299 Days VIII: The War

by Glen Tate

  “What is Santa getting you guys?” one of the officers asked them. It was Christmas Eve, after all. The girls began talking a mile a minute about all the toys they wanted.

  “I bet Santa brought all those things to the cabin,” the other officer finally said when the girls stopped talking. “He knows where you’ll be tonight.” He realized what he just said and suddenly got very quiet. Todd couldn’t understand why the officer was so disturbed about where the girls would be tonight.

  “Time to go,” Willden said as it was getting light at about 8:10 a.m. Before getting into the Range Rover, Chloe announced to the girls, “Daddy has a pretend gun to scare any bears away.”

  “But don’t worry,” Todd said. “There won’t be any bears. Know why?”

  “Because they’re scared of Daddy’s pretend gun!” his youngest said.

  “Let’s hope so,” Willden muttered under his breath.

  Everyone was anxious to get the dangerous journey started; they had been waiting all morning to get on their way. When it was finally time to go, time to leave everything they ever owned, Todd and Chloe were ready.

  “One last thing,” Willden said before he and Todd got into the Range Rover. He handed Todd the AK-47. At first Todd didn’t want to touch it, but then he saw Chloe was watching. He couldn’t wuss out in front of her, so he took the AK, but touched it softly so it couldn’t go off by accident.

  Willden saw Todd was afraid of the AK. “They don’t go off by themselves,” he said.

  “Does this have a safety?” Todd asked.

  “Yes,” Willden replied. “It’s that lever there,” he said pointing to the right side of the rifle. “When it’s up, like it is now, it’s on safe. So push that lever down when you want to fire.”

  “Okay,” Todd said, knowing that he never wanted to fire it.

  Once they were ready to go, they slowly left the safety of the subdivision. The other officers waved goodbye to them. Willden seemed very serious about the journey ahead. He didn’t talk at all.

  Todd and Chloe hadn’t been out of the subdivision in weeks. The subdivision next to theirs was also nice. They drove to a gate that was manned by private security contractors and Willden flashed his badge. They rolled right through.

  Todd had to break the silence. “That thing works pretty well,” he said, pointing toward the badge.

  “Yep,” Willden said. “That’s what you’re buying.”

  They went through another few subdivisions, with Willden flashing his badge each time. The neighborhoods were becoming less and less expensive as they headed to the streets that fed into the highway. Each neighborhood seemed more and more crime-ridden. There were a few burned out cars and garbage was strewn everywhere. One subdivision had a huge pack of wild dogs running around on the hunt. Todd was glad they were in a vehicle and not out in the open.

  They came to what looked like an official police roadblock. Willden flashed his badge and they breezed through. No other vehicles were allowed through it. Todd was thrilled that he was renting that badge, even if it did cost him everything he’d ever owned. Unfortunately, it appeared to be the best deal he’d ever made.

  The streets were deserted except for a few small packs of dogs. Many stores were burned out and had been looted.

  “Did someone break that window, Mom?” one of the girls asked.

  “No, silly,” Chloe said, “It broke when something fell on it.”

  “Did that building get burned?” the other girl asked.

  “No,” Chloe said. “They just painted it to look that way. Kinda silly, huh?”

  The girls nodded, and then Chloe changed the subject and got them talking about the Christmas presents Santa was bringing to them at the cabin, which occupied them for long enough.

  When they came up to I-405, there was a huge roadblock with military vehicles that looked like tanks and had machine guns on them.

  “Why are the Army men here?” one of the girls asked.

  “To help us,” Chloe said, and then she changed the subject back to what Santa was bringing.

  “You might want to put something over the AK,” Willden said to Todd. “These are National Guardsmen. They are under orders to seize assault rifles. Remember that you’re working with me on an official law enforcement assignment. Got it?”

  “You’re going to lie, Daddy?” one of the girls asked.

  “Of course not,” Todd said as Chloe handed him a jacket to put over the AK. “I’m helping the police by scaring away bears.”

  The girls cheered.

  A soldier came up to them. Willden had his badge out the window. The soldier carefully scrutinized it to make sure it was a legitimate badge.

  “What brings you out here, officer?” the soldier asked.

  “We’re transporting the family of my chief,” Willden said, very convincingly. “Paras are…” he paused and pointed at the girls and implied that he didn’t want to say everything in front of the girls. “The paras are, you know, making trouble.”

  “Who is your chief?” the soldier asked.

  “Nick Moyes,” Willden answered. “Want to confirm all this?” Todd froze.

  The soldier kept looking at Willden and Todd, and then Chloe and the girls. He didn’t want to waste his time talking to some police chief.

  “Aren’t they a little young to be the family of a police chief?” the solider asked. Todd felt his stomach knot up.

  “Second marriage,” Willden said. “And he’s pretty young. You know, with all the para activity, there have been a lot of replacement chiefs lately.” He put his finger up to his lip to signal to the soldier that he didn’t want to say anything that would disturb Chloe or the girls.

  “Oh, right,” the soldier said. His shift was over in ten minutes and he didn’t want the hassle of confirming all this. Besides, the second marriage thing kind of made sense. Everything Willden said to him appeared to make enough sense for him to let these people through.

  “You know we cannot guarantee anyone’s safety,” the soldier said like a robot. He used this phrase a hundred times a day.

  “Understood,” Willden said. “Is there anything I should know about down the road?”

  The soldier didn’t have the time or patience to tell this cop about all the threats out there. Besides, he didn’t want to scare the girls.

  “Just the usual,” he said. Willden nodded.

  “Good luck, officer,” the soldier said as he waved them through.

  As they went through the roadblock, soldiers on top of the tanks – or MRAPs, as Willden corrected Todd – were pointing machine guns at the Range Rover the whole time.

  Interstate 405 was empty, which Todd had never seen. “We’ll take I-90 east to Wenatchee,” Willden said. “We have enough gas if we don’t get delayed.”

  Everyone was silent, except the girls and Chloe, who were talking about Santa. Willden and Todd were tuning it out.

  They went through another military roadblock similar to the one on I-405. Willden used the same story about evacuating his chief’s family.

  Interstate 90 was empty, too, except for occasional police cars and military vehicles. There was one long convoy of semi-trucks with military escorts. “Food and fuel,” Willden said.

  They drove about twenty miles. As they went under an overpass, several vehicles zoomed down the on ramp and started to chase them.

  “Hold on!” Willden yelled and he punched the gas pedal. The Range Rover sped up, but it was no race car. As the vehicles came up behind them, Willden slammed on the brakes and the chasing vehicles sped on by. Their brake lights quickly came on. Todd was terrified.

  “Get out and point that AK at them!” Willden yelled. The girls were crying and Chloe was screaming.

  Todd did as he was told. “Use the Rover for cover!” Willden yelled. He had his AR pointed at the brake lights, which stayed on for a minute or so. It was the longest minute of Todd’s life. Finally, they went off and the vehicles drove off.

  “Whew!”
Todd said.

  “Except that they’re up there and we’ll probably meet up with them again,” Willden said. He was starting to regret taking on this job, despite how profitable it was.

  “We’ll have to go slower now,” Willden said. They crept along at 35 miles per hour for a few miles. They saw the pack of vehicles speeding back the other way.

  “Are they coming back for us?” Todd asked.

  “Nope,” Willden said. “If they wanted us, they would do a roadblock up ahead.” They kept driving and didn’t see the vehicles again.

  After about an hour, Willden looked at the gas gauge. He had just over half a tank. “Let’s get out and stretch our legs,” he said. That sounded good to Todd. The family got out and walked around for a bit.

  Willden seemed nervous. “Stay here,” he said, as he got into the Rover. He started it up and drove up to the family.

  “Hey, this isn’t working out,” he said, as he rolled down his window. “I’m heading back.”

  Todd laughed. Willden didn’t.

  “We’re not at Wenatchee yet,” Todd finally said.

  “That’s your problem,” Willden said. “I gotta get back before dark. See you guys.”

  This isn’t funny anymore, Todd thought. Before he knew it, he had lifted the AK to his shoulder, pointed it at Willden, and yelled “Stop!” The girls started screaming.

  Willden laughed. Finally, he said, “Go ahead and shoot, Todd.”

  Todd pulled the trigger, but the gun didn’t go off. Then he remembered that the safety was on. He pushed the lever down so it would fire, re-shouldered the AK and pulled the trigger again.

  Click.

  Willden started laughing. “It’s not loaded, dumbass.”

  Todd tried pulling the trigger again, but the gun did nothing.

  “The magazine has been empty the whole time,” Willden said.

  “Take care,” he said as he drove off.

  Chloe was screaming and the girls were crying.

  After an hour of arguing and trying to figure out what to do, Todd and Chloe finally sat down on the shoulder of the highway. Not a single vehicle had gone by the whole time.

  After a long while of sitting there silently, Todd and Chloe heard the sound of approaching cars. They felt a sense of relief.

  Until they saw that it was the same pack of vehicles that chased them. Todd shouldered his AK again and felt a hot punch in his chest and then heard a loud noise. He saw blood everywhere and it felt like someone spilled hot soup on his chest. Then he realized he’d been shot. The last thing he saw before he was swallowed by darkness was a group of men grabbing Chloe and the girls.

  Chapter 256

  Winter Solstice in Seattle

  (December 24)

  Professor Carol Matson was having a delicious cup of hot cocoa and listening to winter solstice music on NPR. She loved NPR. It was so soothing and civilized.

  Carol was in a great mood. Winter solstice was a marvelous time. It was a time to reflect on the year. There had sure been some scares this year. The initial shock of the empty store shelves and all the teabagger violence. All the people recently coming to Seattle to escape the right-wing terrorism. She had heard that the so-called Patriots were rounding up minorities and killing them. But that wasn’t happening in Seattle. People were treated right in Seattle. People were taken care of. They had equality there: free health care, free food, free everything. Well, when those things were available, which meant when the terrorists hadn’t interfered with the supplies. The government was doing its very best to provide for everyone, but the terrorist teabaggers were sabotaging that, which was why there were supply problems.

  Carol loved diversity; people of all races who, thankfully, all seemed to agree on things. In Seattle, everyone agreed that the government was doing the right thing. Instead of her being a “liberal” in redneck country, now everyone in Seattle seemed to think like her. Progressive. Smart. Open-minded. Caring. She felt like the decent people were finally in charge. People like her.

  Carol looked forward to a great new year. Things were on the right track. There was way too much suffering out there, but people could still make it into Seattle. They would be safe there. They could have their own little country there. There would be no more rednecks telling them what to do.

  The news—NPR was the only station left—was positive. There were small groups of terrorists in the South and mountain West, the “Confederates” as the news called them, who were still performing their killings. New Congresspersons and Senators had been appointed for those states and Congress was meeting again. Somewhere.

  But, order had been re-established. The federal government was functioning just fine. There were lots of news stories about national parks being open and full of visitors. Well, a few visitors on camera. The postal service was working. There were long delays because of the restrictions on using the freeways and the gas rationing. Carol hadn’t actually gotten any mail, but she’d heard on the news that the postal service was working. There was no more junk mail; one good thing to come from the Crisis. There were lots of stories on the news about celebrities and how things were just like the old days for them. Shopping, having parties. Just like normal.

  Seattle was certainly doing fine. While food was in short supply, Carol, as an FCorps employee, had plenty of credits on her FCard. And the utilities were on. Not bad.

  But all the good things in Seattle came at a price. Carol wondered how her brother was doing. She hoped he had just grown out of his rebellious “Patriot” nonsense. He was always a practical guy—a survivor. She and he had survived their terrible childhood, so he would probably be fine. Besides, he was smart. He probably realized the right-wing stuff was a lie. He had probably renounced it and was pitching in for the Recovery there in Olympia. He would be fine. And so would his great kids. She missed them, too.

  Carol started thinking of little stocking stuffer gifts for her FCorps students. While they didn’t have anymore “Christmas” traditions in Seattle—that was so divisive—they could still do stocking stuffers. She had heard stockings were a Scandinavian pagan tradition for winter solstice, so it was okay.

  Carol got her coat on and went out for a walk. She was getting a latte at the university bookstore. As long as there were lattes, everything was fine.

  Chapter 257

  Christmas Moonshine in Forks

  (December 24)

  The “Collapse Christmas” in Forks was truly memorable. Steve Briggs knew people would talk about it for generations thereafter. It was an amazing mix of being incredibly different than other Christmases while, at the same time, being very similar.

  Christmases in the few years leading up to the Collapse had been slowly changing in Forks. With D2, the Second Great Depression, going on before the Collapse, Christmases became poorer and poorer. So a sparse Christmas, when it came to presents, not traditions, was not new in rural Forks.

  This was true in Steve’s family. A big part of his pay as the manager of the local parts store was his performance bonus that was given out on the first of December. Steve would wait all year for it and planned his household’s major purchases around it. He tried to split the bonus between necessities—new tires for his wife’s car and a new water heater—and nice things. The year before the Collapse, he managed to get his wife the really fancy food processor she wanted. He got himself a gun safe, which turned out to be a very valuable thing to have.

  Needless to say, there was no “performance” bonus this year from the auto parts store. Hell, there was no job at the auto parts store after the Collapse in May. So there would be no food processors or gun safes. Of course, there were no trucks making deliveries to Forks, so there weren’t any gifts coming in even if people had money.

  The total absence of big gifts this year was really different. Steve, who prided himself on self-reliance and not needing “stuff,” was surprised by how ingrained the “stuff” part of Christmas had become for him. He even looked at the calendar to m
ake sure it was really December 25 because he couldn’t believe it was actually Christmas without all the usual holiday shopping.

  That being said, the gifts were better this year because they actually meant something for a change. He went to one of the many “garage sales” in Forks, where people bartered their things to each other, and got a nice rolling pin for his wife. It cost him 10 rounds of .22. She had mentioned that she needed one to make pies.

  His wife made him a gift, a comforter cover sewn out of pieces of their old clothes. A scrap of shirt here, a scrap of a pair of shorts there. Each scrap had a memory to it. He remembered wearing a shirt or her wearing a dress that was now part of the comforter. Best of all, his wife told him that they could snuggle under the new comforter cover anytime the kids were asleep and, as she put it, “you might get lucky.”

  That was one thing that was way better for Steve these days – sex. Lots and lots of really great sex with his lovely wife. They had way more time now that they weren’t rushing around all the time. They spent most of the day together and that turned both of them on. On top of that, they both really needed each other now, and they appreciated each other. Not to mention that it was cold, and they needed to make the best out of some bad circumstances. Steve would take the comforter—and all that getting lucky—over a gun safe any day.

  The traditions of Christmas were back in the Briggs’ home and Forks, in general. One was the Briggs’ tradition of the kids opening a little present on Christmas Eve and putting milk and cookies out for Santa. There were only a few dairy cows in town. The owner made sure all the kids in town had a little bit of milk for Santa that year. Steve almost cried when he saw the kids putting the milk and cookies out. Some things were the same, even with all that was going on around them.

  Steve had hope for the future. Despite the Collapse, his kids could put out milk and cookies for Santa. And their kids would also be able to years later. There was continuity between the generations, even with all the massive changes and misery.