Nuclear Winter (Book 1): First Winter

by Nathan Jones

  It took them almost fifteen minutes to get there. Trev felt a bit relieved at the distance, since it meant the rest of the group back at the battle front were well away from danger. But as they rounded a final corner and came into view of the scene a few hundred yards farther down the road, any relief he felt vanished into horror as he took out his binoculars for a closer look.

  He soon wished he hadn't.

  It was the refugee group, all right, and they'd been attacked. Soldiers and civilians, men and women, old and young, all gunned down without mercy as they tried to flee in all directions. Their bodies littered the road and the slopes to either side, horribly motionless and with wounds suggesting that the attackers had coldly executed anyone they found still alive. None of the bodies looked to be from the enemy, suggesting the attack had been carried out by people who knew what they were doing.

  Trev stared at the carnage, a sick feeling in his gut.

  “Bandits?” Lewis asked quietly, peering through his own binoculars. His face was pale. “A big group, to take on an armed refugee caravan.”

  “No,” Trev said immediately. “The refugee group had more than twice as many people as there are bodies here, and it doesn't look like any managed to get away. Also look at the bodies themselves.”

  His cousin saw it quickly. “All too young or too old. Same as Deb and countless others have described it.”

  Trev nodded, fear warring with sickness in his gut. “This was blockheads, and they took prisoners.”

  “Slaves,” Lewis corrected grimly. He abruptly turned, grabbing Trev's arm. “Listen. You remember Matt telling us about using back roads to get to your cache last winter?”

  “Yeah,” Trev said, relieved at the suggestion.

  Right after the Gulf burned last year and all the trouble had started, when he'd first left Orem to make his way down to Aspen Hill, his car had run out of gas along this highway, not far from here. He'd left most of his supplies in a hidden cache and abandoned the vehicle to walk the rest of the way, then later gifted the cache to Matt and his family to help them survive the winter. He remembered his friend describing how first his dad, then on a later trip him, Terry, and Sam, had used back roads to get to the cache without running into trouble.

  Which was exactly what they needed right about now. He didn't want to stay on this road a second longer than necessary, especially with a bunch of young people. “Good thinking. We're not too far from there and it shouldn't be too hard to find an alternate route home.”

  His cousin shook his head. “You, Deb, and Jane take the kids, I'll catch up to you when I can, or see you back at home.” He tightened his grip on Trev's arm, giving him a serious look. “And be careful.”

  Trev stared at him in confusion. “Why split up?”

  Lewis let him go and motioned to the carnage down the road. “Someone has to let the military know about this, tell them about our suspicions.” He turned back, sharply waving for Trev to go. “Hurry. This didn't happen too long ago and the blockheads might decide to come back.”

  There was no time to waste, but Trev still hesitated. “Are you sure? I don't like the thought of you on your own when there's a group around big enough to do something like this. Jane at least should join you.”

  “No, you'll need her in case there's some danger. Blockhead raiders might be on the back roads, too, using them to get around undetected.” His cousin grimaced. “And you can get on my case about bringing the kids on this trip when I get back. You were right, it was a bad idea.”

  After a final hesitation Trev nodded. “Be careful yourself. I'll see you when you catch up.”

  He jammed his bike into a sharp turn and pedaled back the way he'd come. Every instinct told him to go all out and get back to the others fast, but a fifteen minute ride downhill would take even longer going back, and he needed to set a pace that that would let him get there fast without exhausting himself halfway through. Not to mention they'd be doing more traveling once he got there, getting everyone far, far away from any danger the blockheads presented.

  Speaking of which, he was glad the road up Aspen Hill Canyon was out and the town was safe. But if the Gold Bloc was back and raiding in this area he'd need to keep his defenders more vigilant just in case.

  After an exhausting twenty-five minutes he made it back to the others. It looked as if Deb and Jane were keeping watch for their return while the kids, not seeing any immediate danger, had gone back to collecting brass. They'd actually managed to gather quite a large amount even in the short time they'd been here. Trev was just grateful they hadn't encountered any threat from the opposite direction while he and Lewis were gone.

  Everyone hurried to gather around him as he braked beside the two women. “What's going on?” Deb demanded.

  “Where's Lewis?” Jane added.

  “The group of refugees we passed earlier was attacked, killed or taken,” Trev said tersely. “Blockheads. As far as I can see the raiders left as quickly as they came, but we're still going to take the back roads home.”

  The gathered kids all broke into nervous and excited murmurs, expressing disbelief and asking a barrage of questions on top of each other.

  Trev ignored them and turned to Jane. “Did Matt ever tell you where exactly those roads were? We should be able to find them without too much trouble and make our way south, but anything to get us away from here faster would help.”

  The redheaded woman shook her head. “He wasn't exactly open about the cache and where he got it, especially before we joined the shelter group.”

  “Then we'll trailblaze.” Trev gestured curtly. “Come on, get your things and let's go.”

  “I need to join Lewis,” Jane insisted, curtly motioning for him to get off his bike so she could take it. “You take the trailer.”

  Trev shook his head. “He wanted you with us, just in case there's trouble.” Catching her eye, he glanced meaningfully at the kids they had a responsibility to protect.

  She wasn't happy about it, but she got it. “Let's go.”

  Nodding, Trev ushered everyone back to their bikes, piling their half full garbage bags onto the trailer. He ended up having Jane take his bike while he took Lewis's anyway, since even though the trailer wasn't too heavy he was best suited to tow it so they could make the best speed.

  He was so distracted with the preparations that it took him almost a minute to realize Deb was still standing where she'd first been, stiff with shock and dismay. He made his way over to her and saw that she was breathing hard, eyes wide and unfocused.

  “Deb?” he asked gently.

  “They were supposed to be gone for good,” she said, voice barely concealing the beginnings of panic. “They were supposed to be gone. Why aren't they gone?”

  Trev gave her a reassuring smile, aware of how the young people had fallen silent, watching them. He wanted to reassure the brown-haired woman, but he also didn't want her panic to spread. “There's no way they'll be able to do something like this twice. This was a surprise, but the military will definitely tighten their defenses to prevent it from happening again. In fact, the blockheads who staged this raid have a long way to go to get away, and Lewis is radioing the military to let them know what's going on right now. The raiding party might not even make it out at all.”

  She nodded blankly, but he could see she barely heard him. Her mind was likely flashing back to the horrors she'd experienced after being taken prisoner by Gold Bloc soldiers. That couldn't be good for her mental health, but more importantly right now he needed her with him.

  He stepped closer to her, dropping his voice. “Look at the kids,” he said firmly. Deb blinked, then glanced over at the pale, frightened teenagers, huddling together for reassurance as this adventure got a lot more scary. Trev continued. “I need your help getting them home safely.”

  The brown-haired woman's eyes gradually cleared, and she nodded resolutely. “Right.” She hurried to her bike and hopped on.

  Not long after that Trev led the way w
est up the highway. As he went he kept his eyes peeled for any sign of roads down the slope to the south, even ones that didn't connect to the highway itself. There didn't seem to be any that he could see, and it wasn't until they'd reached the burned out hulk of his car, still sitting forlornly on the side of the road even after everything that had happened, that he finally caught a glimpse of a wide ATV trail winding through the trees below.

  If that wasn't it, chances were good it led to where they needed to be. Trev hopped off his bicycle, with effort lifted it and the trailer over the guard rail beside the road, and motioned for the kids to begin handing their bikes over to him. While he did that Jane began navigating her bike down the slope towards the trail, eyes searching for any sign of a threat and ears pricked for unusual noises.

  So far so good. Trev took rearguard as they followed the redheaded woman down to flatter ground. It still wasn't ideal for biking, but with a bit of effort they managed to bump their way over to the ATV trail and started along it.

  They hid a few minutes later at the sound of truck engines, and Trev watched from cover as two trucks that looked like US military roared past heading east. He wondered if they were in response to Lewis calling in what had happened.

  Either way, he hoped his cousin was okay.

  * * * * *

  Lewis was relieved to find that with a bit of climbing he was able to reach a spot where he could contact someone. No one from the military itself, unfortunately, but the man he got in touch with was able to send along his message. Along with a bit of swearing at the grisly scene Lewis described.

  Before too long he got word back that the military was sending a few squads to check out the scene. Lewis assured them he'd stick around and do his best to fill them in on what he knew. It was a long wait, and he spent most of it on lookout for anyone approaching, glad for the excuse to avoid looking at the sad sight below.

  It took almost forty minutes before he heard the sound of two trucks roaring down the highway towards him from the west. He had to admit that even if the military had dropped the ball by letting blockhead raiders get all the way through the territory they were guarding to attack the refugees here, at least they were quick to respond once they were aware of a situation.

  He made his way down the hill to where Jane's bike waited, waving as the trucks braked across the road from him.

  From the lead truck an officer in his thirties with the decorations of a captain emerged and strode over, extending a hand. “Captain Griggs, US Army,” he growled. Even as he spoke his eyes strayed to the first of the bodies sprawled not far away, and his expression darkened.

  “Lewis Halsson,” he replied, accepting the handshake. “I live in Aspen Hill, not too far from here. I was with a group that passed these refugees almost two hours ago, and we were stopped a bit farther up the road scavenging when we heard the sounds of gunshots and screams. We came to check it out and saw this.”

  Griggs nodded, somewhat impatiently. “All right, tell me it all from the beginning.”

  Lewis started, basically repeating everything he'd reported over the radio. As he talked the captain motioned for him to follow and made his way over to the nearby body, a woman in her fifties or sixties, and began checking her wounds.

  Once Lewis finished Griggs sighed and straightened. “So you're confident it was blockheads, because they took about half these people prisoner and killed the old people and kids?”

  “That's right.”

  The captain nodded, looking more angry than grieved. “You're probably right. We got a warning from patrols along the perimeter to the northeast that some enemy vehicles might've slipped past them. But that's hundreds of miles away . . . I never figured the enemy would come this far into our territory.”

  “Maybe they're still used to thinking of it as theirs,” Lewis said.

  “Maybe.” Griggs shook his head. “Either way, this isn't an isolated occurrence. Gold Bloc forces are still attacking innocent civilians outside our area of influence, but even closer to the Rockies we've had reports of at least three groups slipping past our defenses. All with results similar to this, although these poor people might consider themselves lucky in a way . . . when they had the time, in other attacks the blockheads committed unspeakable atrocities on the victims they left behind.”

  Lewis thought of Deb and the other freed prisoners who'd come to Aspen Hill, and what they'd suffered. Those the enemy took with them were equally unfortunate. “So it's not really over, is it? The all out attack may have failed, but they're going to switch over to raiding us, killing or enslaving anyone they find and taking everything of value.”

  “It's looking that way,” the captain agreed. “Although I suppose the winter will put a stop to that before too long. Not that I'd call that an improvement.”

  They fell into a grim silence, contemplating the tragedy around them as the soldiers Griggs had brought with him began spreading out across the area of the attack, investigating what had happened and preparing the bodies for burial.

  “How is the fight out there going?” Lewis finally asked.

  Griggs snorted. “Judging by the fact that the enemy managed to raid right into the heart of our territory and get away? Not great. Although not as bad as it could be. I'm afraid we overextended.”

  Lewis waited patiently, and after a few seconds the captain elaborated.

  “The bulk of the Gold Bloc forces have either retreated up into western Canada or east to the territory they hold on the other side of the Mississippi. They're taking over the existing infrastructure there and bringing their civilians down to settle, even as they continue to enslave or exterminate the remaining citizens in the area. We sent most of our troops across the Mississippi, too, trying to hound the enemy to the point where they give up on the US entirely and join their buddies up in Canada.”

  The older man sighed. “Unfortunately they've also got squads roaming the Great Plains area, killing, robbing, and enslaving anyone they find, and looting what remains of the towns and cities in those states. The group who attacked these refugees was probably one of those squads.”

  “We're doing something about that, right?” Lewis asked, frowning. “If nothing else, taking the Great Plains would cut off the blockheads in the eastern states from resupply and reinforcements from Canada.”

  Griggs gave him a disbelieving look. “Kid, we've got less than forty thousand troops free to fight the blockheads. How exactly are we going to hold a territory as vast as the Great Plains with so few men? Even trying would be a waste of time, because the blockheads could just go around us to the north, and they're not trying to hold the Great Plains anyway.”

  Lewis nodded thoughtfully, and the captain sighed again and continued. “We do have some of our best Special Forces units out on the Plains,” he admitted. “It's much more of a guerrilla war going on there, both sides staging minor raids and taking out enemy squads wherever they find them. Our boys are doing some good against the marauding blockheads, but as you can see plenty are slipping through the cracks.”

  “I wonder if winter will kill the war for good,” Lewis mused.

  Griggs chuckled. “Look at history, kid. Winter never kills war, just encourages a break for both sides to prepare to get back to it once the snows clear.” He shrugged, as if stretching before a marathon. “It's not all hopeless, though. We're in talks with the Canadian government. They were hoping for our help driving the blockheads out of western Canada, but obviously that's impossible as things stand. As an alternative they're talking about sending troops down to help us retake the eastern states, in exchange for the US ceding them some of that territory.”

  Lewis whistled. “That's a steep price to pay for a bit of military aid.”

  “It's not exactly like we hold the area anymore,” the captain replied sourly. “And there's also the fact that the Canadians are being a bit . . . insistent. They know nuclear winter is going to be bad for them, up north where they are. They want to send a lot of their civilians
living in the cities, the people they know are going to have the hardest time surviving extreme conditions, down south where the winter won't be so harsh. In fact, some reports say they've already started sending settlers to the northernmost states.”

  The older man snorted. “They're calling it a “benevolent occupation”. Taking the territory, but also bringing aid to the remaining US citizens they find and letting them keep their land and possessions, as well as offering them full Canadian citizenship.”

  That was certainly news. This was the first Lewis was hearing about any of this. “At least they're honest about it, not calling it “relief efforts” like the Gold Bloc did.”

  Griggs nodded. “It could be way worse. If they're going to take some land we can't hold anyway, we may as well call them allies and keep things amiable. General Lassiter and General Erikson are strongly considering coordinating with the Canadians to drive out the blockheads, and possibly even loaning them some of our troops for the next few years to help hold the eastern States and look out for the interests of the occupied US citizens.”

  “Awfully generous.” Lewis glanced sidelong at the captain. He couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't a much better reason for Canada to move south that the man wasn't telling him about. Specifically, the fuel refineries the US had been trying to build in time to stave off the fuel crisis, which had ultimately wasted a lot of necessary resources without ever being completed.

  Those refineries had been planned for somewhere back east, although the government had been vague about their specific location to deter further attacks. It was possible Canada was trying to gain possession of them so they could complete construction, then begin refining the vast reserves of crude sitting around up there that their own limited refining capabilities couldn't handle.

  It wasn't all that helpful for the remnants of the US, but it wasn't terrible either. Better someone was producing fuel than nobody, and vastly better the Canadians than the blockheads. If Canada succeeded in getting refining going on a major scale that could be a critical step towards rebuilding, and as long as they were willing to trade with the US that would help get both countries back on their feet.