March 30th, 2013
Near Chadron, Nebraska
1
"We are an American Red Cross Convoy picking up survivors. We offer food, shelter, medical care and protection. Does anyone copy?"
"We hear you, Safe Haven! We're in Hot Springs. We're out of food. Are you close?"
The man's voice that answered was different from the one they'd been hearing regularly for the last week, and Marc and Angela both stopped cleaning up their late lunch to listen to the conversation. It was nearly three o'clock, and they needed to get moving again, but the waves of authority from that voice were impossible to ignore. To Marc's ears, he sounded military.
"Close enough. How many people?"
"Twelve. Two are sick. We don't know what it is."
"That's a lie," Angela stated, able to hear it, read it, in the woman's shaky voice.
"We offer help to everyone, sick or not. Do you know Morse or phonetic code?"
"I know both, but go slow, it's been a while."
"You an ex-sailor by any chance, Hot Water?"
The surprise was clear in her voice, "Nancy, and yes, for seven years. How'd you know that?"
The Safe Haven man's tone was laced lightly with a comforting humor, "Because of the slight edge of dislike in your words. Marines and Navy didn't usually mix."
"No Sir, they didn't."
"They do now. We're all soldiers in the same fight for survival. Take down this message."
"He tells his men that too," Angela muttered, listening in more ways than one.
The taps came slowly enough for Angela - who'd been learning the code from Marc - to understand, and she frowned deeper. "They're in the Black Hills. That's only one day from us."
Over the hood, Marc's eyes locked onto hers, the words silent and full of longing, "I want more time."
"Me too."
"Can't we?"
Silence…
Two days would be All Fools' Day. Was it an omen?
Marc frowned. "You all right?"
Angela stared at the vast field of corn that ran as far as the eye could see on both sides. They were only about five miles from the Nebraska-South Dakota state line, where there were barbed wire fences and grass struggling to survive along the side of the road, but no trees. Except for a faded red barn with a tall, blue grain silo on one side, there was only corn here.
"Angie?" She turned to look at him, and Marc hated to see the fear in her eyes. It hadn't been there much in the last weeks, she had worked hard to overcome her weaknesses, and he was still amazed by how fast she'd done it. "You could call now. Talk to your boy."