Farewell to JD

Perhaps because his handover would be complete after tonight, or perhaps because he had been alone too long without anyone to talk to, JD was a little long-winded as he told Nick everything he could think of. They talked until two in the morning.

They finished discussing the monsters in the canyon right at the start, because JD had never even seen the so-called "Hollow Men" himself during his year there.

During his year on duty, the defensive weapons scattered along both sides of the canyon had been triggered only once. Two suspended proximity mines had exploded, and everything had fallen silent again before the automated close-in guns even had a chance to fire.

Still, JD reminded Nick to watch the area beneath his feet where the iron fence stood-directly below the watchtower. Supposedly, the cliff was easiest to climb there. He could leave the other areas to the automated close-in guns. This, too, was advice passed down by his predecessors.

There were also the "big ears," which looked like radar antennas, spaced a kilometer apart, with eight on each side.

These Satellite Shielding Equipment were extremely important, the key to keeping the canyon out of sight of every country's satellites. If all of them failed, or if the watchtower fell, something called the "Stray Dog Program" would be activated.

When that happened, the old air-raid siren on the watchtower would sound. JD advised Nick to run as far as he could the moment he heard it.

JD did not know exactly what the "Stray Dog Program" was either, but a little thought made it obvious that it was some kind of final measure, perhaps a ballistic missile flying in from somewhere.

Besides this crucial information, the exceptionally helpful Black British fellow also shared plenty of interesting information, or rather, tips on living there.

For instance, winter temperatures could drop to around twenty below zero, so Nick needed to stock up on firewood. Right now was the season when herds of deer appeared, and the wild rabbits were at their plumpest.

Large carnivores rarely appeared nearby, but he needed to watch out for lynxes. These little leopard-like cats would attack people when desperately hungry.

Another example was the fast-flowing stream three kilometers away. Following it south would lead to a waterfall, and between October and November, he could easily catch migrating sturgeon upstream of it.

Some of these survival tips had been passed down by word of mouth through generations of predecessors, while others were JD's own discoveries.

Before leaving early the next morning, he even solemnly dug a homemade still out of the bunker's armory and handed it to Nick along with a liquor recipe.

Potato Vodka. Supposedly, it was a secret recipe passed down from either the fifth or seventh man stationed there. In all seriousness, JD asked Nick to pass it on even if he did not drink it himself.

Early the next morning, beneath the watchtower.

"Take care." Nick smiled as he shook hands with JD. "Have a safe trip."

Though this uncommon Black Brit was a little too talkative and a terrible cook, he really was a helpful, decent man.

"Good luck to you too, mate." With his pack on his back, JD said goodbye to Nick, then turned and quickly disappeared into the woods. He needed to reach the designated location within twenty-four hours, where a helicopter would supposedly pick him up.

Nick, meanwhile, would have three days to compile and submit a list of the supplies he would need for the coming year. A special supply airdrop would arrive a week later.

Each watchtower keeper had only one such opportunity, with the airdrop limited to one metric ton. Some of the modern electrical appliances currently in the watchtower, such as the refrigerator and washing machine, had arrived this way.

Radios and televisions were out of the question, of course. Even if supplied, they would get no reception here. Thanks to the "big ears," not only was there severe radio interference around the canyon-only encrypted military shortwave radios could be used-but there was no satellite signal either.

On the last day of every month, Nick had to make a routine report over the shortwave radio. Apart from that, all forms of outside communication were prohibited at all times.

After JD left, Nick first took a look around the armory inside the bunker, and his jaw nearly dropped at the quantity of weapons and ammunition stored there.

There were over a thousand spare barrels alone for the six-barreled Gatling Miniguns used in the close-in gun emplacements, all neatly wrapped in German oilpaper.

The largest ammunition stockpile was also for these machine guns: 7.62 mm rounds. Next came the 12.7 mm ammunition for the "Lao Gan Ma."

The 5.56 mm rounds were actually the least numerous, but by Nick's rough count, there should still have been at least a hundred thousand.

Compared with the ammunition stockpiles, the variety and number of firearms were relatively limited. Apart from a few classic AR-pattern automatic rifles, Nick found only a pile of "Lao Gan Ma" spare parts and two Barrett sniper rifle models, one old and one new.

Beyond those were assorted tools, explosives, spare parts for repairs, high-grade C100 cement, and even grenade launchers and parachute packs.

Although the watchtower already had two "Lao Gan Ma" machine guns available, Nick still carried up a newer-model Barrett M107.

After all, he still bore the title of a world-class sniper in this world. Besides, he really had never tried the famous Barrett and wanted to get his hands on it when he had some free time.

As it turned out, Nick found no time to try the Barrett over the next week or so, because he had far too much to do.

First came the daily patrols. During the first few days, inspecting and maintaining the automated gun emplacements and the "big ears" alone took up a great deal of his time.

Although all this equipment had relatively comprehensive self-diagnostic functions, much of the maintenance still had to be done by hand, such as removing rust from and oiling the drive mechanisms, or replacing wear-prone parts like the cameras' light-sensitive components.

These maintenance tasks were not actually on the daily patrol checklist. Nick simply wanted to use them as a way to determine the exact strength of the defensive deployment on the canyon's western side.

He had yet to figure out how to complete the main mission of saving the world, but judging from the clues currently available, it most likely had something to do with the so-called "Hollow Men" in the canyon.

The term "Hollow Men" came from a poem by the British poet Thomas Eliot, written after the First World War.

Nick disliked this sort of bleak literature and had only a very superficial understanding of the poem.

He could roughly guess that Captain Bradford Shaw, the first man stationed here, had probably named the monsters after it to describe some quality that made them seem human yet not human.

What puzzled Nick, however, was that the canyon's defensive firepower was not particularly strong.

Both sides combined had only twenty-four Gatling close-in guns, some Suspended Sensor Mines converted from naval mines, and the two watchtowers to the east and west. These defenses alone had maintained peace for more than seventy years.

Although the sheer cliffs rising hundreds of meters on either side of the canyon were themselves a terrain advantage, this also meant that the monsters called "Hollow Men" could easily be destroyed by modern weapons fire.