Nuclear Winter

by Td Barnes

  “Mind if I borrow your sidearm, deputy?” Bradley calmly asked. Holly upholstered his pistol and handed it handle first to Bradley.

  “Is that this lad’s car?” He asked, nodding towards the Mustang.

  “Yes, it is, soldier boy,” Charlie defiantly said before Holly could answer.

  “Good,” Bradley said. He briskly headed towards the car with the deputy’s pistol in his hand. Charlie followed in surprise, wondering Bradley’s intentions.

  Bradley said nothing more while walking to the car where, in mid-stride, he shot a 45-caliber bullet through its engine block and turned to walk back towards his deputy. Reaching the deputy, he wordlessly handed him back his pistol before calmly turning to face Charlie standing in stunned disbelief beside his Mustang. He finally realized what had happened and ran screaming back towards Bradley and the others, “You bastard, you shot my car.”

  Bradley first smiled at Charlie and then transformed his face into a glare that stopped Charlie in his tracks. “Listen up you snot-nose twerp. You just now turned in your car as the deputy asked. You will not need it anymore. A word to wise. If you do not want to see me turn to Cujo on meth, do not ever physically threaten me again. You might be dead before I think to ask you what the hell you want. I am a soldier and kill is what I do.”

  Charlie started to say something but paused when a loud sonic boom rumbled and bounced off the barren mountains surrounding the town. It had taken a moment before the crowd recognized the sound of a plane that they could not see because of the darkness. “We still have an Air Force,” someone shouted. “The sound of freedom,” Bradley thought before the crowd let out a roar of enthusiastic approval. Bradley realized that the noise of the sonic boom had defused the confrontation and waited until the sound of the plane faded before turning to return to the motel. “At least we still have an Air Force,” he thought. The deputy slipped him his holster and pistol. “You’d better keep this,” he said. “I have more.”

  “Colonel, what about the radiation fallout?” Someone called out of the darkness.

  Bradley noted how the townspeople always called him by his rank even though out of uniform. He recognized their seeing him an authoritarian figure and decided that under the circumstances to keep it that way.

  “The detonation occurred high enough in the atmosphere that I doubt it was a problem. An EMP spreads horizontally in space rather than forming a mushroom cloud. I imagine with this being a former Nevada Test Site community some of you still have dosimeters and Geiger counters lying around. I suggest you get them operational in case of radiation that we do not know about.”

  “Who is responsible for this attack? Terrorists?” The deputy asked.

  “We may never know. Iran believes that the coming of the last Islamic messiah, the Shiites’ 12th Imam Mahdi is near with Iran called upon to welcome his arrival. They think Iran must lead the way for a worldwide Islamic revolution so I would lay my money on it being somehow related to the situation in Iran.”

  “Those bastards,” a nearby woman said. “Jimmy Carter should have nuked them when we had an excuse.”

  Bradley looked up into the heavens. “You will find many Americans about now that will agree with you. I doubt if Iran could have done this, but someone did it for them. I guess that most likely China is somehow involved. China may have done something desperate to save their supply of oil coming out of Iran.” He did not add his suspecting that Iran no longer existed.

  The crowd of residents appeared eager to learn his opinion on what occurred to create this situation. “I don’t know who is responsible for what happened, but be glad that you are not in Las Vegas,” he continued. ”Roughly, two million people will start scavenging for food and medicine before the week is out. They do not have electricity, and that means no water about now. Can you imagine a family of four living in a house where they cannot flush the toilet? We at least have a temporary supply if there is water in the tanks that I saw on the hill north of town. I also noted water in a marshland just outside of town and some hot springs about three miles out. I am sure some of the ranches are using windmills, so at least with them, we can pump water. Food is a concern that we need to work on.”

  Bradley wanted to join the others in feeling excited at hearing the jets buzz over the town, but he knew no one could do anything to help them at this point. The flight most likely observed the town’s condition and let its people know the Air Force cared — nothing more. This made sense considering that the town housed families directly connected to nearby black projects of the Air Force.

  He returned to the El Portal Motel where he found Stacey napping. This surprised him under the circumstances and given her concerns for the kids.

  He wished he could do the same, but with it near dawn, he chose to ponder on how to handle the many confused people needing to know what to expect. How did he tell them this being the end of the life they once knew?

  He, being a stranger to this part of the world, did not have a clue the availability of resources. Food came to mind first thing. He wondered how anyone stranded in the middle of the desert could possibly feed the people in Beatty. This remained on his mind when he too dozed off in his chair. He awoke a moment later and decided that Stacey had the right idea. He lay down beside her to nap the remaining few minutes until sunrise.

  Bradley’s nap failed to happen. He tried, but his mind would not let him rest. He drifted into a hypnagogic state where his mind dredged up the scenarios that he used in doomsday presentations at DIA.

  According to the movies and books about nuclear winter, automobiles stopped running, planes crashed, power grids went down, explosions occurred, and firestorms swept the earth.

  Much of the blame for this lay with catastrophic effects repeatedly publicized by famous astronomer Carl Sagan and his fellow activist scientists with their apocalyptic predictions concerning the moral and psychological aspects of nuclear winter. Even today, apocalyptic visions of the environmental effects of nuclear war remained a part of popular culture. Bradley appreciated the cognoscenti of nuclear war having entertainment value; however, he considered such doomsday predictions ignorant and dangerous propaganda.

  He believed radioactive fallout and the destruction of the stratospheric ozone layer to be far short of real doomsday proportions. Nonetheless, humanity faced near annihilation because American society has grown so dependent on computer and other electrical systems that they created their own Achilles' heel of vulnerability.

  Ironically, they did so at a much higher level than did those of other less developed nations. There could possibly be deaths from uncertain climatic effects, but this presented a small danger compared with the incalculable millions who would die from starvation caused by disastrous shortages of essentials of modern agriculture.

  His thoughts made a complete circle that ended up with the same questions they started with. “Being in a desert, how could he or anyone else possibly feed the people in this town? Could Carl Sagan be correct in his predictions?”

  Tom and Stacey awoke a little after sunup and headed back towards the Exchange Club. “Tom - look, they have set up a food line.” Women were carrying food and ingredients from their homes to a group of men setting up a barbecue grill and wooden dining tables. Robinson saw Tom and Stacey approaching and hurried over to greet them and introduce herself to Stacey. She turned with pride to what the townspeople had taken upon themselves to do.

  The sunrise topped above the Bare Mountain peak east of town where its light erased the heavenly light spectacular from view. The mayor looked up at the early morning sky before speaking. “I expected it to be much different from this when the sun rose. It is merely another hot day in the desert other than being without electricity,” she said dryly to no one in particular. She turned to face Bradley.

  “Thank you, Colonel, for putting that young whippersnapper into his place. He grew up wealthy, and it shows. His parents are not like that at all. I fear they spoiled that lad miserably.”


  Bradley felt an immediate liking for the mayor. He recognized her as being level-headed, a no-nonsense leader. “I thought it better to set him straight now than later during an emergency. Mayor, this is your turf, so I need your support. I need you to organize a meeting with everyone with first responder training, volunteer firefighters, law enforcement, and any medical personnel. We need to talk to the ranchers and farmers about food supplies and obtaining a windmill to pump water for the town. You are bound to have porta-potties scattered around town. Get them consolidated for the people. Food is our biggest hurdle with there being no more deliveries. We need to start the building of greenhouses immediately to raise our own garden products. I mentioned this to the deputy. I recommended that you establish a militia immediately. You can use the deputy sheriff personnel from the National Nevada Security Site. It will get mean in a hurry, and you must be in control. I meant with the young man earlier to demonstrate that civil rights and habeas corpus no longer apply. We are on our own. We have a name for what we are facing. It is TEOTWAWKI. It means the end of the world as we know it.”

  The mayor smiled to herself at Bradley’s repeated use of the word we. As he said, with no military, it could get mean. She knew about the carjacking of the family in the casino parking lot. It relieved her to have Bradley, someone trained and familiar with the events to come. “Plus,” she thought. “I witnessed his demonstrating the willingness to confront any challenges.”

  “Will our radios ever work again?” She asked.

  Bradley thought about the things that one took for granted that the EMP erased from their lives. Most of them would never again open a faucet and have hot water, flip a light switch and have light, have newspaper delivery, or can hop into the car and run to the grocery store. The EMP took away everything — refrigerators or deep freezers to preserve food, air conditioner to keep them cold, electric furnaces to keep them warm, telephones, radios, and television.

  He said, “Negative. Most likely, the EMP took out any radio and TV stations, so even if your radio still worked, there would be no signals to which to tune. However, answering your question, no, the EMP most likely destroyed your home radio. The problem is that turning the radios or any electronic device on or off bears no effect on the destructive force of the EMP. People who do not know any better relate EMP to a powerful bolt of lightning. While the results are alike--burning out electrical equipment with powerful electronic surges--, EMP is more akin to a super-powerful radio wave. Thus, strategies based on using lightning arrestors or lightning-rod grounding techniques are destined to fail in protecting equipment from EMP. An EMP destroys electronics because the high magnetic field creates large potential differences among the delicate conductors. This creates electric arcs between them and consequently burns them. It effectively breaks the electronics. Having your radios or electronic devices turned off provided no protection against this. Magnetic pulses are a phenomenon producible by the sun and many conventional electronic devices. However, in this case, someone deliberately zapped us with an NEMP, a nuclear electrical, magnetic pulse rather than our experience a solar event.”

  Robinson focused her gaze on the barren mountain north of town where the antennas for the old television translator remained. The aluminum tubing of the antenna reflected the sun directly at the town during sunrise each day. “What should we do, Colonel? The whorehouse burning down a few years ago is the worst thing that ever happened to my town.”

  Bradley followed Robinson’s gaze. Both found it easier to focus on the situation by looking away from the people milling around the small town in shock and confusion. "Mayor,” he murmured with deep compassion. “I have spent many years on military planning staffs where we worked up wargaming scenarios. COA, Course of Action development is a vital part of intelligence preparation of the battlefield and is a reliable way of looking at the possibilities and choosing anticipated sequels applicable to our scenario. What I know will break many hearts; destroy dreams in every imaginable way.”

  The mayor noticed the sun shining in Bradley’s eyes and herded him towards a picnic table beneath a nearby shade tree. “Everyone needs to know this. Please tell it where everyone can hear.”

  Robinson, a bit overweight, allowed Bradley to help her climb on top of a picnic table where he joined her. She shouted to gain the attention of the people standing in line for food and those already eating. “Everybody, listen up. Colonel Bradley will explain our situation,” she said. “The colonel cannot speak loudly, so please crowd up close.”

  While Robinson introduced him, Bradley scanned the town and the people gathering to learn the latest. “The United States is under attack by someone detonating a nuclear bomb in the atmosphere, producing an electromagnetic pulse that has wiped out our nation’s power grid and virtually all electronics. This is something that I am familiar with, so listen up. I am not going to sugarcoat our horrible situation. Those of you only now arriving will note that the sheriff has placed guards on medical supplies, petroleum products, and food supplies. This is because we are facing a total catastrophic collapse of society. Imagine in Las Vegas, where the people live shoulder to shoulder. Fortunately, the attack did not occur during rush hour traffic or during the day with people at work, leaving them stranded away from home. In the end, this makes no difference. Most will not have more than a day or two of food in the house. They will not have running water, toilets will not work, no trash pick-up, no television, radio, or even electricity. Those people will get the hell out of town with few choices of where or even how to go anywhere. Only a few older model cars will have survived the EMP. We have the only highway headed north so they will arrive here in Beatty in older vehicles most likely needing repair. They will demand food, water, gasoline and any number of things that you are unable to give them. They will arrive by the thousands, and they will be desperate. It will not be a pretty scene.”

  Robinson slowly shook her head while envisioning this occurring. The crowd of people stood silent, most of them unable yet to comprehend the state of their situation. Those standing in the chow line stood motionless; those eating ceased doing so. Those arriving crowd up close so they could hear better.

  Bradley knew that what he said next would not kick in immediately, but he hoped the people would remember his words after the shock wore off. Bradley spoke with firm conviction when he continued. “These people are not going to starve to death quietly. Every one of them will try something to survive or even hang on one more day. Humans are survivors. They are intelligent, ruthless, and deadly omnivores. You have heard of a redneck. Well, even rednecks are not stupid or incompetent. You will find them or any humans to be the most dangerous predators on earth. Hungary tigers surrounding you are safer than hungry people. The sad and most dangerous thing is that these real people could be your neighbors, mothers, fathers, daughters, or grandkids. When you look them in the face, it's going to be very hard to pull a trigger even to save your life or that of your family.”

  Stacey could not bear hearing anymore and moved away.

  Robinson and Bradley both paused to watch a restored classic Chevrolet enter the town and line up at the gas pump, hoping that somehow it could still pump gasoline. Those gathered followed the direction of their gaze. “When the people start arriving from Las Vegas the numbers will crush you if you let them. Suppose that you have stored a finite amount of food, but there is an infinite number of beggars out there. Can you turn away a family with children who only want a bite to eat? You better think this out carefully and steel yourself for whatever you decide to do. If you give too many of your supplies away, you will starve. Think about it. How are your family and kids going to react to begging? Imagine a family with young children crying and pleading with you for food and a drink of water to which you must say no. Believe me, watching a die-off is not going to be pleasant.”

  Robinson gazed at her people and turned to face Bradley. Addressing him only, she said. “Our little town could probably survive if we could get rid
of this damn highway. How do you suggest we handle the refugees headed this way?”

  Bradley responded loudly enough that everyone could hear. “A small town like Beatty must band together to put up roadblocks and keep from being overwhelmed. We have two or three days at tops before Beatty will face an onslaught of raiders who will eventually take what they want and then burn the town. Prepare yourselves for I assure you that it will happen. Our only hope is to evacuate the town where the people cannot find us. Once the flow of refugees ceases, we might be able to return. In any case, we must have a supply of food and water if we want to survive.”

  ****

  T plus 8 hours - Furnace Creek Inn, Death Valley, California.

  “Yo, Jerry. Are you going to sleep all day? The continental breakfast is going to be gone if you do not hurry up. Hurry up, I’m hungry.”

  Jerry Bradley lifted the pillow off his head long enough to give his girlfriend, Jamie Ellis the finger.

  “Come on, Jez. Get up. I want to see Dante’s Point and the Devil’s Cornfield before we head back to Vegas. Let’s do it early before it gets so friggin hot.”

  Jerry groaned and sat up. Glancing at the clock radio, he noted it not working. “What time is it?”

  “Don’t know. The battery must be out on my watch. Jez, look at my face. It is cooked. The thermometer read 120 degrees when we arrived here last evening. No convertible time today or they’ll be asking me for my green card and shipping me across the Rio Grande.”

  Jerry slid out of bed and headed to the bathroom. He came out of the restroom to find his roommate standing at the open door staring at the sky. “Wow, Jez. This below sea level stuff is weird. Look at the sky. God’s heaven is performing a medley. It looks like a rainbow gone wild on LSD.”