A New World 10 - Storm (21 page)

The interior is like any other hotel lobby, a long desk that was home to receptionists when there were guests to receive. Chairs and sofas occupy one section and it’s there that we take our seats, everyone setting their firearms next to them.

“So, you have satellite access, eh?” Vince states, settling into one of the overstuffed chairs.

“Yes, that’s a recent addition. However, we won’t have them for too much longer. They’re down to the last of their fuel reserves. Speaking of fuel, it looks like you have at least one refinery partially operational. Is that correct?” I ask.

“Hmmm…well, why don’t we talk about that once we get to know each other better,” Vince responds.

“Fair enough. I’m curious. You seem to be living well here and don’t appear to have trouble going into buildings. I guess what I’m getting at, you don’t seem to have problems with night runners,” I say, and then explain what they are.

“We had some problems early on. It was tough getting enough supplies to survive, but I guess the cold got to them. Each night, there was less and less of the screaming. Of course, there weren’t that many hours of darkness, so maybe that had something to do with it. Eventually, there weren’t any left, but they took down too many of us before that happened,” Vince states. “So, now it’s my turn to be curious. I’d like to hear your story.”

I begin telling the gathered men our tale. I gloss over some of the details or we’d be sitting for days – although it would be nice to settle back in the comfy chairs, pour drinks, and tell stories, I don’t have that kind of time. I watch their expressions darken when I get around to the previous occupants of the bunker and the activities of that group. I relate our actions, including the information in the files that led us here.

“Currently, we have around four hundred people in our compound, which is almost equivalent to the total of all other groups of survivors that we’ve located,” I state, finishing.

“That’s quite the story and I’m shocked to hear that’s all that’s left. And, just so you know, your information isn’t entirely correct. We have nearly twelve hundred people here,” Vince comments. “We’ve had a lot of people show up recently from some of the other refineries and settlements up north.”

“How is it that you have so many?” Gonzalez asks.

“Well, I guess it depends on your perspective, and what you mean by ‘so many.’ At one time, there were nearly seventy thousand residents working the oil fields and refineries. We were on the bottom of the list for the vaccine, and the recall came before we administered it to everyone. However, that notice didn’t come soon enough,” Vince answers, his eyes going vacant as he folds into his memories.

“I’m sorry to hear that. It seems no one has escaped this evil,” I say.

Vince shakes his head, coming out of his momentary reverie. “You wanted to know about the refinery. Yes, we managed to get a part of it operational. We’re only producing enough to supply our needs…diesel, kerosene, and some automotive fuels. In addition, we’re processing some oil as we need it.”

“Do you have the capability to produce more?” I ask.

“We have the ability to ramp up if needed. There is an abundant supply of oil in the sands around and it’s just a matter of personnel. We have plenty of storage and can produce quite a bit over time,” he responds.

“What about jet fuel? I mean military fuel, not the Jet-A kind with its additives.”

“We don’t have that capability here. I believe the Scotsford refinery down at Fort Saskatchewan has a facility that can produce that type.”

I look at him blankly, having no idea where that is. Noticing my expression, he clarifies. “That’s about four hundred kilometers south of here…a little over two hundred miles.”

“How do you transport the fuel out of here?” I ask.

“We have several pipelines out. One goes to Vancouver, B.C., another heads down the Washington State coastline to California. There’s another that goes down into Texas and one additional one that heads east. Oh, and we have a pipeline that goes to the Scotsford refinery. From there, the fuel and oil is transported by rail or truck,” Vince replies.

“Do those pipelines transport the refined fuel or just straight oil?”

“All but the one to Scotsford carries crude oil. The one down south, there are actually several of them running in tandem, transports both crude and refined.”

“I won’t lie, a fuel supply like that would certainly help us out on the long run. How are you set up for supplies?” I ask.

“It’s difficult to keep so many fed. There are plenty of wells to draw from, so water isn’t a problem. We’ve pretty much cleaned out the canned goods from the stores, but the hunting is good. It takes a lot to feed this many and I don’t think the hunting will keep us fed indefinitely. As it is, we’re in the process of setting up several greenhouses that we’ll supplement with grow lights. At the moment, our resources are stretched thin with us refining fuel and storing it for the winter, chopping wood, hunting, and another thousand projects. With winter coming, we need to be prepared. The daylight hours will be short, the hunting not as great, and it will be bitterly cold. We have enough fuel already stored that we can keep the lights on and our houses warm. After that…” Vince shrugs.

“You know. Perhaps we can work something out that’s beneficial for both of us. How difficult would it be to pipe the fuels to, what did you say, the Scotsford plant?”

“Refinery, but it wouldn’t be that difficult to open the pipelines up. Each terminus is directed into storage tanks. Of course, that would require people at the facility itself and we honestly don’t have people to spare,” Vince replies. “Plus, we’d have to get the pumping stations up and running.”

“Well, that brings me to another point. The fifty soldiers with us, well, we were going to offer their services to you. If you’ll have them, that is?”

“Why wouldn’t you need them or want them with you?” Vince asks.

I tell him of our cramped situation and of dispersing other soldiers to those at Mountain Home, emphasizing their help in restoring peace to that community. I leave off my trust issues, as that’s, well, my issue.

“I appreciate the offer, and it would be a tremendous help. But I worry about incorporating fifty trained soldiers that I don’t know. We have a working community, and frankly, my concern is that they may try and take over,” Vince states. “We’ve achieved a semblance of balance that I wouldn’t want to see upset.”

“I completely understand your concerns. We only recently came into contact with them, but I’ve had the chance to work with a number of them without any problems. I’ll personally vouch for their conduct and we’ll maintain radio communication with you. You can deal with them how you like, and if you run into any problems, let us know and we’ll come up to help. I will mention, though, that our ability to fly will be hampered by the weather, and in the long term, by our fuel going bad,” I respond.

“Radio contact? How will we accomplish that? We have a few ham radios and portable radios that we keep in the trucks. Other than that, we don’t have much.”

“We’ll set up some equipment we brought that will allow satellite communication for as long as they stay in orbit. That will only be a couple of months at best, but it’s something. After that, we’ll have to rely on the ham radios,” I say.

“Well, perhaps we can work something out, then.”

“One question. Who is in charge here?”

“Well, we have a committee that we use, but I’ve been, well, I guess the best term would be the operations manager. So, although we make our plans and exigencies though the committee, I pretty much make any operational decisions,” Vince answers.

“Okay, back to our prior discussion, we could help out with your supply needs if that would free up some of your personnel to help with our fuel supplies,” I say.

“That sounds like a great trade in theory, but it’s much more than opening a few switches. Take, for instance, the transportation from the southern refinery to your location. That would be quite an undertaking, almost impossible, let alone getting power to the pumping stations.”

“That may be. But, I imagine if we can get the rail lines working, and someone who knows how to run the engines, we could manually set the rail switches to a specific destination. There we could offload the fuel into trucks of our own, and if we put box cars on the train, we’d load up food supplies for the trip back north,” I offer. “As for the pumping stations, would wind or solar work?”

Vince pauses and looks at the other men. Turning back, “We have several people around here that could operate the engines. It would be an endeavor to get the tracks right, but if we had the routes, we could manually set the tracks on the first trip. We wouldn’t be able to do that in winter though. It would strictly be a summertime thing. Each pumping stations has its own generator, but we could supplement that in the future. It would be a matter of keeping the tanks supplying the generators full. But, that’s a logistics problem I’m sure we can work out.”

“I can see the trip only being available during the warmer months. So, perhaps it would be an annual exchange of fuel for goods. I know some of the other compounds are surrounded by good farmland and cattle, and we have access to numerous distribution centers. Something like this could work, once we managed the logistics. And, in the meantime, we could ferry supplies to you before winter hits, as weather allows,” I comment.

“There’s a large train yard in Edmonton. Perhaps, if we take in the soldiers, they could drive down and retrieve a working map of the train routes.”

“That would be up to you, if you plan to take them.”

“I’ll have to put this forward to the committee, but I think they’ll approve. If we had adequate supplies, it would free up a lot of our personnel resources, which would be a great help,” Vince says.

“And, the soldiers we leave behind could train your people. There are marauders out there and the train would need to be guarded.”

“Agreed. I’ll be sure and mention that to them.”

“Well, if you want to meet with your people, I’ll return to the aircraft and talk it over with mine. I’ll return with the radio equipment as well. Where would you like it to be installed?”

Vince drives us to a high school that they’ve been using as a headquarters. We work out ham frequencies and a communication schedule. He contacts the members of his committee by radio and we drive back to the 130, letting Robert know that we are returning, and brief Montore on our conversation.

Back at the airfield, I contact base, informing Frank and Lynn of what transpired. Bannerman joins them and I tell him what may be in the works. It will take a lot of coordination, but he states that he’ll contact the other groups and see if they want in on the deal if the folks at Fort McMurray agree to the plan. He’ll also start hauling supplies out of the distribution center that we can load up and deliver when it becomes possible.

“The only question is: Where will we eventually be meeting to deliver and receive supplies?” Bannerman asks.

“We’ll have to discuss that when I return,” I answer. “It’s getting late in the day here, so we’ll meet with Vince, set up their radio, and leave in the morning.”

“Are you coming back this way?” Lynn asks.

“I thought we might pay those caves a visit,” I reply.

“Jack, if those soldiers remain with the folks up there, it will only leave you with two teams. And not a full two at that,” she says.

“We’ll just scout it out,” I respond.

There’s a long pause. Each second, I shrink farther into my seat anticipating her reply. “You better do that, and only that, Jack!”

“Okay.”

“Jack, I know what ‘okay’ means. I mean it!”

“Okay.”

“You’re hopeless. I’ll see you when you get back,” Lynn says, and signs off.

“That could have gone better,” Greg says from behind.

“It could also have gone a lot worse,” I comment.

Loading the Stryker up with the radio equipment, we head back to the school, where Montore and Red Team begin setting up the gear while I meet with Vince.

“Well, Jack, the committee agrees to the idea in general. We’ll take the soldiers with the stipulation that they take their orders from me. They won’t be allowed near a radio, at least initially. It’s not that I don’t trust you; it’s that some of the others, well, have some reservations. Some even commented that you are planting the soldiers here to take over,” Vince states.

“I understand. Arm them or use them as you will. They’re yours. Keep in mind that a lot of them are new to the situation, having been in a sheltered position. They have loved ones that they know nothing about. It will also take them some time getting used to the changes in conditions. Once we establish radio communications, you’ll get a list of names from other survivor camps. If you could do the same here and pass it along, perhaps we’ll be able to reunite a few families,” I say.

“Okay, we can do that. The other thing is that the committee won’t do anything until we receive the load of supplies you mentioned. It’s kind of a show of good faith. However, once it arrives, they’ve agreed to release about five hundred people to the Scotsford facility to aid in the transfer to rail cars, and possibly get part of the refinery operational. We’ll have to look over the area first to make sure there aren’t others around. Honestly, that’s way more than I expected them to agree to.”