Tales from the Conduit: The Conduit Saga

To all of my friends who have encouraged me to keep writing.  Thanks for the votes of confidence!  I love you all.

FOREWORD

Hello readers!  If you are picking up this book, it is probably because you were fans of the Conduit Trilogy.  If you didn’t read the trilogy, that fine.  Just a warning that some of the stories tie directly into the books that preceded this one. 

It’s been about a four-year journey for me to finish the trilogy.  Full disclosure though, the first book took three of those years.  After that, the last two books almost wrote themselves. 

Once I finished, I realized that I wanted to give some of the characters that I created more closure than I had in the first three books.  I wanted to give them an ending and along the way, I created a few new characters as well.

I hope you enjoy this collection of short stories.  I tried to mix some humor, horror, and silliness into different tales to get a feel for a more diverse set.  I cannot say this is the end for my Conduit Universe.  I have more in my head.  Maybe, see what the rest of the world was up to before and during the Burn?  Who knows?  Maybe someday.  For now, enjoy what I have thought up in Tales of the Conduit!

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Mr. Willy’s Traveling Band

Beware of BIGTrat

Trainee Sam Houston’s first mission

Is anyone out there?

Welcome to Big D

6 hours

Memphis Blues

Operation: Doghunt

The hatch

E-Day

Mr. Willy’s Traveling Band

Whose idea was this again?!  Sampson yelled as he continued to pace the cell. 

For the hundredth time, it’s nobody fault, Sampson.  Mack said as he sat on the floor.

Like hell it isn’t!  Sampson declared.

You are going to walk a hole in the floor.  Felix said from one of the cots in the room.

Mack put his head between his knees as he sat on the floor.  He thought to himself, How did we get here?

Mackenzie Mack Mozart Bowen was born and raised in the pod of Saint Paul.  He was the third born of five children to Milton and Cynthia Bowen.  Both of his parents worked in the energy production facilities in Saint Paul.  That was their day jobs.  But at night, the magic happened in their homes.  The family would finish dinner and then the music started. 

Mack came from a long line of musicians.  His father, Milton was what was considered, classically trained.  He could play pretty much any string instrument and a piano.  His mother Cynthia was a master of the brass, in particular, the trumpet.  Mack and all of his siblings grew up in a household full of music; it was only natural that they would all end up playing instruments as well.

The Bowens became pretty well known around St. Paul.  The whole family would join concerts around the pod, usually on holidays.  Everyone played different instruments and they became a staple of the music scene.

Mack was always curious where all of the instruments in his home came from.  They had pretty much every instrument Mack could think of that they stored in the extra room in their house.  All three boys had to bunk together in one room and their two sisters had to share a room but a perfectly good room was reserved just for the family instruments.  Luckily, all of the siblings were close in age.  There was only six years difference between Mack’s oldest brother and his youngest sister.

Once Mack asked his parents how they got their instruments.  According to his dad, the instruments had been passed down over generations.  Most of the instruments came from Before the Burn.  One of their ancestors was a wealthy individual obsessed with music.  According to family legend, the ancestor couldn’t stand the thought of losing all of this music to the burning of the surface, so he spent millions of dollars to bring the instruments down with him. 

Originally, the instruments were put on display in a place called a museum.  This was a place where people could come and marvel at these old relics.  Milton laughed when he told Mack that the museum only lasted a few years before the whole family wanted to play the instruments again.

After that, the instruments became a household staple.  His mom Cynthia always joked that she only married his dad because of how talented he was on a piano.  The whole family would laugh, but Mack figured there was probably a lot of truth in that story.  That made him love his mother that much more.

Mack was probably the most talented of his siblings.  He could play a guitar well, was competent on the piano when his dad needed a break, but his true talent was the trumpet, just like his mother.  When music wasn’t being played by the people in the house, it played on an ancient device called a record player. 

Mack would listen to those plastic circles for hours.  In particular, he loved jazz.  So, he took up his mom’s instrument of choice and practiced endlessly.  By the time Mack was fourteen, he was better than his siblings and was closing in on his mother, at least in his mind. 

One night the Bowen Family played a festival in St. Paul and they had a nice crowd.  Their set ended and they were moving back to the crowd to watch the rest of the show.  At some point, Cynthia asked Mack to take his youngest sister back to buy a drink from the concession stand.  As Mack stood in line with his little sister, two men approached him.

One was quite elderly.  Wrinkled and gray, the man wore his experience on his face like a map.  The other was young, just a few years older than Mack.

The younger man cleared his throat and said,

That was quite the trumpet playing up there from someone so young!

Mack looked at the two men, both of whom had smiles plastered on their faces.

Thanks.  Mack said.

You ever thought about playing that horn as a job?  The young man asked.

Mack looked at the two again with a puzzled look.

Who are you exactly?  He asked.

Where are my manners?  My name is Winston and this is Mr. Willy.  We are a traveling band and are looking for a new trumpet player to round out our group.  The younger man replied.

Mack smiled,

Ah ... thanks guys.  I’m pretty sure my family would say no to that request. 

Maybe.  But, are you interested?  Even if they were to say no?  Winston asked.

I’m just a couple of years away from having to go to work in the energy facility.  Would I love to play my trumpet as a job?  Absolutely!  But jobs like that don’t exist.

Mack saw the older man finally do something other than smile.  Mr. Willy took his cane and banged it on the ground twice.  He then nodded vigorously at Mack. 

Thanks for the offer guys.  I just don’t think it’s going to happen. 

By this point Mack’s little sister had her drink and he nodded at the two men and made his way back to the family.  Mack enjoyed the rest of the concert and then went home with his family.  He crawled into his bed but couldn’t sleep.  His earlier conversation rolled through his mind all night.

Mack arose the next morning, groggy from his lack of sleep.  He stumbled down the stairs of his home towards the kitchen and the smells of breakfast.  He rounded the corner into the breakfast area and came to a halt.  Sitting at the kitchen table was his father and the two men from the night before.  They were laughing and carrying on like old friends. 

Milton, you know the routine.  We travel and play for eleven months, then one month off for ... Ah, the young man has joined us!  The older man, Mr. Willy, Mack thought was his name anyway had been speaking.

Mack’s dad looked back at him as did the other two strangers.

Mackenzie.  Sit down, please.  Milton said to him.

Mack sat down in one of the other chairs at the table, and his mother quickly brought over a glass of water. 

Um ... dad.  How do you know these guys?

Milton leaned back in his chair.

Do you think I’ve been working in the energy facility my entire life?  No, Willy and I used to play together in a band.  We went all around the tunnels playing concerts.  Eventually, I met your mother and decided to settle down to take care of the instruments and raise a family.

Mack’s eyes widened. 

Wow.  I had no idea!

Anyway, Mr. Willy and Felix have told me you are interested in joining the band.  They say that Phillip retired and they need a trumpeter.  You up for that Mackenzie? 

Um ... I would really like to try dad!  Mack said.  That voice came from somewhere deep inside.

What do you think, momma?  Milton asked.

I’m not loving this idea but he’s old enough.  He’s going to have to start working soon anyway, pod rules.  He might as well enjoy himself for a bit first.  Will you take care of my boy, Mr. Willy?

Mack watched Mr. Willy look to Cynthia and say, Mrs. Bowen.  I will take care of him as if he were my own child.  We only travel to established pods, purely safe work.

Mack noticed that Mr. Willy was wearing some strange device behind his ears.  He was going to have to ask about that at some point.

"Mack.  Tonight, we are having tryouts of sorts.  We need you to come and play with the band.  See how you fit in.  Do you know the songs, Dark Town Strutters’ Ball and Beale Street Blues?"

Mack nodded at Mr. Willy.

Yes sir!

Good, be ready to play them and another song of your choosing.  We will see you tonight at seven at the Lakeland Diner.  You know the place?

Yes sir!

Good.

Mr. Willy and Felix stood up and shook Milton’s hand. 

So good to see you again!  Milton said to Mr. Willy.  Mr. Willy beamed back at Mack’s father.

The men said their good-byes and left the house.  As soon as they were gone, Mack looked at his mom.

Mom ... can I use your trumpet?

Mack had his own trumpet but his mom’s was gorgeous.  The sound might be the same, but the look was definitely in his mother’s horn.

Cynthia stood with her hands on her hips.  Mack knew the look.  That trumpet was like another child to her. 

Mackenzie.  If they want you in the band, it won’t matter what your horn looks like.

But mom ... your trumpet is SO much better.  Mack knew he was whining but he didn’t care.

Dad walked back in by this point and was smiling at the situation. 

Aww Cynthia.  He’s practically begging.  Let the boy use it this one time.

Fine.  You can use it tonight Mackenzie, but it better come back as good as new.  No scratches, no damage, perfect shape!

Mack jumped up and kissed his mom on the cheek. 

Yes ma’am!  Thank you.  You too dad.

Mack ran to the family record player to pick his individual song for the evening.

––––––––

Mack was accompanied by his dad to Lakeland Diner that evening.  They arrived early to watch the band set up.  There was pretty much no one in the diner as it was mostly occupied on the weekends.

Pretty much all new members since I left.  Willy is the only original remaining.  Milton said to Mack.

Mack could tell his dad was feeling sentimental. 

Relax when you are up there and don’t play too loud!  Milton said.

You got it dad.

Mack watched the group set everything up and when they finished, Felix waved Mack up to the stage.

Hey folks.  I would like to introduce Mackenzie Bowen to you.  Felix said.

Mackenzie, this is Sampson on the drums, Dimitri on guitar, Betty on saxophone, Walt on the trombone, you already know Mr. Willy on the piano, and I play the bass."  Felix stated.

So, let’s play those songs we discussed earlier today and then you can unveil your pick, and we will see if we know it and can play with you!

Mack was a bit nervous but he managed to make it through the first two songs without messing up.  He definitely felt more confident with his mom’s trumpet.  Once they finished the first two songs, it was Mack’s turn to announce his song.

"Ok.  For the last song let’s play, Someday Sweetheart."  Mack said.

Mr. Willy smiled at the group.  Felix said,

We can play that one.

After a blistering number that accentuated his trumpet skills, the song ended.

Well.  What do you guys think?  Felix asked the group.

I’ve heard better.  Sampson the drummer stated.

You are such a slag.  Betty said with a smile.

You might have heard better but have you heard better at such a young age?  We can market that.  Get more people out to see us.  Felix replied.

The group was silent for a few moments.

Mack.  We still have a couple of more people coming out to see us.  We should have an answer by the morning.  Felix said.

Mack walked back to his dad.

Do you want to stay and watch the other trumpeters?

No dad.  Let’s head home.  How did I do?

Real good kiddo.  They would be crazy not to ask you to join their group!  Milton said with a smile.

––––––––

Mack couldn’t sleep again that night.  He tossed and turned.  The morning finally came and Mack went down and sat at the kitchen table.  The sounds of the house awakening began to grow around him.  Mack finished his glass of water and began to think about what he would do that day.  He fully expected to not hear from Mr. Willy.  They will have gone a different direction.  Someone older.  His chance to see the tunnels had closed.  In a few months, he would have to start training for his future job.

Then Mack heard it.  A knock on the door.  He went and answered and Felix stood there with a smile on his face. 

Double check with your mom and dad and make sure they haven’t changed their minds.  If you still want to come, pack your bags buddy!  Felix exclaimed.

Mack ran back into the house and saw his parents standing there.  They stood smiling at him and he knew he had their blessing.  He hugged them both and his siblings.  Mack packed his old traveling bag that he had never actually used.  He shoved most of his earthly belongings into it and then grabbed his trumpet case.

He hesitated.  He couldn’t take his broken-down old trumpet on the road.  Not for real concerts.  He thought about asking his parents to borrow his mom’s trumpet.  She never would agree to it though, Mack knew that.  Instead, in a moment of weakness, Mack just decided to trade out his trumpet for his mother’s. 

He felt bad but was exhilarated with the idea of traveling in the tunnels.  He finished packing and took his gear downstairs.  He hugged his dad one last time.  He walked over to his mother and hugged her as well.  She whispered in his ear,

Don’t mess it up, please.

Mack stopped and smiled at his mother.

Thanks!  I love you guys!

Milton nodded.

We expect to see you in about eleven months!

I’ll have tons of stories to share with all of you!  Mack said as he headed out the door.

Out in front of his house was a large EMTD with a large sign painted on the side of the vehicle, Mr. Willy’s Traveling Band!

Mack smiled.  This was going to be fun!

––––––––

Over the next six years, Mr. Willy’s Traveling Band traveled across the eastern portions of the Conduit.  They would play concerts for eleven months and then have a month off.  The EMTD would take everyone to their home pods and then would be picked back up in thirty days with a whole new list of pods to play.

Mack had time to get to know his bandmates during that time.  Mr. Willy was growing deaf.  He wore a cochlear device that helped him hear but there was a problem.  It was a device that didn’t exist anymore.  Mr. Willy had the only set in the tunnels as far as Mack knew.  The device used a set of batteries that were dying.  Batteries that small just weren’t made in the Conduit.  Mr. Willy had to use them sparingly.  Only for important conversations and concerts.  Felix was Mr. Willy’s adopted son.  Felix did most of the talking for his father.  Felix was a relaxed, laid back guy who was only about ten years older than Mack.

Sampson was the drummer for the band.  He was a grouchy complainer, but a great drummer.  If he didn’t have anything to complain about, he wasn’t happy.  But, he was a good guy to have around if you needed any sort of defender. 

Dimitri was a quiet, timid young man who was the closest in age to Mack.  The two became friends and watched out for each other.  Dimitri was a talented guitar player who had taught Mack to play.  Mack offered to teach him the trumpet but Dimitri politely declined.

Betty was the only female in the group but she definitely had the motherly spirit.  She took care of the whole group as if they were little boys.  She was also really good at the saxophone.  Betty said that she learned from her father as a child. 

In fact, everyone in the band learned from a parent except for Walt.  He was their trombone player and the best one Mack had ever seen.  Walt had grown up