by Harley Tate
Heaven. Hell. The end of the world.
He lowered his arms as the vehicle slowed. It pulled up alongside him and Walter exhaled in relief. Military. The emblem on the side read Army National Guard and beneath it in small block print, Eureka, CA. Walter stepped off the road and waited.
The passenger-side door to the Humvee opened and a kid who looked like he was playing dress up in his dad’s closet stepped out. The insignia for a private covered his shoulder and Walter marveled. Either they let them in younger and younger or he really was getting old.
“Do you need assistance?” The kid didn’t smile as he spoke, but he could tell from the way he stood, awkwardly gripping his gun in his left hand, that he didn’t want to engage a hostile.
Walter nodded. “Yes, please. My friend tripped over a log about a hundred and fifty feet into the forest. He can’t walk.”
The private glanced around. “Do you have a car?”
“No. We’re on foot. Trying to get to Sacramento.”
Another man jumped out of the Humvee and approached.
“Sir, this man has a friend who’s hurt in the woods and can’t walk. He’s requesting assistance to get him out.”
The other guardsman nodded and stuck out his hand. “Staff Sergeant Hickman at your service.”
Walter shook the man’s hand. “Walter Sloane, USMC retired.” He glanced back at the forest. The men from the cabin could still be chasing them. He needed the guardsmen to help and fast. “If you don’t mind, I’m worried about my friend. We were chased by a bunch of thugs into the woods. They could still be looking for us.”
The private glanced at his superior, waiting.
Hickman shouted at the vehicle. “Gortz, Mather, get out here and help us look for an injured civilian.”
The two men responded in the affirmative as they clambered out. Walter pointed the way and with him guiding them through the brush, they located Drew in minutes. He still sat where Walter left him with his foot propped up on the log and a sorry look on his face.
The staff sergeant coordinated moving out. When they reached the side of the road, he turned to them both. “Let’s get you two into the Humvee and checked out by the medic back at base camp.”
Walter agreed. He’d never been so thankful to see a bunch of soldiers in his life.
DAY FIVE
Chapter Sixteen
WALTER
National Guard Armory, Eureka, CA
6:00 a.m.
Walter rubbed the sleep from his eyes as the private he’d met the night before handed him a steaming paper cup of coffee. He sipped it with thanks and tried to wake up.
It had taken at least an hour to reach the National Guard facility after Walter flagged the Humvee down. Then they had been shuffled inside and asked a few questions about where they were from and where they were headed.
When they were satisfied, a guardsman treated Drew’s ankle injury and his bleeding blisters and sent him to a cot somewhere with a sleeping pill and a bottle of water. Walter had intended to stay awake long enough to learn what was happening out in the world, but he’d succumbed to the suggestion of a cot for himself and fell asleep as soon as his eyes closed.
Now he stood in the chilly coastal air, sipping bad coffee, just as clueless as he was the night before. He glanced at the private’s name tape. “Private Lewis, is it?”
The kid nodded.
“Been with the Guard long?”
He shook his head. “Just finished training, sir. This is my first deployment.”
What an introduction. Walter felt for the kid. He looked about the same age as his daughter. So young and inexperienced. He wondered where his daughter was and whether she possessed the same bewildered expression as Private Lewis.
“Thank you for stopping and picking us up. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t come along.”
The kid nodded his acceptance. “We were supposed to go to Portland to help out with the riots there, but we got called back just south of the border. Lucky for you we got forced off I-5 and onto the backroads.”
It sounded familiar. “Where are you headed now?”
The kid hesitated. “My sergeant says Sacramento.”
Walter almost spit out his sip of coffee. “Why? Did something happen?”
“It’s real bad there. Riots. Looting. Even the prison caught fire.”
Another guardsman walked up and joined the conversation midstream. “I heard all of downtown is burning and the south side is even worse. It’s like Armageddon down there, man.”
Walter reeled. If Sacramento was as far gone as they said, was his family even alive? He glanced at the other man’s name tape. “Havers, is it?”
“That’s my name.”
“Do you know any more? What about the more established parts of town?”
“You mean the nicer ones?”
Walter nodded.
“As far as I know, they’re on their own. Our job is to get that shit contained and keep it from spreading. What the rich people do inside their fancy houses and behind their gates isn’t our problem.”
Tracy wasn’t waiting in a fancy house or behind a big gate for Walter to come home, but they didn’t live in a bad part of town, either. He frowned. How would the National Guard contain anything? The power loss wasn’t temporary. Nothing would get any better.
“How are you going to keep the violence from spreading? Are you hauling in aid? Food and water and temporary shelter?”
Havers laughed. “No, man. Not even close. We’re supposed to set up a perimeter. No one in. No one out.”
Walter blinked. “That’s the plan?”
The kid nodded. “We’re fencing off all the zones of unrest.”
“You’re locking them in?”
The other guardsman answered. “Let them all shoot each other. That’s what Sergeant says. In a week, everyone will be dead one way or another. No point in getting shot for a hopeless cause.”
Walter couldn’t believe his ears. “What about all the people still trapped in the city? There have to be thousands of good people stuck in the middle of the riots. Aren’t you going to go rescue them?”
Havers snorted. “Who do you think we are? The Marines? Naw, man. You wanna risk your life, go ahead. We won’t stop you.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a photo. “I’ve got a little girl. She’s four. I’m not going in there so some thug can put a bullet in my head.”
Havers stuck the photo back in his pocket and continued. “This isn’t just a California thing or a West Coast thing. It’s national. Hell, it could be all over the world for all we know. The president is supposedly in some bunker somewhere barking out orders, but there’s no one left to listen. The state government’s a joke, the police are all gone. It’s over. Everything is over.”
Private Lewis kicked at the ground. “I heard since there’s no more computers, we can’t get paid. Everything used to go all automatic-like right into our bank accounts. No one knows how to do it the old-fashioned way.”
Walter exhaled. It was as bad as he feared. Worse. “If you all aren’t getting paid, why are you here?”
Havers spat on the ground. “That sergeant of ours is up my ass all damn day just waiting to bust me for leaving. But believe me, the minute I can get out of here and go home, you can bet your ass that’s what I’m gonna do. My daughter needs me. Screw everyone else.”
Walter turned to Private Lewis. “What about you? Are you going to go along with all this?” Walt stared at him, waiting for his answer.
After a moment, the boy nodded. “My mom needs me. She’s all alone. As soon as I can, I’m heading back home so I can take care of her.”
Walter didn’t know what to think. Five days without power and the National Guard was working without pay and merely told to “contain” the problem areas with no attempt to provide assistance. Was this what their modern day humanitarian aid looked like?
He thought about the way wars were fought thes
e days, with nameless, faceless drone strikes ordered from the comfort of the Oval Office. This was just another order. Havers was right; the president probably sat right now in an upholstered armchair in some bunker below the ground, waiting for most of America to die from starvation or kill each other.
The government never acted fast enough. Never made the tough choices quick enough. He still couldn’t believe these soldiers were going to barricade people in and let them die. “Don’t you all care about this country? Don’t you have a sense of duty?”
Private Lewis glanced at the other man. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I gotta follow orders, sir.”
“Damn straight. No sense in sticking your neck out for someone who doesn’t give a damn about you. If we didn’t have plenty of rations, it would be worse. We’re already losing a few men every day. Soon it’ll just be the single guys with nowhere else to go.”
Walter shook his head.
He was too old to be of any use and retired long enough for no one to care about his opinions. But this whole thing boggled his mind. Barricading people inside the city instead of going in and establishing order? Keeping guardsman on duty when their families had no food or water?
This wasn’t a civil war fought thousands of miles away on a continent most Americans had never visited. This was right here. Right now.
He scrubbed at his face. “Do you know for sure how far the power is out?”
A third voice answered his question. “I’m afraid that’s classified.”
Walter turned around. Sergeant Hickman stood a handful of steps away, his thumbs hooked in his belt. Walter gawked at him. “That’s ridiculous. Whatever happened is done. It shouldn’t matter who knows it.”
“According to the higher-ups, it’s a national security issue. Afraid I can’t tell you more than that.”
“Do you know if any effort is being made to provide aid? Is FEMA mobilized? What about the other branches of the military? The Marines?”
Hickman snorted. “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Maybe you would get more information out of some old active-duty buddies.”
Walter didn’t know why the man had a bone to pick and he refused to take the bait. “I just want information. That’s all. My wife and daughter are in Sacramento and I need to get home to them. I would appreciate any information you can give me.”
Hickman inhaled, his nostrils flaring as he thought it over. “I can’t give you any more details. But we can give you a ride. It’s wheels up at 1300.”
Walter stared as the staff sergeant spun on his heel and walked away.
“Somebody sure pissed in his cornflakes this morning.” Havers spat another wad of crud on the ground before walking away. Only Private Lewis remained by his side.
“If I knew any more, I’d tell you, sir. But no one’s said anything.” He glanced at Walter with wide eyes. “That means it’s bad, right?”
Walter nodded. “Yeah, kid. I’d say it’s real damn bad out there.” He gave the private a quick pat on the shoulder before walking toward the building where Drew still slept. They needed to pack up and get ready. In a few hours, they would be home.
Chapter Seventeen
WALTER
Sacramento, CA
5:00 p.m.
The drive into town via a giant desert-brown convoy took hours. Walter’s impatience grew with every mile. Was his family in the middle of a war zone? Were they barricaded inside the tiny bungalow while people set the rest of the city on fire? Had Madison even made it home, or was she out there somewhere, trapped and alone?
Walter ground his fist into his palm over and over as the Humvee bounced down the road. If anyone hurt his family, he wouldn’t rest until he found the culprit.
“You all right?” Drew’s voice snapped him out of his waking nightmare.
“Just imagining the possibilities.”
“Don’t do that to yourself. We’ll find out soon enough.” Drew ducked to look out the window. “We’re only a mile or two from my place.”
“Where do you live?”
“Downtown. A little condo on N Street, about five blocks from the river.”
Walter glanced at the two National Guardsmen in the front seats. “Can you all drop us off downtown? Somewhere near the Capitol?”
Both Guardsmen looked at each other before glancing in the back. “That’s part of the containment area. We’re headed that way, but we’ve got orders to lock it all down.”
“What about the state government? Isn’t the governor and the legislature at the Capitol?”
The man in the passenger’s seat shook his head. “No. It fell yesterday. The major who came to brief us said the whole thing’s on fire. The dome and everything.”
The driver spoke up. “That’s why we got pulled back from Portland. We’ve got orders to contain the violence to inside the rivers and the highways. Everything from the Sacramento and American Rivers south to Highway 50 and I-80 is going on lockdown.”
Walter swallowed. “That’s all of downtown.”
“Midtown, too.” Drew scooted forward in his seat. “My fiancée is downtown. That’s where we live. I have to get to her and get her out.”
“We can drop you at our checkpoint, but can’t get any closer.”
Walter turned to Drew. “Are you sure she’s at home? You said yourself she could be anywhere.”
Drew ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “I…I don’t know.” He glanced out the window. “But I have to get home and find out.”
Walter nodded in understanding. Part of him wanted to wave as Drew set off for his place and turn in the other direction, but walking to their home from downtown would be difficult. He would never make it before dark.
What he needed was transportation. He turned to Drew. “Do you have a car?”
“Yeah. A Jetta, why?”
“Will it be at your house?”
“It should be, unless Anne took it somewhere.”
Walter nodded. He could help Drew find his fiancée and they could all drive to his home in the safer, non-barricaded part of town. Walking through a riot to get to a car wasn’t the best idea, but leaving Drew didn’t seem right. Not when the guy had a twisted ankle and could barely walk.
“I’ll go with you to your place and help you find Anne, if you’ll drive me to my house when we’re done.”
Drew’s face broke into a smile. “Thanks, Walt. That would be great.”
Nothing about today was great, but Walter didn’t correct him. The Humvee slowed as the driver navigated a corner and pulled into a parking lot. He put the vehicle in park and turned around to face Walter and Drew. “This is the end of the line. We’re regrouping here before establishing the defensive perimeter.”
Walter held out his hand. “Thanks for taking us this far.”
The driver shook it. “Sorry we can’t get you closer.”
“It’s better than the forest you found us in.” Walter smiled and glanced at Drew. “Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Walter climbed out of the Humvee and helped Drew down. Even with his ankle taped and his blisters bandaged, he still walked with a limp and at an old man’s pace. They would be slow-walking ducks on the streets of downtown until they reached Drew’s condo.
Walter checked his watch. “It’s 5:30. We’ve got maybe an hour of daylight left and at least a mile to reach your place. The faster we get there, the better.”
Drew nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
Walter grabbed both of their bags, slinging one over each shoulder. Drew needed to worry about his ankle and not his duffel. “Which way is fastest?”
Drew glanced around at the street in front of them. “North until N, then it’s five blocks east.”
“Let’s go.” Walter led the way, canvassing the street in front of them and every alley and darkened doorway they approached. Urban fighting was the worst. Besides having an endless number of places to hide, sight lines were limited. An ambush could be waitin
g around every brick wall or concrete pillar.
The first shop they passed had boards on the window and broken glass beyond. The second was a burned-out shell.
“This is unbelievable.” Drew looked around, eyes wide. “Why do people riot when the power goes out? It makes no sense. Do they want to live in chaos?”
“Mobs have a life of their own.” Walter glanced around and hitched the bags higher up on his shoulders. He picked up the pace a bit, willing Drew to walk faster. “Once something happens and the fuse is lit, the hive mentality takes over. Everyone is anonymous and part of this larger collective. It’s intoxicating.”
“You sound like you like them.”
Walter shook his head. “No. But I understand them. Ever been to a live sporting event like a college basketball or football game?”
Drew nodded.
“It’s the same sort of feeling you get when the crowd is cheering and the team is playing great, only times a thousand. The mob is running on endorphins. It’s a chance to strike back at the government, the police, anyone and everything.”
He thought back to the LA riots. Days of unfettered chaos that seemed to go on forever. “How old were you in 1992?”
Drew counted back. “Eight. Why?”
Walter snorted. “I was twenty-one and I’d just gone to Los Angeles to celebrate when the riots broke out.”
Drew hesitated. “You were there?”
“Yep. At a bar. The whole twenty-one-shot challenge.” Walter smiled. “I was young and stupid.”
“Were you caught up in the riot? How did you survive?”
Walter would never forget the sounds of the city that night. “It was chaos. I watched looters smash a storefront across the street and barge in while a cop car rolled right by, doing nothing.”
“Seriously?”
