The Long Road - A Post Apocalyptic Novel (The New World)

by G. Michael Hopf

  At the end of the loft was a staircase. He hurried over and stopped. He could hear voices down below. One sounded like Annaliese; the other he wasn’t familiar with, but it was another woman. It sounded like they were talking about him, but just as he started to make out what they were saying, a voice from behind startled him.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “What? Ahh . . . jeez, you scared me,” Sebastian said. He looked around to see a young boy. He recognized him from the day before.

  “Your leg. Does it hurt?”

  “Uhh . . . yeah, kinda. In fact, it’s hurting more than usual,” Sebastian said, then walked past the boy to the sectional and sat down.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Now aren’t you full of questions?”

  The boy walked over to the sectional and sat down next to him. “My sister said you survived a helicopter crash. Was it scary?”

  “I’ll tell you what, let’s play a game. I’ll answer a question and then you’ll answer a question, okay?”

  The boy thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

  “So your first question was ‘Does it hurt’? Yes, it does. So, my question is. What city are we in?”

  “Encinitas. Where are you from?”

  “I’m originally from Maryland, but I now live or used to live at Camp Pendleton. I guess you could say I’m homeless. I was heading to see my brother when the helicopter crashed.” Sebastian looked at the boy. He thought about how well mannered and mature he seemed for his age. He guessed that he was about eight years old. His sandy blond hair was cut short, and his clothes showed a boy who seemed sheltered, a solid-colored blue polo-type shirt, jeans, and white socks. Sebastian smiled and continued. “When are you leaving for Zion?”

  The boy looked a bit shocked by this question. “You know about Zion?”

  “No way, my turn. When are you leaving?”

  “My father wants to leave next week.”

  “How many in your family?”

  The boy waved his finger at Sebastian. “No, way, my turn.”

  Sebastian chuckled and replied, “Go ahead.”

  “My sister said you’re a Marine. Ever kill anyone?”

  Now Sebastian looked shocked. “How old are you?”

  “Answer the question.”

  “Listen, I think we’ve played this game long enough, okay?”

  “I think you have too,” Annaliese said. She was standing at the top of the stairs.

  Sebastian was surprised he hadn’t heard her walking up. He wondered how long she had been listening to his back-and-forth with her little brother.

  “Sorry, I wanted to stretch my legs or leg, and I ran into him. What’s your name anyway?”

  “Away with you. Now go, you have things to do. Go see Uncle James in the garage,” Annaliese commanded her little brother.

  Jumping up without a word, he walked for the stairs, but before he started down, he turned and answered Sebastian. “My name’s Zachary, but you can call me Zach,” He smiled, then hurried down the stairs past his sister.

  “Nice boy. So, were you spying on us?” Sebastian asked Annaliese.

  “No, I heard voices up here so I came to see what was going on,” she said, walking farther into the room.

  “Listen, I’m really sorry about earlier.”

  “It’s okay, I shouldn’t be so sensitive.” Annaliese approached the sectional and sat down a few feet away from him. “I know this is all strange to you and that all you know is one minute you were in a helicopter and now you’re here. I’m sorry about your friends and comrades. What questions do you have? I’ll do my best to answer them.”

  Being mindful of his previous gaffe, he chose to be as polite and conscious of his facial expressions as possible. He openly asked questions, and she answered as straightforwardly as possible. She told him about Zion, about how their prophet John Smith claimed it to be the place for their people to go at the end of days. She further explained that the Mormons have always been a prepared people, always stockpiling food, water, and essential supplies. When the lights went out, their church was ready. They communicated with old ham radios they had stored in Faraday boxes; some had older vehicles that worked, and all had all the other tools necessary to protect and defend themselves.

  She went into detail about what had happened locally after the attack. The reports she’d heard were horrible; she herself had not witnessed the initial atrocities, but some in her group had ventured out to plan a route for their trek away from San Diego. Of course many San Diegans were not prepared for this type of event, and within only a few days many had taken to the streets to look for food. Civil unrest had exploded quickly, followed by a total breakdown in civility. People attacked each other for the slightest bit of food. Rumors that a militia was killing and kidnapping people were being heard a few weeks after the attack. This news caused panic within her group, leading her father to start preparations for an evacuation.

  When she finally was allowed outside of her ranch, the things she’d seen and now described to Sebastian were horrific. She paused now and then when she described what she’d seen. The bloated and mutilated bodies were not just commonplace; they were everywhere. She was shocked by the death and carnage. She had only been let outside with her uncle when someone had radioed that ships were off the coast. Rumors then began that the government was here to help, but reality proved otherwise. She told him that she had heard the distant gunfire that hit his helicopter and had seen it go down not far from where they sat.

  Sebastian took all the information in. At times he had to remind himself to blink. He was transfixed by every word she said. Even though he’d known things would go to shit, it was still shocking to hear the specific details from an eyewitness. As she went on, his concern for Gordon grew. His brother wasn’t the prepper type. The first four weeks had been a violent and bloody fight for the limited resources in the area. After Annaliese had explained everything she knew, he expressed his concern for his brother and his family.

  “I need to go check on my brother.”

  “You still need to heal, maybe next week.”

  “No, I need to go. You’re leaving next week, and by the way it sounds out there, I have to go. He might need me now.”

  “I understand. Let me talk to my father,” she said and placed her hand on his back and rubbed him gently.

  “Can you go now?” Sebastian asked.

  “Sure,” she said. She stood and walked away.

  A queasy feeling overcame him as he thought about Gordon, but more specifically about Hunter and Haley. The thoughts of the horrors befalling them made Sebastian sick. He had to find his brother and he had to do it now.

  40 miles east of Barstow, California

  The sun’s rays cascaded across Samantha’s face. She twitched for a minute, then rolled over and attempted to go back into the deep sleep she had been enjoying. She then thought about Gordon. She hadn’t seen him off when he left last night. As a couple they worked hard at their relationship, but this time they’d both broken a vow of not going to bed mad. After the group’s meeting, she fed the kids, got them ready for bed, and went to bed herself, all without uttering a word to him. Their silence was mutual, as Gordon didn’t attempt to smooth things over either. Now, though, she regretted her behavior.

  She rolled back on her back and placed her hand on the empty part of the bed he usually occupied. She wondered where he was. Slight concern grew, but she dismissed it quickly because knowing Gordon he was probably outside, “getting something done.” Her thoughts were then directed to the little footsteps she could hear coming toward her. Haley was tiptoeing, taking each step gently so as to not wake her mother, whom she thought was still asleep.

  “Come here, baby,” Samantha whispered.

  Seeing her mother was awake, Haley hurried over and jumped into the bed next to her. They both cuddled, and Samantha kissed her daughter on the head.

  “Where’s Daddy?” Haley asked.

 
; “I don’t know . . .” Samantha yawned.

  Both of them continued with small talk. Haley had started to role-play more since the lights went out. She would tell her mother that she was Princess Celestia from My Little Pony and that Samantha was her sister. She assigned everyone in the family a role. Samantha didn’t mind this innocence. She would play along with her daughter, creating new worlds and exploring them together.

  “Where’s Hunter?” Haley asked in the middle of the make-believe.

  “He’s not in the back?” Samantha sat up a bit to try to see him.

  “No,” Haley replied.

  Samantha again soothed her instinctual concern and imagined her son was out with Gordon.

  After another ten minutes of play, Samantha knew she needed to get up and get ready; the group would be heading out soon.

  When she stepped out of the trailer, the smells of desert sage and campfire smoke mixed and filled her nostrils. The sky was a deep blue, and the sun felt good. People in her group were packing their vehicles, and she could see Nelson talking to his father.

  She made her way over to him and said, “Morning, Nelson. Seen Gordon?”

  “Nope.”

  Placing her hand on her brow to shield her eyes, she scanned the encircled vehicles. She didn’t see his truck. A deep feeling of dread overcame her.

  “Who was on watch last night?” she asked.

  “It was Eric,” Nelson answered, then continued. “You all right?”

  “Um, I don’t know. I’m a bit worried.” She quickly walked toward Eric and Melissa’s trailer. After a solid minute of banging, Melissa opened the door.

  “Eric is sleeping. What is it?”

  “I need to know if Eric saw Gordon return.”

  “He’s not here?” Melissa asked, sticking her head out and looking around.

  “Please wake him up,” Samantha begged.

  Melissa could see the worry on Samantha’s face. “Sure, one second.”

  Eric rose quickly and came to the door. “Melissa just told me that Gordon’s still not back. They didn’t come back on my watch.”

  “Don’t you think that’s odd? Why didn’t you wake me or tell anyone?” Samantha snapped.

  “No, I didn’t think anything of it, really. Gordon takes care of himself, and I thought they would be back anytime.”

  Samantha then turned away quickly. Total fear gripped her as she realized that she hadn’t seen Hunter either.

  Turning back around, she asked, “Did you see Hunter, have you seen him?”

  Eric glanced at Melissa, then answered, “No, I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

  Samantha didn’t say another word to them. She jogged off quickly and went to each person in their group. She asked them all the same question. The responses were all the same. No one had seen him. She then began to scream for her son. “Hunter! Hunter!”

  All in the group just stared at her. Nelson approached and said, “Samantha, we’ll find him. He probably just walked off to . . .”

  “To what, Nelson? Look around. We’re in the fucking desert. Where is he?”

  “We’re going to organize a quick search party, okay?” Nelson said in an attempt to reassure her.

  She ignored him and took off running toward her trailer. She flung open the door and grabbed Haley. She took her to Melissa and Eric’s and dropped her off with instructions to watch over her. She then went back to her trailer and grabbed a backpack with some water. Just before she stepped out, she saw the Sig Sauer pistol that Gordon had given her weeks ago. She placed it in her waistband.

  Nelson had put together a couple of people to help. They met her just outside her trailer.

  Stepping down, she turned to Nelson and said, “Let’s go find my boy.”

  Unknown military installation

  Gordon’s body was racked with pain from his head to his legs. He was confused about how long he’d been out and even where he was. The only light he saw was coming from the cracks along one of the edges of the room. The odors of mold and dust were intense. Not being able to see, he stood up to walk the perimeter of the room. The first thing he noticed was that the walls were a corrugated metal; the second was that the room was long and narrow. When he reached the end where the light was peeking through, he knew. It wasn’t about where he was but about what he was in—a Conex box. He continued walking the narrow interior to locate anything or anyone that might be in there with him. Nothing.

  His thoughts raced to the night before, the running, the fighting, Hunter. Where was Hunter? He vaguely remembered being hit, then tied up. The memory of the drive didn’t exist for him. The last thing he recalled was being placed in the bed of the truck with his son. He felt his wrists; the pain of the tight bands being tied around them was still present. He slowly walked back to the door and began to bang. The metal door gave a deep thud with each impact of his closed fist.

  “Open the door!” he yelled. He repeated it over and over.

  Finally after what must have been an hour he heard someone on the other side. The sound of a padlock being unlocked was followed by the heavy sound of the latch moving. Soon he’d be face-to-face with whoever took him and Hunter.

  “Before we open up, step back! Don’t think about doing anything, you understand?” the voice yelled from the other side.

  Gordon’s initial instinct was to fight, but not knowing where Hunter was, he had to snuff out his flame of resistance. He stepped away from the door. “I stepped back! I just want to speak to someone!”

  The anticipation of seeing this person or people gripped him. He took a few more steps back. He didn’t know what would be coming in and what they meant to do to him.

  A loud clang and bang preceded the door creaking open. The bright light from the outside flooded in, blinding him. Squinting, he tried to see, but his eyes were having a difficult time adjusting. All he could see were two shadowy figures. Feeling even more nervous, he moved back farther. The two figures stepped inside. Gordon’s heart raced. Again the instinct to fight was there, but he resisted it. He blinked rapidly until his eyes adjusted and both men came into focus. They were average height, had long hair, and their clothes were soiled. Gordon quickly noticed they were armed with pistols holstered in standard green military side holsters.

  “Where am I?” Gordon asked.

  “You’ll have all of your questions answered soon enough,” one of the men responded. They both approached Gordon, one holding some rope, the other what looked like a sack.

  “What are you going to do?” Gordon asked, stepping back as far as he could. His back was now against the far wall.

  “We’re not going to hurt you. We just need to take you with us,” one of the men said. Both had now stopped their advance and stood a few feet from Gordon.

  “If you want your questions answered, you’ll need to come with us, and this is the only way,” the other man said, holding up the sack.

  Gordon quickly analyzed the situation, sizing the men up. They were both lean and of average build. He had fought more than one man before and won, but these two had an advantage. He finally held up his hands. If he could get in front of whoever was in charge, maybe he could find Hunter and then find a way out of this situation.

  Both men stepped forward, tied his hands behind his back, and covered his head with the sack. They turned him around and escorted him out of the Conex box.

  Gordon felt the sun’s warmth the instant he exited. He could hear some people talking in the distance, but their words were unintelligible. The thick canvas sack made it impossible to get his bearings. He tried counting his steps, but he didn’t know if that would be of any benefit. Soon they came to a door, and he went through with his escorts. A couple of turns, one last door, and he was taken into a room. They pushed him down into a chair and forcibly removed the sack and tape. The smell in the air was sweet, like incense was burning somewhere. The room was devoid of anything distinguishable. It was small, just space enough for a table and four chairs. N
othing hung on the garish white walls, and there was no window.

  He blinked repeatedly and saw a nicely dressed man across a table from him. The man appeared to be in his early fifties, with long black hair pulled back into a ponytail and a thin beard that covered his face. Gordon again looked at the men who had taken him there; they too had long hair.

  “What’s up with the long hair?” he asked with a smirk.

  The man who sat across from him started to tap his finger on the table.

  “Where am I? Where’s my son? Why have you taken us?”

  “Calm down. I’ll answer everything in due time. I have a few questions of my own,” the man said. His voice was soft with a slight eastern European accent.

  “Where is my son?”

  “Your boy is fine, no harm has come to him. He is being looked after.”

  “Let me and my son go, please.”

  Ignoring Gordon, the man began to talk. “My name is Rahab, and I want to share a story with you. I came to this country over twenty years ago from the Ukraine. A beautiful country, Ukraine, but nothing like the United States. I was amazed by everything I saw here. You have to remember that I was a child of the Soviet era. We didn’t have all the things you Americans take for granted. Just the stores alone were magical. The first time I walked into a Walmart I was in disbelief. I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. So much to buy, so many options, so many luxuries. Aah, I took it all in.

  “I immersed myself in the American dream. I worked hard and played hard. I drank from the hedonistic cup that is America and loved it. I let go of all my inhibitions. Nothing was too much for me, you see; I looked at it this way. If America won the Cold War, then they must be doing something right. I can’t tell you how much I believed that then as a young man. My gluttony knew no end until I woke up one day and looked around me. I had surrounded myself with people, so-called friends, girls, but they weren’t real people, they were shells of people. The excess that is America rotted them out and was rotting me out too. I then found the truth to it all, and that was God.”