The men tell a story of the mayhem that took hold of the city seemingly overnight. The fires, screams, and gunshots that filled the night streets at first. It seemed like similar riots that have taken hold of the city from time to time so they initially thought this was just another one and stayed indoors to wait it out. They heard throngs of people screaming as they passed in the night and thought they were looters out to steal what they could in the resulting mayhem. They knew of the sickness that gripped the populace and thought the riot was caused by the lack of available law enforcement.
The next morning, it seemed to be over. There weren’t many people to be seen out and about. The few that were out walked aimlessly down debris-ridden streets, stopping to sift through some of the rubble from time to time. They appeared dazed. Smoke poured from many of the buildings and many of the vehicles lay smoldering in the thoroughfares. It was the next night that showed that it wasn’t over by a longshot.
As the darkness fell, screams again filled the avenues. Those that were out were attacked by gangs and mercilessly torn apart. Neighbor’s houses were invaded and their screams of terror and pain echoed throughout the community. The horror of that night passed and the man speaking, Chris, gathered the survivors in his neighborhood and made for the marina in the light of the day. They took to boats and made for the seeming safer waters. Over time, they came to realize what they were dealing with. Since then, they scrounge for supplies during the day, never venturing far into buildings, and bring the boats out into the bay where they tie together and anchor for the night.
“There used to be more of us,” Chris says. “Over the past few months, we’ve lost a few when we ventured too far into darkened spaces and once, we lost eight when they didn’t make it back to the marina in time.”
Leonard remains quiet, running the images presented by Chris through his mind. He feels thankful he and the crew came into this the way they did and hates to think of having to survive an ordeal such as Chris and his group went through. Leonard glances over to Chief Krandle and thinks of what the chief and his team went through on his mission. A feeling of remorse courses through him when thinking of the way he treated the chief upon his return.
How could I know?
He thinks back to the ordeal Walker told of and shudders again at what these people went through. The mere fact that they survived is miraculous, and to have achieved what they did, even more so. It lends faith that humankind can survive this. What form that survival may take is yet to be seen. The sheer number of night runners is overwhelming. However, here they are, still plugging away, and that gives an air of confidence. Finding the group barely holding on farther north dimmed that hope. Discovering Chris and his group in as good as shape as they are brings hope that they will find their families in San Diego safe and sound. The base will have resources beyond what this group has. Perhaps they loaded the survivors onto the docked naval vessels and put to sea.
But, if that’s the case, why hasn’t there been any communication?
The thought only makes Leonard more anxious to get home.
“So, Captain,” Chris says, breaking through Leonard’s moment of reverie, “where does that leave us? Are you able to take us with you?”
“Are there any injured in your party?” Leonard asks.
“No, sir. We are all fit to travel.”
“We don’t have the facilities to take any of your group on, but we can direct you to a location where a safe haven has been established,” Leonard answers.
With a nod from Leonard, Chief Krandle pulls out an atlas and pinpoints Walker’s location.
“It’s two full days of travel if you choose to drive, providing you don’t run into any problems and have to divert. If that’s the route you decide, I’d recommend finding a place far away from any populated areas to spend the night. I’ve traveled some of the route in northern California and Southern Oregon. Finding unpopulated areas shouldn’t be a problem. I think you’ll be safer if you can find vehicles and stay in them in the unpopulated areas rather than a fortified building in any area that used to be populated. There may be roving marauders as well.
“Now, the safer way that I’d recommend is to use the boats you have. Put ashore at the various inlets along the coast during the day to take on fuel and supplies. The most difficult portion will be along the northern California coast where the rocky shores will make it hard to go ashore and there aren’t any ports. I’d recommend taking along as much fuel as you can carry. The risk factors depend on how comfortable you are with the vessels at your disposal. The sea route will take you considerably longer, and that carries its own risk,” Krandle says.
“I’d feel more comfortable in the boats,” Chris states. “I’m not very fond of going too far inland, and they’ve provided a haven of safety for us so far.”
“Be careful of the currents at the mouth of those inlets. They can be tricky and I’d recommend staying away from them with the tide receding. Make sure to take a tide book along,” Leonard offers. “When you do arrive, make for the port of Olympia and work your way to the haven. Ask for Captain Walker and let them know I sent you. You’ll be welcomed there.”
“Thank you, Captain and…”
“Krandle… Vance Krandle,”
“Thank you. May I take this?” Chris asks, holding the atlas.
Krandle nods. “Feel free. We have others.”
With nothing more to be said, Leonard and the two men say their goodbyes, wishing each other luck. Before long, the two descend the rope ladder and push away, making their way in the choppy seas. The skiff vanishes behind the lead boat and several minutes later, the boats turn and proceed toward shore with a hail of friendly waves directed the sub’s way.
“What now, sir?” The XO asks after everything is secured.
“As much as I’d like to speed home, XO, I want to take a look at the port around Long Beach. We’ll continue sounding the foghorn as we make our way around. Afterwards, we’ll submerge and wait for night. The man said they heard gunshots, so I’d like to see if we find anything. Tomorrow morning, if we don’t discover anything, we’ll turn up the screw and set a course for home. We can check on the remaining coastline afterwards. It’s past time we were there. I’d like to arrive prior to evening, but we need to approach cautiously. If anyone is still around and still active, they won’t be expecting us. Let’s just be cautious,” Leonard answers.
“It’ll be good to be home, sir…regardless of what we find.”
“That it will, XO…that it will.”
Rounding the rocky point, the large port slowly comes into view with the long strand of Huntington Beach stretching out of sight to the south. Ships of all sizes and types anchor inside the immensely long breakwaters. The docks are partially filled with container ships in various stages of loading. It’s like a snapshot was taken and time stopped. Nothing moves except for the slow creep of the shadows from the tall cranes as the sun works its way toward the horizon.
Parking the sub in the middle of the bay, Leonard continues sending their signal hoping for a response. There’s nothing except a periodic glint off an occasional window from the declining sun. With the sun hitting the horizon, Leonard turns the boat around, wanting to start at the northern end of the basin as night falls, and work his way south. If they don’t find anything during the night, they’ll be that much closer for the sprint home come morning.
Maneuvering under a twilight sky, the first points of light begin to show against a darkening background above. Leonard sees the white outlines of Chris’ boats bobbing gently between him and the shore. The wind dies down with the fading daylight leaving gentle coasters rolling toward the shore.