by Mike Kraus
A dirty bomb, designed to spread as much radiation as possible across as wide of an area as possible, was sitting somewhere in the Chicago sanctuary city. That much had been confirmed by drone and satellite footage showing the crate sitting in the back of a pickup truck that had arrived days ago. The exact location of the device inside the crate was unknown, though, as it vanished from the vehicle that was abandoned outside the city. Whoever was in charge of issuing orders for the search did not believe that the device was taken away, though, as the instructions were crystal clear: find the device before it detonates.
Anderson, like many others in the search parties, had initially responded to the revelation of the device with determination and dedication to finding it. There were more than enough troops in the city that they could easily canvass the area with portable radiation detectors disguised inside backpacks. What had been initially estimated as a quick search ended up taking far longer than anyone anticipated and morale was beginning to drop. Until Anderson’s group stumbled upon the first credible radiation signature, that is.
A breathless soldier runs up to Anderson, his cheeks splotched red and sweat running down his face. “Two hundred meters ahead, Corporal. We found something.”
Corporal Anderson follows the soldier down the street, into a parking garage and down the ramp into the first underground level where several other soldiers are standing around a closed metal door. Anderson motions at the door with the butt of his rifle. “It’s behind here?”
“Yeah, that’s the place. It’s closed up tight, though. No way are we getting in with anything less than a blowtorch or a bulldozer.”
“Somebody ask for a blowtorch?” A soldier from a nearby squad appears at the top of the ramp and lifts a large blue case in the air. Twenty minutes later the locks are broken, either from the torch or from the excessive amount of foul language hurled in their direction by the soldier wielding the torch. Once the door rolls open the soldiers grow serious as they double check their weapons and descend into the bottom floors of the structure.
Radiation readings spike as they pass through the door at the bottom of the ramp and Corporal Anderson affixes a mask over his face and motions at the other soldiers to do the same. They move slowly through the dark parking garage, checking behind and between the few scattered vehicles that are still present. With the first underground level clear they continue moving down even farther, descending another level before arriving at a second locked door. This door stands between them and the bottom of the parking garage.
Corporal Anderson whispers to the soldier carrying the blowtorch, asking him to get to work on the locks and bolts on the door. The soldier nods and begins setting up the torch, but as he goes to light it he stops and leans close to the metal.
“Does anyone else hear beeping?” The question comes an instant before the explosion. Plastic explosives affixed to the door at the ramp in several locations explode outward, killing several soldiers and sending several others flying back from the force. A hail of bullets rain forth from beyond the shattered door, piercing through the soft tissues and brittle bones of the surviving soldiers. The attack is strong and pushes back against the soldiers, but it cannot last forever.
More reinforcements converge on the parking garage to help assist with the securement and disarmament of the device. They instead find themselves drawn into battle with a foe that rapidly becomes outnumbered. The tactical advantage offered by the chokepoint of the ramp and final floor of the parking garage becomes moot in the face of grenades, tear gas and a continuous stream of suppressing fire.
The number of assailants in the lowest floor of the parking garage diminishes until there are no more attacks coming from the room beyond the shattered door. The soldiers advance slowly, using night vision goggles to cut through the smoke and darkness until they spy a lone figure half-hidden behind a car. The figure is one of the attackers, dressed in plain clothes that are soaked with blood.
One of the soldiers reaches out to touch the attacker, to locate his wounds and try to slow the flow of blood, but Corporal Anderson stops him. “No. Back up, now!” The command is stern and the soldier obeys, taking a few steps back from the attacker, who slowly lifts his head and forces out a slight smile. He mumbles something in a foreign language before his head sags and hits the ground with a dull thump. A radio falls out of his hand, tumbling across the ground before stopping at Anderson’s feet.
“Hostiles are down,” he shouts, “Move in and secure the crate right now!”
As the soldiers hurry to secure the crate, Anderson takes a step back and breathes a sigh of relief. He picks up the radio and slips it into his pack, hoping that there’s some way it can be used to help identify the attackers and their accomplices across the nation. As the soldiers crack open the crate, they turn to him, their eyes wide with alarm.
“It’s empty, Corporal.”
“What?” Confusion clouds Anderson’s face as he steps forward to peer inside the crate. “Where the hell is the device?” As he speaks, he hears a sharp squeal from the radio in his pack. He doesn’t have time to even reach for the radio before the world explodes around him.
At the very top of the parking garage where the elevator has been marked as “Closed for Maintenance” for an unusually long period of time sits a device that used to be located inside the red and blue crate resting in the bottom of the garage. While the device itself emits a low level of radiation, it used to emit far more due to a problem that was recently fixed. As a result, the empty crate is saturated with radiation and is the primary source detected by the military’s devices.
Unfortunately, though, because the crate is empty, there is nothing that can be done to stop the detonation of the device above.
Everyone within a few blocks of the parking garage is killed nearly instantly, though each person’s exact cause of death depends on where they were and what they were doing. Some die from the heat while others die from the shockwave. People further out are severely injured by the blast but they survive for a short time only to succumb to their wounds later on. They are trivial in the grand scheme of things, though. The explosion of the dirty bomb sends a massive amount of radioactive material into the air, spreading it far and wide across the city.
Those closest to the explosion who are not killed by it die in a matter of days. Others take a few days longer while more still take a week or two. Those who are not injured by the explosion feel nothing at first, but that does not matter. They are the walking dead. And their killer? He is still free.
Chapter 9
Seeing a large number of armored and heavily armed military vehicles driving down a highway can be an intimidating experience, regardless of whether it’s wartime or peacetime. Being a part of said convoy as a civilian whose prior experience with military vehicles—up until a short time ago—was watching them on the TV or from the sidelines was both exhilarating and awe-inspiring.
Frank swiveled around in his seat for the hundredth time since they had left the industrial compound, looking back on the rows of vehicles behind them. Ten other Humvees, three tracked tank hybrids and four armored personnel carriers were arranged in a staggered, two-column formation behind the lead vehicle driven by Jackson. The roar of the vehicles’ engines and the black smoke belching from their exhaust was an impressive sight and Frank couldn’t help but grin as he turned back around in his seat.
“Calm down, Frank. You’re going to overexcite yourself if you keep doing that.” Linda looked back at Frank from the front passenger seat, smiling at his enthusiasm.
“We’re about twenty minutes out,” Jackson said, glancing at the rearview mirror. “Right on time with the estimates.”
“Good,” Linda nodded, “That’s a rarity.”
“The highway’s getting a lot more open,” Frank noted, sitting up in his seat as he looked out through the windshield. “Why are they clearing the vehicles and debris off so far out from the city?”
“From what I understand they
’re trying to get the backbone of the interstate system back up and running,” Jackson replied. “They’re working with bulldozers and repair crews to spread outward from the sanctuary cities so they can start getting trucks back on the road again.”
“Trucks? Back on the road again?” Frank shook his head. “Where are they going to find the people to do that?”
“There’s a lot of people sitting around twiddling their thumbs right now. I imagine that a decent number of them are itching to do something.”
“Yeah, but so soon after what happened?”
“All we have to fear,” Linda intoned, “Is fear itself.”
“Yeah, but with Omar still running around out there…” Frank trailed off.
“We have to rebuild at some point,” Jackson said. “If we can get some basic infrastructure repairs completed then we can start getting goods on the road again. That’ll open up the possibility of getting repairs started on a much wider scale. If we do that… well. The sky’s the limit.”
“It’ll take years to rebuild,” Linda sighed. “But we have bigger problems to worry about right now.”
“Indeed.” Jackson nodded. “If we don’t stop those bombs then it doesn’t really matter.” There was silence in the Humvee for the next few minutes before Jackson hefted his radio and spoke into it. “Phoenix base, this is Lieutenant Jackson, do you copy?” Static was the only reply so Jackson spoke again. “I say again, this is Lieutenant Jackson calling anyone at Phoenix base. Do you copy?”
Linda glanced over at Jackson. “Why wouldn’t they be responding?”
“Good question.” He glanced at the convoy behind and depressed the switch on the radio again. “All units, we’re not getting a reply from Phoenix base. We’re only a few minutes out so keep your eyes open.” There was no reply to his transmission to the convoy behind, and he, Frank and Linda all looked back as they wondered what was going on.
“Should we stop and see what’s going on?” Frank asked.
“No, I think we’re about to find out,” Linda replied. She pointed out the windshield and down the road to where the first exit from the highway into Phoenix was blocked off by a small group of soldiers. The convoy slowed as it approached the blockade before finally stopping a short distance away. Jackson hopped out of the Humvee along with Linda and Frank and approached the soldier who stepped out from behind the blockade and saluted.
“Sir! Are you Lieutenant Jackson?”
“That I am,” Jackson replied, returning the salute. “What’s going on here? We radioed about our arrival a short time ago but got no response. Local channels seemed down, too.”
“That’d be because of the signal jammer, sir.”
“Signal jammer?” Linda raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, ma’am.” The soldier nodded at her. “We have signal jammers set up across the city to keep the devices from being remotely detonated. You must be Ms. Rollins, and you’re Mr. Richards, correct?”
Frank and Linda nodded before she replied. “How did you know we were coming?”
“We got word a short while ago that you’d be joining us to search for the device. I have orders to escort you in, get everyone with you detector devices and assign you to the grids where our manpower is low. We have a lot of ground to cover and not a lot of time to do it in.”
“Why don’t we have a lot of time?” Frank furrowed his brow. “If you’re blocking any sort of signal from getting in, shouldn’t that give us enough time to get this thing found?”
“We…” The soldier hesitated and glanced at Jackson before continuing. “We believe that there are enemy forces near the device. They could manually detonate it if we don’t find them quickly, before they realize something’s going on.”
Linda ground her teeth together and shook her head as she looked at Jackson. “We need to get moving, then.”
“Agreed.” He turned to address the soldier again. “Tell us where to go so we can get to work.”
***
Half an hour later, after following a small pickup truck along the western edge of the city, the convoy finally arrived at a large forward operating base that had been set up in the structure and vast parking lot of a large mall. Stores inside the mall had been hastily converted into offices, makeshift operating rooms and storage areas for supplies while the parking lots were divided up into sections for barracks, vehicle parking and maintenance areas. A small section of the parking lot appeared to have the light poles cut down and a large white circle was painted onto the pavement, enabling helicopters to land and take off close to the base.
“All right, listen up!” The officer in charge of the search operation looked out across the troops from Jackson’s unit as he pointed at a large map hanging on the side of the mall. “We’ve searched most of the eastern side of the city and haven’t located any trace of the device. At this point we’re leaning toward it being on the western side, as we think they may be trying to take advantage of winds to carry radioactive materials across the city once they detonate it. You’ll be divided into four search groups and be assigned to the northwestern and southwestern corners. Each search member will have a radiation detector, but we won’t be able to link them up to command here due to the signal jammer that’s in place.”
“Crap,” Linda whispered to Frank, “That’s going to make this more challenging.”
“Two members of each search unit will be designated messengers. We’ve outfitted a few light vehicles for the messengers to get around the city quickly, but we’re also going to work off of a flare system.” The officer gestured at a group of flare guns sitting on the table. “Green means the sector is clear, red means you think you’ve located the device and are calling in reinforcements. Don’t fire off the red unless your rad detectors are going off the charts. We’ve already had a couple of false alarms and we don’t need to be rushing around letting these assholes know we’re onto them until we’re ready to go in.
“Once the device is located, you’re to use lethal force to secure it. We believe that the terrorists have orders to manually detonate the devices if they’re located, so you’ll have one chance at it before the city is covered in radiation. Try not to screw up, okay?”
“Jeez.” Frank shook his head as he whispered to Linda. “Way to be positive, eh?”
Linda shrugged. “It’s reality and they’re not about to sugarcoat it.” She turned to look for Jackson who was moving toward the officer to speak with him and figure out how his troops were to be divvied up across the search areas. “Come on,” she said, motioning at Jackson, “Let’s keep up.”
After receiving more detailed instructions on how to use the radiation monitoring equipment, the group of soldiers led by Jackson divided into four teams and headed out to the northwestern and southwestern edges of Phoenix to start their searches. The radioisotope identifier (RIID) devices carried by each member of the search teams were small in size and fit into discrete backpacks that were strapped onto the normal packs worn by the soldiers. A special emphasis was placed on appearing like regular patrols in the city so as to not spook any of the terrorists that might be watching the search process unfold.
As Linda, Jackson and Frank headed out with a group of soldiers to a grid in the southwestern section of the city, Frank pointed at a section of the parking lot that contained a cluster of remote-controlled drones. “Why aren’t those up in the air searching, too? They have the same kind of detectors on them that we do based on the logos.”
Linda peered out the window at the drones. “They can’t take them up with the signal jammer in place. My guess is they’re doing a wide-spectrum jam that’s blocking all radio and satellite signals coming in or out. We’re effectively cut off from the outside world right now until this situation gets resolved.”
“Wow,” Frank whistled softly and looked at the cluster of small packs next to him in the back seat. “So these things will tell us where the bomb is, huh?”
“That’s the hope.”
“Oh,
they’ll tell us, all right,” Jackson said. “Whether or not we’ll stop it from going off is another matter entirely.”
Ten minutes later, after the search party arrived at their designated location, they were all on foot and moving down the streets. The group stayed spread out, moving into buildings periodically as they watched the radiation readings on the wrist displays, looking carefully for any signs that levels were increasing. Jackson had gone on ahead with a group of soldiers while Frank and Linda stayed together near the middle of the group, talking quietly as they went along.
“Why can’t they just do this search on vehicles? Get some Humvees or something rolling and search the city really fast?”
“I’m sure they did, but this device probably isn’t leaking radiation like the one back at the warehouse. With only trace amounts of radiation to pick up, doing a street-level sweep is the only way we’re going to be able to identify the exact location.”
“I don’t know how we can possibly hope to find this thing anytime soon.”
Linda smiled and patted Frank on the back. “Have a little faith. We may be cut off from the rest of the world and searching for a needle in a haystack but at least we’re not being actively shot at, right?”
Frank chuckled. “That’s true, I guess. It’s way better than it was yesterday.” His smile fell and he stepped closer to Linda and spoke softly, not wanting his words to carry to the soldiers nearby. “How are you doing, by the way? We haven’t had a chance to talk much since the ambush and everything that followed.”
“What do you mean?” Linda kept looking straight ahead, feigning ignorance.
“I mean about you and dealing with all of this urban fighting and the fighting in general. This can’t be easy, even what we’re doing right now. I have to imagine it’s bringing back a lot of memories so… I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
