Project Terminus

by Nathan Combs

  “Oh…I am so sorry!”

  Wade looked down at a woman who took his breath away. She was about five feet tall with big, piercing gray eyes and long, thick chestnut hair.

  With a grin, he said, “Well you should be.”

  Flustered, the woman tried to blot the coffee from his shirt with a hankie she’d pulled from her purse.

  Wade, still grinning, grabbed her hand and said, “It’s okay…really.”

  She looked up and met his eyes, then asked, “What are you smiling about?”

  “Because you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

  “Oh please, that’s the lamest line I’ve ever heard. And wipe that Cheshire cat grin off your face.”

  Extending his hand, he said, “I’m Wade.”

  She looked deep into his eyes for what seemed like an eternity, and then, with a smile brighter than the Florida sun, took his hand and said, “I’m Maggie.”

  Six months later they were married.

  When Wade told Bill Maggie was pregnant, he was sitting in My Bitch doing his best I’m-a-helpless-dipshit impersonation. Wade got out preg-, but before -nant left his mouth, Bill shot out of My Bitch like a rocket and started doing a dance that resembled a cross between hip-hop and a waltz.

  Grinning, Wade asked, “What the hell are you doing, Bill?”

  With an ear-to-ear smirk he said, “Whoa, this is fantastic. Think about it. You get to change diapers. Get upchucked on. You know…all those cool little things babies do. And I gotta tell yah, Wade; in all honesty, marrying Maggie’s the best thing that ever happened to you. If you hadn’t met her, you’d still be listening to those weird fuckin’ voices in your head instead of having adult conversations. And in case you don’t know it, you can only fish so much. When you’re fished out, your brain shuts down and you start watching re-runs of The Andy Griffith Show. Then you die.”

  Matching Bill’s smirk, he said, “Well, you’re right about one thing, old buddy; without Maggie, I definitely wouldn’t have anyone to have an adult conversation with.”

  “That’s hilarious, Wade. Really, it is.” Then he snarled, “But I’m like Peter Pan; I’m never gonna grow up.”

  Six months later, Maggie gave birth to Wade’s third son, Adam, and Bill became a godfather.

  Chapter Two

  The Project

  Three years later, Bill was still at it. He was relentless in his critique of President Owen, who he called the most worthless president in history.

  “He doesn’t have a clue, Wade. No one, not even a dipshit from the streets, would do the things he does. He doesn’t even know how many states there are.”

  Rising from his wheelchair, he began imitating the president’s walk. Sauntering toward the kitchen, he pantomimed getting off Air Force One and flipping the bird at the imaginary Marine standing by the ladder. Then he staggered and lurched drunkenly toward an equally imaginary Whitehouse while scratching his ass.

  Wade was amused. “That’s John Wayne’s walk, dipshit, not the presidents.”

  Bill grinned. “Whatever. Doesn’t change the fact he’s a moron.”

  While Wade didn’t believe President Owen was responsible for all the country’s ills, there was no doubt in his mind a dark chapter had been opened in the glorious history of the United States of America. The Republicans could blame Owen, and the Dems could blame his predecessor, but as far as he was concerned, who was to blame was irrelevant. The country was in trouble. That was a fact and the only logical solution was to prepare for a chaotic ending.

  It was time to begin survival preparations. He bought survival gear and prepared bug-out bags that contained basic survival supplies. Wade allowed they could each pack one item that had nothing to do with survival. Maggie cheated. She opted for her favorite book, “The Stand,” plus a bottle of body lotion. Wade chose a pound of ground Sumatra, and Adam packed his favorite HALO, Master Chief figurine.

  With the packed bags resting patiently in the closet, Wade began utilizing a series of colored dots to chart every event that could impact the United States. His theory was that if the dots could be connected, they would eventually paint a picture.

  Wade’s son Randal called from La Guardia upon returning from his latest tour of duty in Afghanistan.

  “Hi, Dad. We still on for Christmas?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. I have something important to discuss with you.”

  Randal Coltrane began his army career as an enlisted man with the 82nd Airborne. He did a tour in Iraq, and when he rotated back to the states, he finished school and was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant. He went on to Ranger school, and after two years was accepted into Special Forces. He was exactly like his father, both physically and mentally. They had the same brown hair and piercing blue eyes. They also had the same mentality, except Randal had considerably less tolerance for stupidity. Taller than his dad at six-foot-one, he was two hundred ten pounds of muscle packed into a chiseled physique. He also had the stamina of two men, or at least it seemed that way to those who attempted to keep up with him on a hike. He could do ten miles over rugged terrain carrying a fifty-pound pack in less than two hours. His wife Carol was an army dentist. They met during a routine dental exam on a stormy April first and thirty days later they married. Nine months after they said “I do,” their daughter April—named for the month they met—was born. Randal often joked that Carol was the fool for marrying him. With a grin, she would always agree.

  That same evening, Chris called from Milwaukee. He was arriving on the 22nd and wondered if it was okay to bring his best friend, Conner Macleod, and his wife, Jody. Wade knew the Macleod’s from his visits to Milwaukee and told him they were always welcome in his home.

  Chris Coltrane was not unlike his father, but he was quieter and much more serious. At six-foot-three, he was slender with dark brown hair and his mother’s soft brown eyes. With a master’s degree in Police Science, he was an outstanding police officer. Four years after he married his college sweetheart, Anne, a drunken driver took her from him. Since drunks killed both his wife and mother, those in the know understood why he made more DUI arrests than the rest of the police department combined. He eschewed a social life and devoted his free time to raising his daughter Becky.

  “There’s one other thing, Dad…Becky’s engaged.”

  Wade was incredulous. “Engaged? Jesus, Son, she’s barely out of diapers.”

  Chris laughed and said, “Dad, she’s twenty years old.”

  “Like I said, she’s barely out of diapers. Who’s the lucky guy?”

  “His name’s Sean Fox. He’s a botanist for the State of Wisconsin.”

  “Let me guess, you’d like to bring him too.”

  Chris laughed and replied, “Yeah, if it’s okay with you. You’ll like him; he’s a really good kid.”

  “I’m looking forward to grilling him. On second thought, maybe I’ll have Bill do it.”

  “Jesus, Dad, you’re not serious?”

  Wade laughed. “No, but you have to admit it would be interesting.”

  That evening after Adam was in bed, Wade was stealthily watching Maggie prepare a grocery list for the holidays, and as she shuffled back and forth between the pantry and freezer, he marveled at her grace and beauty. He loved her smile, which brightened any room she unleashed it in. He loved the sound of her voice. He loved the confidence she projected. In fact, he loved everything about her. She had a Shodan black belt in Aikido and was fluent in Japanese, French, and German. When they met, she was licensed as a nurse practitioner, and had since received her Doctorate in nursing. She was beautiful, smart, and tough. And she was his.

  Maggie caught him staring at her, and with a smile said, “Yes?”

  “I was just trying to figure out what I did to deserve you.”

  Maggie flowed to where he sat, put her arms around him, and said, “You were born. Plus, it was written in the coffee beans that we’d be together.”

  Wade laughed. “Best d
ay of my entire life. We’ll have a house full over the holidays, Mags. What do you need me to do?”

  “I’ve got this, Wade. I want you to enjoy your family.”

  “They’re your family too, Mags.”

  “I know that. But you know what I mean. Now, go do something useful, like…make us a margarita. We have three bedrooms and a den and I have to figure out where everyone’s going to sleep.

  Two days before Christmas, Randal, Carol, and April drove down from Eglin. Carol and Maggie headed to the kitchen to make lunch. April and Adam cranked up HALO on the X-box and began annihilating hordes of attacking Covenant while Wade and Randal went to the lanai.

  After detailing his latest Afghan tour, Randal said, “Special Operations morale is low, Dad.”

  “How bad is it?”

  The grimace on his face spoke volumes. “Every shooter I know, and I know most of them, have zero respect for the CIC. They don’t trust him. He’s totally clueless when it comes to the military. Everyone’s convinced something wicked this way comes.”

  When the conversation ended, Wade said. “Chris gets here tomorrow. I think it’s time we had a family meeting about the future. Let’s go see how lunch is coming.”

  Chris, Becky, Conner, Jody, and Sean arrived from Milwaukee early in the morning on Christmas Eve. After congratulating Becky on her engagement, Wade maneuvered Sean to the lanai. He smiled and said, “Relax kid, I’m not an ogre. Tell me about yourself.”

  “There’s not much to tell, honestly. I’m twenty-two. As you can see, I’m on the thin side. I have a degree in Botany, and I love your granddaughter.

  Wade decided it was a good answer. Nodding, he said, “Your prospective father-in-law says you’re a good guy. That’s enough for me.” He patted the young man on the shoulder and smiled. “Interrogation’s over. But let me warn you about Bill.”

  “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that. Who’s Bill?”

  Wade started laughing and said, “On second thought, I think I’ll let you find out for yourself. Your fiancé looks apprehensive. Maybe you should put her mind at ease. We have all week to get to know each other.”

  Bill and Linda arrived for dinner, and while not intentional, Bill and Conner became the entertainment. For over an hour they traded insults and told tall tales, each yarn more preposterous than the one preceding it. The women grinned, but rolled their eyes to show they didn’t believe a word either of them said. The men listened and chuckled. It was getting deeper by the minute, and smiling inwardly, Wade thought, I wish I had some bullshit repellent.

  Fortunately, Jody saved the day by entering the “arena,” and interrupting the competition with the announcement that dinner was ready. She looked sternly at Bill and Conner and said, “You two will not say a single word while we’re eating.” Then with a smirk she added, “If you do, you’ll find yourself sitting at the little table,” and nodded toward April’s doll table set up in a corner of the dining room.

  Conner and Jody Macleod were well matched. They complimented each other in ways most couples never could. Conner was a tall, thin electrical engineer and a jokester. He hated to sleep because, as he was fond of saying, “I might miss something.” He was also forgetful and a bit of a slob. Jody, on the other hand, was short and plump, a decorated grade school teacher, and almost always serious. Plus, she never forgot anything, and was so neat and organized it even bothered her. As a bonus, Conner loved to cook and Jody liked to eat.

  After dinner, April and Adam were tucked into bed. Wade asked everyone to grab their drinks and come to the Florida Room. Once everyone was settled around the room, he said, “To coin an old phrase, ‘Houston, we have a problem.’ I know you’re all concerned with the direction the country’s heading. I am too. I’ve charted every faux pas, every decision, every Executive Order, every Executive Memoranda, and every failure and scandal the current administration is responsible for. The results are not pretty.”

  Holding up his dot-chart, he explained, “The black dots represent things I believe are nothing more than inexperience and/or stupidity. They’re not connectable to any other dot. The green dots indicate issues that are interconnected, but by themselves shouldn’t cause any immediate problems. The red dots represent serious events or decisions impacting the country in a major way. The red dots are inter-connected, and as you can see, there are a lot of red dots. It’s my opinion the country is in serious trouble.”

  He paused for a moment to let that sink in, and then continued. “We’re fortunate to have several very high placed military contacts. Chris has the pulse of the law enforcement community. The feedback we’re getting is that we’ll soon reach an Event Horizon—the point of no return—and the United States as we know it will cease to exist.”

  Bill blurted, “In other words, Owen’s gonna unleash the Kraken.”

  Laughing with everyone else, Wade said, “Well, yeah, I guess that’s another way to put it.”

  Looking around the room at their apprehensive faces, he continued, “Look guys, there’s nothing we can do to prevent whatever is going to happen from happening, but we can prepare to survive it. And if we’re going to survive, we need to make serious plans. It’s hard to say how much time we have, but I’m positive we can prepare a survival plan that will keep us alive if the shit hits the fan.”

  Carol asked, “What do you think is going to happen, Wade?”

  As Randal found out after he married her, Carol asked a lot of questions and was quite possibly the most competitive person on the planet. She thought she could beat him at anything. Didn’t matter what it was. Shooting? Check. Swimming? Yep. Hiking? Anytime! Wrestling? No problem. She never won, but she never stopped trying, and he loved the fact that she never gave up.

  Wade smiled at his daughter-in-law. “There are a lot of legitimate possibilities, Carol. I could list them all, but I think we should concentrate on the events that have the best chance of happening. In my opinion, the most likely scenario is the end of the Petro Dollar and collapse of the economy. Martial law and FEMA camps would probably follow that. An EMP attack isn’t out of the question, and neither is a nuclear war.”

  Sean asked, “What about a Yellowstone eruption?”

  “Honestly, Sean, an eruption of Yellowstone isn’t off the table, but it’s not on the immediate radar. We can’t discount it out of hand, but then, we can’t discount the Rapture either. We need to concentrate our efforts on the most likely event that could happen. And in my opinion, that’s a collapse of the economy.

  Randal said, “Dad, you’ve put in more time analyzing this situation than the rest of us combined. Why don’t you make a list of what we need to do and assign everyone a task?”

  “Good idea, Randal. I know everyone’s strengths and weaknesses except for yours, Sean. Conner and Jody, I could use a little more detail about what you’re capable of too. Give it to me in writing. Don’t exaggerate and don’t be modest. I’ll have something for everyone before you return home.”

  The day after Christmas, Wade gathered them again.

  “Our number one priority is to find a place to go before the shit hits the fan. Linda, you’re a realtor—find us some land. Start looking in Western North Carolina. That’s one of the most remote areas east of the Mississippi.” He handed her a typed list. “These are the parameters we’re looking for. It would be ideal if you can find something for us to look at ASAP.”

  Addressing the entire group, he said, “We need to survive without outside help of any kind for a minimum of five years.”

  Turning to Randal and Bill, he said, “Here’s an armaments and high tech list. Feel free to substitute or change it, you both know what we’ll need. Ensure we have enough DRASH tents to sleep thirteen people, and for storage, mess, medical, etcetera.”

  Handing a list to Conner, he said, “Research a high capacity, hybrid Wind-Solar powered system. Select two heavy-duty 4-wheelers, and get together a list of tools and related supplies. Include maintenance, back-up parts, and back-up syste
ms.

  “Sean, you work on what we need to maintain a hydroponics farm. We’ll want to feed thirteen people indefinitely. Oh, and Randal, before I forget, add hydroponics to the tent list.”

  Handing a list to Maggie and Becky, who was a brand new RN, he said, “Ladies, you have medical and toiletries. Start with the basics, then prepare a more advanced list.

  “Chris, you and I will work on survival supplies, food, clothing, camp supplies, etcetera.”

  Turning to Jody he said, “You’ll be responsible for the schooling of April and Adam. Make a list of textbooks and every item you’ll need to educate them for at least five years. You’re also going to be our musical expert.”

  “And last, but by no means least, Carol, you have dental supplies and recreation of all types.”

  Addressing the entire group again, he said, “This is just a starter list. Once we purchase the land, we’ll update. It’s possible our e-mails and cell phone calls are not secure. Keep that in mind if you have to communicate with each other—keep it short, sweet, and purposefully vague. And, of course, don’t share what you’re doing with anyone outside of our group. Since this is a project, I’ve given it a name. Project Terminus, which basically means to plan for the end.”

  Three days after Christmas, everyone returned to their respective homes, and Maggie and Wade sat on the lanai enjoying margaritas. The moon was full, the crickets were chirping, and the horrendous summer humidity was AWOL.

  Maggie was staring into the night sky when Wade said, “What is it, Maggie?”

  She sighed. “Wade, I know you’re right. I know something bad is coming, but it just seems so unbelievable right now. I mean, look how tranquil and peaceful it is.”

  Wade wrestled with that demon every day. When viewed through the prism of a peaceful morning or a beautiful evening, it was always difficult to acknowledge the dangers lurking in plain sight.

  “Maggie, I understand what you’re feeling. I feel it every day. And every day I question myself. Then I look at you and Adam, or I break out the dot chart, and my uncertainty dissipates immediately. Nothing like what we’re preparing for has ever happened in the United States. People simply can’t conceive a collapse could occur. It never has. Therefore, it never will. It’s called the Normalcy Bias. Put another way, most people aren’t willing to deal with the possibility the country could collapse, so they refuse to accept the possibility even exists.”