Story Market Day
- Thread starter ComCamGuy
- Start date
Dosadi
Brown Coat
Gotta get your mind:
Don't mean nothing; its just a thang.
Xin Loi bout that
don mean nuffin a tall.
I have an old boonie hat with a lot of autographs; some by fellows I watched die a bit later on. They all lived in the moment.
What ya do after (if) ya rotate home? Wish I knew. Mostly I just don't think about it when I can, and have a couple friends with been there; done that ; have the tee shirt experience to spend those mornings after a bad night, and near 30 years later there are still bad nights, but less than there used to be.
Still don't appreciate fire crackers outside my window when I"m sleeping. Had to speak to the neighbor lady about that. Told her it wasn't that I minded, but she might mind if I shot her babies when they got up to stuff and pushed my buttons. And I like those young boys, but they gotta a lot of energy and get up to stuff thinking it's funny when I jump for a safe spot or something.
Lady is ex mil, she had them cutting switches. Almost made me wish I'd kept my mouth shut. She has her demons too. Hubby was a Marine, but he never deployed anywhere and thinks he's super warrior. I just Shack my Head. Lady road hummers on a 50 cal M2 and met him when her supply convoy yanked his field boys outta the field and went back to his pogue ass. Sorry shouldn't slight him, but I call it like it is to my eyes.
Thank for MOAR
Dosadi
Don't mean nothing; its just a thang.
Xin Loi bout that
don mean nuffin a tall.
I have an old boonie hat with a lot of autographs; some by fellows I watched die a bit later on. They all lived in the moment.
What ya do after (if) ya rotate home? Wish I knew. Mostly I just don't think about it when I can, and have a couple friends with been there; done that ; have the tee shirt experience to spend those mornings after a bad night, and near 30 years later there are still bad nights, but less than there used to be.
Still don't appreciate fire crackers outside my window when I"m sleeping. Had to speak to the neighbor lady about that. Told her it wasn't that I minded, but she might mind if I shot her babies when they got up to stuff and pushed my buttons. And I like those young boys, but they gotta a lot of energy and get up to stuff thinking it's funny when I jump for a safe spot or something.
Lady is ex mil, she had them cutting switches. Almost made me wish I'd kept my mouth shut. She has her demons too. Hubby was a Marine, but he never deployed anywhere and thinks he's super warrior. I just Shack my Head. Lady road hummers on a 50 cal M2 and met him when her supply convoy yanked his field boys outta the field and went back to his pogue ass. Sorry shouldn't slight him, but I call it like it is to my eyes.
Thank for MOAR
Dosadi
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
When I buckled my warbelt back on that morning, I resolved to stop deluding myself. A couple of years after Katrina, there were still shattered and uninhabitable areas of the Gulf Coast. After Harvey, some areas didn’t recover. Some areas hit by Sandy didn’t recover. That was with an entire functioning economy and the focus of a nation. The West coast is forever changed. The infrastructure, already crumbling and on the verge of failure, is gone. 50 million people in the directly impacted area. The hunt for survivors is sporadic at best. Who is left to look for them? It’s not like a hurricane, where you have hours or days or weeks. There were scant minutes for those aware to do anything.
The port facilities were destroyed. The industries were devastated. The houses wiped out. The closest solid staging areas were thousands of miles from ports. The rail infrastructure is too degraded to sustain that level of relief effort. The days of flying in enough to sustain a city ala Berlin Airlift are long over. We probably couldn’t do the berlin airlift again if we tried, and Berlin was a hundred times smaller than any of the major cities we just lost.
So, the government won’t be able to help anytime soon. That means everyone will be on their own. The death toll will be catastrophic. When the government can’t help, then it becomes irrelevant. All those that depend on it will revolt, since that seems to be the way now. That won’t fill their bellies, it won’t feed their kids, it won’t make their cell phones work, and so on and so forth. Most don’t have 3 days’ worth of food, much less the six months or years it will take to get the local grocery stores back up and running, not that the buildings will even be there or inhabitable anyway. Food Stamps, WIC, Credit Cards, all of these will be useless. Even if there were staples to airlift in, most modern people wouldn’t know what to do with unprocessed food like beans or flour. Anymore, if it can’t be nuked, or bought at a fast food joint, Americans don’t know what to do with it. And they won’t be able to Google how, either.
It’s going to get violent. It’s going to come apart. I came home to retire from war. Once the masses that survive realize that there is no one to enforce the rules, war will happen. Not in a big us vs them way. No. It’s going to be Bosnia writ large. An area 17 times the size of Bosnia with no real way to fix it. Fractured on all kinds of fronts; sex, religion, political affiliation, immigration and a host of other things. Throw in hunger, helplessness, and chaos, well you can see why I was crying and swearing when I went to the basement and changed out my little booboo kit level E&E kit for a full-fledged wartime E&E bag to go with the carbine I pulled from the safe.
I have walked the empty villages of Bosnia and seen the mass graves of neighborhood genocide. I will not start anything, but I will not go quietly if it comes.
Warbelt, E&E bag, carbine. It’s going to be a long day ahead.
The port facilities were destroyed. The industries were devastated. The houses wiped out. The closest solid staging areas were thousands of miles from ports. The rail infrastructure is too degraded to sustain that level of relief effort. The days of flying in enough to sustain a city ala Berlin Airlift are long over. We probably couldn’t do the berlin airlift again if we tried, and Berlin was a hundred times smaller than any of the major cities we just lost.
So, the government won’t be able to help anytime soon. That means everyone will be on their own. The death toll will be catastrophic. When the government can’t help, then it becomes irrelevant. All those that depend on it will revolt, since that seems to be the way now. That won’t fill their bellies, it won’t feed their kids, it won’t make their cell phones work, and so on and so forth. Most don’t have 3 days’ worth of food, much less the six months or years it will take to get the local grocery stores back up and running, not that the buildings will even be there or inhabitable anyway. Food Stamps, WIC, Credit Cards, all of these will be useless. Even if there were staples to airlift in, most modern people wouldn’t know what to do with unprocessed food like beans or flour. Anymore, if it can’t be nuked, or bought at a fast food joint, Americans don’t know what to do with it. And they won’t be able to Google how, either.
It’s going to get violent. It’s going to come apart. I came home to retire from war. Once the masses that survive realize that there is no one to enforce the rules, war will happen. Not in a big us vs them way. No. It’s going to be Bosnia writ large. An area 17 times the size of Bosnia with no real way to fix it. Fractured on all kinds of fronts; sex, religion, political affiliation, immigration and a host of other things. Throw in hunger, helplessness, and chaos, well you can see why I was crying and swearing when I went to the basement and changed out my little booboo kit level E&E kit for a full-fledged wartime E&E bag to go with the carbine I pulled from the safe.
I have walked the empty villages of Bosnia and seen the mass graves of neighborhood genocide. I will not start anything, but I will not go quietly if it comes.
Warbelt, E&E bag, carbine. It’s going to be a long day ahead.
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
So, the government won’t be able to help anytime soon. That means everyone will be on their own. The death toll will be catastrophic. When the government can’t help, then it becomes irrelevant. All those that depend on it will revolt, since that seems to be the way now. That won’t fill their bellies, it won’t feed their kids, it won’t make their cell phones work, and so on and so forth. Most don’t have 3 days’ worth of food, much less the six months or years it will take to get the local grocery stores back up and running, not that the buildings will even be there or inhabitable anyway. Food Stamps, WIC, Credit Cards, all of these will be useless. Even if there were staples to airlift in, most modern people wouldn’t know what to do with unprocessed food like beans or flour. Anymore, if it can’t be nuked, or bought at a fast food joint, Americans don’t know what to do with it. And they won’t be able to Google how, either.
CCG,
Most of the sheep either can not comprehend such or refuse to think about such....
It will evolve down to the lowest denominator....Violence and who has the most fighters weapons and ammo....
Sad, but very likely to happen....
Texican....
CCG,
Most of the sheep either can not comprehend such or refuse to think about such....
It will evolve down to the lowest denominator....Violence and who has the most fighters weapons and ammo....
Sad, but very likely to happen....
Texican....
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sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you.
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Allyson was torn between panic and disbelief. She grabbed the packs and threw them into the back of her SUV. She had an ancient first generation Explorer Sport. It had four wheel drive and was still nimble and strong. Her biggest worry was a heartfelt “where the hell am I going?” She barely knew the city, and relied on the GPS to get point a to b. She kept telling herself to not panic. The GPS would at least give her a moving map. She pointed east and hammered the gas.
Every intersection had trashed lights and crashed cars. The rubble from the older buildings wasn’t too bad, her little Explorer could get her through. She debated turning the flashing lights in the grill on, then decided that if people thought she was a cop, they would try and stop her to get help. Not good. Was she really running away from helping people? Was that her? She kept having a tug of war in her mind. Coward! You have to survive to be able to help people. You’re running away! It isn’t brave to be drowned by a 200 ft. wall of water. The war raged on. All the while she drove up and up. At one point she realized that she had to keep going south to go inland. Her greatest fear was traffic stopping her progress too soon and trapping her too low to escape the wall of water.
A whole other track in her mind started working. It told her to plan what bags/packs she could grab out of the truck if she was completely log jammed. It walked her through the thought process of water, food, shelter, navigation, defense, setting the priorities of each. She found this calmed her down and gave her a focus. The manic part of her mind began to subside. She started to drive more deliberate. She eyeballed the buildings around her. She was constantly figuring “Ok, if the water gets to me here, I’ll try for that building, or this building. She remembered the search and rescue guys showing films of people on top of their cars being swept downstream. A sucky plan if it came to it, but she decided if the water overtook her and swept the car inland, she would try to get on top with the bare minimum and try to get to the nearest building the truck floated to. She began to pray for the first time in a long time. It felt kinda selfish but it wasn’t for her own survival parse. It was for a clear mind to face what was ahead, and her willingness to surrender to Gods will. This didn’t mean she wouldn’t try her hardest to survive, but she felt a peace come over her as she accepted that she might not. She realized the voice of the other channel in her brain that was walking her though the thought processes was her Dads. She was determined to not fail him. She might die, but she would never quit.
Every intersection had trashed lights and crashed cars. The rubble from the older buildings wasn’t too bad, her little Explorer could get her through. She debated turning the flashing lights in the grill on, then decided that if people thought she was a cop, they would try and stop her to get help. Not good. Was she really running away from helping people? Was that her? She kept having a tug of war in her mind. Coward! You have to survive to be able to help people. You’re running away! It isn’t brave to be drowned by a 200 ft. wall of water. The war raged on. All the while she drove up and up. At one point she realized that she had to keep going south to go inland. Her greatest fear was traffic stopping her progress too soon and trapping her too low to escape the wall of water.
A whole other track in her mind started working. It told her to plan what bags/packs she could grab out of the truck if she was completely log jammed. It walked her through the thought process of water, food, shelter, navigation, defense, setting the priorities of each. She found this calmed her down and gave her a focus. The manic part of her mind began to subside. She started to drive more deliberate. She eyeballed the buildings around her. She was constantly figuring “Ok, if the water gets to me here, I’ll try for that building, or this building. She remembered the search and rescue guys showing films of people on top of their cars being swept downstream. A sucky plan if it came to it, but she decided if the water overtook her and swept the car inland, she would try to get on top with the bare minimum and try to get to the nearest building the truck floated to. She began to pray for the first time in a long time. It felt kinda selfish but it wasn’t for her own survival parse. It was for a clear mind to face what was ahead, and her willingness to surrender to Gods will. This didn’t mean she wouldn’t try her hardest to survive, but she felt a peace come over her as she accepted that she might not. She realized the voice of the other channel in her brain that was walking her though the thought processes was her Dads. She was determined to not fail him. She might die, but she would never quit.
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Old Gray Mare
TB Fanatic
A lot of people could survive on less food than they're used to. IMHO the more immediate problem may be potable water. How many have even a brick of water put by? How many have the knowledge, ability, skill and tools needed to purify non-potable water?
Thank you for the story. Hopefully it may open eyes to some of what our military and veterans have and are suffering.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you, yes one needs to calm down and think, and listen to the small voice.
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
^^^^THIS^^^^
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
“Garen, you better move that fat assed German machine. I hear a freight train and that means water!”
The voice crackled through the headset as he was picking his way through the rubble and the cars that were stopped in the way. He knew he couldn’t get a perfect path and the bike was fighting him as they went. His bike was overloaded and a bit too top heavy. They hadn’t taken much time to distribute the loads very well in their haste to make ground. Part of his mind was screaming to punch it and steer as he had to, where the other half that tries to control situations kept reminding him that deliberate and upright was a lot faster than falling over because you are in too much of a hurry. They were trapped in a warren of side streets, old housing, and subdivisions with blocked cross streets. This was interspersed with elevated roadways, some of which were no longer elevated.
Garen was very frustrated and truth be told more than a little scared. It seemed that they were getting no farther east than where they started from. Every time he thought he had it sorted and a route to higher ground or at least further east to buy time, the road was jammed, or the way was blocked or some other problem showed up. He was starting to get a bit desperate. It would be bad enough to get himself killed, but Kara was following him, so he would have to own both deaths.
Kara had known from the moment Garen had screamed invectives about a Tsunami that she had lost everything she had owned at her trailer. All she had was now either with her or in her connex at Garen and Bekka’s. It didn’t hurt as much as many would think. She had lost everything so many times that it was no longer a shock.
What she did care about was motivating Garen out of his mental grid lock. Something done right now was better than the perfect solution a week from now. She had to get him going. She had to get him home to Bekka. She could tell he was thinking more than riding. He was also struggling with the bike more than usual. She started to worry his bike had issues and began planning what to jettison to get him on hers if it came to that.
“Spike! Gotta go NOW! I got water 70 meters to my right and coming fast.” A hint of panic and frustration creeping in.
Garen gunned the bike some at Kara’s call. He had no choices now. He was still trying to pick a line to get somewhere and all he could see was the rubble and obstacles in front of his wheels.
“Damnit Spike! I’m coming up on your left! Stop staring at your front wheel! We got to go! I have the lead. You have the perfect excuse now. Lock your eyes on my ass and nothing else and follow me!”
She gunned her bike as she went by him. As soon as she was sure he was locked on to her, she made a hard left. She climbed up the side of an embankment for one of the elevated freeways at an angle.
Garen was frustrated, mainly with himself. It was like being the lead climber in a group; you get so fixated on the holds right in front of you that you lose track of the line and direction of travel so you end up in a dead end route. Kara, sitting behind him was looking not at 20 meters ahead, but instead at 100 meters and beyond. Garen was also still fixated on roads and not paths. He couldn’t break himself out of the logic loop. With the higher elevation and the slowing effect of the berm of the elevated freeway, they would gain more time to find a route. They could go down between cars and such. The main worry would be collapsed sections but hopefully there would be another section of bank to scramble down, this time on the landward side.
Another part of Garen, now that he could breath, chuckled to himself that although it was wrong to stare at her ass this much, she did tell him to and it WAS cute.
“Faith, keep an eye out on car doors and flailing people. Reginald Denny, no stopping.”
The section of road curved inland a bit as they went. From their vantage they could see the first wave hit most of the city. The devastation was horrendous, and this was only the start. Most people don’t realize that the ways Tsunamis work, there are a series of waves, and the first isn’t always the biggest.
They had to find high ground but they were still mobile. This was 10 minutes after the water hit and it was going to be a long day.
The voice crackled through the headset as he was picking his way through the rubble and the cars that were stopped in the way. He knew he couldn’t get a perfect path and the bike was fighting him as they went. His bike was overloaded and a bit too top heavy. They hadn’t taken much time to distribute the loads very well in their haste to make ground. Part of his mind was screaming to punch it and steer as he had to, where the other half that tries to control situations kept reminding him that deliberate and upright was a lot faster than falling over because you are in too much of a hurry. They were trapped in a warren of side streets, old housing, and subdivisions with blocked cross streets. This was interspersed with elevated roadways, some of which were no longer elevated.
Garen was very frustrated and truth be told more than a little scared. It seemed that they were getting no farther east than where they started from. Every time he thought he had it sorted and a route to higher ground or at least further east to buy time, the road was jammed, or the way was blocked or some other problem showed up. He was starting to get a bit desperate. It would be bad enough to get himself killed, but Kara was following him, so he would have to own both deaths.
Kara had known from the moment Garen had screamed invectives about a Tsunami that she had lost everything she had owned at her trailer. All she had was now either with her or in her connex at Garen and Bekka’s. It didn’t hurt as much as many would think. She had lost everything so many times that it was no longer a shock.
What she did care about was motivating Garen out of his mental grid lock. Something done right now was better than the perfect solution a week from now. She had to get him going. She had to get him home to Bekka. She could tell he was thinking more than riding. He was also struggling with the bike more than usual. She started to worry his bike had issues and began planning what to jettison to get him on hers if it came to that.
“Spike! Gotta go NOW! I got water 70 meters to my right and coming fast.” A hint of panic and frustration creeping in.
Garen gunned the bike some at Kara’s call. He had no choices now. He was still trying to pick a line to get somewhere and all he could see was the rubble and obstacles in front of his wheels.
“Damnit Spike! I’m coming up on your left! Stop staring at your front wheel! We got to go! I have the lead. You have the perfect excuse now. Lock your eyes on my ass and nothing else and follow me!”
She gunned her bike as she went by him. As soon as she was sure he was locked on to her, she made a hard left. She climbed up the side of an embankment for one of the elevated freeways at an angle.
Garen was frustrated, mainly with himself. It was like being the lead climber in a group; you get so fixated on the holds right in front of you that you lose track of the line and direction of travel so you end up in a dead end route. Kara, sitting behind him was looking not at 20 meters ahead, but instead at 100 meters and beyond. Garen was also still fixated on roads and not paths. He couldn’t break himself out of the logic loop. With the higher elevation and the slowing effect of the berm of the elevated freeway, they would gain more time to find a route. They could go down between cars and such. The main worry would be collapsed sections but hopefully there would be another section of bank to scramble down, this time on the landward side.
Another part of Garen, now that he could breath, chuckled to himself that although it was wrong to stare at her ass this much, she did tell him to and it WAS cute.
“Faith, keep an eye out on car doors and flailing people. Reginald Denny, no stopping.”
The section of road curved inland a bit as they went. From their vantage they could see the first wave hit most of the city. The devastation was horrendous, and this was only the start. Most people don’t realize that the ways Tsunamis work, there are a series of waves, and the first isn’t always the biggest.
They had to find high ground but they were still mobile. This was 10 minutes after the water hit and it was going to be a long day.
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
“Damnit Spike! I’m coming up on your left! Stop staring at your front wheel! We got to go! I have the lead. You have the perfect excuse now. Lock your eyes on my ass and nothing else and follow me!”
Another part of Garen, now that he could breath, chuckled to himself that although it was wrong to stare at her ass this much, she did tell him to and it WAS cute.
Usen men can't stop thinking about women even when in severe danger....
Been ingrained in our DNA....
Thanks CCG for the chapter....
Will they escape, probably so if CCG doesn't want stoned or is worded....
Texican....
Another part of Garen, now that he could breath, chuckled to himself that although it was wrong to stare at her ass this much, she did tell him to and it WAS cute.
Usen men can't stop thinking about women even when in severe danger....
Been ingrained in our DNA....
Thanks CCG for the chapter....
Will they escape, probably so if CCG doesn't want stoned or is worded....
Texican....
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
She wasn’t sure how she did it, but she made it far enough up one of ridgelines lined with homes to escape the first wave of water temporarily. It gave her a moment to breathe and look for the next route. She could see where the road she was on perched on the side of the ridge descended again inland, and the water swallowing up the road in that direction. She kept looking for a way to get off this rapidly developing temporary island. This spot is going to be swamped with survivors and refugees, neither of which she wanted to be a part of. She thought she might see a route through some yards and such to a trail linking one road to another that might get her to the landward side of the water. Her SUV may fit and could be nimble enough to do it if she was careful.
It took a while, with quite a bit of white knuckle driving and nonstop praise for her trusty vehicle, but she made it to the crest road of the ridge. She followed it, not sure where she was going but knew she needed more distance to achieve real safety. It would be days at least for the water to recede and people to be let back into the flood area. She could see the roof of her apartment building sticking up from a literal sea of water. With some quick calculations, she realized that her apartment was underwater.
“Well Allyson, what are you going to do now?” This question kept ringing in her head as she rolled east, moving higher in elevation and farther away from the sea.
It took a while, with quite a bit of white knuckle driving and nonstop praise for her trusty vehicle, but she made it to the crest road of the ridge. She followed it, not sure where she was going but knew she needed more distance to achieve real safety. It would be days at least for the water to recede and people to be let back into the flood area. She could see the roof of her apartment building sticking up from a literal sea of water. With some quick calculations, she realized that her apartment was underwater.
“Well Allyson, what are you going to do now?” This question kept ringing in her head as she rolled east, moving higher in elevation and farther away from the sea.
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
CCG,
“Well Allyson, what are you going to do now?” This question kept ringing in her head as she rolled east, moving higher in elevation and farther away from the sea.
Keep going and going up would be advisable....
Thanks for the chapter....
Texican....
“Well Allyson, what are you going to do now?” This question kept ringing in her head as she rolled east, moving higher in elevation and farther away from the sea.
Keep going and going up would be advisable....
Thanks for the chapter....
Texican....
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
“****! Taking fire from the left! Go Go Go!” Garen screamed over the radio at the same time he saw Kara jerk sideways on the bike.
They were traveling down one of the elevated roadways, trying to put more distance between them and the water before they exited. Their bikes could only go through water so deep before they would be stalled and swept away. The roads were fairly packed with cars and angry and stunned people. Garen and Kara were traveling slowly but steadily up one of the shoulders, keeping the revs low, trying to be inconspicuous and not attract too much attention. Both bikes had overbuilt mufflers, originally to avoid spooking wildlife. Some of the people they saw tried to flag them down. Some shouted questions. Some asked for help. Some wanted a ride to somewhere. All were somewhere between shock, anger, and disbelief.
Garen was hypersensitive to the danger. He had been in the LA area during the whole Rodney King/Reginald Denny Riots. Some poor truck driver, just out trying to make a living was stopped by the crowds because he accidentally drove down one of the streets with the riot. He was drug out of his truck and beaten nearly to death, sustaining massive head trauma. All because he was there.
“Kara, Talk to me. Kara!” The space was too narrow for him to pull up beside her and she was slumped in the saddle some, but at least she was still riding.
“Faith!! Next embankment, Break Right! Now! Now! Now!” Garen Bellowed over the radio, hoping to snap her out of shock.
He was relieved when she started angling to the side and working down the embankment. She was traveling slowly but still in control. They hit level ground and started looking around. Garen pulled up next to her and could get his first look at the damage. She had blood on her left upper arm and had her teeth gritted with every bump.
“How bad is it?”
“Took at least one round, left upper arm, don’t know anywhere else.” Her gasping voice replied.
“We got to get some cover so I can look at that. We can also rebalance the bikes and get a better plan. We should be above the highwater mark now.”
Garen was looking all around, trying to remember what was in this area of the city. They were on the outskirts, in some older industrial parks that had been overtaken by the sprawl. Mixed in were some older subdivisions. He wanted nothing to do with people. He was looking for a multilayer deep industrial park, with alleys to back buildings. That would get them off the street and away from casual observation.
Another part of Garen’s mind was trying to catch up to the facts. It was less than 2 hours after the quake and people were shooting at one another. What will it be like in two days? Two weeks? Shit! This was coming apart fast!
They found an older one that was more of a network of small buildings rather than one big building subdivided into multiple units. Most looked like locations that were only in use at infrequent intervals and it was the end of the day so anyone not burning the midnight oil should have left already.
Pulling down through the alleyways, Garen found a likely candidate. He wanted one that was for lease or sale, somewhere behind the first row so not visible from the street. That would make it less likely to be occupied or checked on. The one he settled on was a medium sized building, a couple of roll up doors and a walk in door, toward the back. The “for lease” sign was aged and weathered, so it had been empty for a while. Behind it was a vacant field that once had been part of a larger factory complex, evidenced by the scattering of random roadways, concrete pads, and sections of tiled concrete and loading dock ramps. That would provide an avenue of escape if something happened.
Garen pulled up to the concrete pad in front of the roll up doors. After a quick look around, he dismounted. He pulled a small leather pouch from his tank bag and moved toward the glass doors.
“Kara, Keep a lookout”
Garen walked to the glass doors, noting the dust and grime on the glass and the handle. Seeing no signs of life, he opened his master key pouch-a highly capable lock pick set. After about a minute or two fumbling around, Kara’s voice chimed in
“Bekka would have had it open by now.”
“It’s been a while since I have done this” he quipped back.
“You should practice more”
“Awfully mouthy for taking a round”
The glass door swung open. Garen Moved forward with a flashlight in one hand, his other on the pistol on his belt. A small office with a couple of glass cubicles like those in a car showroom were just inside the building. There was no furniture to be seen. He pressed forward to the back of the room where he spied a doorway. Passing through into the yawning blackness beyond, Garen swept his flashlight to the left, looking for and finding the roll up door that was next to the glass door. Garen was able to unclip the chain hoist to raise the roll up door nearest the glass doors. As the door rattled and clattered with his efforts, more light flooded into the bay.
Kara could see into the building through the roll up door. Most of the building was empty. Scattered near the walls were a couple of workbenches. She gunned her bike into the bay, taxiing down near one of the benches. She positioned the bike around so it was pointing at the other roll up door at the back of the building. Dropping the side stand, she unassed the bike and leaned on the workbench next to her.
Garen walked his bike in the open door. Once inside, he brought the door back down, sealing them in from prying eyes. He then went through to the office and locked the glass doors again, followed by the door out of the office into the bay. Garen brought his bike up next to Kara’s. He put it on the center stand. He then grabbed the med kit from the back of the bike and moved to Kara.
“Alright, Kara, how are you doing, “a note of concern in his voice as he set his med pack on the bench next to her.
“Hurts like hell, but nothing new. I think it was just the shock and the pain out of nowhere” she sighed then blurted out “DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! Why did I have to catch another one?”
“Calm down. Any other locations?”
“No, just the arm.”
“Alright, give me a moment to get stuff out.”
Garen started spreading stuff out. He popped out one of the cheesy little space blankets and spread it out on the workbench. He then opened the main part of the med bag and pulled out various wound treatment stuff.
“Ok, Kara. Saint-Tropez time” he said, motioning with his hands for her to take her top off.
Kara popped the quick release for her plate carrier and slid it off. This was hung on the handlebars of her bike. She then unbuttoned the shirt and slid it down and off. This then went on her bike as well. She then started the hardest part, her compression T-shirt. She pulled, and tugged and fought with it for a few moments until she heard Garen speaking under his breath. She looked up at him where he was just staring at her with his hands on his hips.
“What, Smartass?”
“I said, you’re like a three year old trying to take off a turtleneck sweater. Do you want some help? I can help you take it off, or I can cut it off, or I can stand here and wait for you to finish.”
An exasperated sigh, “I’ll take the help. I can’t afford for you to cut it. It’s my only t-shirt now. The rest of my clothes were in the trailer.”
Garen’s eyes bored into hers as he slowly and deliberately told her “Kara, don’t worry about that right now. I still have a ton of stuff at the house for you to use and sort through. As long as Bekka or I have even a tarp for a shelter, you have a home with us.”
Garen inspected the wound on her arm. The bullet had creased the muscle. It was a shallow trench in the tricep. It would hurt when she used it but wouldn’t bleed too bad.
“Ok, decision time. I can fix this a bunch of ways. I can wrap a bandage around it and call it good, but when you tried to use the muscle you might tear it worse. I can use the butterfly dressings and it might hold. I can use the trauma stapler, or I can stitch it. Those are your choices.”
“Shit. What’s the most durable? You can’t afford me to screw up my arm trying to ride.”
“I can stitch it, then dermabond and a dressing over it. That will hold it together the best and keep you mobile. It won’t be quick to do but will serve best in the long run.”
“It’s almost nightfall anyway Garen. I don’t think a night ride would be good tonight. Do you agree?”
Garen looked at the wound, calculating the work necessary to do it right, then his watch.
“Let’s call it a night here. I can do my Betsey Ross imitation, we can get some food in us, reload the bikes better and catch some zzzs. Then an early start in the morning to slip past some of this area before the zombie horde wakes up and hears us coming. What do you think?”
Kara nodded and unzipped her sports bra so she wouldn’t get any more blood, or worse, betadine, on it and lay down on the table.
Garen tucked the airway roll form his pack under her head as a pillow. He then handed her a couple of tablets to swallow, one a pain drug, the other an antibiotic. He then assembled his tools to stitch up the wound. As he is working on her in the light of his headlamp, the pain meds take effect and Kara gets light headed and emotional. Garen has seen this in many patients. The effect is similar to being drunk; a loss of inhibitions, talkative and all kinds of other effects can happen.
“Garen, why me? What karmic debt am I still paying off? Why does everyone and everything I touch go to shit? Tell me Garen, Tell me.”
Garen looks up from where he was sewing. “Kara, you are one of the strongest, most resilient people I have ever known. You have survived things that would have killed or crushed most people. You have saved people, you have helped people, all without regard for yourself. Just as you must heat iron to make steel, I believe one must be forged in the fires of adversity to become stronger and more able to prevail the trials and tribulations life will throw at us.”
“Who did I save? I just keep blundering into situations and somehow fighting my way out of them”
“Kara, I saw the after-action report. I talked to Bekka. The last trip out of England, when she got knocked down and took the shrapnel, you stood over her exchanging fire with the bad guys. You took two to the chest in your trauma plate. When others were shitting themselves and looking for something to hide behind, you stood up and fought. Now. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. This is just a scratch and will be no more than a scar the size of a sharpie line in a couple of weeks. Do something else. I know, sing me the Barbie Girl song and let me get back to work.”
She laughed and sang the Barbie Girl song, then Henry the Eight and a few more silly ones until she dropped off to sleep while he worked. Once he was done, he covered her up. He then repacked his med ruck and stowed it on the bike. He then put hers on the center stand so they could inventory and rebalance gear in the morning.
He searched around inside until he found a roof access ladder. He was able to get the hatch open and climb out onto the roof. Looking around, he saw some areas in the distance lit up, but most areas to the west were pitch black. The night air was quiet in the darkness. He sat down on the roof for a few minutes staring at his hands and the blood on them, thinking. After a few minutes, he realized he was praying to god for guidance and clarity in his decisions ahead. He was also praying for the answer to how to help his friend. She was still hurting inside and he didn’t know what else to do to help.
Fatigue came over him and he remembered the real reason he climbed to the roof. He pulled out his radio.
“ATC, this is Briar Flight, Blade 53 and Faith 27. RON Rabbit, push arrival +24, Acknowledge?”
No answer.
He extended his antenna.
“ATC, this is Briar Flight, Blade 53 and Faith 27. RON Rabbit, push arrival +24, Acknowledge?”
A female voice brought his spirits up and thrilled his heart anew.
“Briar Flight, acknowledge two ship Spike 53 and Faith 27, RON Rabbit, arrival push +24. Advise and update for changes”
A big smile on his face and tears in his eyes, he replied.
“Copy, Briar Flight, Out”
They were traveling down one of the elevated roadways, trying to put more distance between them and the water before they exited. Their bikes could only go through water so deep before they would be stalled and swept away. The roads were fairly packed with cars and angry and stunned people. Garen and Kara were traveling slowly but steadily up one of the shoulders, keeping the revs low, trying to be inconspicuous and not attract too much attention. Both bikes had overbuilt mufflers, originally to avoid spooking wildlife. Some of the people they saw tried to flag them down. Some shouted questions. Some asked for help. Some wanted a ride to somewhere. All were somewhere between shock, anger, and disbelief.
Garen was hypersensitive to the danger. He had been in the LA area during the whole Rodney King/Reginald Denny Riots. Some poor truck driver, just out trying to make a living was stopped by the crowds because he accidentally drove down one of the streets with the riot. He was drug out of his truck and beaten nearly to death, sustaining massive head trauma. All because he was there.
“Kara, Talk to me. Kara!” The space was too narrow for him to pull up beside her and she was slumped in the saddle some, but at least she was still riding.
“Faith!! Next embankment, Break Right! Now! Now! Now!” Garen Bellowed over the radio, hoping to snap her out of shock.
He was relieved when she started angling to the side and working down the embankment. She was traveling slowly but still in control. They hit level ground and started looking around. Garen pulled up next to her and could get his first look at the damage. She had blood on her left upper arm and had her teeth gritted with every bump.
“How bad is it?”
“Took at least one round, left upper arm, don’t know anywhere else.” Her gasping voice replied.
“We got to get some cover so I can look at that. We can also rebalance the bikes and get a better plan. We should be above the highwater mark now.”
Garen was looking all around, trying to remember what was in this area of the city. They were on the outskirts, in some older industrial parks that had been overtaken by the sprawl. Mixed in were some older subdivisions. He wanted nothing to do with people. He was looking for a multilayer deep industrial park, with alleys to back buildings. That would get them off the street and away from casual observation.
Another part of Garen’s mind was trying to catch up to the facts. It was less than 2 hours after the quake and people were shooting at one another. What will it be like in two days? Two weeks? Shit! This was coming apart fast!
They found an older one that was more of a network of small buildings rather than one big building subdivided into multiple units. Most looked like locations that were only in use at infrequent intervals and it was the end of the day so anyone not burning the midnight oil should have left already.
Pulling down through the alleyways, Garen found a likely candidate. He wanted one that was for lease or sale, somewhere behind the first row so not visible from the street. That would make it less likely to be occupied or checked on. The one he settled on was a medium sized building, a couple of roll up doors and a walk in door, toward the back. The “for lease” sign was aged and weathered, so it had been empty for a while. Behind it was a vacant field that once had been part of a larger factory complex, evidenced by the scattering of random roadways, concrete pads, and sections of tiled concrete and loading dock ramps. That would provide an avenue of escape if something happened.
Garen pulled up to the concrete pad in front of the roll up doors. After a quick look around, he dismounted. He pulled a small leather pouch from his tank bag and moved toward the glass doors.
“Kara, Keep a lookout”
Garen walked to the glass doors, noting the dust and grime on the glass and the handle. Seeing no signs of life, he opened his master key pouch-a highly capable lock pick set. After about a minute or two fumbling around, Kara’s voice chimed in
“Bekka would have had it open by now.”
“It’s been a while since I have done this” he quipped back.
“You should practice more”
“Awfully mouthy for taking a round”
The glass door swung open. Garen Moved forward with a flashlight in one hand, his other on the pistol on his belt. A small office with a couple of glass cubicles like those in a car showroom were just inside the building. There was no furniture to be seen. He pressed forward to the back of the room where he spied a doorway. Passing through into the yawning blackness beyond, Garen swept his flashlight to the left, looking for and finding the roll up door that was next to the glass door. Garen was able to unclip the chain hoist to raise the roll up door nearest the glass doors. As the door rattled and clattered with his efforts, more light flooded into the bay.
Kara could see into the building through the roll up door. Most of the building was empty. Scattered near the walls were a couple of workbenches. She gunned her bike into the bay, taxiing down near one of the benches. She positioned the bike around so it was pointing at the other roll up door at the back of the building. Dropping the side stand, she unassed the bike and leaned on the workbench next to her.
Garen walked his bike in the open door. Once inside, he brought the door back down, sealing them in from prying eyes. He then went through to the office and locked the glass doors again, followed by the door out of the office into the bay. Garen brought his bike up next to Kara’s. He put it on the center stand. He then grabbed the med kit from the back of the bike and moved to Kara.
“Alright, Kara, how are you doing, “a note of concern in his voice as he set his med pack on the bench next to her.
“Hurts like hell, but nothing new. I think it was just the shock and the pain out of nowhere” she sighed then blurted out “DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! Why did I have to catch another one?”
“Calm down. Any other locations?”
“No, just the arm.”
“Alright, give me a moment to get stuff out.”
Garen started spreading stuff out. He popped out one of the cheesy little space blankets and spread it out on the workbench. He then opened the main part of the med bag and pulled out various wound treatment stuff.
“Ok, Kara. Saint-Tropez time” he said, motioning with his hands for her to take her top off.
Kara popped the quick release for her plate carrier and slid it off. This was hung on the handlebars of her bike. She then unbuttoned the shirt and slid it down and off. This then went on her bike as well. She then started the hardest part, her compression T-shirt. She pulled, and tugged and fought with it for a few moments until she heard Garen speaking under his breath. She looked up at him where he was just staring at her with his hands on his hips.
“What, Smartass?”
“I said, you’re like a three year old trying to take off a turtleneck sweater. Do you want some help? I can help you take it off, or I can cut it off, or I can stand here and wait for you to finish.”
An exasperated sigh, “I’ll take the help. I can’t afford for you to cut it. It’s my only t-shirt now. The rest of my clothes were in the trailer.”
Garen’s eyes bored into hers as he slowly and deliberately told her “Kara, don’t worry about that right now. I still have a ton of stuff at the house for you to use and sort through. As long as Bekka or I have even a tarp for a shelter, you have a home with us.”
Garen inspected the wound on her arm. The bullet had creased the muscle. It was a shallow trench in the tricep. It would hurt when she used it but wouldn’t bleed too bad.
“Ok, decision time. I can fix this a bunch of ways. I can wrap a bandage around it and call it good, but when you tried to use the muscle you might tear it worse. I can use the butterfly dressings and it might hold. I can use the trauma stapler, or I can stitch it. Those are your choices.”
“Shit. What’s the most durable? You can’t afford me to screw up my arm trying to ride.”
“I can stitch it, then dermabond and a dressing over it. That will hold it together the best and keep you mobile. It won’t be quick to do but will serve best in the long run.”
“It’s almost nightfall anyway Garen. I don’t think a night ride would be good tonight. Do you agree?”
Garen looked at the wound, calculating the work necessary to do it right, then his watch.
“Let’s call it a night here. I can do my Betsey Ross imitation, we can get some food in us, reload the bikes better and catch some zzzs. Then an early start in the morning to slip past some of this area before the zombie horde wakes up and hears us coming. What do you think?”
Kara nodded and unzipped her sports bra so she wouldn’t get any more blood, or worse, betadine, on it and lay down on the table.
Garen tucked the airway roll form his pack under her head as a pillow. He then handed her a couple of tablets to swallow, one a pain drug, the other an antibiotic. He then assembled his tools to stitch up the wound. As he is working on her in the light of his headlamp, the pain meds take effect and Kara gets light headed and emotional. Garen has seen this in many patients. The effect is similar to being drunk; a loss of inhibitions, talkative and all kinds of other effects can happen.
“Garen, why me? What karmic debt am I still paying off? Why does everyone and everything I touch go to shit? Tell me Garen, Tell me.”
Garen looks up from where he was sewing. “Kara, you are one of the strongest, most resilient people I have ever known. You have survived things that would have killed or crushed most people. You have saved people, you have helped people, all without regard for yourself. Just as you must heat iron to make steel, I believe one must be forged in the fires of adversity to become stronger and more able to prevail the trials and tribulations life will throw at us.”
“Who did I save? I just keep blundering into situations and somehow fighting my way out of them”
“Kara, I saw the after-action report. I talked to Bekka. The last trip out of England, when she got knocked down and took the shrapnel, you stood over her exchanging fire with the bad guys. You took two to the chest in your trauma plate. When others were shitting themselves and looking for something to hide behind, you stood up and fought. Now. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. This is just a scratch and will be no more than a scar the size of a sharpie line in a couple of weeks. Do something else. I know, sing me the Barbie Girl song and let me get back to work.”
She laughed and sang the Barbie Girl song, then Henry the Eight and a few more silly ones until she dropped off to sleep while he worked. Once he was done, he covered her up. He then repacked his med ruck and stowed it on the bike. He then put hers on the center stand so they could inventory and rebalance gear in the morning.
He searched around inside until he found a roof access ladder. He was able to get the hatch open and climb out onto the roof. Looking around, he saw some areas in the distance lit up, but most areas to the west were pitch black. The night air was quiet in the darkness. He sat down on the roof for a few minutes staring at his hands and the blood on them, thinking. After a few minutes, he realized he was praying to god for guidance and clarity in his decisions ahead. He was also praying for the answer to how to help his friend. She was still hurting inside and he didn’t know what else to do to help.
Fatigue came over him and he remembered the real reason he climbed to the roof. He pulled out his radio.
“ATC, this is Briar Flight, Blade 53 and Faith 27. RON Rabbit, push arrival +24, Acknowledge?”
No answer.
He extended his antenna.
“ATC, this is Briar Flight, Blade 53 and Faith 27. RON Rabbit, push arrival +24, Acknowledge?”
A female voice brought his spirits up and thrilled his heart anew.
“Briar Flight, acknowledge two ship Spike 53 and Faith 27, RON Rabbit, arrival push +24. Advise and update for changes”
A big smile on his face and tears in his eyes, he replied.
“Copy, Briar Flight, Out”
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
CCG,
Kara is carrying a lot of baggage that needs to be let go and live in today for the future.... At lest she has a good guy and gal to help....
Now tomorrow will be a challenge to get home.... Leave wee hours while most are asleep????
Thanks for the chapter....
Texican....
Kara is carrying a lot of baggage that needs to be let go and live in today for the future.... At lest she has a good guy and gal to help....
Now tomorrow will be a challenge to get home.... Leave wee hours while most are asleep????
Thanks for the chapter....
Texican....
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you.
Siskiyoumom
Veteran Member
Stellar writing! Thank you for excellent additions to your stor! I love your use of paragraph breaks. They make it easier on my aging eyes.
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
He woke up sometime in the middle of the night and didn’t know where he was. Everything was blackness. He took a slow inventory of his body. He was in a cramped position, half sitting up against some sort of pole. His neck hurt, his back hurt and he wasn’t alone. He slowly slid his right hand up and hear the crinkle of an aluminized casualty blanket and felt the warm skin of a naked back. That explained the weight he felt laying against his chest. He was also drenched in sweat inside his clothes. A soft whisper came up to him from Kara.
“It will be ok, go back to sleep. I’ll keep them away. Rest.”
He was worn out. It sounded like a good idea at the time so he did.
When he next stirred, he saw Kara standing over one of the work tables with a pile of gear from her bike, examining it and reorganizing it in the light of her headlamp. She was still naked from the waist up.
“Kara, how are you doing?”
“The arm hurts, but it will work. It’s good that you woke up. I thought I was going to have to wake you up. “
“Why, what’s going on?” he groaned as he staggered to his feet.
“I was up on the roof and off to the west, nearby, we have added fire to the calamity striking the region.”
“Any other cheery news?”
“Sporadic gunfire all around, nothing sustained. I felt safer in Ilidža, but it’s about the same level of fire.”
“So any other exploring you did?”
“Found the bathroom, the water is still on. We should top off everything. The showers still work as well. I’m going to rinse off real quick. You should too. You were doing calisthenics in your sleep. You were starting to make too much noise, so I curled up to you to try and quiet you down.”
“So it was laziness with an impending shower was the reason you were, correction, are running around half naked?”
“No, smartass, I need your help with the compression shirt. Besides, you and Bekka have seen me naked all the time. Same with me and you guys. You suddenly have a case of the shys?”
“No, just too many jumbled flashbacks to places I’ve never been.” He was quiet for a moment, then he looked over at Kara
“Kara, promise me something.”
“No, I am not having your children”
“I’m serious, Kara. Promise me something”
“Don’t do this, we have too many things to do”
“Promise me ……If anything happens, Take care of Bekka.”
“That promise is already engraved on my heart and in my soul. In this have no fear. “Her voice was thick with emotion.
She grabbed a small hand towel from the bottom of one of her saddlebags and headed toward the back corner where the bathrooms were. Over her shoulder she said
”Grab your shower shit, the pressure might not last long. We need to get resituated and on the move, we don’t have long before dawn.”
By the time he had grabbed his stuff and gotten back to the bathroom, Kara was stepping out of the shower and handing him a small hotel sized bar of soap. As he stepped into the shower, he saw Kara wiping down with the body shammie. He watched her for a moment. He then thought about why he did it and had to laugh. Most guys would be all lustful looking a beautiful body toweling off. And make no mistake, having studied the female form recreationally for years, she was beautiful, however, what he was looking for was range of motion and her use of her left arm, trying to gauge her health and combat effectiveness for the upcoming evac.
The water was cold but clean. By the time he was dry and dressed, Kara had the water bladders from the bike and was topping them off. They then moved to the bikes to sort the gear and rebalance everything. They had their own packs, two packs apiece that were for the students that John told them to take, plus the two smaller bags he handed them at the last minute. What a mess. They didn’t want to leave anything behind, but this was a lot of crap to pack. Fortunately their bikes could handle the weight if they could just get them tied down well. They tied all the student bags down first, followed by the other ones John gave them. On top of those they put their med bags. Their bail bag and fighting load went on them. With things shuffled and balanced better the bikes were more stable.
They checked their fuel state and found they were at about half a tank. They would keep an eye out for more if a relatively safe location presented itself.
While Garen cracked out a map, Kara ran up to the roof with her GPS to get a better fix on their position.
Kara’s voice echoed from just inside the roof hatch.
“Garen, better come up here and see this”
Garen climbed the ladder, concerned at what he would find.
Off to the west and north, there were few if any lights other than some fires. The sky was black, no stars. They had been blotted out by the smoke. As his gaze moved closer, he could see a few fires in nearer subdivisions, ones that should have been free of water. This made no sense. A growing feeling of dread grew in him.
“Did you get the fix?”
“Five Satellites worth”
“Let’s get down from here and get our route and points plotted, right ****ing quickly. I don’t like this. Make sure your weapon’s hot and ready.”
“After yesterday, there was no doubt I was doing that.”
Looking at the map, they would be moving through some more urban sprawl for most of the day til they break out into countryside late in the day. Neither one liked the idea but that was the only way without adding a week to their journey, which was a non-starter. This time, weapons were prepped, mags rechecked, draw positions reevaluated, and armor repositioned. They planned to stay in low revs to try and be as quiet as possible. They also decided to swap lead every hour to prevent too much fatigue. Everything ready, they started the bikes, rolled up the door taxied out. Garen rolled the door back down and they left. Dawn was an hour away.
“It will be ok, go back to sleep. I’ll keep them away. Rest.”
He was worn out. It sounded like a good idea at the time so he did.
When he next stirred, he saw Kara standing over one of the work tables with a pile of gear from her bike, examining it and reorganizing it in the light of her headlamp. She was still naked from the waist up.
“Kara, how are you doing?”
“The arm hurts, but it will work. It’s good that you woke up. I thought I was going to have to wake you up. “
“Why, what’s going on?” he groaned as he staggered to his feet.
“I was up on the roof and off to the west, nearby, we have added fire to the calamity striking the region.”
“Any other cheery news?”
“Sporadic gunfire all around, nothing sustained. I felt safer in Ilidža, but it’s about the same level of fire.”
“So any other exploring you did?”
“Found the bathroom, the water is still on. We should top off everything. The showers still work as well. I’m going to rinse off real quick. You should too. You were doing calisthenics in your sleep. You were starting to make too much noise, so I curled up to you to try and quiet you down.”
“So it was laziness with an impending shower was the reason you were, correction, are running around half naked?”
“No, smartass, I need your help with the compression shirt. Besides, you and Bekka have seen me naked all the time. Same with me and you guys. You suddenly have a case of the shys?”
“No, just too many jumbled flashbacks to places I’ve never been.” He was quiet for a moment, then he looked over at Kara
“Kara, promise me something.”
“No, I am not having your children”
“I’m serious, Kara. Promise me something”
“Don’t do this, we have too many things to do”
“Promise me ……If anything happens, Take care of Bekka.”
“That promise is already engraved on my heart and in my soul. In this have no fear. “Her voice was thick with emotion.
She grabbed a small hand towel from the bottom of one of her saddlebags and headed toward the back corner where the bathrooms were. Over her shoulder she said
”Grab your shower shit, the pressure might not last long. We need to get resituated and on the move, we don’t have long before dawn.”
By the time he had grabbed his stuff and gotten back to the bathroom, Kara was stepping out of the shower and handing him a small hotel sized bar of soap. As he stepped into the shower, he saw Kara wiping down with the body shammie. He watched her for a moment. He then thought about why he did it and had to laugh. Most guys would be all lustful looking a beautiful body toweling off. And make no mistake, having studied the female form recreationally for years, she was beautiful, however, what he was looking for was range of motion and her use of her left arm, trying to gauge her health and combat effectiveness for the upcoming evac.
The water was cold but clean. By the time he was dry and dressed, Kara had the water bladders from the bike and was topping them off. They then moved to the bikes to sort the gear and rebalance everything. They had their own packs, two packs apiece that were for the students that John told them to take, plus the two smaller bags he handed them at the last minute. What a mess. They didn’t want to leave anything behind, but this was a lot of crap to pack. Fortunately their bikes could handle the weight if they could just get them tied down well. They tied all the student bags down first, followed by the other ones John gave them. On top of those they put their med bags. Their bail bag and fighting load went on them. With things shuffled and balanced better the bikes were more stable.
They checked their fuel state and found they were at about half a tank. They would keep an eye out for more if a relatively safe location presented itself.
While Garen cracked out a map, Kara ran up to the roof with her GPS to get a better fix on their position.
Kara’s voice echoed from just inside the roof hatch.
“Garen, better come up here and see this”
Garen climbed the ladder, concerned at what he would find.
Off to the west and north, there were few if any lights other than some fires. The sky was black, no stars. They had been blotted out by the smoke. As his gaze moved closer, he could see a few fires in nearer subdivisions, ones that should have been free of water. This made no sense. A growing feeling of dread grew in him.
“Did you get the fix?”
“Five Satellites worth”
“Let’s get down from here and get our route and points plotted, right ****ing quickly. I don’t like this. Make sure your weapon’s hot and ready.”
“After yesterday, there was no doubt I was doing that.”
Looking at the map, they would be moving through some more urban sprawl for most of the day til they break out into countryside late in the day. Neither one liked the idea but that was the only way without adding a week to their journey, which was a non-starter. This time, weapons were prepped, mags rechecked, draw positions reevaluated, and armor repositioned. They planned to stay in low revs to try and be as quiet as possible. They also decided to swap lead every hour to prevent too much fatigue. Everything ready, they started the bikes, rolled up the door taxied out. Garen rolled the door back down and they left. Dawn was an hour away.
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
She woke up cold and alone on the table. The darkness was complete. She wasn’t sure but she knew she had heard rustling noises to her left. She slipped a small flashlight from her pocket and shined the red light over toward the sound. Slumped on the floor leaning on the leg of the workbench was Garen. He seemed to be shaking and mumbling. She slid off of the table to her feet. Her head hurt with the aftereffects of the pain pill. Gods she hated that. She had had far too many of them over the years.
Something was going on with Garen. Normally he didn’t sleep very well to begin with. Now he seemed to be on the edge of some sort of nightmare. They couldn’t afford any loud screaming or outbursts. They were supposed to be hiding. She sank down next to him and curled into his chest, holding him gently. She hummed a soft little tune as she lay there. He quieted down some. She rested like that for a while until they both dropped into a deeper sleep.
When she next woke, everything was quiet in the building. She slipped out from under the blanket, leaving Garen asleep. She wandered the building in search of her most urgent need, a bathroom. She was beginning to think she was going to resort to a floor drain when she found a small door in the back corner. It led to a small bathroom/locker area, complete with a shower. A quick test showed the water still pressurized. She didn’t flush, not wanting to wake Garen without being in the room.
Her bladder situation resolved, she began exploring some more. She found the ladder to the roof. She figured a good look around to familiarize herself with the terrain would be a good idea since she wasn’t paying much attention on the ride in.
As she stood on the roof, she slowly pivoted around to look in all directions. There were some fires in the distance. She also heard some random pops that most people wouldn’t recognize as gunfire. She knew better. She found her listening to the pattern of fire, to see if it was some one on one or an actual firefight somewhere. Except for the absence of lots of streetlights, it reminded her of all those nights on rooftops in Iraq and Bosnia, and a dozen other places. It felt wrong for it to feel so peaceful, listening to others hunt and shoot one another. It felt like some of the shackles of society had been lifted, if just for a little while. It made her feel a little more alive that she had been.
She could hear Christians voice in her head. His sweet but earnest way of speaking, his passion, his love. She missed him terribly. It was at times like this that the rest of the world’s noise is drowned out in silence that he came to her so clear. She can remember his energy. She could never explain it, and hadn’t really tried to anyone other than Bekka, that she sometimes could almost feel his presence.
The most important part Christian gave her was a better and stronger understanding of faith. Growing up, religion got lip service. Joining the military, her knowledge grew with her experiences. By the time she met Garen and Bekka, she had come to realize many of her perceived problems with organized religion was not the message, but the delivery and the hypocrisy. How is a Catholic priest going to guide his flock on marital issues when they aren’t allowed to be married? How can you preach sacrifice and live in a mansion and fly on a private jet? Everyone is going to hell unless you covert to this particular subsect of church. You can lie, cheat and steal from anyone who isn’t your religion? How can that be right?
She started drilling down into the origin of faith and the word of God, not only in Christianity, but her ancestral religions, and the religions of those throughout the world. It was with this stronger deeper knowledge in her that she met Christian. He too had been studying religion, both for personal reasons and his degree. He was also part of a small group that had a more consolidated religious concept.
Looking at many religions, the core message was similar, yet mildly altered for the understanding of the locals. The flood story, the rules of God handed down through his prophets, Good vs Evil, all are present in the major religions, even those with zero exposure to the others. This in its own right proved the truth of the message. It was the people who interject themselves between the word and message of God and the people that tend to distort and screw things up.
Christian pointed out the dovetailing of the two religions between Norse and Christianity. Adam and Eve were sheltered in the trunk of the World Ash Tree during Ragnarok. Many believe the War of the Angels upon the land prior to man was the basis of the Norse Religion, and became also metaphorical of the struggle of good vs evil and betrayal. It was a more violent time as was the earlier times in the bible, pre-Jesus. The book of Deuteronomy was God’s book of war. The lands grew a bit more peaceful after Jesus and the message of forgiveness to the land, but still others rise up and pervert and twist the message of redemption, looking to conquer rather than help. It is during these times God needs the righteous arm of his angels and his servants to defend the faithful. Not to make war for the sake of war, but for the defense of others.
As they talked together, and studied together, a deeper sense of purpose grew in her. By studying and learning as much as she could, she could try to make herself a better person and spread the word, not with labels and doctrine, but with real faith and belief. She also saw that the weak needed defending so they can prosper.
Christian was also studying the Templars. Contrary to all the money grubbing anti-Templar politics and propaganda over the last several hundred years, they really were in the beginning out to defend and protect the faith and the people. They answered to their faith, not to worldly kings. And for that they were destroyed.
Christian and her had spent many nights talking and when not talking, just sitting within each other’s presence. They both felt calm and at rest with each other in ways both had never felt before. They had decided to get married once the deployment was over. It was to be a simple affair; two warriors of faith pledging to each other and to God their commitment to both, forever.
A trip to the holy land, with just a few very close friends for the ceremony was the plan. They had already decided on non-traditional marriage vows. All was lining up and they were going to tell their friends soon.
It was not to be. The blast shattered Christian’s body like a water balloon, shards striking and wounding Kara along with the metal fragments. He was gone in an instant, and Kara was plunged into despair. Her faith shaken, her focus lost, she wandered aimlessly spiritually for a long time. She threw herself into her recovery physically, then her work mentally, trying to get past the anguish and loss.
The rage that build in her at having salvation and hope so close, only to be ripped away, was in the end crippling her just as surely as someone who lost a leg. After her breakdown or blow up depending on your point of view, and her subsequent medical retirement, she was cast free from the only anchor she had keeping her above water spiritually. She was ashamed to admit, she fell far from right and was scared to think what Christian would have thought of her if he could see her.
She doesn’t remember how it happened or how she got there, but she was picked up by the police for vagrancy one night at a veteran’s cemetery. She was asleep on one of the graves. It was Christian’s. She doesn’t know if she was drunk or high, but when they searched her, the only thing they found in her wallet other than her Military ID card was a card with Bekka’s phone number on it.
The next thing she knew, Bekka was standing there when they opened the door. She didn’t judge, or scold, she just wrapped her arms around her and took her to a hotel. They stayed there a few days, collected what belongings she had and started to help her get well. A few days later Garen was there and helping in his own way.
Before they drove out of town, she had to go by Christian’s grave. She knelt down and talked to him. She thanked him for saving her, told him she missed him, she loved him, and would try to live up to his promise with her. She finished by reciting the vows they were supposed to say together, as she has tried to do every day since.
“I will be without fear in the face of my enemies
I will stand brave and upright that the Lord may love me
I will speak the truth always even if it means my death
I will protect the helpless and do no wrong”
These words rang loud in her head as she whispered them on the rooftop, looking west into the fires and blackness.
Something was going on with Garen. Normally he didn’t sleep very well to begin with. Now he seemed to be on the edge of some sort of nightmare. They couldn’t afford any loud screaming or outbursts. They were supposed to be hiding. She sank down next to him and curled into his chest, holding him gently. She hummed a soft little tune as she lay there. He quieted down some. She rested like that for a while until they both dropped into a deeper sleep.
When she next woke, everything was quiet in the building. She slipped out from under the blanket, leaving Garen asleep. She wandered the building in search of her most urgent need, a bathroom. She was beginning to think she was going to resort to a floor drain when she found a small door in the back corner. It led to a small bathroom/locker area, complete with a shower. A quick test showed the water still pressurized. She didn’t flush, not wanting to wake Garen without being in the room.
Her bladder situation resolved, she began exploring some more. She found the ladder to the roof. She figured a good look around to familiarize herself with the terrain would be a good idea since she wasn’t paying much attention on the ride in.
As she stood on the roof, she slowly pivoted around to look in all directions. There were some fires in the distance. She also heard some random pops that most people wouldn’t recognize as gunfire. She knew better. She found her listening to the pattern of fire, to see if it was some one on one or an actual firefight somewhere. Except for the absence of lots of streetlights, it reminded her of all those nights on rooftops in Iraq and Bosnia, and a dozen other places. It felt wrong for it to feel so peaceful, listening to others hunt and shoot one another. It felt like some of the shackles of society had been lifted, if just for a little while. It made her feel a little more alive that she had been.
She could hear Christians voice in her head. His sweet but earnest way of speaking, his passion, his love. She missed him terribly. It was at times like this that the rest of the world’s noise is drowned out in silence that he came to her so clear. She can remember his energy. She could never explain it, and hadn’t really tried to anyone other than Bekka, that she sometimes could almost feel his presence.
The most important part Christian gave her was a better and stronger understanding of faith. Growing up, religion got lip service. Joining the military, her knowledge grew with her experiences. By the time she met Garen and Bekka, she had come to realize many of her perceived problems with organized religion was not the message, but the delivery and the hypocrisy. How is a Catholic priest going to guide his flock on marital issues when they aren’t allowed to be married? How can you preach sacrifice and live in a mansion and fly on a private jet? Everyone is going to hell unless you covert to this particular subsect of church. You can lie, cheat and steal from anyone who isn’t your religion? How can that be right?
She started drilling down into the origin of faith and the word of God, not only in Christianity, but her ancestral religions, and the religions of those throughout the world. It was with this stronger deeper knowledge in her that she met Christian. He too had been studying religion, both for personal reasons and his degree. He was also part of a small group that had a more consolidated religious concept.
Looking at many religions, the core message was similar, yet mildly altered for the understanding of the locals. The flood story, the rules of God handed down through his prophets, Good vs Evil, all are present in the major religions, even those with zero exposure to the others. This in its own right proved the truth of the message. It was the people who interject themselves between the word and message of God and the people that tend to distort and screw things up.
Christian pointed out the dovetailing of the two religions between Norse and Christianity. Adam and Eve were sheltered in the trunk of the World Ash Tree during Ragnarok. Many believe the War of the Angels upon the land prior to man was the basis of the Norse Religion, and became also metaphorical of the struggle of good vs evil and betrayal. It was a more violent time as was the earlier times in the bible, pre-Jesus. The book of Deuteronomy was God’s book of war. The lands grew a bit more peaceful after Jesus and the message of forgiveness to the land, but still others rise up and pervert and twist the message of redemption, looking to conquer rather than help. It is during these times God needs the righteous arm of his angels and his servants to defend the faithful. Not to make war for the sake of war, but for the defense of others.
As they talked together, and studied together, a deeper sense of purpose grew in her. By studying and learning as much as she could, she could try to make herself a better person and spread the word, not with labels and doctrine, but with real faith and belief. She also saw that the weak needed defending so they can prosper.
Christian was also studying the Templars. Contrary to all the money grubbing anti-Templar politics and propaganda over the last several hundred years, they really were in the beginning out to defend and protect the faith and the people. They answered to their faith, not to worldly kings. And for that they were destroyed.
Christian and her had spent many nights talking and when not talking, just sitting within each other’s presence. They both felt calm and at rest with each other in ways both had never felt before. They had decided to get married once the deployment was over. It was to be a simple affair; two warriors of faith pledging to each other and to God their commitment to both, forever.
A trip to the holy land, with just a few very close friends for the ceremony was the plan. They had already decided on non-traditional marriage vows. All was lining up and they were going to tell their friends soon.
It was not to be. The blast shattered Christian’s body like a water balloon, shards striking and wounding Kara along with the metal fragments. He was gone in an instant, and Kara was plunged into despair. Her faith shaken, her focus lost, she wandered aimlessly spiritually for a long time. She threw herself into her recovery physically, then her work mentally, trying to get past the anguish and loss.
The rage that build in her at having salvation and hope so close, only to be ripped away, was in the end crippling her just as surely as someone who lost a leg. After her breakdown or blow up depending on your point of view, and her subsequent medical retirement, she was cast free from the only anchor she had keeping her above water spiritually. She was ashamed to admit, she fell far from right and was scared to think what Christian would have thought of her if he could see her.
She doesn’t remember how it happened or how she got there, but she was picked up by the police for vagrancy one night at a veteran’s cemetery. She was asleep on one of the graves. It was Christian’s. She doesn’t know if she was drunk or high, but when they searched her, the only thing they found in her wallet other than her Military ID card was a card with Bekka’s phone number on it.
The next thing she knew, Bekka was standing there when they opened the door. She didn’t judge, or scold, she just wrapped her arms around her and took her to a hotel. They stayed there a few days, collected what belongings she had and started to help her get well. A few days later Garen was there and helping in his own way.
Before they drove out of town, she had to go by Christian’s grave. She knelt down and talked to him. She thanked him for saving her, told him she missed him, she loved him, and would try to live up to his promise with her. She finished by reciting the vows they were supposed to say together, as she has tried to do every day since.
“I will be without fear in the face of my enemies
I will stand brave and upright that the Lord may love me
I will speak the truth always even if it means my death
I will protect the helpless and do no wrong”
These words rang loud in her head as she whispered them on the rooftop, looking west into the fires and blackness.
Last edited:
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you.