“You can’t see them the way we came,” Hollis explained, lifting his voice over the racket, “but there’s a solar array on the south face of the mountain. That’s how Demo found the place.”
A hard bang as the doors closed, the echo ricocheting deep within. They were sealed away now, in safety.
“The stack won’t hold much of a charge anymore, but you can run straight off the panels for a few hours. There are some portable generators too. There’s a fuel depot just a short walk north of here. Gas, diesel, kerosene. If you bleed it off right it’s still usable. There’s more than we could ever use.”
Peter advanced into the room. Whoever had constructed this place, he thought, they had built it to last. The room reminded him of the library, only the books were crates, and the crates contained not words but weapons. The leftovers of the last, lost war, boxed and stored for the war to come.
He moved to the nearest shelf, where Alicia was standing with Amy. Since the incident at the buses, the girl had stayed close, never venturing more than a few meters away. Alicia had pulled the base of her sleeve over her wrist to wipe away a layer of dust from the side of one of the crates.
“What’s an RPG?” Peter asked.
“I have no idea,” Alicia said. She turned, smiling, to look at him. “But I think I want one.”
FORTY-FOUR
From the Journal of Sara Fisher (“The Book of Sara”)
Presented at the Third Global Conference on the North American Quarantine Period
Center for the Study of Human Cultures and Conflicts
University of New South Wales, Indo-Australian Republic
April 16-21, 1003 A.V.
[Excerpt begins.]
Day 4
So I guess I’ll just begin. Hello. My name is Sara Fisher, First Family. I am writing to you from an army bunker somewhere north of the town of Twentynine Palms, California. I am one of eight souls traveling from the San Jacinto Mountains to the town of Telluride, Colorado. It’s strange to say these things to a person I don’t even know, who may not even be alive when I’m writing this. But Peter says someone should keep a record of what happens to us. Maybe someday, he said, someone will want to know.
We have been at the bunker two days. All things considered it’s pretty comfortable, with electricity and plumbing and even a shower that works if you don’t mind cold water (I don’t). Not counting the barracks, the bunker has three main chambers: one that seems to contain mostly weapons (“the storeroom”), another with vehicles (“the garage”), and a third, smaller room with food and clothing and medical supplies (we don’t have a name for it yet, we just call it the third room). This was where I found the notebooks and the pencils. Hollis says there’s enough stuff here to outfit a small army, and I don’t doubt it.
Michael and Caleb are going to try to fix one of the Humvees, which is a kind of car. Peter thinks two of them should be able to carry the eight of us with supplies and enough extra fuel, though Michael says he doesn’t know if he can salvage more than one from the parts we have. Alicia is helping them, though from the looks of it she doesn’t do much more than hand them the tools they ask for. It’s nice to see her not bossing everyone around for a change.
All of this belonged to the Army, who are all dead now. I think I should say that. Also that the reason we are here is the girl, named Amy, who is a hundred years old, according to Michael. Though if you met her you might not know this. You’d think she was just a girl. There was something in her neck, a kind of radio, which told us she comes from Colorado, in a place called the CQZ. This is a long story, and I’m not quite sure how to tell it. She can’t talk, but we think there may be more people out there like her, because Michael heard them on the radio. And that is why we are going to Colorado.
Everybody here has a job to do, and mine is to help Hollis and Peter figure out what’s in the crates on the shelves. Peter says that as long as we’re waiting on the Humvee we might as well make use of the time, in case we need to come back here someday. Plus, we might find things we can use now, such as the walkie-talkies. Michael thinks he can make a couple of them work if there are any batteries that will still take a charge. Off the storeroom there’s a kind of alcove we call the office, full of desks and computers that don’t work anymore and shelves stacked with binders and manuals, and that was where we found the inventory lists, pages and pages of them, with everything from rifles and mortars to pairs of pants and bars of soap. (I hope we find the soap soon.) Each item is followed by a bunch of numbers and letters, which match the numbers and letters on the shelves, though not always. Sometimes you open a crate and think it will be blankets or batteries and what you’ve got is shovels or more guns. Amy is helping us, and though she still hasn’t said anything, today I realized she could read the lists as well as anyone. I don’t know why this surprised me, but it did.
Day 6
Michael and Caleb are still working on the Humvees. Michael says there’s two he can probably fix, but he’s still not sure. He says the problem is anything rubber-a lot of it is cracked and falling apart. But I have never seen Michael so happy, and everyone thinks he will figure it out.
Yesterday I took inventory of the medical supplies. A lot of it is no good, but there are some things I think I can use, real bandages and splints and even a blood pressure cuff. I took Maus’s pressure and it was 120/80 and I told her to remind me to take it every day and be sure to drink a lot of water. She said she would, but it makes her have to pee about every five minutes.
This morning Hollis took all of us out to the desert to show us how to shoot and throw a grenade. There’s so much ammo he said it was okay to use and everyone ought to know. So for a while we all shot off rifles at piles of rocks and threw grenades into the sand, and now my ears are ringing with the sound of it. Hollis thinks the area south of us is full of mines and says no one should go there. I think he was speaking mostly to Alicia because she’s been taking the horse to hunt in the early mornings before it gets too hot, though so far she hasn’t got anything except a couple of jacks, which we cooked last night. Peter found a deck of cards in the barracks and after dinner we all played go-to, even Amy, who won more hands than anyone, even though no one explained the rules to her. I guess she figured out just by watching.
Real leather boots! We’re all wearing them now except for Caleb, who still has his sneakers. They’re way too big but he says he doesn’t mind, he likes the way they look, and he thinks they’re lucky, since he hasn’t died since he put them on. Maybe we’ll find a crate of lucky sneakers?
Day 7
Still no progress on the Humvees. Everyone is beginning to worry we’ll have to walk out of here.
Apart from the boots, the best thing we’ve found so far are the light sticks. These are plastic tubes you snap over your knee and give them a hard shake and light comes out, a pale glowing green. Last night Caleb broke one open and put the glowing stuff all over his face and said, “Look at me, I’m a smoke now!” Peter said that wasn’t funny but I thought it was, and most of us laughed anyway. I’m glad Caleb is here.
Tomorrow I’m going to boil water and take a real bath, and give Amy a haircut while I’m at it, at least do something about those tangles. Maybe I can get her to take a bath, too.
Day 9
Michael said today they were going to try to start one of the Humvees so we all gathered around while they hooked it up to one of the generators, but when they tried to turn the engine over there was a loud bang and smoke and Michael said they’ll have to start from scratch. It was probably bad gas, he says, but I could tell he didn’t really know. To make matters worse, the toilets backed up in the barracks and Hollis said, How is it the United States Army can make food that lasts a hundred years but they can’t make a decent toilet?