by Bruno Miller
All he could think about were his friends and the shop and his house back in Cloverdale. Had they survived or suffered the same fate as some of the houses and businesses they passed along the interstate? He’d lost track of the number of buildings that were on fire, and those were only the ones they could see. The rising smoke suggested there were many more out of sight.
The air had become thick with a yellowish haze, casting a very unnatural tint over the landscape. The temperature seemed to be rising faster than normal as well. He glanced at his watch and was surprised to see that his old Timex automatic still worked. At just a little after seven in the morning, it was already hotter than it should have been at this time of day. He wondered if the nukes had any effect on the atmosphere. It was possible and certainly would explain the heat. Over the last few months, he’d educated himself about the effects of a nuclear blast and knew a lot of it came down to the tonnage of the bomb and the altitude at which the detonation occurred.
Vince hoped Cloverdale would be safe from any nuclear fallout, providing the weather didn’t exaggerate the effects of the blast. But Indianapolis as well as any other place that had been ground zero for a detonation would be a hot zone for months, possibly years, depending on all the different factors.
By the looks of the buildings in Indianapolis—or what was left of them—he assumed the detonation was somewhere between a high-altitude detonation and a ground-level burst. Was that the intended design or had the bomb malfunctioned? Whatever the case, the radiation it generated wouldn’t reach out as fast as the blast force and thermal activity. At least that was what he hoped; otherwise, they were all doomed. They would know for sure in a couple days or hours, depending on the radiation levels they had been exposed to. High doses of radiation absorbed by the body could cause a myriad of health problems.
Most radiation passed through the human body, but tissue and organs absorbed a small amount. Anything over two hundred rem or rad—Vince never could figure out the difference—would cause sickness within a few hours. Anything over that, and the results would be grim.
No one had any rashes or reddening of the skin, so he was fairly confident that their exposure so far was low. There was always the possibility of health issues down the road, but that was of little concern to him now, and he couldn’t think beyond the near future and getting home.
Vince glanced at the passengers in the back seat, then at Cy. “Everybody feeling okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, why?” Cy had a puzzled look on his face.
“I’m just concerned about radiation poisoning. I think we’re okay, but if you feel nauseous or get a headache, let me know.”
“And if we do?” Cy asked.
“If you do, we need to find some potassium iodine tablets,” Reese interjected.
Cy turned to look at his newly found cousin.
Reese shrugged. “The thyroid gland is very sensitive to radiation. The tablets help prevent absorption into the gland. But it’s only effective against radioactive iodine and isn’t a cure-all.”
“How do you know all this?” Cy asked.
“I’m studying to become a veterinarian at Cornell. Well, at least I was. I guess all that is over now.” Reese turned away and hid her face as she looked out the window. Buster leaned over the seat and rested his head on her shoulder. She reached back and rubbed his head without turning around.
“Maybe it’s not that bad,” Cy said. “Maybe it’s only like this in a few places. We can’t be sure the whole country looks like this.”
Vince wanted to believe there was some truth to what Cy was saying, but his gut told him otherwise. He saw the plumes rising across the horizon, and they all heard the distant rumblings of multiple detonations. There was no reason to believe that this horror hadn’t played out all across the nation. To what extent it had, they might never know.
With communications and emergency services down, there was no telling when or if help would ever come to them or anyone. At this point, the government was surely in self-preservation mode. For all Vince knew, there was no government anymore. If the North Koreans were behind this, Washington D.C. would be a high-priority target, and so would most major military bases around the country. If a relatively unimportant place like Indianapolis was a target, then it was reasonable to assume there were a high number of detonations. In the grand scheme of things, Indianapolis had little strategic military value. If enough ICBMs were launched that Indianapolis became a target, then all bets were off and the entire country was probably in chaos.
For the time being, they needed to accept the fact that they were on their own. Vince decided then and there that the first priority when they got back to Cloverdale was to grab any able-bodied person he could find and form a rescue party. They’d go house to house and building to building until they covered the town. There was strength in numbers, and they would need all the help they could get.
Not only would they need to gather survivors, but they also needed to start gathering and stockpiling supplies. They could be on their own for God knows how long—months, maybe years. Would they ever see normalcy again? He doubted it, but he held out hope that someday Cy and Reese would have a normal life or semblance of one. And it was up to him to make that happen. This was about survival; this was about making sure there was a future for them in this apocalyptic world.
Chapter Nine
As Vince approached the exit for Cloverdale, he saw dark clouds of smoke hanging over the town, and his heart sank. Multiple columns of thick gray smoke rose from everywhere, it seemed. There were too many fires to count as he made the turn and exited the interstate. Time stood still for a moment while he strained to see through the thick haze. Had his garage survived the pulse? To say Vince was relieved to see the garage intact was an understatement, and he headed straight for it.
His joy was short-lived, though. The amount of damage was staggering. He could count on one hand the number of buildings and houses that survived the EMP blast. Among them were the motel across the street and a few small vacant homes at the beginning of the residential section.
There was no movement otherwise—not a soul in sight. Besides his shop, the next closest gas station was completely engulfed in flames that had long ago blown the pumps. The skeleton of a delivery truck was partially exposed and sticking out the side of the building. Its side panels had melted away, leaving only the rugged steel frame.
As Vince pulled into the parking area of his shop, he searched for Bill’s truck but failed to find it anywhere. He wasn’t surprised and assumed Bill had run back home when it all happened. His older-model Dodge pickup should have survived the pulse. He hoped Bill had made it home in time to save Sarah and their little girl Sasha.
When Vince got out of the car, the first thing he noticed was the large plate-glass windows in the storefront. They each had several long cracks running from one side of their frames to the other. The only thing holding them together was the tinted glazing that helped keep the sun out.
No one said a word as they hopped out of the car and looked around, The damage was overwhelming. In a matter of hours, their once sleepy little town had been transformed into a fiery wasteland. The air was thick with floating debris and smoke, making it difficult to draw a full breath without gagging or choking.
“Come on. Follow me,” Vince ordered. He led them into the shop and ran behind the counter. He searched the lower shelf and pulled out a handful of paper filter masks. He’d bought a pack a while ago while doing some insulation work at the shop. At the time, he complained about having to buy a twelve-pack when he only needed one. Now he was glad he had enough to go around.
“Here, put these on. We shouldn’t be breathing this stuff in.” Vince took one and threw the pack to Cy, who took one and handed the rest to Reese. She took one and tried to fasten it over Buster’s face, but he wasn’t having it. He pawed at the mask and knocked it off quickly.
“Just worry about yourself. He’s down low enough to the ground that I
think he’ll be all right,” Vince said.
Once they all had their masks on, they stood around for a moment and looked at each other in disbelief. The relative calm inside the storefront made it hard to accept what was going on outside. There was a part of Vince that wanted to stay put.
Vince realized that he was going to have to take charge of the situation. As he looked at the mask-covered faces of the people around him, he could see the shock and unwillingness to accept what was going on in their eyes.
Hannah adjusted her mask. “What do we do?”
“We look for survivors. I have a couple cars out back in the yard that I think might still run. Wait here while I look for the keys,” Vince ordered.
In his mind, he ran through the inventory of cars at the shop. What did they have that was drivable? There was an older Chevy van that had a bad transmission. It would run but only had a few gears that worked. It still beat walking and would hold a lot of people or supplies. He looked through the cabinet where they kept the keys for all the vehicles they currently had at the shop. He found the van keys and also the keys to an old Toyota pickup that had come in for muffler work. He headed back out to the storefront and found everyone standing around in silence. The only movement came from Buster, who had wandered off to the snack section and was sniffing the candy bars.
Vince tossed the van keys to Fred. “There’s a black Chevy van out back. It’s only got a couple gears, but she’ll run.”
“Okay.” Fred stood motionless for a moment before he snapped to. “Okay, we’ll start looking for people.”
“You’ll have to go out the front and around. The back door isn’t working. Oh, and if you come across anything useful, don’t hesitate to grab it. Food, clothing, weapons, whatever you can find,” Vince added.
“Weapons?” Fred made a face.
Vince nodded. “That’s right. I don’t see things staying civil for too long.”
“You really think it will come to that?” Reese asked.
“Let’s hope not, but we need to be prepared to defend what we have,” Vince answered. The truth was, Vince had little hope for avoiding conflict and was sure that, sooner or later, it would come down to their ability to protect themselves and their supplies. He knew there were people out there who would seek to capitalize on the catastrophe. Someone tried to break into his shop last night, after all, and that was under normal circumstances. With no law enforcement, it would be up to them to protect what they had, and the more prepared they were, the better off they would be.
“We can start taking survivors to the motel across the street,” Vince said, eager to change the subject. He handed the other set of keys to Cy and looked at his son.
“You up for this on your own?”
Cy took a step forward and grabbed the keys. “I got it, Dad.”
“Buster and I can go with you,” Reese offered.
“Honey, no. I want you with your mother and me,” Fred pleaded.
“Dad, it’s okay. There’s no point in all of us going together. We can get more done in teams,” Reese shot back.
Vince was impressed with her willingness to step up and was glad to see her volunteer without hesitation. It also made him feel better to know that Cy wouldn’t be alone in case he ran into trouble.
Cy looked at his dad. “What about you?”
“I’ll be fine. Everybody be careful. Don’t take any unnecessary risks and don’t waste time trying to put out any fires. People and supplies are the priority.”
They all nodded in agreement and headed out into the parking lot. As soon as Vince stepped outside, he could feel the heat from the fires and a sting in the back of his throat from the soot in the air. The mask helped a little but was never meant for this type of use. It filtered out airborne particles but did nothing to block the pungent burnt odor that permeated the air and was a harsh reminder that their town was dying.
As the others made their way to the back lot, he locked the door to the shop out of habit and headed for the wagon. There was no time to waste as he thought about the events of the morning and where Mary might have been when it all happened. He fired the engine up and threw the car into gear. He began to pull out of the lot when he suddenly stopped.
He should wait and make sure the others could start their vehicles and get on their way. He sat and watched the gate impatiently. The blue Toyota pickup pulled through the opening first. Cy drove and Reese rode shotgun while Buster sat on the seat between them.
Cy gave him a thumbs-up as he pulled out slowly and headed down Main Street. The Toyota quickly disappeared from sight and into the drifting smoke. The van appeared next as Fred nursed it along and out of the lot. It was in bad shape, but Vince hoped it would hold out long enough to be of some use. What choice did they have? All the other cars at the garage were either newer models and wouldn’t start or didn’t even run at all.
The van pulled out and headed in the same direction Cy and Reese had gone. Vince worried about his son, but there was no time for that now. Every minute mattered and might be the difference between life and death for those people fortunate enough to avoid being trapped in their homes and burned alive.
Chapter Ten
Cy leaned forward as he drove the old Toyota into the swirling clouds of smoke. There were moments when he could only see a few feet in front of the truck. It cleared up for brief periods and allowed them to see a little farther at times, but as they approached the residential area of town, the smoke enveloped them once more. As they passed the burning houses, he began to wonder if they would find any survivors. Most of the homes they passed were already consumed by flames, and the rest were well on their way. If there were people inside, they were long gone. He did his best to keep the truck in the center of the street. Too close to one side or the other and the heat from the fires was almost unbearable.
The situation seemed hopeless, but when he was about to say something to Reese, he spotted something through the haze.
It was a couple walking on the road. He slammed on the brakes to avoid running them over. Buster slid into the dashboard and quickly climbed back onto the seat, letting out a few nervous whimpers.
The couple looked shocked to see a pickup heading toward them and froze in their tracks. Covered in soot and coughing, they carried a small child who looked unconscious or, worse, dead. The woman’s face had two clean streaks under each eye, where tears had washed the soot away.
Cy threw the truck into neutral and put on the emergency brake before he hopped out. He didn’t dare turn it off. Back in the yard, the truck had been reluctant to start at all, and he didn’t want to get stuck here.
“Come on. Get in the back. We’ll get you out of here,” Cy called out.
The couple stood motionless for a moment before they reacted and started for the truck. “What’s happening?” the man asked, coughing through a rag that he held over his nose and mouth.
“We’re under attack. Nukes.” Cy could barely believe the words as they came out of his mouth. Next to him, Reese appeared out of nowhere and didn’t waste any time escorting the woman to the back of the truck and into the bed. The man followed, handing the boy to his wife before climbing in next. The child moved a little on his own and then coughed. Before now, Cy hadn’t been sure if the boy was alive or not.
The man coughed again. “Where are you taking us?”
“The old motel in town. You’ll be safe there.” Cy nodded and closed the tailgate. He wasn’t sure if they would be safe at the motel or not, but that was what his dad had said to do. Besides, by the looks of things, there wasn’t anywhere else to go.
This was no time for introductions, and Cy and Reese hurried back into the truck, where Buster waited impatiently and greeted them with excited sniffing and panting as he bounced back and forth across the bench seat. Cy considered how lucky the dog was to be oblivious to what was going on around them. Finally, with some coaxing from Reese, Buster settled into his spot between them like he’d been riding there his w
hole life.
“We need to get them out of the smoke, and they all need oxygen, especially the boy.” Reese rubbed Buster’s head and tried to settle him down.
“Where do we get that?” Cy asked.
“Head for the fire department. They should have what we need.”
“I’m not sure how to get there,” Cy said with a shrug. “Do you want to drive?”
Reese glanced down at the manual shifter. “I don’t know how to drive this thing, but I’ll give you directions. Just head back the way we came for now.”
Cy nodded and did a tidy three-point turn on the road, thankful they weren’t going any farther into the chaos, at least not for the time being. Reese directed him through a few turns, and eventually they ended up at the firehouse—or what was left of it. Cy was disappointed but not surprised to find the building in ruins. For the most part, the concrete walls still stood, but the wooden trussed roof had caved in and was a burning heap of embers atop the still-parked emergency vehicles, making them inaccessible. Cy wondered what had become of the fireman. Were their bodies buried in the rubble? Both he and Reese stared for a minute and contemplated their next move. Maybe they should just drive back to the motel. It was getting worse by the minute out here and harder to see. There were people in the back of the truck now that were exposed and already in bad shape.
He looked at Reese. “Now what?”
“We really need to find oxygen for the boy. Let’s try the pharmacy—if it’s still there,” Reese said with a sigh.
“Just point the way.”
After a few more turns and what seemed like hours at such a slow speed, they arrived at a slightly intact drug store. The building was on fire, but not as badly as some of the other places they had seen. Cy was about to suggest they let it go, but Reese had other plans.
