Somebody made a mistake. Another Cuban Missile Crisis, but with more haste and less thought. The human race finally caught up with itself. It wasn’t recorded, when the opportunity was there, which country, exactly, wasted which area with which nuke, but after a while, the earth had quite a number of holes in it.
Of course, this wasn’t a spontaneous atrocity, so the earth’s denizens were given proper warning beforehand, and a good many went back to the nauseating fad of backyard bomb-shelters.
Alexander and his family lived in theirs for two months before what food they had ran out. The television advised that everybody get one, and that they would give warning when it needed use. Alexander’s family was the only in the neighborhood that bought one of those contraptions, the rest couldn’t take the impending apocalypse as seriously as an impending apocalypse probably should be. The majority of the world’s eyes, though, were glued to their televisions, in trepidation of the god-awful warning that could come at any time. This was hindered in a great portion of the United States when the TV stations’ employees were forewarned and abandoned their posts. The problem was cleared up when soldiers entered all of the television-deprived areas to warn the people. Poor Alexander had to put up with terrifying megaphone admonitions for a week, even in the bomb-shelter.
“This is the hourly warning, find sanctuary immediately, this is not a drill” heard Alexander from his metal barricade. It was 4 AM, but he couldn’t sleep. Neither could the rest of his family. Nor could, almost certainly, the rest of his species. He tried to make a sort of inevitably futile attempt at distracting himself by reading a radiation-safety instruction manual, with a big black radioactivity symbol on the front. “There will be dangerous amounts of radioactivity in a few hundred miles’ circumference around each nuclear blast for a year or more, and, if possible, it is highly recommended to be informed of their locations to prevent dangerous amounts of radioactive exposure,” he read. “That sure puts my mind at ease,” he thought to himself.
The last megaphone doom-preach he heard the next day, and the sound that followed was one of many vehicles leaving the area very quickly. Then, from outside, there was silence. He was too tired to read, but too nervous to sleep. This was a real problem. “I’m hungry, dad,” he said. “What is there to eat?” “Dried peaches. There are a lot.” He opened a box, and took out a handful. He sat down on his cot and began putting them in his mouth, one by one, and then, at long last, fell asleep.
For how long Alexander was out, he did not know, but he was awakened by the first of several far-off bangs, what was finally the horrifying climax to the nearly intolerable wait. “This radiation-safety manual says to wait for further information before leaving the bomb-shelter. We should probably turn the radio on,” he told his family in an interval between the explosions. “This radio looks kind of beat up,” his younger sister, Victoria, observed as she went to turn it on. “I wonder if it’ll even work.” Providentially, it did, though the signal was pretty weak, and a staticky voice emanated out of it. The radio had only updates on where the nukes had hit, and what that would mean for the continuation of life in the United States. Every time a bang was heard from outside, Alexander would make another tally on the concrete wall. His parents and Victoria were discussing what they would be doing after they could get out, but Alexander was more interested in the present. He sat on his cot all day.
“We should listen for the locations of refugee camps or something,” his mother suggested, “It’s unthinkable that no one would try to set some up.” “It’s probably a good idea to listen for where the nukes hit, you know, so we don’t run into a mean patch of uranium,” Alexander added.
The radio went dead for an hour, but came back, with a different announcer. Same staticky stuff. “…An atomic bomb carried by an Intercontinental Ballistic Missile has just been detonated a few miles from Seattle, Washington. Military reports indicate that it came from somewhere in…” or “this will probably lead to a disruption in clean drinking water for most of the southeast United States. Bottled water will be supplied as best it can by…” it went on like that all day. The announcer’s voice signified that he probably couldn’t quite comprehend the world altering news coming out of his mouth; it was much too placid.
Alexander counted the time of intervals between each explosion. They were usually about two or three hours between. At about 12 or 1 AM, there was one last explosion, this one, the loudest by far. A few minutes later, a news update caught Alexander’s ear. “A hydrogen bomb brought by a submarine-launched ballistic missile has been detonated 50 miles north of Philadelphia,” he lived about 30 miles west of there. “Oh, God…” he said out loud, though no one heard him; his family was asleep, surprisingly.
Fortunately, that was the last explosion heard. This wasn’t to say that there weren’t any more nuclear weapons detonating elsewhere, but none close enough to be audible. Alexander’s final tally was 8 explosions that day.
“The UN has declared an emergency mandate that any country firing on any other country after 2:00 AM today, April 25th, will be fired upon by all other countries with nuclear weapons at their disposal. This means that the nuclear war has been mercifully short, and when the chaos is cleared up, the countries with them will begin serious discussion on the destruction of their nuclear weapons. The number of nuclear weapons detonated is estimated to be in the 40’s, most of them in North America, the rest in eastern and Middle Eastern Asia, Europe, and…”
The war, whatever it’s purpose, was over. And the final blast was the closest, “How fortunate,” Alexander said as he went turned the radio off and go to sleep.
The day after that, Alexander turned the radio back on, first thing. “It’s suggested that, to minimize radiation exposure, those in bomb shelters should stay there for at least a year.” He trembled at the thought of being cooped up in there for a year; even three days was beginning to become unbearable. But then he remembered that there was only enough food and water to last four inhabitants two months. Then he didn’t know how to feel.
That radio was becoming the center of Alexander’s small, dim world. He and his family didn’t converse quite as much, they more interested in what they were going to do once they got out, and he in how he was going to stay sane for two months.
Weeks went by. There wasn’t any news that was of more help than any other news. Alexander made a tally of the days until their food ran out and they would have to depart. “Reports of a relatively resilient illness found in most of the northeast United States have cropped up, it is believed that the radiation from the nuclear weapons have accelerated the mutation rate of certain viruses and bacteria, which makes their symptoms much more difficult to treat.”
After some time, nearing the end of the rations, the radio went dead again. The static took over the voice, and it didn’t change. Alexander’s thoughts finally turned to what he was going to do after he got out. Keep his genes in the right sequence, make sure not to get too near people with a sickly pallor, look for food with as little strontium-90 in it as possible; it should make for an entertaining lifetime.
The time finally came when the last of the dried peaches and canned mushrooms were eaten by the four of them in their little hole. “Two months,” Alexander said. “I can’t wait to get blinded by the sun again.” “Alex,” his mother said, “the radio said to stay in for a year, we can find more food,” “And water, mom, by staying in here?” “Yes, there’ll probably be some aid coming in and giving us supplies, don’t worry.” “I’d rather rely on myself, instead of some uncertain aid, if it’s all the same to you,” Alexander said as he walked up the stairs. “Where are you going?” His father said. “I’m finding food, and if you want to starve in this hole, you’re welcome to, but I don’t, and you aren’t going to force me to die with you.” “You come back here right now! We will not let you back in if you leave!” His father screamed, seeming not to know what he was saying. Alexander opened the hatch and got out, and closed it again, running from the bomb-shelter in case his family tried to retrieve him. They didn’t.
Alexander looked at his watch. It said 11:35 AM. He looked at the sky. It was much darker than 11:35 AM should be. It was much too cold for being almost July, too. He walked into his house through the back door. It wasn’t locked. He went through the closet, and picked out a heavy gray coat. He also picked up a butcher knife, being alone in a most likely unsafe new world.
There wasn’t anyone outside. Alexander decided that their bomb-shelters had either enough food to last the whole year or they were dead. He was surprised that he didn’t feel much different, even after what was most likely the apocalypse, and after he abandoned his radiation-fearing family because of his starvation-fearing tendencies. He sat down on the curb and thought about his situation, which he chalked up to simple denial.
Alexander began walking towards a convenience store a few miles away. He didn’t have any money, but he didn’t count on anyone being in there, either. He got to what looked like a deserted strip mall after about an hour. A lot of the stores he walked by were looted, their windows broken, their doors hanging open. There was a man lying on the ground by one of the empty, broken stores. Alexander walked past him at a distance of about ten feet. All he could hear was his own footsteps. As it turns out, they were all the man on the ground could hear as well.
“Hey!” the man hopped up quickly and walked towards Alexander. His eyes looked irritated. “I haven’t seen another person for days!” The man said as he approached Alexander, who had pulled his butcher knife from his belt and brandished it at the peculiar stranger. “Sorry for my excitement, sir,” the man said, and stopped advancing towards him. “Like I said, I haven’t seen anybody in days. I’m just kind of puzzled as to where all the people are. Well, the people who aren’t busy in hell, I mean. I guess at least one of them is walking around threatening folks with a knife. Nice to meet you, I’m James.” He said, without putting his hand out. The butcher knife taught him not to try and touch the frightened kid. “I’m Alexander,” he said, putting his knife back in his belt. “What were you doing on the ground?” He asked. “Long story,” James began, “I never deigned to get a bomb-shelter, didn’t matter, since no nukes got close enough to my house to physically damage it. Well, turns out the thing was close enough to spew hazardous nuclear fallout all over, so some soldiers in scary-looking suits made the neighborhood leave the neighborhood.”
“Did you get any radiation poisoning or anything, James?” “It’s too early to tell. I hope to God not, though. Do you have any idea how terrible that is?” Alexander pulled his radiation-safety instruction manual out of his pocket and waved it at James. “Guess that saves some time, then. Well, anyway, since it was the end of society and, perhaps, life on earth, we decided to break some laws, in the form of looting these fine establishments here,” he said, pointing to his and his neighbors’ handiwork. “Your neighborhood seems pretty rowdy.” Alexander observed. “Well, a bunch of MP’s came in and tear-gassed us all, took as many as they could to prison.” “Well, that explains your eyes. How’d you manage to escape?” “It wasn’t escape as much as cowardly hiding. I heard them coming and hid in the back of some store with a couple other people, but they gassed a bunch of them out. I stayed in a closet in the way back. I stayed there a while, until I made sure no one was searching the individual stores, and then, after maybe a day, I didn’t hear anybody, so I went outside, and the place was deserted. I didn’t want to go too far, because there is free food and other necessities here. I waited outside in case someone wandered by. I guess that was smart.” “Yeah,” Alexander said. “That’s some story. Do you have any idea where your neighbors are?” “Probably miles away, in some maximum-security post-apocalypse prison or something. I wouldn’t waste my worry on them. What’s your deal, anyway?” “Well, I hid in my family’s bomb shelter for two months, but the food ran out, so I, against their wishes, left to look for food. I don’t think I’m going back.” “Won’t you miss them?” “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” “That’s some story,” James said. “Hah. Why don’t we look for food and other people to pass the time?” Alexander suggested. “This one’s window isn’t broken, maybe the looters overlooked it,” James said as he pointed to a relatively untouched but still abandoned store.
They entered. Surprisingly, the lock wasn’t intact. “Fill your stomach, then your pockets, because I don’t know where we’re going, and I don’t know when we’ll get this chance again,” James ordered, “That’s wise.” There was a wide selection of candy, but no actual food, as is customary at convenience stores. Alexander took a can of Coke and a plethora of chocolate products. James took similar goods, and hopped over the counter. He emptied a whole rack, about 10 packs, of Newports into a waiting plastic bag. “Jesus Christ,” Alexander observed, “You know, James, there’s an easier way to get cancer these days.” “But what about emphysema, Alex? Nuclear war doesn’t make everything easier, you know.”
“I forgot what food that wasn’t subterranean dried peaches tasted like. This is great,” Alexander said with some relief, “Well, culinarily speaking, anyway.” “Yeah,” James agreed. “You know, Alexander, I thought I was the only one who wasn’t taking this cataclysm as seriously as one would imagine, but you aren’t either,” “And look where it’s gotten us. We’re alive,” Alexander said. “Yeah, contemplating the dangers of the apocalypse is a real deathtrap,” James replied. “Looks like it is.”
They left. “Where should we go?” James asked. “Well, the radio said that a hydrogen bomb hit about 50 miles north of Philadelphia, so, probably not there,” Alexander decided. “I bet Philadelphia would have a lot of people, though.” “How many people should we allow to join our coterie?” James wondered. “However many we find, I guess.” “But then we’ll have more mouths to feed.” “But we’ll have more people to find food, too. And more protection, in case of danger or something.” “I guess that’s good, then.” James decided.
“So, Philadelphia, then?” Alexander asked. “Sure,” James replied, “but not much north of there. I think I’d like my kids to have only one head.” “One more little thing, before we go,” Alexander began. “Which way’s northeast?” There was a pause, and two puzzled faces, “This might prove a quandary,” James answered. “Well, actually, I think my watch might have a compass,” he said. He looked for a moment, and pointed in an arbitrary direction. “That way,” he said. “Your watch points north no matter where you turn.” Alexander observed. “This might prove a quandary,” James answered. “Aimless wandering never hurt anyone. Let’s just do that until we can find a more directional soul.” Alexander advised. “Let’s go where I pointed, just for kicks.” That’s what they did.
Turns out they were going north. The two of them followed the highway until there was a roadblock. Several fearsome looking rubber body-suited soldiers with large weapons were standing around, some in vehicles. “Excuse me, you can’t go any further, there are high levels of beta rays in the area, and it’s being cleaned up as best it can. My personal suggestion is to get out of here as fast as you can or find yourselves a couple of these voguish rubber suits, but until you find one, you can’t go any further, sorry.” The sentry told the two. “Can you tell us where we can find some more people?” James asked, pleadingly. “Well, you definitely can’t find any more here, we haven’t seen anybody come around for weeks. Even the radio that we got our commands from went dead a few days ago, I don’t even know why we’re still here. Giving a home to some tumors, I guess.” “I’m getting a little sick of these radiation jokes.” James whispered to Alexander, who nodded at him. “I’m making jokes because I’m scared,” The soldier began. “I don’t know what’s going to become of the world, I don’t know when we’re going to get out of this godforsaken place, and I’m bored to the point of disability. We’ve been in the same square chain for more than two weeks, and we haven’t gotten any news for days. Our radio went dead, you remember. Don’t take my fading humor away.” “I think I like you,” James said.
The sentinel got an idea, “Wait here,” she said, and approached her companions. “You know, guys” she said, “We’ve been here, with no news, and no orders, for days. I think it’s safe to disperse.” “What if the radio turns on again, and we’re ordered to stay put or else?” One of them asked. “What’s the worst that could happen? How could they find us, and if they did, what would they do? Throw us out of the Military Police? They’re having enough trouble clinging onto existence as it is. I’m outta here, and I suggest you follow my example.”
With no other words, she walked back to James and Alexander. “Let’s go,” she said. They began walking back to where they came from.
“My name’s Ashley,” the MP said while they walked back. “I got sent here once that H-bomb hit so near Philadelphia. That’s it, really.” “Interesting life you lead, Ashley,” James said. “My name’s James, and this is my cohort, Alexander.” “Where’re you two headed?” Ashley asked. “To tell you the truth,” Alexander told her, “We have no idea, we’re walking back to where we started. I guess we shouldn’t go where you told us not to, even if it’s not guarded,” “Just because it’s not guarded doesn’t mean it’s not radioactive,” Ashley said. “Great point,” James mentioned, “But we really need to figure out where the hell we’re going to go. As the army lady that you are, do you have any knowledge of some sort of safety complex, or something along those lines?” “Well, actually, I think there’s something like that in…” Ashley paused for a moment. “Where?” Alexander inquired. “Um… Maine.” She said weakly. “That’ll be a merry little trek, won’t it?” Alexander decided. “What exactly is it?” James asked. “Well, in words other than ‘some sort of safety complex,’ it’s a building that’s pretty far away from any of those rays and diseases that could, you know, kill somebody, and there’s food and clothing and lodging and all of that crap for the leftovers of the apocalypse.” “Well put, Ashley. Do you know it’s exact location?” Alexander asked. “Well, no, I don’t, but I do know it’s in Maine, which is north of here, so we could at least get closer to it in the meantime. Thing is, Philadelphia is north of here too. We’re going to either have to make a long, long detour, find some more nifty radiation suits, or try our luck with four simultaneous cancers.” Ashley explained. “Do we have any sort of time limit?” James asked, mostly rhetorically. “We don’t really have to worry about our jobs, or school or anything. My vote is to go around the impact site. We might find some more people, too. We can always use some more people.” The other two agreed.
Ashley, realizing her need for the cumbersome, if light, suit had passed, peeled it off and left it on the highway, where it irradiated everything in it’s vicinity. “You don’t think I need this giant rifle, do you?” She asked the fellows, hoping the answer was “no.” “Well, weapons are always useful, especially since we don’t know what liers-in-wait could be about. I have a butcher knife, but James doesn’t have anything, so if you don’t want to carry it, as I’m sure you have been for hours straight, James could take it, if that’s okay with him,” “I’d love to be a little more likely to kill somebody,” James opined. Ashley handed it to him. “How much ammunition do you have?” He asked. “I don’t think much. That was most unwise, since there was a relatively infinite supply of the stuff back at our station.” Ashley detached the clip, look inside, and checked her pockets for more ammunition. “Well, the grand total is two clips for the rifle and nine loose shells, that’s forty-nine in total. So, I guess unless we’re attacked by the entire American Mutant Association, we’ll be fine.”
James seemed to know how to work the shooting apparatus as well as anyone, even though it seemed like something you’d have to train to use. Perhaps he was a hunter. The others gave it little thought.
Night fell. The three were exhausted, having walked for miles that day. “We should probably go to sleep. Let’s just remember which way we’re going,” Alexander said. “I could point the gun towards where we’re going,” James suggested. It was a good idea, and he did it. “It’s really cold,” Ashley observed. “And it’s July. Well, I guess that’s our punishment for suffering so much.” “Not to mention the countless other scourges we’re going to be plagued with daily for a hell of a long time,” Alexander added. As if it were cold enough during the day, it was colder, much colder, at night. “Well, maybe it’ll warm up, you know how nuclear weather is,” Ashley said. “Yeah, cold.” James answered. The three of them were much too tired to care about comfort, and they just sat down next to the concrete divider and fell asleep next to each other.
Alexander woke first, it was still dark, but it was daytime. It started to snow. “I just love nuclear winter, it just transcends normal seasons,” he said, and went back to sleep. The three of them woke a few hours later, and snow had piled on top of them. “Hey, where’s the rifle?” James asked. “It must have gone under the snow.” He started digging through it, but then he saw a hole where he was sure he put the weapon. “I think somebody stole it,” he told the others. “Kind of worries me that somebody walked by us when we were sleeping and took our gun, but none of us are dead, so I guess there’s no harm done.”
“Excuse me, you three,” a voice from the other side of the concrete divider said. They turned around. There was a man in a black coat with Ashley’s rifle. “But I’m a mite hungry, and if you don’t share your food, I’m going to have to take it by force. The force of pulling a trigger, anyway,” he continued. “You know, you could just ask us, you don’t need to threaten us with death,” Ashley said. “Well, just being safe. So, how about that food?” “Give me the gun and we’ll give you food. Don’t think we won’t give you any, we have a lot, and I feel charitable.” James told him. “I don’t think that’s going to happen. See, this is my gun now, and I want some food, and I’ll get it no matter what, so if you want to escape with your lives, I suggest you accept escaping without your gun.” “And without some of our food. A little steep, don’t you think?” James asked. “As a general rule, it’s futile to try and reason with robbers. So, how about giving me your food now or I kill you and take it now?”
That’s when things got messy. No one moved, fearing that he would kill them for kicks, until Alexander reached down to his waist, as if searching for food. He, in one movement, unsheathed his butcher knife and made it meet the top of the concrete divider, going through several of the robbers fingers to get there. The man howled in pain, dropped the gun and stared deliriously at his hand with the bloody deluge. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he did the first thing that came to mind; he plunged his hand into the snow. Alexander picked the rifle up and handed it to James. They left the man there to worry about his mutilation by himself.
“That was some impulsive working, Alex,” Ashley told him. “And to think, if I were any slower, our heads could have taken resemblance to sponges!” “Try not to do that again, we don’t need to risk another porous death. Let’s just give people food whether they’re asking us to or forcing us to.” James advised.
They continued on, and the snow became heavier. Soon, the three travelers had to make camp on the highway as best they could before going on. Ashley made a few footprints to tell them which way they were going. They dug a hole in the snow down to the asphalt on the side of the road, and they piled the excavated snow around the hole. “I’m still a little paranoid from our encounter with Mr. Eight Fingers, so I’ll look out for anybody, and I’ll keep the gun ready,” James planned to the other two. “Why don’t you make a gun-hole in the side of the snow to make a little turret?” Ashley suggested. “Because our enemies’ bullets can easily go through snow, so I might as well just shoot over the top,” James rationalized. “That’s a great point, James,” Ashley said.
The three stayed there until nightfall, when Alexander and Ashley went to sleep. James stayed up, watching for more scoundrels that would attempt to rob them. After a few hours of bleary vigilance, a large plow with chains on its wheels passed slowly by the direction they were headed, coincidentally. “Hey!” James shouted at the thing. He kicked Ashley and Alex lightly, waking them from a sound sleep, and hopped over their icy barricade. “Stop!” He yelled again at the vehicle, which did not obey. He sprinted towards the plow as quickly as a groggy, worn out 30-something could, and he managed to get a few yards in front of it. Only one headlight was sputtering on and off, the other one had been dented into Hell. It didn’t look like the plow would stop, and James kept in front of it. Finally, James shot a rifle round into the air. The great thunderous blast and the blinding flash of light in the near-dawn halted the truck.
A young man with a pistol got out. He pointed it at James. “Do you want trouble, Mr.?” “No, I’m sorry if I seemed threatening, I just wanted to get your attention, it wasn’t a hostile shot, I swear, we just haven’t seen anyone else for a long time, and I think the larger our group, the better our chances at not becoming worm food.” “What do you mean, ‘we’?” the man said as he holstered his pistol in his belt. “I only see one of you,” “I have two companions, their names are Ashley and Alexander. Oh, and my name’s James,” he said.
“Thanks for warning us so gently, James,” Ashley said sleepily as she and Alex appeared from behind the plow. “What’s going on?” “Well, this plow went by, and I decided to stop it and see who was in it. By the way, what’s your name?” James asked the pistol man. “I’m Frank. I’m with two others, Jacob and Emily. She’s pregnant, so three, if you include her kid. Where’re you headed?” He asked. “Same direction you are, I guess,” Alexander told him. “The long-term goal is to get to Maine, but until then, we’re just trying to find people who aren’t as incompetent at planning as we are. Since you have a vehicle, I think we found our quarry. Well, that is, if we can join you guys.” “Well, sure you can, this thing is huge; its capacity is probably ten people. Don’t ask me why a plow needs ten people in it ever, but that’s what happened, all the same.”
The four outside in the cold entered the comparatively comfortable vehicle, which was furnished with food and what looked like melting snow in glass jugs. “Um, melting snow after a nuclear was isn’t a great idea,” Ashley told the occupants, “There’re horrifying chemicals in natural water these days, and they’ll sit tight for some time. I suggest bottled water,” she finished with her martial professionalism. “What do you know about radiation?” Frank asked her. “Well, I know drinking natural water now won’t do any good for your child, ma’am,” she directed her attention at Emily. “Well, I guess that sounds reasonable, but we don’t have any other water,” Frank said with worry. “That might be a problem,” Alexander observed.
“So, is anyone going to introduce us to these strangers?” Jacob asked. “Oh, right. Sorry,” Frank replied. “This is James, Ashley, and Alexander,” he said, pointing to each one. “And this is Jacob, Emily, and either Allen or Olivia.” He said, pointing to them, and then to Emily’s torso.
Frank then started to drive again. The other five stayed in the back. “Where did you come from?” Ashley asked the others. “We came from Philadelphia, and after it got… you know, we had to look for a way out, since staying there wasn’t an option,” Emily began. “Right, but then when it was quarantined for that skin virus, we had a hell of a time getting out,” Jacob interjected. “Skin virus?” Alexander asked. “Yeah,” Emily said. “I’m no virologist, but I guess the radiation mutated this virus that used to be no harm into a horrifying one that’s basically impossible to cure.” “That sounds pretty grave,” Alexander decided. “What are the symptoms?” he asked. “Well, they’re reasonably gruesome.” Jacob began again. “The virus kills the living skin cells, a process that leaves holes of exposed muscle wherever it’s attacking. Eventually, since the virus is so damn resilient, all of the victim’s skin dies, leaving their entire musculature exposed. You can imagine how easily they could die, even if they’re lying in a hospital bed.” “What, are you a virologist?” James asked in amazement at his knowledge. “That’s right,” Jacob replied. “Fortunately, none of us are afflicted, and hope not ever to be, which is why we’re going the opposite direction.” He finished.
“Where exactly do you plan on going?” Alexander asked them. “We’re not actually sure, but if you have any ideas, we’d be glad to hear them,” Emily said. Ashley replied, “Well, we were going to Maine. I was an MP and I was told that there’s a large building that’s relatively untouched by disease and radioactivity, but I don’t know how far this plow can go.” “Certainly not to Maine,” Frank chimed in. “But it is a smart destination, so I’ll try to get as close as I can before this heap finally gives up. It’s already been through a hell of a lot when we got out of the city.” “Oh, yeah,” James remembered, “How exactly did you get out, being quarantined and everything?” “Well,” Frank said. “We found each other on the road and decided that we didn’t want a pregnant woman to get a deadly skin virus, so when it started to snow, this plow started making its rounds. We followed it for as long as we could, and when the driver got out, Jacob and I robbed him of his keys and sped away. But that’s not the exciting part. We drove south, heading out of the city, and got to a roadblock with some fearsome soldiers with those rubber radiation suits and big guns. I decided that they couldn’t stop a plow, none of them having any vehicles, so I just kept driving. Once they saw that I wasn’t going to stop, they shot the front to hell. It was only by the grace of God that they didn’t hit me, and so too was it that they decided not to give chase.” “Quite a story, Frank.” Ashley said.
“Do you have any food here?” James, sitting shotgun, asked Frank. “Sure do, but only enough for a couple weeks. It’s all dried fruit and jerky. Sweet, sweet non-perishable goods,” Frank said with feigned enthusiasm. James turned around and grinned at Alexander, “Hear that, Alex? Dried fruit for the next couple weeks!” Alexander looked sick at the thought, and scowled at James.
The plow, and all of its inhabitants, finally got back to the shattered strip mall that Alexander and James began their march from. The snow had stopped a few hours before, but there was still a lot on the roads, not enough to be too much of a problem, though, at least not for a plow. “We can pick up some more food and stuff here,” James told Frank. There was a school bus parked arbitrarily in the lot, and it was in bad shape; it looked abandoned. “We could scrounge through that bus,” Frank advised as he got out of the vehicle. “I don’t know,” James said, “It wasn’t there when we were here last, it might belong to somebody.” “Well, I’ll check it with Jacob, if you don’t want to. I don’t see anyone in it, nor do I see anyone in any stores,” Frank said. “Be careful, okay?” Ashley said. The six of them walked towards the strip mall, while Frank and Jacob entered the bus.
Inside the bus, Frank found a revolver on one of the seats. There were spent shells everywhere, and a bullet hole or two in the windshield. “Frank,” Jacob called from the middle of the bus. “What is it?” He replied. “There’re about ten guns back here, and a lot of ammunition, and food, and cigarettes. I don’t think that whoever left this bus here was done with it.” “Do you think it’s a good idea to take this stuff?” Frank asked. “Well, I would, but I don’t know where the owner is, or if this bus really is abandoned.” His uncertainties were answered when a bullet zoomed through a window and into the ceiling.
A few minutes before, the others rummaged through one of the looted stores, looking for anything that wasn’t taken. “I found some a few cans of soda, but some of them are expired,” Emily told the rest. “So take the ones that aren’t,” Ashley said. “Uh… right,” Emily replied.
There was a loud ‘crack’ from outside, and the four of them quickly turned to the broken window. Eight or nine people, most with guns, were running towards the bus. “Jacob’s in there!” Emily said. “And Frank, as a bonus, huh?” James replied. “This is no time to joke, James! Get them out of there!” She screamed. James rolled his eyes, readied his rifle, and aimed at the people from inside the store, in an unplanned and unwise attack. He fired, but missed and hit one of the tires. Four of the people began running towards, and shooting at James and the other three. “Hide!” James commanded. “James, just give that to the trained MP,” Ashley told him. He did quickly, and hid with Alexander and Emily. Ashley shot one of the people in the leg, who dropped, but sat up and still shot. She shot him again, and hit his stomach. He stopped shooting. The other three got closer, and Ashley had an easier time, killing another one soon after the first. The final two entered the store, a man and a woman, both with pistols. Ashley shot the woman in the shoulder from a few feet, and she dropped the gun. The man fired wildly at Ashley, and she plummeted to the ground. Fortunately, the man’s extravagant use of ammunition caused his gun to jam. From behind a shelf Alexander crawled and sliced the back of the man’s neck deeply with his butcher knife. James jumped out and took the rifle from the wounded Ashley. He shot the man and the woman, both crawling on the floor, reaching for their dropped weapons. “Let’s go to the bus, and get Frank and Jacob,” Alexander said. “I will, you and Emily stay with Ashley, try to look for some bandages.”
Meanwhile, on the bus, after the bullet shot through the bus, Jacob and Frank sank immediately to the floor. “Hide behind a seat, quick!” Frank commanded as he pulled his pistol from his belt. Jacob did so, while Frank prepared to take on eight enemies. He then heard a gunshot from within a store, and saw four of the people head towards the fire. Inside, he saw James with a rifle, and felt infinite gratitude. One of the people, a young man, entered the bus, and Frank hid on one of the seats. There was another shot fired into the bus, and Frank mustered up all of his bravery, getting up to find his enemy, who was only a few feet from him. He shot him in the chest, and he fell backwards onto the floor. The other three then entered, and Frank bowed back down. He heard them speak, and ascended again to see one of them picking the revolver up. He shot at them once more, hitting one of them. The other two dashed to the seat they spotted him in. He pointed his pistol at them, but before he could fire, they did.
Jacob was terrified. His companion had been taken down, and he was the only one left on the bus. He was in the back seat, across from the weapons he found. He could think of only one thing to do. He vaulted to the other seat and picked up the first weapon he could lay his hands on, a shotgun. He could hear his foes sprinting towards him, and he pulled the trigger. The gun wasn’t loaded. This is when Jacob lobbed it at the two folks and kicked down the back door, jumped out, and ran towards a store that he saw James running out of. James grabbed his arm on his way to the bus. “Ashley’s hurt, go in and help her,” he said very quickly, and then ran towards the bus as Jacob ran towards the store. The two foes hopped out of the kicked-open back door, and James shot one of them as he was jumping. The other sprinted as fast as she could directly towards him with a large handgun, and she shot at him, but missed. James shot at her and hit her in the stomach. She fell down, but slid a few feet before stopping, since she was running so swiftly.
James entered the bus with great caution and looked around. There were bullet holes and cadavers everywhere. He saw Frank’s, still holding onto his pistol, and moved on. He saw the woman Frank hit, but didn’t successful kill. She was unarmed.
“Why did you shoot at us?” James said, pointing the rifle at her chest, which had already been shot. “You were robbing out bus. What could we do? I guess I’m the last alive, so you can go ahead and take it, we won’t need it in hell.” “You know, lady, it isn’t that I’m not sorry that my group killed you all for trying to protect your own belongings, but you really shouldn’t have been so eager to protect it with such violence.” “Oh, thanks, Mr., that’s a lesson I’ll take to heart, or, at least, I would take it to heart if a piece of burning lead hadn’t already taken up residence there.” “Sorry, I’m just telling you what you shouldn’t have done.” James futilely rationalized with the surprisingly lucid dying woman. James began to speak again, but he was interrupted by a bloody coughing fit suffered by the woman. She stopped coughing, and then stopped doing anything, really. James got off the bus, unsure how to feel.
He re-entered the store. “How’s Ashley doing?” He asked the rest. Jacob answered him, “She has three bullet wounds; we managed to get one out of her shoulder and stop the bleeding, but there are still two more in her arms.” “Well, Frank is dead, if Jacob didn’t tell you,” “He told us,” Emily said glumly. “Hm… I’m going to go bring over the plow and look through the bus for more supplies,” James told them. “I’ll come with you,” Alexander suggested. “Okay, you look through the bus, and I’ll get the plow and meet you in there.” “There are a lot of guns and ammunition and cigarettes and food in the back of the bus, Alex,” Jacob informed him.
James got in the plow while Alexander checked the food’s expiration date and the ammunition supply. Some of the guns were fully loaded, some, partially, and others not at all, which was the case of a shotgun he found on the floor in the middle of the bus.
James drove up to the back door, and Alexander got out of the bus to ask him to help him with the supplies. “You think Ashley’s going to be okay?” James asked Alexander as they were moving the supplies from the back of the bus to the back of the plow. “I think so, none of the bullets went into any vital organs, but she might not be able to bless us with that killer accuracy of hers for a while,” Alexander replied.
James took a cigarette from the new cache, and then they began to walk back to the store. “How’s Ashley?” Alexander asked. “We got another one out,” Emily said. “What we’re afraid of is the blood loss,” she continued. The loss of blood was obvious, being all over the floor, and soaking through the clothes she was lying on. “We do have all the time in the world to stay here and wait for Ashley to recuperate, though, so there’s probably no rush.” James said. “Well, I don’t know about that,” Jacob contested. “I thought I saw that a few of those people in the bus had some missing skin. They might have had that skin virus. If we stay here too long, our risks for getting it would only increase.” “Why didn’t you tell me or Alexander?” James asked angrily. “We went inside of the bus!” “I thought it would be worth the supplies,” “Oh, a bunch of guns and cigarettes are worth two human lives?” James asked, this time a little more angry. “Everybody calm down,” Emily said. “Jacob was in the bus too, he has just as much of a chance as either of you two.” “I guess you’re right,” James said. “But how contagious is it, Jacob?” Alexander asked. “How is it spread?” “Well, that I’m not too sure of,” Jacob replied. “I don’t think it’s airborne, because neither Emily, Frank, nor I got it, even though there were legions of the afflicted in Philadelphia. A lot of the patients in my hospital that got it had open wounds from something else, though.” The four of them looked at Ashley with concern. Jacob went back to trying to get the other bullet out of her arm.
In a few hours, using only a knife, Jacob finally succeeded in pulling out Ashley’s final third bullet. “I got them all out,” Jacob told the others. “We should probably get back into the plow.” Jacob and Alexander carried Ashley to the back of the plow, where they laid her down on the floor. Emily got in back with them, too, and James got into the driver’s seat. He threw the rifle next to all of the other guns.
They began to drive west, starting their journey around Philadelphia and its legions of the infected and irradiated. After a few hours, the plow started running low on gasoline. James pulled into a very dilapidated gas station on the road, with a few derelict cars parked there, and he asked, “Does anyone know how to siphon gas? The plow’s almost out.” No one did. “Nothing will explode if we drill a hole in the side of the tank and catch it in a bucket, right?” Emily asked. “Nothing will explode, because nothing is in the tank. All the gas is underground,” James told her. “Plus, we don’t have a working drill on hand.” “Well, what about a gas can? Are there any cans around that we could just pour into the plow?” She suggested. “Well, let’s look,” Jacob said.
James and Alexander entered the building, and Jacob and Emily stayed with Ashley.
In front of the door there was a dead man. “Hold you nose, Alex,” James commanded as they crossed over the cadaver. The door was locked. A simple blow to the glass with the butt of a rifle gave them instant access. Inside, there was a knocked over shelf, and products strewn all over the floor. “Where do you think it would be? The back room, maybe?” Alexander asked. “Well, we could check,” James said.
They walked around the shelf, and entered the back room. “Hey, I live here!” A strange ragged-looking squatting fellow, sitting on some boxes, yelled at them. “Get that gun away from me!” He said. “Sorry, sir,” James said, “But you can’t be too careful. Say, you haven’t seen any cans of gasoline around, have you?” “I don’t think so,” the man replied. “Well, our plow is out of gas,” “Plow? Where are you going?” “Well, ultimately Maine, but for now we’re just getting as close as we can,” “I’ve been stranded here for weeks!” The man said, almost weeping. “Let me come with you! I’m a good shot, and I’m pretty fast, I won’t be a burden, I promise!” “Okay, I believe you.” James exclaimed. “What’s your name?” he asked the man. “I’m Mark” “I’m not sure I trust him, James,” Alexander said. “We have no idea who he is.” “That’s true, but you pulled a knife on me when we first met, Alex. Your first impressions of people seem kind of warped, no offense, of course,” James replied. “Yeah… Well, okay.” Alexander decided. “You don’t know how to siphon gas, do you?” He asked Mark. “No, sorry. I don’t know how we can get gasoline into your plow.” “So, you’ve probably been everywhere there is to be in here, huh?” James asked him. “You know, you haven’t found any gas cans lying around?” “Well, there might be some behind the station. I was locked in this room, feeding off of Slim Jims and Snapple for weeks, so I don’t know what’s back there, but it’s worth a try,” he said. “Then let’s go,” James said, and they left, careful of the shards of glass all over the ground.
Around back, there was another corpse that seemed popular with the fly population, and cockroaches scurrying here and there. The three jumped at the sight of the cadaver, but they gathered themselves.
“I hope you like roaches, Mark,” Alexander said. “They don’t seem to get quite as vaporized or cancerous as the rest of the planet’s denizens, so we’ll all be mates until the apocalypse blows over,” James observed. “Oh, I wouldn’t say it’s the apocalypse.” Mark opined. “Well, technically, you’re right, since we’re not all dead. But a good fraction of the world is, and civilization got a pretty nasty blow to the head, so that’s what we’re calling it.” “Huh,” Mark replied simply.
They rummaged around in the cardboard boxes in the back, and James, auspiciously, uncovered two cans, with the trademark “X” on the side. “Hey, I found a couple!” He cried. “One of them doesn’t feel full, but there’s probably about half left,” he said, as they approached him. “Let’s get these to the plow,” Alexander commanded.
They entered the plow with their discoveries. “We found a guy in the gas station,” Alexander told Jacob and Emily. Ashley was asleep. “His name is Mark.” “These are Jacob, Emily, and Ashley, but she got shot, and she’s taking it easy for a while, so I apologize for her unconsciousness.” James said.
“We also found a can and a half of gasoline, that’ll probably take us another few miles. It’s not a lot, but this is really all we could find.” “That’ll only take us about fifteen miles, James!” Jacob said. “Yes, but I’m not in control of how much gas we find.” “We passed four gas stations, you couldn’t have stopped then?” Jacob asked, angrily. “I didn’t hear you say anything when I passed them!” James said, with equal anger. “Stop it, this isn’t getting us anywhere,” Emily interjected. “Yeah, guys, don’t get mad over that, you know it’s not a big deal. There are tons of abandoned vehicles if we can’t find any more gas,” Alexander added. “Stay out of this, kid!” Jacob yelled. “I’ll call the shots around here, okay?” “No one’s ‘calling the shots’, we’re going to work together! If we don’t work together, we won’t get anywhere, just like we aren’t getting anywhere now!” Jacob, in a blind rage, pushed James out of the plow and picked up a pistol out of the pile of guns. “Jacob!” Emily said. “Why are they doing this?” She pleaded rhetorically. “Don’t worry, I’ll get him,” Mark said, calmer than most would have been. Mark vaulted out of the plow, just as Jacob aimed his gun at the panicking James. Mark leaped onto Jacob, throwing him to the ground. The gun went off harmlessly into the asphalt, and James took the gun while Jacob didn’t know what was going on. He whipped Jacob over the head with the pistol, much to Emily’s distress. “He just knocked him, out, Emily, he’ll be fine, if a little pained in the head, in a few hours.” “I think a some sleep is just what he needs. Do you know what his problem was?” She asked. “He was probably just cranky,” James said, with a smirk.
They brought the unconscious, though pacified, Jacob into the plow, and laid him down on the floor, opposite Ashley. “I’ll do the gas,” Emily said. “Hey, thanks,” James replied. “Don’t worry about it.”
Emily poured the can and a half of gasoline into the plow, and got back in. “So, are we off?” She asked. “Well, let’s see,” James said, as he got into the driver’s seat. The plow started, but sounded kind of feeble. “I think it’ll be good for a while,” James said. They kept driving.
Ashley woke up a few hours later. “Who is this?” were the first words out of her mouth, looking at Mark. “I’m Mark,” he said. “I was stuck in a gas station for weeks, but James and Alexander rescued me.” “Where’s Frank?” She asked. “Who’s Frank?” “Frank got shot a few too many times.” James said to Ashley. “Frank was a guy who was with us, but got killed before you came along.”
“You were out for days,” Emily observed to Ashley. “I thought you were in a coma or something.” “Nah, I probably just lost too much blood. Speaking of replenishment, I’m inhumanly hungry,” Ashley said. “Help yourself to the little bags of chips and bottled water we found in the gas station.” Jacob replied.
The plow trekked on for an incredibly long time, considering the amount of gas it had. The thing finally died after nearly eighty miles. James wondered how Jacob would react when he woke up.
“Well, we’re almost in New York,” James said. “Just three states away!” Alexander said with insincere excitement. “We can’t carry all of this food and these weapons and this unconscious man,” Ashley said to the coterie, pointing at each. “We’ll just have to find another vehicle,” Emily decided. “Which, I’m sure, won’t be difficult, since most vehicles these days don’t exactly have owners who’d be up to protect their property… well, except that one…” “Emily and Mark, you stay here, to look after Jacob and protect the plow in case we can’t find anything and have to live here for a while,” James commanded authoritatively. “Why can’t I ever go look for things with you?” Emily asked in an irritated tone. “Well, for one, because you’re pregnant. That’s really the main reason.” “I’m just as able as you, James, and besides, you never stay in the plow. You always go out. I can’t even remember when I set more than five feet outside of this thing!” “It was her idea, James,” Alexander told him. “Fine. If you want to put yourself and your child in danger, so be it, but I’m not going to wait up for you in case of any danger, and I advise everyone else not to either,” James told her. “If you’re so worried about me getting in the way, James, why don’t you stay here?” Emily asked, with a satisfied smirk. “I actually don’t know. I guess I would feel better if I could stay here. Call me a chauvinist, or in Alex’s case, ageist pig, but I sort of just felt like I had to protect the rest of you. I’m sorry if I came off that way. I’ll give you a turn, Emily.” He poured. Emily’s satisfied smirk was killed by James’ reason and apology. After a long period of his silence, Mark said “Maybe I could go too.” “But then I’ll be alone!” James reminded him. “That’s probably an unwise idea.” “I guess I could stay,” Ashley said. “Well, they’ll probably need your incomparable accuracy in case of any trouble, unless your wounds don’t allow it.” “They don’t, trust me,” she informed him. “I’m staying here.” “So, Mark, Emily, and Alexander are all going?” James made sure. “Right.” They each grabbed a gun and left.
“Where should we look first?” Alexander asked the other two. They inspected the area; a suburban neighborhood not unlike the one from which Alexander originated. “How about the garages? That seems pretty obvious” Mark said. “Not so fast, Mark,” Emily said. “The keys might be difficult to find, we might have to hunt through the entire house,” “Not if the keys are in the car,” Mark rebutted. “Let’s just find cars with keys in them.”
They entered the closest house. The garage was locked, and they decided that it would be exceedingly difficult to get in. The front door was locked as well, but Mark shot it open. Once they crossed to the inside, an execrable odor plagued their noses that chased the three of them back outside. “I think there are some dead people, or dead something, in this house,” Mark said. “You don’t think they died of that skin virus, do you, Emily?” “Skin virus?” Mark said uneasily. “Jacob knows the details, but he’s incapacitated right now. I think the wisest course of action is not to enter this house.” Alexander opined. “How do we know they didn’t die of radiation poisoning or anything?” Mark asked. “Listen, Mark,” Emily began, “There are corpses in that house. They died somehow, we don’t know how, but however it was, it killed them. Do you really want to get any closer?” “Great point,” he responded. “Let’s just drag ourselves twenty feet and try another house.”
The next house smelled healthier. As a bonus, the garage was unlocked. Mark opened the garage door, and the three of them found an SUV and a convertible. “The choice seems obvious,” Emily said, looking to see if the SUV had its keys in the ignition. Unfortunately, it didn’t. “Do you think we should go inside and look for them?” Mark asked. Alexander and Emily looked at each other. “Well, you weren’t here, but last time we entered someone’s private property, somebody got killed, and Ashley got shot three times,” Alexander explained. “What are the chances it’ll happen again? If there are any people in the house, let’s just explain ourselves and leave,” Mark suggested. “Well, we could try, but those people we met didn’t exactly wait for a reasonable explanation for our robbery of their vehicle,” Emily said. “We all have guns, if we run into any trouble, I’m sure we can take them,” Mark said, and he opened the door in the garage to the house.
“Where do you think the keys would be? The kitchen, maybe?” Emily said. She began looking for it. “I don’t have any other ideas,” Mark reported. The three entered the kitchen. On the butcher block, there were some keys, as well as some roaches ambling around, looking for old scraps of food. Alexander grabbed them, and they returned to the garage. The keys didn’t fit in the SUV. “I guess they go to the convertible,” Mark said. “Next house?” Emily asked. She didn’t get an answer.
“Drop your weapons,” they heard a voice say from behind. Standing by the garage door, there were three people, two men and a woman, each with a gun pointed right at the invaders. “This place is ours,” The one who spoke first spoke again. “Please don’t hurt us. We’ll leave peacefully if you leave us alone,” Alexander said. “We didn’t know you were using this house,” Mark said. “Please don’t hurt me, I’m pregnant,” Emily pleaded. “What do you have the guns for?” The woman asked. “In case we get into a situation that called for them. This might have to be one if you don’t let us leave,” Mark menacingly advised them. “Are you threatening us?” The woman asked again. “Only if you won’t let us leave,” Mark replied. “Give us your weapons,” another asked. The three glanced at each other. “Come on, hurry up!” He said, brandishing his gun. The other two followed his action. There was a long pause. Finally, Mark put the gun on the ground, and slid it towards their foes. Emily and Alexander did the same. “You two,” the one who spoke first directed, “put the guns with the other ones, I’ll keep an eye on the burglars.”
“How are we going to get out of this?” Emily whispered, while the man was talking. “I’m trying to think of a plan,” Mark whispered back. “Lay on your stomachs!” The man commanded angrily. “But I’m pregnant!” Emily complained. “That’s a real shame, isn’t it, lady?” The man replied coldly.
They lay on the floor on their stomachs, Emily as best she could, while the man pointed the gun in their direction and waited for the others to return.
In the plow, Ashley and James had been talking, mostly about their destination in Maine. Ashley had very few details about it, but did remember and share a few new things with James. “The others have been gone a long while, Ashley,” James considered. “You’re right. Maybe we should check on them,” she replied. They didn’t.
Jacob awoke, finally, his head encrusted with gore, his brain suffering the consequences. “God… my head,” he mumbled with harsh blear as he rolled over. “Jacob? You awake?” Ashley asked. “Yes, I’m awake,” he confirmed. “You got anything to eat?” He asked. “Look around.” Ashley commanded simply. He groggily got up. “Why’d we stop?” Jacob asked. “We ran out of gas, just like you said and got unconscious about, Jacob. Mark, Emily, and Alexander are out looking for another car.” “They’ve been gone awfully long, though, James.” “What should we do about it?” “You made my Emily go out and look for a car? God knows what’s out there! Emily’s pregnant!” Jacob ranted. “That’s the same argument I gave her. She wanted to go. She almost yelled at me for not wanting her to.” “I’m going to go look for her,” Jacob said, who grabbed a gun from the pile and started trying to figure out how it worked. “You probably shouldn’t, Jacob,” Ashley said. “If they’re in trouble, I don’t think an angry man with a gun and an impulsively laid plan will help their situation.” It was no use. Jacob went for the door, but Ashley stopped him. “Get out of my way,” Jacob said, with repressed fury. “I’m fine with letting you risk your life, Jacob, but you’d be risking three others’. I’m not going to let that happen.” She said sternly. “Get out of my way, now!” Jacob said, putting the gun to her forehead. She began to perspire. “Put the gun down, now, Jacob,” James, who had crept to Jacob from behind, said. He had a shotgun pointed at the base of his skull. “If you don’t put the gun down in three seconds, I’ll shoot you right here,” James threatened. Ashley looked terrified at the potential wave of brain matter that could hit her square in the face at any second, probably the next three.
Jacob immediately hopped out of the way of James’ firearm, sprinting towards the back of the plow. Escape probably wasn’t the arrangement. He pointed his gun towards the others shakily, but with frightened rapidity, James emptied a barrel in Jacob’s direction. An ear splitting bang erupted, and Jacob got hit a number of times, and dropped his gun.
At the house, the ear-splitting bang, which was only a muffled bang from the garage, caught the attention of the three captors. “Oh, God!” Emily screamed. “Shut up!” The man said. The other two came in quickly. “Go and see what that was, now!” He yelled. The two re-exited the room and out of the house altogether.
Outside, the two, each with pistols of their own, surveyed the suburban scene. The huge plow in the middle of the road of little snow was, they decided, worth an examination, and they advanced. One of them hopped up onto the door, and peered inside, catching Ashley’s menacing face inside. He saw her move her mouth, but couldn’t tell what she was saying. Moments later, she and James burst out of the door. They both had weapons, so the other two, in a panic, opened fire. Ashley and James’ reaction was to mirror their foes. Being far superior gunmen, they made quick work of their nameless nemeses. Seconds later, in response to the second round of gunfire, the last of the three subjugators vaulted towards James and Ashley with a large rifle. The two of them knew what to do, and shot at the running man. Though they both had shotguns, not one pellet entered their jumping enemy’s body. He got close enough to them, and fired madly towards them. James felt a molten sting in his back, while they retreated back into the plow for cover. Another shot flew through the window, shattering the glass. Ashley hopped up and fired another shell at the rifleman. This time, he stumbled and decreased onto the ground, writhing.
Alexander, Emily, and Mark knew when to retreat, when the last jailor left them all alone, and made their quick escape to the side of the garage. Once all three captors were nesting in the asphalt, they cautiously approached the plow.
“What happened?” Emily, pale with horror, shakily asked Ashley. “James is hurt, we have to help him,” she responded ignorantly. Ashley and Mark started to tend to James’s wound. Emily found what was left of Jacob. “They shot him!” Emily inferred erroneously. “Why did they kill him?” She continued. “Emily,” Ashley began, as she disengaged from James. “Jacob woke up, and we told him that you might have been in trouble. He went pretty nuts and thought he should single-handedly save the three of you. He tried to kill me, so James had to do it.” Emily paused for a moment, in a daze. She looked at James, and began screaming. In unbridled anger, she beat the already grounded James, who didn’t respond. “Emily,” Mark called calmly, but sorrowfully between her unintelligible wailing and punching. “Emily,” he called again in the same tone. James still didn’t move. To you and me, James’s condition probably seems apparent, but to Emily, the poor woman, his well-being was the last thing in her mind. “Emily,” Mark said a little louder, and more unhappily. “What?” She yelled. “James is dead. It’s no use. It looks like the bullet shattered his spine. Please, just stop hitting him.” He finally told her.
Emily looked infinitely guilty and embarrassed after Mark finished his explanation, as it’s probable most would after beating a corpse. They took Jacob and James by the hands and feet, and in the most respectful service they could assemble, set them parallel to each other on a lawn.
The remaining four sat on the road for a few minutes, too troubled to do much of anything. They didn’t hide their grief as much as they did for Frank, but this was two killed, and so suddenly, and over very little, if anything.
After perhaps fifteen minutes of silence, “Our vehicular dilemma still isn’t solved,” Alexander told the other three, trying to change the mood as they walked back to the plow. “I don’t want to go back in that house again for a while, not unless we are all very well armed,” Mark said, emphasizing ‘very.’ “Well that should be pretty, easy, since we still have six or seven weapons,” Ashley said, motioning to the pile of arms. “How are we doing with ammunition?” Mark asked. “Last time I checked,” Ashley began, “which wasn’t all too long ago, we had enough to fully load all of the weapons, and now since we’re short three, I assume we have more than enough.” Their grief seemed to be unusually short-lived. They quickly got back to business.
The four of them, forced to abandon their plow completely, with as many weapons as they could safely carry, re-entered the garage. “Don’t forget that we still need the key to the SUV, guys,” Emily reminded them. Sentences like: “Oh, right,” and “I forgot,” came out of the others.
They searched the kitchen again, this time, more thoroughly and less covertly. After a few minutes, Alexander found another set of keys in a drawer. “I’m guessing these are the ones to the SUV,” he inferred. They returned to the garage, and, as expected, the SUV started, and Ashley drove it up to the plow, and they started moving their supplies.
Some of the food was past its expiration, but since they hadn’t found anything close to fresh food for weeks, they decided they might as well hold on to it. There wasn’t much ammunition left; the shotgun shells were cleaned out. “We have two shotguns and no ammunition for them,” Alexander told the others when he discovered it, “I’m leaving them here,” “Don’t,” Mark said. “We might find more.” “But what are the chances they’ll for be the right gauge?” Alexander argued. “And we have other guns.” They decided Alexander was right, and once they were finished, they got in the vehicle, and drove north.
The landscape wasn’t as bleak in clean areas as one would expect. Looking out of the window would reveal the usual grass, though much of it was dead, and the usual blue, if unnaturally dark, sky. For the summer, it was cold. For any time of year, it was cold. The snow had reminded them of that. It was going to look much worse before looking better. A hydrogen bomb had detonated right in the center of New York state, and that was the direction the SUV was headed.
A few miles into the state, the four were stopped by another roadblock; much more fierce-looking than any they had experienced before. There were about twenty MP’s, and each flourished a giant weapon and donned a radiation suit. There were a few concrete dividers on the road, and, behind them, some vehicles with machine guns affixed to the top. There were black craters in the road where explosions looked to have taken place, and several shot people thrown to the edge of the road.
Two MP’s approached the driver’s side of the vehicle, and Ashley rolled down her window and took a gulp. One of them went right up to the door, and Ashley couldn’t make out his face behind the suit.
“You can’t go any further, this area is being quarantined, and there are dangerous amounts of nuclear fallout. You don’t have any suits, so I suggest you get out of here as quickly as possible,” He said. “How long have you been here?” Ashley asked in astonishment. “That doesn’t matter, you need to go, now. We’re under strict orders to fire on anyone who won’t comply with our orders, from either side of the road block.” A helicopter with a searchlight noisily flew overhead; it looked like it was searching for attempted escapees.
“Let’s just go!” Mark said, anxiously, “At least let’s just go back a little ways and figure out where to go, did you hear what the guy said? Let’s get out of here!” For no discernable reason, Ashley had frozen, unable to make a decision, though it was very obvious which should be chosen. The MP prodded Ashley with the barrel of his gun. “Get out of here, now.” He commanded intensely. Ashley made a u-turn, and began driving back to the border.
“Ashley!” Emily exclaimed as they were driving back. “What the hell happened to you?” “We could have been shot,” Alexander added. “I was trying to think of an alternate route, I’m sorry. I don’t think there is one, by road. When I was in the roadblock, there were maps of all of the ones in the northeast. There isn’t one road that isn’t blocked off in New York. The hydrogen bomb hit almost the exact center of the state, so there isn’t any road we can go on that doesn’t lead to a dangerous area, which means that every road is blocked for hundreds of miles in each direction.” “So, what are you getting at?” Mark asked. “Well, we’ll have to carefully and quietly drive off-road, around all of the stations. I’m glad this is an SUV.”
“What about the helicopter?” Mark inquired. “There’re probably legions of them flying all around the state looking for people trying to get around the roadblocks.” “A forest might cover us well,” Emily suggested. “That’s a good idea, but we should still probably go only at night, and cover the car as best we can during the day.” Ashley added. “What about the headlights?” Alexander asked. “We won’t be able to turn them on, or we’ll be too visible.” “That’s right…” Ashley said, and pondered about what they could do. “I’m not suggesting this or anything,” Emily began, “but it would be pretty easy to sneak around on foot.” “That’s a bad idea for so many reasons, Emily,” Ashley responded. “I know, I know, I’m just saying it would make things easier.” “It would make cancer easier,” Alexander told her. “Not to mention whatever disease the place is being quarantined for, and radiation poisoning, and-” “Okay, okay, I know it’s a bad idea, Alex, I’m not stupid, I just mentioned it, all right?” “I’m sorry,” Alexander said repentantly. “Anyway,” Mark said, “We’re staying in here, that’s all. Let’s just try to figure this out.”
A helicopter flew across the sky in the distance. “Let’s get out of here, we’re in plain sight on this road,” Mark suggested. Ashley drove the vehicle further from the roadblock, looking for anything that they could fashion a path from in the woods. Unfortunately, thick trees flanked what looked like the entire border of the forest, so they kept driving.
Finally, there was a break in the trees large enough for their car to enter. It seemed as though the forest put up fortification on the outside, since the tree density within was far less. By this time, it was growing dark, and night was truly dark. Ashley turned the vehicle in the opposite direction, and slowly drove, squinting as best she could in the nearly pitch black scene. “At least we know that if we can’t see our car, no one else can,” Alexander’s voice declared.
A few minutes later, the car hit a tree. Since it wasn’t exceeding speeds of one hundred feet an hour, no one was hurt; no one was even nudged. The sprinkle of a few pine needles on the windshield was the only audible evidence. “You think we should stop?” Mark asked. “We can’t stop,” Ashley responded, “Not here, anyway. I have to get a barren path in front of the car in case we need to get the hell out of here quickly.” “I think I see some lights from the roadblock, too,” Emily pointed at the window. “It can’t be, we’ve only been driving for maybe a half-hour, and a lot slower than we were coming this way,” Ashley explained. “What the hell are they, then? We all see them, right?” Emily asked. “Yeah, I do,” Mark confirmed, “But I think they’re coming closer.”
“We have to get out of here,” Ashley said, switching the gears to reverse feverously. The pounding of a helicopter was becoming louder, and the blinding searchlight was closing in on the vehicle. Ashley looked less concerned than one would expect, and she plunged through the now dimly lit forest with an infinitely greater speed than before. It was clear that the MP’s had suspected something, and the now noisy automobile in what was supposed to be a placid glen most likely confirmed it, so they entered the woods to impede on the impregnation. Lucky for the impregnators, the forest’s wooden ramparts disallowed the fearsome machine gun-wielding vehicles to give chase, but unlucky for them, a helicopter was exempt. As Ashley drove, the thing fired a deafening series of cracking shells, but alas, the green shield of unbounded leaves forbade any accuracy, permitting the runaways to flee with as few bullet holes in their vehicle as they could ask for.
The forest got less and less dense, the trees became fewer and fewer. Despite the subtraction of trees, through a fairly unfortunate irony, Ashley crashed the thing into another pine, this time, much more sound echoed than a couple needles tapping the car hood. As a bonus, the car was set aflame by the trauma, giving the pursuers a nifty beacon.
“Come on!” Ashley yelled as quietly as she could. Miraculously, no one was killed, and injuries were minor. They followed her by foot the direction the car was going, and no one even thought about the supplies they were leaving behind.
They sprinted for as long as they could, before the quite rural road they were closely following spawned another suburban neighborhood. Having learned their lesson from a previous breaking and entering, they skipped the houses and continued to run, still hearing the whirr of the helicopter, but having lost the MP’s on foot long before.
An ear-splitting thunder and a daylight-simulating explosion erupted from behind them. Naturally, of course, they turned around, to see the flaming skeleton of the helicopter vanish under the trees. “What happened?” Mark asked in terror.
From inside a house, a rugged looking man emerged. “Quick, in here,” he motioned. The four looked at each other anxiously, since the man was a stranger trying to bring them into his house in the middle of the night. It seemed a better choice than spontaneous helicopter combustion, so Ashley decided to enter, and the rest followed.
The mysterious stranger turned on an electric lantern. “Get downstairs, in the basement, the folks down there’ll tell you what’s going on,” he commanded quickly. Another fairly uneasy notion, the four of them entered the basement as was requested.
There were several men and women in camouflage in the basement, as well as crates upon crates of vicious-looking weapons, ranged and otherwise. The electricity, presumably, was out, and there were more lamps, and candles, too. “Who are you?” One asked, in a notably unfriendly tone. “We were… trying to… get past the roadblock…” Mark sputtered while juggling breath catching. “We tried driving through the woods, but the MP’s found us anyway. We accidentally crashed our car, so we had to run a fair distance,” Ashley, who was in much better shape than the rest of them, managed to say with little fatigue. “After a while, we lost the MP’s on foot, but there was a helicopter that still chased us, but it blew up.” “Well, I can explain that,” a woman said. “We managed to find a couple of rocket launchers at an abandoned roadblock a few miles north of here, and someone outside must have taken it down.” “Where did you get all these guns?” Alexander asked in amazement. “Well, before that war, we already had quite a collection, and now, they just seem to be lying around, if you look,” “That’s for sure,” Ashley responded. “We had a big pile of guns, but I guess we left them in our car.” “You’re militia, aren’t you?” Alexander asked, having figured out what was pretty clear. “Well, that’s one way of putting it,” a man said. “I bet you thought we were rebellious zealots before.” The four said nothing, but looked at each other, making their opinion obvious. “Well, I hope you see your mistake.”