The Raven's Gift - Don Rearden [90]
Red laid out a blanket on the cot, took an extra pillow from beneath the bed, and then stood by the small screen and took one last look at the images from the surveillance cameras.
“I still have a hard time believing that you have that system working, when there isn’t power anywhere else around here,” John said.
“Well, isn’t much to it. As long as the wind blows, which it always does, and the turbines keep working and charging the batteries, I’ll have my security system and my heat. What I should have invested in was a shortwave radio. Kilbuck Elementary had one a while back, but of course someone torched that place, like most everything else.”
John pointed to the AM/FM radio sitting on the counter. “You pick up anything with that?”
Red reached over to the radio and flipped it on. He hit the scan button and turned the volume up. From the bed, John could see the digital numbers scrolling through the AM stations. Nothing but static.
“For the first few months I did this every night. Scanned all the frequencies. Back before all this flu shit, on clear nights we could get stations from Russia, Korea—hell, all over. Now there’s nothing. But watch this. Watch how it hits some numbers and pauses—like there is a signal there. See that, 650? That’s KENI, an Anchorage station. It pauses for a split second and goes on. But when it passes over 640, the local station, nothing. I don’t know what it means. Might just be crazy me thinking it’s something, but hearing about this hunter character only makes me wonder that much more. No one would be out skiing. Why would they send one guy? Makes no sense.”
He turned the radio off, flipped off the light, and settled into his cot. Then he said, “We both know that KYUK quit broadcasting when the power went out. To me it’s like there are stations out there, but we can’t get them. My guess is they’re being scrambled.”
Rayna sat up and turned to Red. “Why would they want to keep us from getting radio?” she asked.
“I don’t know if that’s what they’re doing, honey, but could be that this whole region is under a complete communication shadow. Nothing in or out. A no-fly zone to boot. I’m sure you’ve also noticed the lack of contrails from commercial jets, John? This whole frozen countryside is no-man’s land.”
“I don’t buy it, Red. How do you answer for all of the friends and family and relatives outside who would want to know what’s going on?”
Red coughed and turned his back on them. “I’m just telling you what I think,” he said. “Believe what you want. Whatever helps you get through the day, buddy. But I’ll tell you this: no one listened to those friends and families when they talked about conditions here before the outbreak. There are populations in this world who are the expendable people in the eyes of all governments. I know none of this for sure, but then again, don’t really matter much if I’m wrong now, does it?”
John rested on his back with his eyes open and staring at the white insulated ceiling. The girl reached beneath the covers for his hand. She grabbed hold of it, turned toward him, and pressed it to her chest. She held his hand there and squeezed.
“Do you think he’s right?” she whispered.
“I hope not,” he answered.
“John, we have to find them before the hunter does.”
IT TOOK SIX HOURS from the time the lights blinked out until Anna and John could see their breath. They huddled beneath every blanket they had. Both of them had runny noses, and he couldn’t convince her it was just a reaction to the cold and not the actual flu.
“I’m starting to feel warm. Too warm,” she said, just barely sticking her head out from under the covers.
“You’re making yourself sick,” he said. “I’m sure the power will come back on soon enough.”
They heard the sound of a snow machine pulling up to their house. The machine stopped, the engine continued to idle, and the house shook slightly as someone ran up the steps.