Kyle Pratt - Through Many Fires

“This is as close as I can get you,” the driver said pointing to the building.

As they stepped off the bus Maria gripped Caden’s arm. “That was one wild ride. I feel like I should kneel and kiss the ground.”

Caden heard her, but his gaze was locked on the sea of tents, cars and people that filled what had once been a green, lakeside park.

As the bus pulled away the smell of french-fries was quickly replaced by the smell of human waste. In the distance police sirens wailed. Immediately to their left stood a huge tent with FEMA printed on the side. Before them, almost blocking their way, stood an uncountable number of tents, cars, RVs and campers. Smoke rose from hundreds of campfires. Along the edges of the camp were Humvees and soldiers.

Somehow he had expected conditions to get better as he got closer to home, but things weren’t better. Lifting his gaze to his immediate destination, the capitol, he was filled with both dread and a feeling of destiny. Freedom, law and order were all holding on by a thread. The nation would either regroup, fight back against those that attacked it, or descend into tyranny or worse, chaos.

He turned to the woman by his side. And what about Maria? What about Becky? There too, he was at a crossroads. He needed answers and he knew where to get them. “Come on,” he said pointing to the capitol, “that is where we need to go.”

Maria gazed at the capitol high on the hill. “How do we get up there?”

Military vehicles clogged the road. Caden decided to avoid it. “Follow me,” he said and headed into the camp. He looked toward the capitol every few minutes to keep his bearing as they walked through the maze of tents and vehicles. “This is less organized, dirtier and colder than Fort Rucker.”

Maria nodded and held the baby tight.

Brightly colored tents stood side-by-side along meandering paths of mud. The smell of damp, sweat and waste filled the air. In any wide spot along the way people huddled around a fire. Children clustered under blankets in the doorways of tents. After several minutes, Caden gave up avoiding muddy puddles and trudged right through them. Soon the lower half of his jeans were more brown than blue.

It took longer than thirty minutes to cross what had once been a park. At the far end they came to a ten foot high chain-link fence with rolled barbed wire on top.

Caden followed the fence to the bottom of the walkway. There was no gate.

“They’re shutting these people in,” Maria said with a hint of fear in her voice.

“They were building a fence around the camp at Rucker.”

“There were gates. People moved in and out all the time.”

“Perhaps they will here.”

“This camp is more crowded and these people seem hungrier, more desperate.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to be inside when this fence is done.”

Caden didn’t want to be in the cold, muddy camp either. “Come on.” Following the barrier, they moved back in the direction they had just come. It didn’t take long to find troops erecting a new section of fence. Unsure if anyone would challenge them, Caden moved a few yards beyond the soldiers. They stepped across the invisible line and turned up the roadway. No attempt was made to stop them.

Maria looked back. “Why would they stay inside?”

“For the promise of food and,” he said pointing to the soldiers, “perhaps security, and because they have no other place to go.”

Maria turned and headed up the road toward the capitol.

Caden followed and within minutes they came to a Humvee and several soldiers at a roadblock. A private called out, “The capitol campus is closed. Return to the camp.”

“Wait here,” he said to Maria. Taking one step forward he said to the soldiers, “My name is Caden Westmore. Governor Monroe is expecting me.”

The private stepped forward, locked eyes with Caden and slowly scanned down to his mud encrusted shoes and pants. “You’re kidding, right?”

Caden showed his Homeland Security badge. “Call the duty officer and give him my name.”

The private told him to wait and walked back to the other soldiers. A couple of minutes later the soldier returned along with a staff sergeant. “Normally the Governor’s visitors drive up,” the senior man said.

“It’s been a long trip, staff sergeant. May I…we, go up now?”

“No, not yet.” The man paused and looked hard at Caden.

He met his gaze.

“You been in the service?”

“Army. Seven years.”

He nodded. “What was your rank?”

“I made captain before the last force reduction.”

“Okay.” A slight smile crossed the soldier’s face. “A lot of people have tried to get past us over the last few days. Most are desperate, some are mad or scared, but you’re not any of that—and you got my rank correct. Well sir, why don’t you and your wife…”

“Friend.”

“…come on up here and we’ll get this sorted out.”

It took a while to contact the governor’s staff, but in less than an hour Caden, Maria and Adam were stepping from a jeep at the foot of the capitol.

Maria sighed, “I always seem to be looking up at this building. So many steps”

“Forty-two,” Caden said with a smile. “Washington was the forty-second state in the union.

“I wish it had been the first.”

“Let me take the baby.”

She handed Adam to him. “Thanks.”

As they reached the top of the steps, David Weston came out of the building holding a clipboard full of papers. He greeted them then turned to Caden. He said, “The Governor is in a meeting right now and would like you to join them.” He looked Caden up and down and said, “Maybe after you clean up.”

Caden handed the baby back to Maria and headed for a lavatory while David settled Maria in a nearby guest house.

Caden left his duffle bag just inside the door of the conference chamber. Governor Monroe sat at a long table that dominated the center of the room. Men and women in business attire and military uniforms sat all around it. Many more sat in chairs along the walls. Caden found an empty seat and then turned his attention to an army major briefing the group.

“That is correct the last fully successful attack was against San Diego over a week ago. Since then we have captured the Detroit bombers and were in pursuit of the Seattle bombers when they detonated their bomb. We believe the terrorist network involved in these attacks has been broken. FBI and DHS are pursuing the remaining perpetrators.”

The governor nodded. “Can we get the people back home?”

“Well sir,” a civilian said, “we, FEMA, are using the media to spread the word that it is safe to go home. A significant portion of Seattle and Tacoma residents are now in two main areas. In the north, beyond the restricted zone, there are several camps along the freeway. Going south, the camps again follow the freeway from Olympia toward Portland and also west toward Aberdeen.

“Using food, fuel and security as an inducement we are attempting to move these populations back to the clear areas of Seattle and Tacoma and surrounding communities. For those that can’t go home, we are setting up two large refugee camps, one north of the metro area and the other to the south.”

“There are hundreds of makeshift camps,” another person said. “If you come in from the north you can see one just down the hill from here.”

FEMA guy said, “We are fencing that area so no more people can get in…”

Maria was worried about getting out, but people want to get in!

“…and as fuel becomes available we will relocate them to the southern camp or return them home. However, we are hampered by logistics. Our most critical shortages are in food and fuel, but almost all supplies are at critical levels.”