Stryker: A Post-Apocalyptic Tale (16 page)

He walked around
the side of building and examined the front again. The rooms looked like any
chain hotel, but the façade was a pure ‘60s-era homage to NASA and the space
program. Stryker wondered who built the hotel and why. It looked like something
from a comic book or some science fiction book cover. The whole thing just
looked peculiar and the fact that it sat in the middle of nowhere was odd.

He looked around
and saw a poured slab with nothing on it across the street. The other corner
was an empty lot, and the final corner was a convenience store with shattered
glass lying on the ground in front of the window space.

Stryker got in the
Jeep and left. He drove another two hours and finally parked at a truck stop
that sat at the intersection of Interstates 8 and 10, and pulled an MRE and
bottle of water from the back of the Jeep. He moved to a table that sat at the
edge of the lot and prepared his food. Waiting for the heating pouch to do its
work, he examined the road atlas and decided to stop for the night somewhere
south of Tucson.

Late the following
day, he drove through the gates to the ranch just before sundown. After opening
the door with a key that was in a contractor’s lock box, he stepped into his
childhood home. The air smelled stale and musty and the entire floor was
covered in a fine layer of dust. In the kitchen, the fridge was empty and open.
Stryker walked out the screen door and around the house. He noted a few places
where paint was peeling, but aside from that, the main building seemed to be in
good repair. His cousin had apparently taken decent care of the place. He
decided to worry about any work needed around the place tomorrow, and went back
in the house, grabbed a flashlight and his M-4, and went to bed in what had
been his room.

The following
morning, he got power and water working, took a shower, and headed to the
cemetery to pay his respects.
After parking his car, Stryker walked through an
opening in the wrought-iron fence and entered the graveyard.
As he approached his family’s site, he stopped to examine
each of the four graves. His father and mother were the first two, and his
grandfather and grandmother were in the second. The headstones were identical
with the exception of the inscriptions, and three empty sites sat next to his
grandfather’s plot. His grandmother had purchased the empty sites to have room
for Stryker, his wife, and their daughter. He found it disturbing that the
entire family would not be together the way they planned. He murmured a prayer
and touched each headstone before sitting on the ground in front of them.

After a few
minutes, he returned to the ranch.

DIE OFF PLUS TWO YEARS

The group stood at
the edge of Lake Nosworthy, just north of the San Angelo Regional Airport and
south of downtown. Stryker had fished the lake as a boy, catching bass,
catfish, and sunfish. Houses, large and small, sat on spacious lots around the
eastern edge of the lake. They drove up to one majestic red brick home. It was
two stories high, with dormers dotting the front. Stryker studied the house for
a few minutes and decided it was worth a look. After getting out of the car, he
moved to the front door with his M-4 at the low ready, knocked on it, then
tried to turn the knob. It was locked. He walked back the Jeep where Haley and
Elle sat waiting. Both were armed with M-4s and side arms and were much more
proficient with the weapons, thanks to Sarge’s tutoring. They intended to stop
by the trading post the following day on the way back to the ranch and needed
the room in the vehicle, so Sarge and Erin volunteered to stay behind.

“Wait here. The
door’s locked, so I need to find a way in. Keep an eye out.”

“Okay,” they
replied in unison.. He walked back toward the house and moved down the side of
the building. The back yard consisted of a large swimming pool, green with algae,
and a dock with a fishing boat and a powerboat on either side. A deep back
porch extended across the length of the house, and patio furniture sat stacked
in one corner against the surrounding railing.

Stryker concluded
it was most like a weekend home and vacant. He walked to the back sliding door,
weapon still at the low ready, and tried to open the slider. When it wouldn’t
budge, he took his multi-tool from its belt holster, opened the flat
screwdriver blade, and rammed it between the molding that covered the latch
cover and the edge of the door that contained the locking mechanism. After
pulling upward several times, the latch gave, and he slid the door open. He
cleared the house, noting that the beds were all made and there were no dishes
or anything else that hinted of a hasty departure.

He walked to the
front door, turned the bolt, unlocked the lower latch, and eased it open.
Waving with one hand, he motioned the two ladies toward the house. They got out
of the Jeep and walked toward the house, then passed through the entrance and
walked into the living room. Stryker closed and locked the door behind them.

“What do you
think?” Elle asked.

“Why don’t you guys
look around the house and let me see if there’s a well. I didn’t see any solar
panels or a wind turbine; so if we don’t find a well, that’s a deal breaker
because we can’t dig one and hauling and boiling water from the lake would be
too hard.”

“Okay, we’ll check
out the upstairs,” Haley said.

“I cleared the house,
but stay alert,” Stryker replied, moving away from them and out the back door.
He circled the house and found no sign of a well, but circled again to be sure.
He found Elle and Haley admiring a kitchen that was decked out in stainless
steel appliances, a refrigerator the size of a walk-in closet, and an enormous
eating area that looked out at the lake.

“This is a really
nice house,” Elle said.

“I love the
kitchen,” Haley replied. “It has five bedrooms, each one with its own bath.”

“Sorry guys, but this
one is a non-starter. I can work with not having solar, because we can just
move our equipment here. But it doesn’t have a well.” He walked over to the
kitchen sink and opened the faucet. A hiss followed, then nothing. Both ladies
seemed disappointed and looked away.

“Sorry,” he
repeated. “But let’s check out some other places in the neighborhood. I like
the spacing between the houses and all we need to find is one that has a well.
The north end of the lake is less than a mile from the trading post and there
are all sorts of boats around.”

They piled back
into the Jeep and drove through the rest of the subdivision. Stryker was
looking for a front yard that didn’t contain a shut-off valve box for city
water, but came up empty-handed after a half hour. They drove back to the
entrance to the neighborhood and Stryker stopped to examine his map.

“I guess we have to
check out the Concho River and see if there’s any place there that looks good,”
he said, pulling out and backtracking to Bryant Boulevard, then turning north.
There was a small subdivision nestled in a bend in the river that looked
promising on the map. They turned east and entered the neighborhood and stopped
at the river’s edge, then turned back and parked.

“Why are we
parked?” Haley asked.

“I’m trying to
figure out where we can find a place that is both close to the water and that
would have a well.”

“You can get that
information at the country recorder’s office,” Elle answered.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Homes with
wells have to have addendums to the real estate contracts that transfer
ownership of the property.”

“How in the hell do
you know that?” Haley asked.

“My mom was a
realtor. I listened to her talking on the phone all the time. And our summer
home in Nantucket had a well. When we sold it, some guy had to inspect the well
and issue a certificate for the recorder. The areas along rivers and lakes
usually have to have flood insurance and that has to be documented, too. So, if
we can find the recorder’s office, and they have files, we can sort out what homes
are both close to water and have a well.”

“I thought your mom
was a gardener?” Stryker said.

“Well, she sold
real estate, too. She also rode horses, sewed, canned vegetables, did yoga, and
had a book group.”

“That tires me out
even hearing it,” Stryker replied. She just beamed back at him. Haley held up
her palm, and Elle high-fived her. “Where do you find a recorder’s office?”

“Usually in the
courthouse,” Elle replied.

“I know where it is
so let’s get a look.” They drove north toward the downtown area, turned right
on North Main Street and parked in front of a very long granite building with
rows of white columns across the front. The main entrance was an enormous steel
door that sat at the top of a flight of steps surrounded on both sides with
black handrails. Shredded American and Texas flags fluttered in the breeze from
the flagpole.

“Let’s get a look,”
Stryker said, exiting the Jeep with his weapon. The women did the same and they
approached the entrance of the building. Stryker could see an enormous dead
bolt by the door handle and concluded there was no way to enter the building
through the main entrance. He glanced around, then motioned for the young women
to follow him. They moved down the steps, checking in all directions, and
walked down the side of the building, carefully examining each window as they
passed. Haley saw one that was unlocked and pointed it out to Stryker, who
reached up and gently pushed the window open. He scrambled through the opening
and then lowered his hand to Haley, pulling her up and through the window, then
did the same with Elle. After closing the window, they moved through the office
and walked down to the main entrance area.

“It’s room 204 on
the second floor,” Elle said, tracing her finger down the directory. They
glanced around them before heading up the stairs. The arrow for 201-206 pointed
left, so they turned and walked until they reached the door. It lay open and
Stryker glanced in, then stepped back into the hallway. He was sure the room
was empty, but looked in again, then moved into the office area.

It was a very large
room with three desks and an entire row of filing cabinets across one wall. The
opposite wall was covered with an enormous map of the city. The three walked
over to the map and Stryker stabbed it three times in different locations.

“Those are the
three areas we want to search,” he said. “They’re all close to the trading post
and water.”

“How do we start?”
Haley asked.

“Start with the newest
files. The newer the house, the more likely it is to have solar and wind. Try
to find the ones that are on acreage, if possible.” They walked to the filing
area and began opening the drawers until Elle said, “These are from this year,”
and scooped up an armload of files. Haley grabbed more. Each cleared a desktop
and started going through them. Stryker emptied the rest of the cabinet and
delivered the remainder.

“Haley, keep an eye
on the door. I’m going to make sure the building is empty and I’ll be back in
about fifteen minutes.”

“Okay.”

He left through the
open door, turned right, and entered the next office. He did the same for the
rest of the floor. Each office was more or less the same, filled with file cabinets
and a small number of identical desks. Moving back down the stairwell, he
cleared the bottom floor as well. When he got to the last door, it was locked.
There was no dead bolt, so he used his multi-tool to force the latch back into
the strike plate and turned the knob. It opened easily and he walked into a
courtroom, complete with the raised area where the judge sat, the jury box, and
the observer’s seats. He spotted a door partially obscured by the raised area
and walked over and opened it. The room was opulent, with a hardwood desk the
size of a compact car. It contained expensive leather couches and easy chairs.
It was clearly a judge’s office, with one wall entirely covered with legal
books in a bookshelf that extended nearly to the ceiling.

A photograph hung
on one wall. It was an enlargement of a photo taken from a boat, and the house
in the picture was a large, one-story, ranch-style home that sat on a river
visible on the right side of the shot. On the left was what appeared to be a
large body of water that looked like a lake. The roof was covered with solar
panels and a wind turbine stood behind the house.

He glanced at the
empty chair and then sat in it and started going through the drawers of the
desk. He pulled out a large folder and started reading. It contained closing
documents for a home purchase, and the address was a road he had never heard
of.

He took the
envelope back to the office where Elle and Haley were going through files. He
nodded as he passed them and walked over to the large map of the city. After
again glancing at the address, he looked back at the map. After some searching,
he found the address. It was on the north side in an area where the Concho
River emptied into the lake. There did not appear to be any structures around
it.

“Guys, come over
here for a second, please.” They joined him at the map and he pointed to the
address on the documents after handing the folder to Elle. “There’s a house
right here where the river and the lake meet. It has solar and a well. The bonus
is it also has a wind turbine. That might run the pumps to the well or it could
be a shared system between the house and the pumps. Either way, it looks good.”

“How can you know
that?”

“Because there’s a
photo of the house in a judge’s office downstairs.”

“It’s only three
years old,” Elle said as she started reading the documents. And, it’s 5,300
square feet.”

“We can get to and
from the trading post in boats,” Stryker added. “I’ll show you the photo on our
way out. Did you guys have any luck?”

“Only two with
wells that are a few blocks from the river. They’re both under 2,000 square
feet and around twenty years old,” Elle replied.

“Let’s go look at
the photograph and then go to the house,” Stryker said. They tramped down the
stairs to the judge’s office. They all stared at the photograph and Stryker
said, “Let’s go. This could be pay dirt.” They left the office and went back to
the window through which they entered the building. Stryker lowered them both
to the ground and then followed them around the building and back to the Jeep.

Fifteen minutes
later, they approached the house on foot, all carrying weapons at the low
ready. After cutting a lock off the gate, they parked the Jeep in the heavy
woods that surrounded the clearing in which the house sat. Stryker told them
the house was isolated enough to possibly have survivors living there. Before
they entered the vast clearing that surrounded the building, Stryker motioned
for them to wait, and glanced at the house from behind a tree. He turned
around, again hidden by the tree, and examined the photograph in his mind. He
saw a small outbuilding that looked to be a tool shed on a lawn that was brown
and dead. The wind turbine blades were turning steadily in the breeze and it
looked like a pumping station at the base of the tower. There were large, red
water tanks at the side of the house. The windows and doors were closed, and no
car or vehicle was visible. The right side of the house had a side-load garage
and the house was covered with solar panels on the landlocked side. This
indicated that every square foot of the house’s roof, on both sides, was
covered with panels.

He focused on the
two visible corners of the house and saw no shadows. He thought about the
windows across the back of the house and saw only open drapes. Turning to Elle
and Haley, still concealed in the trees, he made the universal sign for “stay”
by raising a clenched fist and pointing to the ground. They both nodded.