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

by G. Michael Hopf

  “He was going to kill Hunter. I had no choice!”

  “Yes, you did. You could have submitted to our rule and followed us, but you made a choice. There are consequences for our actions. You made a choice many years ago to be the man you are. No one forced you to be that way. Something brought you to where you are now. God placed you in my hands to cleanse you. You are a sinner, Gordon, and today you will pay a dear price for your actions. Today you will know the pain that comes from making a decision that is the wrong one,” Rahab said, then turned. He pulled out his long knife and stepped toward Hunter.

  “No, no, no! Please don’t! Stop! No, don’t! Please, God no! No, no!” Gordon was screaming. Spit spewed from his mouth as he continued to beg Rahab. “Hunter, I love you! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I failed you!”

  As Rahab stepped to within a foot of Hunter, the boy spoke. “Daddy, I’m scared!”

  “Close your eyes!” Gordon cried out.

  “Daddy, I love you. You never failed me because you loved me!”

  “No, God! Please, don’t do this!” Gordon cried louder. Tears were bursting from his eyes. Thick saliva was building in his throat as nausea washed over him. “Rahab, stop! Please!”

  Rahab now stood directly in front of Hunter. He raised the knife high above his head.

  “No, no, no!” Gordon continued to cry out. Tears kept pouring forth. He looked at Hunter. He could see his son’s beautiful face, his deep blue eyes and light brown, wispy hair. Quick flashes of his little face when he was born came to Gordon’s mind. He remembered the first time he saw those blue eyes. How they looked at him with all the trust in the world.

  “No, please, God, no!”

  Rahab paused for a second, then committed himself and drove the knife deep into Hunter’s chest.

  Hunter screamed out for a few seconds, then fell silent.

  “God no! No, not my baby boy! No! You fucking monster! You’re a fucking monster! Aaaw, noooo, my baby boy. Nooooo!” Gordon was sobbing intensely. He was in a state of shock as he looked at his son, the large knife sticking out of his chest. The deep, dark blood rushed out of Hunter’s chest and ran down his small body. Gordon screamed.

  Rahab pulled the knife free and turned toward Gordon. “You killed my son today, so I killed yours. This was not a spiritual rule, this was an earthly rule. Now you have paid the price!” He took a step closer and stood only a foot away from Gordon.

  Gordon couldn’t stop looking at his son’s lifeless body.

  Rahab moved so that he blocked Hunter’s body from Gordon’s view and said, “You have paid the price. Now you will live with this,” Rahab said as he took the knife and sliced Gordon’s right cheek open. “Every time you look in a mirror you will remember this day.”

  The deep cut bled heavily. The tears from his sobbing were mixing with the blood as they both ran down his face.

  “Good-bye, Gordon Van Zandt!”

  Outside unknown military installation

  The image of the man and boy running kept plaguing Nelson. He was determined to find a better spot to view, but he had to figure out how to do so without being seen. To avoid silhouetting himself, he pulled back and headed toward the car. He would navigate along the backside of the mountain, down toward the road, and cut across the open desert that connected the western range and the southern range. He was hoping the southern mountains would give him a better view.

  “Damn it,” he yelled out in pain as he twisted his ankle.

  Sitting down on a large rock, he rubbed his ankle. The terrain was covered with small rocks lying atop loose soil. He calculated that it would take him a bit over an hour to get to the south mountains. Determining his ankle was fine, he pressed on.

  Gunfire coming from the base over the mountains stopped him in his tracks. Screams were mixed in the rattle of the gunshots, but then all fell silent. Nelson started to run as best he could. Seconds later, he heard a few more shots. Then silence again.

  Halfway through his migration to the south mountains, Nelson expressed to himself regret for being so cautious. He wished he had just taken the chance and gone down to recon the base near the berm. The conflicting internal dialogue consumed him. He thought of Samantha and Haley. If they couldn’t find Gordon and something happened to him, that would leave both of them alone. While Nelson trusted Eric, he’d promised Gordon he’d watch over them. To put his regret at ease, he ran harder.

  His timing was close; an hour and half later he reached a safe hide position in the south mountains from which to observe.

  The base was alive with activity. He saw cars and other vehicles lining up near the main buildings. People were moving back and forth.

  A smaller group was gathered near two large X structures on the runway. Nelson found this curious.

  Pulling out his binoculars, he took a look. What came into focus shocked him.

  On the X that faced him he saw Gordon. His face hung low, and blood covered the entire front of his body.

  “Shit!” Nelson cried out. All he could think was that Gordon was dead.

  More noise came from the base as the convoy started up and began a slow procession out.

  Nelson frantically scanned the base from top to bottom, left to right. He saw no one; it appeared empty.

  Once the last vehicle had cleared the gate, Nelson stood up and began his trek down the mountain.

  He felt like his heart was going to burst. He ran as hard as he could. He kept his eye on the base for movement, but it now seemed like a ghost town. Clearing the berm with ease, he was almost to Gordon. With each step he took he was hoping he’d see Gordon lift his head, but nothing happened. His body hung strapped to the large wood beams.

  Nelson was running so fast and he was so focused on Gordon that he didn’t see Hunter on the other cross.

  “Gordon? Gordon?” he cried out as he reached his friend. Grabbing his face, he lifted his head.

  Gordon moaned a bit and opened his eyes. He peered at Nelson through slits because he didn’t have the strength to open his eyes fully.

  “Oh my God, you’re alive. Shit, man, you had me scared there!” Nelson said, quickly examining his friend. Nelson took notice of the large cut on Gordon’s face. “You hurt anywhere else?”

  “Hunter,” Gordon said above a whisper.

  “What’s that?”

  “Hunterrrr,” Gordon said louder.

  “Hunter, yes. Where is he?” Nelson asked as he was cutting away the restraint on his friend’s left arm.

  Gordon pointed with his right hand, which was still bound to the cross.

  Nelson saw him point and stopped what he was doing. He just stared at Gordon’s right hand.

  “Hunter,” Gordon said again.

  Nelson didn’t want to turn around. He hesitated as long as possible; the fear of seeing Hunter dead was too much for him.

  “Hunterrrr,” Gordon said with a raised voice.

  Knowing he couldn’t wait any longer, Nelson turned around. His eyes widened when he saw the boy’s obviously dead form hanging from the cross. Hunter’s face and hands were a pale color. The volume of blood on and around his corpse told Nelson the death must have been horrible. “Oh fuck, no! No, God, no!” Nelson felt his throat tighten, and tears began to collect in his eyes. He walked over to the boy and placed his fingers against his throat to check for a pulse that he already knew wasn’t there. Nelson ran his hand up to Hunter’s cold face in a gentle motion. Placing his hand then on the boy’s head, he leaned in and kissed the top of his head. Not wanting Hunter to remain this way, he took out his knife and cut him down.

  Hunter’s cold and stiffening body fell into Nelson’s arms. With all the gentleness and grace he could muster, Nelson laid him on the ground softly.

  “Nelson, cut me down,” Gordon said, his voice hoarse from the yelling earlier.

  Nelson jumped up and took his friend down.

  Gordon, too, fell into Nelson’s arms, but the weight was too much for Nelson to hold him. Gravity conti
nued to play its part, and Gordon fell to his knees. With no desire or strength to try to get to his feet, Gordon crawled over to Hunter’s body.

  “Aaaaw, nooooo. My baby boy. Noooooo,” he cried out i.

  Nelson just stood, feeling like he wasn’t even in his body. Everything just felt so strange. All they had wanted was to find them. If they had found them sooner, this might not have been Hunter’s fate. Then the question came to him: How would he tell Samantha?

  40 miles east of Barstow, California

  “Mommy! You’re back!” Haley squealed with excitement seeing Samantha step out of the truck.

  Ignoring her daughter, Samantha asked Beth Holloway, “What’s happened? Where is everybody?”

  “They took off,” Beth said flatly.

  “What do you mean they took off?”

  “She means just that,” Eric said, walking up.

  “Eric, what happened?”

  “The Thompsons and Behrens pulled guns on us. They tied me up and hit Nelson’s father over the head,” Eric said.

  “What did they take?” Samantha asked, concerned that they might have taken some of their stuff.

  “They took what they said was theirs and just left. They didn’t want to sit around anymore,” Beth said.

  “So where do they think they’re going? Idaho? They’re not welcome at our place,” Samantha stated boldly. She picked up Haley and asked, “You okay, sweetie?”

  Haley nodded and hugged Samantha.

  “So no one was hurt but Nelson’s father?”

  “I’m fine. It’ll take more than a hit to the ole’ noggin to stop me,” he joked.

  “Whatever, good riddance,” Samantha said.

  Lexi stepped up to the others and said, “Hi, I’m Lexi.”

  “Hi, Lexi,” Beth said, holding her child. She looked over at Samantha quizzically.

  “Lexi, this is Beth Holloway and this is Eric; his wife, Melissa; and Frank Williams, Nelson’s father. You of course already met Seneca and Mack,” Samantha said, introducing everyone still there. “Oh, and this is Haley.”

  The little girl waved shyly, then tucked her head back into Samantha’s shoulder.

  “Hi,” Lexi said with a hand extended in the air. “Hi, Haley,” she then said in a softer tone.

  Haley reminded her of her little sister, the sister Rahab had killed a few days before.

  “I don’t want to bore you with the details of what happened to her, but this is our group,” Samantha said, looking around, unsure of what else to talk about.

  “Where can I get cleaned up?” Lexi asked.

  “Come with me,” Beth said.

  Lexi walked with Beth toward their trailer.

  “So how much stuff did we lose?” Samantha asked Eric.

  “None of our stuff. They took only their stuff and left. I don’t know why they thought they had to hit Frank and tie me up.”

  “Like I said, good riddance, but I better not see them in Idaho,” Samantha shot back. She then looked at her watch. The night would be upon them soon. She was concerned for Nelson but felt confident he’d be careful.

  “Where’s my son?” Frank asked.

  “He stayed back to see if he could find out more about that place,” Samantha answered.

  “Will he be okay?”

  “He insisted,” Samantha said. Now that Frank was worried, she started to feel that leaving Nelson there might not have been the best thing to do.

  Both turned and looked toward the north as if they just might see him pulling up.

  “You’re right. He’ll be okay,” Frank said.

  Trying to reassure herself, Samantha said, “Yeah, he’s probably just heading back now.”

  “Hopefully, he’ll have some more info on that place.”

  “Yeah, I hope so, I really do,” Samantha answered.

  Haley had fallen asleep, and her warm breath on Samantha’s neck contrasted with the cool breeze blowing in from the north.

  JANUARY 16, 2014

  “None love the messenger who brings bad news.”

  – Sophocles

  Cheyenne Mountain, CO

  Cruz was becoming accustomed to the early morning banging on his door. While he appreciated that they didn’t call because they didn’t want to wake his family, banging on his door was no less disturbing, he thought.

  Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he opened the door to see Baxter.

  “General, we really have to stop meeting like this,” Cruz said groggily as he leaned against the open door.

  “They found the ring and . . . ,” Baxter said firmly.

  “Shit, okay. Umm, what time is it?” Cruz asked, interrupting him.

  “Zero, four-thirty-four, sir.”

  “I don’t want to wake her. Let’s plan on . . .”

  “Sir, she already knows.”

  “Huh? How?” Cruz asked, standing straight up.

  “She’s been near the command post most of the night. As soon as the team came in, she went directly down to them . . .”

  “I get the picture. How is she?”

  “They told me she was blunt and seemed almost emotionless about it. She thanked them then left. No one’s seen her since then.”

  “When was that?” Cruz asked; he was concerned for Julia.

  “Not more than fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Did she ID the ring?”

  “Yes, sir, she looked at it. Asked a few questions, then left.”

  “Let’s go see her. I want to make sure she’s okay,” Cruz said, grabbing his keys and closing the door.

  “You’re not going to change?” Baxter asked, looking down at Cruz’s striped pajamas.

  Cruz shrugged off his question.

  Both men proceeded with haste to Julia’s room. On the way they discussed how they would address the situation.

  Baxter flatly said, “We need to get you sworn in immediately.”

  “That can wait. But I do need to find a new VP.”

  “Don’t look at me, sir,” Baxter said, gazing at him from the corner of his eye.

  “You have nothing to worry about, General. I have someone else in mind.”

  “Who would that be?”

  “No one you’d know, but sort of a former colleague of mine when I was governor of Florida.”

  “And?”

  “Governor Sheila Morgan. I worked closely with her on the Governors Association and she used to be the governor of Texas. If I can get her, she would prove to be important in our negotiations with the Texas Republic.”

  “Should I try to contact her today?”

  “No need, I already did. She’s thinking about it,” Cruz said while cracking a smile. He was proud that he was thinking ahead. “I know you’re probably thinking, What was I doing calling her before we received any conclusive info on the president? Well, if I’m leaving tomorrow, I better have something in place. It’s all about COG, right?”

  “What does she need to think about?” Baxter asked, curious as to why someone would turn down such an honor.

  “She’s been asked to serve in a similar capacity in Texas. She’s obviously torn.”

  “Can I be candid?”

  They had reached Julia’s door and stopped.

  Cruz looked at Baxter and answered, “Sure.”

  “Besides moving up the date for your departure, you haven’t made any plans or decisions in relation to what happened yesterday.”

  “You said there wasn’t anything we could do,” Cruz responded, taken aback by Baxter’s accusatory tone.

  “It was good to start thinking about your replacement, but you need to have third and fourth people in place. You also need to make a decision about what we plan on doing with the millions of refugees entering the midwestern states.”

  “General, I’ll ask you. What would you do?”

  “Sir, that’s not my call. You’re the one in charge.”

  Cruz was getting pissed by this unexpected confrontation. “After we’re done here, let’s meet,” he
said. This isn’t the place to have this conversation.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Cruz took a moment to study Baxter’s face. Then, as he was getting ready to knock, Julia’s door opened.

  She stood there looking unfazed by the recent news of her husband. “Gentlemen, come in,” she said.

  The men took a quick glance at each other and then entered.

  “Please sit down.” Julia pointed to the sofa. The same sofa where she had learned of Brad’s disappearance.

  Cruz and Baxter sat down, both looking sheepish because Julia was definitely in control.

  “I know why you’re here. I’m okay. I needed this closure. I can now plan my life knowing he’s gone,” she said, looking down quickly to fight back any emotion. Regaining her composure, she continued. “Andrew, you have been Brad’s friend for a long time. I know how this works. Take the oath and do what you need to do. Don’t worry about me. Go to Portland. Lead this country out of this.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Cruz asked.

  “Yes, now go. I overheard your conversation outside my door. Go, sit down with the general and get your differences worked out.”

  Cruz looked at Baxter.

  Julia was confident and acting as if nothing had happened.

  “Please call me if you need anything,” Cruz said, then stood.

  Baxter followed his lead. Keeping quiet seemed like the thing to do. There wasn’t anything he could add.

  “Thank you for coming down,” Julia said. “I’ll be fine. If I don’t see you before you leave, be safe.” She walked over and hugged Cruz.

  Cruz embraced her and whispered, “I’m so sorry, Julia.”

  “No, it’s okay. Thank you,” she replied softly.

  “Take care, Julia. I hope I’ll see you in Portland soon.”

  “You take care, okay? Thank you for everything you did, you’re a good friend.”

  Baxter opened the door for Cruz. Both men left and walked toward the briefing room, not saying a word about the odd meeting with the first lady.

  Julia closed the door and locked it behind them. She went into the bedroom and lay back down. Beside her on the bed were a shirt and jacket of Brad’s. She brought them to her nose and breathed in deeply. Holding the breath, she hugged the shirt and rolled onto her side. She looked at the prescription bottle on the nightstand. Tears formed in her eyes and dripped onto the bedspread. Reaching out, she grabbed the bottle and opened it.