by Nathan Jones
One of the guards in front of the motor pool hadn't taken his eyes off the dissipating mushroom cloud in the last five minutes.
Once inside the garage Lucas casually strolled among the vehicles, scratching notes on his clipboard, until he was out of sight of the guards. Then he rushed to a medium sized truck that was ideally located for Trev to cover him and checked to make sure the key was in the ignition as protocol dictated. A moment later he gave Trev a thumbs up through the windshield, then hastily made his way over to fuel storage and began hauling five gallon cans of diesel over to the truck.
This was the most dangerous part of his task, since nothing he needed to do in the motor pool justified him taking fuel over to one of the trucks. If the soldiers saw it they'd immediately intervene, probably by shooting him with no questions asked.
There was no help for it, though. Conveniently enough even though the internment camp was a bit under 200 miles north of Greenbush, it actually didn't change the distance they had to go to reach Aspen Hill by much. That was because from here they could follow the Upper Peninsula west into Wisconsin and make their way to Utah that way, instead of backtracking south through Michigan.
That also had the benefit of keeping them away from most of the chaos of people fleeing the fallout, since almost everyone was stampeding south towards Mackinac Bridge. Even the Gold Bloc forces planned to evacuate into Michigan, so the bridge would probably be a massive bottleneck and likely heavily guarded as well.
But 1,800 miles was still 1,800 miles, and any truck they got from the motor pool was bound to be a diesel guzzler. The most pessimistic fuel consumption would be ten miles to the gallon, possibly even less, which meant they needed at least 180 gallons to get there, and preferably 200 just to be safe. The truck his uncle had selected looked as if it had double 40-gallon gas tanks, which should've been kept topped off at all times according to protocol. That meant they needed at least another twenty gas cans to make the trip.
That was a lot of extra weight in fuel, another 800 pounds at the minimum, and his uncle would have to carry it all over ten or more trips without being seen. It would also take up a lot of space in the back of the truck, but that was okay since it wasn't like they had a lot of stuff to take anyway.
Trev watched anxiously as Lucas worked, frequently checking the guards to make sure they weren't getting suspicious wondering where his uncle had gone. Luckily they still seemed distracted by everything that was going on.
On the ninth trip Lucas looked through the chain link at Trev and nodded. Trev nodded back, then turned to where his dad and Mary were loitering by one of the tents, out of sight of the main bulk of the soldiers rushing about. Both were looking his way, and Trev cautiously waved in a way that wouldn't draw attention from anyone else.
Mary waved back, and then the two separated to light their respective fires. Trev just hoped they were quick and stealthy getting out once they'd done it.
Lucas managed to finish the tenth trip by the time smoke from the tents near the motor pool became visible, quickly followed by flickering flames, and from the looks of it he'd decided to risk trip eleven.
The fires had been set at a location where the motor pool guards would be the closest soldiers to them, which would hopefully inspire them to be the ones to respond to the emergency rather than some random passersby. The motor pool guards quickly spotted the smoke and shouted in alarm, then after some heated debate two went running off to check it out, one leaving his gun behind in his haste. The attention of the remaining two was totally focused on the fires even though they stayed at their posts.
At least until Lucas finished his eleventh trip, got behind the wheel of the truck, and started it up.
His uncle wasted no time maneuvering the truck towards the entrance to the motor pool, and both soldiers wheeled at the noise. One shouted and lifted his AK-47 to point at the approaching vehicle while the other ran towards the security booth and the panic button that would lower the bar and raise the spikes.
Much as Trev hated to think of his uncle being shot at, if the entrance got closed their plan would be finished. So he shot the soldier going for the booth first, in the head since the man wasn't wearing a helmet. His first shot missed, but it spooked the soldier and he skidded to a halt to see who was shooting at him. That gave Trev a stationary target and his second shot connected solidly. The soldier went down, still over six feet from the booth.
There was a burst of automatic weapon fire from the remaining guard shooting at the approaching truck, but his uncle managed to swerve behind another truck to avoid it. Trev hurriedly shifted his aim to that guard and fired two rounds at his belt line, below the body armor. The man dropped, weapon flying out of his hands.
Lucas had to do a bit of maneuvering to get back on course for the entrance after evading the gunfire, so after Trev made sure the other two guards were still occupied with the tent fires he took the opportunity to sling his captured rifle over his shoulder and dash across the street to the entrance.
There he quickly collected the weapons from the two downed guards, as well as the AK-47 left behind by one of the two guards dealing with the fire. He also patted the soldiers down for spare magazines.
The first man he searched was the second guard, who was still conscious and cursing at him bitterly in Russian. Trev ignored him, discovering magazines and other goodies in the pockets of the man's flak jacket. He decided to take the entire jacket, and stripped the similarly outfitted one off the dead guard as well.
That was all the time he had before the stolen truck rumbled through the entrance and screeched to a halt in front of him. Trev dashed over and yanked open the passenger door, shoving the captured weapons and body armor across the seat and climbing in after them. He was barely inside before the truck lurched into motion again, and had to reach for the door handle twice before he managed to catch hold of it and yank it shut.
His uncle gave him a somewhat shellshocked grin as he manhandled the stick shift to accelerate them as quickly as possible towards the edge of town. Sweat was streaming down his face from the exertion of hauling the diesel. “You've become a pretty good shot,” he said. “Good work.”
“Thanks, you did a good job too.” Trev stowed the newly captured gear behind the seat to make room, holding onto his own weapon. “I can't believe how well you kept your calm bluffing your way past those guards.”
“Wouldn't be the first time I've had to do that recently.” His uncle shifted to a higher gear and the truck lurched forward a bit faster. “Let's get out of here before we start glowing.”
Trev nodded and peered ahead anxiously to where the rest of their family were supposed to meet them. The plan was for his dad and Mary to circle around to the rendezvous point after setting the fires, and Trev's biggest worry was that they'd run into some trouble. There were any number of things that could've gone wrong, and since his and his uncle's side of things had gone off without a hitch it was hard not to feel like bad luck would hit them somewhere.
To his immense relief they were with his mom, aunt, and siblings at the place they were supposed to meet. Trev glanced at the passenger side mirror to see if anyone was pursuing them, but the road behind seemed empty.
As Lucas screeched to a halt beside them Trev leapt out and helped his mom and aunt get into the cab, then ushered everyone else to the back and helped them up to sit among the loose diesel cans. They'd have to rearrange them when they got the chance, but that could wait until they were far, far away from the camp full of people who wanted to kill them. Not to mention the aftermath of a nuclear blast that very likely would if they dilly dallied.
Once everyone was in he pounded the back of the cab to let his uncle know and they lurched back into motion.
Five minutes later they'd left the camp and the interstate behind them and were rumbling down a smaller road heading west towards Wisconsin.
Epilogue
Shellshocked
Global thermonuclear war.
L
ewis was a couple decades late to experience the leaden weight of fear that had gripped the world during the Cold War at the prospect. That was something his parents and grandparents had lived with. All those nukes held by just about every major country in the world hadn't disappeared when the Cold War ended, of course, but somehow the panic and paranoia over them had faded with his generation.
He'd never done the hiding under the desk drills in school like he'd seen in old movies. Nobody he knew was building fallout shelters so they could flee underground at the first sight of mushroom clouds on the horizon (although technically with its three feet of dirt and being airtight aside from the vents and stovepipe, which he could install filters for, the shelter was fairly safe where fallout was concerned). Before the Middle East Crisis people hadn't ever talked about nuclear war like it was an inevitability, or even a possibility for that matter.
Sure, Lewis had learned what he needed to do to prepare in the case of nuclear war, same as any other potential threat he might have to face, and he'd been shaken along with the rest of the world by the nuclear exchange in the Middle East a year and a half ago. But even then he'd viewed that as a more localized event, where global nuclear war was still unlikely.
When he'd run down the threats he might need to prepare for it had ranked near the bottom in likelihood, although certainly near the top in terms of devastation. He'd considered it a lesser possibility than something like economic collapse, and even EMP, most easily achieved by detonating a specialized nuke in the upper atmosphere to knock out electronics and the electrical grid in a large area below, had seemed more likely.
And yet it had happened. It had actually happened. The event that had kept his grandparents up at night and that even his parents had talked about as the catastrophe mostly likely to end the world and destroy humanity.
In a way Lewis had viewed the threats the government remnants had made in response to Gold Bloc aggressions as grandstanding, just like everyone else had. Even knowing how dire an invasion on US soil would be, he hadn't really thought the people with their finger on the button would actually make good on those threats.
But they had, and now the world would never be the same.
At the moment he was sitting up in the observation post above the shelter, where he'd been ever since he'd heard about the end of the world on the radio. The raiders were long gone and no Gold Bloc troops were anywhere close to Utah, so he had nothing physical to guard against. But given the day's events it felt like anything could and probably would go wrong, so he was keeping watch all the same.
Next to him rested one of his Geiger counters, although he hadn't heard of any nukes landing close enough to make fallout a danger to Aspen Hill. Hill Air Force Base in northern Utah had probably been hit, but years ago he'd carefully checked projected fallout maps to make sure Aspen Hill was safe. And the town was far enough from large population centers, and well situated enough in relation to them, that even if one of them was hit the fallout wouldn't blow directly their way.
In fact he'd heard that the Gold Bloc retaliation had actually been fairly restrained, at most twenty nukes at major military targets or remaining population centers, mostly along the coasts. He doubted that restraint had come from mercy, and most of those he and Chauncey had talked to on the radio agreed.
The general consensus was that with their own homes now glow-in-the-dark wastelands, the Gold Bloc survivors had set their sights on the American continent as a spot to colonize, and they wanted it as intact as possible.
Lewis looked down at his feet, where Jane was curled up on the floor of the observation post with a blanket wrapped around her, even over her head to block out the late afternoon sun. She'd sat with him on his silent vigil ever since the news came over the radio, before finally falling asleep with her head in his lap an hour or so ago. When he transferred her to a more comfortable sleeping position and fetched a blanket she'd made no protest, and in spite of the situation exhaustion had drawn her into a deep sleep.
News of the nuclear war had drawn out the more taciturn side of her, and she'd barely spoken a dozen words in the last several hours. But he knew her well enough to recognize worry as deep as his own in her neutral expression.
All he could see was a shapeless bundle, yet even so Lewis was struck with a fierce surge of emotions: love, affection, concern, and more than a little fear. He was still getting used to the idea that they were married, that their friendship had grown into everything he could've hoped for, and now this had happened. They'd already gone through so much, and now they faced having to deal with things going from bad to worse to worst.
He wanted to shield her from it. It wasn't a matter of what he thought she could handle, since she'd already proven up to the challenges life had presented them and in a tough situation he'd trust her at his side above anyone he knew. It was a matter of what he could handle seeing her forced to handle. He couldn't bear the thought of her suffering, of possibly losing her. And he didn't want her to have to face losing him.
Could the US fight off a better trained and supplied enemy that had literally no option but to conquer the nation? Could a broken populace with no sense of unity, barely managing to survive in most cases, band together to mount the sort of resistance required to repel the invasion?
Earlier in the spring, shortly after returning to Aspen Hill from the mountains, he'd had a conversation with Chauncey and Trev about the logistical nightmare of crossing an ocean and trying to occupy one of the best armed countries in the world that boasted a population of over three hundred million people.
Only the enemy was already across the ocean with a foothold in Canada, and the US population might be half that or less now. As for being well armed, did the people still have the fierce independence and fighting spirit to risk their lives to protect their homes and freedom?
Aspen Hill did. The last few weeks had proven that without a shadow of a doubt.
A noise from behind made Lewis jerk his head up and around, and with a start he realized that Matt had climbed the hill from the shelter and was now less than ten feet away. He must've been more tired and preoccupied than he thought if his friend had managed to get so close without him noticing.
Matt started to open his mouth to call a greeting, but Lewis gave him a sharp look and nodded towards the sleeping bundle in the observation post. His friend came the rest of the way in silence, looking down at Jane's blanket-covered head with a slight smile on his face.
In spite of his smile the taller man looked exhausted and grief-stricken. An appropriate enough response considering the upwards of billions of people who'd died in the last few hours. Matt rested a hand on Lewis's shoulder, then leaned in close to whisper.
“You two have sat through a full shift. Counting your shift last night that makes two today with no sleep in between. Get Jane inside and get some rest.”
Lewis nodded wearily. “I suppose there's not really anything to watch out for, is there? We're far away from the horror that's tearing the world apart.”
“We are, thank God,” Matt agreed. “But even so I'll take over for you here. I could do with some time to sort things through myself.”
After returning the gesture of a hand on his friend's shoulder Lewis crouched to pick up his wife. There were things vital to their survival to get done tomorrow, which were much more important than his desire to sit and brood.
Jane stirred slightly and mumbled as he gathered her up in his arms, at least until he whispered that he was taking her inside. Then she quieted down, shaking her head free of the blankets so she could rest it sleepily against his shoulder with her red hair framing her face.
Lewis was fairly tall, a bit over six feet, but his wife was only a few inches shorter than him. Even so, thanks to her naturally skinny build he didn't have too much trouble carrying her down the hill and carefully maneuvering her through the double doors into the shipping container shed that was their new home, leaving them open behind him.
They hadn't ha
d time to run an extension cord for lights yet, so the interior was lit only by the sunlight streaming through those open doors. It also bothered Lewis that anyone could potentially come and shut the doors tight if they wanted, effectively locking them in a room with thick metal walls, although thankfully with small air holes up near the ceiling so they wouldn't suffocate. The knowledge of that vulnerability made him grateful that the shelter was full of friends to watch out for them while they slept.
Although just to be safe he'd padlocked the doors so they couldn't be fully closed. Unless someone used a pair of bolt cutters or a heavy tool to take them off, which would definitely wake him and Jane up.
He picked his way through the dimness to their double cots at the back and gently set Jane down. In spite of her weariness his wife stayed awake long enough for Lewis to kick off his boots and slip under the blankets with her, curling up against him to go back to sleep.
But as exhausted as he felt Lewis still couldn't manage to drift off himself, troubled mind imagining the horrific suffering happening all over the world. Instead he spent a long time holding his wife and staring at the dimly lit ceiling overhead, dreading the future.
* * * * *
“I'm glad you managed to convince Lewis and Jane to get some sleep. They were starting to look like zombies after being awake so long.”
Matt turned from his inspection of the surrounding area to see that Sam had followed him up to the observation post. He didn't want to admit it, but he'd been checking for signs of a mushroom cloud on the horizon.
He smiled and held out an arm, and she came to huddle beside him staring out to the east. He was content to just be with his wife, her presence easing his fears for her safety in spite of everything that was happening.
She seemed to need to talk, though, which was also fine. “I can't believe the government finally made good on their promise to launch nukes. How many millions or even billions of people just died?”
