Chapter 1Army Training Sir - Monday, June 4th
The sun was peeking over the mountain outside the window of Sergeant First Class Clayton Collier’s bedroom and spreading its bright yellow light on the project in front of him. It was early June, and the morning was just shaking off its nightly chill in the valley next to Blue Ridge Mountain. He was packing for a training evolution down in Georgia and he was trying to decide on whether he needed two sets of extra batteries for his headlamp. His wife Lori stirred in her warm slumber and opened one eye. “Do you think you packed enough gear, Sergeant Collier?” she chided him playfully. “It's only a five-day deployment. You don't need to pack everything you were issued.” He reached over and smacked her ass lightly. It was still as firm as the day he had met her and still made his pants feel tight. “You know what I always say baby. I would rather have it and not need it, than need it and not have it. As long as I can handle the weight, I am going to be ready for anything.” This was his usual mantra. His pack was always full and heavy, but he never complained or tried to lighten his load, and he was usually able to dig out what someone needed in any situation. “Just don’t forget the pouch,” Lori said lightly, already drifting back towards sleep. The pouch was a small thing, made of brown leather and stitched with waxed string, with a cord of rawhide, long enough to wear around his neck. Inside were three locks of braided hair. One each from his children’s first haircuts. The other is from Lori. There is also a 20-sided die, a small quartz stone in the shape of a heart, and a small glass ladybug.
The D20 is from his son, an avid gamer. The ladybug is from his daughter, in reference to her childhood nickname. The heart stone was found by Lori when they were on their month-long honeymoon, traveling the country and exploring every park they could. Clay takes this amulet on every deployment, long or short. It was already around his neck.
Clay had been in the Army for nineteen years. His current duty assignment, watch leader of the guard unit at Mount Weather Emergency Operations Center was going to be his last. He was looking forward to retirement after a rewarding career. This upcoming deployment was a short survival training session that would run him and his watch section through an annual refresher course on how to stay alive in the bush with limited supplies. The training was taking place in the Chattahoochee National Forest north of Atlanta, Georgia. His squad would be leaving in an hour for the ten-hour drive down to the training area, where they would practice several survival skills, like shelter building, fire making and resource gathering. His job of guarding the Emergency Operations Center didn’t usually need lots of survival skills, but having those skills was part of being in the Army and he liked to keep himself up to date on all the latest techniques.
The OpCen had a very special mission. Underneath the normal base buildings was a special secret city, full of everything needed to keep the government running when bad things happened. He didn’t go down below very much as his main function was to keep curious tourists and sometimes lost hikers away from the fence line. Everybody knew that something unique went on at the OpCen, but keeping unauthorized personnel away was his job.
Clay fastened the buckles on the rucksack and shouldered the pack. He bent over and gave Lori a kiss. She kissed him back and mumbled something that sounded like “see you soon, baby.” He headed out the door and down the long hall of the old farmhouse. He peered into the first bedroom on his left. Inside everything was neat and tidy. Asleep under a thick comforter was his firstborn, Britney. All he could see was a fall of reddish-brown hair sticking out. Britney was 20 years old and had just finished her third year at Virginia Tech, where she was working on a degree in botany. She loved the outdoors and everything that grew in them and spent a lot of her free time hiking the nearby Appalachian Trail. John went over to her bed and laid his hand on where he guessed her shoulder was. “I’m on my way, darling. I’ll be back in a few days.” He whispered into her ear. All he got from her was a slight shake of her head and a soft “Love you,” whispered back at him.
He exited the room and passed the old bathroom on the left. The last room, this one on the right just before the steps, was his son Shane’s room. He looked inside this room and as usual; it looked like a hurricane had just passed through. The unmade bed was empty, as he had expected. Shane had just spent the weekend hiking and camping on the trail up north. He had gone out with some of his recently graduated high school friends as a little celebration for just completing their senior year. Shane planned to follow his sister to Virginia Tech next fall, but he also planned to enjoy his “Last Summer of Freedom” as he put it, by spending as much time as possible doing whatever he felt like. He was due to return later today.
Clay descended the steps and turned into the hall which led to the front door. The old farmhouse was over 150 years old. They were located across the Shenandoah River from Blue Ridge Mountain, where Mt Weather was located. The farm had once belonged to Lori’s grandfather who had raised a number of crops and some dairy cattle before selling off most of the land and retiring. They had kept the place when he died and when John was lucky enough to get his latest assignment; they had moved in. It was perfect. A mere twenty-minute drive to work each day and the area was beautiful. Blue Ridge Mountain rose to the east, huge and green. Before that, the Shenandoah River snaked its way at the foot of the mountain, working its way into the valley from the south. The river was a great place to play, perfect for canoeing and swimming. The Appalachian Trail came from the south to Ashby Gap where it crossed route 50 and worked its way to the north through the mountains. Here it traveled over a series of 14 small hills called the roller coaster, due to the short but steep ups and downs of each hill. Clay had spent a lot of time hiking that trail and had done the whole thing from Georgia to Maine when he was 19, a couple of years before joining the Army.
As Clay opened the front door and left the house, a desert-colored Humvee pulled up in front of the house after coming up the long driveway from the road. John approached the vehicle, threw his ruck into the back and walked around to the passenger side where a tall skinny kid with blond hair was exiting and moving to the back seat. “Morning Sarge,” said Corporal Jimmy McAfee as he jumped into the rear of the Hummer. “Great day for some survival, ain’t it?” “Every day is a great day for survival Corporal.” Clay replied. “If not, we’d all be dead.” Clay settled in and looked over at the driver, Private Mike Taylor, and gave a nod. Private Taylor gave a two-finger salute and put the rumbling beast into gear. Gravel spurted out from under the Hummer’s tires as they headed down the driveway, turned right and shot off for the highway and their next five days of adventure. Clay looked over his shoulder to the old farmhouse. He didn’t realize it at the time, but it would be another two months until he saw it again.