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ride.
    Well, I didn’t want to go visit OKC. Neither did my friends, but before we could speak, Vanderpool explained the rest of the plan. We would be rolling with the convoy down Interstate 40—the route they’d driven to get here—until reaching the exit for Highway 69. There, we would be met by a contingent of soldiers from the McAlester command who would see to our safety on to the city.
    “So, what do they get out of the deal?”
    Amy’s question caught the other men in the room off guard. She’d been quiet up until now, and her silence was taken by some, no doubt, as a lack of interest in the “grown up” talk. Of course, they didn’t know her like I did. Amy Landon was smart, darned smart, and I made sure never to forget.
    “Well, ah, miss,” Captain Vanderpool temporized, “they will be acting under orders, of course.”
    “Yes, but with their manpower shortage and the expenditure of fuel and resources, I would suspect there would be something to sweeten the pot for this Captain Bisley.”
    “You are correct, Miss Landon,” Colonel Hotchkins said, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. I think he was pleasantly surprised by the astute question. “They will be taking possession of eight sets of replacement parts that Master Sergeant Warnecke believes will get at least some of their Bradley Fighting Vehicles back on the road.”
    Ah. Some things were coming clear. Our work in getting those beasts back up and running was also a survey of the damage caused by the pulse. I knew the master sergeant kept meticulous notes on what worked and what didn’t while we pulled and replaced certain modules. If he hadn’t written the book before, I’d bet he would be up to writing at least a few chapters now.
    I didn’t know how many more Bradleys the Arkansas Guard had in reserve, but if they were willing to let go of even some replacement parts, then the store house for their electronics must have been at least somewhat EMP resistant. I wondered if that was by accident or design. Given the age of these structures, I’m going with divine intervention. Either way, if the Guard thought they would need armored fighting vehicles with 25mm cannons, then Colonel Hotchkins must be thinking the urban masses were almost ready to storm the battlements.
    The cold facts could not be disputed. We didn’t have enough food or transportation to support the cities—not Chicago, or St. Louis, or Fort Smith, or Little Rock.
    I’m sure the swarms out of Houston and Dallas had already overtaken the sprawling suburban areas around them back in Texas. I worried about the hordes streaming out of Dallas/Ft. Worth. That metro area of several million would overwhelm and consume everything—and everybody—for at least a hundred miles in every direction. My father and his friends had their plans for such an eventuality, but could they hold out in the long term? More than ever, I felt the urgent need to get home.
    I had built up some credit with the National Guard units here in Arkansas and I planned to make use of that credit in the little time we had left. As the officers and Sergeant Halloran continued to make plans, I sat and made my own. I caught Amy watching me and offered her a little smile. She could tell the gears were spinning in my head and I felt her hand grasp mine under the table. Tonight, when were back in our bunk, I would share my thoughts with her and see what we could come up with together.

 
    CHAPTER FIVE
    Dawn came painfully early this morning as I pushed the plans in my head aside and got busy with the daily ritual. Amy and I had whispered together for over an hour, piecing together and discarding propositions much like the colonel, his executive officer, and the Oklahoma Guard personnel had done in our meeting. In fact, Hotchkins probably would have laughed at hearing some of his own points echoed back by Amy later as she lay next to me in our bed.
    Funny, no one seemed shocked that Amy and I now shared a