Post by Tamara "Steel Wolf" Lyell on Dec 16, 2018 22:39:53 GMT -5
After almost a year of wandering, the Scouts of Rikers Island - those led by Tamara "Steel Wolf" Lyell, who rested for the winter in Idaho and those led by Brandon "Bam" Cole, having stayed in Texas for about the same time - find themselves reunited in California once again, the land they can't seem to handle yet the land they can't seem to give up....
"Where are we again, Bam?" Tamara asked, a pensive look on her face as she studied the map of north-central California spread out across of Mercy's Bronco. Gathered around were the old Scout leaders from their days back East at Rikers Island - Tamara, Bam, Knoxville, Pontius, Ehren - along with lead survivors from the former 77th Street stronghold in South Los Angeles - Alex, Kelsey, Jenna, Piers - plus Stephanie's small group of survivors who'd become Tamara's Protectors, a duty they all took seriously.
For Tamara's group, Mountain Home AFB had been a welcome reprieve but it didn't give any of her group the satisfaction of a permanent home; to all of them, the Scouts were their home and like the last of Xenophon's Ten Thousand, they had yet to find a place they could truly call home and after losing both Rikers Island and San Simeon, it was all Tamara could do to not pull the plug on the whole thing....I'm not a quitter, though..never have been, never will be now, she thought as she thought of her son Tyler Archer-Lyell and Sarah's two daughters, Rayne and Keirsten Lyell-Haru, and they gave her the impetus to keep going. Tyler was already 3 years old - I wish you could see him now, Peach, she mused, thinking about her late wife Julie Archer-Lyell...and her two nieces Rayne and Keirsten were a year old and already acting like a couple of Lyell siblings she knew, she mused with a brief smile. At the same time, she'd found the wreckage of several aircraft and helicopters outside Boise and was shocked to discover the bodies of a couple of her pilots, including the Viking, inside. Although she hated to have done so, she'd put a bullet in everyone's heads as a precaution before moving along, leaving them where they lay...it'd grieved her to do so; she'd cried for a couple nights, remembering all the times, good and bad, her and the Viking had enjoyed. Now I know how Lee felt losing Stonewall Jackson, she mused at times since, but she'd long learned to deal with loss. It was the way of the world.
"We're just north of Lakeport, here," Bam replied, tapping the small town on the map with his finger, "and those signals we keep picking up are coming from here...a place called Lampson Field," tapping the airfield a few times as well. "We keep to the highway here, California 29...we can reach the airfield later today, maybe use it as a base of operations." Bam left the thought hanging in the air; their recent experiences with airfields of any kind wasn't too sterling as of late.
Pursing her lips in a wry expression of "what have we got to lose?", Tamara nodded and said, "Then that's where we'll head," motioning for everyone to mount up. "Lampson Field, everyone; that's our next objective."
"Where are we again, Bam?" Tamara asked, a pensive look on her face as she studied the map of north-central California spread out across of Mercy's Bronco. Gathered around were the old Scout leaders from their days back East at Rikers Island - Tamara, Bam, Knoxville, Pontius, Ehren - along with lead survivors from the former 77th Street stronghold in South Los Angeles - Alex, Kelsey, Jenna, Piers - plus Stephanie's small group of survivors who'd become Tamara's Protectors, a duty they all took seriously.
For Tamara's group, Mountain Home AFB had been a welcome reprieve but it didn't give any of her group the satisfaction of a permanent home; to all of them, the Scouts were their home and like the last of Xenophon's Ten Thousand, they had yet to find a place they could truly call home and after losing both Rikers Island and San Simeon, it was all Tamara could do to not pull the plug on the whole thing....I'm not a quitter, though..never have been, never will be now, she thought as she thought of her son Tyler Archer-Lyell and Sarah's two daughters, Rayne and Keirsten Lyell-Haru, and they gave her the impetus to keep going. Tyler was already 3 years old - I wish you could see him now, Peach, she mused, thinking about her late wife Julie Archer-Lyell...and her two nieces Rayne and Keirsten were a year old and already acting like a couple of Lyell siblings she knew, she mused with a brief smile. At the same time, she'd found the wreckage of several aircraft and helicopters outside Boise and was shocked to discover the bodies of a couple of her pilots, including the Viking, inside. Although she hated to have done so, she'd put a bullet in everyone's heads as a precaution before moving along, leaving them where they lay...it'd grieved her to do so; she'd cried for a couple nights, remembering all the times, good and bad, her and the Viking had enjoyed. Now I know how Lee felt losing Stonewall Jackson, she mused at times since, but she'd long learned to deal with loss. It was the way of the world.
"We're just north of Lakeport, here," Bam replied, tapping the small town on the map with his finger, "and those signals we keep picking up are coming from here...a place called Lampson Field," tapping the airfield a few times as well. "We keep to the highway here, California 29...we can reach the airfield later today, maybe use it as a base of operations." Bam left the thought hanging in the air; their recent experiences with airfields of any kind wasn't too sterling as of late.
Pursing her lips in a wry expression of "what have we got to lose?", Tamara nodded and said, "Then that's where we'll head," motioning for everyone to mount up. "Lampson Field, everyone; that's our next objective."