by Td Barnes
Her mom was no less a soldier. Like most Army wives, she suffered more than he did when her husband deployed or vanished on some secret mission. While he might be enjoying an adventure or a beer with the boys, she stayed at home worrying that he might be in harm's way. A good military spouse always managed to hide those fears from his or her mate. Her mom, however, could not easily hide her concern with her daughter being the one in harm's way.
These thoughts of her parents came to mind every time she thought of her relationship. With Bronson and her, their relationship differed from that of her parents. Both Bronson and she shared a love for weapons, whereas her parents came from a generation where the man went to war and the woman raised their family.
She tried to imagine what her parents’ life would have been like with both being soldiers before starting a family. Would they have raised a family? Deep down, she realized she was considering the crystal ball life to see what Bronson and she would do if they married.
They shared their common interests in the military and at this point felt content with sharing a quickie every now and then. Neither broached the subject of marriage, and deep down she felt happy that they had not. She did not know how she would answer him if he bent a knee and asked for her hand. Would she have the concern for a daughter in the future that her mother felt for her?
****
“Good morning, Sarge,” the radio operator said pleasantly. “Where is your boss? Are you still humping Guinea hens?”
The dog glanced back towards the entrance as though telling the radio operator of them being immediately behind him. Sure enough, Bradley and Sergeant Major Marshall walked through the door. “Good morning, sir, good morning, Sergeant Major,” he said. “Sarge told me you were on the way.”
“Good morning, Specialist. I assume the radios are still quiet.”
“Yes, sir.” He scratched his head in thought. “Sir, we did get a squelch break about ten minutes ago. No audio and it hasn't repeated, probably interference. Captain Callahan came by a moment ago. He is making his rounds.”
The radio operator returned to his radios while Bradley and the sergeant major walked out to conduct the colonel’s ritual. Bradley checked in with the shift officer, checked the monitors, the radiation levels, and retrieved his morning briefing from the security desk.
The security detail was now situated in a bunker environment to reinforce it remaining the first stand should something breach the portal door. Radiation suits and gas masks hung from the wall to enable the guards on duty to become first responders in case of a surprise attack. This amounted to merely one depiction of the enhanced security of the mountain after the colonel ordered his staff to prepare for when the time came to exit the mountain.
“Sir,” the radio operator yelled from the door of the radio alcove “We have radio contact.”
“What do you have?” Bradley asked the moment he and the sergeant major rushed back in.
“It is close by, sir. The modulation is weak and broken up, but the signal strength is high.”
“Jackass Flats radio, this is Yucca Flats helicopter. Can you hear me?”
“Yucca Flats helicopter, we hear you five by five,” the radio operator replied.
“Sir, the exterior microphones are picking up the sounds of a helo,” the shift officer reported on the intercom.
“Activate the duty squad,” Bradley ordered. He started to rush out the door of the radio alcove and remembered the incoming radio contact. “Sergeant Major, make sure the troops are in place and on their toes. Treat this as hostile until we can make an evaluation."
“Are you approaching our location?” The radio operator asked.
“Affirmative. This is Captain Mitt Jones from Yucca Flats. I am landing on your helo pad. I am the one who delivered Mr. Bronson and the cargo to you from Groom Lake shortly after the EMP. I am delivering you our helicopter.”
The radio operator and Bradley exchanged questioning looks. Bradley took the microphone. “Captain Jones, this is Colonel Bradley. What is the situation? What are your intentions?”
“Sir, I regret to inform you that our group at Yucca Flats isn’t going to make it. We managed to survive this long only because we could transport a supply of MREs for a large training exercise from the stocked mess stores at Groom Lake. We managed to transport the meals to the old nuclear underground test tunnels in the Mesa above Area 12 after the EMP attack. The tunnels still contained a significant amount of water in storage from the drilling operations last century. We only retrieved the MREs before the nuclear fallout moved in.” His voice faltered where Bradley could no longer understand him.
“I am losing you, Captain. I can barely make out what you are saying.”
“Sorry, Colonel. I am in bad shape and fading fast. Groundwater from the top of the mesa somehow managed last month to infiltrate our water supply. We did not realize it until some of our guys started getting sick. We have come down with radiation poisoning. Thirteen of our group has died, and the rest of us are terminal. We wanted you to have the helicopter. There is plenty of aviation fuel stored at Groom Lake for when you need it.”
“My God, Colonel. Look at that sick bastard,” the shift officer exclaimed. “He does not look like he has shaved or bathed since this started.”
Bradley stepped over to the monitor to see a close view of the pilot zoomed in by the camera. Bradley stood numbed to the sight of the captain. “Can you believe those poor bastards holed up in those dark tunnels all this time with nothing but the packaged food and water stored in the tunnels for the last 20 years or more."
“Colonel, do not bother to offer me medical attention. I am far to gone for that. I hope you have someone who can fly the helo when this is over. God bless the United States of America,” he said, his voice so weak that they could hardly hear him over the radio. The radio went dead, indicating his turning it off. Bradley and the others watched on the monitor while he stumbled out of the helo and staggered out of view of the cameras.
****
T plus three years — nine months.
First spring.
“Good morning, Mayor,” Bradley said cheerfully. He bucked the chow line to look at the selection and then took a seat with Robinson. “We saw the sun come up again this morning.”
“I heard,” she replied. “Word spreads fast through the mountain. I cannot believe how high morale is today. Everyone senses the change in the weather outside. Even our animals appear much more spirited the last couple of days.”
“I see you are still using the walking stick. Is the improved weather helping your arthritis?”
“It is a bad first thing in the morning, but after I’ve moved around, it is tolerable. This getting old is not for sissies.”
“Tell me about it. How about our farmers and ranchers? I would imagine they are rearing to get outdoors.”
“More than you would believe, Colonel. The ranchers are hanging around the animal park, and the farmers are inventorying our supply of seeds and fertilizer again. I still can’t believe our luck in Starquest having such a supply of plant seeds.”
“I agree,” he said. “What NASA and the space industry prepared for plant life at some space colony is exactly what we need to rebuild here. How are we coming along with the new plans for the greenhouses?”
"The carpenters want to convert some of the existing infrastructures. Since we’ll still be sleeping and spending most of our time on the mountain until the radiation is gone, this is probably the best use of the doublewides, fire station, aid station, and caretaker quarters.”
“I must agree,” Bradley replied. He saw that the chow line was down to three people. “Let’s grab some breakfast.”
Bradley noticed on the way back to their table some DRI scientists and engineers sitting in a group in another section of the mess area. “The Desert Research Institute gang is sitting behind us. Let’s see what the radiation experts are saying today regarding a timetable for us starting actual farms.”
&n
bsp; The DRI group saw them approaching with their food trays and welcomed them to their long bench now used for a table. “Good morning, Colonel, Mayor.”
“Colonel Bradley and I have discussed the greenhouses and what we can do towards conventional farming. Fortunately, we have you experts on nuclear agriculture. We’ve discussed this previously, but we’re hoping you have something to add given the current outlook and the results of those soil samples we gathered earlier.”
“Well, you know our immediate worry at this point is the residual radiation, and the radioactive half-lives of the elements left from the fallout. You must realize that merely because we’ve seen some sunlight, we are still living in the nuclear winter,” one of the engineers said.
This sparked a spirited debate among the scientists that Bradley and Robinson listened to while they ate their breakfast. It appeared that each time they saw the sun; they went through this debate on starting farming operations outside the mountain.
The mountain still possessed several years of food supply for both the humans and the animals. Nonetheless, Bradley agreed with the others that everyone would feel more secure knowing the availability of an external food source if supplies at the mountain drew too small.
“This has many variables,” one of the younger scientists commented. "It depends on the number of radioactive isotopes released during the explosions. How much Iodine 131 will dump on us from inevitable fallout? It has a half-life of only eight days, but how often will we experience exposure and the eight days it takes to decay. Again, the real problem lies with Strontium 90, which has a half-life of 28 years. That, my friends, from what we see is going to stick around for a while, causing headaches to farmers needing to till the contaminated soil."
None of this came new to Bradley or Robinson. Since entering the mountain, they had routinely consulted and planned what-if scenarios with the sheltered experts.
Bradley said, “The reason we are prodding your brain cells is that in our photosynthetic alcove. Kathy is experimenting with intermediate forms of life — fish, eels, water fleas, and newts that can live off the algae. She has come up with a new alga Chlorella. She is using photosynthetic exchangers to grow plants in hydroponic beds. These same plants are what I suggest for the greenhouses.”
“I would not recommend disturbing Kathy’s subterranean garden at all,” another of the scientists said. “The contaminated ground is only one of the many challenges we will face for many years on the outside. More dangerous to plants than radiation is the ultraviolet radiation created by damage to the ozone. Some say it should renew itself within a year of a nuclear explosion, but our planet experienced no telling how many nuclear detonations.”
“Damn, Doctor. Must you burst all our bubbles?” Robinson said.
“Sorry, Madam. The sun may be shining today, but what about next week, next month, or even next year. We have an extremely playful wind current pushing the fallout. Besides, if you are thinking of sunbathing, forget it unless your hide is resistant to ultraviolet radiation.”
One of the scientists laughed. “Colonel, everything we told the mayor, and you came out of your publication of a few years back. You are the expert on the subject.”
“Bradley laughed with them. “I did not know about you seeing the publication.” Turning serious, he said. “I hoped you brains at DRI might come up with something that I missed. Our best bet is a greenhouse created with sheets of plastic to cut down on ultraviolet light. I doubt if we have any pests to worry about so we will need only to maintain a warm temperature.” Like one of you said, the fallout is like dust, not a liquid, so we should be safe if we carefully peel and clean the plants. Frankly, I am more concerned about running out of feed for our livestock. It is going to need replenishing, even though we have spread the feedstock to prevent a fire wiping us out.”
Robinson studied Bradley’s face while he spoke. When she spoke, she spoke not in her official capacity, but in the role of being another survivor.
“Tom,” she whispered. “We’ve lived in the darkness of the mountain for over three years and have finally seen the sun for a longer period than a small break in the damn clouds. I am getting old, and I am tired and too old for bullshit. The others and I have lived your book, but not having read it, I do not know the ending.”
Bradley patted her hand. “Jeannette, the book did not have an ending. I intended it a warning, so it did not need an end. The ending is up to us.”
The scientists knew most of the answers to her inquiry and chose to look away. She continued to stare into Bradley’s face, insisting on a reply.
“We can only guess the condition of the rest of the world. We have seen new breaks in the nuclear winter where the sun broke through on occasion. The Aurora lights have settled down in the atmosphere, but they will most likely return. We can bet this has left the ozone layer shot to hell for a while. It would appear the wind stream is influencing the clouds of fallout and I imagine it has swept the entire earth by now. Temperatures will remain below average and the winters much longer. This will prevent growing crops like wheat that require a long season to come to harvest. This threatens our replenishing feed for our livestock. Radiation levels will rise and fall with the coming and going of the clouds of fallout. This will require us to depend on the mountain for our safety from the elements and radiation. We will experience good seasons and bad, feast and famine.”
“For how long?” She asked.
“A long, long time,” he said thoughtfully. “A very long time,” he repeated despairingly. “Each year we should expect better conditions and for more extended periods. However, like a cold front, the fallout could cycle back across Nevada and remain for an entire season, perhaps even years. This cycling could last for centuries. Complicating matters even more, the planet is in a cycle back to the Ice Age, and it is feasible, we will not recover from the nuclear winter in time to prepare for a few centuries of living in an Ice Age.”
****
Stacey lay listening to the soft sound of air circulating through the air ducts. The constant sound of rushing air flow usually helped the residents of the mountain sleep, but not her now. “Can’t you sleep?” Stacey whispered. “You’ve been restless all night.”
“No, this is not one of my better nights,” Bradley whispered back. “I experienced a flashback to those poor bastards at Yucca Flat. Honey, you should have seen that poor man. Most likely, none of them could shave or shower all those months. They did not have the comforts that we have enjoyed here at the mountain like lighting, entertainment, or any of the things that we take for granted. They lived like moles without first aid supplies, batteries, lights, or sanitary facilities.”
Stacey reached over from her cot and patted his arm. “I know. Sadly, it became all for nothing. Was it bad how they died?” The chemical lights on the wall and at the entrance provided enough artificial light that she could see him staring at the roof of the alcove. The sounds of conversation and laughter drifted in from the mess area outside.
“Sounded like the end came rather quickly, probably less than two months. They died all alone with no one to know or remember. We have no idea their identities. With the EMP attack occurring at night, they were probably security personnel, cooks, and such staying over at Groom Lake. The captain is flying the helicopter most likely worked with security or with the fire department.”
“Tom.”
“Yeah.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, honey. Go back to sleep. I am sorry I woke you up,” Bradley whispered.
“I am wide awake now. Tom.” She paused. “What do you see in our future?”
Bradley sighed. “Are you sure you want to talk about this?”
“I attended the baby shower today for Sergeant Patton’s wife.” She laughed. “We did not have much in the way of gifts. No one found time to shop at Walmart,” she joked. “Anyway, some of the new mothers are asking me what I believe lies in store for their children. Do you realize we have
seven new babies?”
“I conducted this same conversation this morning with Mayor Robinson. There will eventually be periods when we can work and play on the mountain.”
“I know that. But when?” She rolled over to face him. “Will we continue living here at Jackass Flats? Last night I dreamed of the trees in Beatty. We could have our horses there,” she said dreamily.
Bradley could not bring himself to tell Stacey what he had told the others. “I am lucky to have married a pioneering woman,” he said. “We have motorized vehicles waiting inside the mountain, but they will not last forever. We will leave this mountain using horses for the transportation like the settlers of the West. We do not know how much of the world experienced the EMP or the fallout. Some places probably still have trains and automobiles that are running. I imagine the coastlines of the United States are uninhabitable for many years and perhaps even centuries to come. Industrialized parts of the world who escaped the attack or fallout will prosper and develop, but not the United States.”
“We are so lucky to have our children with us. What if this had happened to us in Alabama?”
“We are fortunate in so many ways. Our children are really shaping up to carry the Jackass Flats Territory into the future. Jeb will make an excellent doctor and deliver many babies to carry on after him. I expect Sammie might someday be in command of some element of the Command. Someday, she might even hold my job. Who knows, her children could well be leaders of the territory someday.”
“Tom, do you really believe we will need such an active military? Why? Did not the EMP and nuclear fallout kill off about everyone?”
“It did, but you must remember we only experienced fallout. The major cities and our coastlines are a no man’s land from the bombs. It will be centuries before they can sustain life. This means that anyone surviving in other areas will migrate to the states like Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico, and Utah, where they can live in a relatively warm climate safe from the radiation and where they can farm and ranch for food. Our greatest threat is other nations exploiting our lack of military defense to prevent their seizing our land and minerals. Las Vegas is an empty city with its infrastructure intact and no bomb radiation or structural damage. Countries that most of us have never even heard of will invade us. All they must do is move in and set up shop. Hopefully, we will have saved sufficient armament to fend against threats to our existence.”