After the Birds

Chapter Eleven

Remerton

NY, USA

2039

Andy

Miranda gathers her officers—and me—to brief us on Mission Hudskills, which is the name of their main operation in my area. We’re in a tent erected at the opposite end of the church ruin from her room and the infirmary. Sitting around a long fashioned with benches on each side, and a stool for her in at the head of it, turns it into a conference room. I’m straddling the bench where I sit at the far end of it from her. It suits me to make it clear that I’m the outsider—not one of them.

Miranda holds her morning meetings here and the last three mornings after the raid against the pharmacy storage, she’s been adamant about including me. I’m no fool. I realize that this is a way to try and assimilate me, and that won’t happen. Once I find Theo, I’ll bring him to the Hudskills, and he’ll never be at the beck and call for some damn farmer again.

"We'll cross at the same place as before. It's a good anchorage near the old industrial area in Remerton." Miranda points to a large map of the area that sits on a plywood board. "We know there are groups of civilians, whether they're friendly or not, on the other side. We've seen them patrolling the ridge across the highway. Several of the apartment buildings seem to be inhabited. What was once the center is as desolate as most other city centers that we’ve seen during our journey, but the dwellings and garages look relatively undamaged. The vegetation has been kept at bay to some extent along certain streets." Miranda points to a circle on the map. “This is location for the wind farm. As most of you have already seen on our reconnaissance missions, the main structure and the fields of turbines stretches about six hundred acres southwest of the highway.”

"Excuse me," I say, trying to muster the politeness my mother worked so hard to instill in me. I haven’t bothered much with politeness over the last decade. It’s not a commodity these days when your very existence is your main concern. "You don't need me to get to the wind turbines. It's so close to the highway that you can see it from the road."

Miranda gives me a calculating glance. "That's not the part of Mission Hudskills you're needed for. The mission is divided into three parts. The first is to get our engineers on site at the wind farm. The second is to gather information about the various civilian and militia factions that we know are present in the Hudskills. The third is to find the right place to start phase one of what we call the reconstruction phase."

I don't understand at first. "What is the regeneration phase?" I shift where I sit at the end of the long table. I was never good about sitting still for very long, as I was of the opinion that a moving target is harder to hit.

"I'll get to that." Miranda gives me a look as sharp as the small knife I keep in the shaft of my right boot. "As I said, team one in this first phase is heading south towards the main intersection where they will make their way to the wind farm. A force of twenty soldiers accompanies four engineers in a vehicle. Their task is to start it up and thus give us local power. I noticed the old residential area below the wind turbine when we were in downtown Remerton four days ago. It is half burned down, and the other half seems abandoned but that's nothing we can take for granted." Miranda sits down and passes around several stapled bundles of handwritten documents. "Here's the plan for part two of the first phase. We're going to go up via the burned down area, past the old school, and then continue into the Hudskills. This requires two vehicles. A truck for the soldiers and my Jeep. Andrea, you'll be riding with me as our guide since you say you know the area well. We need to find a place where we can eventually establish a community with access to nature and clean water."

I can hardly believe my ears. Am I going to have to have these people as neighbors up in the Hudskills when I've finally fulfilled my obligations? Sure, my cabin is half buried in the ground and is undetectable unless you know where it is, but still. I pat Zoya's ears to remain calm—and damn it, polite. "How did you decide on that place? You must have passed a hundred places on your way up from the south that are just as good."

"Not with a wind farm that's still vertical," says Dakota, sitting at Miranda's right. "We hope that by building a communication center near the wind farm, we can re-establish contact with other communities in the US, and the outside world via shortwave and other means. As it is, we've only had sporadic contact via battery- and hand-powered shortwave radios. With the power restored via the wind turbine, we can maintain communication and thus get a picture of how others are managing to survive. If there are other communities around the world, etcetera. As of now, we’ve only been able to speculate."

"Are you all crazy?" I stand up now. "Are you going to contact more people and say, 'feel free to come here, there's fresh water and space to build'? Then we'll soon have every warlord in this part of Sweden ready to take over."

"Warlord?" Miranda raises an eyebrow. "Is that what they call themselves?" She sounds amused and it pisses me off.

"It's obvious you haven't met them yet,” I snarl. “Sure, it's been a while since any of them raided, but they exist, and they control a lot of people—either as willing participants in their raids or coerced to comply. Plus, which should be obvious, they have no scruples whatsoever."

Miranda's amused expression changes to irritation. She turns to Dakota and a female soldier sitting to his right. "Why is this the first time I hear about any well-organized warlords?"

"There have been rumors, Colonel," the woman says. I see her name tag when she turns towards me and gives me a scornful glance. Johnson. "However, there has never been the slightest sign or evidence that anyone with such organized followers has plundered this region."

"That's bullshit!" I lash out at the haughty woman, this Johnson who also has a military rank according to the insignia on her collar.

"First you say you need me because I'm the one who has local knowledge and when I share what I know you dismiss what I say. It's obvious you can do all this perfectly well without me. I and Zoya will borrow a canoe and…"

"Sit down." Miranda's voice is low, and I've begun to understand that it can be a sign that she's furious. Sullen, I sit down and glare at Johnson. She raises her chin and then chooses to completely ignore me. I’m incensed.

Miranda continues, "Andrea, I want to hear more about these warlords and what you've observed over the years in this area. Captain Johnson, you of all people should know that things aren't always as they appear on the surface."
Jonsson pales several shades and then nods without a word.

"Well, to get back to the mission." Miranda's eyes were impenetrable and more gray than blue when she pointed down at the documents, we had all been given. "Here are maps, the plan for how we're going to proceed, and a list of what everyone needs to bring with them. Dakota drives the truck with the soldiers into the Hudskills. Captain Jonsson drives the truck with the soldiers and engineers to the wind farm. I'll take my Jeep with Andrea and her dog, and three soldiers. We'll leave tomorrow morning at 0600 hours. That’s all."

I sat there with one hand on Zoya's head until everyone had left the room except Miranda. She gathered her papers and placed them into her briefcase.

"Anything else on your mind?" she asks calmly.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. This plan, it's going to cost you."

"What do you mean?" Miranda blinks and then gives me a sharp look. "Cost me what?"

"Lives. To venture into unknown territory, without knowing anything about it—and doing it with vehicles that will alert anyone with a five-mile radius where you are. It’s insanity."

"We have you. Your knowledge of this area and potential dangers."

"That’s not exactly written in stone. If something happens to me then you have nothing. You’ll be left to guess and make assumptions." I try to speak clearly and with emphasis. "As it is, all it takes is one well-aimed arrow or spear, not to mention a bullet, for me to be out of the game. All you can do then is fall back. Follow our tracks back and return here. Here you have an opportunity to defend the small island you're on. You’d be safe here, who why leave at all?"

"You're worried." Miranda lets go of the briefcase and sits down next to me on the bench. She leans sideways against the table and rests her chin in her hand. "You're afraid that we'll fail by using you. That you'll make a mistake, and it will affect us. You don’t want that responsibility." Miranda extends her hand and places it on one of my fidgeting hands, stopping it from moving.

She's too perceptive. It's as if she's reading my thoughts. No, deeper than that, because I haven't admitted to myself yet how afraid I am of failing. If I make a serious misjudgment when it comes to myself, it's just mee who will suffer from it, and maybe in the long run, my dog too. But so many soldiers and civilians? I can’t be a part of this.

"You have a good thing here, Miranda," I say, and my voice somehow hurts when I speak. "You can defend yourselves here, scavenge for food and hunt. and other supplies. But going into the Hudskills is doomed to fail. There are more people out there than you think, and they know how to stay hidden."

"Like you." Miranda nods thoughtfully. "Andrea. This isn't a crazy idea we came up with over coffee this morning. We've planned this in great detail, with a multitude of different scenarios in mind. When we came across you, well, I admit that your courage and strength impressed me. When I realized how well you know the area, and especially The Hudskills, it was as if the last piece of puzzle for us to be successful.” She squeezes my hand and then lets go, and I find I miss the reassuring touch acutely. "You're exactly what we need for this to have the best possible chance of succeeding. We need to focus on building a new civilized world. There's no other way to survive. These past fifteen years of chaos and lawlessness can't continue if humanity is going to survive. We've managed to conduct research that shows very few babies are being born because women are living in such poor conditions that they're not menstruating due to stress, poor diet, or starvation."

"Good that we found Maya then," I murmur.

"You have no idea. Doctor Apple says she's closer to giving birth than she thought. The other children she brought with her also need the security of a society that looks out for their best interests."

"A society ruled by the military?" I curl my lip in a mocking smile. It provokes her. She gives me one of her darkening looks.

"With the support of the military until democratic elections are possible." Miranda straightens up and looks at me with... disappointment? Surprisingly, it hurts, and I realize that I've gone too far. If I'm going to get help looking for Theo, I must make her trust me. Shit. Why do I have this tendency not to engage my brain before I let my mouth run?

"That was a stupid thing for me to say," I say now, and hope I manage to display a remorseful expression. The fact is, I am sorry for how I spoke, rather than what I said. The thing is, I'm not used to socializing with people of her caliber and strength.

I try to guess her age. Maybe she’s in her late forties? Hard to tell with people who are so fair-skinned. She's not beautiful in the way women were beautiful back in the day when I read my mom's Vogue magazines. Instead, Miranda, with her clean, sharp features and penetrating gaze, is fascinating. She only has to enter a room or a situation and she's the one setting the tone, and she has an aura that suggests courage and strength. With her as an ally, my chances of keeping my promise to Mom, increase a hundred times over. "I can be such an idiot sometimes," I add. "I'm simply not used to socializing with decent people." Now I smile crookedly and this time it’s authentic.

Miranda studies me closely for a few moments but then returns the smile. It completely changes her expression. Her features soften and she looks much younger. My heart skips a beat, and my breath catches when I urgently have to inhale.

"Apology accepted. I know your life has been hard since everything happened," Miranda says gently. "How old were you?"

"Almost fourteen. Old enough to survive."

"Yes, obviously, but to quote you, it comes with a cost." A shadow flickers across Miranda's face. "Doesn't it?"

"It does." I don't want to think about the years I struggled to survive and did things that no one should even have to think about. "So, anyway, The Hudskills. You need access to clean fresh water and a place that's sheltered but can be built on without too much effort." I think of the lakes that are so serene and beautiful not far from the hut I call home. I can't let them get too close to that. I would just end up in the crossfire when the inevitable attack against the new settlement happens.

"Exactly. Think about this until we deploy tomorrow. Give us two or three different locations to investigate. If you can, then mark a map where they are and where potential threats could come from. We're not out to hurt anyone who already lives in The Hudskills. On the contrary, the more friendly people we can assimilate, the better." Miranda stands up and surprises me by stroking Zoya's head.

"Hello, friend. Lucky your owner has you." Her voice is so soft and has a hint of longing, which makes my stomach tighten.

I look down at Miranda's fingers in Zoya's fur. Her hands are slender and elegant. I’m picturing her getting manicures back in the day. That kind of French manicure with white tips that my mom sometimes painted on her nails when she was going out with her girlfriends.

I always had to help her paint the white tips on her right hand.

These days, Miranda's nails are short and practical; her hands weathered and wearing with the same eternal tan as mine.

"Andrea?" Miranda's voice breaks through my reverie.

"Yes? Sorry?" I feel my cheeks getting hot. Great. I’m blushing.

"Las night, when we walked Zoya together, I thought…if we find a dog that's suitable to mate with her, you could train the puppies the same way you've trained her." Miranda nods to herself. "That could be a much sought after occupation in our future settlement. Dog trainer. I realize it's thanks to your dog that you've been able to manage on your own all this time, and apart from being your companion, it makes her valuable."

Dog trainer? Miranda is forging on like a freight train in her planning and now she's come up with a job for me. She's trying to rope me in, make me feel like one of them. It's seductive and the fact that I find her fascinating... And that I somehow want to please her, to see her smile at me like she just did, concerns me. No, more than that, it terrifies me.
I stand up and try to look calm even though my brain is screaming ‘get out of here!’ so loudly that I can barely hear what I'm saying, I manage to answer.

"That sounds exciting. Something to think about." I snap my fingers and immediately Zoya abandons Miranda and stands by my side.

"I'm going to walk her a bit. It might be good to check the north shore more often."

"Okay." Miranda looks puzzled and I think she understands that I'm done talking for now and escaping by making up a chore for myself. If I continue talking to her right now, I'll say something that will make her angry again and then she might take back her promise of help. I can't forget the most important thing I have to keep front and center in my mind. Theo is my one and only goal in this existence. The reason is that I’m still alive even though I've been alone for fifteen years. I must find Theo. And if I don't, I have to at least find out what happened to him, and preferably exact revenge on those responsible for his death.

So, I take a deep breath, make sure Zoya is on point, and leave to go for a walk—and pretend to patrol the north shore of the river. No beautiful colonel, no matter how amazing I think she is, and how she makes me respond to her mere presence, is going to distract me.

Not a chance.

Continued behind door 12

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