Radioactive Omnibus- A Prepper Survival Story (5 page)

Haggard raised his eyebrows. “And what
does
scare you the most?”

Jim paused as he looked straight into Haggard’s eyes and said, “That whoever did this seriously believes that they can win.”

Haggard laughed. “We’ll find out whoever did this within the week.”

Jim gave him a nasty look. “Oh, good. I’m glad they’ll be able to figure everything
after
the attacks.”

Captain Haggard rested his hands on the table and leaned in to meet Jim’s gaze. Coyle sat frozen in his seat. Haggard motioned for an MP at the door.

“You can escort these two back to the base, and be sure to confiscate any weapons they have on them.”

Jim knocked the MP’s hand away and marched out on his own steam. Coyle hung back a minute and Haggard almost forgot he was there until he spoke up.

“He’s had a long day,” Coyle said. 

Haggard gave a penetrating look that sent Coyle out of his chair and to the exit of the tent in a flash.

Jim, Coyle, Tigs, and the rest of the survivors of the road blast were all packed up and sent to the base for safety precautions. They were told they would be able to rest and regroup there. Jim had to give up his pistols, shotgun, rifle, and ammunition from the duffle bag upon arrival. Coyle’s stomach rumbled and the two decided the first order of business was to find the mess hall.

Jim grabbed a plate and Coyle shuffled in behind him, cutting a man who was trying to get in line.

“Hey, back of the line, pal,” the man said.

Coyle whipped around and flashed his bandaged arm.

“Medical case. I get first priority. Let me know when you save somebody’s life, though, and I’ll be sure you get in the front of the line.”

Coyle picked up a plate and turned to see Jim’s back. He pulled on his shoulder, but Jim wouldn’t budge. Coyle jumped around in front of him.

“Are you trying to get us shot? Because based off of your track record, it’s starting to become a trend.”

“I didn’t have the best track record when I was in the Navy. ‘Intelligent, but reckless’ I think is what my file said. The only thing I was reckless about was telling the truth.”

“I never pictured you as the type with authority problems. That’s supposed to be my thing. You’re stealing my thunder, Jim.”

A surly woman in a hairnet slopped a scoop of meat onto Jim’s plate, which splashed bits of brown drips onto his shirt. Jim looked down at his shirt and then at the lady who showed no sign of remorse. He moved onto the next server who was giving out veggies.

The spread wasn’t that bad. The mystery meat turned out to be meatloaf, and with sides of mash potatoes, green beans, and bread rolls, Jim realized just how long it had been since he actually ate something. He wolfed down the entire plate and got up for seconds. When he got back with his second helping, Coyle was just finishing up his first. Jim scooped up a little bit of the meatloaf and folded it in a napkin to give to Tigs back at their tent that was being set up.

After the second helping, Jim’s eyes grew heavy and the two of them looked for where they’d be staying for the night. The military had set up some temporary relief tents usually reserved for natural disasters. The tents had eight rows of four cots, each with a blanket and pillow.

They were under a “lights out” 9:30
P.M.
curfew, and for the first time since he’d been here Jim didn’t object to the military’s rules. He was exhausted. He sunk into the bed and wasn’t sure if he would ever get up. With Tigs tucked under him in her cage chewing on the meatloaf, and Coyle snoring in the cot beside him, Jim drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

***

Jim awoke with the rising sun and the nudges from the soldiers corralling everyone out of their bunks. Coyle was particularly displeased with the abrupt awakening and made sure to give a middle finger to the back of the solider that woke him once he turned away.

Jim picked up Tigs’ cage and let her out by a patch of sand to do what cats do. The orange sun was halfway above the desert horizon, and Jim glanced down at his watch to check the time. It was frozen at 1:21
P.M.
, which was the time of the blasts at the base yesterday. Jim tapped on the glass face, but the hands stood still.

Tigs jumped around a bit, happy to be out of her cage and started circling Jim’s legs. He picked her up and scratched her chin. She purred appreciatively. Coyle finally came out of the tent with his hair a complete mess, still upset about the early rising.

“You think that they’d want everyone well rested.”

“You slept for almost ten hours,” Jim said.

“The keyword there is ‘almost’,” Coyle said.

Coyle stretched and gave Tigs a few pets. Jim looked at all of the people emerging from the tents in groups, pairs, or by themselves heading over to the breakfast tent. A line was beginning to form and Jim suggested that they get over there before it got too long. Before Coyle could object and go back to bed his stomach growled and agreed that breakfast was a good idea.

Eggs and hash browns filled their plates and both Jim and Coyle were glad to see that the surly woman from last night wasn’t on the line. Jim appreciated that the woman there this morning seemed to understand that getting the food on his plate, and not his shirt, was the best practice of serving.

Jim and Coyle sat across from each other. Jim squeezed in between a young couple and a man with two children, while Coyle sandwiched in between two extremely plump gentlemen who smelled like musty cheese. The young couple next to Jim started to argue as he downed his food.

“I just don’t understand why we can’t just go back to our cars and leave,” the girl whined. “I mean it’s not like those terrorists wanted our Camry, right?”

The man let out a long breath. “The car might not even be working, babe, and the soldier we spoke to said that he wasn’t sure when we’d be able to leave, so we might as well just make the best of it.”

She threw her arms up in the air. “Well, how long is that going to take? A day? A week? A month? What about my sister’s wedding?”

“I wouldn’t mind missing that joyous occasion,” the young man murmured under his breath.

She raised her voice in shock and disgust loud enough for the whole base to hear.

“WHAT?” she demanded.

The man regretted his tired comments, but before he could apologize the girl stood up from her seat, smacked the back of his head, and stormed off. The young man sat in silence for a moment and then looked over at Jim.

“Still better than going to that wedding,” he said.

Coyle leaned over the table to grab the man’s attention.

“So the solider you spoke to said we could be here a while?”

The man nodded and added, “He also said the highway is toast. I left that part out, because as you can see my lovely wife is having a bit of a hard time coping with our current situation.”

“It’ll take some time before they can repair the damage from that bomb,” Jim said.

“I hope the car’s still in one piece when we get back,” the young man said as he shook his head and shoveled some eggs onto his fork. “I just bought that damn thing.”

Jim didn’t want to say aloud the one thing he was thinking: they had to get to Phoenix.

The young man finished his meal and said goodbye to Jim and Coyle. Coyle wished him good luck and after he’d left, Coyle let out a whistle.

“Damn his wife is hot,” he said. 

Once they were out of ear shot from the other groups and Coyle had stopped moaning about wanting to go back to bed, Jim shared his thoughts with him.

“You really think it’s still better to get to Phoenix than to stay here?” Coyle asked.

“I think it’s a good idea to get as far away from the base as we can get. Whoever’s doing this seems to be basing their blasts around military stations,” Jim said.

Jim pulled a map out of his back pocket and crouched down on the ground spreading it out. He pointed to where they were on the base in El Centro and ran his finger along the Gila River, which ran parallel to the highway and right into Phoenix.

“It’s two hundred and fifty miles from here to Phoenix, which means it would be about an eight day hike. That’s too long for the supplies that we have, so we’ll need to gather up some more food before we take off,” Jim said.

“Gather food from where? It’s not like they have a Wal-Mart on the base.”

“They’re not too concerned about the security around the rations, which is a mistake for them, but good for us.”

“So wait, let me get this straight. You want to steal food from the military, who are armed with some very big guns, without them catching us, and then take a camping trip to Phoenix?”

Jim gathered up the map and folded it back into his pocket.

“If things are as bad as I think they are out there, then getting away from this place as fast as we can is important.”

“No. No, Jim. You don’t have any proof. You don’t have access to the same information that the Army, Navy, or CIA does. You want us to leave the first safe spot we’ve run into since we left San Diego on the basis of some crazy-ass theory?”

“Why do you want to stay here? Because the last military base we were at was so safe? I need to get to Phoenix and make sure my sister and niece are alright. If you’re too chicken-shit to come with me, then you can stay here.”

Jim shoved Coyle hard in the chest and sent him flying backwards. Coyle shoved him back.

“Fuck you, man!” Coyle screamed and stormed off.

A whirl of dust circled Jim as a hot breeze brushed his face and body. He wasn’t sure if his neck felt hot because of the altercation with Coyle or the sun. He was getting to Phoenix one way or another; with or without Coyle.

Jim was right about the lack of security on the food supplies. He didn’t even have to be coy about walking up with his bag. There was only one security guard stationed at the front and right after lunch he was able to slip in the back and grab enough rations to get him through the trip. He didn’t skimp on grabbing the good stuff either. There were thousands of dollars of MREs stacked up in crates. With these and the supplies he already had in his pack, he would be able to last for about two weeks if he had to. He wanted to take more, but his bag was filled to the brim.

He thought about checking the ammunition depot, but didn’t want to press his luck. When he made it back to the sleeping quarters he saw that Coyle had moved from the cot next to him over to the corner by himself. Jim rolled his eyes and slid the pack back under his cot. The only other thing he really wanted to get back was his guns.

Jim let Tigs out of her cage one more time onto the sand to take care of business, and then after she ran around for a bit Jim put her back into her cage and set off to find out where they stashed his guns. He scouted the base as best he could, but the soldiers were keeping a close eye on him the further he got away from the civilian quarters, no doubt on the orders of Haggard, so Jim didn’t venture too far.

After a few hours scouring the base, Jim decided it was a lost cause and headed back to the tent. The sun was getting low and he wanted to be sure to gather his stuff before it got dark.

As he walked in and sat down, Coyle snuck up from behind him and slumped onto the cot causing it to sink a little closer to the floor. Coyle placed a poorly wrapped blanket onto his lap and Jim heard the familiar metal clank of his AR-15 against the pistols. He looked at Coyle with astonishment, but Coyle kept his eyes forward.

“I couldn’t get the shotgun, but both pistols are there.”

Jim’s mouth hung open as he tried to grasp what had just happened. Coyle looked at him once the silence had gone on for a bit. “What? You’re not the only one who’s good at stuff.”

“I didn’t mean to go off on you like that,” Jim said.

“I deserved it,” he replied. “All you’ve done for me is save my ass and all I’ve done is been a pain in yours. If you’re going to Phoenix, then so am I. Besides,” Coyle glanced around and saw the nurse he was flirting with the day before smiling and waving at him, “I think the nurse is getting a little too clingy.”

The two of them decided that they’d make a run for it tomorrow night after they scoped out the security detail to see when the best time would be to sneak out.

Night fell and Jim and Coyle snuck out of the tents and checked the perimeters. There were Humvee patrols, sniper towers, and armed personnel at every gate with some patrolling in between.

They were both caught by an MP and escorted back to their tent, quite roughly, after they explained in unison that they were going to the bathroom and having a smoke at the same time.

After they were escorted back to their cots and the guard unit had been doubled at the sleeping quarters Coyle poked his head out from under the sheets.

“I don’t think we’re getting out of here anytime soon.”

Jim didn’t respond. He stared into the darkness of the sagging ceiling. The increased security wasn’t what stirred him in his sleep that night. It was the thought of where his sister was. Were they safe? Were they still in Phoenix? The worry in his stomach made for a restless night.

***

The night air was chilly, and at first Jim just thought it was Coyle’s snoring that had awoken him, but then he heard shouts and commotion in the tent. Some kids started crying and the murmured whispers of panic began to grow louder. Jim shot up and rushed to the front of the tent where a group of people had crowded.

“What’s going on out there?”

“Are we under attack?”
“Will we be safe?”

The soldiers at the tent entrance were doing their best to calm their fears, but with the tension in the air they didn’t think it would take long for the rush of panic to finally break through. Jim’s eyes scanned the outside of the tent and there was a lot of movement going on. Small units of men were rushing towards the exit gate.

Soldiers were packing up supplies in large trucks and stripping the base of anything essential or confidential. A young, female petty officer first class came running up towards the sergeant who was trying to calm the crowd.

“Sergeant,” she said.

The sergeant turned around and was handed a piece of paper. He folded it up and handed it back to the petty officer. He raised his voice so the whole tent could be heard.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please gather up any personal belongings and be prepared to leave in five minutes. There will be trucks coming along escorting you further east at a new temporary location.”

Murmurs circled in the crowd. People started running towards their cots and grabbing what little possessions they had with them.

“What’s causing the evacuation?” Jim asked.

“Sir, please just gather your things and be ready to move.”

“Sergeant, please, just tell me what’s going on?”

“You military?”

“Use to be.”

The sergeant looked him over and then leaned in so he couldn’t be heard by the other civilians standing around.

“We got reports that the radiation from the blasts are heading this way. We’re evacuating further east to avoid the fallout.”

The sergeant marched off and Jim headed back over to Coyle who already had the blankets with the guns and their packs stacked next to Tigs’ cage.

“What’d he say?” Coyle asked.

“Radiation’s coming from the blasts. They’re moving us further east to avoid the contamination.”

“Do you know how far east they’re taking us? Are we going to Phoenix?” Coyle asked.

Jim shrugged. He didn’t get that answer from the sergeant. It would make sense for them to head to Phoenix. It was far enough east and just north enough that the winds would probably miss the city and blow down over into Mexico or Texas.

Jim gathered the rest of his gear along with Tigs’ cage, who was meowing incessantly, and headed over towards the entrance with the others to wait for their transport. The commotion outside the tent had turned into a full evacuation of the base. Tanks, armored cars, and soldiers coordinated towards the exit. Three large transport trucks pulled up in front of them and six soldiers jumped down.

The first man was a heavyset fellow with a bushy mustache whose uniform hugged a little to tightly to his body.

“Okay, we need twenty to a truck,” said the mustached soldier.

Jim and Coyle ended up in the third truck and were sandwiched between the young couple they met yesterday and one very, very upset baby who Coyle had the privilege of sitting next to. The base faded into the night behind them as they journeyed onto the road ahead.

“Okay, everyone. We’re heading to Phoenix and we’ll be setting you up in a secure location until the situation has been contained. Once we reach Phoenix you’ll be free to head off wherever you need to,” said the mustached soldier.

The baby started to scream again and Coyle leaned in to Jim, speaking slightly above a whisper. “Are we there yet?”

***

Jim had drifted off during the ride, but jolted awake just as the sun rose. He wasn’t sure how long he had been sleeping, but he rubbed his eyes and looked over at Coyle who was slumped on his shoulder. The soldier riding with them was awake in the back and Jim grabbed his attention.

“How close are we to Phoenix?” Jim asked.

The soldier glanced up with dark circles under his eyes. “We’re about forty-five minutes out.”

The trucks rumbled along the highway as the sun peaked further from the desert horizon. The orange glow started to shine through the canvas cracks of the truck and its inhabitants began to stir.

Jim felt the outline of the pistol in his hands underneath the blanket. All of the events of the past few days began to replay in his mind. The attacks at the base, getting out of San Diego, the gas station, the road block, and now this. He was sitting in a military truck outrunning the fallout from radiation blasts he watched go off.

The exhaustion from everything that had happened was starting to take its toll on him. Jim rubbed his hands over his face and leaned back against the taut canvass behind him. There wasn’t anything on the road besides them. No cars, no people, no animals, nothing. It was eerily quiet on the road and Jim’s eye caught a sign. He only saw it for a moment before it was out of view, but the road sign said “I-10 West”.

It took a minute for Jim to register what he’d just seen. Then he’d realized what was happening. They did go north, but they hadn’t gone east. They were heading back to California towards Los Angeles. Phoenix was in the other direction.

Jim elbowed Coyle who jumped with a pissed look on his face. Jim pulled him in close.

“They’re not taking us to Phoenix,” Jim said.

“What?” Coyle asked.

Jim gritted through his teeth as his tone became angrier.

“They’re…not…taking…us…to…Phoenix.”

Jim jumped out of his seat and headed toward the soldier in the back. He knelt down in front of him and looked him in the eye with a calm, stern undertone in his voice.

“Where are we going?” Jim asked.

A few of the passengers next to the soldier began to stir awake. The soldier looked at Jim for a moment, not sure what to do, but then said, “Sir, please go back to your seat. We’ll be arriving shortly.”

“Yes, but where are we arriving?” Jim asked. “Because it sure as hell isn’t Phoenix.”

The gentlemen closest to them started to lean in with a worried look on his face. “What’s going on?” he interrupted.

Jim kept his eyes on the soldier. “Why aren’t we going to Phoenix? What’s happened?” 

The soldier placed his hand on his rifle. “Sir, I must insist you go back to your seat.”

Jim glanced at the weapon and then back up at the soldier who had risen up out of his seat. Jim’s thoughts went back to the pistol under his blanket. Finally, Jim went and sat down.

The soldier kept his eyes on Jim for a while before returning them to the back of the truck and watching the road disappear behind them.

“Well? What’s going on?” Coyle asked.

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t give me anything.”

“Do you think something happened to Phoenix?”

“It could be anything. Phoenix might be compromised or they could have received new orders. They’re the ones controlling the information, so we’re at their mercy right now.”

Jim felt the outline of the pistol in his blanket more thoroughly. He kept it close to him as the truck rumbled westbound.

The truck finally slowed down and came to a stop. Jim could hear voices shouting at one another outside the truck, then the truck would crawl forward, more shouting, and then stop. Jim leaned his ear to the thin canvas to listen what the people outside were saying.

“Business?” a man shouted above the diesel engine.

“Dropping off some refugees that were on the I-8 attack,” replied the driver.

“Alright, move it on through.”

The truck jumped forward and Jim watched a draw gate lower from a guard station behind them. Through the dust the truck was kicking up Jim saw soldiers with rifles and a machine gun nest perched on the sides of the road.