Glimmer of Hope: Book 1 of Post-Apocalyptic Series

by Ryan King

  “That was a bomb,” someone from the crowd said. “A big one.”

  “Was it another nuke?” a small girl asked.

  “No,” said a wrinkled man with intense eyes.

  The small group turned to the man. “How can you be so sure?” one of them asked.

  The man smiled. “Because if that had been a nuke, we’d all be dead now.”

  “Look at the water!” the little girl yelled, pointing.

  They turned and saw that the normally placid lake surface was now flowing steadily north. Although the dammed river still moved along its old bed through the dam’s concrete bottleneck, the movement was usually imperceptible.

  Now the water began to rush northwards.

  “It’s going down,” said Alexandra, looking at what had once been the shore. Now slime-covered rocks and limbs that had recently been covered in water were shining in the dim evening light.

  “Did they open all the dam gates?” someone asked.

  Everyone stood silently and watched as the water steadily receded. Surprised, fish flapped in the mud.

  “Go get ‘em,” a man told his two sons who raced out into the mud to grab the fish and throw them up onto shore. “There’s more over there,” he told them, and soon others were out scrambling to pull in the stranded fish.

  Alexandra stood rooted and wondered where Joshua was now. She realized that she hadn’t even told him goodbye before he left. At the time, she hadn’t cared if she ever saw him again, but she cared now.

  They watched as regular-edged surfaces began to emerge from the water off to their right. Thin upright stones, coved in slime, placed in lines. The partial remnants of a rusty fence ran around the stones. Further down what looked like a roof was appearing.

  “I heard about this when I was a child,” Joshua’s grandmother said. “Looks like they took the church steeple and bell when they were forced to leave.”

  Alexandra turned to look at her. “What are you talking about?”

  The woman pointed. “That was a church with a graveyard…before they built the dam back in the thirties.”

  “People lived…there?” She pointed out towards the much shallower water.

  The old woman nodded. “This used to just be a river valley. People lived and worked and farmed here. Then the government came in and pushed them out.”

  “They were forced to leave their land?”

  “Not all of them. Some accepted the government offer to buy their land. From my understanding, it was good money in the dark days of the Depression. Plenty were glad to get it, I imagine, but not all. Some just wanted to stay on their land. My grandparents were some of them.”

  “What happened?”

  “What always happens,” she answered. “Men showed up with guns and made them leave, and they never saw their home or land again. I always wanted to see it.”

  Alexandra stared at the receding water. “Well, you might get your chance now.”

  The woman waved her hand to the east. “Their farm was somewhere over in the Cumberland River valley.”

  People were coming up out of the riverbed as long shadows crept down the valley. They carried gasping fish in shirt tails and buckets. They made their way to their homes to clean the fish for dinner.

  “Going to be dark soon,” Alexandra said.

  “In more ways than one,” the old woman said, turning away. “I better go make sure the lanterns are in order. I think we may have seen our last burning light bulb for a while.”

  Alexandra turned again to look at the thin ribbon of black smoke to the north and shuddered. She then faced to the south and gazed at the darkening shy.

  “Where are you, Joshua?” she surprised herself by saying out loud.

  Alexandra realized that she wanted him back home desperately.

  Chapter 2 – Evening Swim

  Joshua hit the cold water and pushed the bomb away from him. He tried to swim away from the dam, but his boots and gear filled with water and started to pull him downward.

  Forcing himself to be calm, Joshua stopping thrashing in the water and shrugged out of his tactical vest. With a pang of regret, it pulled away from him and dropped downward. As he bent down to unlace his boots, he felt his feet touch the bottom of the shallow river. He quickly unlaced his boots and pushed them off as his lungs began to burn. With a last tug, his boots were free, and he kicked himself upwards to the surface.

  Breaking free with a gasp, he heard Conrad yelling from the surface of the dam. “That was a damn foolish thing to do.”

  “It worked, didn’t it?” yelled back Joshua, treading water. He noticed that the surface of the lake was now lit brightly by lights from the dam.

  “Maybe the water shorted out the radio; maybe it didn’t,” Conrad responded. “For all we know, the blasted thing is waterproof and just sitting there below you waiting for someone to push a button on their little walkie-talkie. I expect the blast pressure would blow your asshole up through your mouth.”

  Joshua started swimming hard for shore. Some of his soldiers met him there and pulled him out. Someone wrapped a green blanket around him, and he began to towel off.

  Conrad trudged down the shore towards them. “You do know the demo team was only like fifty feet away when you decided to go all stupid on us?”

  “No, I didn’t know that,” answered Joshua, looking around at his soldiers’ feet. “Anyone have an extra set of boots that might fit me?”

  Someone retrieved their backpack and tossed him a pair of worn boots that looked to only be a size too big. A dry shirt and pair of socks were also passed his way. Joshua changed while Conrad stood nearby cursing and grumbling to himself.

  “Sir?” a voice said and Joshua looked up to see one of the men assigned to watch the road. “Two of those Indians are here on horses. They heard the commotion and came to check it out. Say they want to pass along some news since they’re here anyway.”

  “The Creek,” said Conrad to the soldier. “Bring them on in.”

  Several minutes later two men on horseback made their way down to the shore. “A fine night for a swim,” one commented, looking at Joshua.

  “Indeed it is,” Joshua answered with a smile. “I hear you have news.”

  The other rider nodded. “We’ve scouted for at least twelve miles all around here; there’s no Huntsville forces.”

  Joshua looked at Conrad. “This may have been all of them.”

  “Doesn’t mean they can’t be sending reinforcements,” said Conrad.

  “Not with Huntsville surrounded,” said the first Creek. “Between the JP forces and the Creek patrols, it would be pretty hard for anything to get through.”

  Looking west, Joshua began calculating the distance.

  “Our orders are to secure and hold the dam and power plant,” Conrad reminded him.

  Joshua looked at him and grinned. “We’ve already done that. A small force can keep an eye on things here, watch the prisoners, and tend to any wounded.” Joshua then remembered his responsibilities as a leader. “Did we have causalities?”

  “Yes,” answered Conrad, looking around at the soldiers staring at him. “Five dead so far and sixteen wounded; three of those aren’t expected to make it.”

  Joshua lowered his head and nodded solemnly. “Nothing we can do for them by sitting around here. We can leave all the medical folks along with a detachment. They should be able to hold things.”

  “Unless the Huntsville forces mount a counterattack to retake it. They surely like their electricity as much as we do.”

  “There’s nothing between here and Huntsville except friendlies,” said the Creek.

  “See,” said Joshua. “The fight’s at Huntsville and it’s going to be a tough one. Chances are they’re going to need everyone they can get.”

  Looking around at the dam, Conrad shook his head. “I don’t know about this. Maybe we should send a courier or find a way to send a radio message. Let them know we have secured the objective and ask for further o
rders.”

  “Since when have you been one to ask headquarters for orders?” asked Joshua. He turned to the soldiers around him. “Good job, people. We’ve accomplished our objective, but there’s still a battle being fought in Huntsville where they probably need our help.”

  “Damn right they do!” yelled a woman, holding up her assault rifle.

  “So…what do you say? Everyone up for a little traveling?”

  There was a chorus of cheers.

  Joshua looked at Conrad with a smile. “It’s out of my hands. They all want to go help.” He turned to the gathered soldiers. “Go get ready to move out.”

  Conrad watched as the soldiers strode away to prepare for the next mission. “It’s not a goddamn democracy, and you damn well know it,” he grumbled.

  Taking his rifle back from Conrad, Joshua walked up the shore towards the Creek. “Thank you,” he said, shaking their hands. “Let us know if anyone comes near here.”

  The two riders nodded and turned their horses to the west to canter away.

  “I know it’s not a democracy,” said Joshua, turning back to Conrad. “My orders are to move west towards Huntsville within the hour. Leave a detachment here and be prepared to move fast. Is that authoritative enough for you?”

  Conrad stared at Joshua for several long seconds before turning away. The big man cursed under his breath as he walked towards the dam.

  Shaking his head, Joshua turned back towards the river and spotted a dark shape bobbing on the surface of the water nearby.

  With a start, he realized it was the bomb he had pulled off the wall of the dam. Joshua walked quickly after Conrad, throwing furtive glances back over his shoulder.

  Chapter 3 – Lights Going Out

  Ernest Givens, only recently reacquainted with regular sleep unaided by large quantities of alcohol, didn’t appreciate being woken. He had learned to sleep with pieces of cloth stuffed in his ears. Even nights were never truly quiet in the jail block, but the noise coming through the makeshift plugs was unusual.

  He pulled the cloth from his ears and heard angry voices and breaking glass. It was dark in the cells, but that was not unusual. There was supposed to be hall lights on all the time, but power outages were regular.

  Something I’ll fix when I’m the JP President, he thought.

  Ernest looked down at his wrist to see what time it was forgetting that they had taken the watch, along with all his other personal items, when they had admitted him to these fine guest rooms.

  “What’s going on?” Ernest asked no one in particular.

  “Don’t know,” said a voice in the cell to his right. “Started about an hour ago. Lots of people outside and they don’t sound too happy. Even sounded like they were trying to get into the jail earlier.”

  A lynching? he wondered, but then dismissed the thought. None of them had committed any crimes so grievous as to rile up people to murder.

  Ernest rolled out of his bunk and walked to the bars of his cell that faced the central hallway. He looked towards the guard room and saw shadowy light and hushed voices.

  “Norton!” yelled Ernest. “You out there? Norton!”

  “Shut up, back there!” screamed an authoritative voice. “Chief Norton’s busy.”

  “Busy with what?” yelled Ernest. “Tell us what’s going on.”

  “I said shut your damn mouth, or I’ll shut it for you.”

  There was several seconds of silence.

  “Norton!” Ernest screamed out and then began chanting it. “Nor-Ton! Nor-Ton! Nor-Ton!” The other prisoners took up the chant, and soon it was a loud clamor of voices that echoed in the concrete halls.

  A guard strode towards them with a tight jaw and a baton clinched angrily in his fist. His other hand shined a large flashlight in the cell.

  Ernest moved back away from the bars as the man approached, but didn’t stop his chanting. He smiled at the angry policeman who pointed his baton at him.

  “You really want it to go down this way?” the man asked.

  Ernest kept chanting, but gave the man the middle finger of each hand, one for each syllable. Soon the entire floor had taken up the middle finger accent to the chant.

  “Open up cell three,” the man called out.

  “What?” came a high voice.

  “I said open up cell three, you dumb shit,” the officer said.

  “How?” the high voice responded. “We don’t have electricity.”

  Ernest smiled at the man. “I guess he’s not the only dumb shit, is he?”

  The officer strode angrily away as the prisoners on the floor laughed and hooted. A minute later, he returned with a ring of keys and fumbled in the dark between the key ring, flashlight, and baton.

  Ernest stopped chanting, but everyone else kept up their call for Norton. “What are you planning on doing once you come in here, officer?”

  The man dropped the keys and angrily picked them up again. “I’m going to shut you up, just like I said.”

  “I’ve shut up, officer. No need to come in here.”

  The man banged his baton savagely against the cell bars. “It’s too late for that.” He resumed his search for the proper key, and Ernest noticed that the man’s hands were shaking.

  “What’s happened?” Ernest asked.

  The man smiled in triumph as he inserted a key and turned. The sound of the gate unlatching caused everyone on the floor to suddenly become silent.

  “Shut and lock that door!” yelled Norton, walking towards them. “Now!”

  The officer turned to look at Norton in surprise and then back at the cell in disbelief as if he had awoken and wasn’t sure how he had gotten to where he was.

  Ernest walked forward, pulled the cell door closed before reaching through and taking the keys from the man’s lifeless hand. He turned the key in the lock, pulled them from the keyhole, and tossed them to the approaching Norton.

  The police chief caught the keys and put them in his pocket. He then took the flashlight from the officer’s hand. He tilted his head towards the exit. “Trevor, get out there and help. Try not to hurt anyone. Keep in mind these are our neighbors. They’re just scared.”

  Trevor nodded and, without a glance at Ernest, walked away.

  “What’s going on?” Ernest asked him. “Why are they scared?”

  Norton stared at him for a long time, and Ernest didn’t think he was going to answer. “The power’s gone off.”

  “So? The power goes on and off all the time.”

  Norton sighed and looked towards the exit again. “The power has gone off forever.”

  There was several seconds of silence before one of the other prisoners asked, “What do you mean, forever?”

  “The dam,” Norton said, turning to look at them all. “It’s gone. Someone blew it up somehow. Killed no telling how many people who live downriver.”

  “But they can fix it, right?” asked another voice.

  “No,” said Ernest with a faraway look and resignation. “There’s no fixing something like that, not anymore.”

  Norton nodded, pointing outside to the angry voices. “Something everyone is starting to realize. The days of electricity are over.”

  “It’s not just that,” said Ernest, nodding. “Their days of pretending nothing has changed are over.”

  “And the only way they can deal with that terrible thought is to lash out and destroy.”

  “They’re rioting?” asked Ernest.

  Norton nodded. “Smashing windows that can never again be replaced. Trying to set buildings on fire. My people are trying to restore sanity, but I’m not sure that’s going to be possible. No matter what, it’s going to be a long night.”

  “You may have to lock them up, for their own good,” Ernest said. “Before they hurt themselves of someone else. If they were drunk, you wouldn’t hesitate.”

  Norton looked around at the cells that were at least half full.

  Reading his thoughts, Ernest spoke softly. “No one in here
has committed a violent crime. None of us are a threat. These are extraordinary times, and I’m guessing you’re going to have to put a lot of people in here to restore order.”

  The chief looked at him and then the other prisoners, his mind obviously working. There was a gunshot outside.

  “You know I’m right,” Ernest said.

  Norton sighed and then walked to the center of the cell hall. “Listen up. I’m paroling all of you temporarily. I expect to see each of you back here first thing in the morning three days from now. If you want to run, go ahead and keep on going right out of the JP and don’t come back. If you think you want a life here, you better behave while you’re out and come back without my officers having to track you down. Everyone understand?”

  There were nods and murmurs of accent.

  Moving to the end of the hall, Norton began opening cells, and the men walked hurriedly away.

  “What about our personal affects?” one of them asked.

  “You’ll get them when you’re officially released,” Norton said. “This is just a temporary thing. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

  Ernest watched as the men walked out in the dim light. The strange, thin, young man, Spence, didn’t immediately exit when his door was opened. Instead, he walked over to Ernest’s cell.

  “I know what needs to be done,” he said. “You don’t have to remind me. Consider it done.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Ernest.

  Spence nodded knowingly. “Don’t worry. I was listening and I heard you. I know what needs to be done. I listened.”

  “What?” Ernest said, shaking his head, but Spence walked away, smiling knowingly back over his shoulder until he was out of sight. Ernest was wrenched out of his thoughts by the sound of his cell door being opened.

  “You made the right decision,” Ernest said. “I’ll remember this when I’m president. You’ll be—”

  “Shut it with that crap,” Norton said softly. “It’ll be a miracle if there even is a JP in a week. Now get out before I decide to beat the shit out of you in a failed jail break.”

  Ernest looked from the man’s dangerously calm face to the long flashlight held tightly in his fist like a club. Walking slowly, Ernest made his way out of the cell and around the chief. Not looking back, he strode down the dark hall through several sets of open security gates, and then outside.