Caden nodded.
“No gas. Civilians can’t buy it at any price.”
“Where do you get the gas to run the bus?”
“You can modify a diesel engine to run on just about anything—even used cooking oil.” With one hand on the wheel he turned almost completely around. A broad grin spread across his face. “Smell that french-fry aroma? That’s what this is running on.”
Maria cocked her head to the side. “french-fries?”
“No,” he waved his free hand. “The vegetable oil used for cooking them.”
Across the aisle sat the woman who collected the fares. In a nonchalant voice she said, “Curve up ahead, sweetheart.”
He turned forward again, but continued to talk. “There are still a few restaurants operating in Olympia. They serve the military and political types mostly and get food from area farms. We get the vegetable oil from them after they’re done with it, filter it and use it to run our bus.”
Maria gripped the bar in front of her as the driver weaved around abandoned vehicles. “So the regular buses aren’t running?” She asked again.
“Nope. They’re barely keeping the lights on in this area.”
There were places where cars and trucks were stalled, wrecked or abandoned but, the driver explained, the police and military kept the freeway passable. Caden had driven this freeway many times as a teen and while going to college and soon he recognized the Olympia area. Minutes later the bus pulled off the freeway and down empty streets. Soldiers or military vehicles were at many of the crossroads. Some shops were open, but most were boarded up or burned out. They turned off Capitol Way onto a side street and almost at once Capitol Lake was to their right along with Heritage Park, but it wasn’t a park. It was a huge refugee camp. The capitol stood on top of a large hill before them.
“This is as close as I can get you,” the driver said pointing to the building.
As they stepped off the bus Maria gripped Caden’s arm. “That was one wild ride. I feel like I should kneel and kiss the ground.”
Caden heard her, but his gaze was locked on the sea of tents, cars and people that filled what had once been a green, lakeside park.
As the bus pulled away the smell of french-fries was quickly replaced by the smell of human waste. In the distance police sirens wailed. Immediately to their left stood a huge tent with FEMA printed on the side. Before them, almost blocking their way, stood an uncountable number of tents, cars, RVs and campers. Smoke rose from hundreds of campfires. Along the edges of the camp were Humvees and soldiers.
Somehow he had expected conditions to get better as he got closer to home, but things weren’t better. Lifting his gaze to his immediate destination, the capitol, he was filled with both dread and a feeling of destiny. Freedom, law and order were all holding on by a thread. The nation would either regroup, fight back against those that attacked it, or descend into tyranny or worse, chaos.
He turned to the woman by his side. And what about Maria? What about Becky? There too, he was at a crossroads. He needed answers and he knew where to get them. “Come on,” he said pointing to the capitol, “that is where we need to go.”
Chapter Eleven
Maria gazed at the capitol high on the hill. “How do we get up there?”
Military vehicles clogged the road. Caden decided to avoid it. “Follow me,” he said and headed into the camp. He looked toward the capitol every few minutes to keep his bearing as they walked through the maze of tents and vehicles. “This is less organized, dirtier and colder than Fort Rucker.”
Maria nodded and held the baby tight.
Brightly colored tents stood side-by-side along meandering paths of mud. The smell of damp, sweat and waste filled the air. In any wide spot along the way people huddled around a fire. Children clustered under blankets in the doorways of tents. After several minutes, Caden gave up avoiding muddy puddles and trudged right through them. Soon the lower half of his jeans were more brown than blue.
It took longer than thirty minutes to cross what had once been a park. At the far end they came to a ten foot high chain-link fence with rolled barbed wire on top.
Caden followed the fence to the bottom of the walkway. There was no gate.
“They’re shutting these people in,” Maria said with a hint of fear in her voice.
“They were building a fence around the camp at Rucker.”
“There were gates. People moved in and out all the time.”
“Perhaps they will here.”
“This camp is more crowded and these people seem hungrier, more desperate.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to be inside when this fence is done.”
Caden didn’t want to be in the cold, muddy camp either. “Come on.” Following the barrier, they moved back in the direction they had just come. It didn’t take long to find troops erecting a new section of fence. Unsure if anyone would challenge them, Caden moved a few yards beyond the soldiers. They stepped across the invisible line and turned up the roadway. No attempt was made to stop them.
Maria looked back. “Why would they stay inside?”
“For the promise of food and,” he said pointing to the soldiers, “perhaps security, and because they have no other place to go.”
Maria turned and headed up the road toward the capitol.
Caden followed and within minutes they came to a Humvee and several soldiers at a roadblock. A private called out, “The capitol campus is closed. Return to the camp.”
“Wait here,” he said to Maria. Taking one step forward he said to the soldiers, “My name is Caden Westmore. Governor Monroe is expecting me.”
The private stepped forward, locked eyes with Caden and slowly scanned down to his mud encrusted shoes and pants. “You’re kidding, right?”
Caden showed his Homeland Security badge. “Call the duty officer and give him my name.”
The private told him to wait and walked back to the other soldiers. A couple of minutes later the soldier returned along with a staff sergeant. “Normally the Governor’s visitors drive up,” the senior man said.
“It’s been a long trip, staff sergeant. May I…we, go up now?”
“No, not yet.” The man paused and looked hard at Caden.
He met his gaze.
“You been in the service?”
“Army. Seven years.”
He nodded. “What was your rank?”
“I made captain before the last force reduction.”
“Okay.” A slight smile crossed the soldier’s face. “A lot of people have tried to get past us over the last few days. Most are desperate, some are mad or scared, but you’re not any of that—and you got my rank correct. Well sir, why don’t you and your wife…”
“Friend.”
“…come on up here and we’ll get this sorted out.”
It took a while to contact the governor’s staff, but in less than an hour Caden, Maria and Adam were stepping from a jeep at the foot of the capitol.
Maria sighed, “I always seem to be looking up at this building. So many steps”
“Forty-two,” Caden said with a smile. “Washington was the forty-second state in the union.
“I wish it had been the first.”
“Let me take the baby.”
She handed Adam to him. “Thanks.”
As they reached the top of the steps, David Weston came out of the building holding a clipboard full of papers. He greeted them then turned to Caden. He said, “The Governor is in a meeting right now and would like you to join them.” He looked Caden up and down and said, “Maybe after you clean up.”