by Mia Frances
"Attack… Confirmed… Launched against military and government installations… Albany and surrounding areas… Expected at 5:35 pm Eastern Standard time… Seek shelter… Not a test…"·the voice said in deadly earnest. "Repeat. This is not a test. Seek immediate shelter and…"
The words ended in mid sentence, replaced by ear-splitting static.
Alex slammed on the brake, the car fishtailing all over the road, finally skidding to a halt. Her knuckles turned white as she held tightly to the wheel. Slowly her eyes moved to the dash and the clock. It was 5:35!
Chapter 2
Alex gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief. As the horror of what was happening began to sink in, she envisioned rolling clouds of thunder, black with smoke, rising high in the sky, gale force winds and raging fires raining death and destruction down on the city she called home.
"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures, He…He…" a lump formed in Cat's throat, choking off the words. Her hands shook violently as she brought them to her face. She covered her eyes and sobbed. Judgement day was at hand! God was unleashing His wrath against the world!
"Oh God! Brian," a hysterical voice called. "I've got to get to Brian!" Tori cried out in despair.
"This isn't happening," Alex reassured herself, closing her eyes tightly. But when she reopened them a second later, she was still surrounded by forest and the sobs of her sisters still echoed in her ears.
A memory flashed in her brain, a long forgotten piece of trivia, about a radio show in the 1930s that had caused a panic.
She lunged for the radio dial and began frantically turning it first one way then the other. Maybe it was nothing more than a radio drama. They still had those didn't they? One about a world war, similar to the one broadcast years ago about a Martian invasion.
Numbers flashed on the screen. First AM then FM. But there were no voices to be heard, only the mocking crackle of static. She pressed the seek and scan buttons, but the static persisted. Hope waning, Alex stared at the radio with a mixture of horror and rage, then turned it off with such force that the knob broke off in her hand.
Had it really happened?
Those ignorant, fucking bastards. They'd torn up treaties and started a new arms race. Damn them and their goddamn WMDs. What kind of attack was it? Nuclear warheads? Poison gas? Biological weapons? A deadly plague? If hell existed, she hoped there was a special place reserved for politicians and scientists who created and wielded the implements of mankind's destruction.
"I want to go home," Lindsey whimpered.
Alex turned to face the seven terrified children. Even the littlest ones, Shawn and Derek, were crying. Could they possibly understand what was happening? "It's all right," she assured them. "Everything's going to be fine." She forced herself to smile, even as tears trickled down her cheeks.
She searched each small face, hoping her words had reassured them. Her gaze came to rest on Deana. The girl was barely 13, but stared back at her aunt with the countenance of world-weary sage. "Liar," they silently accused as she blinked back tears. Nothing would ever be all right again!
Alex averted her eyes, biting her bottom lip, hoping the pain would suppress the screams struggling to escape her throat. Derek made his way over the legs of the others, wrapping his arms around his mother's shoulders, clinging to her in fear, but she didn't react or respond.
"Mommy," he whimpered, pressing his head into her neck. Her body went rigid.
Alex turned to Tori. She was staring blankly ahead. Her lips were moving; repeating Brian's name over and over, but there was no sound. Alex heard clicking and seeking the source saw Cat frantically fingering a rosary. The expression on her face one of abject terror. Alex gently laid her hand on her sister's, but Cat was too far gone to notice as she feverishly rubbed the beads.
Alex shook her head. Unbelievable! Unable to face the reality of the situation, they were trying to shut out the world, including their children. It was obvious; they intended to dump the responsibility for their kids' survival on her? No fucking way! They'd better shitcan the crazy act pronto!
Exasperated, Alex closed her eyes. Images of Matt flickering in her brain. For a moment she yielded to despair, but then, forcing the vision away, opened them again. Perhaps he'd escaped the city, leaving the office early. There was hope, there had to be. If he was alive, he'd come to the camp. Her job was to be there waiting! If he was dead, then there'd be time enough to grieve later on. Right now her main concern was the living, the welfare of her sisters and their children. No matter how much she wanted to beat her breast and wail, she couldn't. Not when so much, their safety, their very lives, depended on her.
Alex tried to think, but her brain wouldn't function; thoughts appeared like bursts of light that quickly faded, disappearing without a trace. The voice had said to seek shelter. But where could they go to find a safe haven in this wilderness? The camp was still 35 miles away and except for a few clusters of houses now and again, there was little between here and the Village of Indian Lake. Something jolted her memory; there were a couple of houses just ahead. They'd parked in front of one once, when she and Matt crossed the river to explore a cave.
Her foot pressed the accelerator, tires screeching, leaving a trail of rubber on the pavement. There was no time to waste. Though the announcer hadn't said so, she suspected the bombs had been nuclear rather then some sort of conventional weapon or lethal gas. Why else would the local radio stations have gone off the air? She was sure that whatever happened was more widespread than just the small area of upstate New York where Albany was, otherwise she'd be picking up faint broadcasts from Boston, Montreal, Toronto or New York City. If they hit Albany, it was only because it was the state capital. It had no strategic importance. There were no military installations anywhere near it. Military installations? Holy shit! There was a big military base, Ft. Drum, about 100 miles northwest of here as the crow flies. It would probably be a prime target for an enemy. But that wasn't the worst of it. Albany was 85 miles south of them; West Point, another likely target, was 95 miles south of Albany. And the largest air reserve base in the country was in Westover, Massachusetts about 150 miles east of them. And what about New York City and Boston? Worst-case scenario…they were in the middle of a deadly triangle of radiation. They had to find cover quickly before the clouds began dropping their lethal cargo of radioactive dust.
Alex looked at the distant peaks, cloaked in their vibrant fall array and at the dark clouds that hovered above them, moving menacingly closer. They'd predicted rain today, the storm front coming in from the Midwest. It wasn't supposed to clear until late tomorrow night. Maybe the rain would buy them some time, dissipating the mushroom clouds, confining the contamination to the areas around the blasts, or was that just wishful thinking?
Her breathing grew strained, chest tightening as a wave of panic swept over her. If they did manage to survive, come through this alive, what kind of world would be waiting for them? What kind of existence? A place where the living envied the dead? Is that what lay in store for them?
The very idea of such a war, with its devastation and death, seemed unthinkable. Yet more and more nations worked to acquire WMDs. Countries with bomb-building technology didn't hesitate to sell it to others, providing, of course, the price was right. It didn't matter whether the regimes were racists, fascists, religious fanatics, or headed by bloodthirsty tyrants, just so long as they had the money. No one believed anyone would actually be crazy enough to instigate such a conflict, but obviously someone had.
The saber-rattling rhetoric, the threats and counter threats, were never meant to lead to war. It was merely a struggle for power and influence, a stupid game of posturing and intimidation played by foolhardy old men. With macho bravado, adversaries faced each other across the abyss, their jeers and threats bringing the world to the brink of disaster. They were playing a treacherous global game of chicken, waiting for the other side to blink, the future of mankind hanging
in the balance. It was just a game, it was never supposed to come to this, and yet how could it have ended any other way?
War was far more deadly now than ever before. Conflicts fought with conventional weapons and armies facing each other on a battlefield were a thing of the past. Thanks to modern technology, war had been elevated to new heights of savagery. Technological advances were used with unerring precision to vanquish nations and decimate populations. The use of satellites and long-range missiles allowed the carnage of battle to extend far beyond the front lines, reaching even the remotest corners of the globe.
Alex was shaking her head at the stupidity of it all when she suddenly realized that she had no idea what started the war. There was no mention of hostilities on the morning news. That was only 9 hours ago. What the hell happened? But peace was a fragile thing…easily destroyed. There were certainly enough trouble spots dotting the global landscape. But this?
What kind of crackpot cretin could have done something so insane? The US? Russia? China? North Korea? Israel? Iran? India? Pakistan? Any one of them could be responsible. Isolated fires had been burning around the globe for ages, fanned and fueled by hatred. But now, in the age of mass communication and social media, those flames could be spread far and wide, setting off a conflagration that could destroy the world. What the fuck were they thinking? Was this the mutually assured destruction the military experts and national security types talked about? The premise that since both sides would be annihilated, stockpiling nukes would deter war. Yeah right! Some deterrent. Everybody dies!
She let up on the gas. It was delusional to think they could outrun the fallout. They were going to die. Period…end of story! If not today, then tomorrow, or the day after that, or next week, or next month. They couldn't escape it. They were doomed! Why try to survive at all? The car slowed. From behind her she could hear Derek. He was still whimpering. Tears filled her eyes. Alex could decide her own fate, but what right did she have to make that decision for the kids? Didn't they have a right to live, to grow? Wasn't living preferable to death?
She could remember her mother, lying in the hospital, her body racked with pain as the cancer spread to every organ. Time and time again the doctors had told them she wouldn't last the night. Yet she always did, clinging to life with a tenacity that confounded them all. While her children prayed for God to end her pain, she fought to stay alive. Alex took a deep breath. As long as there was life, there was hope. The children were too young to have their lives cut short this way. She owed them a chance to survive! Perhaps the fate that awaited them wasn't the hell she envisioned. And even if it was, death would still be there, patiently waiting to claim them if they failed.
Stomping on the gas, she frantically searched for some place, any place, to take refuge. Up ahead on the left, partially hidden by a tall stand of pine, she saw a dull green roof. Hitting the brakes, she pulled into the rutted dirt road that led off the highway. "Thank God," she whispered in relief. It was a ramshackle old building, its paint peeling, the yard around it littered with junk. The minibus rolled to a stop not 50 feet away from the front door.
She was fumbling with the seatbelt buckle when the quiet was shattered by an explosive crack of gunfire. Screams filled the vehicle as she jammed the gearshift into reverse and pressing the pedal to the floor, tried to get them out of the line of fire. Her heart was pounding like a triphammer. She'd never been so scared in her life! Branches scrapped along the fenders, tires disappearing into the ruts that pocked the gravel surface. The wheel jerked one way, then the other as she tried to guide the minibus back to the safety of the blacktop. There was another loud boom, this time a hail of pellets struck the side of the vehicle, and ricocheted off. Pulling on the steering wheel with all her might as she hit solid pavement, Alex veered the bus back around. Then threw it into drive, and took off at breakneck speed. Her hands shook, breath coming in strained gasps.
"Is everyone OK?" she shouted, her voice straining to be heard above the frightened chorus of sobs.
No one answered. She quickly glanced over at her sisters. Tori was cowering against the door. Cat was sitting perfectly still, too terror-stricken to move. Both appeared unharmed. She'd barely glanced back to the road when she saw the other house coming up quickly on the left. She slowed the car, pulling off onto the opposite shoulder a little way beyond it. She breathed in deeply as she lifted up on the metal handle and opened the door.
A hand grabbed her wrist, holding her back. It was Cat; her cheeks were streaked with dark rivulets formed by tears mingling with mascara. She tried to speak, but the words were unintelligible. Alex gently patted her hand, then pried her fingers loose, sliding off the seat and out the door.
Alex stared at the frame house, watching for signs of life inside. Except for the remains of an old car set back on the lawn, there was no other vehicle around. She crossed the road, running like a terrified rabbit, then took cover behind a large maple, trying to catch her breath before going on. Summoning her courage, she peered around the trunk, eyes fixed on the darkened windows. The shades were drawn, giving no hint as to who or what might be inside. She hesitated before going on, still shaking from the last experience. Fearful she'd again become target practice for some crazy with a gun. Moving slowly, she crossed the yard, ready to bolt at the slightest hint of trouble. When she neared the corner of the house, she heard what sounded like voices. Expecting the worst, Alex stepped up on the porch. Though the voices grew louder, she appeared to be in no imminent danger. Floorboards creaked under the weight of each hesitant step as she came nearer and nearer the door. Something crashed against it from the inside, startling her.
"Go away!" a terrified female voice screamed at her.
"We don't mean you any harm," Alex assured her. "Please help us. We've got young children!"
"Go away!" the woman demanded.
"Please let us in," she pleaded, banging her fist against the door. "Please! We'll die out here!"
"I've got my own family to worry about," the voice insisted. "I've got a gun and I'll use it if I have to!" she threatened. "Now get the hell away from here."
"Please," Alex begged, watching in alarm as the ominous grey clouds in the west inched closer. "For God's sake, at least take the children in. I've got money, a gold necklace, and a diamond ring. I'll give them to you."
"Don't you understand," the voice screamed back at her, "I can't help you! I have my own children to think of. Now get out of here or I swear I'll shoot!"
"Don't do this. Don't turn us away," she implored, collapsing to her knees in front of the door, her fists beating frantically against the wood.
There was a loud crash as the glass of a nearby window shattered and the black barrel of a gun emerged through the jagged hole in the pane. "I'm warning you!" the voice bellowed, "I'll shoot! I'll shoot!"
Seeing the futility of her situation, Alex struggled to her feet and backed off the porch. She ran blindly across the grass and out of the yard. A few feet from the minibus, she stumbled and fell sobbing to the pavement. In the space of a few minutes, the foundation of civilization had come crumbling down and with it every semblance of humanity. The law of the jungle prevailed now!
Where could they find sanctuary? To the west lay nothing but a desolate stretch of highway. They could turn back to North Creek, but the chances of finding shelter there were remote. Behind the shuttered windows and locked doors were frightened people, willing to kill to insure their own survival. The clock was ticking by the seconds and minutes. Time was running out. The clouds were coming closer.
Alex stood up. That's when she saw it…a black spot nestled amid the green pine trees and grey rock. She moved slowly to the shoulder of the road. Some 300 feet across the rushing Hudson River and 100 feet up the cliffs, lay the refuge she was seeking. She stared down the embankment, then across the water. There were large rocks protruding above the surface. The water was clear and from her vantage point, she had little difficulty seeing the bottom. But how deep was it? Two
feet? Three feet? More? She and Matt had gone exploring there once. But it had been late August and the water level, after weeks of scorching sun and no rain, had been low. Except for an occasional deep sinkhole here and there, the water never reached more than an inch or two above her knees. It looked deeper than that now. Perhaps too deep for a small child to cross without being swept away by the rapids.
She tried to recall what the cave looked like. She remembered it being quite large. Maybe 40 feet long and 12 to 15 feet across. It wasn't really a cave. Not in the traditional sense. It was actually a tunnel formed over thousands of years. Swollen by spring runoffs, snowmelts, and torrential mountain storms, a stream had carved a hole in the cliff. The water flowed through an uphill opening at one end and then out the other, cascading down the escarpment to the river below. Inside, the cave roof was low, no more than five feet tall at its highest point. Along the walls were piles of rocks, thrown there by some ancient deluge. They could take shelter there until the worst of the danger had passed. The only thing that troubled her was that it was open on both ends. They'd have to barricade the openings with rocks, branches, and deadfall. That would offer them a little protection. Keep out some of the radioactive dust. But there was nothing they could do about the water. Contaminated by the wind and rain, there was no way to stop it from coming in. Still, it was the only dim hope in a world of grim prospects.