Chapter 13: Returning to the Forsaken Roads

It had been well over a day and a half. The closed-up interior garage of Dome 2 was busier than ever. The truck rig was undergoing a needed overhaul. Crane units and repair drones were busy closing up bullet holes. Greg and Payton were busy looking at the engine housing and reattaching the belts to the massive engine.

Meanwhile, Gip’grenda was sitting peacefully on a deployed lounge chair, listening to music and enjoying a glass of lemonade. Her right leg had a bandage on it. While she wasn’t working, the reptilian woman seemed happy and intent on watching the humans do their work with the truck. Country music seemed to be echoing inside the interior. For a moment, the Itrean seemed so relaxed that she was ready to fall asleep.

“You feel ready to become the new superintendent of this dome?” Greg asked Payton.

The man with the stalwart pale complexion replied back. “Not really.”

“I can’t speak for your experience and how long you’ve worked here.”

“All my life, really. The first order is literally telling the workers to stop working and get medical treatment. How’s that supposed to help the crop yields?”

“Maybe it shows that you actually care for them?”

“Yep...”

“Have you already contacted Waterville to get repair teams to fix the water purifier?”

“Yep ... I got two teams coming including an investigation team. Something just keeps bothering me, though...” He paused and crossed his arms to look at Greg. “If it weren’t the Itreans who attacked us, then who did?”

“What information do you have so far?”

“Multiple bullet holes and two other big holes so far ... maybe a tank round of some sort. I’m no soldier. It wasn’t an internal explosion ... something had to have done it.”

“Any rouge bandits in this region?”

“Not that I know of. Besides the coastal domes, nothing can survive out here. The dust storms choke the life out of everyone that dares try. Are you sure those Itreans weren’t responsible?”

“Hora’da don’t lie unless paid,” Gip’grenda said. She opened her eyes and stirred, listening to their conversation.

“Ah...,” Greg remarked. “Look at the lazy bones here ... Here we are working on the truck, and she’s busy doing nothing. These Itreans are supposed to have better regenerative abilities than us, and she’s just sitting back like she’s some king.”

The Itrean smiled, knowing that the rancher was making a small joke. She put her hands behind her feathery head, almost as a gesture of relaxation.

“Nah,” Payton added. “She’s just going to use the excuse that she rescued my son and deserves to do nothing for a while. Typical celebrities...”

The interior door of the garage opened up. A pair of individuals entered the room. Jalen wore his survival suit, his face clearly seen. Ernesh and another guard walked beside him. All of them were armed with holstered pistols. The multi-colored bandages that the security officers wore had been long removed.

“Ah, there he is,” Jalen remarked as he walked up to face Greg. The rancher stopped his work and turned to face him.

“How are you, Jalen?” Greg asked.

“Busy as ever. Laying the groundwork for a new government is a difficult process. I get half of one side complaining to me, and then I get another side complaining if I don’t follow their way.”

“You got the hard end of the stick. Everyone’s been used to operating under a tyrannical regime. But I can tell you that it’s a good sign. You always know that you have freedom of speech if both sides want to bitch at each other and do it for the rest of their lives. You’re a step ahead most of the domes when it comes to restablishing a democratic republic. Assuming whatever happens with me back in Las Vegas, I’m going to be facing the same issues, just with fewer people. Honestly, I don’t envy you.”

“The only thing that I keep questioning myself is how the historians are going to be looking at me. They might call me a dictator.”

“For now, maybe, but your goal is to reestablish elections. Consider this a temporary position until the day the people have the right to vote. I’m pretty sure if you’re listening to everyone and gave them more rights than Orias did, they’ll want you to be there. History has a tendency to reward good people, and before you know it, they’re putting up statues of you everywhere because they actually like you.”

Jalen smiled. “That jives with me. Perhaps you’re right. How goes the repairs?”

Greg sighed as he looked at the truck. “That gunfight put a few holes in places I didn’t want. One of the rounds hit the top portion of my fuel tank. Had a few punch through the home container and put a hole in my sink. Tire got hit. I went and used the spare, but I’m getting this other tire patched up before I go, just in case I need it again. The lights are busted up, which is going to limit my travels at night.”

“Can you replace the bulbs?”

Greg shook his head. “I would have to have replacements shipped in. Besides that, your repair drones are doing a nice job fixing everything like new.”

“Well...” Jalen walked around Greg to look at the rig, seeing that the rear trailer had been reinstalled. “Take all the time you need to finish these repairs.” He pulled something out of his pocket. “I have something for you, Greg.”

“What is it?” Greg questioned. He looked at what looked like a set of tiny, non-see-through plastic bags. There had to be six in total.

“I did as you said and spoke to your Doctor Himari,” the superintendent explained. “From our storehouses. Seeds and DNA samples.”

“Picea-Spruce, Aucer Rubrum-Red Maple, Tilia Americana-Basswood.” He read some of the labels. A smile appeared on his face before he placed them into his pocket.

“I’m afraid it’s not as much as she hoped, but if your cloning facility is in full swing, she can start getting other plants brought back from extinction. Here at Boise, we’ve been doing what we can to preserve the trees and plants.”

“Give us a little more time,” Payton added. “I know some of our storehouses. I’m sure there’s more in there that you haven’t found.”

“Anything you find, the better,” Greg said. “I know she’ll be happy to have these.”

“She’ll get them all,” Jalen said. “That I can promise.” The man put his hands on his hips. “I’ve also had a nice chat with Twin Falls.”

“You established contact with your neighbors?”

“I admit, it was strange getting a chance to talk with James again. I told him I had nothing but containers of Boisen biodiesel being sent his way. Apparently, somebody needed it for his travels back home.”

Greg felt nothing but relief upon hearing it. Even Gip’grenda seemed happy to hear of it.

“Thank you,” he told Jalen.

“There’s more of it heading here, too, more fuel than you ever need to make the trip there and back, free of charge.”

Greg took a deep breath, knowing that he was one step closer to making the final trip. The door opened as a woman entered the garage. In her hand was a closed basket of some sort. She was approaching Jalen and Greg.

“Oh,” Jalen said. “And, something else for your travels as well.”

“More gifts?” Greg remarked.

“Actually, it’s mine,” Payton said. “From me to you for bringing my son back alive. Boisen Idaho Russet potatoes and a batch of Jewel strawberries. I handpicked them myself. I know you needed to help replenish your food stock.”

The woman placed it on the pavement as Gip’grenda leaned up to look at it.

“I wouldn’t mind having some of that for the trip,” Greg commented.

“Food?” the Itrean asked.

“Yes,” Payton replied. “Some of the best that we grow around here.”

The Itrean’s scaly hands began reaching outward, gesturing as if she were hungry.

“You kidding?” Greg asked her. “Now she’s ready to eat it all up.”

“Heh,” Jalen opened the basket and pulled a single potato and the container of strawberries before handing it to her. “Can’t turn down the hungry around here.” Everyone briefly looked at the Itrean as she sniffed the strawberries and started chowing them down like candy.

“It’s alright,” Payton remarked. “I can fetch more before you go.”

The Itrean was nodding her head in approval. Greg was almost left shaking his head before turning to look at Jalen.

“Well, since we’re in the gift-giving mood,” Greg remarked. He walked to the open truck driver’s side door, behind the seat, where his guns were. The rancher pulled out two items of interest before returning to Jalen. The superintendent seemed confused.

“What is that?” Jalen asked.

“US Flag and a pamphlet booklet of the US Constitution,” Greg explained. “I figure since you’re creating a new government, this might help you out.”

“Man,” Ernesh remarked, looking at it. “Orias wanted all of them destroyed. I figured you carried a spare with you, seeing that you had one waving on your truck.”

“Is there going to be a problem with that?”

“No, not at all.” Ernesh took the two items and held them close to him.

“I wouldn’t mind having that as a good replacement to what Orias had,” Jalen said. “I like the pattern and multitude of stars on it. There were really 52 stars on this thing?”

“Yep,” Greg replied.

“And those were ... nations ... strips of land. There’s more stars on this than dome settlements on this continent. I wouldn’t mind taking a look at that Constitution again, too. Might be easier to work things out with my constituents.”

“There’s something else that I want to check out before I leave,” Greg said. “I want to look at the damage you guys took ... the damage to the water purifier unit.”

“I wouldn’t mind investigating it up close again,” Jalen replied. “I need as much information to pass to the repair team as possible.”

“Same here,” Payton replied.

It had been half an hour.

The team of men walked outside of Dome 2. Greg and Jalen walked alongside each other. Their headcovers were on as a minor dust storm resided over the area. The sand neatly bounced over the circular wall.

“So you believe that you can get Doctor Himari to help expand the cloning facilities here?” Greg asked.

“Yes. I like the sound of this... ‘beef,’” Jalen said. “Although, I’m thinking more of the idea of ‘chicken’ ... maybe ‘pork’ as well.”

“I’m sure we can work something out.”

“It’s going to require a lot of resources to expand production,” Payton added. “We’re a little low in manpower.”

“I was thinking...” Jalen tried to say.

“Oh no...” Greg said with a hint of aggravation.

“What?”

“I already know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking of hiring Itreans to help you out.”

“Heh ... You’re right. I spoke with James. He mentioned about the Itreans and their ability to do hard work. Some of them might make good farmhands. Some of them might even find a few of our bachelors in the process.”

Greg sighed. “Yeah ... they are.”

“You almost sound resentful of them. What about you and Gip’grenda? You two seem to be a good couple.”

“Gip’grenda isn’t my wife. She’s ... she’s...”

Jalen looked at Greg. A small chuckle appeared on his face before he tapped him on the shoulder.

“I hear you, bro,” Jalen replied, his tone changed. “You know ... word is spreading about what you two managed to accomplish here at Boise. I almost wish you didn’t have to take off so quickly.”

“I need to return to the road,” Greg told him. “I can’t forget my mission. I need to reach Montana.”

“If you’re heading northeast, you’ll be going through portions of the dead forests.”

“What do you know of it?”

“Stories ... ghost stories ... cases where people go into it and never return ... I’m pretty sure that some of it was Orias’s propaganda to scare individuals from leaving.”

“It’s just a bunch of dead trees. It shouldn’t be that foreboding.”

“No, but there were other supposed reports of a few explorers that attempted to make the roads northeast. The mountains ... landslides ruined a lot of the roads. I don’t think your truck would be able to make it through.”

Greg sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that. There has to be a way to cross through it. James said that another group of pilgrims settled northeast of here.”

“You know more than me. Even the fuel trucks that are heading to Twin Falls are simply taking the route you took to get here. It’s that or take an aerial transport to get you there.”

“That would defeat the purpose.”

“I imagine you would say that. Not like we have many shuttles that we can spare.”

“You guys really need to get yourselves more prepared,” Greg remarked. “Orias did you dirty.”

“Same,” Payton said. “After seeing what you were able to do with your truck, I want guns, lots of guns. I’m not letting anybody take my boy ever again. He’s going to know how to defend himself!”

“It’s on the list of things to do,” Jalen said. “Defense stations, right to self-defense, all of it. We’re not letting another incident like that happen ever again.”

The team of men reached the area that led to the water purifier station. It was shaped like a rectangular block that stuck out of the dome’s circular wall. Sets of hard pipes lined the outer structure, along with a massive pump station unit linked to the outside. While the haze of sand made some visibility difficult, Greg could see more and more of it. Upon approaching it, the rancher could see the damage.

“Here it is,” Jalen said. “Water Purifier Unit 2.”

Payton pulled out a tablet and began taking pictures. Greg continued to approach the unit. His boots walked across the orange sludge mud where the filtered muck impacted the sand. Eventually, he was close enough to see everything in great detail.

“What do you see, Greg?” Jalen asked him.

“Blast marks,” Greg said. “I count dozens of bullet strikes ... at least 20 so far. It was ... a short round burst ... I think they were trying to punch through the armor but failed. Domes should be able to handle most small arms fire ... anything to heavy caliber rifle rounds.”

“Are we truly sure the Itrean mercenaries weren’t responsible?” Payton asked.

“The Hora’da that I faced had heavy guns on their vehicles, but something tells me that they wouldn’t just make pot shots onto the armor like this. They would have just used their autocannons and knocked the whole unit out.”

The rancher continued to investigate it. He stepped further and further into the orange mud, his boots sinking into the sickening sludge. His curiosity was driving him to figure out what was going on. Then, his gloved hand felt something. The dusty air cleared up enough that he could see it.

“Claw marks,” Greg said.

“Wha...,” Payton asked. “Claw marks?”

“I see a pattern ... four lines ... two slash marks ... as if something was trying to claw the armor.”

“I never spotted this...”

“Because I try to avoid wallowing around in that gunk that you’re doing now.”

Indeed, Greg’s suit was letting him know that he was almost knee-deep in the orange muck. This was concentrated in its most deadliest form. However, he felt the need to continue investigating. His hand and eyes finally looked up at the two giant holes.

“A high explosive round...,” Greg remarked. “After the armor was tested, they retreated and fired two rounds, cutting into the armor. I can see further evidence of the same caliber rounds striking the interior.” He began looking around at the sludge. “I don’t see any signs of an approach.”

“The unit normally flushes the orange muck away from the building,” Payton explained. “But the filtration tank was ruptured. We didn’t see any tracks leading up to this, but the dust storms could have easily eaten away any signs of something that was here.”

The claw marks were what seemed to gather Greg’s attention the most. He used his suit panel to scan it, marking the proportions and angles. The more and more he looked at it, the more he could feel a chill run up his spine. Eventually, upon looking up at the exploded crater, he could see more of the orange gunk that wanted to dribble onto the mud below. Another set of claw imprints could be seen on the very edge of the scorch marks, this one with a hint of something else.