A New World: Dissension by John O'Brien

say.
    I take a quick look behind us and see a small single engine aircraft a few thousand feet up paralleling our route. I haven’t heard any radio traffic on their channel in the past few minutes.
    “Lynn, run another scan across the channels,” I say.
    “Wilco,” she replies.
    “We’ll let it be for now. Everyone push on but keep your eyes open. There’s bound to be another roadblock ahead,” I say.
    I don’t want to have us stop to warn the aircraft away or take it down. I’m not a big fan of it above us but am willing to trade that for speed through the area for the time being. I’m sure it’s radioing our position to any others who happen to be around. We continue on the highway in the opposite lanes keeping our spacing. I’m rather thankful I haven’t seen any form of rockets as that would make a short end to our rendezvous with the sub.
    “I’ve picked up radio chatter on four sixty-seven dot fifty-eight seventy-five,” Lynn calls.
    “And?” I ask.
    “The aircraft is relaying our position to someone else and telling them to vacate. I’m assuming it’s the aircraft calling as I can hear its engine in the background,” she answers.
    “Okay, lock it in. Let’s continue forward and keep alert,” I say. Passing by toll booths on our side of the highway, I see the Stryker ahead of us round a curve.
    “We have another roadblock two hundred yards ahead. No sign of anyone,” I hear it report.
    “Hold up and blast a hole through. I don’t want to be surprised by any gifts they may have left behind. Watch to the sides,” I respond.
    I see Lynn’s brake lights and bring our Humvee to a halt. McCafferty climbs back to man the M-240. Seconds later I hear the sharp chunk – chunk – chunk of the .50 cals opening up ahead. Minutes later I hear “It’s clear” and I have everyone advance. The Strykers carve a way through the vehicles as before with Lynn and me following on the left. This already seems like a long day and it just began. I’m hoping we don’t run into anything else along the way. Although our time table hasn’t been upset to any great degree, I’m eager to get north and meet with Captain Leonard.
    It’s going to be a long day as I plan on taking the Spooky out tonight. There’s still so much to do. It seems like the list just keeps getting longer and I’m not overly thrilled about the changes I’ve noticed in the night runners. Casting out briefly, I feel a few faint presences scattered throughout the area. Even with this recent action and the upcoming meeting with Leonard, the night runners still weigh heavily on my mind. I think again about telling the group but I’m not sure of what their reaction will be. Lynn seems to think they’ll be stunned at first but okay with it. Me, well, I don’t want to chance that or create any division within our tight group. We need that right now but they also deserve to know. Yes, I seem to have a life filled with quandaries. Sighing, I maneuver through the gap created by the Stryker and notice the aircraft turn back.
    We pass by a warehouse park with a mass of parked tractor trailers; reminders of a time that has passed. Another residential neighborhood slides by and we are soon through the Gig Harbor area without any further incident. Fir trees and cedars begin to line the road on both sides. They are completely oblivious to what just occurred and anything going on with the few of us who are left. They will continue on just as they always have. I think about calling Sam on the radio to see if he wants join us but may on the way back. Right now, my mind is on getting to our rendezvous and the meeting itself.
    Beads of moisture begin to accumulate on the windshield from low-lying mist in the air. The trees along the sides have a silvery tint from droplets clinging to their long branches. The lowering clouds create a world of gray and green. Some of the few deciduous trees have started to turn, lending some color, but it’s almost washed