘I’m buying it just in case.’

“I hope that’ll help Joan. You ready?”

“Yep. Let me get my book bag though. I have some pop-up books for the nursery.”

“K. Dogs inside?”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re all that thrilled with the idea of being out most of the day.”

“K,” I said, making sure both were inside, and that hey had enough water. “I need to call downtown before we go.”

“You better, or the weekend shift will come looking for you,” Karen said.

A few minutes later, I was at Joe’s door, and received many thanks in return.

“I’ll see if I can find more. We have more at the house, but that won’t last forever.”

“Thank you Rick. And may God bless you.”

“He has already, Joe. And you, too.”

“He has at that,” he said as I shook his hand.