by S A Ison
But the Russians had indicated that POSEIDON was planned for underwater detonation off the coast. He hoped that, if they were dead, they hadn’t known what had hit them. That was all anyone could hope for in that scenario. It was the rest of them that would suffer, be it from food deprivation, starvation, disease, radiation exposure or whatever else befell them.
He placed the heavy plastic shielding mask over his face, the type used for spraying foam insulation. It had been the easiest to acquire and had a filtered respirator. He went to the door. He felt like he was suffocating with all the heavy gear on, but he was afraid to go outside without it. He turned on both Geiger counters and heard their soft clicking.
He tried to breathe normally so as to not steam up the visor of his mask. Margo pulled back the heavy plastic sheeting and he ducked beneath it and went outside. He stepped out and looked around. He’d been almost afraid everything would be on fire or somehow glowing, but it all looked normal, unchanged. Some ducks were even swimming past on the lake.
His breaths slowed and he looked down at the old Geiger counter. It was clicking softly, but showed no change. Then he looked at the new one. Nothing registered on that one either. He double-checked both to ensure that they were working. No high rate of clicks on the old one. That’s good.
Pike started walking toward the water, waving the Geiger counters around. Still nothing.
After exploring the immediate surrounds of the cabin, he returned to the house and tapped gently on the door. Margo opened it for him and he ducked under the plastic. He smiled when he saw her face, and she relaxed a bit.
“It is all clear out there, like nothing happened.” He grinned and showed her the new Geiger counter.
“Are you sure they work?” Margo said, looking at both machines.
“I hope they do,” he said as he began to discard his rain gear, “but I’m thinking that we keep checking. Stay mostly indoors for the next two weeks if we can stand it. Keep taking our potassium iodide tablets and see how it goes. If all goes well, Sayer and Joy should be here in about an hour or so. It’s already been an hour since we lost power. If they were home, they’d have loaded up and headed this way.”
Margo took the rain gear from him and put it away in the closet, then put the Geiger counters back in the equipment room. She turned, “What if their truck doesn’t work? Or they have trouble getting here?”
“I guess they’ll get here when they get here. Sayer and Joy both know how to use their weapons. If they aren’t here by later this evening, then that means they’re coming on foot. They have their bugout bags. I think they should be okay.”
Having the plastic up made the cabin darker than usual, and so Pike turned on a couple lamps. He was glad they’d acquired LED lightbulbs, as they used far less energy and were bright enough to dispel the gloom. It also helped to dispel the fear that was snapping around his ankles like a fog on a dark night.
“Everything outside looks and feels normal. It might take people time to figure out what’s going on,” he said.
Margo had begun to make dinner, and as she worked, he noticed her hands were trembling. He walked up behind her, wrapped his arms around her and hugged her to him. He kissed her head. “We’re okay. Everything has changed, but for now and for us, nothing has changed. We now waste less, conserve more, and keep going like we have been. Except, we don’t have to go to work. And we keep our weapons on us every moment of every day.” He chuckled, but then felt her body shake.
She turned into him, crying. “I don’t know why I’m so afraid, but I am. Just knowing so many are already dead. Knowing that our very country has been destroyed. I didn’t think I would feel so afraid, but I am.”
“I’m afraid too. But we have each other, we have our weapons, and when Sayer and Joy get here, we will have our friends. We’re ahead of the game, Margo, and if we’re careful, we will survive.”
He felt her nod, and released her. She looked up into his eyes, her own shining a pale green with tears. He bent and kissed her nose, and she laughed shakily.
He watched as she turned back to the stove, then he walked over to the couch and sat down. Binx cried, and he patted the couch beside him. The dog placed his small head in Pike’s lap and he sat there, petting the animal. He knew Binx had sensed the vibrations, could probably still feel them. It must have been an unbelievable explosion to still have the shockwaves traveling underground all the way from the East Coast or West Coast, or worse, both.
“What’s for dinner?” he asked, trying to sound normal.
“I’m making fried rice. We had rice left over from yesterday, so I figured I’d use it. Also, I had picked some green onions from the garden this morning. They aren’t big, but they are nice,” Margo said, looking over her shoulder at him. She smiled at him and he winked back.
He looked at the old-fashioned clock on the wall. It was now nearing eight. He hoped Sayer and Joy were on their way.
Topeka, Kansas, 12 April 2019
Dalton and Peggy walked first along the sidewalk and then down the road. He kept his arm around her, and had whispered for her to just keep looking ahead. Some people behind them were yelling, all talking at once. It was a long walk to her home and it would take them all night, but he figured he had a head start on all those who were still standing around.
Ahead, some people were walking their way. “Pretend you don’t know what they’re talking about if they ask you anything. Just tell them we’re out for a walk. If they ask about our phones, we don’t have them.” He felt rather than saw her nod.
As they passed, he nodded to them. One man stopped. “Hey, you guys know what happened? Our car just stopped. There’re a bunch of cars back there and none of them work.” His face bright red in the fading light.
Dalton made a frown. “No, not sure. We’re just out for an evening walk. Maybe someone in town can help you.” He made to walk on when the man reached out and grabbed his arm. Dalton froze and looked at him, his face carefully blank.
“Say, can I use your phone? Mine isn’t working.” The man was smiling, but looked frustrated.
Dalton pulled his arm away gently. “Sorry, we left our phones at home. Like I said, maybe someone from town can help.” He took care to keep his voice soft and modulated, calm. He nodded and began to walk Peggy around the man. The man didn’t say anything else and Dalton let out a breath when they got farther away.
“How did you know, Dalton? How did you know he’d ask us?” Peggy asked, wonder and surprise on her face.
“It’s what I would ask. It’s what I’d think about if I didn’t know what was going on. Right now, folks are just confused. But later they’re going to get scared, and when people are scared, they get stupid. Stupid people are dangerous.” He looked back briefly, then turned forward again. He made sure to keep their pace steady, their strides long but not hurried.
He knew they had a long way to go, and Peggy would tire quickly. They’d stop by her place first, he figured about three hours, then head to his family’s farm. He was glad he had grabbed the water bottles and food out of his car. The tire iron had become warm against his leg. He’d hooked it through his beltloop.
The preacher man came to mind again, sending a shiver through him. He recalled what the man had mouthed to him that day he was going to the hospital. Run for your life. The hair on his arms and neck rose. He was, in fact, now running for his life. He had an overwhelming need to get home and get a weapon, a real weapon. He knew his family kept guns on the farm, be they for shooting coyotes or putting down animals.
What he didn’t know was if they had more than just shotguns. He hoped one of his brothers had an AR15, a Glock, or something with power. He knew people would show up, and after a while they’d stop taking no for an answer. Then the violence would begin.
He looked down at Peggy’s feet and let out a breath. She was wearing boots, not heels. Thank God for small mercies. She’d have been crippled by the time they got to her apartment if it’d been heels. Or h
e’d have needed to carry her.
“Do you have a gun at the apartment?” Dalton asked quietly.
“I got my daddy’s old .38, but it only has four bullets. I don’t have any more than that,” she said just as quietly. He saw her look nervously around them.
“Good. We can at least have something to use to protect ourselves if we have to,” he said.
“You really think it will come to that? The power just went out, for goodness sakes. It hasn’t even been an hour.” She shook her head.
Dalton looked over at her, but didn’t say a word. She’d just have to see for herself. It was hard for people to comprehend just how panicked humans got when their live were threatened. As they walked, it got darker, but there was still just enough light to see their way. They passed countless people and answered the same way each time they were asked. We don’t know, we don’t have our phones, we’re just out for a walk.
Near eleven, Dalton guessed, they got to Peggy’s apartment. They climbed the stairs quietly, though there were a few people sitting outside, having left their doors open. They walked to her apartment door and she unlocked it.
Stepping into the darkness, Dalton turned on his flashlight.
“Dalton, I’m just going to stay here,” Peggy said quietly.
“What? Are you crazy? You aren’t safe here! In a day or two, people are going to break down your door,” he said, his voice low and harsh.
“I’m not crazy, and I have my daddy’s gun. Your family doesn’t like me, and I really don’t want to go and stay with them.” She wrinkled her nose, threw her purse down on the couch and sat down, her mouth turning down in the stubborn slant he knew so well.
He brought his hands up to his head, and grabbed his hair and pulled. He was trying to stay calm. Anger wouldn’t help. “Peggy, listen. If you don’t come with me, you will die. Please, come with me. It’s the only safe way.” He dropped his hands to his side.
“I think this is all bull cookies. The power will come back on, and if not, the police or the government will make sure we’re safe. I’m fine here, and if I change my mind I’ll come to the farm. But I don’t want to go and I’m not going.” She folded her arms across her chest, her eyes narrowing in challenge.
Dalton stared down at her, torn between anger at her and fear for her. She had no idea, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t carry her out of here. So he took the tire iron out and squatted down in front of her. “Pegs, you’ll die here. And it won’t be pleasant. I don’t care what my family thinks, please come with me.” His hand covered her knee.
She shoved it off and her brows drew together. “I care what your family thinks. I’m not coming. I’ll be fine. I’ve a few friends. I’ll go stay with them, but I’m tired and I’m not moving another step tonight. Go home, Dalton. Go to your farm. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.”
The pain in Dalton’s gut reminded him of the time his brother had punched him. He couldn’t understand why she was acting like this. He looked around, then looked back at her. “Can I have one bottle of water?” he asked. He thought she’d say no, but she reached over and pulled out a bottle. She gave it to him, her mouth a straight line. He’d thought she cared about him, trusted him. Why wouldn’t she come?
He shook his head and stood, then put the tire iron back down his pants. He picked up the bag with the poncho and food and sports drink, then turned and walked to the door.
He put his hand on the knob, then looked back, into the darkened room, holding the flashlight low so as not to blind her. “Make sure you lock the door, and get to your friends as soon as you can. Don’t stay here by yourself, Peggy. My home is waiting if or when you want to come. But Peggy, don’t bring anyone else. They won’t be welcome.”
He heard her suck in her breath and harrumph. “Whatever, Dalton. Just go.”
And Dalton turned and walked out the door. He walked down the steps and around the people sitting there. He didn’t look at them but kept walking. It would take him a couple days to get home. He shook his head again. He really couldn’t figure Peggy out. Why hadn’t she come with him? Hadn’t she believed him? Couldn’t she see with her eyes what was going on? He couldn’t say, but he wasn’t going to beg her to come. He wasn’t going to force her to come. Life was going to get hard and he felt sorry for her, but perhaps, she was one of the stupid ones. Perhaps he was better off without her.
Emerson, NC, 12 April 2019
Harley turned on the windshield wipers. It was starting to rain. He was in Emerson, NC, almost home from being gone three days. He was trying to beat the rain home. He really didn’t like driving in it. The forecast had called for heavy thundershowers.
All at once, his car died. Everything stopped: music, lights, windshield wipers. Then something big hit him from behind and his body slammed into the steering wheel. The airbag didn’t deploy, his brain screamed before he was knocked senseless.
He came to when he heard knocking on his window. He looked up for a moment. A man standing there at the window. He was knocking, but Harley didn’t know why. He tried to focus, but his face hurt so bad. His vision began to turn black around the edges, then went completely dark.
He wasn’t sure what woke him later. It was dark out, rain coming down in torrents. Lightning flashed, the brilliant light sending pain shooting into his brain. His ears rang as though he’d just come from a concert. He unbuckled the seat belt and laid his body across the seat. His face throbbed with each heartbeat. In the brief flash he’d seen the cars around him, stopped. He didn’t understand, but he wasn’t getting out into that driving rain.
He slept fitfully through the night, coming awake whenever he moved his head. I must have broken my nose. Why didn’t the airbag deploy? He fell back to sleep as the rain lessened. He wasn’t sure what woke him, but when he opened his eyes it was somewhat light out. He sat up and immediately regretted it. He tried to open his door, but it wouldn’t open, so he vomited on the passenger’s side floor.
He brought a shaking hand up to his mouth to wipe the foulness off, then reached for his water bottle and took a drink. He nearly heaved it up, but kept swallowing. He swallowed and swallowed. He took another mouthful and swished it around in his mouth, then spat it on the floor.
His head was hurting and his ears were ringing. He turned to the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. He clicked the button, but nothing happened. He thought about hitting it with his weapon, the FN Herstal, but thought better of it. He looked around in the car and saw a wrench on the back floorboard. The kids must have been playing in his tools again. He smiled.
He grabbed it and scooted away from his window. Covered his face, careful of his nose, he shattered the glass with a sharp swing. He took the wrench and raked it across the bottom of the window so he wouldn’t get cut crawling out. He opened the glovebox, pulled out the box of bullets he kept there and put them in his coat pocket.
Taking the weapon from its shoulder holster, he checked it and put it back. He took another drink of water, then crawled out of the window. He nearly stepped on a man lying on the ground next to his car. He put a leg over the body and his foot found the ground. He eased his other leg out, hit the man by accident, and heard a groan.
Squatting down, he turned the man, who groaned again. The man had blood coming out of his ears and eyes. He jerked his hand back. The man’s face was covered with blisters.
Harley looked up and around him. Some of the store fronts around him had broken windows. What the hell happened last night?
Gingerly he stood, his shaky legs barely holding him up. The ringing in his ears and the throbbing in his head made him nauseated. He bent over and vomited again. He gripped his knees as his body spasmed. When he had finished, he stood up. Ahead of him was a woman, and he began walking toward her. His legs felt like jelly and he wanted to call out to her, but when he tried to, his throat hurt like it had been burned raw. When he reached her, he put his hand on her arm to turn her and get her attention. When she turned,
he screamed, a long and soundless scream. The woman’s face was covered with yellow blisters, all filled with liquid. Her eyes were gone, blood trickling out where they had once been.
He staggered backward and fell onto the sidewalk. Landing hard, he vomited over and over between his legs, heavy ropes of saliva hanging from his mouth. His body jerked and tried to vomit more, but there was nothing left. Tears fell down his cheeks and he watched the woman wander off, whimpering.
This had been no earthquake. This was something else. A bomb. Something some other country had done to them. North Korea? He fought to stand, his legs weak. He turned, remembering his bugout bag, but when he saw his car, he realized the back end had been crushed in. There was no way he could get to it. looking around, he spotted a convenience store. He crossed the street.
By the curb lay a woman in a pool of blood and rain water. Bubbles were coming up from around her face, which was submerged in the red pool. He gently tried to turn her over so she wouldn’t drown. But when he tried, the skin and meat of her face stuck to the pavement and he saw her skull underneath. He gagged and laid her back down to drown. He figured he was doing her a favor by letting her die.
He looked at his hands and saw small blisters beginning to develop. His hands went up to his own face, where he felt the beginnings of painful blistering. Radiation sickness. I’ve got radiation sickness. Someone dropped a nuclear bomb. He staggered away from the woman and went in to the convenience store.
Looking around, he saw no one. He went to the drinks section and pulled out several bottles of water. He opened one and felt some of the skin on his fingers give. He looked down and almost screamed. Blood smeared the bottle cap. His fingers looked raw. He pulled out his shirttail and tried again. Finally the bottle opened.
