Other weapons and other means of destruction were used.
At least in the beginning, they were.
Later on someone got the bright idea, ‘Let’s just launch a bunch and see what happens?’
What happened was destruction and it brought no end to the war.
Basic training in the Army at one point was eleven weeks. By the time Falcon joined it was six. He was trained to fight, pure and simple. Because he was not part of the draft and scored high on the written portion of the test, he was able to choose his job. He could have been a communications specialist, but he wanted to be infantry.
He was glad he chose that or he would never have met Stacy.
His first tour was Florida. The southern portion of the peninsula had long since been submerged in water. Not deep, but enough that it was uninhabitable.
Special bombs detonated off shore created tidal waves and Tsunami like waves that were unexpected water weapons.
The enemy came aground there.
He fought ground battles in the southern state for six months until he heard a command he didn’t expect. “Retreat.”
They pulled back into Georgia.
Florida was a lost state. It was never regained at all during the war and still remained a Ran-Force territory afterwards.
Of course, it was a swamp land and the portions that weren’t encompassed in water were decimated by war.
Florida was probably the first official wasteland.
Sequentially, a lot of states were declared wastelands.
In Falcon’s lifetime he saw the United States go from 52 states to 43.
That mattered in the beginning of the war and shortly after, but now, it didn’t.
For the first time in his lifetime, a few years after the war ended, there was peace.
No one fought because there was nothing really to fight over. Falcon supposed in the future there would be. Man wouldn’t learn his lesson; he’d rebuild and eventually they’d fight again.
But for the time being, Falcon didn’t see war happening. Hell, he didn’t even see man surviving.
Man would though. He always did.
4. Delayed by Dust
Some time during the course of the night, Lilly did that twist and turn of her body inching Falcon from the bed. Her brown hair had slipped from her ponytail and tickled his nose. He slept a little longer on his cot and woke when the sun started to shine. He had things to do before the children woke.
Falcon knew it before he even looked out the window.
Everything was covered in a thick veil of red and brown dirt. He was ready to kick himself for leaving the vike out. It was his means of transportation, or at least one of them.
The Vike was actually a pretty great invention by some old timer in town. The man used to do body work on cars and trucks. When gasoline dried up, he converted cars and vans into what he called ‘Vikes.’ They were shelled out vehicles to carry people and goods with the ability to peddle with both arms and/or legs. They worked. They could also be pulled by a horse.
But that was for short trips. Horses required water and that was scarce, at least in the south.
The vike was covered in dust and he was glad he had put on the canvas roof. Falcon just wanted it near the porch so he could load up with ease.
He pulled a jar of granola from the cupboard and placed it on the table for Josh and Lilly, and then went outside.
He coughed, but how could he not? Each step tossed the dirt into the air.
“Damn it,” he cursed aloud, grabbing the broom and sweeping the walk in front of the house. He couldn’t spare the water to wash it down.
He was reminded of snow, when they used to get it. He remembered the heavy snows, and how, as a little boy, he’d sit in front of the living room window watching his father clean off the car.
Now Falcon was about to do the same thing.
It took all of ten minutes to clear it off. Then he took off the canvas and flapped it out. He left it down because he had to load the Vike.
Just as he finished, he saw him coming up the driveway.
Chad.
Chad was a man in his twenties with a wife. They were one of several families that moved on the property years ago. Falcon believed they moved on the property just when Josh was born, right after the cold spell ended.
Chad and his wife, like many others, had nothing, lost everything and were starving. Stacy fed them and welcomed them on the property.
Those who lived on Falcon’s land were grateful. They lived in trailers, shared a well, and in exchange, they worked the farm when it was running, helped can, tapped the wells when they needed it and built a fence on the property.
They were instrumental in keeping the place safe from transients.
Falcon wasn’t as kind as Stacy.
He had to stop letting people live on his property. There was barely enough for those who were there.
Chad rarely came up to the house so Falcon worried that something might be wrong.
“Morning,” Chad said. “Taking the kids out into town?”
“And some,” Falcon said. “What brings you up here?”
“Got a favor to ask.”
“Come on in,” Falcon waved his hand for Chad to follow and went into the house.
Chad followed. He was thin and not so pale since he spent a lot of time out in the sun. But he was worn like a lot of people. His hair thin and he was balding, probably from lack of nutrition.
“Lea’s sick,” Chad said, scratching his head. “She’s pregnant with them twins and they’re taking the toll on her. Ration and Barter day ain’t until Tuesday and that’s five days away.”
“Don’t you have food?” Falcon asked.
“Some. I got oats, that granola, a little water, jerky and stuff like that, but I was hoping you would trade one of the soup jars. She needs meat and vegetables.”
Falcon breathed out. “You know that stuff is saved for the winter for my kids.”
“I know. I know.” Chad nodded. “But I need to get that stuff in my wife and to my kids in her belly.”
“I understand.”
“I got you this for the trade.” He set a jar on the table.
“Milk?” Falcon asked.
“Yep. Went to Garrett’s farm; he has milk, lots of it. He barters it out in jars. Cows are doing well. Don’t know how.”
“He barters for feed,” Falcon said lifting the jar. “But he doesn’t barter milk until Tuesday.”
“I know. I talked to him. And look.” Chad pointed. “It’s separated and got that cream setting on top. You know the kids like the cream. I was super careful not to mix it in the walk up here.”
“Can’t take your milk. We have powder.” Falcon turned and opened the cupboard and pulled out a jar.
The soup jars were Stacy’s idea. Sealed in that jar were dehydrated vegetables, little bits of meat, and a powder that was a soup base.
He handed the jar to Chad. “Fill it with water and let it set if you don’t want to cook. It’ll be good in two hours.”
Chad grasped the jar as if it were gold. “I can’t thank you enough. Keep the milk.”
“I can’t take the milk from your wife. Give it to her.”
“I won’t feel right if I don’t give it to you,” Chad said. “Really. And I bartered it.”
“What did you barter for the milk?” Falcon asked.
“Five cigarettes.”
“Aw, Chad, come on. Damn it.” Falcon tossed out his hand. “You know as well as I do that come Tuesday bartering folks would have given you ten times as much. Why didn’t you just come here first?”
“You don’t need the cigarettes; you make them.”
“I don’t mean about that. Why didn’t you just come here to get the soup first? Jesus.” Falcon pulled out a chair and sat down. “Come to me first, please.”
“I will. And thank you.”
Falcon nodded.
Chad started to leave but stopped. He looked left and right
, Falcon knew he spotted the boxes and bags. “Where you headed? You going to Corbin to barter?” Chad asked.
“No. Those are traveling supplies for me and the kids.”
Slowly, Chad turned to face Falcon. “Where are you taking them?”
“North.”
“So you’re not going as far north as Corbin?” Chad asked. “Cause it looks like you’ll be gone for a while with all this.”
“Week or so.”
Chad’s expression dropped. “Where are you going, Falcon?”
“I’m heading to the PML.”
It took Chad a moment. He tilted his head with a questioning look and then it dawned on him. ”The Presidential Memorial Library?”
Falcon nodded.
“That’s about as far north as you can go.”
“I know.”
“And it ain’t there. I mean it probably is, but it ain’t open anymore. It can’t be. You yourself told the story of how they opened it when they thought we were gonna win the war.”
“I know.”
“What is so important there?”
“You know what, my treasure.”
“It may be gone.”
“It may be, but I have to check. It’s mine. And I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Been telling the kids about it. I gave it to the PML to keep that piece of history. I didn't know it wouldn’t be carried on. Now, I want my kid to carry it on.”
“OK, that’s fine. Why don’t you leave the kids with me and Lea?”
Falcon shook his head.
“Falcon,” Chad spoke passionately. “You can’t trek three hundred plus miles with them babies. Not north. Not up there. It’s dangerous.”
“How do you know?” Falcon asked. “I mean, they lifted the hazards two years ago. At least that’s what Bill Gleece said. So how do you know? When’s the last time you were out there.”
“When’s the last time you were?” Chad asked. “When? When’s the last time you left Kentucky? Left the county? Hell this town? When? I’ll tell you when, years, Fal. Years. Not since Lilly came. You haven’t ventured farther north than Corbin to trade. And your kids? They don’t know this world, just your tales. They’ve never been farther than town. And they don’t go there often.”
“And that’s why I am taking them. For me and for them,” Falcon said. “Aren’t you curious about what has become of the world?”
“No.” Chad answered quickly. “No, I’m not. I know here in Kentucky, at least in these parts, we work together. We eat a little, wash. I don’t want to know what became of the world. I can only imagine.”
“But what if it’s better?” Falcon said. “What if there’s a better place out there and we are just so locked up down here that we don’t know. All we know is what we hear, and you and I have heard there are better places.”
“And worse.”
“Yes, yes, we heard that.” Falcon nodded. “But we do know that out there are pockets of green. The preservation center is somewhere. We know that for a fact. Bathing stations?” Falcon tilted his head. “If there are two outside former Lexington, then there has to be others.”
“I truly understand why you want to go,” Chad said. “I do. I also understand the need to know what’s out there. Hell, go and tell us all. But please, do not take them kids. They don’t need to see it.”
“I kinda think they do.”
“Why is that?” Chad asked.
“Because they are the future. And if they can see what we did to the world, then maybe … just maybe,” Falcon said. “They’ll learn what they should not do.”
5. Facts
Falcon really did hear what Chad had to say, despite his hard core stance on taking the children with him. It was true that he himself had not left the county in years. His children never ventured farther than town.
What did they know of the world as it was?
They knew of the farm—a farm that in their lifetime was fertile and over the last year started turning brown and dying.
They remembered trees. Bill Gleece has one in a make shift greenhouse so he can preserve it for the children of the future.
Roads were still functioning, somewhat, and not entirely overgrown because everyone in town used them. The driveway to the farm house was in repair.
Despite the drought, they didn’t know much devastation.
And the world beyond their home had been devastated.
Lexington was one of the cities hit by a small payload nuclear weapon. The city had long since been abandoned.
But what remained? Falcon didn’t know.
He asked Chad if he wouldn’t mind staying with the kids while they had their breakfast. Chad had no problem doing that because Falcon told him where he was going.
To see Bill Gleece.
If there was one, Bill would be the Mayor of Landon, Kentucky.
He ran the barter days and worked with the western government when they brought in rations.
Bill was pushing sixty and said he wasn’t going to go into preservation. That surprised Falcon; everyone looked forward to that.
In any event, if anyone knew what the world was like, it was Bill Gleece. He had men he sent out scouting for things. The brought back reports along with the items.
When Falcon arrived at Bill’s house, he offered him a cigarette for his time. Bill initially declined, but then took it, telling Falcon he was the rich in the community, owning all that tobacco.
And then Bill invited Falcon into his kitchen and spread a map open on the table.
There were handmade markings on the map and Falcon was glad to see them.
“What’s out there, Bill?” Falcon asked. “I need to know.”
“All right you know this here,” Bill indicted to the western states. “They’re off limits. The government has yet to open the door to transients yet. Doubt highly they ever will. I’m mean, word has it they have a lot of pockets of green. You’re going north?”
“How bad is it?”
“Bad. My men report a few pockets of green. Not much. Not big. After Former Lexington, don’t expect another bathing station at least until Indiana. And there are no transient camps. Most are east in Virginia, West Virginia. Now, if you want green, I hear tell that’s the place to go.”
“West Virginia?”
“Yep. Limited hits, limited damage, problem is they got that locked down tight in that state. My men couldn’t get in. I lost one as they tried to sneak in through the one patch of green.”
“How hard is traveling gonna be?”
“Tough on the horse, you’ll need to stop and give your legs a rest with the vike. Vegetation would usually grow wild. All this …” Bill smoothed his hand over the map. “If this world was normal, would be overgrown with trees and grass. But it ain’t. Nothing’s growing. So the roads are cracked, some weeds, mostly dry. Drought extends from mid Indiana, and worsens the further south you go.”
“What about the PML? Your men ever been there?”
Bill shook his head. “Not there. City’s been abandoned since it lost power and most folks up north got the plague. Remember, up north they were hit pretty hard with the flu.”
Falcon nodded. “Any dangerous areas?”
“They’re scattered. Now, my man went three months ago and didn’t run into anything he couldn’t handle, but said there are a lot of Forgottens once you get by Lexington. But here’s where you pick the less of the evils. In either event to get near Fort Wayne, you either got to go through Cincinnati and Dayton or Louisville and Indianapolis. Cinci was nuked; Dayton was a hazard. Louisville nuked, Indianapolis bio bombed. Neither is gonna be pretty.”
“But they should be deserted?”
Bill shrugged. “Hard to say. Gonna have people everywhere—living on the roads, off the roads, the Forgottens.”
Falcon shuddered at the mention of ‘The Forgottens.’ That was a name the locals, and those who went north, gave to those who had survived the nuclear attacks years ago. Off spring of the survivors, some
say, weren’t in their right minds.
When the larger nuclear exchange occurred, the country stopped, paused and thought about ending the war. But instead of helping the survivors, the war continued and those in the hot zones had to fend for themselves.
“Let me ask you one more question,” Falcon said. “Should I not take the kids?”
“I don’t think you’ll run into anything out there you can’t handle. Make sure you’re armed and have bartering tools.”
“No, I’m talking about what they’ll see. Destroyed cities, remnants of the past …”
“That’s the number one reason to take them,” Bill said. “We shelter all our children here. They know the good of the past, but not the bad. They know something happened to the world, but haven’t a clue what. It’s like a book. It’s a world, but it really doesn’t exist. I don’t have any young ones, but if I did, I certainly wouldn’t be building a By the Waters of Babylon World for them.”
Falcon had to laugh. “A what?”
“By the Waters of Babylon was a short story. My mother loved it. She made me read it. It’s about these kids that venture into what are called forbidden zones and discover there was a whole civilization before them. What we’re doing with our children is similar. We tell them only good, and soon, we won’t tell them anything at all. What they don’t know won’t hurt them. In a few years we may protect them more by not allowing them to venture out. Maybe even tell them those areas are poison to keep them safe.”
“I wanted to take them to see, that was my reasoning. So they can know.”
“And that, my friend, is the best reason. It ain’t gonna scar them because they never saw it the way it was. Understand? They see a burnt city, crumbling. It’s nothing to them because they didn’t see that city in its glory. Sort of like… ok,” Bill held up his hand. “You probably won’t understand this, but the ruins of the coliseum in Rome. Folks looked at them in awe of what once was. But if a Roman soldier time traveled and saw the ruins, he would be devastated, because he saw the coliseum when it was in its glory. Make sense?”
“Yes. Yes. It does. Thank you.” Falcon offered a firm handshake.
America's Demise 01 - Wasteland Page 2
