Radioactive and The Decay Dystopian Super Boxset- A Dirty Bomb and Nuclear Blast Prepper Tale of Survival

by James Hunt

  “I’m fine. Are you boys coming from San Diego?”

  “Yes, we are.”

  There was another soldier on the other side of the vehicle staring at Coyle, who left his window up. The other two were shining the lights at the ends of their rifles into the truck bed. The only thing back there was the food.

  The soldier shined his light behind Jim’s seat and saw the long duffle bag along with his backpack. “Do you have any weapons on you, sir?”

  “No.”

  “It looks like you’ve got a rifle bag in there.”

  “We’re on our way to Phoenix to visit my sister and stay there ‘till this thing gets sorted out. Why is the road blocked?”

  The soldier pulled his radio up. “We’ll need the canine unit out here.”

  The guy behind them laid on the horn again with a few short bursts. He leaned out his window. “Hey, what’s the hold up?”

  The lead soldier motioned to his partner. “Take care of that, will you?”

  He nodded and walked over to the car. “Sir, I’m gonna need you to calm down and remain in your vehicle.”

  The man was getting upset. “We’re trying to get through here, what’s going on?”

  The soldier kept his rifle in his hands and again told him to remain calm and stay in his vehicle. The man finally pulled himself back through the window inside the car.

  Jim saw the canine unit heading towards him about ten cars ahead of them. Coyle had beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead. The closer the dogs moved to the truck, the more restless Tigs became.

  The dogs passed the green Mazda ahead, and they stopped abruptly and started barking at the car. The soldier handling him had to pull him back. The dog kept running towards the trunk. The lead soldier around Jim’s truck moved towards the canine’s barks.

  A soldier had his rifle aimed at the driver of the Mazda and the man had his hands up in the air. The Mazda was surrounded now, with the soldiers pointing their rifles at the car and the dog going insane. Jim could hear shouts of, “What’s in the trunk? What’s in the trunk?”

  The man in the driver seat kept screaming, “I don’t know! I don’t know! I haven’t done anything.”

  Jim glanced in the rearview mirror and saw some cars trying to turn around, but with all of them being funneled into one lane, there was too much congestion for them to move anywhere.

  The soldiers pulled the man out of the car and slammed him on the ground. They cuffed his arms behind his hands and pushed his face into the asphalt. One of the soldiers slowly approached the back of the truck. He kept his rifle up. He motioned for the soldier over by the driver’s door to pop the hatch.

  A click signaled the trunk’s lock popping open. The soldier reached out his gloved hand just above the California license plate and slowly lifted it up. There were four packs of C-4 explosives lining the insides of the trunk.

  The soldier took off at a sprint, waving his arms for everyone to get back. A few of the people in their cars got out and ran while others threw their cars in reverse. The Cadillac in front of Jim peeled out backwards and slammed right into his truck grill. The hood folded upwards and bits of glass from the smashed headlights scattered on the pavement.

  The airbags went off, and Tigs’ cage rolled onto the floorboard. Jim’s head flew back onto the headrest and Coyle’s arm flew back and hit the rear window with a loud crack.

  A woman jumped out of her car and ran screaming past them, right into the chaos of the traffic behind them. A van slammed into her, and blood sprayed a parked car’s windshield. Car horns were honked in between the shouts of, “BOMB! BOMB! BOMB!”

  Jim glanced over to the median, which had a wall four feet high. Getting over that thing was their best chance. Jim unbuckled his seatbelt and did the same for Coyle, who was still clutching his left arm. “Grab what you can and follow me.”

  Jim grabbed Tigs’ cage, the duffel bag, and his pack. The shouts from soldiers trying to organize the chaos ended with gunfire being sprayed into the air.

  The commanding officer rushed out of the security post and headed over to the barricade.

  “Sergeant, what do we have?” he asked.

  The young sergeant had a clean, tanned face and piercing blue eyes that were watery with fear, but his voice masked what he was feeling.

  “Sir, we have a car bomb in the line. We’re evacuating the surrounding area, but it’s chaos out there.”

  One of the soldiers was examining the contents of the trunk, looking for the trigger. He was in his bomb gear and his hands finally stumbled upon a small black box with wires running into it. He flipped the box over and there read a timer with five seconds left, quickly ticking away.

  In the time it took for him to realize what was going to happen, the bomb went off, sending the soldier flying backwards. Jim and Coyle dashed over the top of the concrete barriers and ducked their heads under their arms in their laps. Shrapnel, fire, and smoke flew over the top of the barrier, raining down on them.

  Jim glanced up over the edge of the barrier after the blast and saw a crater the size of the sedan in the middle of the road. He looked over at his truck, which was flipped upside down on the pavement.

  When they approached the front of the barricade, there was fire, smoke, and debris littered on the interstate. Most of the people that had survived and abandoned their vehicles had been corralled into the security station in the middle of the grass median. The survivors huddled in blankets and sipped coffee and water. Soot and fear smeared their faces.

  A solider came up and handed the two of them water. Jim chugged down half of it and used the rest to wipe the sweat and dirt off of his face and hands.

  Coyle kept wincing at his arm. Jim pulled Coyle with him and asked a soldier where the first aid tent was. When they found it, Jim flagged down one of the nurses.

  “Excuse me, can you take a look at my friend?”

  The nurse had wavy red hair with a porcelain doll complexion. Coyle thought he’d take the opportunity to let her know about his heroics earlier in the day. “Yeah, I was at the base when it happened. Sure, it was frightening, but when you have nerves of steel, it doesn’t really faze you that much. I saved like four people, you know. I’m gonna get a medal for it.”

  The nurse nodded politely, then rolled her eyes when she turned to help another patient. Coyle slapped Jim on the arm. “I think she likes me.”

  “No, she just thinks you have head trauma.”

  “Ha. Ha.”

  Coyle ended up just having a sprain and was getting it wrapped up when a soldier with two MP escorts walked into the tent. The soldier motioned over to Jim and Coyle.

  “Is this them?” the soldier asked.

  The nurse nodded.

  “Come with me.” the soldier said.

  Coyle started up saying that he was only joking about saving those lives and the medal was a figure of speech, but the two of them were rushed out by the MP escorts towards the CO’s quarters. There was a giant map of the southwest region, with squares and circles dotting Southern California and Arizona. The CO motioned for them to sit and introduced himself.

  “My name is Captain Jay Haggard with the El Centro Naval Aviation facility. I am the commanding officer of this operation. I understand you two were at the San Diego Naval Base when the attacks happened?”

  “Yes, Captain, we were,” Jim replied.

  Jim slowly turned his head to Coyle. Coyle looked straight ahead in attempt to avoid the stare.

  Captain Haggard paced back and forth, walking around the map. He approached his desk and leaned back against it with Jim and Coyle right in front of him. “If you two have anything you’d like to share with me, I’d be very appreciative.”

  Coyle looked at Jim, then to Haggard, then back to Jim, then back to Haggard. If no one spoke soon, he looked like his head was going to start spinning like the girl from The Exorcist.

  “Captain, we know just as much as you do. The base was attacked and then we heard abo
ut the blasts in New York, D.C., Los Angeles, and we got out of there,” Jim said.

  “You know, one of my lieutenants recognized you when you walked into the medical unit. I didn’t think the famous Jim Farr would be all the way out here, but when your friend started blabbing about his heroics to our nurse, I thought it might be you,” said Haggard.

  Coyle stepped in between Jim and Captain Haggard and raised his index finger. “And you wouldn’t happen to know if she said anything about me, would you?”

  The two of them glanced back over to Coyle at the same time. Coyle let the awkward pause linger before he lowered his finger and waved it off. “I can find out later.”

  Haggard attempted to egg Jim on. “With your intelligence background and the close relationship I’m told you have with Captain Streak, I’m surprised you don’t have your own theory.”

  “It was well planned. With the multiple attacks across the country, whoever did this had been getting ready for a very long time. They knew exactly what to do and how to do it. But that’s not what scares me the most.”

  Haggard raised his eyebrows. “And what does scare you the most?”

  Jim paused as he looked straight into Haggard’s eyes and said, “That whoever did this seriously believes that they can win.”

  Captain Haggard rested his hands on the table and leaned in to meet Jim’s gaze. Coyle sat frozen in his seat. Haggard motioned at an MP by the door. “You can escort these two back to the base, and be sure to confiscate any weapons they have on them.”

  Jim knocked the MP’s hand away and marched out on his own steam. Coyle hung back a minute, and Haggard almost forgot he was there until he spoke up.

  “He’s had a long day,” Coyle said. Haggard gave a penetrating look that sent Coyle out of his chair and to the exit of the tent in a flash.

  Jim, Coyle, Tigs, and the rest of the survivors of the road blast were all gathered then sent to the base for safety precautions. They were told they would be able to rest and regroup there. Jim had to give up his pistols, shotgun, rifle, and ammunition from the duffel bag upon arrival. Coyle’s stomach rumbled, and the two decided the first order of business was to find the mess hall.

  Jim grabbed a plate and Coyle shuffled in behind him, cutting in front a man who was trying to get in line.

  “Hey, back of the line, pal,” the man said.

  Coyle whipped around and flashed his bandaged arm. “Medical case. I get first priority. Let me know when you save somebody’s life, though, and I’ll be sure you get to the front of the line.” Coyle picked up a plate and turned to see Jim’s back. He pulled on his shoulder, but Jim wouldn’t budge. Coyle jumped around in front of him. “Are you trying to get us shot? Because based off of your track record, it’s starting to become a trend.”

  “I didn’t have the best track record when I was in the Navy. ‘Intelligent, but reckless’ I think is what my file said. The only thing I was reckless about was telling the truth.”

  “I never pictured you as the type with authority problems. That’s supposed to be my thing. You’re stealing my thunder, Jim.”

  A surly woman in a hairnet slopped a scoop of meat onto Jim’s plate, which splashed bits of brown drips onto his shirt. Jim looked down at his shirt and then at the lady who showed no sign of remorse. He moved on to the next server who was scooped some veggies.

  The spread wasn’t that bad. The mystery meat turned out to be meatloaf, and with sides of mash potatoes, green beans, and bread rolls, Jim realized just how long it had been since he actually ate something. He wolfed down the entire plate and got up for seconds. When he got back with his second helping, Coyle was just finishing up his first. Jim scooped up a little bit of the meatloaf and folded it in a napkin to give to Tigs back at their tent that was being set up.

  After the second helping, Jim’s eyes grew heavy and the two of them looked for where they’d be staying for the night. The military had set up some temporary relief tents usually reserved for natural disasters. The tents had eight rows of four cots, each with a blanket and pillow.

  They were under a “lights out” 9:30 P.M. curfew, and for the first time since he’d been here, Jim didn’t object to the military’s rules. He was exhausted. He sank into the bed and wasn’t sure if he would ever get up. With Tigs tucked under him in her cage chewing on the meatloaf and Coyle snoring in the cot beside him, Jim drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

  ***

  Jim awoke with the rising sun and the nudges from the soldiers corralling everyone out of their bunks. Coyle was particularly displeased with the abrupt awakening and made sure to flash a middle finger at the back of the soldier that woke him once he turned away.

  Jim picked up Tigs’ cage and let her out by a patch of sand to do what cats did. The orange sun was halfway above the desert horizon, and Jim glanced down at his watch to check the time. It was frozen at 1:21 P.M., which was the time of the blasts at the base yesterday. Jim tapped on the glass face, but the hands stood still.

  Tigs jumped around a bit, happy to be out of her cage, and started circling Jim’s legs. He picked her up and scratched her chin. She purred appreciatively. Coyle finally came out of the tent with his hair a complete mess, still upset about the early rising.

  “You think that they’d want everyone well rested.”

  “You slept for almost ten hours,” Jim said.

  “The keyword there is ‘almost.’” Coyle stretched and gave Tigs a few pets. Jim looked at all of the people emerging from the tents in groups, pairs, or by themselves heading over to the breakfast tent. A line was beginning to form, and Jim suggested that they get over there before it got too long. Before Coyle could object and go back to bed, his stomach growled and agreed that breakfast was a good idea.

  Eggs and hash browns filled their plates, and both Jim and Coyle were glad to see that the surly woman from last night wasn’t on the line. Jim appreciated that the woman there this morning seemed to understand that getting the food on his plate, not his shirt, was the best practice of serving.

  Jim and Coyle sat across from each other. Jim squeezed in between a young couple and a man with two children while Coyle was sandwiched in between two extremely plump gentlemen who smelled like musty cheese. The young couple next to Jim started to argue as he downed his food.

  “I just don’t understand why we can’t just go back to our cars and leave,” the girl whined. “I mean it’s not like those terrorists wanted our Camry, right?”

  The man let out a long breath. “The car might not even be working, babe, and the soldier we spoke to said that he wasn’t sure when we’d be able to leave, so we might as well just make the best of it.”

  She threw her arms up in the air. “Well, how long is that going to take? A day? A week? A month? What about my sister’s wedding?”

  “I wouldn’t mind missing that joyous occasion,” the young man murmured under his breath.

  She raised her voice in shock and disgust, loud enough for the whole base to hear. “WHAT?”

  The man regretted his tired comments, but before he could apologize, the girl stood up from her seat, smacked the back of his head, and stormed off. The young man sat in silence for a moment and then looked over at Jim. “Still better than going to that wedding,” he said.

  Coyle leaned over the table to grab the man’s attention. “So the soldier you spoke to said we could be here a while?”

  The man nodded and added, “He also said the highway is toast. I left that part out, because as you can see, my lovely wife is having a bit of a hard time coping with our current situation.”

  “It’ll take some time before they can repair the damage from that bomb,” Jim said.

  “I hope the car’s still in one piece when we get back,” the young man said as he shook his head and shoveled some eggs onto his fork. “I just bought that damn thing.”

  The young man finished his meal and said goodbye to Jim and Coyle. Coyle wished him good luck and after he’d left, Coyle let out a whistle. “
Damn, his wife is hot.”

  Once they were out of earshot from the other groups and Coyle had stopped moaning about wanting to go back to bed, Jim shared his thoughts with him. “You really think it’s still better to get to Phoenix than to stay here?” Coyle asked.

  “I think it’s a good idea to get as far away from the base as we can get. Whoever’s doing this seems to be basing their blasts around military stations,” Jim said.

  Jim pulled a map out of his back pocket and crouched down on the ground, spreading it out. He pointed to where they were on the base in El Centro and ran his finger along the Gila River, which ran parallel to the highway and right into Phoenix.