The Search by Darrell Maloney

Air Force people?”
         “No. The Air Force people are all gone. The Air Force closed the base right after Saris 7 hit the earth. They said they couldn’t operate it in constant below zero temperatures, and there was no need to anyway. That the threat was no longer communism or Russia or China. The new threat was surviving the cold itself.
         “So they abandoned it. Just left all of their airplanes on the tarmac and boogied. The Air Force people were given their walking papers, and most of them went back to their hometowns to be with their extended families. A couple of hundred stuck it out with us, but most of them didn’t make it. Out of our current population now, maybe a dozen or so are Air Force people.”
         “Why did you all move onto the base, if you don’t mind me asking?”
         “It makes security easier. They were already set up to be secure, with high chain link fences topped with barbed wire. All the gates have guard shacks with heaters so our sentries didn’t have to freeze to death. It was actually the mayor’s idea. He moved into the house of the general who used to command the base. Nice house. I’ll tell you what, those generals lived large by military standards.
         “Anyway, the enlisted housing was only so-so, but most of the officers’ houses had fireplaces and were well insulated. So that’s where most of us are living.”
         “Does anyone ever leave the base?”
         “Oh, yes. Every day. Five of us are still police officers and still keep an eye on the city. Mostly to keep an eye on who’s coming and going and to protect the stragglers and workers. You see, there are nine people who rejected the idea of moving onto the base. Mostly old people who were comfortable where they were. So we helped them fortify their homes and make sure they have enough fuel oil or firewood, and take them food and water and whatever else they need.
         “And then we have people who tend to our crops. We’ve turned several of the city parks into farmland and grow food there in the warm weather months.
         “We have other crews who are gatherers. People go to them and say, ‘I need a new microwave, or my kid needs a size 12 coat.’ And the gatherers will get everybody’s requests and look through the abandoned stores and houses in the city to try to find them. That keeps six of our people busy on a full time basis.
         “Others, the ones with the strongest stomachs, collect what’s left of the bodies. Most of them are just bones now, but they gather them and bury them in mass graves and say a prayer over them.
         “And lastly, we have a crew who has started to clear the roadways. It’s a long process. They have to drag each vehicle as far as a mile until they can find a section of the shoulder that’s clear. Then they simply use a bulldozer to roll it off the road.
         “It’s a very long and very slow process, but they should have Highway 87 north of town open within a month or so. Unfortunately for you guys, they started on the north end of town. You guys came from the south. It’ll be at least a year, maybe two, before they get that end cleared.”
         “So this clinic… It’s set up mainly to support your people who are in town working, and who get sick or injured on the job?”
         “Exactly. And the stragglers. And occasionally people like you guys who may just wander into town in need of medical care. Or looking for lost loved ones.”
         As if on cue, Stacey returned from the back of the building.
         “I’m afraid the news is mixed. I was hoping and praying that I’d find a hospital who had your wife, and could report that she’s in good shape and was asking for you. But I’m afraid none of the places I called has seen her.
         “That’s the bad news.
         “The good news is, I’ve ruled out several places for you, so you don’t have to waste your time going there.