First Night in the Wild

Steaming food arrived in a train of stainless steel trays. Simple, made in short order. Hamburgers, soups, mashed potatoes. Some people used their camp gear for plates and bowls.

Camping gear came in next. Tents set up, bedrolls laid out. It was 11 PM.

Families settled down. Evening chats calmed the kids. Everyone made a final trip to the locker rooms before crawling into sleeping bags. The kids fell asleep quickly, the parents, more worried, talked a while longer with their new neighbors.

“What about tomorrow?”

“I can’t believe this happened, it’s terrible.”

“I’m sure glad these people were here.”

“We have to know more about them. We have to learn about this place.”

No one thinks they’re going home and it makes them tight with fear. They used to know what’s next. Now they know nothing.

Small groups had formed. Some still talking, quietly. The plaid jacket guy is with a few others, whispering.

The same little girl with the red scarf, which is now around her neck because the air is clean, is cuddling with her dad inside their tent. “Will heroes come and save us?” she says to her dad.

“I don’t know, honey. Maybe these people are our heroes. We’re safe here.”

“But what about home? I miss everyone. My school, my friends.”

“I know,” he says, “I do too. We’ll have to take it a day at a time. Tomorrow will be different. We’ll know more things, tomorrow.”

“OK.”

“This is our first night in the Wild. Funny that we’re in a gym.” he says.

“Yeah,” she says, “Funny that I have to use my imagination to think of trees, here in the Wild.”

Q: Noted.

The gym filled with the sounds of people trying to settle in. Many were only lying on mats, not in tents. Clothes rustled. Bodies shifted, searching for the next small pocket of comfort. More muted whispers. No snoring until 1 AM.

John II’s wife took the Chief’s wife and kids to their place for the night. But the two of them lie on the gym mats. The Chief asks John II if Q can hear the whispers of the plaid jacket guy and his crew.

Q: No.

“I’m not going to fall asleep, I know that,” says the Chief.

“Yeah. Q will let me know if he learns anything. He can talk to you over your device, but the chip is much better. Maybe it’s time to get the chip in your head, Chief?”

“Threw my badge in the trunk. Now, you want to put a chip in my head?”

“Yeah, now it’s more valuable. To both of us.”

John II sleeps but the Chief’s mind wanders and he’s awake if not alert. The image of Whitefish people dying of starvation in the midst of the ashy dust. Even worse, he reflects on the troublemakers he’s had  to deal with in the past. He’s sure some will show up.  But he can’t help think they’ll cause more trouble for all the people left in town. Everyone will be at their end game. Everyone thinking this is it. It’s over. God, let it be quick for them, he thinks.

They both hear a door shut. The plaid jacket guy is just laying down on his mat, eyes closed.

The Chief wonders if he’s too still.

Q: He went to the locker room.

But eventually, the Chief drifts off, fitfully, like a cop staying in his office overnight with prisoners in their cells.

Into the dark he murmurs, “Those are the people I don’t want to see here.”

Q: Noted