by Mike Kraus
After Leonard’s mind began to process the shocking visuals that surrounded him, he gagged, nearly vomiting as the scent of the city overwhelmed him. The smell of the smoke and fire was strongest, followed closely by the unmistakable smell of death and burning flesh. While much of the city had been flash-burned and vaporized in an instant, there were more than enough fuel sources left for the fires to consume.
Most of the skyscrapers on the island had been completely destroyed, wiped away in the first few seconds after the blast. Those that still stood were only ten or twenty stories high at most, and even still, a steel shell was all that was left of them. Many of the shorter, squatter buildings still stood, like the corner markets, port warehouses and townhouses that were far enough out to withstand the pressure wave.
Leonard stood not quite in the center of it all, but close enough to feel like he just stepped out of paradise and into oblivion. The exit to the processing station that he had finally escaped through was on the south side of Manhattan Island, close to the World Trade Center memorial and just a short distance from a large marina. As he looked around at the devastation both on and off the island, his eyes filled up with tears, though he dared not think about it for fear of feeling like a lesser man. Leonard didn’t like to cry, though this was one of the few times in his life when he felt that he couldn’t stop the emotions.
He began to walk, slowly, through the rubble of the streets, making his way to a small Sanitation Department check-in point near the marina, or what was left of it. He wasn’t prepared for this level of destruction on the surface. He had been expecting the damage underground to be caused by an earthquake, but this was something entirely different. Earthquakes would shake buildings and bring them down, but this was on a scale more massive than anything he had seen or read about in his lifetime.
Anything but one thing, that is. As Leonard climbed up a mountain of rubble and half walked, half slid down the other side, the pattern of destruction began to feel familiar. The slowly dawning realization halted him in his steps as he remembered back to primary school when his class studied world history and the first use of atomic weapons.
Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Somebody dropped a fucking nuke on us.
With that realization, the destruction suddenly made sense. Then, another sickening thought crossed his mind. What about the radiation? Leonard froze, debating whether to run back to the processing station entrance and retreat back underground. After a few seconds his shoulders slumped and he kept walking towards the marina. Eh, no use in going back. I’ve been out here long enough that I’ll die anyway. Leonard began to wonder about this, though. He had been out on the surface for several minutes already yet felt fine, aside from being tired. If the area were heavily radioactive, he would expect to start feeling sick and disoriented almost immediately. Yet none of the symptoms of radiation poisoning that he knew about were present. At least not yet.
Doesn’t matter anyway, he thought. If I’ve been exposed, I can’t do anything about it. So Leonard kept moving, finding himself once again in pursuit of a goal that required climbing over, under and through debris and destruction.
2:18 PM, March 29, 2038
Rachel Walsh
Rachel walked along the highway, heading north with Sam keeping close to her side. He was calmer than usual, as though he sensed that they weren’t going on a normal walk. Even though Rachel hadn’t been around him much, he was always friendly and obedient to her when she was home on breaks and holidays, treating her just like the rest of the family.
She figured that at a brisk walking pace, they’d be able to make it to DC in two or three weeks, maybe sooner if she could find a working vehicle. Fat chance, she thought. Might be able to find a bike, but good luck trying to start a car after this mess.
In addition to the vast amounts of destruction that the nuclear weapons unleashed upon physical objects, they also released an invisible energy wave called an electromagnetic pulse, or EMP for short. This huge burst of electromagnetic radiation was harmless to people but devastating to even the simplest of electrical circuits. By generating huge voltage and current spikes in electrical equipment, even most electronics that were turned off were burned out due to the intensity of the bombs.
The only types of electronics that survived were ones that were properly shielded from the pulses, such as the LED flashlights that were kept in a copper mesh lined locker. Simple electrical devices that didn’t rely upon complex circuitry to work would fare better in the face of repeated EMP blasts, but the scarcity of such simple devices in modern times meant that this didn’t change much of the situation at all.
Thirty years ago, a report was commissioned to investigate the potential damage to the United States if it suffered from an EMP attack. The results of the report weren’t widely covered in the media due to the disturbing conclusion that the infrastructure of the nation was completely vulnerable to even a moderate EMP attack on a limited area. One of the final conclusions of the commission revealed that society would most likely collapse in a week or less if just the nation’s power grid was taken offline for extended period of time due to an EMP event.
Over thirty years some improvements had been made to the infrastructure, but hardening against an EMP event still remained at the bottom of the priority list. Thus, when multiple high energy pulses occurred across the planet, it wasn’t just the USA that suffered from their lack of foresight. If that wasn’t enough to deal with, the blasts from the nuclear weapons themselves dealt a final, fatal blow to just about everything that survived through the electromagnetic pulses.
Once Rachel got a few miles down the highway out of the city, the destruction started to lessen and the highway’s condition improved. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a completely positive thing. While it meant that Rachel had a smoother walk, the number of intact cars was growing, forcing Rachel to pick her way through them, and occasionally having to walk through the center median of the highway just to get past them. Rachel didn’t bother to check and see if any of the cars would work, not wanting to waste valuable travel time. Most cars manufactured since the late 1980’s had computer chips integrated into their designs, which meant all modern vehicles were disabled by the EMP unless they were properly shielded.
The only thing that’s going to have that type of shielding is a military transport, Rachel thought, as she and Sam continued down the highway, slowly winding their way north.
1:18 AM, March 30, 2038
Marcus Warden
As Marcus slept, he dreamed. In his dream, he was back on the mountain, laying in the dirt and watching the strange man-like creature running across a field. As he watched it through his binoculars, the light glinted off of the silver lines across the creature’s body, creating flashes in the afternoon sun. Instead of leaping a fence and disappearing into the trees like it had earlier, the creature stopped this time, right in the middle of the field.
Marcus felt himself press his body closer to the ground, trying to make his outline as small as possible. The creature stood still for a moment, its head tilted slightly, almost as if it was smelling something. Marcus felt his stomach twist into knots as the creature slowly turned to its right, facing towards where he was hiding. Its head was still pointed upwards, the nose moving up and down rapidly.
Before Marcus could make out any details, the creature’s head snapped down and it stared straight at him, the eyes peering directly into his. Marcus’s entire body went numb and he felt his hairs stand on end as a chill traveled down his spine. He closed his eyes and lowered the binoculars, willing the creature to stop looking at him. It can’t know I’m here. I’m miles away. There’s no way it knows I’m here!
Before Marcus had the time to open his eyes, he heard a faint rustle and low, slow breathing coming from directly in front of him. He slowly opened his eyes and found his worst fear standing no more than ten feet away. Somehow the creature had traveled several miles in a matter of seconds, all without even creating a sonic boom as it pa
ssed the speed of sound.
Marcus looked at the creature’s feet, his eyes slowly moving up the body to stare it in the face. Half of its toenails were gone, ripped out at the roots with dried blood and a silver substance covering the unprotected nail beds. The creature’s legs, torso and arms were in similar condition, with large scrapes partially covered with a silver substance mixed with dried and slowly oozing blood. The face, though, was the true horror. Half of the creature’s head was gone; part of the jaw, the nose and a large piece of its skull had been replaced by a glittering sheet of silver. While the strange substance almost covered the wounds, it had a slow rhythm to it, pulsating slowly and revealing pieces of mangled flesh in spots where it didn’t quite cover them up. The creature stared at Marcus with its… whatever they were. Where the eyes used to be, there were now deeply sunken pits, the pupils of the eyes replaced with the silver substance. It stared at Marcus, unmoving save for the slow, steady breathing.
Marcus met the creature’s gaze, his heart beating so fast he was sure it would launch him up into the air from the force of it hitting the ground. Several seconds passed with the two looking at each other. With a loud crack, the creature’s mouth opened, and a shimmering cloud erupted from it, rising into the air and descending down onto Marcus.
Marcus screamed as the cloud enveloped him, feeling the biting and stinging of whatever the cloud was made of. He felt it envelop him, squeezing and suffocating him, filling his mouth, nose and lungs. He tried to breathe but couldn’t. Marcus struggled but found himself paralyzed, unable to move anything save for his eyes. As his vision tunneled, he let out one last gasp, trying to scream.
Marcus awoke with a bloodcurdling screech, grabbing his machete as he jumped up from his bedroll. He twirled around in the dark, holding the machete high, coughing to clear his lungs from the imaginary cloud that had enveloped him in his dream. Marcus’s head began to clear from the fog of sleep and he dropped the machete and put his hands on his knees, bending over and breathing deeply.
“What… the hell… just happened?” he gasped. He now realized that it had all been a dream, but it was so visceral and lifelike that his heart was still racing and he could swear that the face of the creature was still in front of him with its mouth wide open. After a few moments of heavy breathing, his heart began to slow and he sat on the ground, feeling around for his machete and his bedroll. Finding both, he sat on the bedroll, motionless, machete perched on his folded legs as he stared into the darkness, on edge for any sound or movement in the night.
“So much for sleep tonight.”
11:47 AM, March 30, 2038
Rachel Walsh
The rest of the day and night passed uneventfully as Rachel and Sam wound their way north. Occasionally Rachel thought she saw a silver shimmer in the distance, but nothing came of the sightings, so she continued walking with Sam glued to her leg, his ears constantly perked, keeping his eyes open for any dangers as well. They made camp in the back of an 18-wheeler that was pulled over in a rest area, Rachel making good use of the sleeper bed while Sam dozed in the front passenger seat.
The next morning, they got up and continued on their way, when Sam began to whine, looking ahead of them to a small town where their highway and another major highway crossed paths. Rachel didn’t see anything so she kept walking, but she unslung her rifle, keeping it ready in case there was something ahead. As they drew closer to the town, Sam continued to whine until Rachel whispered harshly at him.
“Sam, hush!” She had heard it too. The unmistakable deep rumble of an idling diesel engine came from ahead in the town, no more than a quarter mile away. Rachel and Sam moved off of the highway and lower into the center median, keeping out of sight as much as possible. Rachel crouched as much as she could, given the load she was carrying, and jogged forward with Sam right on her heels. Ever since she had fussed at him, he hadn’t let out a single whine. Jeremy’s training was well worth it, Rachel thought, remembering back to the long nights of carrying Sam to a local dog trainer. It had cost them close to a thousand dollars in lessons and countless afternoons of practice sessions, but Sam had learned how to respond to voice commands from her and Jeremy. The thought of her late husband threatened to bring tears, but Rachel clamped down on the emotions, focusing on the task at hand.
Rachel and Sam made it into town and climbed up the embankment, lying in the grass at the top, searching for the source of the noise. The sound of the engine was much louder, now. It can’t be more than a hundred feet away… but where? As she surveyed the buildings, trying to get a sense of where the sound came from, she heard someone whistle, followed by some garbled words. People?! Rachel couldn’t believe her ears. Not only was there a working vehicle, but there was the unmistakable sound of people talking, too. It must be people, unless those bastards taught themselves to speak. The thought brought a grim smirk to her face. Only one way to find out.
Rachel climbed out of the median, signaling Sam to stay still. She crept forward, rifle raised, and thumbed the safety off. She followed a side street to the source of the noise and slid her back along a wall. Rachel peeked her head out from behind the building and pulled it back just as quickly, not daring to believe what she had seen.
Taking a deep breath, Rachel aimed the rifle into the air and squeezed the trigger two times in quick succession, then leaned her head around the corner. Two men in military uniforms raced out of a fire station they were parked in front of, taking up position to the sides of the Humvee that was parked out front, its engine idling. One of them called out at her in a loud voice, cutting through the roar of the engine. “Throw down your weapon and walk out slowly! Comply in five seconds or we will open fire!”
Rachel breathed in deeply again and shouted back. “Civilian scientist! Auth code Echo Echo Four One Seven Star!” The two men glanced at each other, confused. After a few seconds of exchanging glances and shrugs, they got up from their positions and began circling towards her, their rifles at the ready, but no longer aimed directly at her.
“Stand down, ma’am, we’re coming to you.”
Rachel kept the safety off on her rifle, but lowered it towards the ground as she slowly turned the corner of the building to face the two men.
“Who the hell are you, ma’am, and how do you know the authorization code?”
“Rachel Walsh. I’m a civilian scientist working in DC. I was on leave in Atlanta when the attack occurred.”
Another glance was exchanged between the men, and they lowered their weapons further. The one in front approached her, signaling his partner to remain where he was. Rachel accepted his outstretched hand, giving it a firm shake as they looked into each other’s eyes. Nodding once, the man returned her greeting.
“Nice to meet you Ms. Walsh. I’m Captain Waters, that’s Lieutenant Roche. If you don’t mind my asking, how do you find yourself out here?”
Rachel didn’t waste any time. “I’m on my way back to DC, Captain, and I need to get there as fast as possible. Are you alone, or on a mission?”
Captain Waters turned his head to look at Roche, then looked back at Rachel. “On your way to DC? Ma’am, you do realize what’s happened, right?”
Rachel found herself growing impatient but tried to keep her emotions in check. If she was going to get help from these two, she’d need to be patient and calm, appealing to their sense of duty. “Captain, I’m intimately aware of what happened. I lost my husband and daughter in the attack. That doesn’t matter, though. I must get to my lab in Washington as quickly as possible.”
Captain Waters began to speak when another voice rang out. A young man in his early twenties and wearing a lab coat thundered out of the fire station, pushing his glasses up on his face as he nearly fell racing down the stairs. “Captain! You have to look at this!” The man held up a vial of liquid as he ran along, skidding to a halt in front of the captain.
“Captain, take a look at this! I found evidence of –“ The man stopped as he noticed Rachel standing next to
him. “Oh, uh, hello!” Captain Waters took the man by his arm and led him a few steps away from Rachel. “Calm down, Russell. Now tell me, what did you find?”
“Captain,” the man called Russell started, glancing back and forth between Rachel and the captain. “It’s not what I found, it’s what I didn’t find.” Russell was talking very fast, tripping over his words in the process.
“Slow down, Russell.” Waters put a hand on the man’s shoulder as though the mere act would help Russell calm down enough to speak slower. “What do you mean you didn’t find anything?”
“It’s exactly as I said, Captain. I was performing a wide battery of tests, and I can find absolutely no trace of –“
“Radiation.” Rachel had moved up behind the pair, interrupting Russell during his explanation. Both Captain Waters and Russell turned to look at her, Russell sputtering in confusion. “Right?”
“Yes!” Russell nearly shouted, “But how did you know?”
“It’s part of what I was trying to explain to your captain, here. I work in a lab in DC, and I must get there immediately. I’m afraid I’m not authorized to give out any information, which I could prove if I still had my ID. I lost it when… during the attack.”