Silence of the Apocalypse

Chapter 11: The Hope

Dark roast... mmm.

Mikayla hadn't tasted good coffee in... well, it had been so long that she could barely remember. For the moment, she took a deep breath, smelling the rich coffee in her canteen. Armin and these men (Who she still didn't know, neither did she know their ties to each other) had been talking for a while; judging by his tone of voice, Armin must've been arguing to share information with her.

Finally, after her second cup, Mikayla moved her chair next to the group. The men shifted uncomfortably around her, which was kind of amusing.

"So... hi." Armin sported one of his dorky smiles. His looks always made her blush, but his new rugged look made her practically melt inside.

"Hi," she managed to say. He set his mug down one of the nearby terminals, and held out his hand for her. She gladly received it, along with a tender squeeze.

Armin's usual glow turned a guilty shade, and he spoke. "I know I've been keeping things from you, and I'm sorry. I-" He looked around, into each of his comrade's faces. "We are prepared to tell you everything you want to know."

"Well, it's about time," she said, giving a playful smile as she said it. "First off: why are you guys here? And what's in the box?" She gestured to the black container she'd seen earlier.

The mercenary on her left, apparently the older of the group, got up from his chair. When he reached the box, he pushed on a groove on the side of the container. A keypad shot open on top of the container, and, after a long list of numbers was inputed, the container unlocked. It opened with a hiss, revealing its contents: rations, heavy arms, survival equipment, a generator, and a strange-looking laptop.

"What's with the computer?" she asked.

"Ever since the war," the merc said, "most satellites are beyond contact or irreparable. However, this installation still has access to a few satellites. This laptop allows us to keep close contact with our higher-ups."

"Okay, that makes sense, but why are you here?" Mikayla's tone shifted, suspicion and curiosity filling her mind.

With a sigh, the merc spoke. "Ever since the world fell into chaos, the U.S. military was regrouped multiple times, as our satelites were knocked about."

"About 3 years into the chaos, a secret bureau was formed.
The National Recoverable Initiative was formed to reclaim what power our country could grab, starting with the reclamation of the country's military ops centers."

"Your boyfriend here is the best soldier we have. Did he tell you about Hoover Dam?"

"Actually Yes, he did." Armin's hand shook, as did his whole body, but the merc continued.

"Well, what you may not know is that there is no Hoover Dam anymore. While satellite images were being corderned for mapping, we saw Armin; He was walking away from the Dam, in nothing but a jumpsuit. Behind him, the Dam had erupted in an explosion."

Mikayla's eyes widened, and she looked at Armin with disbelief, then concern. His features were now bleak and haunting. His grip in her hand was nearly gone. She gave him a little squeeze, which he returned with a small peck on the cheek.

She looked at the aged mercenary. "You still haven't answered my question."

"I'm getting to it." he said. " This mountain installation has a receiver on it; this receiver has direct access to a communications satellite, allowing us access to D.C. and it's resources. All Armin had to do was deliver the biggest piece of the puzzle."

The glow of the liquid lit the features of the soldier. It was clear he was much older than he'd let off; maybe in his late 40s, an old man in these days. There was an almost haunting glow eminating from his eyes, like a glimpse into an ancient furnace.

"This is a wireless tracking agent. A couple of eggheads in a lab thought it up. It directly connects it's communications division to any tech it comes into contact with." He gestured to the decrepit control room. " This place was an old installation, at back from WWII. The U.S used it to relay messages to spies overseas."

"Well, why use it now?" Mikayla asked.

"We've recently acquired allies overseas who are willing to help us establish international law. This station still has access to radio beacons that work on a multinational range. On a good night, we may even reach Dubai."

"And now... The moment of truth."

With help from the other two, the gristled merc carefully inserted the tubes into a small slot opposite to Armin and Mikayla's vision. The dusty screens came to life, lighting the room with an unnatural blue glow.

The old soldier went to work, his fingers flying across the keyboard faster than Mikayla could follow. After a list of words and commands she'd never heard of, a new page opened. The display indicated a syncing process was taking place. A small hourglass tipped endlessly, it's pixels the only color on the cold white screen.

"Now... We wait."