by Nathan Jones
Almost everyone was against the idea, but they were also for it. There was just too much to be gained, and lost, from the risk. Finally, as Lucas began getting antsy about getting back on the road, they agreed to drive in that direction and make a final decision once they got closer to the town.
His dad took the wheel, and Trev settled back in the passenger seat to get what sleep he could on a padded leather bench that didn't recline and only had one armrest.
He couldn't wait for the trip to be over.
* * * * *
April 26th, the day the world ended.
On the radio they'd already settled on calling yesterday's nuclear war the Retaliation. Lewis wasn't sure the name worked for him. It seemed too simple, too . . . plain, to properly describe the horror that had taken place the day before. The unimaginable loss of life and certainty of future suffering caused by a few hundred of the most fearsome weapons humanity had ever produced.
But he supposed it was human nature to reduce the scope of the unimaginable down to a simple term, something people could bear to say and think about.
It had been nearly a full day since the nukes fell. He'd spent most of the morning trying to put the event from his mind by working hard on the coop, rabbit hutch, his traps around the gardens, and other projects. But his curiosity had finally gotten the better of him when Chauncey radioed in about good, solid information about the previous day's events coming over his shortwave.
Lewis had hurried to the storehouse, joining a few dozen people clustered around the retired teacher, who sat at his usual place behind the counter tweaking the feed on his radio. No one seemed to notice his arrival as he made his way over to stand next to Matt and Rick near the counter, all too intent on the message coming from the old shortwave.
From what he was able to gather through context, it seemed to be a rebroadcast from Hill Air Force Base up in northern Utah, where the remnants of the military in the area had retreated after the Antelope Island camp riots the previous fall. They'd hunkered down there for the winter, struggling to keep themselves and a handful of refugees alive with limited success, and then in the spring had tentatively set out to restore order in the immediate area.
The base was glowing dust now, after being the target of a nuclear strike, but before then they claimed to have been in direct contact with the President's bunker in the hours before the missiles flew.
It turned out that the President and his cabinet, who'd seemed to disappear in the first week after the Gulf refineries attack as riots spread across the nation, had been around all along. They'd retreated to a secret, safe location, and from there spent the next several months coordinating with the remnants of the US military, FETF administrators, and the civic leaders of any remaining pockets of civilization big enough to notice via satellite surveillance, for as long as possible as their resources ran out and riots tore apart their efforts.
After that the President and his remaining staff had turned their focus away from domestic crises, to address the increasing threat of the Gold Bloc and the deal they were strong-arming Canada into. As his position steadily weakened he did his best to find diplomatic solutions that would prevent the failing US from being invaded, and give them some hope of being able to rebuild in the near future.
It had been his decision to keep the troops in Canada guarding the crude oil being produced there, held ready in the event of the US finally restoring refining capability. He was also the one who'd overseen the construction of those refineries until those efforts, too, fell apart. Then at that point he'd scrambled to prevent the incomplete structures from being looted or vandalized, while trying to negotiate help for the construction projects from other countries with ever more generous promises of shares of the refined gasoline and diesel.
Most importantly, he was the one who'd kept up peace and trade negotiations with the rest of the world, searching for aid and trying to keep the vultures from circling. The threats to the Gold Bloc, with all out nuclear war as the only card the nation had left to play, had all come from him.
If the rebroadcast from Hill Air Force Base could be believed, yesterday's catastrophe had all started when the President issued yet another ultimatum. This one held the same message as the others, ie “do what we say or we'll nuke you”, but the tone had been far more dire.
The US's final threat to the Gold Bloc had given them one day to pull their forces out of the US entirely, or at least make a convincing enough show of it that the US could trust they'd be gone before too much longer. The President had made it clear that even though the Gold Bloc had called his bluff the previous instances, with the country being invaded and his citizens in the northern states suffering mass incarceration he could no longer afford to bluff and this time he would carry out his threats.
As part of his ultimatum the remaining US satellites would be watching the withdrawal of invasion forces carefully, and lack of compliance or any sign of foul play would see every single warhead the US possessed launched in a full spectrum strike at Gold Bloc countries to wipe them completely off the face of the earth.
The Gold Bloc response had been to claim that their forces were engaged in peacekeeping and humanitarian missions, and they flat out didn't believe that the US would trigger global thermonuclear war as a reaction to their presence. They considered the failing country's position to be far too weak.
Their leaders were so dismissive of this newest ultimatum, in fact, that they didn't even bother to broadcast it to the world, and prevented other sources from reporting on it as well to avoid drawing attention to the Gold Bloc forces invading the US and forming massive prison camps. For their part the US government in exile did their best to spread news of the ultimatum, but they didn't have the resources with the Gold Bloc hampering their efforts.
What had followed was a 24 hour period of heated debates as the President held firm on his stance, making it clear that this time he would be ignored at peril to the world. The US literally had nothing left to lose, with what little they had being snatched up by an invading force estimated to number in the millions, or even tens of millions if Gold Bloc settlers were included in the count.
The Gold Bloc leaders, meanwhile, kept confident in their assertion that his desperation showed he was only moments from folding, and that after he failed to live up to his threats following the deadline then real negotiations could begin. For the unequivocal surrender of the United States and the President's aid in calming the populace in lieu of a total takeover by Gold Bloc forces.
Only it hadn't been a bluff. When the deadline arrived the Gold Bloc leadership watched in horrified surprise along with the rest of the world as hundreds of US nukes flew. They hadn't given even the slightest hint of pulling their forces out, and if they'd prepared for an actual nuclear strike beyond launching their own nukes at any worthwhile US targets their preparations hadn't been enough.
The rest was, tragically, history.
The rebroadcast ended, and a subdued voice came on to add the few details that he'd managed to gather since Hill Air Force Base went silent. By all accounts the President's bunker and several other remaining military targets had been obliterated, along with every single nuclear silo, just in case the US had held any of their nukes back. Any remaining population centers of over ten thousand people, mostly along the coasts or in the South, had similarly been targeted. The estimated loss of life was in the tens of millions, and roughly ten percent of the nation was now uninhabitable due to radiation from fallout.
The broadcaster continued on to list losses on the Gold Bloc side, and collateral damage to neutral targets, and here the tally was far more horrific. Unimaginably so. The list of destroyed capitol cities alone seemed to last forever.
To his credit, whoever it was on the other end of the radio hadn't gone the lazy route of just looking at a map and reading off locations; he actually seemed to be giving information he'd gathered over a day of painstaking effort, after getting in contact with anyone he could who knew anyth
ing at all. A lot of it had been passed on from other sources, but his report was still an impressive example of careful fact finding.
Such as it was. It was too soon afterwards, and things were far too chaotic, for anyone to have a complete picture on exactly how great the devastation had been. Also there probably wasn't anyone left on the planet who had the sort of birds-eye view through satellites and other communications equipment to give a detailed report.
At best the people he'd been able to contact knew the broad strokes of the situation, and more specifically what had happened closer to home that they could see with their own eyes or report through a trusted source.
One piece of solid information from numerous sources, though, was of a confirmed nuclear strike on the Gold Bloc military camp south of Sault Ste. Marie. That was hundreds of miles away from Greenbush and where Lewis expected Trev and his family to be, but even so it was far too close for comfort. With worry for his loved ones filling his thoughts it was hard to focus on the rest of the report after that.
Lewis had never really stopped to consider how terrifying nukes were. Sure, intellectually he knew the devastation they could cause, and he'd seen the videos of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in his high school history class. He'd watched the horror of the Middle East Crisis unfold in every detail and grieved along with the rest of the world.
But the terror of it was new, fanned to life with the realization that there were, in fact, situations in which humanity was insane enough to unleash that kind of devastation on a global scale. He could no longer sleep easy in the knowledge that the people with their finger on the button would go to any lengths, seek any compromise, to avoid that fate.
Because they hadn't.
And what did that mean? An explosive big enough to destroy an entire city, which could kill him before he even realized it had gone off. And in a horrific way that wasn't even the most frightening aspect of the nuclear blast, because the explosion would spray radiation into the surrounding area for miles.
Sometimes that fallout could be seen, but the smaller particles were often hard to detect with the naked eye, bringing lingering sickness that could lead to a slow agonizing death or an even more agonizing recovery that could take years, if it ever fully happened at all.
The broadcaster on the radio returned to the more local aftermath of the Retaliation after a while, specifically how the Gold Bloc invading forces had responded to it all. Whatever Lewis might think of the name, here at least it was fitting, and that was in the response it had provoked. In the last day the surviving blockheads who'd escaped the targeted strikes on their camps had regrouped, and in many cases began pursuing retribution on the prisoners they'd captured.
In the chaos many of the prison camps had erupted into mass riots and a large number of people had escaped. Those prisoners who hadn't managed to get free had either been left behind to succumb to the fallout, gunned down if they tried to flee to safer territory still in Gold Bloc hands, or simply killed outright in mass executions.
Not satisfied with that horrific bloodshed, the Gold Bloc soldiers had begun chasing down the fleeing prisoners and shooting them on sight. They'd also stopped their efforts of searching for any US citizens still remaining in the areas they moved into, to capture and take to the internment camps, and begun murdering them in cold blood instead. The death toll from these atrocities was already estimated in the hundreds of thousands.
As the horrific details kept coming Lewis looked away, sickened. A lot of those prisoners were people captured in Michigan, and Trev and his family could've gotten caught up in that. The thought was almost too horrible to contemplate, but at the same time he firmly told himself he had to be prepared for the possibility he might never see his cousins or aunt and uncle again.
He wasn't sure how long the broadcast lasted, but at some point he realized with a start that he was hearing things he'd already heard before. His suspicions were confirmed as the crowd around him, which had been still and silent as they listened to the news, began to shift around and murmur to each other, verifying that the message had looped.
Matt turned to look at him, eyebrows raised in question, and Lewis shrugged and nodded. He'd come late to this, but he was pretty sure he'd heard all this before. Before too long just about everyone agreed they'd heard everything they were going to.
Chauncey leaned forward and turned off the radio, hand shaking slightly. Even that effort seemed to tire him, and he seemed relieved to sink back into his chair, scratching at the bandage around the stump of his leg.
“It's awful, but I'm glad that at least we're far away from all of that,” Matt said after a short silence.
Lewis shook his head. In some ways they were far away, but in others they were pretty close to smack dab in the middle. And with Gold Bloc forces to the east and west of them the trouble would probably be heading their way before too long, until they really were smack dab in the middle.
The mood was already bleak enough, and most of the people here had likely already come to the same realization, so he kept his pessimistic thoughts to himself.
Unfortunately Chauncey decided to speak up in his place. “Not so far,” he muttered, gritting his teeth as his scratching fingers moved onto the stump itself. “Closer than any of us would like, and headed our way.”
The room sank into an even grimmer silence, and Matt sighed. “I'd sort of hoped the Retaliation would stop their invasion.”
Chauncey shook his head. “If anything it forced them into a position where they have no choice but to keep going.” He abruptly yanked his hand away from his leg, clenching it into a fist on the armrest of his chair. “Which means at some point we might have to deal with them right here. They're far away at the moment, but that could change fast with the vehicles they have.”
Lewis nodded, although he was too lost in thought to speak up. After a short silence Matt turned and stared out the window, as if imagining a convoy of enemy troops driving right down Main Street. “So what do we do about it?”
“Keep our ear to the ground, I suppose,” the retired teacher answered. “Be alert for trouble heading our way, and when it comes have the best plans we can think of for how to deal with it.”
“Right,” Lewis agreed, straightening. “And one of those plans should be for evacuating everyone up Aspen Hill Canyon if need be. We should get everyone together and talk it through.”
Matt turned to him. “You mean a town meeting?”
“Eventually. Although first things first we should talk it through with the Mayor and the other town leaders.” Lewis glanced at Chauncey. “Should we gather them all up here?”
Their friend grimaced and glanced down at the stump of his leg. “Sure, I'll be around.” He tried to make the words humorous, but more than a little bitterness crept in.
Chauncey had made it clear on previous visits that his bitterness was for his situation, not Lewis for suggesting they hit the raider camps or Matt for leading the disastrous attack. Lewis didn't know about his friend, but that didn't help much with the guilt. He knew rationally that the retired teacher had made his own decision and was facing the consequences of it as well as he could, but still . . .
It had been Lewis's idea. He would always shoulder a bit of the burden for what had happened because of it.
In the face of Chauncey's bad mood the crowd sort of naturally broke up after that. Lewis said his goodbyes along with Matt, then followed his friend out the door in the direction of town hall. About halfway there Matt abruptly straightened, a grin breaking out across his weary features, and bolted up the street to where Sam had just come outside through the auditorium door, leaving the combined clinic and storeroom that had taken over the large space.
Matt filled his wife in on what they'd heard over the radio, at least until Sam begged him to stop, clearly distressed by the grim news. So as they sought out the Mayor they talked about the work they'd done that morning instead, filling the conversation with more pleasant, hopeful things.
At least until they had to broach Lewis's idea to prepare the town for evacuation in case it was ever necessary. Catherine had been listening to the news on her own radio, since Chauncey had retransmitted it on the town frequency. She clearly wasn't pleased by the idea of another evacuation, remembering the chaos of the one they'd carried out when the raiders first showed up, but she reluctantly agreed that planning the next one in advance would make it go much smoother.
So they began preparing a checklist of things the townspeople would want to do to get ready, as well as dates and times for a few drills so everyone could practice. It was a shame to have to take people from their other necessary tasks for this, and Lewis expected some grumbling. But if a Gold Bloc push into the area was a “when” rather than an “if” the time wouldn't be wasted, and could save lives and leave everyone in a much better position if they did have to abandon their homes and flee up Aspen Hill Canyon into the mountains.
During the planning Jane arrived, finished with her shift at the gardens. She'd spent part of the time caring for their remaining crops as best she could, and part of it on sentry duty in case of thieves or vandals or, more likely since the raiders were defeated, four-legged varmints that were too big for the traps or managed to avoid them.
She came over to stand beside him, content to listen in on the discussion. Although she did have a few tips to give about how to pack and what to bring from her days as a refugee, although she hated being called that and instead described it as “Before my group found a home here.”
After the meeting Matt and Sam made their way over to the clinic to visit Terry and April, while Lewis and Jane headed back to the shelter to sleep. They may have gone to bed early yesterday by some standards, but with their schedule of sleeping during the day to patrol at night the rest hadn't been great, even if they'd skipped their patrol to get it. Still, they agreed they should try to sleep now so this night's patrol wouldn't be quite as painful.
