"Operation Venom Apocalypse, Mike. Venom Apocalypse is a go in two hours. See you soon."
"No, they can't do that!" I yelled, but the line was already dead. A cold shiver ran through my body despite the sun's warmth.
Venom Apocalypse was conceived as the last hope to save the United States; it involved a first-strike nuclear attack on every country deemed a threat, and since the French Empire now spanned the world, so too would Venom Apocalypse. I slid the phone into its holder and walked back inside; trying to figure out how to tell my daughter that she might have to spend the next five years underground, because without a doubt, the French would shoot back.
2
Once inside the store, I looked at the few shoppers who could qualify to get in, and felt a deep sadness. I wanted to save them should the Denver area go up in nuclear flames, but I couldn't. Food was already scarce, and would be nearly nonexistent once fallout polluted the land. I pushed a shopping cart down an aisle, loading it with peanuts, jerky, and canned goods.
"There you are!" Rhonda exclaimed when she turned into my aisle. "Thank you again for your kindness." Little Charlie giggled happily in the shopping cart seat, suckling on a baby cookie, and making me feel even worse—this could be his last day of life. I wanted to bring them to the Homestead, but I had already gained a dog and a Presidential entourage to feed on this trip. Plus, if I told her what was about to happen, she might want to bring her extended family and friends.
"Don't mention it," I replied weakly.
"I got powdered milk and some seeds just like you suggested."
"That's good." Seeds will be useless in radiated soil and you and Charlie will die.
"What's wrong? You seem upset," she observed.
"Can you do me a favor?" I asked.
"Absolutely!"
"Save some of the money I gave you and use if for gas." I had to try something so that I could continue living with myself. "Take Charlie up to the mountains for a couple days. Vail or even Glenwood Springs would be better. Can you do that?"
"Why, Mike?" Concern flushed into her eyes.
"I had a run in with the motorcycle gang outside."
"Yeah, they raided my place while we were out for a walk. They drove away just as we were returning. If we had been home…"
"It wouldn't have been good. They warned they'll come back with reinforcements, and I'm just worried for you. Take a small trip, which will give me time to deal with them if they do decide to return. Please?"
"Sure, Mike. That sounds like a good idea."
I exhaled with relief. "Thank you! I'm sure Charlie will love the adventure."
"I don't know. He's not too fond of road trips yet. So how's mountain life treating you up there?"
I got the feeling she wasn't taking my road trip idea seriously, but with two hours until America launched her nuclear arsenal, I didn't have the time to convince her. "Good. Actually, I really need to get back home," I said. "Lots of work to do."
"But what if the gang returns like you said? Don't you need to be here to deal with them?"
Whoops.
"I'll get my family home then return."
"Mike, are you sure there isn't something else?"
"Just head into the mountains when you're done, okay? I've got to go." I pushed my cart away leaving her staring at me in confusion.
I found Lori in the next aisle over, a pink leash in her hand attached to a pink collar around the dog's neck.
"Pink?" I said. "That should provoke fear in the enemy's hearts."
"It's the last one," she replied. "Dad, it's a thousand bucks. Is that okay?"
"No, but get it anyway. Where's Karen?"
"Picking up the order from the butcher."
"Okay, let's go."
"What's gotten into you?" she asked.
"I'll tell you when we get out of here." I walked in the direction of the meat department with her following. As I went, I piled more food in the cart until it was nearly overflowing.
"That's a lot of cereal," Lori said from behind. "Should we get some dog food?"
"You said she could fend for herself."
"Sadie."
"Huh?"
"I'm going to call her Sadie, and a little food might be nice to get her going."
"Fine. Go grab a cart and get a few bags, and then meet us at the checkout. Hurry. Understand?"
"Geez, Dad, if I didn't know better I'd think you were afraid of something."
I stopped and turned around. "Just hurry."
She gave me a confused look too, and then her face grew serious. "You are afraid of something."
"Yes."
"Okay, I'll meet you up front." She hurried away with Sadie in tow, and I continued on to the meat department.
The butcher loaded Styrofoam containers full of meat and dry ice onto a pushcart as Karen checked the contents of each and wrote it down on the clipboard she held.
"Almost done?" I asked.
"Just a couple more. They only had ten pounds of beef left, and a couple chickens. No pigs, but some wild boar. Most of it's venison steaks, some ground, and even some sausage. I stayed away from the rodents. Hope that's okay?"
"Sure," I said as the butcher walked away on another trip to the freezer.
"And we've always got fish from the river."
"Maybe not much longer. Troy just told me the president is headed our way."
"What?"
"Negotiations with France broke down. We have to hurry."
"Is France invading?" she asked.
"If not now, they will once we start nuking them."
"Nuking? They're going to use the nukes?"
"Yeah. Operation Venom Apocalypse." Like me, Karen had been briefed on why they built a bomb shelter below our cabin. The Homestead was designed to be impenetrable and self-sufficient in the event of an invasion or a nuclear war, and it was also purposefully located underneath the home of two immortals, should they be required as a last line of defense. My fellow immortal looked at me with newfound fear in her eyes.
"How long?" she whispered as the butcher returned with two more containers.
"Less than two hours."
"That's it," the butcher said. "How have you been, Mike?"
"Better. Thank you very much, Jerry. We're in kind of a rush." Karen took my cart while I pushed the heavier pushcart.
"You're not going to verify the last boxes?" Jerry asked after us.
"We have sort of an emergency. Sorry, but thanks again!" Karen replied as we walked away.
As we traversed from the back of the store towards the front, I noticed that the aisles had become deserted. "Where is everyone?" I wondered aloud.
"There." Karen pointed to the front of the store where a small gathering of people stood around a ceiling mounted television. Most of Hollywood had faded away, but the news still pumped out daily depression, delivered in large doses by satellite to those who had power to receive it. I saw an anchor talking on the television, but couldn't hear him yet. At the bottom of the screen though, I did see the words 'Breaking News: Air Force One Shot Down'. We walked faster.
As we came up to the back of the crowd, a cashier used the television remote to turn up the volume. "I have just been informed that we have an update from our Washington correspondent," the anchor said. The image flipped to a woman standing in front of the White House.
"Thank you, Blake," she began. "As you can imagine, pandemonium reigns in the nation's capital. We just received a press release that several military aircraft crossed into the United States from Ontario, Canada. It is believed that they intercepted Air Force One and shot it down. President Moreau of the French Empire has claimed responsibility and…" She paused, looked down at a piece of paper. When she looked back up, her lips trembled and there was a glimmer of moisture in her eyes. "And has declared war on the United States." She took a deep breath. "President Banneker is presumed dead. I repeat, President—" The image flickered and then went black.
The people in front o
f me began to murmur worried thoughts to each other, while my own mind churned out possibilities. Not thirty minutes before the attack, Admiral Thomas had told me he was on Air Force One with the president. Had our call been intercepted? If so, then the French might have an idea of what Venom Apocalypse was, and circumvent such an attack with one of their own. Assassinating the president could serve the purpose. While I wasn't a fan of French rule, it was probably a better option than destroying the world with nuclear bombs, but then the original anchor returned and destroyed all hope.
"This just in," he said, looking shaken, but then he stopped speaking and glanced to someone off screen before returning to the camera. "It is best you see for yourselves," he said in a somber voice. "We have an affiliate in Arlington, Virginia with footage."
His image faded, replaced by a shot taken from a tall building. In the distance, a dark and gray mushroom cloud flickering with lightening bolts billowed into the sky. "Oh my God! Oh my God!" a man out of view yelled. "They nuked DC! God help us! Look! A missile is—"
And then the television went black with a little banner popping up that read signal loss. The anchor from New York City failed to return.
I stood in shock, with memories of a similar catastrophe darting teasingly close to my conscious mind before fading once more, but I knew they had something to do with several cities in France being turned into a nuclear wasteland. The world had gone for decades without breaking out into nuclear war, and now it seemed like humans were tossing the hideous weapons around as if this were a game of beanbag toss. The government and my family insisted I was a god capable of stopping the insanity, but compared to what man had made, I was nothing—just a guy who couldn’t cut his finger. I wanted to crawl away to my mountain hideout and forget the sickness humanity had wrought upon itself, but as I came out of my reverie, I found many scared faces staring at me.
3
"Mike," Karen said quietly. "We have to help them."
Rhonda picked up little Charlie out of the shopping cart and cradled him protectively, giving me a horrid vision of them being vaporized by nuclear winds. A compassionate feeling overwhelmed me that was usually reserved for family. All of these people were mine to protect; that was my destiny—my purpose.
"Everyone," I said, pulling myself out of despair. I looked at a couple dozen people who were more scared than I could ever fathom as an immortal. "We have to assume the French are intent on destroying America. We have to go. I have a shelter that can hold a hundred easily, and we'll make room if more show up. Gather everything you can here, load it up in your vehicles, and follow us there. If you don't have enough gas to drive an hour, then get a ride with someone who does."
"I have to get my wife!" Jerry the butcher blurted. I wanted to tell him he could die trying to save her, but I didn't, knowing that death was better than guilt from abandoning those you love.
"For those with family not here," I said. "Go get them, but hurry. I cannot stress that enough. Hurry! We are leaving here as soon as we load up. Ten minutes and no more. My place is past Eldora. Go up 4th of July Road and we're half-a-mile after the campground. Tell others as you go. Once you get there, you may have to walk it if you don't have a 4-wheel drive." The name, 4th of July Road, was misleading; it was actually a dirt trail that meandered through heavy terrain. "Now go!" Our new four-legged friend, Sadie, barked once as if to reinforce my command.
The two guards that formerly granted entry now held the doors open to expedite exit. I estimated about ten people departed to retrieve loved ones, while the rest loaded grocery carts with essential supplies. The inside of the store resembled a contest where people would get everything free that they could load within five minutes, except nobody was smiling and having fun. The former gatekeeper, Cecil, looked on nervously, voicing concern that when the boss found out about his store being raided, he would shoot Cecil on sight. I convinced him that his days as store security were over; it would soon be a pile of glowing rubble, probably with the boss under it.
On my cue, everyone finished their free-for-all and headed for the exit. We wheeled our carts out the doors without paying, as money had suddenly become trivial.
"Do you think they'll drop a nuke here?" Lori asked as Karen and I loaded the back of the Jeep.
"Perhaps," I said, not wanting to frighten her, but not wanting to lie either. "I would think they'd worry about Colorado Springs first though, with NORAD and Cheyenne Mountain there, and then perhaps the missile installations in Wyoming."
"Maybe," Karen said as I handed her a Styrofoam box to load. "We've shot down the rest of their missiles and launched our own nukes?"
"We'll find out once we get home," I replied as we finished stacking supplies to the roof. "Lori, you and Sadie get situated in the backseat. I need to get everyone moving."
"Okay, Dad. Sadie! Come on!" She climbed into the back and the athletic dog easily jumped into the raised vehicle after her.
Karen slammed the back hatch closed, turned to me, and said, "You know we're going to have to leave her. We're the only ones capable of fighting this."
"Hopefully we just have to repair, and not fight. If we counterattacked, France will be too busy to invade."
"Hopefully," she agreed.
"Either way, Lori will be in good hands. Hop in. I'll—" My head began to swim as an intense dizziness overtook me. I stumbled back, vaguely hearing Karen call my name in concern. And then, like a gunshot to the brain, a presence slammed into my consciousness. An image formed of a muscular man with long black hair and eyes that shimmered with intense blue light.
"Michael, forgive me for what I have brought upon Earth," he said with a powerful voice that boomed through my head. "Hathor's venom controls me; I cannot resist. She has sent me to disable America's countermeasures, but I wanted to warn you in my moment of freedom. The demon's blood that flows in your veins will offer you some protection from her. Unfortunately, it did not work for me, as my venom is too strong and removed this effect. For now, she is my master. You must kill her, or kill me, for without me she is nothing."
I do not have the power to do this!
"You did not come to these mountains by accident. Find the cave dwellers. They hold the key. They can help you, but it will not be pleasant. All is lost if you fail." He vanished and in his place appeared violent and painfully blinding nuclear explosions popping off one after another like fireworks.
I staggered and then fell to the ground, briefly blacking out.
"Mike! Oh, Jesus! Wake up!" Karen yelled.
Slowly I opened my eyes and saw several concerned faces huddled over me with Karen and Lori's being the closest. "I'm…I'm all right," I muttered, even though my head was knotted with pain.
"What happened?" Lori asked, her voice close to panic.
"Some sort of vision…a powerful vision." Karen helped me to my feet.
"Looked like a seizure," Cecil said from behind. "My brother had them."
"No, this was real. It was a man asking me to forgive him." I didn't want to share details with the entire group, worried they would lose faith in my sanity and thereby me. "I recognized him."
"Who was it?" Karen asked.
"I saw him on television a couple times. It was the husband of Monique Moreau, the French President."
"Definitely had to be a seizure," Cecil chimed in again. "With hallucinations thrown in from all the stress. I seriously doubt Raisin Moreau channeled into your brain to apologize for this shit."
"Raison…yes, that's him," I said, pronouncing it how I had heard on the news, Ry-son, instead of the dried-grape name Cecil had used. "Maybe you're right, Cecil. Let's just get going."
Still feeling angst over the intrusive vision, I got behind the steering wheel of the Jeep, and pulled out of the parking lot. A caravan of pickups, SUVs, and cars followed, and as we drove through town more joined us, having either retrieved their loved ones or heard the news of impending disaster. We exited the city and made our way up Boulder Canyon Drive where tal
l cliffs surrounded us protectively on either side. At least I hoped they would offer some protection should the bomb fall before we arrived to the Homestead.
"So Raison Moreau came to you in a vision and asked for your forgiveness?" Karen asked. "That doesn't make sense."
"There was more," I replied. "I didn't want to frighten the others. He claimed to be here disabling the country's countermeasures, and that Hathor's venom is making him do it. He must be talking about his wife, President Moreau, but I'm not sure, and I don't know why he would come to me."
"Uh, Dad," Lori said, leaning forward from the back. "There are some things I haven't told you. I didn't think it was important, but…"
"You sure didn't mind calling my wife a demon." Karen grimaced next to me. "What can be worse than that?"
"I wasn't in France with you so I don't know what happened there, but on your son's island, you and this Monique had a…well, you had a thing. It was after Karen turned into a demon and ran off."
"Watch out!" Karen cried. For a second I thought she was yelling at Lori, but then I took my eyes off Lori in the rear view mirror and looked ahead. The Jeep had swerved precariously close to a wall of rock. I yanked the steering wheel hard, recovering, thinking that behind me, Cecil probably thought I had had another seizure.
"Sorry," I said. "Did you say I met Monique Moreau on an island owned by my son? Who is this son, and why would I meet the President of France there?"
"Andre was your adopted son in the 1940s, and Monique was his adoptive mother. Her name was Elizabeth then."
"I remember that name, Elizabeth, from the dreams you had in the hospital," Karen said. "I also remember the island. It was the last thing I remember actually, but it's vague...like a dream."
"And then, as you know," Lori continued with her torture. "You took on the name Michael Moreau when you defended France. Michael Moreau, Monique Moreau…get it?"
"She was my wife?" I whispered, feeling Karen's tension next to me.
"Um, yeah, from World War II."
Venom of the Gods Page 34
