Never Give Up

Posted on Thu May 18th, 2023 @ 1:29am by Hale Stratton

1,838 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Bangor or Bust
Location: Olaffson Residence
Timeline: 25 AUG 2010 - 6:10 p.m.

Victoire drove the Nissan Armada that was stored in a shed at Bangor International for when the family was in the states for the summers (and that she drove when she was stationed stateside) into Millinocket town square and then through up into the hills behind the town; her parents home wasn't far outside of town but it was just far enough to be quiet and usually peaceful and to have a nice view of the town during the festival too, at least from its second story balcony.

She found the gravel drive easy enough and pulled onto it, taking a deep breath; not having even noticed that she had been holding her own breath as she drove through town and for some reason she couldn't even begin to fathom. There was a manila envelope that held a copy of several case files as well as research notes on all of them and then there was a black file inside with them all on some sort of new infection that she had 'stolen' a copy of from the Haukeland University Hospital before she left Norway. As she pulled to a stop outside the garage and waited for the garage door to open she looked at that envelope for a long moment and then to the Malinois that was in the back seat passed completely out and she reached out and patted his head, whispering.

"You are a good boy, Jasper. I'm sorry that mom and dad are gone and you are stuck with me... but I'll do my best to take care of you bud"

As she turned back around the garage door finished opening and she pulled into the garage, pressing the button to close the door behind her and then she sat there for a long quiet moment before pulling out her phone and browsing through her contacts before calling her brothers number. 'Wonder if its even the right number...'

She left him a voicemail about their parents death and then snapped the phone shut, looking at it in her hands with a small tremor in her hands that she couldn't quite discern whether it was fear, anger, or something else entirely.

After a few more minutes she stepped out of the car; going around it to let Jasper out and then walked into the house with him and she carried her laptop to the second story where the kitchen was and set it up there; thanking Thor that it was encrypted and had a long lasting battery that was fully charged, she sat down at the table.

The note, written in a familiar scrawl on equally familiar flowered paper, was lying on the table. "Ansel, would you mind checking the water supply for the shelter? I'm pretty sure it needs to be changed out. Money's in the envelope along with the security code. Thanks. We'll see you when we get back!" And beside the note was an envelope, already torn open and emptied.

“Damnit! I forgot about Ansel…. Damned creep!” She grumbled to Jasper, loosening the K-Bar at her belt in its sheathe. “I don’t hear him here in the house… do you boy?”

The house had the smell of a place that had been closed up for awhile, a mixture of stale air and a fine layer of dust coating most of the surfaces. There were no sounds coming from elsewhere in the house. And so, the dog after raising his head at the sound of his name, settled back down to sleep.

Chuckled at Jasper for a moment and shook her head; knowing full well that with his training if there was something wrong in the house he’d have alerted to it but she decided to do a quick check of the rooms anyway; just to see what the status of the house was. She kept herself in a guarded stance and headed to the back of the house, entering the room that she usually stayed in while the family was in town and standing in the doorway for a moment while her eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the heavy curtains over the windows; once they had she looked around the room to take stock of what was here, not expecting much to have changed from the previous year.

At first glance, the room was the same as it had ever been though, upon closer inspection, the top drawer of the dresser was not quite closed and the door to the closet stood ever so slightly ajar.

She kept a hand on her knife; stepping silently to the desk while keeping a wary eye on that closet door and carefully opened the drawer of her desk the remainder of the door, giving it a visual inspection to see what had been removed from the drawer. The hair on the back of her neck raised; the entire situation seeming not quite right and some odd suspicion telling her that Ansel's absence might be due to the same thing that had taken her parents.

The contents gave evidence of a search, a pattern that would be repeated in other rooms of the house. Drawers and closets searched. Pictures slightly out of place. In the dining room an antique silver coffee service had been removed and in the study, a rare coins collection was also gone.

Once she got back to the kitchen and had a full count of what all was missing she slammed her palm on the counter. "That bastard! I always knew he was a useless scumbag!" her gaze found the note her mom had left for Ansel again and her eyes widened and she sprinted out the side door of the house into the backyard, heading for the cellar door that concealed the underground bunker that sat beneath the house in case of a nuclear scenario. Ansel had better hope I don't find him... or I swear to all that is holy under Odin!

The entry had been sealed, which leant a brief moment's hope, but that faded quickly once inside. All gone. Years of painstaking work undone by a raider's greed. The bunker, once meticulously organized and fully stocked, had been systematically stripped of anything remotely valuable and even that which had been most valuable -- her parent's strongbox containing the gold they had been slowly gathering over a number of years on the premise that paper currency would be useless. All that remained were the furnishings that had been bolted into place, bunks, a work bench, a desk.

Headed for the desk and reached under it; placing her hand over the inbuilt biometric scanner with baited breath, waiting for the tell-tale click that would reveal the document box it was attached to as unlocked. This was the one thing she had ensured that Ansel wouldn't have access to and though it had nothing of actual value contained within her heart skipped a beat while she listened for the unlock.

A mystery that lock and its purpose; certainly, those who had prepared the shelter had no reason to suspect treachery from within and yet, its contents had been protected above everything else. But there it was and mercifully, remained untouched as it had been set back from the edge far enough to go unnoticed.

Released her breath in a shaky sigh; taking a manila envelope from the secure box first; opening it to find that the photos and old family records it held were still there and intact, after briefly going through them she reached back into the wooden box and searched it for a moment seeking the square Norwegian Army dog tags that had been worn by her father during his years in the service.

Emptied now except for one thing more -- an antique silver necklace, passed down through the generations, and within, pictures of her parents.

She gave a sigh and secured the necklace round her neck, tucking it beneath the undershirt that was the base layer for her uniform and then she looked through the pictures, a bit of nostalgia settling over her for a minute though she refused to let herself cry... "now isn't the time Vic... 'sides, Daddy wouldn't want you to mourn but to celebrate and honor his life"

After a moment she tucked the pictures into one of the folders in her A-Bag and then resecured everything, ensuring the lockbox under the desk was re-locked and then she closed the bunker up and went to check the generator that powered the house to ensure that if things went to shit while she was quarantining from her travels to the states that she would hopefully have power for creature comforts.

There were signs, if one took the time to look, scratches and tool marks, but the generator was still where it had always been.

Paused, spotting the tool marks and carefully inspecting the generator; ensuring that she took the time to be extra thorough with everything else she had found so far. Just lovely.... y'know what. I hope I do see him again. At least then I can make the bastard pay.

In the world of preppers, Ansel would be known as a a raider and he was, in point of fact, a good one. And with the profits from his raids, sold to other preppers who weren't so fastidious about where stuff came from, he had more than enough to have set up his own shelter in a remote area far, far from the Eastern Coast. As luck would have it, that's where Ansel was when the virus hit but what happened to him, well, that's another story.

She finished her inspection and hooked the generator up to its fuel sources, ensuring first that the large propane tanks that fueled the generator for the house actually had fuel in it. Once she had checked the connections and then rechecked them twice she hit the switch for it, crossing her fingers and begging the gods to give her this one piece of luck today.

The generator sprang to life, as if an answer to her prayers, though the gauge read only a quarter full. One of those things on a to do list that was buried along with the house's former occupants.

Shook her head and pressed the STOP button then flipped the switch back to the neutral position and closed the cover over it before heading back to the house and kneeling down to pet Jasper.

"Well; I always told them that Ansel was bad news... we've got nothing if shit hits the fan bud; but at least the generator for the house works... and it will long enough for us to quarantine but then we'll have to find somewhere... and something new. But for now... for now I think its time for a meal and a shower, whaddya think?"

"Woof."

 

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