by C A Bird
“My God Will, you’re really serious, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I honestly believe we won’t be returning here. Did you call your sister?”
“No, I planned to contact her today.”
“Well, this may be it. Tell her to wait by the phone for your call.” Will was shifting into high gear, working best when decisions were needed and immediate action required. Mark didn’t question him. As Will left to rouse the household, Mark called the plant, leaving instructions for the Gulfstream to be prepped for take-off, and then called his sister in Dallas.
“Jill, hi, this is Mark. Yeah, I know it’s early. I want you to have Mike stay home from work today.”
“Hi Mark. I can’t do...”
“No, listen to me for a minute will you. Keep the kids around home too. You’ve heard of the nuclear test the Chinese conducted? Well, we have reason to believe they may attack the United States.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Dammit Jill, It’s not ridiculous! Will has been communicating with the Secretary of State and he says there’s a significant danger. Stay home by the phone and I’ll get back to you the minute there are concrete developments. What can you lose? You promise?”
“Okay, I think it’s silly but I’ll talk to Mike.”
“Great, I’ll call you later.” He hung up the phone, and wondering what was happening to his world, started upstairs to get dressed.
***
Hargraves went upstairs to Chris’s room. He had been mildly annoyed the previous night when she went out with her friend after the party, wanting her to stay in closer contact. And he felt bad for Mark. He’d always hoped someday Chris and Mark would marry.
He rapped on her door. “Chris, I need to talk to you right away.”
“Come in Dad, I’m awake,” came the sleepy reply.
Entering the room, he found her just awake and stretching out. “Babe, I’m going to ask a serious favor of you. Would you go to Washington with me today?” He lied. “Pack a small bag and come downstairs as soon as possible, okay?” He had already turned to leave without waiting for a reply.
Wide-awake now, she could see her father was deadly serious. She remembered as a child how his eyes would shine when something important was happening. His eyes were shining now. She didn’t question him, although she was certainly curious and just a little alarmed, and called out as he left, “Sure Dad, right away. I need to get back tomorrow though…”
Downstairs, Will asked Helen and Ernest to pack, and met Mark, dressed, coming from his room. “Helen’s throwing a few things in a bag for me. We should be ready to leave as soon as Chris and Clay are downstairs.”
Mark, reminiscing, glanced around the room. He had so many wonderful memories of growing up in this house and he sadly realized he might be leaving this part of his life forever. Will took a picture of Katherine, off the mantel and asked Mark if he would pack it for him. More than anything else, this caused Mark to understand the seriousness of the situation, and he felt an overwhelming compassion for the older man who’d lived in this house for thirty years, raised his children here, and lost his beloved wife years before. Feeling sure this was all a fantastic dream, Mark believed they would be back here for dinner and a few laughs.
The others soon joined them, Clay grousing about the hour. He hadn’t packed a bag. “This is crazy, Dad. I don’t want to go. What’s the deal?”
Will swung on Clay with fire in his eyes. “You’re going whether you like it or not. Now shut up and get in the car!”
Clay stood shocked for a moment then quickly slunk out the front door. Chris, her eyebrows raised, followed him, and the others went out to the cars in the drive.
“I’ll see you at the airport.” Mark waved and drove toward home, his thoughts a mixture of uncertainty and disbelief. He called several friends but most were out on their morning runs and none answered his calls. He left messages, telling them about the shelter and how to get there and hoped that some would believe him and at least attempt to make the trip.
As he drove through Laguna Beach, crowded with trendy craft shops, art galleries and pizza restaurants, he thought back to twenty years ago, when he first moved in with Will and Katherine. This had been a small, upscale coastal town, an artist’s colony. A short, gated street off Pacific Coast Highway led to Will’s driveway and at one time his was the only house on the block. Now, although Will’s was still the only house on the ocean side, the street had other homes crammed together on every square foot as. Indeed, the hills overlooking the town had mansions built on almost every buildable lot.
Mark and Chris used to wander through town, window shopping and looking at the paintings the artists displayed along the sidewalks. She loved the galleries and he loved being with her, even then. He was sixteen and although she was only eleven years old, she was mature beyond her years. Although Pacific Coast Highway, lined with eucalyptus trees, was fairly empty at this early hour he knew that later, and especially on weekends, the traffic would become almost unbearable.
When he arrived at his home in Newport Beach, he quickly threw a few mementos of his life into a suitcase; a medium size leather bag that now contained a few papers written by his great-grandfather, his display case with finishers’ medals from the past six Palos Verdes Marathons, a small photo album with the only known photo of his mother and father together, some pictures of Jill and her family, and a few of he and the Hargraves children. This is crazy, he thought. Convinced he’d be home later he filled the rest of the bag with running shoes and a few clothes and sped away for the plant.
***
The Gulfstream was cruising over the California-Arizona border, the Colorado River directly below, when the radio crackled to life. A Man’s excited voice asked for Will Hargraves and Will, flying in the copilot’s seat quickly grabbed the mike.
“This is Hargraves. What’s up?”
“Will, it’s Chuck. The situation has become critical. No sign of attack directed at us yet but we feel it’s imminent. Conventional forces are attacking North Korea from China and a nuclear device has been detonated in Russia by God knows who. It wasn’t a missile, so terrorists must have smuggled it in. Of course Russia immediately retaliated by launching missiles with trajectories targeting Beijing, Shanghai, and other major Chinese cities. We’re fairly certain it’s only a matter of hours until global escalation. None of the other countries are communicating, but the President is on the hotline to Moscow. The Russian president assures Rissman they won’t attack us, but China undoubtedly will, after this attack on them by Russia. In fact I’m sure this is what China planned all along. I think they wanted the entire world to exhaust their arsenals of nuclear weapons on each other. Furthermore, I believe no matter what assurances Russia is giving, if they come under heavy attack, they’ll respond with a global retaliatory response to keep from being threatened by conventional forces after the nuclear holocaust.
“What steps are being taken by the government?” Will asked.
“Executive operations will reside in the command plane until it’s safe to move to the government shelter. I suggest you go underground soon or it may be too late. We’ll try and maintain contact with you once we’re in the shelter. Good luck, Old Friend.”
The radio went dead before Will could answer and he knew the Secretary had barely had time to notify him before leaving Washington. Will glanced quickly over at Mark in the pilot’s seat.
“I can’t believe this, but I guess it’s decision time.” He reached for his briefcase, opened it and took out a small satellite, radio transmitter. He looked up at Mark, took a deep breath and pushed a button, activating the device.
August 21, 8:00 a.m.
Denver, CO
Lori had requested a vacation day to catch up on her housework and her shopping. She’d neglected both while attending her mother’s funeral in New Mexico and was convinced that if she would just perform her duties more efficiently, John would have no reason to find comfort with anot
her woman. She worried that he’d somehow found out she was working full-time, or that maybe she wasn’t getting everything accomplished, and he’d noticed. She couldn’t imagine where she may have screwed up, but something was bothering him, and she was certain it was her fault.
After John left for work and she’d put the kids on the bus for their summer day care, she’d scrubbed the beer off the carpet and was starting on the furniture when the doorbell rang, announcing Express mail bearing an overnight package from her father. Lori, puzzled and concerned, carried the package into the living room. She’d left him only four days before. Her mother had died unexpectedly after rupturing an aortic aneurysm, and her father, a nuclear scientist at Los Alamos National Laboratory in New Mexico, was devastated by her untimely death. Lori’s mother, at fifty nine, had previously been in excellent health. Lori took the children and went to New Mexico to attend the funeral, staying a few days to ensure her father was recovering from the emotional trauma. She’d put her own grief on hold.
Ripping open the package, she read the note… and became even more alarmed. She hurried to the phone and tried to reach him again, but as before, the answering machine picked up and she could only leave another message. She was so far behind in her work she just stuck the device in her purse to deal with later. What could he be thinking, sending her this thing? She worried he was having a nervous breakdown, and decided to call the lab when she returned home from grocery shopping to see if he’d cut his bereavement leave short and had returned to work. After finishing the cleaning, she grabbed her purse and headed to the grocery store.
Lori dodged other supermarket customers, as she pushed her cart through the aisle, shaking her head at the astronomical grocery prices. Even with her salary supplementing John’s it was becoming increasingly difficult to provide a good home and nutritious meals for her family. Moving to the aisle’s edge she picked up two cans of tomato sauce, her gaze switching back and forth to compare ingredients and prices. She stared at them, suddenly unseeing, the labels blurring as tears welled in her eyes, and she remembered the woman’s laugh when John called home the night before last. She hadn’t had the courage to ask him about his ‘working late’ when he arrived home after midnight that night, and she certainly hadn’t wanted to confront him with her suspicions last night when he came home in one of his foul moods.
“What did I do wrong?” She whispered, wiping her tears on the sleeve of her t-shirt.
“Excuse me, please.” Startled, Lori jumped and moved farther toward the side of aisle, out of the woman’s way as she zoomed by with her cart. Lori dropped one can in the basket and returned the other to the shelf without making a conscious decision.
With sudden resolve she made a decision. She hurried to the checkout stand and waited impatiently as the checker ran the grocery items across the scanner. She would confront John with her suspicions! She would ask him for an explanation! Even though she’d kept herself up for him, he’d been showing less and less interest in her, and he’d paid very little attention to the children as well, except to yell at them or hit them. She was determined it was time to get some answers, but while waiting in line she began to waiver, reconsidering her rash decision.
“Will that be all ma’am?” The cashier had finished checking the groceries. “Paper or plastic?”
“Yes, that’s all. Thank you. Plastic please.”
Lori reached in her purse for the $72.46, but jerked her hand back as though a snake hiding in the pocket had bitten her. The signaling device she carried had suddenly begun to wail loudly. She almost dropped the purse and looked up quickly at the clerk who was staring at her with a surprised expression.
“What in the world is that caterwauling?” inquired the clerk, retrieving a box of cereal she’d dropped, and placing it in the bag.
“I… I have to go. I’m sorry, but I don’t want the groceries.” The color had drained from Lori’s cheeks and she felt light-headed. “Please excuse me.” She turned to leave the check stand.
“Hey, are you all right? I’ve already wrung these up.” Lori didn’t look back as she fled through the front doors into the Albertson’s parking lot.
The siren still emitted an ear-piercing scream from the inside of her purse, and she grabbed the box, flipped it over, and tried to figure out how to silence it. She was surprised to find the back was open. There was a small toggle switch inside which she immediately flipped and the noise mercifully ceased. Reaching her car, she climbed inside and quickly read the message. Money and a map were included with the note.
“My God,” she muttered, “Is this some kind of joke? Oh Dad...”
She quickly drove to the daycare and pulled into the parking lot, sitting stationary for a moment to collect her thoughts. With sudden inspiration, she reached over and turned on the radio tuning to an all-day news station. The announcer was reporting an emergency situation in Russia and China that sounded fairly serious, although there were no specific details and nothing was said about danger to the United States. She sat in the car biting her lip and trying to make a decision. Her thoughts raced between her Dad, her kids and husband, and the signal. She decided she’d pick up the kids and return home, then attempt to contact her Dad again, and if she couldn’t get him, she’d call John and ask him what she to do. Leaving the device on the seat, she finally climbed from the car and entered the school office.
“I’m Mrs. Arnaud and I need to pick up Ashley and Kevin early today, please. We have a family emergency and have to leave town for a few days.”
“My goodness, again? I’m sorry to hear that,” replied the secretary. She checked Lori’s I.D against the authorization on file and turned back to Lori, who was fidgeting with impatience. “I'll notify their teachers to release them.” Two students were copying papers in the next room and she sent them to get the children. Lori watched them go, wondering if they would soon die, or was this all some crazy product of her father’s dementia?
She signed the log and told the secretary, “I’ll wait out front. Thank you,” and exited into the sunlight, waiting until her children came running to her from their respective rooms.
“Hi, Mommy. Look what I made!” Her youngest flashed a picture at her.
“Come on, hurry and get in the car. We have to go for a little trip.” She took his arm and, almost lifting him from the ground, she ushered them to the car, shushing their attempts to ask her where they were going. Driving home way too fast, she prayed she wouldn’t be stopped.
They entered the house and she went straight for the phone. There was still no answer at her father’s residence. She started to dial John’s office when her hand froze over the phone, a visual image popping into her head unbidden, of him in bed with another woman. She bit her lip and slowly pulled her hand back. Whirling around, she headed for the bedroom, grabbed a suitcase off the closet shelf, and filled it with clothes. Lugging the suitcase, she went to the kid’s room to find them dutifully changing their clothes.
“Leave your school clothes on, it’s okay. Ashley, honey, go fix you guys a sandwich. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Mommy, where are we going? Grandpa’s house again?”
“Just fix the sandwiches. We need to go now!”
“Don’t forget my fire truck!” Kevin reminded her as they ran from the room.
She threw some of their favorite toys, including Ashley’s Barbie and Kevin’s little fire truck, into the bag and hurried to the kitchen where she discovered the kids had made a complete mess of the sandwiches. She instinctively started cleaning it up when she realized it wasn’t important anymore. Grabbing their bags, she hustled the children out to the automobile, throwing the suitcases into one side of the back seat.
“Stay here and get your seat belts on. I’ll be right back!”
She returned to the house and dialed the number of Madison Electronic Supplies. A woman answered John’s extension.
“This is Mrs. Arnaud. Please tell my husband he deserves whatever happens to him and
so does the slut he’s been sleeping with.” She heard a sharp intake of breath and knew absolutely her suspicions about the secretary were correct. Slamming down the receiver, she grabbed a pad of paper kept by the phone and, with complete satisfaction, quickly penned a note to John. She knew him… he would race home the minute he received her message, furious, ready to teach her a lesson. She ran through the door, jumped in the car, and removed the map from the glove compartment, comparing it with the one she’d removed from the device.
“Mommy, where’s Daddy?” Kevin asked.
“He’s not coming, Kev.” She drove across town on Colorado Boulevard, turned south down the on-ramp and headed south on Interstate twenty-five.
August 21, 8:15 a.m.
Marina Del Rey, CA
The devices went off all over the Southwest, from the coast of Southern California, across Arizona and New Mexico into Texas, and as far north as Utah and Colorado. Only those within a radius of approximately three or four hundred miles could possibly expect to make it by automobile. The others would need to fly.
Most contactees were so startled they wasted precious time; not believing immediately that the signal meant the coming of Nuclear Armageddon. Then, after consideration, and listening to the T.V. or radio the majority decided it was worth a chance believing. They could always return to their jobs the next day if it proved to be a hoax, and the consequences of ignoring a legitimate warning were too horrendous to contemplate. This line of reasoning led numerous recipients to start on their journey toward the shelter. Approximately half the people lived within the radius necessary to make travel by car a possibility while the others had occupations best filled by people in the industrialized areas of Southern California or other major cities.
