Nuclear Winter First Strike: Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller

by Bobby Akart

  While the National Security Agency was not prepared to affirmatively state the U.S. was under an immediate nuclear threat, the combination of the events of the last three days and the saber rattling by the North Koreans was enough to evacuate the Helton administration to a more secure facility.

  Since President Truman had been in office, U.S. presidents have had access to fortified bunkers to ride out a nuclear war. If the missiles were in the air, the president would be hustled back into the PEOC. However, it was designed to house only a few people for a very limited time. Another option was Greenbrier in the Blue Ridge Mountains of West Virginia. Formerly a nuclear bunker for Congress, it’s now a tourist attraction but can immediately be repurposed in a state of emergency.

  To the north of Washington was Raven Rock in the hills of Southern Pennsylvania. It is mostly dedicated for the military. Peters Mountain, also known as Spy Mountain, was a fortified bunker north of Charlottesville, Virginia, dedicated to America’s intelligence agencies.

  The Cheyenne Mountain Complex in Colorado was the most well-known of them all. Built deep within a mountain, it housed NORAD, the North American Aerospace Defense Command, charged with the responsibility of defending America from a nuclear attack.

  Today, the president was going to be evacuated as part of the U.S. continuity of government readiness condition known as COGCON 1. In the event of a credible threat of nuclear attack, the Administration and the U.S. government would be relocated to a secure, fully staffed bunker.

  His destination was Mount Weather, a mountain peak near Bluemont, Virginia, just fifty miles outside Washington. Run by FEMA, Doomsday City, as it was known, had been activated and kept in a constant state of readiness since the terrorist attacks of 9/11. Mount Weather was built during the throes of the Cold War and was capable of taking a direct hit. It housed the president, his aides, and hundreds of others necessary to operate the government during a time of war.

  All of these facilities were designed to ensure continuity of government during an anticipated foreign invasion, nuclear war, electromagnetic pulse attack, or a natural catastrophe of enormous magnitude.

  The evacuation was not the president’s idea. He had to defer to the defense department. However, the decision aligned with one that he’d made. He was tired of America living under the thumb of her enemies. Namely, North Korea. If Israel and India could take the bold step of beating back their archenemies, so could he. However, there was more to his decision-making process.

  President Helton’s family had experienced the horrors of the Kim regime. In fact, he was surprised nosy reporters or opposition researchers for his political opponents had never picked up on it.

  His uncle, the brother of his deceased mother, had joined a humanitarian contingent to visit a disease-stricken village in the western regions of North Korea. Part of Doctors Without Borders, the beloved uncle of the president had been like a father to him growing up. He’d paired with another medical provider, an epidemiologist who happened to be the mother of Secretary of State Carolyn Sanders.

  While examining and treating patients in a remote village away from their assigned areas, the two encountered a North Korean security patrol. They were brutally beaten simply because they were Americans. Their mauled corpses were returned to the Doctors Without Borders camp. It was explained to the director of the contingent that criminals had attacked the two and were immediately killed by brave North Korean soldiers.

  Nobody ever believed the story. Days later, the group was expelled from the country, and any chance of learning the truth was lost.

  President Helton had discovered the commonality with Secretary Sanders many years ago at a political fundraising dinner. They compared notes, comforted one another, and became longtime friends. They also shared a solemn promise. To avenge their loved ones.

  When he was elected, the president never imagined he’d have the opportunity to exact his revenge on the murderous regime. He’d laid the groundwork to gain the opportunity by bringing Sanders into his cabinet. Once in office, he learned how the U.S. government worked. In secret. He established a commission of loyalists to find an opportunity, as well as a justification, for wiping Kim Jong Un off the face of the planet.

  That opportunity was now.

  After clearing the Oval Office, the president retrieved a celebratory cigar he’d planned on smoking following his inauguration. He’d gotten caught up in the moment, and the opportunity, or just the right occasion, never presented itself.

  He rolled the glass tube containing the Gurkha Churchill in his fingers. The top was sealed with green wax reminiscent of a Maker’s Mark whisky bottle. The cigar, known as His Majesty’s Reserve, sold for $750 each. A hefty price for a smoke but preferred by elites inside the Beltway and considered one of the most expensive cigars ever made.

  He peeled off the seal and retrieved his butane lighter. Earliest man had a fascination with fire. It represented life as well as destruction, the president thought to himself as the hot flame hissed out of the lighter. He became mesmerized by its various hues of red, orange, and blue where it was the hottest.

  He lit the end, rotating the cigar in his fingers to provide an even burn. With each puff of the cigar, the fire created by his lighter rose several inches. His mind deceived him as the fire morphed to a tower of flame stretching thousands of feet skyward until it formed a billowing, ever-expanding mushroom.

  As he puffed on the cigar, the flame continued to dance up and down as it was fed and deprived of oxygen. His mind continued to play tricks on him. He saw a fireball spread across the nation he was elected to protect, incinerating large cities and rural towns, scorching the heartland while reducing to ash the bodies of millions of Americans. All of it floated into the clouds and beyond, swept up by the jet stream and carried for thousands of miles, leaving the remains of America around the globe.

  With one final draw, the burning cherry glowed bright red, and he exhaled, sending smoke spiraling upward. And, within the smoke, there was a set of eyes looking back at him. Evil. Lifeless. Unblinking. Narrowing with scorn. Piercing his psyche. Leaving the words to float through his mind.

  First strike.

  In that moment, President Helton, a sly smile on his face, confirmed his decision. Once he was settled into the bunker at Mount Weather, he was going to make the case for a preemptive first strike against North Korea.

  Do unto others before they do unto you, or something like that, he thought to himself, drawing a slight laugh from deep within him. His mind continued. Screw me? No, screw you! He could go on, but he’d settled on his decision.

  Yes, he would exact his revenge while eliminating a despot at the same time. The world would be a better place for his efforts. He was convinced of it.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Tuesday, October 22

  Hayward, California

  It was late that evening, and Owen was tied up at the office. By the time he broke away, a torrential rain swept down San Francisco Bay toward Palo Alto. Owen was on the Dumbarton Bridge, crossing the lower end of the bay, when a multi-car accident half a mile ahead of him occurred, effectively locking him down on the bridge in the midst of a multilane, thousand-car parking lot. He sat there, frustrated, waiting for emergency vehicles to clear the wreckage. And growing increasingly apprehensive as he listened to news stations on his satellite radio.

  After thirty-six hours, the nuclear war between Pakistan and India had finally come to an end. It was being called the worst humanitarian and environmental disaster in history. Countless millions had perished in a blink of an eye as one nuclear warhead was detonated after another. Wildfires raged out of control across both countries, consuming millions of acres of farmland, destroying buildings, and sending noxious materials into the stratosphere.

  It was during one roundtable discussion on NPR that Owen learned about the concept of nuclear winter. When these nuclear warheads struck the earth, not only did they propel millions of cubic yards of debris and radioa
ctive material into the sky, but they spawned widespread firestorms across the landscape of both nations.

  The fires were not quite as prevalent in the brief Iranian-Israeli exchange due to the geography surrounding the primary targets, Tel Aviv and Tehran. South Asia was a different matter.

  The multitude of targets in both nations were located in fertile valleys used for growing food for the enormous populations in the region, especially India. The blasts created a mushroom cloud, but they also spread incredible heat and fire outward from the detonation site. The soot from the burning cities and plant material following the nuclear blasts entered the atmosphere and immediately began to spread around the globe.

  Scientists interviewed by NPR claimed the soot, radioactive debris, and other materials could circumnavigate the globe within four to five days. As they did, sunlight would be blocked from reaching the Earth’s surface, resulting in a significant drop in global temperatures. In addition, rainfall would decrease substantially, thus increasing ultraviolet radiation levels due to the badly damaged atmosphere.

  That was how nuclear winter began, a term of art dating back to the early eighties when Carl Sagan and a team of scientists brought the concept to the attention of the world. Their studies, as refined by present-day scientists, talked of unfathomable loss in agriculture productions and massive global starvation.

  Owen’s pulse raced as those interviewed made their case. He changed the station to CNN. More of the same. FoxNews? Ditto.

  The consensus was that the direct death and destruction was the obvious result of a nuclear war between nations. The widespread firestorms following the bombings would burn out of control for months in some locations, or longer. The millions of tons of soot and ash would absorb sunlight for a minimum of five years as the ability to grow the world’s four main cereal crops—corn, wheat, soybeans, and rice—would plummet for nearly ten years. It would be the single largest famine in documented human history.

  Owen switched his radio to ESPN, hoping for a respite from the doomsday discussions. He would soon be disappointed.

  It had been a long but productive day for Lacey and Tucker. She monitored the news but didn’t obsess over it. There were too many things on her to-do list for hand-wringing. She and her family were resolved to get ready for the worst-case scenario. Tucker had spent time on the internet and revealed a horrifying fact. The San Francisco Bay Area was a high-value target for the three nuclear-powered enemies of the U.S.—Russia, China, and North Korea.

  Silicon Valley, the area where Owen worked, was the high-tech capital of the world. It was home to over two thousand companies, including Apple, Microsoft, Google, Yahoo!, and the social media giants. As the military pundits pointed out earlier in the day, a strike against the Bay Area would devastate the American economy and its high-tech dominance for a decade.

  After Lacey heard that report, she stepped up her preparations. Tucker’s innocent proposal to get out of town for a family vacay suddenly took on a new meaning. That morning, she replayed Peter’s warning in her mind and felt the urge to run away from home as fast as she could. However, first, there was work to be done.

  Lacey knew they’d have a twenty-to-thirty-minute warning in the event a nuclear missile was launched toward the West Coast. That would require fast action on the family’s part. Living on the east side of Hayward on the ridge was a plus. They wouldn’t have to battle traffic like the millions who lived in the Bay Area. In minutes, they could be on I-580 heading east, and thirty minutes later, they’d be past Stockton, roughly sixty miles away from San Francisco.

  The first order of business was to prepare to leave on a moment’s notice. Staying was not an option in the event of a nuclear attack. After consulting with Owen, they agreed to use their Ford Expedition to tow their vintage Ford Bronco, nicknamed Black & Blue. The 1967 classic had been a purchase made by the family after Lacey’s first hugely successful year with her new business, Jefferson Outfitters. The family vowed to spend more time exploring the outdoors in Northern California and Nevada. They enjoyed watching the Paramount television series Yellowstone, starring Kevin Costner. One of the beloved characters drove a classic Bronco. That was how the choice had been made.

  She focused on all of the things the government harped on—water, batteries, candles, etcetera. Lacey spent the better part of the morning focusing on food that was easily transportable. She purchased all of the high-calorie MRE bars at Bass Pro Shops to supplement her own store’s inventory. MRE was an acronym for meals-ready-to-eat. Her store sold a wide variety of easily transportable, long-lasting food products designed for campers and hikers. As of noon that day, she was completely out of stock. Every case of anything edible was sitting in her living room.

  She doubled the quantity of her camping and hiking gear. The same was true of their clothing. If the time came, they’d be heading into the Sierra Nevadas as an early snowstorm arrived. If Peter’s warnings were correct, they might not be able to return home, a reality that hadn’t quite set in yet.

  By nightfall, when the deluge of rain had invaded the coastal areas, Lacey and Tucker had filled the living room with gear, supplies, food, and water. Their focus on the basic necessities was a success. However, it was Tucker who was the first to point out a potential shortfall.

  “Hey, Mom, why don’t we have a gun?”

  Lacey, who was exhausted as she sat on the only seat on the sofa not covered with piles of clothing, responded, “Well, frankly, we never found the use for one. We’re not against guns like a lot of people around here. It’s just that we aren’t hunters, and because we live in a safe gated community, we’re not afraid of break-ins.”

  Tucker just stood there for a moment, and then he, too, surveyed all of the items they’d amassed over the last twenty-four hours. He glanced back toward the hallway leading to the garage where the Expedition awaited.

  “Mom, this is a lot of stuff. Is it all gonna fit?”

  Lacey pushed herself off the couch and stood in the middle of the room, slowly rotating in a complete circle to take it all in. They’d need to go back to U-Haul to rent a box truck, she thought to herself half-jokingly.

  Owen was listening to the ESPN hosts discuss the ongoing World Series when the inside of the car exploded in a cacophony of warning signs and computer-generated voices.

  The ESPN programming was interrupted to issue an ominous alert. The screen on his SiriusXM radio changed to read:

  EMERGENCY ALERT

  BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND TO CALIFORNIA.

  SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

  Owen received a text message from the California State Warning Center, known as Cal OES, which issued a push alert to all cell phones and handheld tablet computers located within the state’s IP address locations.

  Cal OES: The U.S. Pacific Command has detected a missile threat to California. A missile may impact on land or sea within minutes.

  THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

  If you are indoors, stay indoors. If you are outdoors, seek immediate shelter in a building. Remain indoors well away from windows. If you are driving, pull safely to the side of the road and seek shelter in a building or lie on the floor. We will announce when the threat has ended.

  THIS IS NOT A DRILL. Take immediate action measures.

  The disaster app began to wail. Outside the car, through the driving rain, California’s siren warning system, which had been tested just weeks before as part of a missile preparedness exercise, had been activated, emitting a high-pitched wail.

  Owen, like many other motorists, froze for a moment, unsure what to do. Then, as if prompted by an invisible cattle prod, they reacted.

  Some jumped out of their cars, leaving their doors open and engines running. They raced away toward the east, logically trying to get away from the coastline. Others calculated the shorter distance to land was back toward the west. Large groups of people collided with one another, resulting in a massive human scrum on the bridge.

  Ow
en pushed his way in between the three lanes of stalled vehicles toward home. Behind him, horns were blaring and tires were screeching as motorists tried to force their back way off the bridge. Several panicked motorists tried to jump over the concrete barrier separating the east- and westbound lanes of the causeway. They were plowed down by speeding traffic as drivers raced to perceived safety somewhere in East Palo Alto.

  It was mayhem, and San Franciscans weren’t handling the threat very well. As Owen ran, he tried to call Lacey and Tucker. Cell towers were overwhelmed with millions of others doing the same. His mind raced as he thought of the buildings and facilities on the east side of the Dumbarton Bridge. He’d passed by there twice a day, five days a week, for years, yet his mind drew a blank.

  Was there a nuclear fallout shelter over there? Was there even a building with a basement considering its close proximity to the bay? How much time did he have before the bombs hit?

  Owen wanted to throw up, but he kept moving. He focused on his love for Lacey and Tucker. He prayed they’d taken off to the east like they’d discussed. He wanted them to live, even if he couldn’t. He refused to let despair overtake him. So he pressed forward. He abandoned all sense of decorum or politeness. Like so many others were doing, he knocked anyone down who prevented him from reaching safety.

  Lacey had been marshalling their assets. Picking and choosing what was a priority based upon the survival rule of threes. A person can only live three hours in extreme weather without adequate shelter. Without hydration, the human body begins to deteriorate rapidly without water after three days. Without food and adequate nutrition, the body begins to cannibalize itself after three weeks.