by King, Ryan
Nathan kicked the duffle and the two bags of dog food down the basement stairs and looked over to see Bethany stacking canned goods neatly into a nearly full box. He walked over, picked up the box and heaved it down the stairs. “Water, get water!” he yelled as he ran upstairs to find the boys. He met them coming down. David was first with bags stuffed full of clothes and blankets. Joshua came next with Daisy in his arms and a full backpack on his back. “Help your mother with water, fill any jug or container you can find and move, we’re almost out of time.”
Nathan looked at his watch. It seemed only moments since the blasts, but he was stunned to see nearly twelve minutes had passed. He turned to go back down the stairs but saw a portable radio on top of a book shelf. He snatched it up and leaped down the stairs three at a time to the ground level.
“That’s enough, let’s go. Come on, let’s go,” said Nathan breathlessly.
Bethany and the boys filed downstairs into the cool, darkness of the basement. Nathan picked up one of the rolls of duct tape and began sealing the edges of the door leading upstairs. He then went downstairs and sealed the air vents. Bethany and the boys were watching him and not moving. What now? he thought.
He scanned the room and saw their heavy ping pong table in the center of the room. “Here, help me,” he said as they pushed it into the corner of the room. He stacked their provisions and other heavy boxes and cases around the edge of the table and piled old boxes on top of it. “Put the bedding under the table, this is where we’re going to live.”
“How long?” asked David.
“I don’t know,” answered Nathan truthfully. “As long as we can, I guess.”
They settled down under the table close to each other, still now but with their hearts pounding in their ears. Nathan felt worried looks on him and wished he could manage some encouragement, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. Daisy whined and he patted her head.
At that moment, the power went out and the world was dark.
*******
They woke several hours later to the sound of sirens outside.
“Thank God!” said Bethany as she began to get up grabbing the burning candle.
“Don’t,” said Nathan catching her by the arm.
“There’s help out there! Let’s go!” urged Bethany.
“We can’t,” explained Nathan. “Those people are probably getting lethal doses of radiation as we speak, but they think it's okay to come out. We received a lot of gamma rays in the initial blasts, we can’t afford any more. We’ll be lucky if we get off with only some radiation sickness.” Nathan looked her in the eyes, “Everyone up there right now is dead or will be dead soon. Our only chance is to stay put.” Beth looked close to tears.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” said David casually.
“Number one or number two?” asked Nathan.
“Both,” answered David.
Nathan sighed. He looked around and saw some buckets in the corner near the floor drain. “Piss into the drain and then cover it up with that filing cabinet. Crap in the bucket and cover it with something to keep the odor down.”
“Can we throw some of that laundry powder over it to help with the smell?” asked Joshua pointing at the washing area.
Nathan nodded, “Good idea, let’s do that. Don‘t dally though, you’re getting more radiation out from under protection.”
“I’ll hurry,” said David as he climbed out from under the table and moved to the opposite corner while picking up a roll of paper towels. Daisy followed him faithfully.
Joshua reached over and picked up the radio out of the pile of clothes. “Should we see if there’s any information?”
Nathan nodded and took the radio out of his hands turning it on. He raced through the FM dials and heard nothing but static. Nathan flipped over to AM and did the same. They heard a faint voice and Nathan turned the dial back carefully.
“…off the roads and return to your homes. The hospitals are full and authorities urge people to stay where they are. All roads along the East Coast are completely impassable. Everyone needs to remain in their homes and not panic.” The tired voice paused before going on, “This is the Emergency Radio Broadcast Network operating out of Ripley, West Virginia. The West Virginia Governor has ordered the state borders closed effective immediately until the crisis is over. He urges people coming west to stay where they are.”
Nathan saw Bethany and Joshua staring at him with wide eyes in the flickering candle light. He turned the dial slowly until he got another faint and static-filled voice. “…reporting indicates multiple nuclear missile strikes at all the major American cities. There has been no official statement or response from the government and we don’t know at this point even if they survived the initial blasts. We can only hope that whoever did this to us is suffering also.”
Bethany took the radio gently out of Nathan’s hand and twisted the knob further, “…potassium iodide if you have it. This will prevent the thyroid gland from absorbing radiated iodine particles out of the atmosphere. If you don’t have potassium iodide tablets, consume as much iodine salt as you can stand per day for at least a month. It won’t do as well as the tablets, but should help fill up the thyroid gland.”
David came back and slid under the table with Daisy lying down beside him, “What’d I miss?”
No one answered him. They sat mesmerized and listened to the radio for what seemed like hours. A hazy story slowly came together like a patchwork quilt of official statements, news conjectures, and ham radio reports. Rumors and theories on various stations made it evident that something really horrific had happened, even if no one knew the whole story. Some stations indicated a nuclear exchange between Iran and Israel, others reported strikes from North Korea on Japan, still others hypothesized that the powder keg between Pakistan and India had finally been lit and consumed the rest of the world. Supposedly an official warning went out from the government before the bombs started dropping on America, but it was too late in most cases.
An order for all military forces to mobilize and report to their units was transmitted over the open airwaves. With the exception of naval forces at sea, this order proved useless. Nathan thought it was an indication of the futility of the act considering he was an active duty Army officer actually living on base and never knew a thing until the bombs started falling. Things must have happened so fast that it caught everyone by surprise.
Evidently, there was an Emergency Presidential Address to the Nation near the end which few saw or heard due to the early hours. A ham radio operator who watched the short address reported that the president looked haggard and even sad, ending with "God bless America," before standing up unceremoniously and walking off the austere and plain set. The screen then cut to a picture of a waving flag while the National Anthem played in the background. Incredibly, the station then returned to regular broadcasting before going off the air for good. Radio and television stations along the east coast began abruptly blacking out around 4 A.M. Nothing now came out of Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Washington, Baltimore or any other major city.
Massive destruction and death reigned above ground. Nathan desperately hoped there were others cowering under the earth waiting as they were. He visualized thousands of people above ground coming out and helping each other, but in the process being poisoned by an invisible enemy all around them.
*******
They stayed in the basement for nearly four weeks. There were more sirens and vehicle activity the first few days, and once an inaudible loudspeaker announcement, but there had been no sound above ground for the last three weeks except for possibly the quite scurrying of a few animals.
Nathan thought they would have to leave after only ten days due to lack of water, but Joshua came up with the idea of drinking out of the 80 gallon hot water heater in the basement corner. They also ended up eating all of Daisy’s dog food. They each suffered mild radiation sickness symptoms, but nothing more severe than nausea, lack of appet
ite, and headaches. He thought they would make it without further sickness as long as they were careful about exposure. By the time Nathan decided to leave the basement, all the radio channels were ominously quiet.
Nathan covered his mouth with a wet bandanna and walked upstairs and outside with the shotgun ready before him. Everything was still and silent. He surveyed crashed cars, bloated bodies in the road, and smoke from old fires in all directions. A layer of dirty ash covered every surface. Nathan was the only living thing he saw under the grey foreboding sky. It was late fall, but the air was colder than it should be and the clouds were dark and menacing. Although he didn’t like the idea of starting out with winter approaching, Nathan decided it was best to get his family away from the large cities while he could. Those cities were going to continue to emit deadly radiation for generations.
They emerged from their den thin, shaky and pale. They gathered all the guns, ammunition, food, water, clothing, and supplies they could. Any item they took that wasn’t in the basement with them was wiped down carefully to remove radioactive particles. Despite their hunger, Nathan was afraid to eat any of the topside food until they moved further from the radiation centers and he insisted they boil whatever water they used.
They drove as far as possible on jammed highways for several days before being forced to pack up and begin walking west. They occasionally saw small groups of other survivors doing the same. People they met didn’t talk much, just kept their distance and continued moving. These others were universally dirty, unkempt and fearfully nervous almost to the point of craziness. Nathan wondered if he and his family looked the same.
The day Daisy died was a low point. It happened after only a few weeks of traveling. Nathan wasn’t sure why, he had heard somewhere that dogs’ tolerance to radiation was much higher than humans. Maybe she just couldn’t handle the stress. They buried her with sorrow and kept moving.
Over the next few weeks they traveled west occasionally seeing individuals at a distance, but never approaching. The bodies with signs of foul play in their path reminded them that caution was now paramount. Nathan and his family had fought off attackers on three occasions already. Fortunately, none of these bands had possessed guns or been too clever.
It was disturbing to Nathan how quickly society broke down into brutality. A week ago they came to a still smoldering and deserted town. Everything was covered in soot including a body hanging from a lamp post by a chain around its neck. A hand scrawled placard on his body explained “Arson Bastard”. Another time they approached a small group of houses in the twilight and saw a large sign saying “Stay Away!” They had run across many such warnings, but the three severed rotting heads hanging from trees, just out of reach of any larger scavengers, made Nathan keep walking even though night was approaching.
At least they were away from the decaying death in the streets. Nathan believed these scenes were probably similar all across the country. All the major cities were destroyed. In rings around these cities were various degrees of “dead zones” with increasing levels of radiation depending on how close they were to a nuke impact. The further they moved away from those cities, the less they saw of mass graves and piles of bodies covered in swarms of feeding rats, vultures, and insects. Nathan also began to feel more comfortable eating any canned food they discovered and found it unnecessary to keep their faces covered with wet cloths.
Ironically, it seemed that the instances of suicides increased further away from the cities. Nathan couldn’t at first understand the families they found sitting around their dinner tables, all dead from eating or drinking poison together. He thought it must simply be despair at the idea of living so differently and without hope. In a strange way, these suicides unnerved him more than anything else.
The highways were totally clogged as they approached the West Virginia border. Vehicles piled high with belongings were packed in so tight they touched in many cases. Both sides of the highway, the median, and even the fields on the sides were stuffed with immobile cars, trucks, and RV’s headed west. They were forced to walk along the tops of these vehicles the last few miles to the border. Large spray-painted plywood signs declared the state quarantined and that no one would be admitted. Empty military vehicles were lined up along the border, but the soldiers, supplies, and weapons were gone. A few rotting bodies showed evidence of trying to force the issue, but not as many as Nathan would have thought. The soldiers had likely lost heart and abandoned their posts, letting the streaming masses of desperate refugees cross the border. Nathan suspected it had been futile.
On the other side of the border was an abandoned and ransacked military camp. In a nearby field behind a field hospital were neat lines composed of hundreds of recent graves. They conducted a futile search for anything of value, but all food, shelter, tools, and even scraps of plastic sheeting were long gone. The family hurried away from the depressing scene.
Murderous and wild rogues often crept in the forest and along the shadowy road edges awaiting an opportunity to attack them. Nathan at first called out to them to ease their fear and hesitation, but learned that these men and women were no longer to be trusted regardless of who they once were. He tried simply to scare these small groups of stalkers away. They would run off for a time only to return soundlessly at night. Nathan now shot at them with the rifle if they refused to show themselves, he was taking no chances.
Moving. Always moving now. They were like nomads. Nathan previously believed such a life would be romantic and reminded him of the Plains Indians, but he thought with wry humor that hunger, cold, and fear just sucked the romance right out of nomadic living. Their time in the hunting shack was warm and restful, but they must not get complacent. This wasn’t home and he was frankly surprised they had made it so far. Nathan brought himself back to the present.
It’s time to move, he thought. We've been in the shack too long. He couldn’t say why he felt this, but knew to trust his intuition. Nathan remembered the four bodies at the bottom of the hill, probably nothing but bones now. Could have been us. Hell, might be us by the end of the day.
“Let’s pack up,” he said to the room without turning from the window, “time to get on the road again.” Nathan started to hum that Willie Nelson song, but stopped when he realized it made him sad.
Chapter 3 – Roadblock
Nathan and his family continued steadily west after leaving the shack. They used a variety of routes, trying to avoid the major highways. Nathan decided to have them turn south in order to avoid the larger cities of Charleston and Huntington, West Virginia. He hadn’t heard anything about those locations, but was unwilling to take a chance they were uncontaminated.
On the roads, they spent most nights in abandoned cars along the road because these afforded shelter and security. Bethany didn't like to sleep away from the boys, but she understood the rationale of having her and Nathan in one car, and the boys in another a good distance apart in case someone surprised them.
The going was difficult after the luxury of the hunting shack. Nathan and his family were walking in the West Virginian Appalachians in late fall, but this was also a blessing. They saw few people and smoke from fires normally warned them when they were getting close to others.
Joshua was visibly relieved when they turned south off the interstate that led through Huntington. He'd been planning on going to Marshal University the next year. Nathan wanted to say something to comfort his son, but didn't have the words.
They followed the Appalachian Trail for a few days, staying in the hiker cabins located at regular intervals along the well-worn path. Nathan, Joshua, and David had always planned to walk the Appalachian Trail. It was going to be his retirement gift to himself and his boys. A couple of more years and they would have spent a long wonderful summer together. The worn trail was now cloaked in an ominous heaviness as if they were trespassing.
Eight days from the shack they came upon the town of Branchland, West Virginia. The checkpoint surprised Nathan so much h
e almost walked upon the sentries unawares. The men and young boys looked more frightened than aggressive. Nathan spoke to Wendell, the leader and one of the town’s deputy sheriffs. He was courteous enough, but refused to let them enter the town, saying a roving band of thugs came through a month ago stealing their food and gas, looting their shops, and killing one man. Since then, they closed the town borders, “until better times.”
Wendell kindly gave them a milk jug full of cold, earth filtered water and showed them on a battered road map how to backtrack around the town. It was plain that his courteous manner would vanish in an instant if they didn't move along, so they thanked them and departed.
“Toll” points became more frequent, manned by individuals with wild eyes and desperate natures. Nathan could have easily overcome these wretched poorly-armed wraiths, but Bethany usually took pity on them and tried a softer approach. Where Nathan would have likely shot them just to be safe, Bethany gave them a little food and talked to them. Although they pointed farm tools or shotguns at Nathan’s family, threatening to kill them when they arrived, they usually departed with kind words and hesitant smiles.
Nathan was thinking of these encounters as they finished making their way through the deserted town of Fort Gay. It was like many other pitiful towns they saw. Shops were looted, especially liquor stores, and any survivors were hiding. Nathan felt eyes upon him, but kept a steady pace, trusting anyone watching was deterred from aggression by their intentionally visible guns. He spied a bridge spanning a broad icy river through the thick wood line ahead. A road sign told him it was the Big Sandy River, the border between West Virginia and Kentucky.
He stopped and listened, hearing faint talking coming from the direction of the bridge. He did not intend to backtrack again. They needed to get across that river, the weather could turn against them any day now. None of them possessed the energy to waste in extra walking to the next bridge. Hopefully it was simply a group of people looking for a handout in the form of a toll which they justified with “guarding the road,” but Nathan was not willing to gamble with his family by walking up unprepared.
