by Bobby Akart
The two triumphant fighters stood back-to-back as the man yelled, “Anybody else? Come on, now. Y’all scared? Who else has a big mouth like these fools?”
The group gathered up the injured soldiers and retreated to the other side of the M35s. Banda and Dr. Bravo walked up to them, and the two relaxed somewhat.
The young man spoke first. “Hey, that was self-defense. We don’t want any trouble.”
“We know,” replied Banda. “We caught most of it, starting with the yelling and the accusations.”
“Don’t worry, friends,” said the elderly Dr. Bravo. “Our people understand what it’s like to be the brunt of hostilities such as these. Why don’t you gather your things, and let’s go inside? We don’t have much to offer in the way of hospitality, but it will be better than what you experienced from those men.”
“We’d be much obliged. My name is Duncan Armstrong, and this is my friend Sook. We’ve been through an awful lot to get back to the States. The last thing we needed was a fight from guys like them.”
Banda picked up Duncan’s bag and handed it to him. “Feels heavy, Mr. Armstrong. More than just clothing, I suspect.”
“The world has changed,” said Duncan.
“Indeed it has,” said Dr. Bravo. He smiled as he hooked his arm through Sook’s. “Would you mind helping an old man across the street, young lady?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied with a smile and a wink to Duncan. “Thank you. You are the second American to be nice to me.”
Dr. Bravo laughed. “Well, I’ve said something similar once. Let me tell you a story as we walk inside.”
The group walked toward the governmental building, unaware they were being watched from afar by a man with one eye.
Chapter 19
December 2
Texas Homeland Security Operations Center
Austin, Texas
Former Texas governor and now Texas President Marion Burnett had just completed recording a series of announcements to be broadcast over any operating Texas radio stations and the Texas Emergency Broadcast System. It had been seventeen hours since the first missiles were launched by North Korea. After the initial barrage and the retaliatory strike ordered by the president, the threat subsided. Nonetheless, the former governor urged Texans to be mindful and pay attention to news reports in the event tensions flared up from another source.
She departed the Fusion Center and returned to the Governor’s mansion under heavy guard. Despite the nuclear threat, the rising sun brought out protestors to the mansion grounds, protesting the lack of food. The Texas president was beginning to feel the effect of the catastrophic event and the impact it had on the state’s food supply.
While Texas had done an admirable job of protecting its power grid and remaining fiscally responsible, the former state’s politicians failed to take into account that much of their foods were brought in from California and the Midwest. This weighed heavily on her mind as she entered a conference room filled with her top advisors. President Burnett mumbled to herself, “Man cannot survive on beef alone,” a phrase that would be decried as blasphemy in Texas.
“Good morning, everyone,” she announced as she arrived. “Please, stay seated. This will be a long meeting, so we should all get comfortable.”
“Coffee, Madam President?” asked her aide.
“Wow, that sounded, well, different.” President Burnett chuckled. “Needless to say, the start of our transitional government from a state to a nation is on today’s agenda. Forming a new country is difficult enough, but the circumstances we face make it dang near the stuff of movies.”
She reached for the coffee mug and took a quick sip of the black brew. Amidst the nuclear war and food shortages, her mind wandered to coffee availability, of all things. Then, in a brief moment of compassion for President Harman, she wondered how another new president was coping with the magnitude of the collapse. These events would test everyone’s mettle.
“Thank you. Now, let’s get started. Let me have a damage report on Galveston and how Texas was affected by the blast near Shreveport. Kregg, you’re first.”
Kregg Deur, who held the position of adjutant general and the head of the Texas National Guard, stood and moved to the front of the room near two wall-mounted monitors.
“Thank you, Madam President,” started Deur. “As you know, some of the world’s largest refineries are located in the area of Galveston Bay. Baytown produced six hundred thousand barrels per day, pre-collapse. Marathon locations in Texas City and Pasadena, together with the Valero facilities in that area combine to produce just over a million barrels a day. It was a logical target for our enemies.”
“But they missed, right?” asked the new president.
“Yes, ma’am, although the point of impact has resulted in a devastating loss of life. The missile struck a few hundred yards off Stewart Beach at the east of the island. The underwater explosion created a tsunami that covered Galveston Island clear down to San Luis Pass nearly ten miles away. The force of the impact caused the sand comprising the east end of the island to push into the bay, filling the entrance to Galveston Bay. It’s unknown at this time whether the relocation of the island will rectify itself, or if we’ll need to undertake a massive dredging project.”
“What about the people of Galveston?”
“Ma’am, a thirty-foot wave swept across the entire island,” replied Deur. “By the time the wave, coupled with debris, hit the historic district at the Strand, it was too late for anyone to seek shelter. Most who went underground to avoid the nuclear blast drowned. Those who climbed to the highest points of the buildings may have survived. We’re sending choppers filled with search and rescue crews there now.”
“Kregg, casualty estimates?”
“Ma’am, most of the tourists left after the EMP attack in an attempt to go home. That’s a plus. The residents remained, choosing to stick together and live off fishing resources. The population of the island is around fifty thousand. My guess is that most perished.”
“Were any of the refineries damaged?” she asked.
“We’re waiting on a damage assessment from ExxonMobil and BP facilities in Texas City, which was closest to the point of impact.”
President Burnett’s aide slipped her a note, and she grimaced. Monty Gregg needed to speak with her urgently. She needed to address the food matter before she called him.
“Continue, Kregg.”
“Yes, ma’am. Well, Texas was spared in the bomb blast that struck the Shreveport area. Barksdale Air Force Base on the east side of the city took a direct hit. The mushroom cloud rose into the air but quickly dissipated to the east as a result of a strong wind. The problem that affects us the most are the masses of people attempting to cross our border from Bethany up to Caddo Lake. We need more personnel to hold them out.”
President Burnett stood and whispered to her aide. Then she addressed the group. “Everyone, please wait here while I make a quick phone call. I may have a solution.”
She and her aide hustled out of the conference room and found an empty office down the hall. She handed her aide the phone and instructed her to get Montgomery Gregg on the phone.
President Burnett walked aimlessly through the room as she considered the ramifications of her next actions. The nuclear attacks would drive even more refugees toward Texas. The only way to keep them out was through the use of force. The nuclear explosion near Shreveport had created a humanitarian crisis. There would be people with radiation poisoning seeking medical treatment and refuge in Texas.
“I have him on the phone, ma’am,” announced her aide.
“Good morning, Monty.”
“Marion, I have some news for you,” was his curt reply. Monty Gregg was a man who got to the point.
“Okay,” said President Burnett hesitantly.
“Our recon choppers know of your problems at Shreveport. The pressure is growing along other sections of the Texas border as well. I’m sending men to provide a show of for
ce, but I think you need to double your border fencing.”
“Tell Kregg Deur what you need and we’ll round it up. Monty, I can’t leave those people in Shreveport suffering. They need immediate medical attention. The ones who weren’t injured need to start a potassium iodide regimen to block the radiation from entering their systems. We both know Washington, or wherever they are, can’t move as fast as we can.”
“Marion, I hate to be callous, but they’re not your problem now, remember? That said, I might have a solution that can gain you favor with Harman, take the heat off your secession play, and feed Texans in the process.”
President Burnett sat down and gestured for her aide to join her. “Go ahead, Monty. I’m all ears, as our buddy Ross Perot once said.”
“Yeah, of course. Marion, I think you should contact President Harman with a proposal. The primary purpose of your call will be the crisis in Shreveport. Like you, she can’t turn her back on her citizens who are suffering, even if she doesn’t like your proposal.”
“What is my proposal?”
“Number one, she must formally recognize the Republic of Texas as a sovereign nation. This will prevent any future political fights as Texas gets on its feet as a new nation and the U.S. recovers from this nuclear war.”
“Okay, what else?” she asked.
“Second, tell her Texas will treat the ill at Shreveport, but in order to do so, you’ll need access to the Strategic National Stockpile locations in Texas.”
“Do you know where they are?”
“Not precisely,” Gregg responded, before adding, “I suspect they are in Dallas and Houston based upon my calculations. The locations were protected by statute with only a few members of government aside from the president having that knowledge.”
“Within these stockpile locations, will there be radiation drugs or conventional medications?”
“Absolutely,” Gregg replied. “My understanding is there are large amounts of prepackaged, individual ten-to-fourteen-day regimens for over three hundred thousand people per location. You’ll have access to large quantities of IV drugs, chemical antidotes, and medical supplies. Plus, there are pallets of MREs, bottled water, and ordinary household cleaning supplies. You can’t feed every household, but you can certainly help the hardest hit in large population areas.”
President Burnett smiled. “This could help me solve a couple of problems. Thank you for the suggestion, Monty. I’ll make the call shortly. Anything else?”
He waited a moment before responding. President Burnett knew him to be a very calculating man. As a general and a master chess player, Gregg was known to think through every move and troop deployment.
“Marion, Harman’s going to want more than what you’re offering.”
“Like what?”
“Opening the borders.”
“Monty, that’s not gonna happen. If we do that, we’ll be overrun.”
“I know, and I’m not suggesting you capitulate on this issue at all. Promise her you will consider a merit-based immigration system giving deference to family ties to Texas. However, each immigrant will come with a price, in gold or equivalent, that meets the needs of your new nation.”
President Harman chuckled. “You want me to set up a barter system for new residents?”
“Absolutely. It’s just like setting up a trade agreement with any nation. Marion, Texas is its own country now. You’ve got to start acting like one.”
Chapter 20
December 2
The Armstrong Ranch
Borden County, Texas
Major huddled in the corner with Lucy and Preacher. They’d stayed up all night monitoring the radio broadcasts and, frankly, waiting for more bombs to drop. The aftermath of any military bombing or attack was likely to make people feel vulnerable and fearful. As the U.S. and Texas went on alert for a second time because of the threats of nuclear Armageddon, the mental stability of those affected was put under an incredible strain.
Major and Lucy had had extensive discussions during their adoption of a prepper lifestyle regarding the state of mind necessary to survive. Not everyone, they acknowledged, was willing to make the sacrifices to prepare for a catastrophic event. For those who did undertake to prep, many were not able to withstand the intense pressure associated with the life-and-death decision-making. Even fewer anticipated a nuclear attack on America.
Everyone within their bunker appreciated what Major and Lucy had done to protect them, but it didn’t diminish the intense feeling of anxiety they experienced when the thought of a nuclear attack invaded their minds.
President Burnett had issued an all-clear announcement, and therefore it was time for everyone to return to their homes. However, unlike their first use of the bunker following the EMP, when the group couldn’t climb out fast enough, this time around, nobody was ready to leave.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have given them access to the radio,” started Lucy. “Even the limited amount of media coverage that came out of Dallas and Mexico frightened them. Seriously, I’ve never seen post-traumatic stress disorder, but it sure seems like some of our people are exhibiting symptoms.”
“Well, the first thing we can do is get everyone back to a normal routine,” said Major. “It’s a shame that they witnessed the nukes flying over our heads. Thank goodness they don’t have access to television, which would force them to relive the attacks over and over.”
Preacher nodded. “I agree. Fear is natural in folks, and their reactions to it will vary. I think their behavior might change, at least for a little while.”
“Let’s do this. They all look up to Antonio. Preacher, bring him in here, and let’s discuss how we should approach this.”
While Preacher left to fetch Antonio, his number one ranch hand, Major spoke to Lucy. “Honey, we can’t lose our people. If they get scared and try to head for Mexico because they think it’s safer, we won’t be able to protect the ranch.”
“I know,” said Lucy. “Let’s get Antonio’s input, but I think the four of us need to be very active in the daily activities around here. Not only because it’s prudent, but it also shows that we’re not afraid to be out on the ranch with them in the midst of all of this.”
“Good idea. I’ll focus on security. I’ll have Preacher and Antonio implement our plan to cut down the size of the ranch. You can focus on the barnyard and feeding everyone.”
Lucy nodded and then leaned into Major to whisper, “I’m going to start issuing meals on a daily basis. I don’t want them stockpiling too much, giving them the courage to hit the road.”
“Okay, but don’t make it obvious. I really believe their apprehension will subside over time, with a return to normalcy. Being down here can make you nuts anyway. I don’t know how people do it for long periods of time.”
She patted him on the chest and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for making this investment for all of us. Without it, all of them would have left screamin’ into the night. I, for one, would be worried out of my mind as well.”
“You’re welcome, honey. It’s hard to put a price tag or value on peace of mind.”
After confirming their plan with Antonio and identifying those families most likely to make a rash decision, Major and Preacher followed the same procedure as the day after the EMP attack. They tested the atmosphere for radiation and retrieved the RAD sticker to confirm it was safe. Unlike before, they went to great lengths to show everyone in the bunker the sticker. This seemed to have a positive effect on the families’ attitudes.
Then Major, Lucy, and Preacher emerged first through the bunker’s hatch to a clear, crisp Texas morning. Reluctantly, the families emerged, with several women and children jockeying to be the last to emerge. It took about ten minutes to help the group out of the shelter, and in just that short period of time, fear and anxiety diminished.
By the time Preacher and Antonio assigned tasks, coupled with the Armstrongs providing hugs to the wives and children, the images of the rockets soaring pa
st had disappeared from most minds.
Today was a new day.
Chapter 21
December 2
Near Winslow, Arizona
There was no more famous town along historic Route 66 than Winslow, Arizona. Referenced in the popular song from the early seventies performed by the Eagles, the town flourished economically until Interstate 40 bypassed the town in the late seventies. Today, its inhabitants were starving and in dire need of fresh water.
In the days following the EMP attack, small towns in Northern Arizona sent envoys to one another in an attempt to strike deals with civic leaders. Unlike the major cities, towns like Winslow and Holbrook didn’t experience the same levels of societal collapse. While it was true that lawlessness occurred, it was quickly tamped down by the citizens in that first week.
But then the lack of critical infrastructure in this arid part of the U.S. took its toll. The region had been experiencing an El Nino-induced drought for months. The Little Colorado River had begun to dry up. Reservoirs to the west in the Coconino National Forest had potable water safe for drinking in its lakes, but there was no efficient way to pump the water into tankers, even if the small towns had the capability.
Nearby Flagstaff had reached a critical stage in terms of its water supply. Smaller towns like Holbrook and Winslow were on the brink of being totally dry after just one week.
Deputy Chief Banda knew of Winslow’s water shortages. As he discussed travel options with Duncan, he came up with a solution. Every other day since the collapse of the grid, the town had sent their early seventies model gasoline tanker to Winslow to receive gasoline. In trade, they dispatched an antique milk-hauling truck filled with potable water from their gravity-fed tank atop a hill in the center of Peach Springs.
The water tank, built by the Army Corps of Engineers years ago, was full, with enough water to last the inhabits of Peach Springs for more than a year. In dire need of gasoline to run their generators and the few operating vehicles that were available to the Hualapai Tribe, they entered into a deal with Winslow to trade two thousand gallons of water for five thousand gallons of gasoline.
