The Survivors: Book One (3 page)

"Get higher!"

Even as Sam finished the shout, she saw the blades stop spinning, her ears registering the sudden, deafening silence, and then they were plummeting to the earth in a sickening blur of swirls and screams.

The government bird slammed into the rocky, Wyoming ground at a hard angle and flew back up, flipping and twisting into new shapes. It blew through a thick tree and began to roll, scattering awful debris. Huge flames and thick smoke blanketed the crash site.

Her hurting body checked in as bruised and ready to hide, but otherwise uninjured, and Samantha groaned, not opening her eyes. The lack of noise (not even a whimper or scream) told her that the rest of her traveling companions had not been so lucky, and she moaned again, dazed.

Forgetting for a second about all that had happened, she hoped someone had already called 911.

“See! Told ya it’s a woman!”

 The male voice released her tears. Help was here!

“I’ll hold her down ‘n you can go first this time, but let’s pull her away from all that metal and fire.”

As hands closed like iron bands around her slender ankles, Samantha started screaming again.

5

Less than half a minute had passed when another wave of destruction rushed out - one of pressure and wind at levels not even buildings, let alone people, could withstand. Those who had time to get below ground were not as safe as they thought, especially in California, where the ‘Big One’ finally came and went mostly unnoticed. People were already busy dying.

Adrian - California

"Is it true? Are you his son?"

Adrian opened his mouth to confirm the lethal secret he’d just been confronted with by his fellow Greenpeace members, but snapped it shut as the neighborhood sirens began to wail again. The static-filled radio blared a reporter’s shocked words.

 “…has been unlike anything my generation has ever experienced. We are watching in horror as each of these bombs hits and… it’s so ugly! Huge fireballs instantly create gaping, fifty-mile wide craters around the point of impact and blasts all those buildings, cars, and people into the sky. As it rises, it forms a gigantic, toxic black mushroom cloud that immediately begins to spread with the wind.

“Instantly following these explosions, are huge rushes of thermal heat and light that shoot out in every direction, peeling skin away from bones and blinding every living thing facing in that direction. The temperatures are in the hundreds of degrees, and those in the path have no chance of escaping as our way of life begins to crash down…”

The station faded into a national anthem as a city siren reached its peak. Ear-splitting, it overwhelmed, just for a brief second, the horrible noises going on outside the small, San Bernardino ranch home, and across the riot-ravaged country. Adrian’s patriotic heart bled for people he didn’t know, and the powerful secret he had kept suddenly seemed tiny in comparison. But it wasn’t. It was the sum of all secrets, and likely the reason their world was ending.

The radio on the basement steps wailed suddenly, mirroring previous sounds of impending arrival. The  stepped under the thick planks next to the Christmas tree as a dozen other surrounded him, shock and outrage on their faces.

 “You caused this!”

Adrian had a brief moment to think he was glad that most of those here for the meeting had already fled at the reports of a bomb hitting the West Coast, but even this dozen was too many to fight unarmed if things got ugly. Good thing he wasn’t. How had they found out?

“Answer the question!”

"Tell the truth!"

The furious men moved closer, and the plastic tree and presents went flying when he tried to use them for a shield.

“We'll beat it out of ya!"

“Did you know?”

Their eyes and voices were full of hate, demanding answers. Again, he started to answer and was cut off - this time by a huge, vicious rumbling under their feet.

It came hard and fast, sawdust from the stairs falling over them as it pounded closer through the rock and stone. Adrian had been in enough hot landing zones to recognize the danger, and threw himself to the tiled floor, putting a hand on the gat
4
in his pocket, as some of the men followed his lead. Others lunged his way, thinking he was trying to escape.

“Get him!”

“Incoming! Get down!”

The walls above them exploded an instant later, blown away like brittle leaves in the fall, and then the small, neat house above them was crumbling, burying them alive.

6

These were the first and most direct effects of the War on American soil, the beginning of a hard new world where all authority disappeared. In less than one day, calm, arrogant safety vanished and took with it, the rest of society’s perceived protections that had always been taken for granted…like calling 911.

Angela – Ohio

“He didn’t say Ft. Defiance. He didn’t.”

The very pale woman dropped the stained hospital scrubs she'd just changed out of and gripped the back of the kitchen chair. Oblivious to the gunshots and screams outside, and to the pains tearing through her slightly rounded belly, she watched the CNN report on the plasma T.V., listening to them tell of an impact over 1200 miles from her Cincinnati home.

“.. latest word is five million dead, another two million injured or exposed, and the cloud is moving west, northwest towards the Alabama State line at 37 mph. Camp David is gone, Houston, all the coastal oil refineries…”

“Charlie?”

The woman slid to her knees on the plush carpet of the two-bedroom apartment, the agony in her chest worse than the bands of pressure clamping around her stomach, pushing down. Footsteps thudded in the halls outside her door, followed by more shouts. Both went unnoticed.

“It can’t be!”

The cell phone slid out of her hand, liquid suddenly oozing down her thighs and swollen legs as Christmas lights flashed mockingly in place of emergency blinkers.

“I would know!” she cried suddenly, doubling over, “I would know!”

The door in her mind rattled and she grunted in pain, trying to draw on a gift (curse) she had locked away over a decade ago, but she was weak and those magic halls remained closed.

Her forehead thumped on the carpet as pain, raw and sharp, tore through her stomach. Darkness flooded her mind.

Now unheard, an emotionless voice echoed calmly:
“Please hold and the next available operator will assist you. 911 estimated wait time... Two hours, 14 minutes…The system is currently experiencing heavy call volume. If this is not an emergency, please hang up and try your call again later. Service outages can be expected in some areas. Please continue to hold and the…”

Behind her, the horrified reporter continued to tell the rest of the world what was happening, but few were listening. The end had come.

“...Chicago barrier gave way instantly and millions of gallons of debris-filled water barreled downstream, overwhelming towns and cities for 40 miles before joining the Wabash River, swelling it even more. It has poured down every stream, sewer, creek, and river it touched, sweeping away thousands in each state.

“This merciless torrent split briefly between the Wabash and Mississippi Rivers, widening the path of damage, then merging again in Louisiana, where it finally punched a hole through the city of Baton Rouge and emptied into the already flooded Gulf.

“The pressure of the bombs, coupled with the pounding of the raging water, has triggered the ancient New Madrid fault line under St. Louis, causing a 7.7 earthquake that is leveling untouched areas, and is being felt as far away as Kansas City and Louisville. Places like Humboldt and Jonesboro have simply collapsed like dominoes, already weakened by the surge of debris-filled waves…."

7

Once again a target for the government they represented, the military was especially hard hit. Most of the service men and women who survived, later denied they were ever a part of any armed force. As few as one out of every ten came through the War alive despite being so well-trained...

Kenn –Arizona

“Damn!"

The Lance Corporal ducked down, pushing the muddy
hardback
5
as fast as it would go.

Ft. Defiance was under siege. Furious and terrified citizens were trying to get over and through the electrified, ten-foot-high fence that surrounded the 17-mile compound. It sounded like a giant bug zapper - poles, cars, furniture, and even people were being used to try to break the live wires - but so far, the strong magnetic force had held.

It didn’t keep out the bullets, though, and the Marine pulled his cover farther onto his head as the popping grew steadier, almost rhythmic. Someone out there was firing an assault rifle. Kenn’s grip on the wheel tightened, knuckles white - he hated the feeling of near panic that lurked just under the surface. He had to get there first! Choppers were swarming over the grounds of the base, trying to evacuate the Marines and "Draftees", but the violent winds gusting from the direction of Houston made landing difficult, and might give him a chance.

In the past, the weather was the worst challenge the Pilots had to face here. Now, it was the least of their worries. Arriving Birds were being blown out of the smoky skies before they could descend to safety – crashing, exploding, flinging twisted metal debris flying into the screaming mob of rioters. Some aircraft were only damaged, and would crash later in remote locations, but many had already fallen on the scene from ambush - telephone poles and grenade launchers were hard for the overloaded choppers to avoid. In short, it was mayhem.

"Yes!" The cadet barracks came into full view through the thicket of trees. “He has to be here!"

Men shouted, hungry rioters screamed, guns fired, and gust after violent gust of stomach-churning wind pushed against the truck, slowing it down. The sky above the base rolled with thick red clouds that flashed angrily, and black flakes fell like a blizzard, coating everything with a heavy layer of soot that looked like ash from a volcano.

Kenn looked up suddenly, the shadow of the chopper passing overhead not what drew his attention, but the silence of its engines. He stared in shock as the big Bird began to freefall, spiraling toward him.

Not realizing the truck’s engine had died too, Kenn mashed the pedal and ducked, as the chopper spun past. He met the eyes of the horrified pilot for a brief second, before it hit the main dorm, exploded through it.

Orange flames and thick black smoke billowed upward, and Kenn’s heart froze as the cheers and screams of those outside the fences grew louder, hungrier. If the boy had been in there, he was dead now. No one could have survived that.

Falling apart at the seams

8

By midnight, communication lines were down across the country. No internet, no phones, no cable - and unchecked rioting across the nation. With their lives suddenly blown away, the stunned survivors had no idea what to do. Few thought to help each other.

Split between broken states that had only small areas capable of sustaining life, most people began trying to get out of the cities. Searching for safety, and unaware that it no longer existed, millions more were lost in the aftermath. At dawn, the American people were confident, arrogant about their future. By dusk, the dream was crushed, faith not only shaken, but mortally wounded.

Less than a week after the War, the death toll stood at 250 million in the United States alone. Twenty million of those who survived were seriously injured or blinded and another seven million had the radiation sickness. Most of those didn’t live to see the new year.

The numbers were staggering, inconceivable, and yet, real. The world’s worst fears had been proven true. The horribly high cost of freedom was settled in the blood of the innocent, as debts like these, in the end, always are.
The people should have been prepared, ready, and instead, the governments expected to protect, hurt their citizens as much as the actual bombs. The Draft took tens of thousands of desperately needed doctors, scientists, nurses and engineers, and they stripped farms and factories alike of their crops and livestock, leaving their owners bodies rotting where they fell. They took it all.

Some people fled before the President’s broadcast began airing, tipped off by determined sources as the governments began locking it down. A few of those quick-thinking souls survived, but flight was not an option for most. There were loved ones and supplies to be gathered first, and by then, the roads crammed with traffic and accidents were impassable, forcing people to either wait in their cars for the convoys of draft trucks, or set out on foot to find somewhere to hide.

Those were the ones who fled too late, and were caught out in the open with all those who had already been on the road for the holiday. The rest hunkered down where they were and hoped their town wasn't a direct target, or close to one.

Only two of every nine Americans survived the end of the world. This is our story…

Chapter Two