Radioactive and The Decay Dystopian Super Boxset- A Dirty Bomb and Nuclear Blast Prepper Tale of Survival

by James Hunt

  Sister Bonnie looked up from her notes. The packed room was silent and hanging on her every word.

  “I wish I could stand here and tell you that the worst is over, and that our challenges are a thing of the past. But it seems that new challenges face us in ways we can no longer ignore. There is a danger we face from outside. We understand that the world, as it exists today, still holds such danger that has yet to be eliminated. We understand perfectly that thieves, murderers, liars, adulterers, and their most staunch supporters still cling onto life like cockroaches under cover of darkness. It is no surprise that we have to be vigilant to protect ourselves against those who have managed to outlast their own destruction. This is what we know and understand. Brothers and sisters, I have called you here today to witness the revelation of a new message passed down to me.”

  Sister Bonnie shuffled through her notes then found a page nearly illegible with mad scribbling from the night before. She looked down at the page, tried to read it then tossed it aside. She proceeded to deviate from her written words and talk directly to the audience.

  “Yesterday two members of our congregation were attacked while gathering much-needed supplies for our community. These selfless and often thankless tasks are perhaps the most honorable service in the line of the Seventh Order. These men act as providers, and in doing so they ensure our survival. They were ambushed by outsiders during their mission. Our surviving members, Walter, Harold, and Terry, brought word back to camp of a bloodthirsty group of men lost to their own savagery. Our surviving members barely escaped with their lives, and they told a story of a heroic battle where our brothers, Chris and Joey, sacrificed themselves so that the rest of us could live. The outsiders killed our men then stole the supplies we so greatly needed.”

  Collective gasps of shock flowed throughout the crowd like a contagion. Joey’s parents burst into tears and heavy sobbing from their seats in the front pew. The crowd grew louder in their outrage. Sister Bonnie attempted to calm them.

  “There is no need for panic. We must be strong. Take heed that this is not the end and that it’s another test of our will. Listen to me, and hear my word,” Sister Bonnie said while raising her authoritative voice.

  The crowd grew silent and she continued.

  “We are not violent people. We are not like the rest of them. We are of a higher order. We are gentle and peaceful, as is our guidance.”

  From his position in the back of the church, Walter could feel disappointment growing in him. He had feared that Sister Bonnie was going to suggest a passive path. Then something happened in her eyes, and Walter saw a spark of anger he hadn’t seen in her before.

  “But when you poke the beast,” she said. “When you provoke the sleeping giant, we are left with no choice but to defend ourselves, and defend ourselves we must.”

  The motivated crowd clapped and cheered in lively support.

  “When we are faced with no other option than to finish the work that has started, that is what we must do. No longer will these cockroaches hide under cover, and wait their time out. We will ensure that they join the others of their kind as we send them to the great below.”

  The crowd erupted in a standing ovation. Sister Bonnie had grown more passionate and lively with each moment. She had reached her highest point of zest when she suddenly shifted her abrasive tone to one of calmness.

  “This is our test. And it is a test we have not asked for. We do not want the wanton and senseless murder of life, even those who wish us harm, because we are fair people, loving people, and righteous people. Because we are all of these things, we will give our enemies a choice. They can swear allegiance to the Seventh Order, join us, provide us the ones who committed these heinous acts so that we may see them punished, and then they shall live.”

  The confused crowd went silent again and sat back down in their seats.

  “But if they do not accept our offer, then we are left with no choice but to take action. Loyal members of the Seventh Order, last night I was given a message that says we will have a new home. Some of you know it as New Haven. This is a community that will keep us safe. For you see, it was members from New Haven who killed our brothers.”

  The crowd gasped again.

  “And yes, they do know where we are, and yes, they are a threat. But we also know where they are, and we shall give them the option of joining us or perishing. Then we will take New Haven for our own!”

  The crowd stood and cheered in another standing ovation. Sister Bonnie raised her arms into the air and spoke inaudibly to the ceiling as though she was looking into the heavens. Walter shook his head from the back of the room. He felt that her plan let New Haven off too easily. Plus he feared she might discover his exaggerated and false report of what had happened. He had to ensure she never found out before it was too late. Suddenly, Ralph, the pony-tailed guard, stormed into the church in a fury. He pushed his way through people and stopped in the center of the pews.

  “They’re here!” he shouted. “The outsiders are here!”

  Sister Bonnie froze and looked to him. The crowd stopped clapping with surprise and panic stricken on their faces.

  “Who is here?” Sister Bonnie asked carefully.

  “The New Haven group. There’s over twenty people out there. They came in two trucks. I tried to keep them from entering, but that sheriff guy insisted on talking with you.”

  The crowd shook in fear. People called out in a panic. Children started crying. Walter put his hat on, tapped Harold and Terry, and signaled that they go outside. They slipped out while the crowd cried in protest to New Haven’s arrival.

  “Stay calm,” Sister Bonnie demanded.

  The crowd quieted and looked to her for support.

  “I only want a small group to accompany me and the remainder of you to wait in here.”

  Sister Bonnie called out for Walter, but he was nowhere to be seen. She left the podium and made her way through the crowd.

  “Where’s Walter?” she asked.

  “I think he went outside,” a man standing by the door told her. Sister Bonnie looked to the commotion of the crowd in the pews.

  “Give me ten people, now. We mustn’t stall any longer.”

  Sister Bonnie left the church with ten men and women at her side, ready to address their uninvited guests.

  At a safe distance from the church, a group of twenty people from New Haven stood by two parked pickup trucks. The Sheriff was at the front of the pack. He forbade Paul, Rob, Carlie, and David from going, to avoid any unnecessary incite. He brought fresh faces with him, though they were all heavily armed and ready. Jordan was one of the people in the group. He had reluctantly joined the Sheriff’s call for a “few good men” to accompany him to the church. It had been a long, early, and somber morning at New Haven. Jordan knew very little, and for a man with a background in military intelligence, not knowing all the details was bothersome. Paul was acting strange. The Sheriff was tight-lipped. Everything was speculative. Ryan’s wife was informed of his loss, and took it very harshly, as expected. She broke down into hysterics, took her two children inside their home and didn’t come out, even for his burial.

  After Ryan’s service, the Sheriff explained to the perplexed townspeople what he knew to be going on.

  “We need to contain this situation before it gets out of control. The group calls themselves the Seventh Order. They’re a serious bunch and I don’t want to take any chances. What happened to Ryan was tragic, and I was told that they lost two of their own in the shootout. You better believe they’re going to want retribution. Now, it’s true, we have reached out to them before, offered aid and assistance, so there shouldn’t be any reason for this to get more out of hand.”

  “Bring them to justice for killing Ryan!” one man shouted out from the crowd, followed by cheers of approval.

  “Yeah, you’re a Sheriff, do something about it, arrest them!” a woman shouted.

  The Sheriff raised a hand in the air.

 
“We need to remain calm through this to prevent further violence. Their group travels on foot, and we aren’t going to wait for them to come to us. I want to take two trucks over there, with about fifteen people. I’m willing to work this out, but they have to know we mean business.”

  Jordan stood next to Paul and Julie watching the Sheriff from the crowd.

  “What the hell happened out there?” he asked Paul.

  Paul looked over to him and then to Julie.

  “I’ll tell you later,” he said.

  “I need about twenty armed volunteers to go with me to their camp. No more wasting time,” the Sheriff said.

  “You were shot at?” Jordan asked.

  “Not now, Jordan,” Paul said.

  “We need to get the hell out of this town,” Jordan said under his breath.

  “I know. I’m working on it,” Paul replied.

  Jordan looked over to Margie a few rows ahead of him. She was lost in deep concern. He liked her or was starting to like her. She filled the void of his lost family, though he knew very little about her. She had mentioned being widowed but didn’t go into detail. Perhaps he could stay and get to know her. Then he thought of the danger surrounding them and felt foolish for thinking of romance. Maybe he could take her with them.

  “I want everyone to know that the tragedy of Ryan’s death is not in vain. The medicine they retrieved has been distributed to our sick. Hopefully, it does the trick and everyone starts getting better. After this, I’d like to get with our favorite town nurse and get an update on how everyone is doing,” the Sheriff said.

  Margie raised her hand from the small crowd so that the Sheriff could see her.

  Julie looked up to Paul.

  “Does that mean Tommy is going to be okay,” she said.

  “Tommy?” Paul asked.

  “My friend, the boy whose room you stormed into,” Julie replied with an annoyed tone. Paul thought to himself.

  “Yes, of course, Tommy. I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my mind. Why don’t we go check on him later and see how he’s doing.”

  “Do you mean it?” Julie asked.

  “Yes, I’d like to see his mother, maybe even apologize to her,” Paul said.

  “You don’t need to apologize. You helped get the medicine,” Julie said with a smile. The sudden admiration in her eyes took Paul by surprise.

  “Thank you for that,” he said.

  Paul looked around. Plenty of people had attended Ryan’s service, but there were many still recovering from illness. New Haven seemed like good people, and he couldn’t help but feel a certain closeness to them. It was time to make a decision. It was time to make a stand.

  “If this turns into some suburban war, half of the townspeople are sick in bed. Those cult people will wipe us out,” Jordan said into Paul’s ear.

  “I’m going to try to get Margie to come with us.”

  Paul looked at him with surprise. He could have easily responded by telling Jordan that he was an idiot, but he had been trying to make amends.

  “We need to leave tonight,” Jordan continued. “We steal a car, I don’t care. I’m not sticking around to be target practice for some cult.”

  Paul didn’t respond but looked back in understanding.

  “Jordan!” a man called out.

  It was Alan, one of the men who worked in the operations center. He had helped Jordan conduct much of the research necessary to gain the info about the nuclear strikes. He ran to them.

  “Hey, the Sheriff is asking for you. He wants us to come with.”

  Jordan tried to look away, but then Alan called out for him again.

  “Come on, let’s get ready to go.”

  Paul looked to Jordan. “Shit,” Jordan said.

  The crowd began to disperse as a group of hotheads surrounded Jordan.

  “We need some new faces, no one who could be recognized by the cult group. Sheriff doesn’t want to stir up any emotions once we get there.”

  It was all the answer Paul needed. Somehow, someway he was going to get a car, even if it meant stealing one. The Sheriff was talking to Margie with the town pastor standing nearby. Several of the people went back to their homes. It had been a strange, dark day, and there was no telling what lay on the horizon.

  “I should really stay here,” Jordan told the men. “I don’t really feel comfortable going. Something about getting shot would just ruin my day.”

  The men laughed but remained undeterred. “Come on now, Jordan,” the biggest of them said with a slap to Jordan’s back. “We won’t let anything happen to ya’.”

  Paul leaned in and spoke in Jordan’s ear. “Just go, I’ll get everything arranged,” he said.

  “Don’t you think about leaving me,” Jordan said back as the men pushed him away.

  Paul felt a tug on his arm and he looked down to see Julie. “Can we go visit Tommy now?” she asked. Paul thought for a moment.

  “Okay,” he said.

  As they walked down the street, Paul heard the Sheriff call to him. He stopped with a sigh. “Yes, Sheriff,” he said turning around.

  “Here’s the keys to my Chevy Malibu, it’s in the garage,” the Sheriff said handing him a single car key.

  “Gas is at half a tank. I ran her last night, just to make sure she still runs.”

  Paul’s hands squeezed the key in his palm. “Sheriff, I don’t know what to say,” Paul said. “I really don’t want to desert the town just yet.”

  “We’ll survive,” the Sheriff interrupted. “I know you’re a man on a mission, and I want to see you accomplish it.”

  “There’s one issue though. Jordan is going with you,” Paul said. The Sheriff placed a hand on Paul’s shoulder.

  “I need Jordan, don’t worry, nothing is going to happen to him. You have the car keys, and you know now that I’m a man of my word. Get yourself packed and ready and we’ll be back in an hour with your friend.”

  Before Paul could respond, the Sheriff walked away. About halfway down the street, the Sheriff stopped and turned back to Paul.

  “You know what’s funny? My name is Peter. My wife’s name was Mary. Your name is Paul. It’s like that one folk group, Peter, Paul, and Mary,” The Sheriff laughed, receiving a smile from Paul in return. “Be careful with that Malibu, it used to belong to Mary,” he added.

  Paul remained in the street holding the key with Julie at his side. “Can we go see Tommy now?” she asked in an impatient tone.

  “Yes,” Paul said. “Let’s go see Tommy.”

  “That’s far enough!” Walter shouted to the New Haven group.

  Terry--with his bobbing blond hair--and Harold--with his large scar--followed behind with their rifles raised in the air. After the warning, they stopped at a sizable distance from the Sheriff and his group. In reaction, the men in the Sheriff’s group raised their weapons, armed with everything from rifles, to pistols, to shotguns. The Sheriff kept his pistol holstered to his side as he waved his arms in the air.

  “Hold on, let’s start this off on the right foot. We just came here to talk, to reach an understanding,” he said.

  Jordan had been handed a .38 caliber revolver by one of the townspeople when they left New Haven.

  “What do you want me to do with this?” he asked.

  “Use it if you have to,” the man told him.

  Jordan stood to the rear of the second truck holding the revolver in the air. He knew that he should have brought his own pistol but forgot it through all the commotion.

  “This is bullshit… this is bullshit…” he repeated under his breath.

  “The only understanding that we’re going to have is you getting the hell off our land,” Walter said.

  “I know there are a lot of mixed feelings and emotions right now. I know that we’ve both lost people as a result of an avoidable tragedy,” the Sheriff.

  Walter examined the group.

  “Where are the dirty sons of bitches that killed our people?”

  “You know tha
t wouldn’t be fair if we brought them. Wouldn’t be fair to us, and wouldn’t be fair to you.”

  “So you’ve said your piece, what else you got?” Walter asked.

  The Sheriff gave Walter a closer look.

  “I’m surprised in you, son. Only a couple of days ago you came to us, we took you in, and offered assistance. Now it seems like that’s all in the past.”

  “My gratitude for the charitable nature of others has its limits. I will say that it’s the only reason you and your group are still standing,” Walter said with provocation.

  “I was hoping we could negotiate something. Reach some sort of compromise,” the Sheriff said.

  “That’s exactly what I was going to suggest,” Sister Bonnie’s voice echoed from behind Walter. She arrived with a small group of followers at each side. “I would very much like to negotiate.”

  Walter turned to Sister Bonnie, trying to keep her from getting any closer.

  “Sister Bonnie, it’s not safe for you out here. Please, let me talk to these gentlemen on your behalf,” Walter pleaded.

  “That’s not necessary, Walter. They came to see me, and I’m going to afford them the opportunity.”

  “We have everything under control, please, just let me talk to them—”

  “You have lost your place, now join the rest and fall to my side,” Sister Bonnie said in a scolding manner.

  Walter stared at Sister Bonnie but was met back with an angered glare. He backed down and did as he was told. Sister Bonnie took the lead and stood ten feet from the Sheriff.

  “I too am saddened over the loss of life faced on both our sides.”

  Walter bit his tongue. He was troubled to feel his loyalty wavering. He had thought Sister Bonnie would strike back with a vengeance worthy of a great leader. So far, her diplomatic approach had left him uninspired and confused. He hoped and prayed that she would find her way and act when it became necessary. He listened carefully as she continued.