all god's orphans

Wes sat in the back of Raymond’s RV, his hands on the HAM radio setup moving switches and dials with expert finesse. Raymond watched from behind, impressed that Wes seemed to know far more about this equipment than he did.

“What are you doing now?” He asked. Wes ignored him for a moment as he turned the frequency dial in tiny increments.

“Looking for something.” Static shushed from the little speaker as the numbers on the digital face went up in small amounts. As he moved through the band, a distant noise started to come through. He zeroed in on it and soon the strange signal was coming through clearly, though it didn’t sound clear. It was the same inhuman garble that Raymond had found before. Short modulations in tone followed by what sounded like aliens speaking to one another.

“There it is again!” Shouted Raymond, letting more fear out of his throat than he meant to. “What is that?” Wes didn’t react at all. He simply noted the frequency.

“It’s a scrambled signal.” He informed Raymond who was not expecting such a mundane explanation.

“Are you sure?” He asked. “It doesn’t sound human.” Wes scrunched his brow.

“Human?” Raymond suddenly felt silly. He shuffled his feet.

“Yeah.” He stammered. “I thought…maybe…” He didn’t really want to say what he thought now. It would sound even dumber out loud. “What’s a scrambled signal?”

“It’s a way to keep communications encrypted while they’re being broadcast. You have to have a certain piece of equipment with the right code to capture and descramble it. It’s not an amateur broadcast, that much I can say for sure.”

“So who is it?” Sarah chimed in. Wes shrugged.

“I don’t know.” He admitted. “Government. Military. Corporate. There’s no way to know without decrypting it and there’s no easy way to decrypt it.” Sarah looked worried. “It’s nothing to worry about, Sarah.” He assured her, patting her hand. “I’m sure it’s just some boring radio comms between government officials.” Sarah smiled back, happy that someone seemed to know what was going on around here. Raymond retrieved a black, embossed folder from an overhead pouch near the driver’s seat. He flipped through it and selected a single piece of paper, handing it to Wes.

“Do you think you can try this frequency? I haven’t been able to get anything.” Wes took the paper and looked it over. It was a memo detailing contact information for an extraction team that would take clients to something they called “Valhalla.” There was a list of different forms of communication for contacting them including emails, phone numbers, and at the bottom, shortwave radio frequencies. Included in all of this was a note that in order to reach them via radio, the client would have to get within three hundred miles of Kearney, Nebraska. Wes consulted a nearby atlas. They were still well outside of Kansas City. Easily four hundred miles away from Kearney.

“I’ll give it a shot.” He told Raymond. “But according to this, we need to get a lot closer.” Raymond sighed.

“Yeah. I know. I just thought maybe you knew something I didn’t know about the radio.”

“Well,” Wes stared at the map. “I’ve heard there are checkpoints all along the borders heading west. We’d have to get past them to reach whoever it is you’re trying to reach. Have you tried the phone number?” It was the simplest solution.

“Nobody answers.” Replied Sarah when Raymond hesitated.

“It’s just a recording that says to try again later.”

“What is ‘Valhalla’?” Wes asked. Again, Raymond didn’t answer immediately. “Look, Raymond. I get it. You’re trying to protect your daughter and you don’t want to tell me too much. I get it, but if you want my help, I need to know what you’re trying to do.” Raymond considered this and finally relented.

“It’s a bunker. Designed to sustain survivors indefinitely in the event of an apocalyptic event.”

“Be prepared, huh?” Said Wes.

“Well, I was a Boy Scout.” Raymond chuckled. Wes went back to the map.

“Unfortunately, we aren’t going to be able to get past any checkpoints without a plan.”

“Can’t we just go around them?” Asked Sarah.

“No.” Answered Wes. “They will be prepared for that. I suspect it’s part of the reason they started the cordon where they did. Flat land. Good visibility. Few roads. You can secure huge areas with relatively few soldiers.” As they all stared at the map, the distant sound of helicopters began to grow steadily. All three of them poured out of the vehicle and into the parking lot of the gas station where they had stopped. After a few minutes, a squadron of CH-54 helicopters passed overhead. They looked like giant, mechanical grasshoppers and they’re tails were emblazoned with “US ARMY”.

“Been seeing a lot of those lately.” Remarked Raymond. “We must be getting close to their base.” Wes watched them as they buzzed towards the horizon. This flat land afforded an unhindered view for miles and it was several minutes before they disappeared completely.

“Base?” Repeated Wes before falling silent. “I think I may have an idea.” He finally said. “But I want you to take me with you.” Raymond didn’t need long to think it over.

“All right.” He said, glad to have someone else doing the thinking. “What’s your plan?”