Clear Water, Hidden Danger

Chapter 56 – Clearing the Corridor

The LCC doors were propped open, fresh sunlight cutting across the concrete floor as the last of the IBF filtered inside. Eighteen of them. My people made up the rest: Neal, Wolf, Hawk, Hike, Brown, Burns, Blyth, Frizzell, Morales, Stacks. The same ten-person spider team from yesterday, still bruised but steady.

I stepped to the folding table where the map was spread out. Every red square marked the pockets on 36th Street that Hawk and I woke up days ago when we fled the 3000. Blocks we’d never touched before. Blocks that had been dead silent for three months until my resonance passed through them for the first time.

“These are not remnants,” I said. “This is a fresh horde. Everything from Joann down to Lookingglass activated the moment we drove through. We stirred the whole damn corridor on the way back to CWP.”

Neal folded her arms. “Estimate?”

“Four hundred to five hundred total,” I said. “Not the 3000. These were already here, dormant, waiting. We woke them up in route to the CWP that day.”

No shock. No panic. Just acceptance.

“They won’t come out all at once,” I continued. “Street layouts will split them. But once we go up 36th, they’ll converge behind us. Every pocket spills at once.”

Wolf nodded. “Controlled draw.”

“Exactly.”

I pointed to Rising View.

“We drive straight up 36th. Don’t stop. Resonance pulls everything behind us. We hold at Rising View, let them flood the field, and drop them in waves.”

Hawk tapped the widened stretch of pavement. “That’s the kill box.”

“Right there,” I said. “Not Blackhawk. Blackhawk is already sterile.”

Neal gestured to the IBF. “Once the corridor is clear, you go straight to the 36th Street mansions. RJ sweeps first. You clear interiors. Same spray-paint system.”

“Numbers for clean, X for condemned,” I said.

Stacks nodded. “Same as Tammy.”

I keyed the radio.

“This is Anchor to NLC command.”

Static. Then Captain Bilew-Jackson’s voice:

“Go ahead, Anchor.”

“We’re clearing the entire 36th corridor today. We’re going to need ten of your military personnel to assist. We’ll intercept anything bleeding off the 3000 and stabilize the area.”

“Acknowledged,” she replied. “Major Jackson is prepping the roster. We will mobilize and be at your 20 in less than 10. Copy?”

“Copy.”

I slid the radio into its pouch.

“When we head up 36th,” I said, “it’s going to get loud. Every street between Joann and Lookingglass is going to empty. You stay clipped in. The spider doesn’t break.”

Outside, a distant diesel rumble grew louder. It wasn’t close. Not yet. The sound rolled up the street like a approaching storm.

Neal tilted her head. “That better not be what I think it is.”

The engines rounded the corner — heavy, military-grade, unmistakable — and two silhouettes crossed the LCC windows.

Humvees.

Actual Humvees.

We all stepped outside as the engines died down.

Major Jackson climbed out of the lead vehicle, a green M1038A1 troop carrier. Captain Bilew-Jackson stepped out of the second, an M997 ambulance variant. Both looked like this was the most normal drop-off in the world.

I stared at the Humvees. Then at Jackson.

“You’re telling me,” I said slowly, “that while Hawk and I were hauling ass in a half-dead pickup truck… you had THESE the whole damn time?”

Bilew-Jackson exhaled, bracing for the smoke.

“It was need-to-know.”

“Really,” I said, “I needed to know the second we almost died in trucks built during the Clinton administration, and you’re sitting on these like they’re collector’s items?”

She held up her hands. “We didn’t want to flex too early.”

“Flex?” I said. “Ma’am, we were out there praying the transmission didn’t fall out the bottom.”

Jackson simply nodded toward the troop carrier.

“Ten soldiers. Fully equipped. They’re yours for the entirety of the 36th Street corridor operation.”

The back doors opened. Ten NLC soldiers stepped out, geared, ready, and sharp.

Captain Deacon approached. “Command says we’re assigned to your strike rotation.”

“Then you’ll be sticking close,” I said. “Inside my resonance field close.”

Jackson gestured between the vehicles.

“The troop carrier will shadow your MCU. Right beside you the entire time. Both lanes if necessary. Same speed. Never more than ten to fifteen feet from your position.”

That was perfect. Everyone in the Humvee would stay inside the thirty-foot radius.

“And the second Humvee?” I asked.

“The ambulance heads back to NLC,” Bilew-Jackson said. “We need it for medical transport. But the troop carrier stays with you for swaps.”

Neal ran a hand along the armored panel.

“We keep the MCU for the spider,” she said.

“Correct,” I answered. “The Humvee stays parallel. No drifting. No straying.”

Burns smirked. “Look at us running a convoy.”

Jackson gave a final nod. “Clear your corridor. We’ll stay on comms.”

The ambulance Humvee pulled away, leaving the troop carrier and its ten soldiers behind.

Twenty operators total.

Ten in the spider.

Ten in rotation beside us.

And 36th Street was no longer a problem.

It was a mission with an outcome already decided.

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ANONYMOUS FIELD LOG — ENTRY ALPHA
CLASSIFIED — PROJECT ECHO CLEARANCE REQUIRED:

CWP monitored open-band chatter as Anchor convened internal briefing inside the LifeCircle Church staging area. Radio cross-traffic indicated multiple dormant pockets on 36th Street activated during Anchor’s prior emergency transit. Estimated four hundred to five hundred Phase III distributed across Joann to Lookingglass. No direct visual confirmation inside CWP perimeter. IBF members identified as stable and operational. NLC request logged for ten military personnel; engine signatures of incoming Humvees heard briefly through open south doors. All intel gathered from ambient comms, distance-muffled briefings, and street-level noise bleed. Anchor preparing controlled-draw maneuver up 36th to Rising View, intent to collapse corridor pockets into kill-zone formation. CWP units remain unaware of full operational calculus.

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ANONYMOUS FIELD LOG — ENTRY BRAVO
CLASSIFIED — PROJECT ECHO CLEARANCE REQUIRED:

NLC intercepted fragments of Anchor-side planning via convoy coordination channel. Major Jackson authorized ten-soldier detachment and dispatched one M1038A1 troop carrier to CWP staging point; return engine noise from M997 confirmed en route to NLC. Passing traffic noted Anchor’s emphasis on resonance-field containment; NLC soldiers instructed to maintain ten-to-fifteen-foot parallel spacing. Additional comms hinted at corridor sweep extending from Joann to Lookingglass, with Anchor estimating four hundred to five hundred Phase III already shifting in the region. Internal NLC prep teams catalogued risk of secondary bleed-off toward east neighborhoods. Facility remains stable; no Phase III presence detected near perimeter. Tower spotters instructed to maintain near-continuous auditory sweeps.