Yield (98 page)

“
The resiliency of our children might just save us all,
”
Devin says. His own two miracles wait just hours away.

“
Thank God for that,
”
Jacob nods. A growing hope ripples through the general. He looks down at his granddaughter and the untold promise she might one day bring to mankind.
“
I know this little one will change the world. She is so strong, Devin. Stronger than I ever was
…
”

“
I find that hard to believe,
”
Devin says. He sees an unusual look on the general
’
s face. If Devin didn
’
t know the
man better
, he
’
d think it was regret.

“
It
’
s just
…
”
Jacob starts. His growling voice hushes to a whisper. The general looks out the window at a changed world.
“
What does it say about you, Devin? When your deepest hope for your children is that they follow a different path than yours?
”
He pushes a lock of hair away from Sierra
’
s closed eyes.
“
Making wars is easy. It
’
s creating peace that
’
s the challenge. The world doesn
’
t need another soldier.
”
He
leans down and gently kisses Sierra
’
s head.
“
Do something better than I could, little one.
”

Devin clasps the man
’
s shoulder reassuringly.
“
She
’
ll be fine, mate.
”

The general turns to the deserted scenery, oddly quiet.

Sensing they need a change of topic, Devin flips down the visor. The afternoon sun is now beginning to shine brightly through the streaked glass.
“
So do you ex-military guys get any more info than the rest of us commoners about all this?
”

“
I have some inside sources,
”
Jacob says,
“
but none of the civilian lines have been working. Back at the refugee camp, I pulled rank with a few of the soldiers. The latest news from command says there
’
s heavy fighting in the Atlantic and Pacific. Some of it
’
s a lot closer to home than I think they let on.
”

Jacob stares past the dirty window. The freeway is empty except for the occasional newspaper or plastic bag blowing across the cracked pavement: industrial tumbleweeds for a new era.

“
I never really got used to retirement,
”
Jacob says.
“
So, I ended up freelancing for KOMO-TV back in Seattle as a terrorism analyst.
”

“
Terrorism?
”
Devin asks. Curiosity flashes in his green eyes.
“
Do you think that was part of all this? Or did these countries just launch from somewhere we couldn
’
t pick up?
”

“
Honestly, it could have been both,
”
Jacob shrugs.
“
Suitcase nukes. Long range ballistics. Most intel went dark with the rest of the West Coast grid. NORAD
’
s probably the only place that really knows for sure. Looking back now, there sure were plenty of warning signs. But,
”
he says, his eyes lost along the rough horizon,
“
I don
’
t think anyone could have predicted this.
”

The soldier turns back to Devin. There
’
s a spark of doubt on his patriotic face.
“
It
’
s a hell of a snare they got us in, though. China and North Korea on one side. Russia and Iran on the other. Hell, if I was just a few years younger, I
’
d be fighting,
”
he smiles.

“
Served this country for almost thirty years until my knee blew out. Never could fly a desk. I
’
ve gotta be where the action
’
s at. You of all people can understand that.
”
Jacob
’
s smile fades. He rubs at the reconstructing screws and metal plates inside his rebuilt knee joint.
“
Course, if they need me back out on the battlefield, it
’
s probably too late already.
”

*  *  *

Scattered pedestrians move along I-5, heading along the four southbound lanes under showering skies. A large group excitedly turns toward the rumbling of the military diesel. They wave desperately at the approaching green transport.

Glancing back into the cramped and overflowing passenger bed, Devin
’
s stomach knots. They can
’
t fit anyone else.

“
They
’
ll outnumber us if you stop,
”
Jacob says.
“
This rig
’
s already way over capacity. It
’
s not a Greyhound,
son
.
”

Guilt eats away at him. The fireman forces his arms to swerve around the begging crowd.
“
I
’
m sorry!
”
he shouts through rolled-up windows.
“
There
’
s no room!
”

Weary hitchhikers pound on the sides of the green truck as it idles by them. They plead for help and pity from those inside.

The sight of their weeping faces
recedes
in his mirrors
.
Families and children cry out among them, stumbling forward from fatigue.

“
I
’
m sorry,
”
Devin whispers. Tears sting in his eyes.

Sporadically at first, cars and trucks begin moving along I-5. More of salvation
’
s chariots merge onto the freeway as Devin rumbles past the city of Kent. Twenty miles to the north, black clouds still spread from horizon to horizon. Fire glows inside the darkness, continuing to feed on the ashen remains of Seattle.

Most vehicles they see are overflowing with refugees. Feet dangle from open tailgates. Bodies sit atop other willing laps. The acceptance of a shared fate seems to have pushed all modesty and selfishness aside, bringing those who are left far closer. The caravan of strangers looks at one another across the moving pavement. Stories of terror and survival are carved into every face.

“
I know you
’
d like to, Devin,
”
the general says,
“
but we can
’
t save everyone. Somebody
’
s bound to pick them up. We could have broken an axle if we added more weight back there. Then everyone would
’
ve been walking again.
”

Devin nods blankly. He knows Jacob
’
s right, but all he can see in his mirrors are the desperate faces of those they passed.

“
If there
’
s one thing I
’
ve learned from my years in the Army, son, it
’
s that a shared tragedy brings people together in a way that nothing else can.
”
Jacob
’
s steely blue eyes dart from car to car.
“
Just look around you. I bet you not a soul knows anyone else they
’
re riding with, but they still help each other because they know that
’
s all they have left.
”
There
’
s a hard-fought wisdom in Jacob
’
s face.
“
When everything
’
s been stripped away, we have only our values to guide us.
”

The freeway traffic continues to get heavier the farther south they move.

“
Well, it feels like I
’
ve done most of the talking the past few days,
”
Jacob starts again. Silence has always made him uncomfortable.
“
What
’
s your story anyway, Devin? Where are you from?
”

“
Originally?
”
Devin asks.
“
Liverpool, but I moved to the States with my family back when I was still in high school. Hated them a bit for that,
”
he smiles.
“
I suppose that
’
s where my daughter gets some of her rebellious nature. I left home two weeks before my eighteenth birthday and never looked back.
”

“
That
’
s a long time to be out on your own.
”

“
Not really,
”
Devin says.
“
I became a firefighter pretty soon after I left. Spent seventeen years running into fires. Even was a station chief back in Portland.
”

“
Was?
”
Jacob presses. Devin
’
s use of past tense jumps out to the general like a bright red flag.

“
I
…
”
Devin pauses. He glances out to the landscape whizzing by them, trying to find the right words.
“
I was put on semi-permanent leave a couple months ago.
”

“
Semi-permanent?
”
Jacob laughs.
“
What the hell
’
s that? In my day, Devin, they called it getting fired.
”

“
A blooming mess is what it was, mate,
”
Devin says. Color jumps to his cheeks.

“
So, what
’
d you do?
”

“
Why does it matter?
”
Devin asks. The fireman scoots his back in tighter to the seat, his body straightening.

“
Why are you answering a question with a question?
”
Jacob counters.
“
It
’
s a long drive, and I just realized I really don
’
t know a whole hell of a lot about you.
”

Devin sighs. He really doesn
’
t want to pick at old wounds. But the general is not the kind of man to drop it. Not after he smells blood.

“
Underneath this elegant veneer,
”
Devin begins,
“
I
’
m told I
’
m a bit of an ass. For some reason, people enjoy being so incredibly forward around me.
”
He glances accusingly at Jacob.
“
I was also told that I had a bit of a drinking problem, and I needed to get it under control. It was all rubbish, blown completely out of proportion by the bloody media,
”
Devin says angrily.
“
I suppose if you look forward to having a drink to take the edge off a rough day or to celebrate a good one
, p
retty soon you
’
re making up all kinds of excuses just to take a nip.
”

“
They
‘
semi-permanently
’
fired you just for enjoying a drink every now and then?
”
Jacob presses. He puts his fingers up in quotes to emphasize the fireman
’
s bullshit term.
“
How did any of that even get back to the media?
”

“
Well,
”
Devin grins.
“
There was also a minor dispute with one of my daughter
’
s boyfriends. Yes, I may have had just a wee bit too much liquid comfort in me at the time, but the 18-year-old cretin was in my house, trying to dilly-dally with my little girl! So
…
”
Devin pauses again, looking at the general
’
s rapt face.
“
I kindly escorted the bugger out. And down the driveway. And perhaps across the street into my neighbor
’
s bird bath
…
”
The fireman
’
s voice trails off. His eyes drift to the window, borrowing agreement from the barren landscape moving past.