John O'Brien - Conspiracy

In addition, the teams broadcast both over the radio and loudspeaker, letting Drescoll know that all is okay. That’s in case he thinks he is in trouble and is staying away. We’ll definitely be having some words if he returns, but the important thing now is to get him back. He’s had more than a few hours head start on us, and the area we have to cover is vast.

At the end of the day, after covering thousands of square miles by air and ground, we are no closer to knowing where Drescoll is than when we started. If we haven’t found him with such an extensive search, we aren’t going to by prolonging it. It’s with heavy hearts that we work our way back to the compound. I cast a thought out, wishing him well and hoping he will return. I will miss him.

The runway is completed at the compound so I land the Spooky there. I plan to take it up just before dark to try and get a better picture of how much the night runners have infiltrated the area north of us. I don’t know what caused them to vanish from there a short while ago, although I have a pretty good idea, but it’s apparent that there is a vacuum that is being filled. If night runners are venturing out of Seattle as Frank suggested, it doesn’t bode very well for us, and we need to get a fix on how many there may be.

Lynn is quiet as we enter Cabela’s and, like the rest of us, subdued.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask as we gather around the table to plan for the night and for the route to take come morning.

“No, not really. I just should have seen it coming. I’ve known him for some time, and I keep thinking there was something I missed. This is so unlike him.”

“Stress can do some fucked up things to the mind. I’m guessing he knew what he was going to do before he talked with you,” I say.

“Probably but… shit. I guess I’ll have to find someone to lead his team. How about Gonzalez?” Lynn asks, turning to look at me.

“She’d make a great team leader, but with the loss to Red Team already, I need her there,” I answer.

“Okay, I’ll find someone else. I think Taylor is ready. I don’t want to think of that now. Let’s get tonight planned.”

Frank joins us to point out where he has placed the cameras and found the greatest increases in the night runner presence. We map out a search pattern and get to the business of planning our flight route to find Leonard, pick up Greg, and conduct our overflight.

With the sun sinking low against the western hills, its glow flashing through a break in the clouds overhead illuminating the underside of the overcast in oranges and reds and silhouetting the mountains, we send a cloud of dust to the rear as we apply full throttles. The Spooky lurches forward as if eager to escape the earth and find the peace of its home in the sky. This has been an emotional week, and it will be nice to lock the wheels up and find the solace of flight.

As we claw our way over the perimeter fence, I think of how I should have thought to bring the aircraft inside the compound earlier. It sure would have made some things easier. It’s funny how we become trapped in the way things are usually done even though we think we have accustomed ourselves to the newness of our environment. I turn the aircraft north as the sun sends a last flare of light through the heavens.

It seems, once again, that the more we do to ensure our survival, the harder it becomes. It’s like we have to fight against our own advances. The farther we get, the more we seem to be attacked from so many angles. I’m ready to be done with this stress shit and get on with our rebuilding. We’ve done well to survive to this point, but at what cost — Nic gone, McCafferty gone, Drescoll apparently giving up and leaving, Allie’s dad taking his life. They won’t be the last unless we can get some respite from the continual attacks.

Robert’s voice on the intercom, readying the aircraft for our mission, breaks into my thoughts and brings my mind to the operation at hand. I reach down to the monitor and set it to the thermal imaging. That will be the best way to find out just how prevalent the night runners are. The plan is to engage if we find numerous night runners, but the primary mission is to get a feel for the numbers in the area. Our first sweep will be to check out the bases themselves.

The last glow vanishes from the western sky. The sun is setting noticeably earlier now, giving us fewer hours in the day to do what we need. The aircraft is quiet and tension builds as each member watches the screens to see what will happen. I, for one, am hoping it stays just the way it is — dark.

I might as well have hoped for all of the night runners to instantly drop dead. The camera zoom is pulled back so we can see a wider area. White blips suddenly appear from multiple locations. The packs are of medium-sized and not the complete white out we experienced when they gathered in the thousands a while back. Still, there are hundreds of them pouring from the buildings below. Lynn and Frank were right, there is no way we would have made it to the aircraft last night.

“Are we recording this?” I ask Robert through the intercom.

“We are,” Robert replies. “Do you want us to engage?”

“No, not right now. We need to make sure we get a good picture of the entire area before taking them out,” I answer.

“Copy that.”

After circling the base, we head over the surrounding areas of Tacoma and are met with the same picture; a few small to medium-sized packs roaming the streets for food. Taking a tour of the rural areas, the night runners are definitely less numerous than in the built up areas. This may be because they want to stick close to their lairs but, as Frank has said many times, they will have no choice except to venture farther afield once the food supply runs out.

Glancing at the monitor, it is apparent that the area has been infiltrated. They are not as numerous as they were around our compound, but they are definitely here in numbers. What I wouldn’t give to find out where that large gathering is in our area, if they are still there. We’ll have to conduct more searches for them when we return. I don’t like not knowing where that large pack is, especially as we were recently attacked by a smaller group.

After a few hours of drilling holes in the sky, we manage to cover the Tacoma area. Looking at the white figures on the monitor, I think of Drescoll being out there somewhere. I hope that wherever he has decided to go, that there aren’t night runners in these numbers near him. Or any for that matter. That would be a horrible way to go.

I bank the aircraft in the night sky, keeping below the overcast, wanting to take a look at the corridor between Seattle and Tacoma before we settle down to the business of delivering steel to flesh and bone.

The farther north we go, the more we encounter packs on the prowl. The number directly corresponds to the level of urban buildup. It seems Frank is right and the night runners are pushing out of the Seattle area. I’m sure, like he said, that the food supply is drying out up there and they are pushing in all directions. The thought arises that if we take out any night runners in an area without depleting their food source, the vacuum created will eventually fill up again until the food is gone. That is provided that there are night runners that can transition to the area. That doesn’t bode well for us as the western corridor, from Olympia to north of Seattle, was heavily populated with only narrow breaks between the developed areas.

There is no way we can take out all of the night runners. We may be able to destroy their food source. That may keep their numbers down; but how do you demolish miles and miles of urban development? The only way to keep night runners out of an area is to develop a scorched earth policy…burn everything to the ground. That’s not as easy as it sounds, but it may be our only recourse. Nature adapts though, and it may be that we drive the night runners to another course which will make them even more dangerous. I shake off this train of thought and decide that I will take it up with Frank and the others at a later point. Right now, there are targets below that are itching to be taken out.