A New World: Conspiracy (11 page)

We quickly stow our gear and return.
Drescoll hasn’t moved and is still lost in his own mind. Lynn walks
to him and places her hand on his shoulder. He gives a subdued
start and turns his head slowly. His red-rimmed eyes meet hers and
she whispers something to which he gives a slow nod.

Lynn quickly bathes and returns. Someone
hands her a bite to eat, which she gladly accepts. The filth that
covered her has been removed, but cleaning up and having something
to eat can’t hide the gauntness that remains. It is obvious that
she’ll need time to regain her health.

Gonzalez, Robert, Henderson, Denton, Lynn,
and Drescoll take positions around McCafferty’s casket and lift it
onto their shoulders. They proceed solemnly out the front doors,
the rest of us following.

The funeral procession makes its way to our
small cemetery – Allie’s final resting place. Seeing the markers
and the hole dug for McCafferty, I hope we won’t have to place any
others here prematurely. Our endeavors must be so that this place
remains uninhabited except for when it’s our own proper time to
leave. Although this world truly sucks, it’s the only one we have
and we must endure.

As Allie is placed on a bier set over the
open grave, the feeling of grief once again grabs hold of my heart.
After all she’s been through, to find an end in this way just
doesn’t seem right. I hear the echo of her ready laugh in my mind,
a picture of her grinning at some joke made after an operation, her
game face as we embark on yet another operation. Her small stature
contained an overly large heart that held no fear. She hung in
there during the grimmest moments. One picture emerges of her
smiling at something said at dinner, her eyes shining with the same
joy. She loved the camaraderie of the team and was loved by all in
return. She will be sorely missed.

The others of our small group of survivors
begin making their way to arranged seating. Allie’s dad is standing
off to the side staring blankly at the flag-draped coffin. With his
head hung low, Drescoll makes his way to a podium. I hear him
sniffle and wipe away a tear.

“I really don’t know what to say,” he begins
between sniffles. “Allie was a true angel…(sniffle)…who had the
biggest…(sniffle)…of hearts.” Tears begin to stream down his face.
He attempts to scrub at them, but they fall faster than he can wipe
them away. “I’m sorry…(sniffle)…She’s going to
be…(sniffle)…missed…”

I walk to him, placing my hand on his
shoulder. “It’s okay, you grieve and I’ll talk. I just hope my
words can give her the honor she deserves.”

Drescoll nods and walks to the casket, his
back to the crowd and places his hand on the polished wooden
surface. Before turning to the gathered crowd, I see his shoulder
begin to shake with grief. Allie’s dad, also weeping, rises and
joins Drescoll on the other side of the casket.

“Friends, we gather at a very sad time to
give our final respects to one of our beloved. How do I even begin?
How do we say goodbye to someone that we can’t believe is gone? How
do we say farewell to one that was with us heart and soul?

“Allie was with us just a short time but
impacted the lives of everyone she came in contact with. It was
impossible to remain down when she was around. Her ready smile
brightened the day, and she gave us strength when times were hard.
Allie, you were taken from us too early and you will be grievously
missed…”

I have tears in my own eyes by the time I
finish. Seven rifles fire three times, each report sends a note
that Allie is truly gone…that she will be with us no more. After
the final shots echo into the distance, a solitary bugle plays
Taps
, the sound drifting forlornly over bowed heads.
Soldiers rise and come to attention, saluting a fellow companion.
The skies overhead threatening rain reflect the gloom and sadness
we all feel. I can’t hear
Taps
without tears forming, and
this time is no different. The hot tears streaming down my cheek
are a direct contrast to the chill of the dying day.

The services end and everyone silently makes
their way to our sanctuary. I watch them depart, thinking that, in
this new world, it seems that for every gain, there is a
corresponding loss. For Lynn’s return, we lost Allie. We can’t seem
to get a leg up on things. That needs to change soon or we are in
for trouble. If it’s not the night runners, it’s our own kind. As
for the night runners, they seem to be advancing at every turn.
Standing at the podium, with my pant legs whipping in the wind, I
hope that we aren’t in for any further surprises. We can’t afford
it from either a personnel or psychological standpoint.

I join Drescoll and Allie’s dad who maintain
their silent vigil. I think to provide some consolation but I’m not
any good at that. Still, I want to tell that I’m sorry and that I
understand their pain. But what can you really say to anyone that
has lost a loved one? There really isn’t anything that can
alleviate the pain and sorrow.

I’m about to put my hand on Drescoll’s
shoulder and hear him whisper, “Why did you have to leave, Allie?
Why? I don’t want to be here without you…”

I back away. This is a time for him to
grieve. As I turn to leave, I hear him say, “I will really miss
you.” He leans down and kisses the casket.

He turns and we lock eyes. “I’m really
sorry. I know there isn’t anything I can possibly say that will
alleviate the pain and sorrow you’re feeling. I would love to tell
you that time will heal the grief and somehow make it better. The
truth is that time only makes it more bearable but, it does make it
bearable. I’m not going to say that I understand what you are going
through because I’m not you. But, just know that I’m here if you
need…for anything,” I tell him.

Through his tears, he nods and makes his way
toward Cabela’s. Allie’s dad runs his hand lovingly along the
casket and departs as well. Red Team, Lynn, and I are the only ones
left and we ease Allie into her final resting place.

* * * * * *

Drescoll walks across the hard-packed
ground. With his heart filled with the pain of grief, the chill of
the evening is lost on him. He and Allie had only known each other
a short time and were together for an even shorter one. That
doesn’t change how he feels…the depth of his affections. Once they
began talking, it just seemed natural and right for them to be
together. Each time they had a chance to be alone with each other,
life had more meaning and everything seemed so much brighter. He
didn’t want those moments to ever end and, should time decide to
have frozen then, he would consider himself fortunate.

Now, he is walking back to a place that
seems darker. He has never been one for relationships and didn’t
mind being by himself. Now he has never felt so alone. He knows
Jack’s words were meant to help, but his thoughts are running in a
confused jumble. In his heart, there is a small part remaining
where he doesn’t doubt Jack’s sincerity and care for the people.
It’s why he cautioned Jack in the first place not to place himself
in danger all of the time – the group needs him. But, he constantly
placed Allie in danger and this is the result. She took a bullet
meant for him and Drescoll isn’t sure he can ever get over
that.

He now understands Jack’s initial anger
toward him over Nic’s death but, at this moment, he doesn’t know if
he has the strength to forgive. Allie was his everything, his
world, his reason to continue in this miserable hell, and now she’s
gone – the light of his life snuffed out.

Walking back into the building, with the
gray day fading to a darker shade signaling the coming of night, I
notice more than a few women are beginning to show signs of being
pregnant. Times of stress will bring people together. Seeing them,
I’m reminded of the night runner female we encountered earlier in
the day. The fact that she was pregnant brings a fear to the
forefront – the night runners can breed. If the women in our group
are any indication and the night runners are breeding in a similar
manner, with their greater numbers, they will exponentially grow in
relationship to us.

It’s been an emotionally-charged day and
it’s hard to believe, with all that happened, that it’s still the
same day. The day is ending on a sad note and, even though none of
us are wanting to, we still need to meet. There is so much to
discuss, and putting it off isn’t going to help.

Although there is a pall over the group, I
can’t describe how good it is to see Lynn sitting amongst us once
again. She is thinner, and there are definite circles of tiredness
around her eyes, but she retains some energy. It’s likely due to
her relief at being freed from the night runners. I can’t imagine
the ordeal she must have gone through. I haven’t asked her about
her experiences, but I’m sure she’ll share them later. It’s her
story to tell when she feels ready to tell it and not for me to
pull it out of her.

Although everyone gave Lynn warm welcomes on
our return, they mention again how nice it is to have her back.

“It’s been a long day, so let’s keep this
brief,” I say. I detail the events within the hospital and the
capture of the shooter.

“Lynn, I hate to bring up your ordeal, but
do you have any idea why you were singled out and taken?” Frank
asks.

“I haven’t a clue,” she answers.

“You didn’t receive any indication?” he
continues.

“I really don’t know anything. I was kept in
a closed room with night runners for guards, if you can fathom
that, but I couldn’t gather any reason why.”

“I have to say I find it rather
disconcerting that night runners can speak, let alone have the
cognizance to station guards, but what about those last words you
mentioned the female night runner saying?” Bannerman asks,
directing the question at me.

“I wish I knew. This is as baffling to me as
anyone else. The directed attack into our compound only to grab
Lynn and depart doesn’t make any sense. If the night runners
exhibited normal human behaviors, I would say that the female night
runner was psychotic. I would venture that there was some sort of
obsession going on…you know, the crazy, psycho, rabbit in the pot
kind of crazy. It could be that she was psychotic in her previous
life and that stayed with her when she turned. Perhaps the night
runners carry over some degree of whatever mental characteristics
they had and it manifests in odd ways. Either way, I’m not sure
this is an answer we’ll ever know. I’m not even sure there is a
lesson to be learned from it regarding the night runners,” I
reply.

“The scary thing, aside from them being able
plan something like that, is the pregnancy. Are you sure she was
pregnant?” Frank asks.

“As sure as I can be. It could be something
else, and it was a little sporty in there, but she certainly looked
pregnant to me,” I respond.

“She was,” Lynn adds.

“So, we have to believe that the night
runners can breed. That doesn’t bode well. If their rate of
pregnancy is the same as ours, I don’t have to mention what that
means,” Frank states.

“I’m afraid that may be the case. Of course,
with any animal, they’ll only be able to maintain their population
based on their available food source,” I say.

“That may be true, but at what point will
that become a problem for them?” Bannerman asks, rhetorically.

The unstated question left sitting on the
table is whether we’ll be around to find out. We are already vastly
outnumbered, and the night runner population growth will only
increase the threat to our survival. They can afford great losses
and still sustain themselves; whereas we can scarce afford to lose
anyone. If the math from the CDC reports is accurate, there could
be more than thirty thousand night runners in the area compared to
our meager near three hundred. The silence in the group says that
everyone is doing the math and coming up with frightening answers.
The mood drops even lower.

“Okay…well…we’ll just have to keep on with
what we’re doing. We’ve made it this far and we’ll continue to do
so. Where are we with our local projects?” I ask.

“Well, we’re ready to start with the
housing. We’ll gather materials tomorrow and begin construction.
Oh, and one of the people you brought back is a diesel mechanic, so
we may be in luck with our ability to switch over to bio-fuels,”
Bannerman replies.

“Good deal. And speaking of the people we
brought back, one of the groups initiated a day where they had a
BBQ. Although I think we can scarcely afford to take any time off,
we need to implement something like that,” I state.

“I think that’s a good idea. It will give
everyone an opportunity to relax. Honestly, I’m surprised we
haven’t had more meltdowns considering the pace we’ve been
maintaining. I don’t think we can keep up this way and not
suffer…you know, drive us into the ground,” Frank states.

“Can we afford to?” I ask.

“I don’t think we have a choice,” Frank
replies.

“What about the prisoner?” Drescoll asks,
breaking his silence.

“I’m going to go see him after we finish
here. I know I said that we’ll wait for a while, but we need info
soon. He is definitely a pro, and the military vehicles we
encountered earlier today shows that we may be up against something
that we aren’t prepared to handle. We need information…and sooner
rather than later,” I answer.

“Why do you think they attacked?” Robert
asks.

“I have no idea, but that’s something I hope
to remedy soon,” I respond.

“What about Greg?” Lynn asks.

“I don’t know. I don’t like the fact that
he’s out there on his own with only one team, especially
considering what happened today. Look, it’s been a long, emotional
day, so let’s call it a night and meet again tomorrow. Hopefully
we’ll have some answers by then and can plan accordingly.”