Storiesonline.net ------- Kayla's Flight by PuffDragon Copyright© 2012 by PuffDragon ------- Description: A mutant strain of avian flu becomes a global pandemic Kayla watches the start of World War III. A three way nuclear exchange further reduces the world and Kayla, along with the rest of the survivors, must rebuild from scratch. But from the ashes, she finds a military based life suits her and her skills. But when the population remains constant will she have to give up her hard won new life to become a walking brood mare? Codes: Mf cons reluc het PostApoc slow Mil ------- ------- Chapter 1 "Kayla, come away from the window, the news is almost on." Dr. Gray's voice carried from the living room to where Kayla stood, staring out their kitchen window. Her long brown hair swung heavily around her waist as she turned to look at him. "Papa, there's an ambulance at the Delany's cottage," she told him, voice full of concern. "I know, girl. Now, come here, we'll see if the news is telling us anything more cheerful tonight." He patted the couch next to his recliner, trying to encourage Kayla to sit down and stop fretting. Deep down, he knew the Delany's were just another in a long string of neighbors to become ill and they were as likely to die as the rest. Kayla gave the kind of deep sigh than only a teenage girl can achieve but left the window and curled up on the couch. Dr. Gray leaned further back in his recliner and Kayla neatly tucked her legs, gangly with youth, under her. "Good evening, viewers. Welcome to the world news for Tuesday March 13, 2012," the news anchor's voice was thin and hollow sounding. "Tonight's first, and really only story, the Avian Flu Pandemic continues to ravage America." The news anchor shuffled her papers, looking grim. Kayla could see how sunken the woman's cheeks were and wondered if she was ill. If so, they would have yet another news anchor by tomorrow night. "Efforts to halt the virus are beginning to bear fruit as military test subjects are now showing immunity to the virus. However, thousands of Americans die hourly as the virus moves through large populations." Dr. Gray set his hand on Kayla's arm as she squirmed restlessly. "We'll be fine, acushla. We haven't gotten sick yet." He smiled warmly at his daughter but in the back of his mind his greatest fear was dying and leaving Kayla alone in the world. "I know Papa, but what about all our friends? Or neighbors?" she whispered. Dr. Gray had no answer, he simply pat her hand as he mentally reviewed finishing an emergency kit for her. " ... congress has stated that the military will continue the vaccine trials to ensure the safety of the drug but state politicians are crying out to have the experimental drug pushed to citizens now," the news anchor's voice cut back into their conversation. "They state that due to the high mortality rate and highly contagious nature of this pandemic, the civilian population is at grave risk without even an experimental vaccine." "For those of you just joining us or if you've been living under a rock for the last few weeks," the anchor gave a humorless laugh, "this virus has been classified as a virulent form of avian flu, thought to have originated in the Philippines over two weeks ago. Since its discovery, this virus has spread worldwide and is thought to have killed more than one million people, over two hundred thousand in the last day alone." Kayla shot her father a distressed look and ran to the kitchen window again. "Kayla!" Dr. Gray called to her in hopes that she would come back to the television. It was one thing to watch a plague ravage the nation through the safety of their television but another to watch your friends and neighbors carted off in the night. Kayla returned to her spot on the couch, head hanging. "They're gone, all of them. The lights are off in the house." "We'll be ok, Kay." "Papa, that's the third family on our block!" "Kayla, please hush and watch the telly, we can't do anything about it right now." " ... again the Red Cross and the Word Health Organization are urging everyone to remain in their homes unless absolutely necessary, do not travel, and only consume food from reputable sources." The news anchor shuffled her papers again and tried to muster a smile. "Now, we'll turn it over to Jim with the world outlook." "Thanks, Amanda. Viewers, as Amanda stated, this virus has already killed over one million worldwide, mainly in large cities as foreign travelers spread the virus. The almost every country in the United Nations has closed its boarders to travelers, only allowing essential imports to cross into its land. The United States has begun to enforce strict port and board control which has led to the death of thirteen Mexicans and four Canadians from two incidents in the last two days from overzealous border patrol workers. The US Customs and Border office has stated that a disciplinary hearing is planned, however, three of the five agents involved in the two incidents have already succumbed to the influenza." "The World Health Organization is reporting that the currently mortality rate of this virus is roughly seventy five percent," he cleared his throat and gave an almost imperceptible glance to his co-anchor, "However, they are reporting that a small portion of the population is immune to the disease." He gave a falsely cheerful smile to the camera then moved on. "In other news, there are wide spread reports of rioting in larger cities such like New York, Atlanta, and Los Angeles as people fight to gather what medicines they can. Local morgues and crematoriums are working non-stop to deal with the overflow as-" Dr. Gray clicked his remote and turned off the television. "I think that's enough news for one night. Come; let's go over your studies from today." "Papa!" "No, missy. Just because the world is falling apart doesn't mean you can skip your studies." "But Papa, the other children in the neighborhood didn't have to go to school today. Can't I have a day off as well?" "Pah! The other children aren't homeschooled and aren't geniuses. Now, tell me what you learned about thermodynamics today." Kayla sighed but listed off what she had read. The next few days showed little change other than the death rate rising exponentially. Kayla continued her studies while her father continued working in his office while more of their neighbors were carted away in ambulanced. Kayla was aware that he was on a brief sabbatical from West Virginia University, where he was their premier mining engineer, but other than his knowledge helped her own studies she rarely questioned his work. It wasn't a question of secrecy, merely privacy. Her father allowed her more latitude than the average fourteen year old girl and she respected his personal space as well. She knew that he was working hard with her to get to her ready to go to WVU in the fall. Kayla would be one of their youngest students but having her father as a professor and on campus daily eased the minds of many of the staff who thought she was too young for the college experience. "Now, acushla give me the pros and cons of open pit mining versus longwall mining," Dr. Gray asked her over their dinner. The meal was the last of their fresh meat; tomorrow they would either have to start dipping into the deep freeze for the rewards of the last year's deer season or brave the local supermarket if it was still open. "Open pit mining is above ground and requires large amounts of soil to be moved while longwall can pull the coal out in one long slice but requires supports," she said with a sigh. "Papa, you've already said I'm smart than the average freshman, why do you push so hard?" "Because my darling, you are a genius, your test scores say so. I will not allow you to be a second rate student simply because you are young. Now, eat your veggies, they're the last we have. We're going to the supermarket tomorrow." Kayla rolled her eyes and sighed deeply again but did as she was told. "Why not just eat the meat from the freezer and canned green beans?" She loathed the grocery store on normal days and could only imagine who awful it might be now. "Because, you are a growing girl and I insist that you have the best food available." "You always insist I have the best!" She said with a laugh. His instance on the subject was a long running joke between the two of them. "And don't you forget it! I would also like to complete our survival kit. There are a few things we can add." "Survival kit?" "Yes, acushla. I've been quietly stocking things for a few years, in case of something like this coming up." "Oh? What's in it?" Her girlish curiosity got the better of her. "This and that," he shrugged. "I'll show you tomorrow after your studies, before I leave for the store, so you can be acquainted with it." He glanced at his watch, "Ack, the news!" " ... continues as the death toll rises to 2.2 million." The woman who had anchored two nights previously was gone and her partner now bore her gaunt-faced look. "State and federal government agencies continue to demand the experimental vaccine that is being provided to military personnel, but military officials cite a lack of resources in duplicating the vaccine." He glanced at his script and back up to the camera, pausing. He looked down once again then shook his head and addressed the camera, "Look folks, one of the necessary ingredients to the vaccine is imported from Russia. All of our calls to the Russian consulate have been unanswered. They aren't giving it up." His shoulders sagged, "The Treasury Department has stated that we cannot leverage anymore debt to China to buy the ingredient even if the Russians would sell it. We may just be stuck with this." Kayla glanced at her father, worry in her eyes once again. "Papa?" "Don't worry, girl. We come from strong Irish stock, we rarely get ill." He patted her hand. "Now eat up then it's time for bed. I want to run to the gas station tomorrow to get fuel for the quads before we buy groceries. How will you every get to school otherwise?" "Certainly not in a car!" She giggled. They often joked that she would almost be done with her first degree before the state would allow her to drive a car but she'd been driving quads since she was a small girl. Anyone in West Virginia who hunted had to use a quad, there was no other sane way to bring in a hundred pound deer from the field. Their excursion to the grocery store the next day went without incident but they caught up on town gossip. Star City's only claim to fame was that it bordered Morgantown, West Virginia, home of the state's largest university. Interesting things rarely happened there other than the Mountaineers football season, so a worldwide pandemic had everyone abuzz. Dr. Gray and Kayla digested the news as they unpacked their groceries. "Our neighborhood seems to be the hardest hit, don't you think Papa?" "Well, yes. But the U.S. as a whole has been harder hit so far than most of the world. I'd hazard a guess to say it comes from having a larger traveling population than third world countries." "Well, yes." "Baby girl, do not worry. We will be fine. Now come, let's take those three bags of canned goods, I'll show you the emergency kit." They grabbed the bags and headed out to the house's large shed. "This," he motioned expansively to the old, but well maintained shed, "is your dowry, m'girl." Kayla blushed. "Not much of one, but you never struck me as the china chest type of little girl." Kayla's eyes danced merrily over the collection of small arms, hunting rifles, shot guns, and even a couple of assault rifles. "Now Papa, what would I do with fancy china? Set it in the skeet shooter?" She grinned up at him. He settled and arm around her shoulder and gestured at the shed's well stocked walls. "These are your hunting weapons-" "Henry Golden Boy .22, Remington Rimfire .22, VersaMax shotgun, and a Mossberg AR-15," she listed each of the guns in the age worn rack. "I know, Papa! You act like I haven't been using these very guns for the last ten years!" "Ah now, acushla, but these are new to you," he gestured to the second wall with more semi-auto and full-auto guns. "I haven't shown you these before because they aren't ... strictly legal, you see." He picked up what appeared to be a shotgun from the wall. "This is an AA-12. It's fully automatic so be ready to-" "Reload often. Papa, I have an Xbox, I know!" Her father stared at her for a moment then nodded to himself, pleased. "Very well, we'll go test your skill then!" They spent the remainder of the afternoon testing the various guns and discussing what ammunition would be appropriate for which situations. Dr. Gray may have previously lamented living in such a small town but that day he enjoyed that fact that they owned land at the edge of their neighborhood and could shoot away from the neighborhood without anyone calling the county sheriff. "But Papa, do you really think I'll need this? I mean, isn't it a bit extreme?" "My girl, how many times to I have to tell you that we will be fine, no sickness. But, you never know who else will be around." ------- Chapter 2 Two days after their trip to the supermarket and the impromptu gun demo the news around the world continued its grim outlook. "Today's death toll has risen to over four million dead with over four hundred thousand having died in the U.S. alone." "Oh dear Kayla, another anchor," Dr. Gray told her. Their usual news channel had yet another news anchor as their usual few had fallen ill and not returned. "Congress is pushing the President to demand access to the necessary ingredients for the experimental vaccine that is proving so successful with military personnel. "To date, with four hundred thousand people succumbing to this virus, that is only 0.1 percent of the population, however, since starting vaccinations only 803 military personnel, or .05 percent of the military has fallen ill, most of those prior to vaccination. Civilian officials are threatening government shutdown if an agreement cannot be reached in the next few days." Kayla looked to her father across the table. He merely shrugged and continued eating. "Rioting continues in major cities and has begun in smaller cities such as Houston, Dallas, Raleigh, and Salt Lake City as people demand more humane treatment of the dead and better access to health care." "Papa, it's getting worse." "I know child," he said. Dr. Gray took another bite of venison, chewing thoughtfully. After years with her father, Kayla knew better than to interrupt him mid-thought. "You just keep studying and shooting. Things will-" The harsh, unwelcomed sound of the phone ringing pieced their conversation. "Pardon me, dear girl." Dr. Gray picked up the handset and walked into the next room. Kayla chewed as quietly as possible, trying to follow the conversation. "Yes? No, I do not have a cell phone. Well, I live in West Virginia. This is 'God's Country' but He is not so fond of cellphones apparently. No, I hadn't heard. Well..." He paused, "Yes, perhaps," he paused again. "No, I understand my civic duty it's just-" he glanced back to see Kayla's eyes following him in his study, she blushed deep scarlet at having been caught eavesdropping. He shut the door before she could follow more of the conversation. Kayla finished her dinner silently, straining to hear the conversation. Her father very rarely cut her out of any part of his life or his work. She was both scared and intrigued by a conversation that he would cut her out of. When he came out of his study a few minutes later she looked at him expectantly. He walked past the table without looking at her and went to the fridge. Grabbing a cold beer, he opened it and began drinking, still not looking at her. Kayla blushed scarlet again at having been caught intruding on her father's personal affairs. "I must go to Charleston for a few days," he told her without turning back to her. Kayla's head drooped in shame. "I expect that you can take care of yourself for a few days and keep up with your studies?" Kayla stared at her father's back and thought about the implications of his question and the bit of conversation she had heard. "They want you in the capital?" He half turned his head to her and nodded. "And you'll be there for several days?" He nodded again. "And you're the most brilliant mining engineer in the country?" He didn't nod, but his beer paused halfway to his lips. "They want you to build an underground quarantine don't they?" A long silence followed. Dr. Gray's beer was paused halfway to his lips as he considered how to answer her question. Finally, deciding that he'd never lied to his daughter before, even about something as trivial as Santa Clause, he answered her. "Yes. I'll be gone almost a week. And you will not," he emphasized, "tell anyone what I'm doing. You may tell them where I am if they press you, but otherwise, you will not, cannot, tell them what I'm doing. It might cause panic." He turned to face her fully. "You understand that, right?" "Yes, Papa." "I mean, you really understand the implications of this, right? The government is scared; they don't know how to stop this without a vaccine. People are dying, everywhere. If you let people know what's going on there would be panic, everywhere." "Yes, Papa, I know! I won't tell anyone!" "Good girl," he said and finished his beer. "Now, I must pack. They'll be here to pick me up early tomorrow." The next day, Dr. Gray was up as dawn began to light a charcoal sky. He was gone with only one small bag of clothes and a kiss from Kayla. "Be a good girl. Here's a number that can reach me, if indirectly," he passed her a number on a scrap of paper. "Be good, study hard, and shoot the guns." He tousled her hair then pulled her into a bear hug. "You have an IQ higher than anyone I know or work with, use it to your advantage." She nodded. She looked up to him, her big brown eyes rimmed with tears. "Be safe, Papa. I love you!" He hugged her fiercely, unwilling to let go. "Sir?" The young man assigned to drive him to Charleston looked at his watch significantly. "Yes, yes." He said irritably and wiped the tears from her eyes. Dr. Grey gave her one last look and ran his hand down her long brown hair. "It's only Tuesday, acushla, I'll try to be home by the weekend, or," he turned to the young driver who gave a diffident shrug, "I'll at least try to call. Be good!" He called and stepped into the car. Kayla waved as he drove away. She was distraught. She'd never been alone for so long. As a child she'd had a nanny, who looked after her while her mother and father were gone. Later, when public schools could no longer keep up with her rate of learning she'd been left with a modern day governess for homeschooling. After her mother's death the summer before. Her father had taken a sabbatical, both to recover from his grief and to teach Kayla. They were together every day, rarely separated for more than a few hours. This would be the longest period of time she'd been left alone in her life. While it was liberating, she wished it came at a more stable time in her life where she didn't feel a need to snuggle up with a shotgun at bedtime every night. Resolute, she was determined to keep up with her studies. After a hearty breakfast, she turned to her studies, throwing herself into schoolwork to keep her mind occupied in his absence. The news over the next few showed Kayla a world slowly being overcome by avian flu. The death toll rose rapidly from four million on the day Dr. Gray left to five hundred million by that weekend. Kayla watched as the news went from being broadcast by made up, polished news anchors to haggard men and women, thrown in front of a camera, who's only qualification was that they could still stand upright. The revelations grew grimmer as Congress authorized the use of military force to seize the rare, actinide based ingredient found only in Russia. The news shows grainy cellphone shots of troops loading onto large cargo planes ready to deploy. The news also showed rioting in all the major cities as well as some of the minor cities. Three days after hearing that troops were being deployed Kayla still hadn't heard from her father. Concerned that the guns and emergency supplies were too easy for looters to access and too difficult for her to access she spent a full day lugging them inside. By then, she rationalized, her father would have approved of the use of her time spent away from her studies. She tried several times to call him at the number he'd given her but to no avail. Finally, on Saturday two weeks after his departure, Dr. Gray returned. When he entered their home he found himself at the wrong end of a double barrel shotgun. "Kayla?" He tilted his head to see around the large guns barrel. "Papa?" Kayla's voice sounded hesitant, as if she couldn't believe it was really him. "Papa!" She set the shotgun on the kitchen counter and Dr. Gray found himself in a bear hug. "Oh, Papa! It's been so horrible, where have you been!?" "Kay ... My acushla! I'm so sorry I couldn't call. I was ... otherwise engaged." Kayla could feel him sigh deeply as he returned her hug. "Now girl, what's been happening?" Kayla told him of the war, rioting, and the fact that she'd seen tracks indicating that people had crossed through their property. "I moved the guns and food, Papa. I'm sorry, I took time away from my studies." She hung her head. Dr. Gray pulled her back into his embrace. "There, there girl. I can understand, you did what you had to do. However, you'll have to save telling me what you've learned." "Oh, Papa, are you leaving again? It's too soon, you just got back!" Kayla clung to him more fiercely. "Yes, pet. I have to go to D.C. tomorrow. They'll be by to pick me up in the morning. It was a fight just to spend tonight at home." "But, Papa! You've only just gotten home. And the riots! And people tramping through our land. I've got guns, but how am I supposed to stop someone? Papa, please, I need you here!" Dr. Gray had to look away from the tears and pleading in his daughter's eye. "Kay, if it weren't of such importance, I would stay. By all means, we're safer here than in D.C." He shook his head. Kayla watched him push himself away from the counter he had been leaning on to prowl around the house, closing doors and disconnecting phones as he went. She watched with a puzzled look as he came back to the kitchen table and motioned for her to sit down. "Now, as with my earlier news, this must stay with you alone." When Kayla nodded, he continued. "My plans to dig a quarantine area are pressing forward. With the war, now more than ever, they must continue with the plans. It won't stop what happens, it will only put it on hold. But as fast as this virus spreads, they might not be able to dig it fast enough. You realize that at the rate it spreads and kills, we will have lost half of the world's population," he paused and took Kayla's hand, squeezing hard. "Do you understand that? Not the population of the U.S.," he squeezed again. "The entire world, Kayla, by early April." Tears rolled down Kayla's cheeks, but all she could do was nod. "This changes everything: war, peace, America. All of it will change. From what I've learned, third world countries are gone. Almost no one is left. Countries in Africa, ravaged by AIDS disappeared first. South America is almost gone except for a few people in Santiago and Sao Palo. Less developed Asian nations are being swept clean too. This whole world is on a collision course with death either by illness or war." Kayla could only shake her head, tears streaming silently down her face. "Papa, please ... how does it stop? How do we stop it?" "We secure the vaccine, inoculate anyone and everyone we can." He dropped his head, shaking it slowly. "Dear girl, spend the next few days while I'm gone on the internet. Learn the survival techniques I don't have the time to teach you. I'll cover what I can tonight but I must trust that you can absorb what you can through there. Then..." his voice trailed off and he smile, "play video games." Kayla's head jerked upright. She had no idea her father knew she even played video games. "Yes girl, I know all about it. You finish your homework and play for hours on end. You aren't nearly as studious as you want me to believe!" Kayla blushed and he patted her hand. "Play all you want. Who knows how much longer the power will stay on? You might as well get what you can while you can." "Papa, when will you come back?" "The next step will take at least another week if not two and even then it will only be the beginning. We must pull whole rock faces out-" "Long wall?" "Yes, exactly." He huffed slightly, "I only have so many hours Kayla, let me finish." She nodded for him to continue. "Once we have it complete in a couple of weeks I will come for you. Until then, stay here. I will call to tell you how things go, then once again to tell you when to expect I am headed home. Hopefully," he chuckled, "I will save myself coming face to face with the barrel of your gun again!" He pulled her into a quick hug. "Please, trust me Kayla." She sighed and leaned into him, "I do, Papa." ------- Chapter 3 The pair talked until a car showed for Dr. Grey at dawn the next day. After a tearful departure Kayla felt cold and lost as she walked back into her home. She gave wistful one glance to the television, thinking she should check the news, but decided sleep was a more immediate priority. When she woke at mid-afternoon she wished she'd checked the television. While she and her father had stayed up talking the U.S. had launched a massive assault into the heart of Russia. Lawmakers, with no military experience, had declared war upon Russia in hopes of securing the only known vaccine's necessary ingredients. "The results have been devastating to both sides," yet another news reporter told his audience. The man was young, barely out of his teens, and Kayla guessed that the station was putting anyone who knew which end of the microphone to hold in front of the cameras. The young man shuffled his papers, "Reports say that the initial wave of attacks cost us almost every resource, which I take to mean both equipment and personnel-" "Of course it does, idiot," Kayla snapped at the television. "And we have unconfirmed reports that the Russians took similar losses. "Congress has officially declared war on Russia and vows that we will not cease until we have secured the vital ingredients, whether through diplomatic means or force." He took a deep breath which Kayla echoed, feeling frustrated. "In other news, the vaccine we are now struggling for has proven to be extremely effective. Reports say that over sixty percent of our military forces at home and fifty percent abroad have been inoculated. Those inoculated have shown to be immune to the disease. Efforts are now being made to give the remaining to immunizations to critical political, agricultural, commercial and industrial leaders. "Rioting continues to spread from not just our major cities but to minor cities and towns as well as the large loss of life has begun to halt the transportation of goods and services. Almost two hundred million deaths have been reported worldwide but the World Health Organization postulates that the death toll is much higher due to potentially no reports a lack of reports from areas where the devastation may be total." The man's face was replaced with grainy video of damaged buildings, flaming cars, and looters entering a grocery store. Kayla clicked off the television, disgusted and fearful. A week later the news had grown grimmer still. Kayla sat curled up in her father's chair as she watched only peripherally aware that there were no other lights on in her neighborhood as darkness fell. The news agencies no longer bothered putting anchors before a camera, instead favoring a steam of information below shoddy video of violence in the major cities, most likely captured by cellphones. Kayla hugged her knees and watched the screen with bloodshot eyes, rimmed by dark circles. Terrified that she would be overrun by the looters and rioters she saw on the news she had only slept a few fitful hours each day. The slightest noise caused her to tense and run her hand over the handgun strapped to her side. She hadn't heard from her father since his departure and the lack of information, with open war upon them, made her fear the worst. Had his project been successful? With over a billion people now dead, was it worth it? She could only speculate as she worked daily to keep herself fed and sane. Kayla blinked slowly and her head drooped as the news streamed by. She slowly slumped into the chair, hoping to finally let sleep claim her, when the video cut and the scene cut to something new. A middle aged man in a blue military uniform adorned with ribbons and insignia stood in front of a logo proclaiming him to be at the Pentagon. He leaned heavily on his wooden podium and stared to the right of the screen. With a nod to the people off-screen he turned to face the camera. "My fellow Americans, good evening. Tonight I bring you grave news. With the death toll now at two billion human lives lost worldwide, seventy million alone here in America, there has still been no resolution with Russia to secure what is possibly the only way to halt this terrible pandemic." Kayla sat bolt upright in her father's chair and stared at the screen. "It is with the heaviest of hearts that I must tell you that unless the Russians can be brought to giving us the ingredients necessary to continue our way of life that we will abandon our 'no first use' policy and be forced to use nuclear weapons to secure this ingredient." Kayla gasped her mind racing. When would this happen? What would the Russians do in retaliation? Was her father safe in DC? Assuredly not, as it was likely to be high on the Russian priority list. She clutched the chairs armrests firmly. "We can only urge you to remain calm in this troubled time." The screen cut back to the looped feedback. "That's it?" Kayla asked the television. "Nothing more than a warning that we're about to go to hell in a hand basket?" She threw a pillow in frustration but laid her head back down, hoping for a few minutes of sleep. The sound of a phone ringing pierced her sleep. Kayla jerked awake and fumbled for the handset. "Hello?" Her eyes darted around the dark house. "Kayla!" Dr. Gray's voice sounded ragged. "Papa!" Kayla shrieked into the phone. "Papa, I'm so-" "Not now, Kay. Listen to me. Things have gone over the edge. People here in D.C. are talking about using nuclear weapons," "I know, Papa." "The project has gone south, they can't spare manpower to drill so they're abandoning it. I'm being released but I'm having trouble finding transportation. I'm worried that D.C. would be a target in a retaliatory strike. They haven't shown it on the news but there have been attacks with in the city already." He took a ragged breath, "I'm sorry Kay, I may not make it home to you." "No Papa, no!" "Girl, I will try to make it back to you but when this goes bad, and it will, you leave our home." "Papa, why?" Kayla's hands shook as she cradled the phone to her ear. "It won't be safe and it will be too isolated. They've started talking about where they will rebuild from, that's how dire it is." Kayla tried to talk, to say something, anything but her voice was choked with tears. "They will need power which means they will need coal. Find a spot where there's a rail or airport near a mine. Hole up there and wait. Eventually someone will need the coal and you can go with them." "Okay," Kayla whispered into the phone. "Pack the guns, food, tools anything you will need for an extended camping trip and load the quads. I wouldn't expect that GPS will work so take hard copies of our maps." Dr. Gray paused his rushed speech. "Don't trust civilians at first and look for military men or women. They'll probably be in change and can lead you somewhere safe." "Yes Papa. I love you." "I know Kayla. If I can get out of here I will try to rejoin you," he paused. "You know it's unlikely, right. When we say goodbye tonight it's not a 'so long, see you later', it will probably be goodbye forever." Kayla sobbed harder but choked out a "Yes." "Be strong. You're smarter than almost everyone I know and I know you can survive this." Kayla could hear noise in the background. There was the sound of a hand being placed over the phone. "I'm so sorry Kay, I have to go. I love you! May fate guide you to safety. I love you!" "I love you too Papa," she choked out but it was too late, the line had gone dead. The next day, Kayla watched the news in horror as it reported the complete destruction of Los Angeles, Washington D.C., Atlanta, New York, and Chicago by nuclear weapons. Kayla closed her eyes to stem the tears that fell. She wanted, needed to feel hope that her father was still alive. However, in depths of her soul, the part she only acknowledged in the darkest depths of night, she knew he was dead. She could have dried her eyes and tried to push through her day. She could have logically acknowledged that the likelihood that she'd see her father again was extremely low. But, in the end, she did as any teenage girl would do, curled up in a ball on the couch and sobbed, crying out for a father who would never be there again. ------- Chapter 4 The twang of a snare was unmistakable in the predawn quiet. Kayla held still in her sleeping bag, listening for any rustle of her prey. It was the time where the balance between dark and light was unmistakable. She could feel the magic that was the very soul of humanity waking pull at her. Had her prey given any wriggle of life, she would have shot from her sleeping bag to wring its neck quickly, but the prevailing silence let her stay snug in her bag. She was too hungry to give up valuable protein but too tenderhearted to let it die a slow and agonizing death, tangled in her snares. As dawn broke she struggled from her bag. Even though it was now late spring, she could see her breath and she gave a silent thanks to her father for insisting on purchasing sleeping bags designed for negative twenty even though West Virginia never got to such a chill. Kayla was glad too that he was taken her camping when the weather was brisk as it meant that she knew a few survival tricks: keep your socks for tomorrow in your bag, sleep naked to allow the greatest amount of radiated heat, and if it's going to be brutally cold, keep your water bottle in your bag to keep it from freezing. Kayla stumbled from her two man tent and gave it a quick look. It would be safe enough, tucked in next to the four wheeler, until she returned from checking her trap line. She trudged off into the semi-dark, stomping to get her feet fully into their boots. She'd stopped close to what she thought was Midlothian, Maryland the night before after pushing the quad to the limit of its range. She had stayed off the interstate but managed to find a gas station that still operated by credit card just as her extra gas was depleting. She had filled both the quad and her two jerry cans with gas, forsaking weight in fuel for water and food. She'd been forced to leave a small cooler with the last of her frozen meat in order to carry both cans. She'd agonized over it, but in the end, if she was to reach the edges of the D.C. area she needed the gas. Now, with the sun peaking over the horizon, she was checking trap lines set up the night before in hopes that she could make up for the lost protein. Luckily for her, the sharp twang that had awoken her had been caused by a hapless bunny bouncing through her line. Kayla removed the bunny from the trap, grabbed it by the head, and gave it a quick, sharp swing to insure it was dead before adding it too her small pack. She traced the route of the rest of the line, but the one bunny was her only catch. Disappointed, she disassembled each trap as she came across it. By eight o'clock Kayla had finished her walk and was busy dressing the rabbit by a small fire. She was scared to have a large fire going, possibly attracting attention, but had no other way to cook her rabbit. She skinned, cooked and ate the bunny, then kicked out her small Dakota fire before she could attract the attention of any surviving locals. This was her third night away from the shelter of her home and she was still afraid she'd be attacked by marauding locals. Prior to her departure the news, such as it was, described the situation along the eastern seaboard as desperate. There were few people who had survived the flu and fewer still who had survived the nuclear exchange. Broadcast news had ceased after the first wave of nuclear exchange but Kayla had still found a few websites updating the progress of the war. As far as Kayla knew, Russian forces had made it onto U.S. soil in places like Washington, Oregon, and Montana but nowhere else. One website had speculated that the Russians and/or the Chinese had made it as far as the edges of D.C. but after the complete nuclear destruction of the District, it seemed that even if they had they had little effect there now. Kayla gave the straps on the last precious section of gear a final tug then considered her map. Her GPS told her that she should be just south of Midlothian, MD but she wasn't sure how accurate that would be. One of her websites had told of a brief space war, knocking out satellites, possibly the ones carrying the GPS signal, but she couldn't confirm it with any accuracy. Sighing, she resigned herself to pushing north, into the town she was skirting, to check her location. Surely one building in town would have the name of the town on it. She gunned the quad's engine and headed out of the woods. Kayla was scared to follow roads but had no other reliable way into town. Roads were meant for travel which meant that she was likely to encounter people, something she was hesitant to do. At this point, she was on edge enough to shoot her own grandmother had the dear lady had been alive. A night of fitful sleep after weeks of fitful sleep and now out of her element, Kayla's nerves were shot. In her mind, scenes of ambush and violence replayed. As she reached the edge of town she stopped to settle her father's automatic shot gun across her lap, safety off. She stroked the gun lovingly. Sure, a gun was not her father, but in his absence it filled the gaps. As Kayla entered the edge of town she could already see the wake of devastation the flu had wrought. Few, if any, buildings had escaped what rioting the small town had hosted. Most buildings had missing windows and some were crumpled at the edges from vehicles crashing or scraping into them. Kayla paused to turn her engine off so she could listen for sounds of life in the center of town. Only the sound of Kayla's breath interrupted the chilling silence in the town. Kayla confirmed that she was in Midlothian when she found the post office late in the morning. That fact heartened her because it meant she was only a few miles from the local coal mine, its rail stop and an airport. Dr. Gray had told her that if she ever needed to rejoin civilization to go somewhere where they could find power. All civilizations required power, whether that came from human beings of coal, they needed it. Kayla, having been raised to be a mining engineer, immediately thought of coal mines and had set out to the nearest big facility. Midlothian and Frostburg had hosted the largest facility in the area, but Cumberland, 13 miles east, was the nearest airport. Kayla fretted, wondering if whatever people survived would be more likely to use rail or airplane to transport coal, but finally decided air travel was the easiest to overcome a trapped or nuked railway. On that decision, she finally moved eastward towards Cumberland, as well as the District. Two days' muddy trek later she sat on the quad within viewing distance of the Cumberland airport. It had only been fifteen or so miles by highway but staying in the woods, climbing up and down western Maryland hills on a fully loaded quad slowed her progress. Two hundred feet above and just west of the airport she was able to see most of the activity on the premises and was dismayed. From her vantage point she could see men and light equipment moving around the airfield. A sign describing 'DirtyBird Aircraft Detailing' hung over the center of activity. Kayla counted around twenty men and no more than three women using the DirtyBird hangar as a center of operations. She spent the better part of her day watching them haul in supplies via pickup truck and the occasional U-Haul van. As far as she could tell they were well stocked to last the next few months: bottled water, pre-packages meals, ropes, tools, and fire craft equipment had been hauled in and unloaded by the men and women in the hanger. Kayla had been further dismayed to see the treatment the women received. From her crow's nest Kayla had watched one woman be singled out from her small group, pulled roughly aside and dragged out of view from her vantage point. When the woman had reemerged her clothes were in a disarray and her face was set in a determine grimace. Kayla wasn't well versed in human mating rituals, but didn't imagine that the woman was happy with how her encounter had gone, if it had been what Kayla imagined it was. After seeing the encounter Kayla had flopped down in the dirt, determined to avoid the group but hesitant to leave the local area of the airport as she'd heard aircraft circling nearby early in the day. Deciding that being close to, but not found by, people was better than isolation was best she settled in for the night, setting her small tent close to her quad and arming a trap line nearby. After an MRE for dinner, gross even after a day long ride, she lay awake listening to the sounds of male voices drifting across the tarmac. Kayla woke before dawn again, bolting awake at the sound of an aircraft flying overhead. The sun hadn't yet crossed the horizon and her wristwatch showed that it was just before six. She rolled to her stomach, wondering if she should rise and break camp. Deciding that it was prudent to be packed this close to unknown civilians, she got up. Her luck was decidedly sour as she quickly checked her empty trap line. Silently grumbling she broke open another MRE and hoped the chemical heaters were still functional. At day break a half hour later she was in a much cheerier disposition for the warm food in her belly. However, the sound of a snapping twig in the distance broke her early morning peace. Her eyes darted around; looking for the source of the sound, but came up empty. Quietly, she kicked out another Dakota fire and walked toward her quad, hoping to start it up and find another high ground. Her exodus was stopped by a small woman in ragged clothes by the machine. She was slender, gaunt even, leaning against the quad. They stood, eyeing one another in the dawn light. "Run now. While you still can," the woman whispered. Kayla could only stare at her dumbly. The woman shook her head sadly then opened her tiny mouth. "Intruder!" The woman bellowed with surprising volume for such a small person. Kayla gave her a fearful look then sprinted for her quad. As she sprinted to the vehicle she heard a whirring noise then a meaty thunk. Stunned, she looked at her left leg to see an arrow protruding from her quad. Confused, adrenaline surging, she limped forward to the quad, now only feet from her. She didn't want to be any part of whatever party was at the hangars below, she only wanted to escape. Fate, it seemed, had other plans. Kayla staggered forward awkwardly. The pain hadn't caught up to the adrenaline surging through her. Her mind focused solely on the quad, unable to see anything beyond her perceived escape route. She staggered one step, then another, before collapsing on the ground Pain flared in her thigh. Agony. Burning pain seared through every neuron in her highly educated brain, she writhed on the ground, her thrashing sending up sounds to the nearby party of men and the one woman who tried to save her. Kayla slipped into a daze, only peripherally aware of what happened around her. She had visions of handcuffs and ropes. Her precious quad being fired up by a gleeful and unknown man. Her supplies torn apart as the raiding party looked for useful weapons and fuel. She tried to focus on what was happening around her but couldn't push her mind past the pain in her thigh. She tried to focus on a single object so she could observe what was happening but her vision faded from narrow gray to black when she was cognizant and was a blissful black when she wasn't. The woman who had tried to warn her brushed a comforting hand across her brow. "Just let the pain take you, unconsciousness is the only luxury I can offer you now." Her serious brown eyes met Kayla's. "We have no anesthetics, we can't knock you out." She bowed her head to pray to non-existent gods, "Please, by all that's holy, keep this child asleep as long as you can." Kayla, a devout atheist, tried to protest, but pain and sleep deprivation finally overcome her. ------- Chapter 5 One eyelid cracked open in the predawn light. Kayla, her body and mind too accustom to waking then, tried to observe her surroundings. She cast about, trying to count the number of people sleeping near her or find an exit but was hampered by pain and the complete darkness that surrounded her. Grimacing, she assessed what she could. Sometime while she was out cold, they had bound her hands. She twitched her legs and was rewarded with searing pain. She pushed her bound hands down her thigh and found that the arrowhead in her leg was still there. They must not have any medical training, she thought. Gently she felt around the wound and found light dressing to stabilize the arrowhead, but nothing further. The bastards who held her knew basic first aide but nothing more, she decided. She gave the arrow an experimental tug hoping it would come out, but was rewarded only by her own groaning when it only came out a small amount. Try as she might to stay silent; she couldn't hold back the whimper of pain. The noise carried across the hangar and drew attention from her guards. A man sleeping nearby woke and came to the cot she was stretched out on. He gave her a hateful look for waking him but brushed his hand across her forehead in a businesslike manner. then jerked it back. Kayla assumed she felt feverish when he turn and fled quickly from the room. She felt flushed and hot, pain still radiated from her thigh. Breathing deeply, she tried to push the pain away as she eased the arrow out. 'Stay quiet, ' she told herself and gave a firmer tug. She howled in pain. "Shut up you tiny bitch!" A voice cut through the darkness as a man approached. Kayla tried to keep her painful sobs to a pained whimper at the fury in the man's voice. He strode into view, having obviously been raised from his bed. The man was clad in a plain white t-shirt and a thick robe. His firm stride brought him swiftly to the side of her uncomfortable pallet. She tried to hold still, mitigating the pain in her thigh, but he grabbed the front of her camouflaged hunting shirt and pulled her up to face him. She tried to avoid his eyes but he shook the front of her shirt, bringing her focus level with him. "Why are you fucking whining, you bitch?" He screamed. Kayla was unaccustomed to swearing and certainly to being violently handled. She burst into tears from the pain and humiliation. The man shook her harder forcing her to look up into his eyes, "Where are you from? Where did you get the four-wheeler? Are there more of you?" Each question was punctuated with a sharp jerk on her shirt. Kayla could only sob and snivel, trying to answer as he shook her. He looked at the two women in her room then back at the one, still trailing bed sheets behind him, and asked "What the fuck is she saying?" The quiet woman who had called her out the day before tried to insert herself between the man and Kayla. "Sir! Master, I'm sorry, but she appears to be mute." The small woman pushed his hands away and pushed Kayla onto her camp cot. She gave Kayla the barest of nods and Kayla decided being deaf and dumb wasn't the worst thing in the world as the man shook the small woman hard. "Dumb and deaf? Jebuz! I find a nubile bitch and she can't hear a word I say! Fuck." He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. He turned to the little woman, "You find a way to tell her she has one fuckin' day to figure out what I want," he grabbed his crotch and looked hard at Kayla, "then I take the little bitch, underage or not." The woman nodded, shaking and not daring to look at Kayla. The angry man stormed out of the hangar, leaving emotional devastation in his wake. Kayla's eye darted to the hangar door then back to the little woman. She took a deep breath, exhaled and turned to Kayla. "How old are you, girl?" Kayla, still shaking, answered her, "Fourteen and a half or so." "And a half?" The woman shook her head, "If you're still young enough to count half years you're young enough that you don't need to be with the likes of us. We'll try to get you out of here if we can. This is no place for a child." Normally, Kayla would have countered such a statement with the fact that she was smarter than most adults but today she wisely kept her mouth shut and nodded, eyes wide with fear. "Is there a doctor here? There's still an arrowhead in my leg, I'm afraid it's infected," she tried to tell them in a reasonable voice but was afraid her fear was creeping in. "No child, there's no doctor. We'll have to pull it out and give you the best meds we can find." Her eyes darted around, "I'm sorry, I tried to warn you." Kayla gave a solemn nod but failed and winced with pain. "Please, let's just get this arrowhead out." Minutes later her screams could be heard across the tarmac. "What in the bloody hell are you on about woman!" The angry man was back, shaking the little woman as hard as he could and pointing at Kayla who was writhing on the ground in agony, having just had the arrowhead pulled out with no anesthetic. "The arrow is gone from her leg. She'll heal and be a productive worker now!" The small woman tried to insist. "Are you fucking stupid? Pulling out a goddamn arrowhead with no pain meds? What the fuck is wrong with you?" Kayla was vaguely aware that he was shaking her violently. "Please," she croaked her voice hoarse with pain, "it feels better without it." The man stopped shaking the woman and stared at Kayla, flung across a dirty palette on the ground. "So you can talk, when you aren't shut up by pain. I will keep that firmly in-" The sound of a plane overhead cut him off. He dropped the woman and ran for the hangar door. "He's been trying to signal the plane for several days now." She told Kayla as she rubbed her neck. The second woman in the room came to rub her neck but the small woman threw her hands off. "Don't touch me you filthy whore." The small woman batted at her hands irritably. "You and her," she pointed at the woman in the bed sheets, "whores the both of you. No spines. No shame." Kayla looked at both women who bore the signs of long suffering at the hands of the angry man, bruises and cuts. "Whores?" She asked the small woman. "Too weak to fight him," she mumbled as she checked Kayla's cuts. "Or perhaps smart enough to know when they're beaten," Kayla offered eyeing the fierce bruises on the small woman's arms and neck. "Bull. I'm smaller than both of them and I've kept him offa me!" "Maybe you're just braver and they need your help." Kayla whispered, "Maybe try to help them instead of insulting them." The small woman pulled back from inspecting her leg for damage. "Or, they're just spineless whores, just like you!" Kayla shook her head in denial but the woman stepped back. "You're on your own, girl. Good luck with him," her laugh was sharp and raucous in the cavernous hangar. She strode out of Kayla's line of site and the other two women approached. "She's jealous," the one in bed sheets told her. "She was his only before he found us, before the nukes." Her accent was tinged with West Virginia drawl. "She was a professor, thinks she's so smart." Distaste colored her voice. "Hush!" The other woman told her, "He hates us all equal, like. Don't go judging her jus' caus' she ain' been screwed by the likes of him in a coon's age." Kayla nodded, as if in agreement, but wondered how quickly she could escape this place. She tried to swing her legs over the edge of the bed but was stopped by the moron twins. "No! You can't jus' leave!" "The hell I can. I don't belong here. I'm trying to find my father," Kayla told them. "Where?" "D.C." The taller of the two, the one clothed, laughed. "Girl, D.C. is gone. Or didn't you know?" Kayla held her eyes, still refusing to admit to her private nightmares. "I have to leave. I'm not his property and I don't intent to be his third. Or fourth, whatever." The moron twins exchanged glances. "Help me up," Kayla commanded. It spoke to their supposed spinelessness when both scurried to help her to her feet, though she swayed on them. "I'm fourteen and no one's joy toy." She told them in a fierce voice tinged with pain as the sound of a plane rung out overhead. ------- Chapter 6 Kayla staggered to the washroom with some assistance then back to her cot again. While in the washroom she contemplated her situation. She was in a bad spot. No supplies, no transportation, and a largish hole in her leg. She could barely hobble with assistance; she was unlikely to make it far without assistance. Her best hope was to get on one of the planes the boss man was signaling and get the hell out of Dodge, with our without the women around her. Her conscious wouldn't allow her to leave them but they were a burden either way. "Bitches!" The boss man's voice seemed to indicate the three of them, "either you hide yourselves or make yourselves presentable, we've got company coming." He eyed Kayla and the blood seeping through her pant leg. He grimaced, "Hide her." Turning, he left the room. The ditzy twins gave her one look and started hauling her to a back room in the hangar. "Wait! Stop!" Kayla tried to tell them in a whisper. "If you let me talk to them I can get us out of here." They looked at her with pity and shoved her into a small closet. Kayla heard the lock snick shut as she heard a jet engine whine followed by the roar of a prop plane. She felt around for the walls of the room. It was a bare closet, no deeper than a few feet. Fear drove Kayla's heart rate higher as she heard the engines shutting down. They'd talk, the pilots and the boss man, then leave without her if she didn't breakout. Kayla grimaced, knowing what was to come, and threw herself at the door. Pain lanced from thigh to shoulder, an electric current through her body as she hit the door. She felt it give slightly. Heartened, but with tear streaming silently down her face she braced herself against the back wall again. Throwing herself violently forward, she was able to force the flimsy door off its hinges but felt the barely healed wound open. She felt a warm trickle of blood run down her leg as she staggered forward. With a brief glance at her surroundings she saw that the ditz twins, assured that she was locked up tight, had left her alone in the cavernous hangar. She staggered towards the hangar's opening. Her plan was to interrupt whatever meeting was going on, declare herself a prisoner, trapped against her will, and catch a ride with the crew of whatever jet was there. She only hoped that they were friendlier than her current situation. Kayla crashed into the small door at the side of the hangar opening it a crack. She saw a large-ish cargo plane, probably a C-130, next to a small pointy nosed jet. She glanced around for the pilots, hoping for a direction to stagger in once she opened the door fully. Kayla knew that once she was in the open she had better make it to them on the first try or not at all. Spotting a small group of men in green flightsuits next to the boss man she made her decision. Her choice was to face him and hope they took her with them or not at all. Make or break time. There were a scant two hundred feet between her hangar door and the men but, with an injured leg, it looked like a mile. Kayla took a deep breath and looked more closely at the military men. They looked like they were in deep consultation with the boss man. No humor reached the men's eyes and Kayla had doubts. Was she leaping out of the fat into the fire? Taking another deep breath she pushed her hand onto her wound to stem the flow of blood down her leg. No. Her father always spoke warmly of the military men he met. He spoke to their pride, courage, and professionalism. No matter what, they had to be better than a sick, twisted man who cared nothing for an injured young woman. With another deep breath, Kayla pushed the door all the way open and started towards the men. In her mind she ran fluidly to the group, unimpeded. In reality, she limped awkwardly forward, groaning in pain with every step. Before she could get more than fifty feet another group of men intercepted her. Seeing her escape route fleeing before her eyes Kayla started screaming at the top of her lungs. "Help me! Please, help me!" She flailed in the men's grasp, trying to attract their attention but with no luck. "Shut up girl!" The men hissed. Kayla wriggled free of their grasp and hobbled forward only to be tackled to the ground. The commotion finally caught the attention of the taller of the two men. "What's this about, Dave?" He asked the boss man. He shot her a furtive glance, "My niece. I'm sorry, she's been mentally disturbed since the exchange." Both men nodded sagely, they'd seen it before. "No!" Kayla shrieked from underneath the pile of men. "I'm not his niece, I'm not his ANYTHING!" She shoved and kicked and flailed with every ounce of strength she could muster. The taller of the two men started towards her. "Lieutenant!" Dave, the boss man called to him sharply, "We aren't done here!" "Dave, my job is to find survivors and fuel. If the woman is in distress, it's my job to help her," he said coolly, looking down at the smaller man. His compatriot gave the two planes a quick glance. "She's not in distress, she's mentally unstable!" Dave insisted. Kayla squirmed, ignoring the almost blinding pain in her leg and screamed again. "He's not related to me! He's lying! He's trying to rape me!" The men trying to cover her shoved a hand over her mouth and she was silent. The tall lieutenant strode up to the tableau, wading into the pile and extracted Kayla. He drew her up off the tarmac to her feet where she collapsed at his boots, clutching them for dear life. "Please, I'm not disturbed. They caught me on the hill there," she pointed vaguely west, "shot me in the leg, and took me here." She indicated her leg where the blood was flowing freely, staining through her thick camouflage pants. She worked herself into a standing position, still looking up into his eyes, "Please, I'm not anything but a prisoner, don't believe them." "Bran?" The other pilot and Dave had joined them; eyeing Kayla's disheveled appearance speculatively. The lieutenant looked down at her and then to Dave. "Sir, she's my niece and very ill." He made a grab for her but Kayla limped to the other side the tall pilot. "Brandon!" The other pilot nodded to his C-130. "If we take all the cargo we don't have space." He was trying to give the taller pilot, Brandon, an out by insisting they couldn't take her and the "locals" could sort it out. They'd seen this before, local disputes, with the worst of the lot trying to forcibly board their planes. 'It's just a milk run, ' he thought, 'I just need to get the coal and go back.' The tall pilot gave Kayla a look, hoping to see deception in her eyes, but was met only with pure panic and terror. His shoulders sagged momentarily, and then he spoke, "No, she goes with us." "No space, Bran!" His partner told him, not wanting to drag village trash back to their base. "Fine, she rides with me," he eyed his partner then his jet. "I'm missing a WSO anyway, she can ride back seat." The boss man started to protests but Bran overruled it. "Shut up. Finish your deal and we're leaving." He turned Kayla with him only to see her stumble on her bad leg. Without a word he scooped her up, pulling her tight to his chest. Kayla choked back a sob of relief. "Wait," she whispered to him. He paused briefly then continued to his jet. "The other girls, they're here against their will too." "I'm sorry girl, I've fought for you, and I can't pick up anyone else." He let her gently to the ground. She stood, shaky, on her good leg and he indicated she had to climb up. "Sit there, I'll strap you in. Don't touch anything while we start engines or in flight. I'll tell you if we need to do anything different." Kayla nodded, her eyes drifting over to the ditz twins and the small woman as she climbed roughly into the jet. She'd tried, she told herself. She'd tried to help them but couldn't. As the jet's engines roared to life and the canopy closed she looked at them once more, only the small woman's eyes pleaded with her to save her. The ditz twins were either too stupid to know what kind of trouble they were in or too stupid to care. She shook her head sadly as the jet taxied out. "We takeoff first since we've got the missiles. We're here to protect the cargo," her pilot to her. Kayla just nodded, her eyes glued to the small woman until she was no longer visible. Kayla felt guilty, leaving the woman in that hell, but she'd done everything she could to get her out. From here, she was on her own. Kayla tightened the straps of her ejection seat then tugged her pants over the wound in her leg again. "Where are we heading?" "Offutt Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska. It's not much, but it's where everyone is congregating. If we're going to keep the idea of 'America' going, it'll be here." Kayla nodded silently. Her pilot tried to pull her into conversation as they waited for the C-130 to finish loading its cargo and depart. He pulled from here that she was ready to start college in the fall, despite her age, and figured out for himself that she was brilliant. "It's not the same now, you know that, right?" He asked her. Kayla gave a non-committal grunt. "There are no universities right now, no one to teach at them. They've started a school up at Offutt though, if you'd like that. It's part high school, part apprenticeship. You could find a specialty you liked and being training in it. Mostly, it's agriculture or infrastructure based. Water treatment, sewage-" "Yeah, I get it. The things we need to keep a group of people surviving." Kayla told him in a dull voice. The blood was no longer freely flowing down her leg but enough had flowed to make a small puddle in her boot. "Did you ever consider going into the military? Because that's who's running everything right now. There are a few civic leaders left, but the military had access to vaccines first, so there's more of us than you by a small margin. Which reminds me, where you vaccinated?" "No. My father," she stopped, choking up slightly. The pilot waited patiently for her to start again. "My father said we wouldn't need it. He didn't bother to get me vaccinated." "Hmm. Well, just to be safe, they'll probably quarantine you when you get to Offutt. Most of the people left are either vaccinated or one of the few with natural immunities, but just to be safe, we quarantine all new arrivals." Silence stretched on for a few minutes. "So, would you like to join the military side of things, or apprentice yourself? I can put your name in for training if you'd like." "I don't really know. I mean, I was going to be a mining engineer, but I don't know how useful I'd be." "Well, we've got enough mined coal to keep things running right now, but in a few years we'll need more engineers. There aren't too many people to train you in that, though." "What about being a pilot? Like you." "Indeed. I'm not sure how many instructor pilots we have these days. I heard rumors that we'd have to training new pilots eventually, mostly rumors, but there's no formal training planned right now. Maybe in a few years. There's still a war going on." "Still nuking each other?" "Well, yes and no. We can, but it's mostly stopped. Other than that, I couldn't really tell you." "Don't know or won't tell me." "Take your pick, kiddo, results the same." He felt bad for shutting her down. "Hey, why don't you give this a try, huh?" "What, fly this thing?" "Sure, it's not too hard." He quickly explained the basics to lift, thrust, and turning then let her maneuver them around the C-130. Kayla's face split into a wide grin, flying a jet like his ... pure heaven. Wind rushing over the wings, the jet rolling at the slightest touch. The mighty planes two engines roared with power as they raced across the sky. "Ok kid, my turn. One of us has to land, and it's not you." Kayla released the stick when he gave it a little tug. "This is what I want to do." Up front the pilot smiled. "Thought so. Like I said though, not a lot of instructors, still got a war on." He eased the plane onto Offutt's runway and they climbed out. "When you're old enough though, we'll find you a spot. Hell, I'll keep you name on record." He took down her name on a piece of spare paper and escorted her to the med clinic. In the frantic weeks that followed Kayla forgot his promise, his name, and everything but the feel of smooth air over wings. ------- Chapter 7 "Kayla, wake up!" Dr. Gray's voice whispered in Kayla's ear. She gave a small smile in her sleep and rolled over on her creaking cot. He'd call again, at least two more times before she'd answer. She just wanted to hear his voice. "Kayla!" The voice grew more insistent. "Kayla, you are the laziest girl in my care," Dr. Gray's voice changed into that of her Dorm Mother's. "Get out of bed now." Her Dorm Mother's voice carried little inflection. They'd come to an uneasy truce: Kayla didn't mouth off and her Dorm Mother didn't pop her in the mouth. Kayla groaned but sat up and pushed the thin blanket off. As with most mornings, her Dorm Mother was standing over her, hands balled into fists on her hips, scowling down at Kayla. "In six months, I've-" "-never had a charge so lazy, disrespectful, and insolent," Kayla finished for her. She hated her life here. "And in six months, I've never had adults who treat me like an adult. Seems to me, we're pretty even." Her Dorm Mother's face was slowly turning beet red, "You cheeky little twit! You are not an adult nor will you be for some time." Kayla was treading close to crossing the line of their silent truce. "Mind your tongue outside because, while I won't hit you for insubordination, there are plenty of people here, civvies or soldiers, here who will." Kayla made a face but rose from her bed. "Class starts in twenty minutes and it's not my fault if you don't get food." Despite the harsh criticism in the woman's voice she worried that the girl didn't eat enough. Kayla was barely fifteen and had the thin, gangly look of most teenagers in the camp. Her knees and elbows showed through her clothes and her pants didn't cover her bony ankles. Kayla snagged her clothes from the floor and scooted past her Dorm Mother to the bathroom. She was one of the last children into the showers and was able to wash and dress quickly. Minutes after being awoken, she reported to the mess, drew her breakfast ration, and bolted it down as she scurried out to the snowy training field. Offutt's main base had survived the initial nuclear attacks having been outside the area missile could reach, even coming over the North Pole. After the dust had settled, what was left of the American population had fled there. The base had been well stocked and a large portion of the military's leadership had ended up there, taking refuge in the base's underground facilities. Those surviving leaders had taken the people flooding the gates and formed them into a cohesive community. In only a matter of days, they had ferreted out those who had useful skills, farming them out, literally, to local farms to begin agricultural production. Those with skills that could keep the base's infrastructure running were shipped out to various positions around the Omaha area to keep the lights on and the water flowing. Those who were left were given the task of erecting mass shelters, field kitchens, and a small field hospital. The few surviving civic leaders joined the military leaders, which helped to ease the inevitable friction between civilian and military parts. Those civilians who survived to arrive at Offutt soon learn to respect the dedication and professionalism of the military members residing there. They whined and griped about conditions until it was pointed out that most of the military personnel were living in worse conditions. As the dust settled from the nuclear exchanges and the US and Russia worked out their treaties the small group worked to give the community purpose and direction. Kayla grumbled under her breath about having classes outside in the snow but she cut it off as she approached the group. She knew better than to complain aloud. First, it didn't do any good, and second it as likely to get her some boring, smelly duty as punishment from her strict teachers. Compared to most of her teachers, her Dorm Mother looked like a pussycat. "Form up, class!" Kayla's teacher, a tall man in grey fatigues yelled. His fatigue bore no rank, meaning he was only a civilian, but Kayla darted into place all the same. There was no point in arguing with him this early in the day. After taking accountability for the class, he broke them into groups. "Fourteens and fifteens, you're on hand to hand combat drills with me. Tens to thirteens, you're leading the nine and unders in conditioning until midmorning break." With a minimum of grumbling about snowy and cold, the class split into smaller groups. "And good news today, we have a small class room this afternoon." The class cheered, classrooms meant warmth. "Fourteens and fifteens you'll be working with your jobs journeymen. Tens to thirteens, you'll be tutoring the little kids in arithmetic and reading." Kayla moved with her group to start hand-to-hand drills, avoiding eye contact with anyone as she tried to find her Joey, her usual training partner. He was a jerk, but he was the best of a bad lot. They all seemed nice enough on the outside but Kayla knew they were all wolves in teenager costumes. She could find some peace in her classes and apprenticeship time, but once back in the children's dorms, compulsory for anyone under sixteen and anyone under eighteen without a job, the minefield of teenage angst started. Kayla, like every other child, had been given an assessment of her physical and mental skills once she'd come out of quarantine. She had scraped a passable level in her physical skills, being a strong runner, and had excelled in her mental aptitude tests. However, the base had little need for smarty-pants teenagers with no work experience. Kayla had been lumped into the base defense group along with the majority of her teen and pre-teen peers. This meant long days working out in hand-to-hand combat skills, physical conditioning, and shooting practice. Kayla knew it meant that should the Russians attack again, something most adults assumed was highly likely despite the peace treaty, she would be on the front line of defense. She tried to avoid thinking about the dismay her father would feel seeing her used as nothing more than cannon fodder in the making. "Hey little Einstein," Joey mocked her. Joey was a seventeen year old on his last few weeks of apprenticeship before his eighteenth birthday. Taller that Kayla but gangly, they had been paired up for sparring so often that they just accepted it and chose each other every day. Kayla rolled her eyes; it wasn't worth even acknowledging how much she hated the nickname. "Aww, why so moody? That time of the month?" Kayla blushed and looked away. "No." "Ha. Well, I do have good news for my fav-o-rite brainiac." When he paused, Kayla wound her finger in a circle indicating he should spit it out. "Come on, guess. I wanna see if I can stump the genius." Kayla squared her stance, shifted slightly at the hips, and swung her fist at him full force. Her dainty fist caught the side of his face, snapping his head to the side. "Good hit, Kayla!" Her instructor called, "Next time, Joey, block!" "Fine, bitch, if that's the way it's going to go, have it your way." Joey lunged at her, hoping to get her in a grapple. Kayla lacked the upper body strength of her partner and loathed going to the ground for a grapple. She shifted her weight to her back foot, hooked her front foot around his knee, and with a practiced motion toppled him to the ground. He went down swearing and landed with a dull thud in the snow. "I'm not playing guessing games, Joey. Tell me or don't. Either way, I don't care." Joey stood up and rubbed his butt, giving her a hateful glare. "Blah, blah, blah. You don't care, but you check the notice boards ever day?" "Stalking me?" Kayla asked, eyebrow quirked. They squared up again, Kayla shifting her weight to her back foot again. "Whatever. I don't screw skinny bitches, so don't get your twat in a lather." He kicked viciously at her ribs. They both knew that their caustic banter was only that, banter to keep the day going. "Must you use such foul language?" Kayla dodged and tried to hook her foot behind his knee again. Wise to the attack Joey dodged left. Kayla stepped in, landing a solid push to his solar plexus. "Must you always be so fucking formal?" He asked, mocking her. Kayla gave him half a grin as she dodged a kick aimed at her head. Joey lunged in, trying for the grapple again. Kayla danced back and gave him a quick smile. "Notice the extra birds on the ramps?" Kayla nodded, "Who could miss them? They wake me up every morning." "Well, rumor is," he swung at her in a playful jab, "they don't have enough pilots for all the birds." Kayla ducked and aimed a sidekick at his chest. "Pfft, lies. We got two more pilots back at the end of September." "The Crew?" He said the words with a breath of reverence, out of place with the mocking tone he'd been using. "Ha ha, funny. That's a good one. Sure, two pilots, two navigators, and an EWO but General Feldman won't let them fly again. They saved the world," he said, back in a mocking tone, "war heroes don't get to fly. Too valuable at making everyone feel proud to be an American." He kicked at her shins making her dance back a step. "So what, then?" Kayla said answering his kick with a kick of her own. She tried kept trying to push him into kicking range, where she was most effective as he pressed to get her in a grapple, hoping to take her to the snow covered ground where he knew he could pin her easily. "So, they need more pilots than they have and..." he drew the word out as he stepped in again. Kayla aimed a vicious kick to his groin when he paused but Joey was ready for it. He stepped in, grabbed her wrist, and swung her arm behind her. Sweeping a leg behind hers, he pushed her over it and down to the ground. Kayla tried to roll away but the sweep had been effective and she found herself pinned at the shoulders. "You know Kay," Joey whispered in her ear as she lay on the ground, "I kind like you like this. I mean skinny ankles notwithstanding. Me, on top of you. You, helpless to me-" Kayla swung a leg up to knee him in the ribs and the breath went out of him in a whoosh. "Get off of me, you ass." Joey rolled off her, grasping his ribs. "Bitch," he said casually. "Anyway, they're opening an air academy." Kayla quirked an eyebrow again in question. "Staring early next year I hear, they'll take qualified personnel and make 'em into pilots." He squared his stance again, "Figured you'd want to know since you wanna be one so bad!" Kayla jabbed at him lightly as she considered it. She barely remembered her flight to Offutt but it had made an impression on her. She loved the feel of the jet, its roaring engines, wind slipping like silk over the wings. "How old?" "Ha! You are a genius, you got it in one. Sixteen. And only with the most stalwart of recommendations. Sorry, princess, not old enough and you piss off you DeeEmm too much. You have to spend a whole year waiting just to go. And if that weren't bad enough, you have to kiss ass to your Mother to get her to recommend you under legal age." He gave her a cold smile. In a fit of pique, Kayla kicked him as hard as she could in the face. Blood blossomed from him nose and sprayed onto the snow. Kayla and Joey both stared in horror at the crimson stain across the snow. "Fuck me, bitch!" Joey's voice cut across the general melee of hand-to-hand class, bringing the attention of their instructor. "This sure as shit won't get you in. You broke my goddamn nose!" Joey yelled at the top of his voice. AS soon as he was sure the instructor was making his way across the field to them he dropped his volume. "If you get in ... which, face it, you might not. Rumor has it that they get different accommodations, living in pilot's dorms near the runway." They both glanced at the newly erected dorms across the tarmac. Rumor said that the pilots had private rooms, hot running water, and heat as well as power after 2100. "So, try, try again little girl. Maybe one day you'll get to fly one of those things and you can leave me here to grapple with some other feisty little filly." He waggled his eyebrows and gave her a leer. Their instructor arrived to tell Kayla off for not having more control over her kicks and to hustle Joey off to the infirmary. "Pig," Kayla said to no one in particular as Joey was carted off. ------- Chapter 8 Three weeks later, when the Air Academy's newly formed admissions board met, Kayla's name did not make the list. Twenty-nine young men and two women's names made the list. Each person was selected based not just on intellect and physical skill but also enthusiasm, drive, and maturity. Despite the age limit being lowered to only sixteen, no candidate selected was younger than twenty. Kayla spotted the list as soon as she left her room. She was up before her Dorm Mother could wake her, trying to make a better impression on the woman so she wouldn't renege on her promise to write a good recommendation. Kayla spotted the new list on the board because it was printed on fresh paper, snowy white against the other, older papers there. She took a deep breath in through her nose and walk to the board with measured steps, afraid to look, afraid to see her name wasn't on the list. Her Dorm Mother lingered in the doorway of her office, watching Kayla approach. She was astounded by the girls turn around in the last few weeks and was afraid this set back would bring back Kayla's old, stubborn, and insubordinate behavior. She pulled a letter from her pocket and quietly followed the girl. Watching closely, the Dorm Mother almost missed the long blink, the brief expression of grief and failure before an impassive mask settled over Kayla's face as she saw the list and realized her name wasn't on the list. Kayla squared her shoulders and turned resolutely towards the mess hall. "Kayla, wait," her Dorm Mother's voice was filled with concern, "please." Kayla turned to around, face still expressionless but the Dorm Mother could see the tightening at the corners of her mouth, the slightly narrowed eyes "I did as I said I would, I recommended you." Kayla's facial expression barely changed but the Dorm Mother could see doubt. "I know. You didn't get in." Kayla turned to go but her Dorm Mother put a hand on her shoulder. "You're too young and that is all." She fished the letter out of her pocket and handed it to Kayla. Kayla's eyes skated over the paper taking in its meaning. "Next year?" "Yes," her Dorm Mother said and smiled. "I wasn't the only one to recommend you and your test score speak for themselves. You didn't make it because you aren't old enough; however, next year you are guaranteed a spot. If," her voice flooded with concern, "you keep your nose clean, keep up with your training, and don't injure anymore classmates." Kayla's face filled with hope. "Next January? I can wait fourteen months!" Her Dorm Mother's face filled with pride and she stepped in and hugged the skinny girl close to her chest. Kayla stood impassive for once brief second then pushed away. Her Dorm Mother knew at once that she'd pushed too hard, emotionally. She released Kayla and watched the expressionless mask fall over the girls face again. "Go her your breakfast, girl, or you'll be late for training." She said briskly, letting her walk off. The woman turned on her heel and walked briskly back into her office. She picked up her comm relay, punching a number by memory. "Bran?" "Yes?" The voice on the other end responded, sounding annoyed. "She knows. She'll be frustrated, but ready. Are you sure you can hold your end of the bargain?" "Of course I can. I've told you as much already. I delivered my recommendation in person to be sure the academy saw it." She tapper her fingers rapidly on her small desk. "She'll never forgive me and I'll have lost all my credibility if this doesn't go through." "I know. I'll lose my credibility as an instructor if she gets in and fails. And who do you think she'll hate more then?" There was a pause. "I know, she doesn't like me now, but if this fails I'll be stuck with an angsty teenage girl who actively hates me for another two years." "Well, you get off easy. I mean, how hard is it to deal with one teenage girl?" The voice on the other end grumbled. "Ha! Easy for you to say, you don't have to deal with the drama. And yes, it's drama every day. It'd be worse if there were more girls alive but, well, the last round of infection hit us ladies hardest so there aren't enough around to really bring the drama." "Only one? I thought we had more than that?" "Well yes and no. There were five in my care six months ago. Two have gone off and officially bonded to men they've met. For god sake one's preggo already!" "Don't fuss, Marylyn. One, they're married, and two, its only one of a very small few of pregnancies." "Anyway," she said in a huff, "the other two were listed under my charge but died in quarantine before they could come move in. So, right now, it's just Kayla. Now, in a month, I'll have two move up from the preteen group. But, two years is a big gap when you've seen as much as she has. They won't get along, I'd guess." "Well, that on is your problem, not mine. Keep her safe and sane until she gets to me, that's all I can ask." "Easy for you to say. A year of being stuck in an endless cycle of training. The sadness of being left out of this class and the frustration of monotony alone might make her go bat shit." "Again, your problem, not mine. Deliver me a sound product next year." "Fuck you, you heartless bastard." She ended the comm relay before he could respond. "I only do it for her," he told the receiver. ------- Chapter 9 One year later Offutt had been transformed almost beyond recognition. The bases' multifamily dwellings had been expanded tenfold in preparation for a baby boom that never happened. The commissary, meant to feed the residents of the base now spilled into the defunct parking lot and served as both a greengrocer and a market for all imaginable products. Kayla was bargaining what meager goods she had for a bra when she noticed the new flier. She grimaced at the overtly feminine product but knew it was a necessity. Her Dorm Mother provided what she could but had few young women in her so couldn't justify keeping a decent stock of undergarments on hand. She'd gifted Kayla a small handful of batteries to bargain for the necessary clothes. Kayla was grateful, but still couldn't find it in her heart to be truly thankful to the woman. Too many years of bad blood over her own mother lingered in her mind. She spotted the sign at once. As with the year previous, the fresh, snowy white sheet stood out among the old and worn sheets on the board. Kayla finished her haggle with the vendor, grimacing as she handed over every battery in her hands, but smiling internally that she still had eight concealed about her person, and turned towards the board. She made eye contact with Joey, her escort, and nodded her head significantly to the board. His eyes narrowed, taking in the new list. Her heart raced just looking at the list. She didn't date hope that anyone in this place could keep a promise. Despite her initial dislike of her first Dorm Mother, she had some fondness for the woman. When she died in a sudden round of infection later that winter Kayla had been heartbroken. Not the loss a child would feel for a parent, but that her only link to the school, her only hopeful promise that she might leave the stinking mini-hell the children's dorm presented was dead. Her current Dorm Mother was only one in a stream of women who took badly to military life. Each one had been assigned as a Dorm Mother in hopes that caring for children would ease the loss of their own or at least play to their maternal instincts. Unfortunately, the endless parade had only left Kayla a cold, bitter version of her old self, just another child lost to the new regime's system. "Come on little Einstein, do you really think you'll be on the list?" He asked condescendingly. Kayla scowled at him. "If it weren't for the fact that I couldn't go out without you, I'd kill you and leave your carcass in a dumpster," Kayla told him with practiced ease. Though she hated the restriction that prevented underage girls from leaving the dorms alone, many days she was glad to have Joey at her side when dealing with the vendors. The animosity of their first year together had faded to a tentative friendship. "Ha. You can take down half the people in this market by yourself you don't need me. The only reason you haven't murdered me outright is because you're waiting to declare your undying love for me." He gave her a charming smile, "please, don't worry about embarrassing yourself, I'm ready!" He threw his arms open as if to receive her adoration. Kayla stalked off to the boards without another word. She elbowed a small man out of the way, ignoring his yelp of protest, knowing Joey would subdue the man if it came to that and not caring if she injured him. In the last year, she'd shot up two inches and put on almost twenty pounds, mostly muscle, but some fat that added gentle curves to her previously boney figure. Kayla didn't know it, but her Dorm Mother, while she was alive, had stuck studiously to her word not to deliver a damaged product. She'd done everything in her power to ensure her charge had adequate food, water, and entertaining diversions in the following year and had left copious notes on her charge for her replacements to find and use or ignore as they saw fit. Kayla was blissfully unaware of the intercession. She accepted the food she was given, unaware that she received the first crop of food brought in from the aggies first harvest. She rarely noticed that others ate from preserved rations because she was often sent out in the small hunter/gather groups that ranged away from Offutt to find food when rations were tight. These trips served to sharpen her hunting instincts, already sharp from years of hunting with her father, and to give her the social interaction she needed. It wasn't ideal, but it got her mostly away from her training group. The only exception was that she remained with Joey. Her current Dorm Mother had fretted over the pairing but, a scant few weeks after the previous Dorm Mother's death Joey had paired off with Cody, another sixteen year old in the group. Joey, who had been set to run through every woman on base left in record time, had settled down nicely and hadn't shown any interest in women since. She felt comfortable enough with Joey guarding her foster daughter but still worried every time they left. Kayla's eyes skimmed the new message, taking in the content. Her eyes widened and her pulse sped up. "Joey," she hissed. "Joey!" He skimmed the board, "Yeah, so," he said nonchalantly. "Joey, I'm in!" She tried to keep her voice down but her excitement leaked through. "As if you expected anything different! You knew that a year ago." "I was told a year ago. Different thing!" "Bitch, you're going to leave me all by my lonesome with Cody. What will I do having to deal with that man all day?" "The hell I am. I'm stealing him," she stabbed her finger at the paper, "he's in too." "The fuck?" Joey's yell startled those surrounding them. Those reading the announcement stared at her, then the list, which gave her age, then back at her. Slowly, it dawned on the group surrounding her that she was a candidate. Before she or Joey could stop it they were hugged and slapped, whirled around in a circle of enthusiastic people wishing them well and thanking them for their protection. Joey was finally able to disengage them, dragging Kayla into the street and towards her dorm. "That was fucking insane, Kay." "Why must you swear?" "Geez Kay, they treat you like you're a hero already. Don't those dumb bitches know it's been a fifty percent washout rate?" At that sobering fact, Kayla's smile faded. "Oh please, calm down. You're name's been on the list for a year, you'll be fine. Just think about the fact that you'll soon be living high on the hog. You only share your room with one person, hot water, and three squares a day. Ha ha, you'll be fat in no time. All that sitting on your ass and no working out!" Kayla frowned. "I doubt that, I've heard they still have to pull afternoon duties if they aren't flying." "Ha, I've heard they have butlers and valet's in their rooms." "Lies. Heresy." Kayla told him, but gave a small smile wondering what of the rumors she'd heard were true. ------- Chapter 10 'From what I've heard' may have been the most commonly stated phrase when anyone referred to the Air Academy. This statement usually preceded some wistful statement about how easy and wonderful life at the Air Academy was. Most of it was horse crap, Kayla decided about two hours into her first day. They'd been welcomed by the commandant of cadets, welcomed by the instructor cadre, shown their dorms, and then led to the supply building to draw their allotment of clothing and accoutrements as flying students. In that time she'd seen no evidence of unlimited food, chairs with pillowed seats, butlers, unlimited laundering services from the dregs of society, or flocks of women throwing themselves at the feet of the young men in her class. Kayla considered her classmates, the twenty-eight young men fortunate and skilled enough to be chosen along with her and the one other young woman in her class. As with the previous class, most of them ranged in age from twenty-three to twenty nine with only one, Joey's boyfriend Cody, younger than twenty. Except for Cody, most of them had cast an admiring look over Kayla and Alana, the other young woman. Most of the looks Kayla missed due to her naivety but Alana, her new roommate, caught most of them. She smiled back at a few, knowing that austerity may have squashed some things, but hope springs eternal. As Kayla and Alana hauled the many pounds of gear they now had back to their room their classmates kept them within the confines of the group. Kayla gave Alana a look, hoping the other woman would slow her pace so they could converse without the crowd of men surrounding them, but the group paced them. Alana gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. When they reached the women's dorms, a smaller annex to the men's dorms, the class leader told them to be back in the classroom by noon. Kayla and Alana nodded and hurried of the stairs to their room. "Seriously? They can't let us be for a second can they?" Alana asked as they lugged their bags up the stairs. "Whatever, my Dorm Mother hasn't let me out of her sight without Joey a step behind for the last year!" Kayla told her. "Really? That's rough." Alana heaved her bag inside the door to their room, once again admiring the large space. "I've been out of the kid's dorms about seven months now and I don't miss it!" "Nice. It wasn't horrible but I'm not used to so many people ordering me around. And the roughest part: cold showers every day and never enough food. One rumor I had hoped would be true: hot water and more food." "You could use it too, bean pole!" Alana told her. Kayla paused for a moment and stared at her in shock until she realized that Alana hadn't meant the comment to be harmful. "What, you're thin as a rail; didn't you get the extra ration?" Alana asked. "What extra ration?" Kayla wiped the sweaty hair off her brow and stared at Alana. "Oh man, seriously?" Alana stared at her in shock. "All the girls are supposed to get an extra cup of rice each week to keep our baby makin' bits up to speed." She huffed as they up turned their bags in the corner of the room. She stopped. "You really didn't get it?" Kayla shook her head. "Man, bummer. Well, hopefully you get better fed here." Kayla's mind raced furiously, wondering which of her myriad of Dorm Mothers had made the order for her to miss her allotment and how many had followed it blindly, not knowing any better. Her mind raced around the possibility that one of them might have simply been hoping she'd die of starvation. "Fucking foster care," Kayla muttered. "No wonder kids in the system were always so mean." "At home?" The word 'home' caused Kayla to feel like her stomach had dropped out and the blank mask that had been her shield for almost two years slid across her face. Just the thought of being home, with her father made her ache with longing. Hell, at that point she'd even take being home with her frigid bitch of a mother. Kayla looked at Alana, face devoid of emotion and nodded. Alana patted her shoulder somewhat awkwardly. "Sorry, didn't mean to spook you," she pointed at the door in front of them. "Well, looks like we've got some times before class. You want the first shower; see if it lives up to the hype?" Kayla nodded again and quietly grabbed her toiletries. Alana stared after her, wondering what she said that affected Kayla so much. She'd gone from somewhat chatty to silent and cold in the space of a heartbeat. She shook her head as she started sorting her belongings. Alana knew that some of the kids had had harder times adapting than others. Alana was thankful every day to be where she was. Not just to have been fortunate to be at the Academy but to be away from her family. Some people had been torn from kind, loving families, as she suspected Kayla had been but Alana's situation had improved since coming to Offutt. Before her mind could delve too deeply into the past, she heard a shout from the bathroom. "Hot water! We have hot water!" Kayla shouted triumphantly. Alana scurried to their bathroom to see Kayla batting her hands through the spray, splashing water all over the floor. Her face was transformed, the cold blank mask was gone, and look of childlike glee covered it. Alana was struck by just how young her new roommate was. At twenty-two, Alana was one of the younger members of the class, but she was older than Kayla by six years. Alana smiled and ruffled Kayla's hair. "Hit the shower, girl. I still want one before we head back." Kayla smiled and nodded as Alana closed the door behind her. "Well, at least some of the rumors are true," Kayla remarked as they walked back to their classroom. Alana nodded but her attention was absorbed by the man in front of them. He stood taller than Kayla's 5'10" with thinning blonde hair and blue eyes in a handsome face. She gave him a winning smile as Kayla went on, "Hot water and, at least for me, more food." The man's mouth twitched as if he were trying to cover a smile. "And, one day soon we'll be rocketing across the sky in an F-15 chasing down Russians," Alana told her. Alana's claim seemed to die on the vine only minutes into their first class. The handsome man Alana had smiled at outside turned out to be their first instructor and he seemed to mock her words. "Welcome to your aviation indoctrination class, I'm Lieutenant Welsh, formerly of the US Navy. I flew F-18s during Operation Iraqi Freedom and since WWIII; I've been keeping my Air Force counter parts on their toes and teaching how to really fly a fighter. As the commandant mentioned earlier, you will see officers of all ranks and most services here so start learning the ranks of each service. For those of you who are confused, a naval aviator bearing the rank of lieutenant is the same grade as an Air Force or Army Captain. It also means that I far outrank a cadet, which each of you is, as of today. Once you graduate, we'll put a real rank on you," his voice carried a hint of scorn. Kayla glanced at Alana so see a small smirk of defiance on her lips. "This is the first of many classes you will receive here. Now, the commandant was gracious enough to welcome you to our school. He reminded you that you were chosen, selected to attend this magnificent palace of aviation. I, however, am here to give you the bad news: you dumb fucks won't so much as touch the wing tip of one of these planes without passing your academics first." Kayla watched Alana's face smile drain from her face. "Why? You're asking yourself." He looked around the room taking in the dark looks from the class. "When I went through training at Pensacola, we had trainers. Yes, we also go this speech and 4 weeks of aviation indoc, but we had trainers, T-6s. Cheap, disposable planes that we could waste if some idiot snuck through aviation indoc without a strong grasp of how to fly a plane. "Here, there are no T-6s. There are no trainers. No Mooney, no Cessna. Nothing. The first time you get in an airplane, it will be the real deal and we can't afford to lose a single one. Our maintainers, bless them, work twelve hour shifts, six days a week to fix the few planes we pulled out of Davis-Monthan. Those planes had been sitting mothballed for years and it takes a lot of work to make them flyable again so we don't risk them to idiots. Expect that what took me four weeks will take you almost six months." He paused again then found Alana's eyes. "And for those of you who think it's all about going toe to toe with the Ruskis here's a news flash: they won't be here for a few years at least." Alana flushed a deep scarlet. "They tipped their hand during WWIII, there's nothing left. They may, in a few years, be a threat, but for now our best intelligence puts them several years from being able to stage any kind of transcontinental attack." Alana shot Kayla a look as the Lieutenant went on, "So study hard cadets, you're chance will come. Give it about eighteen months and you too will get to do the Walk." Kayla looked around, trying to see if anyone else knew what he meant. Everyone she made eye contact with gave her a shrug. "What's the Walk?" Lieutenant Welsh smiled, "The Walk is the long walk back from your last flight. Your last flight you either pass and get your wings, or you fail and are sent back to whatever hole we pulled you out of. It's the long walk from your plane back to this building, where you don't know if you've passed or failed until your classmates are throwing buckets of water on you in victory. You spend the entire walk remembering every triumph and every failure, of which there' will be many of both. You walk two hundred yards and find yourself. And at the end of it, your instructor tears your student nametag off and puts your officer's wings on you. That's the Walk. Now, as we are so very far away from that, let's get into our lesson." At the end of a grueling day of lecture, Kayla and Alana dragged themselves back to their room to study. The first test was the next day and anyone who failed was dismissed. Kayla thought furiously through the lecture until a thought brought her up short. "Alana, you ok?" "Huh?" "Well, I mean, that first lecture was pretty pointed." For the first time in months, a look of concern crossed her face. "Ha, that? Hell, I'll either kill him of fuck him. Either way, works for me," Alana smiled and Kayla stared after her in shock. ------- Chapter 11 A few months later Kayla was still slogging through her studies. Her focus on the task at hand left her blissfully unaware of the happenings of the base. While she focused on aerodynamics, the base grew around her. The base, a comfortable by Air Force standards, replete with a golf course, fitness facility, and large Base Exchange, had left something to be desired when the pandemic and subsequent war had broken out. Its two virtues had been its location and the fact that USSTRACTCOM was housed there. Being at the center of the continent made it difficult to strike by ICBM and nearly impossible to strike by Bear bomber. Shortly after people began finding refuge in the base and USSTRATCOM commander, General "Plunge" Feldman, now retired, had organized the populace and secured his base using every person available. At first, they could do no more than throw untrained citizens to the walls of the base in hopes of halting a ground attack. Kayla had first seen the base with a minimal chain-link fence manned twenty-four hours a day. Now, the base was encircled by fortified walls broken only by heavily armed bunkers at even intervals. Kayla's student life sailed smoothly along as things like fortifications were the subject of much contention. "Colonel Hansen, you have twenty three personnel that could be used to ease the manning issue," President Feldman's gruff voice carry across the table. His aide shuffled nervously behind him, a man who had been President Feldman's executive officer when they had been active duty. When General Feldman had retired, he had been immediately pushed to run for President and his exec had followed him into the civilian sector. He knew his boss and knew that this tone of voice was a warning sign of an impending blow out. "Mr. President, I have twenty two future aviators who I'm cranking through academics at the most rapid rate possible given the number of aircraft and instructors I have to work with," Colonel Hansen, ignoring the restless shifting around him, pressed back. President Feldman grunted, "Had to boot another one?" When Colonel Hansen nodded silently, he pressed on, "Look Bugger," Colonel Hansen winced at the use of his callsign, "you know the numbers. We have barely thirty thousand people on base and forty-seven posts to man, twenty-four seven. I've already authorized all kids sixteen and up to be pulled into duty but I'm coming up short if we're to keep other infrastructure going. All I'm asking is one day a week for each of them." "Plunge," Colonel Hansen answered in retaliation, "one day now, and three days later? Where do I draw a line? I'm already running them as hard as I can, I'm afraid I'll have to boot more if I have to up their committed time anymore." He ran his hand over his thinning hair, "You remember what it was like. You sleep, you eat, you study, and one day, maybe, you fly. I've already had to boot nine of them, how many are you willing to lose?" "Are they worth it?" "They're promising," he answered vaguely. "I need men, and women, I can trust. I need them to be loyal, smart, and able to hack it in the worst conditions." "They're better than the first class, if that's what you're asking." "Geez, you axed five in the final weeks!" "We're better at weeding out the malingerers now, the ones who are only in it for fame and glory," he said with a disdainful eye roll. "How many of them will be able to handle fighters?" Plunge ask, keen eyes narrowing. "Going for the throat today, huh Plunge?" When the President nodded he answered, "Of the twenty two left, I will most likely cut another two. Of those nineteen," he paused, thinking, "maybe five. Maybe." President Feldman sputtered, "Five? Five! What the hell, man? I can't sustain a fighting force, much less an Air Academy, if only five fighter graduate every year. I can't sustain an Air Force with nothing but heavy pilots! At this rate you're nothing more than a fucking self licking ice cream cone, only able to replace your own instructor core!" He scrubbed his face and tried to reel in his temper. "I have more jets arriving from Davis-Monthan in a couple of weeks and I want to be able to provide a ratio of three pilots for every two jets. And now," he took a steadying breath, "you tell me I'm only getting five new pilots?" "Yes," Colonel Hansen answered gravely, "fighters anyway." "You need to crank out more, this is unacceptable." "I heartily agree, but I can't push them through faster without training aircraft. Right now, they're soloing in their own plane. That takes hundreds of hours of classroom time if I can't get a simulator or training jet. Get me a few T-6s and I can cut the training time by a third. Get me a fleet of ten and I can cut it to a third," he paused. "That's what you need for it to be sustainable, right?" The President nodded, "And quality aviators. I need them brave, I need-" "You want The Crew. You need aviators." He paused and enunciated the next words carefully, "You can't get both." "The hell I can! That crew was perfect, due in no small part to training!" Plunge raged. Colonel Hansen laughed out loud causing his neighbors to squirm nervously again. They rarely saw the Commandant and the President spar like this. But then, they rarely dealt with aviators, as the Commandant was and the President used to be. "The Crew, as we so reverently refer to them now, was by no means perfect. At times, they hated each other. Hated, Plunge." Colonel Hansen's eyes bore into the President's with all the painful honesty he could muster. "They were good because they were the only game in town, they was no fail safe. I see them every week and hell, some days, Mounds and Cupcake still mix it up. But you are right, they were well trained," he conceded. "Make me another crew like that," Plunge was unrelenting. Finally, pushed to the brink, Colonel Hansen lost it, "Tub 72 is gone! Hell, Plunge, two years later, the burnt wreckage still adorns the far end of Edward's the runway! You have no more B-52s. What you need are fighter pilots and I'm working on it." He fixed the President with a hard stare. "As fast as I can with what little scraps of an Air Force are left." He took a deep breath and before Plunge could start again he pressed on. "You got to command an Air Force in a time when money was tight and there were no new, prestigious aircraft on the horizon. I'm running a school with the barest scraps left over when after we run twenty four seven combat patrols with four jets on strip alert. There is no money, there is no depot," he laughed almost manically, "what I would give for the problems you had!" President Feldman inhaled deeply. "Yes, Tub 72 is gone, no more B-52s." He pause, his mouth quirking briefly into a smile, then caught himself and went on, "Alright, I'll halt the F-15 rebuilds and focus them on T-6s." "Thank you." Colonel Hansen said, finally regaining some of his composure. "But I still need them in bunkers," he looked at Colonel Hansen. "One day a week Bugger, it's all I'm asking." "Fine, until I get my birds, then its full throttle through training." "Deal," Plunge established. He turned around to look at his aide. "Krebs, what's next on the agenda?" "Intel update and civilian issues, sir," his aide told him. President Feldman scrubbed his face, hand rasping over the five o'clock shadow he was sporting at noon. He nodded at his intelligence advisor, "Go." "No big changes, sir. Our best most conservative estimates put the Russians at fighting strength within the next five years; more liberal estimates put it closer to two years." "Not the drivel we sell to the base, huh?" The President gave his intel analyst a sardonic smile. "No sir, all is not quiet on the western front. Our best intelligence shows that they lack the infrastructure to fabricate parts for their ICBMs but they would be able to support a nuclear and conventional capable bomber fleet within the timeline." President Feldman turned to Colonel Hansen again and pointed a finger at him, "Three to two ratio, man," he stabbed the papers in front of him with one blunt finger, "In two years." Hansen nodded, "Get me the planes; I'll get you the pilots." The President nodded to his intelligence expert, "Thanks. What's next?" "Birthrate decline, Mr. President." "Decline? How about zero population growth? Hell, we've lost more people to illness and accident in the last year and a half than we've had births," He shook his head. "What's the next proposal? We've already outlawed abortions and contraceptives." "There are a few proposals, Mr. President, but they are drastic. Our experts suggest letting the most recent proposals go for a bit before we implement more, see how they do." "Mr. Krebs, what's the next on the list?" "Lowering the age of consent to sixteen and doing the same for legal age to marry." "Done." "Sir?" "Hell, I remember being sixteen, 'age of consent' means shit when you're ready to tango." "Right, sir." He nodded to their chief lawyer, indicating the man could get to work publishing the new change. "What are the other ideas?" "Sir, they're a bit more ... extreme." "Very well, we'll table them for now. Everyone, thanks, you're dismissed." ------- Chapter 12 "Joey?" Kayla's voice called across the open field. "Joey!" She called out louder as she walked towards the bunkers at the far side of the field. Announcing your arrival to a bunker had become standard ops after a few unfortunate accidents by some tightly wound individuals. Kayla squinted at the figure emerging from the back of the bunker and saw Joey's grinning face. He set his gun against the door and bounded the last few feet to her. "Hey there little Einstein!" He said as he smashed her against him in a hug. "You come to relieve me?" "You bet," she told him once he released her. Her stomach gave a little flip-flop as she looked up into his smiling face but she ruthlessly squashed the feeling. "My bunker buddies a few minutes behind but you can clear off yours if you wanna have a chit chat." He nodded as they turned and started strolling to the bunker. "Hey Marc, you can head out if you want. Kay and I are gonna chat while we wait for her partner," Joey told the other man when they got inside. Marc gave Kay an approving look. "Want me to tell Cody you'll be late again?" He said with a hint of a smile. "What? No." He gave Marc a placating look, "I'm just gonna chat with my lil sis then I'll be home." "Oh, cool. See you later," he said. Marc picked up his rifle, gave Kayla one last look, and left shaking his head slightly. "So, how's training?" Joey, not missing a thing in Marc's behavior. "Good," Kayla answered suspiciously. "Something you wanna tell me about?" "Nope." "M'kay..." she said, drawing him into silence. Joey cocked his head at her. "Come on, don't give me that!" Kayla looked at him steadily. "Look, you know I had a little bit of a," he pause, searching, "reputation, before Cody and I got together. Guys like Marcus would love nothing more than to believe that it's all a façade and that I'm still tom catting around." Joey blew out a noisy breath, "I think he just wants to think I'm nailing you so he can live vicariously through me." Kayla gave a halfhearted laugh. "Sure, playboy. And he couldn't possibly be hoping to nail you? Trust me, you're prettier!" She gave him a little self-deprecating smile. Frowning slightly, he turned to a safer subject, "So, really, how's school?" "Fine," she sighed and flopped against the bunker wall. "Don't you get all of this from Cody when he comes home?" "Well, yeah when he's home and not passed out." Joey gave her a sardonic grin. "You know how it is, study until you fall asleep then sleep until the panic wakes you up!" She nodded, "Supposedly, in exchange for all this fabulous time in the bunker they're going to bring in a few more trainers." "Well, that's good, right?" "Yeah, I guess. I mean, they were supposed to be here in a week, but the contract with the guys sent to DM got hosed, so it'll be next month now," she told him. Joey watched her face as she spoke, noting how she pursed her lips when she finished. "So, why do you look like you just bit into a lemon, little Einstein?" She glared at him for a good thirty seconds. "Oooh, scary. You know, you are super sexy when you do that. I love the way your eyes narrow in a way that says 'I hate you but secretly want to sex you!' Makes my little heart go pitter-patter!" Kayla's jaw dropped slightly before she realized he was mocking her. She shot him one last dirty look while ruthlessly squashing her emotions for a second time. "Well," she said with a hint of a sneer, "there are book smart aviators and there are stick monkeys. I'll give you one guess as to which I am and which type does best in the flight phase." "So, Cody says. But, honestly hon, you'll be fine." She gave him an incredulous look. "Seriously, they picked you for a reason." "Took their time about it," she muttered under her breath. "But they did pick you. And for good fucking reason too, Kay!" "I hope so." "I know so!" Kayla shot him another dirty look. Exasperated, he grabbed her by the shoulders, giving her a gentle shake. "Damn it, Kayla. You'll be fine. You'll finish and be top of your class. You'll get your precious fighter and go off gallivanting around, leaving us ground pounders behind." Kayla stared up at him with wide eyes. She'd never heard him speak so passionately, even about Cody. "Hey guys, sorry I'm late," a voice called through the entryway. Joey gave Kayla's arms one last squeeze then released her. "You'll be fine, stop worrying," his eyes burned into her. "Hey man, come on in, we've just been chit chatting and waiting for you" he called out. Kayla's bunker buddied strolled in just as Joey was gathering the last of his things. "I'm on the same shift tomorrow, you?" he asked Kayla. "Yeah," she said quietly, not looking at him. "See you then." The next day Kayla was paired with Alana. "Hey, don't leave without me, ok?" She asked her before class ended that day. "Yeah, no worries. I have to run a quick errand before we go but I'll walk with you." She smiled to herself. "Awesome, thanks." "What's up?" She asked, thrown by the obvious relief in Kayla's voice. "Nothing, just didn't want to walk out there by myself." Alana nodded. "So what do you have to do anyway?" "Nothing big." "Funny, you seem to have a lot of 'nothing big' lately." Kayla waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Aww, knock it off." Alana's eyes darted around the room. "Serously. I'll see you in a half hour or so." "M'kay, I'll be in our room studying." As soon as Alana strode off Cody sidled up to her. "Having a spat today?" "With her? Nah, she said she has errands." "No, with Joey." Shocked Kayla stared at him. "What, he said you had a little tiff yesterday." "No, thing like that. He just seems to have a higher opinion of my skills than I do." "Please, girl, everyone does," Cody said and waved a hand in the air. "Jeez Cody, I think you just out-gayed yourself," she said, trying to turn his attention off her. "Well, someone in this class has to be fabulous and since you aren't rising to the occasion I guess it has to be me." "Yeah, well, I think that's how it going to stay," she said and sighed "For fuck's sake, Kayla," Cody said, his affected flamingness suddenly dropped, "Joey's right, you are down on yourself." Kayla shot him a look. "Seriously, you're fine. Top grades and all." "And when we hit the flight line?" "Then it's sink or swim and you'll be fine then too." "And if I'm not?" "Then you've got other skills that will be useful. If nothing else, I'm sure you'll make a nice wife for someone who'll take care of you." "Wife? Gods, is that all I'd be good for?" "Jesus women!" He said in a fit, annoyed with having to buoy her self-esteem, "I'm stone cold queer and I'd fuck you so all else fails you can become the camp whore!" Kayla's jaw dropped. Hurt, she spun and ran from the room. An hour later when Alana found her in their room Kayla had recovered. Alana slipped in quietly but Kayla caught her. "Ready?" "Yeah." "Took you long enough. What did you walk to the other side of base or something?" "Or something," Alana brief considered telling Kayla where she'd been. "Fine, don't tell me," Kayla said, huffy. "What's up, Kayla?" "Nothing. No, not nothing. I fought with Cody. And yesterday, I think I fought with Joey." "Is that why you wanted to walk with me?" "Yeah." "Look kiddo, I like you. You're like my little sister but you gotta grow up a little. Make some more friends in the class. It can't be just me, Joey, and Cody all the time." "But you're all I have!" "You have everyone in the class, honey. Some of them would be very happy to be closer to you." "Jeez, not you too?" "What?" "Nothing. Sorry, something Cody said," she sighed. "Ready?" Alana looked at her, trying to comprehend how Kayla could be so smart and so mature one minute, then so immature another. "Kay, when's you're birthday?" "In a few months, September." "Nineteen right?" Kayla laughed, "No, seventeen," she said and grinned. "I think I get my own magazine then, right?" Alana smiled and chucked the idea of telling Kayla where she'd been all afternoon. "Cool, we'll throw you a party or something then." "That'd be nice. Something to look forward too." "Other than flying?" Alana asked, mischievously. "Ha, I'm looking forward to flying, I'm not looking forward to being graded while flying." "What is it you love so much about flying? You fly as a kid or something?" Alana watched the flow of emotions across Kayla's face at the mention of her childhood. "No, my Mom was always gone, flying off to some new place without us. I guess I didn't like flying as a kid because of that. I more think of it as an escape. It's how I got here, you know?" "No, you never told me before." Alana considered it odd, since most people exchanged their stories upon meeting. It was their generation's version of Pearl Harbor, the Kennedy assassination, and 9/11. "So ... how?" Kayla glanced at her watch, "We're gonna be late. I'll tell you while we walk." ------- To Be Continued... ------- Posted: 2012-02-19 Last Modified: 2012-10-04 / 09:45:07 pm ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------