After a week, I make my decision. She deserves a chance to see her plan for survival work, and I know me being here will make that impossible. I'm not lying when I say I've got a decent grasp of what we're facing. My work demanded a certain knowledge of the concept of nuclear winter, and this is as close to it as it gets. I've talked to her about it, and I'd say she's got enough to last from seven to ten years, depending on a lot of unknown factors. That gives her a decent shot, but not if she has to share her resources with me. Okay, so I would live for a while longer, but in the end, I'd condemn her to death. She's already asked me to stay, more than once. She'd love the company, she says. Glenda's probably the sweetest woman I've ever met, and I'd like nothing more than to spend more time with her. I enjoy listening to her stories from a long, rich life. But again, she deserves a chance, and I refuse to be the one to take it away from her.
She stands in the doorway, waving goodbye as I turn away, heading north. She's given me at least two weeks of supplies, a new fuel cell, and a water purifier. Thankfully, I won't have to face what I did before she found me. Nevertheless, having had time to think about my options and my odds for survival in an increasingly hostile environment, I know my days out here by myself are numbered. How long will I last? I don't know.
But I have one last chance; one I’d merely hoped for, but never really believed in, until Derek convinced me it was real enough, though unreachable. Since waking up in Glenda's cabin, I haven't thought much about it, but last night, I discovered it's not too far from here. Glenda told me once she’d given up trying to talk me out of leaving and realized I wouldn't budge. She told me she sometimes trades with their scouts, although few come by this way. She'd first learned of the place from putting what one of them said up against what another said, like pieces of a puzzle. When she finally confronted one that she'd come to know well, the scout told her all about it. As she confirmed the story Derek had told me, a plan formed in my mind. Before going to bed, I asked her if she had promised them to keep the place a secret. She nodded. I asked her why she told me about it. She said she wanted me to have a chance, although she didn't know how they'd receive me. I thanked her and gave her a good hug, wishing there were more people like her.
It doesn't matter what happens next, I think as I walk away from Glenda's cabin. I just need something to grab onto; hope, however small. If I can last long enough to reach it, the refuge is my only chance at long-term survival. I have all the motivation I need now, a fact that keeps my feet moving, and my mind racing. I stare straight ahead, knowing that in a week, perhaps a little more, I'll finally reach that place I've been dreaming of. Buchanan's refuge.
6.
Fifteen days later, I'm stumbling through the blizzard. It had started three days ago, and I stayed inside my shelter for a day and night. When it didn’t look like the blizzard would subside, I figured I had two choices: either I stay in the shelter, while my supplies dwindle and my strength whithers away, and wait for the weather to improve; or I pack up, and move out, giving it one last shot while I still have my strength. Now though, I'm thinking I may have made the wrong choice.
The strength I've built up is quickly seeping out of me, and every step feels like lifting a heavy weight. I don't know how long I can keep this up. And this time, there's no sweet old lady to pick me up and take care of me. I think I'm still on the right track as I've noticed several of the way markers Glenda told me about. So why haven't I found the place yet? It's been hours since I saw the last marker though. I should have found it by now. I look around. There's nothing to see anymore. Nothing but whiteout in every direction. I may have stumbled off the path. Who can tell in this weather? I breathe heavily, fighting despair, and consider finding a place to hunker down for the night. Just one more night. I'll manage. But what if the blizzard doesn't subside? What if it gets worse?
I hear a faint sound. I can't tell what direction it comes from. Might have been the wind; it sometimes plays tricks on me. Then I hear it again, closer this time. A voice. A figure appears against the white, just an outline at first, approaching. Then another. And a third. As they approach, I see they are armed. I make sure they can see I am unarmed. Who knows how little it might take to provoke them?
"Didn't you see the sign?" one of them shouts. I shake my head. I haven't seen any sign. I didn't even know there were signs out here. The blizzard turns everything into a white blur.
"This is private property," the man says. Clearly he's the one in charge.
"Are you from Buchanan's refuge?" I ask. The two in the back look at each other. I guess I wasn't supposed to know.
"Where did you hear that name?" The leader asks me. I refuse to rat out Glenda, so I change the subject.
"Will you take me there? I need to speak to the senator," I say. I know it's a longshot. I just figure I need to speak to someone in charge, or else I'll just be sent off to die. Mentioning the senator might make them wary of sending me off without knowing more.
And it works! The one in charge motions for the others to watch me, as he walks back the way he’d come. One of the others prods me with his gun, and I get the message. I start walking, following the leader, while the others watch me from behind.
After twenty minutes or so, we reach the gate of a tall fence, strengthened with barbed wire on top. The gate is guarded by two fortified posts, and I notice each is manned by three men. One of the posts sports a heavy machine gun, and the other some kind of rocket launcher. I also notice another fortification in the back, with long antennae sticking up from what looks like a dug-in armored vehicle. Looks like the senator spent the years prior to impact well.
There's no way to enter except for the gate, and as we approach, two people, a man and a woman approach us. They are dressed more lightly than the others, and probably stay indoors when there is no one at the gate. I notice my mind racing as I try to come up with something more to keep them from turning me away. I know if I can only reach the senator, the man in charge of it all, I’ll stand a good chance. These guys though… I notice the woman staring intently at me, but it is the man who seems to be in charge.
"What's this, Nathan?" he says when we're close enough to hear.
"You're supposed to keep them away. We already have too many mouths to feed." My captor, Nathan I guess his name is, leans forward and lowers his voice.
“He knows about the senator,” he says.
“What else does he know, and how did he learn it?” Nathan continues. The woman seems to nod in agreement, but the man shakes his head. Stubborn bastard, I think to myself.
“Look, we all know what’s at stake here. We cannot take in every person who’s heard some rumor, or who remembers the senator. Hell, he was a celebrity back then,” he says.
“But what if he’s got something important to say?” Nathan replies, and looks back at me. I figure it’s time to speak up for myself.
“Come on now, I have to speak to him,” I say. There’s no reply, so I go on.
“I’m a scientist, and my knowledge might be crucial to the long-term survival of everyone here.” The man at the gate starts laughing. This is not turning out the way I hoped.
“A scientist, eh? And what do we need another scientist for? Listen, only those who can contribute to survival are allowed in. Right now, we only need miners and doctors. Oh yeah, and a veterinarian would be nice. So tell me, are you a veterinarian?” He smirks at me when I refuse to answer.
“Yeah, I figured. So why don’t you go research something, eh? Go back to where you came from and see if your science does you any good.” So this is how it is. I make one last effort. I wasn’t planning on telling anyone but the senator about what kind of scientist I am, but I don’t see any other options.
“I used to work in nuclear weapons development,” I say. The man cocks his head and motions for me to go on.
“I know how to make them.” I stop talking when I notice his reaction. There’s no sign of his smirk anymore, and he slowly shakes his head.
“First of all, we’ve got no nukes here. Second, what the hell do we want nukes for anyhow?” I notice his lips turning tighter, and a hint of anger in his voice.
“The world has gone to hell, and you come here, saying you know how to make nukes? You think that’s what we need? More destruction?” He approaches Nathan.
“Get this scumbag out of my face, right now. I don’t want to see him again. Ever.” Nathan acknowledges and grabs my arm to take me away. I turn away from the gate and take a step away from salvation. Well, I kind of expected it. I’m no use to them right now, and what comes ten years from now is of no concern. These guys have no thought for anything beyond the short term. How to put food on the table tomorrow. How to keep a loved one from dying from a common cold. How to keep the cows healthy and the horses fresh.
Horses!
I whirl around, and find the woman still staring at me.
“You!” I say. “I remember you! You were with a man, and you had a horse. He said you were just doing your job. Now please, do yours. I made it this far, didn’t I? I deserve the chance to speak to the senator!” She seems to consider it for a moment, and the man who wants to turn me away waits for her reply. So does Nathan. I suddenly realize she’s the one in charge, not the man. They are waiting for her orders.
“I remember you, too,” she finally says. “That doesn’t mean we should let you in though. So you’re a nuclear scientist. Do you know anything about nuclear power, or is it just the weapons?” My mind races, searching for a way to explain this.
“Well, I do know the theory. And given time… You’d need electricians, physicists, builders…. I don’t know. I would probably stand a better chance at making it work than a veterinarian,” I say. She gives Nathan a curt nod.
“Take this man to the senator. This is his call,” she says. Nathan pats me on the back, while the other man grumbles, but obeys and opens the gate.
7.
Once inside the fence, Nathan and the two guys who’d been quiet all along take me behind the buried vehicle, where another vehicle is parked. Nathan takes the driver’s seat, and I’m placed in the back with one guard on either side. Then we drive for half an hour, passing through several checkpoints, and various fortifications, before finally entering a valley. There are several cabins around, some look new while others are similar to Glenda’s: old and run down, but obviously fixed up in recent years. Nathan turns onto a road that leads up toward a hill where a mansion dominates. That must be it. I realize I’m about to meet the man who organized all this, who’s creating a future for hundreds, probably thousands of people. I wonder what kind of man he is, and how he will receive me.
The woman at the gate must have notified the local guards we’re coming, because when we arrive, they usher me inside, and I am sent through a door, alone, into a room with nothing but a desk, a few file cabinets, a couple of chairs, and a couch. I carefully sit down on one of the chairs, fully aware that I must stink. This place is clean and smells of old books and leather and coffee. Oh my God, I would kill for a cup of coffee!
“No one told me your name,” a man says as he enters the room. He lays a file folder on the desk and extends his hand.
“I’m Joe Buchanan. Formerly a senator, but I guess we both know there’s no senate anymore.” I reflexively jump from the chair and shake his hand. He’s got a firm grip.
“Edward Walker. Everybody calls me Ed,” I say, voice shaking just a little.
“So, Ed… You don’t have to answer why you came here. We both know the answer to that, as we both know the chances for survival out there. Well, you probably know a whole lot more about it than I do,” he says, as he sits down behind his desk, folding his hands, looking straight at me above his reading glasses. I consider my answer while noticing that he looks tired. He must be as old as Glenda, if not older, and building and running this place must have taken its toll.
“Ahem, You might have heard that I used to work in…” he interrupts me, waving his hand slightly.
“Yes, yes, nuclear weapons development, I know. And you might be able to help out once —if —we ever get to restoring the energy supply needed for the long term, in theory that is.” He takes off his glasses, and closes his eyes.
“But, Ed, I need to hear why you think any of that would be of any use to us. We are turning people away. Men, women, and children. Must be awful being out there on the gate, condemning people to certain death. Can you imagine?” I cannot imagine how that must be, but I guess I understand why that man at the gate got so angry. However, I do know the fate of those turned away. And that is why it is so important that I become part of this community. I speak carefully.
“I know what you must be thinking. Why not save another child, instead of this man? Why not allow another doctor, who cures people…. Whereas my profession… Well, I can imagine what you must be thinking.” I cough lightly, before I continue.
“But imagine ten years from now. How many could you save if you had nuclear power? And twenty or thirty years from now. How large an area could you have made habitable with the increase of population that will give you? And what if… Just imagine, a hundred years from now, what if someone else survived impact day, and built another community. It might be a thousand kilometers away, and of no significance to you right now. But in a hundred years, make no mistake, all that will change. Only…That community, a thousand kilometers away might have taken a very different course. Totalitarian, power hungry, sinister, paranoid. That other community might consider your by-then prosperous community a threat, and decide to eliminate that threat. Then where would you stand? Are you certain your brave men and women could fight them off, when your existence depended on it? Or would that other community prove to be stronger, and annihilate everything you’ve built, everything you dreamed of?” I pause to let it sink in, before pressing on.
“What if you, today, let a nuclear scientist through the gates? In time, that man might teach others, and they again would teach a new generation. Given time, and careful development, your situation when that other community strikes, might be completely different.” I pause again. He knows where I’m heading. Now I just have to help him along.
“Senator, you’re building a future here. A new beginning. This world has been turned into a wasteland, and what you’re doing is admirable. Now, let me help you make sure your work will not be in vain. Who knows what the future holds? All I know is that this — all that you are building here — is something good. Something worth protecting. So please, let me help you protect it.” I wait. I see the conflicting thoughts plain on his face. The thought of bringing nuclear weapons into the world again. The possibility that everything might one day prove to be in vain, once someone stronger and more ruthless comes along. Even the possibility that someone else, somewhere, might let someone like me in, if this community doesn’t. The long-term implications of decisions made today. Finally, a quick nod, and the senator rises from his chair, walking briskly around his desk again. Then, once again, he extends his hand.
“All right, Ed. You’ve convinced me. Welcome on board.” We shake hands, and he leaves the room, closing the door behind him before I get a chance to say anything. I slump down onto the couch. I’ve made it. Safe, at last. I realize the man I’ve just been talking to is one of the most impressive figures I’ve ever met, and there and then I make a promise. I want this place to survive the long winter. I want the senator's legacy to continue long after he's gone. And if I can make a difference, then by God, I will do whatever it takes to protect it.
“Thank you.” I whisper to the closed door. A tear runs down my cheek, as emotions locked away for so long are finally coming back to me.
“Thank you.”
Dear reader.
In the new world of publishing, word of mouth may be the most important factor in a story finding its readers. If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a review. It doesn't matte
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About the author:
Andreas Christensen is a Norwegian writer who writes primarily science fiction and fantasy.
He has a degree in Psychology from the Norwegian University of Science and Technology, and his professional background is mainly from public service.
When he's not writing he's probably spending time with Siri and Jonas, or working (writing is not work, it's a whole bag of fun, sitting in front of the computer and making stuff up!)
Andreas has a weakness for cats, coffee and up untill recently, books so heavy he'd need a separate suitcase in order to carry them every time he travelled. Luckily, the world has changed, and the suitcase has now been replaced by an e-reader.
More from Andreas Christensen:
Website: http://www.christensenwriting.com
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Alive Page 3
