15 Miles From Home

by P. A. Glaspy

  Even though his hands were shaking uncontrollably, he didn't stop or even slow down until he got to a commercial area about a mile further down the road. Looking in all directions and seeing no one, he let the Humvee coast to a stop.

  Damon closed his eyes and took several deep breaths in an attempt to slow his heart rate out of the cardiac arrest range. He pulled a water bottle out of the pack on the seat beside him and took a good long drink. He knew something like this could happen; expected it, in fact. However, in the thick of it, his mind took him back to his days in Afghanistan when a short drive from point A to point B could be the last trip you made. Unseen danger was everywhere. Situations like he had just gotten himself out of were common occurrences there. You never approached an abandoned vehicle or an unknown national without extreme caution. Even that was sometimes not enough. While he was there, he often thought to himself, man, I'm glad I don't have to live like this. I feel sorry for these people in these conditions. Now he and everyone else in the country would get a taste of what that life was like.

  He gave himself a few more minutes as he looked at the map again. The Turnpike was angling away from Philadelphia. He hoped that meant it would take him through less populated areas. Fewer people equaled fewer problems in his mind. He started back down the road, eyes constantly scanning in all directions for problems. His thoughts were further away though. If I ran into something like that outside of Philly, what will it be like in downtown New York City?

  ~~~~~

  Olstein had issued everyone at the meeting that morning a satellite phone, or sat phone as they were called, on the premise that they needed to communicate with each other. In reality, it was so that he could keep tabs on all of them. After repeated attempts to contact Admiral Stephens with no success, he next called General Everley. Everley answered on the second ring.

  "Everley," he said into the phone.

  "This is President Olstein. I'm looking for an update on our troop recall from all branches of our military. I need a status report," he said in response.

  Charles rolled his eyes and replied, "Sir, this is not a five-minute thing. It will take weeks, possibly months, to bring all of our assets back to this country. Orders have to be issued, arrangements have to be made; there are a lot of moving parts in this scenario. Plus, we're at a disadvantage in our bases here at home because communications have been severely damaged. Orders will have to be hand-delivered in some cases. This is going to take a while."

  "We need this to happen as quickly as possible, General," Olstein remarked rudely. "By the way, have you talked to Admiral Stephens since the meeting this morning? I've tried calling him multiple times and there's no answer. The Navy should be easier to round up since a lot of them were not in the blast zone."

  Everley pressed his lips together firmly then lied and said, "No, I haven't seen him. If I do, I'll tell him you're looking for him."

  "If you see him, you tell him to call me immediately. We're in the middle of the worst crisis this country has ever faced, and I can't find one of my joint Chiefs. That is unacceptable!" he barked into the phone.

  Knowing Arthur was probably well on his way to Tennessee by now, Charles smiled to himself. "I'll do that, Mr. President. Is there anything else?"

  "I want regular updates on the troops return. I shouldn't have to call and ask for them."

  "As soon as I have something to report, I'll report it … Sir." Charles couldn't hide the contempt in his voice but apparently the president hadn't picked up on it.

  "See that you do, General!" Olstein abruptly ended the call.

  Charles tossed the phone onto his desk. "Putz." He picked the phone back up and put a call into Damon. He'd made sure his aide had a sat phone as well in case he ran into any problems. The phone rang a few times before Damon finally answered.

  "Sorley."

  "Everley here. How's it going out there?"

  "It's going okay, Sir. I've run into a couple of situations but I'm still on task."

  "What kind of situations? How far are you?"

  "Mostly locals looking for help, I would imagine. I didn't stop to find out. The last one was an attempted carjacking or robbery. I didn't stop for that one either. I'm just north of Philadelphia on the New Jersey Turnpike. I'm thinking I should be there in two, three hours tops, Sir."

  "Call me before you go into New York City, Damon," Everley said. "I'll see if I can find out Tanner's exact location in the meantime. I'm pretty sure you don't want to spend the night roaming around what will undoubtedly be a horrific situation. I can't even imagine what it will be like there."

  Recent event still fresh in his mind, Damon replied, "I can, Sir. It will be hell, pure and simple. After a full day of no power, no cars, no phones, and no information whatsoever from anyone in a position of power, I'm guessing it will resemble a war zone. But I'll find out when I get there. I'll call you in a couple of hours, General."

  "Stay safe, Major," Everley said. "I mean that."

  "That's at the top of my list of priorities right now, Sir."

  Everley ended the call on his end. Laying the phone back down on his desk, he actually tried to imagine what New York City was like right then. Over eight and a half million people in a city that covered roughly three hundred square miles made it the highest population density of any city in the United States. The sheer volume of people, combined with the limited resources of the police and National Guard, if they had even been called out, was an impossible situation to fathom. When the water stopped flowing and the sewage treatment plants ceased to function, places like New York City would become literal cesspools of disease. Lawlessness would rule the streets, which would probably be taken over by the gangs that were already there. A city with strict gun control, most residents would have no way to defend themselves against thieves, rapists, and murderers, all of which would rise from the dark holes they usually hid in to walk boldly down the street — unhindered, unfettered, and uncontrolled. All the gun laws meant nothing to them. They didn't abide by the law.

  Charles shuddered at the thought and felt a moment of remorse for sending Damon into that madness. But this wasn't about one major. It wasn't about him, either. It was about doing whatever they could to save the country they had sworn to protect and serve. The Republic was in danger, and it was their duty to do whatever was within their power to save it.

  Chapter 21

  The closer they got to the Dollar Tree, the more people they encountered. Their idea of staying across the street from the store to hopefully avoid the crowd there was not meant to be. Those attempting to gain access to the store filled the parking lot, the street, and the sidewalk across from it that Will and Amanda were trying to use to get around them. The crowd was loud and sounded angry. Apparently, this store was denying access to the people as well. Their approach did not go unnoticed as several men came from the street and met them on the sidewalk.

  "Hey, buddy, did you guys find some supplies? Where'd you get them?" one man asked. He was talking to Will, but he was eyeing their packs.

  Will stopped and addressed the man. "No, we haven't found any supplies. We had these with us already. We've been walking since early this morning. We're tired and we're just trying to get home. If you'll excuse us …" Will took Amanda's hand and attempted to step around the man. The stranger stepped in front of him again.

  "Well, what's in those packs you're carrying? Maybe we could do a trade or something."

  Will shook his head as he replied, "Sorry, but we aren't looking to trade. We've still got a little way to go, and we'll need what we have to get there. Now please, let us pass."

  A look passed between the man and his two companions. Suddenly, one of the men grabbed Amanda and the other two grabbed Will. Amanda screamed, and Will yelled, "Get off me! Let go of her!"

  The men were trying to pull the backpacks from both of them. Amanda's hiking pack had a buckle that closed in the front to keep it stabilized and in the proper position for balance and comfort. The
man who had grabbed her was trying to pull her pack from her, but the buckle kept that from happening. She struggled to free herself from his grasp, slapping at his head with both hands. When he stepped in front of her to try to open the buckle, she brought a knee up between his legs. He immediately released her, placing both hands over his crotch, and backed away howling in pain. Reaching behind her, Amanda felt for the bottom of her pack. Finding what she was after, she pulled out a collapsible hiking pole and started beating her attacker with it. She continued to scream, but it was a rage-filled sound, not scared.

  "Get your hands off me, you piece of shit! Who do you think you are, grabbing me, trying to take my things? How dare you touch me!" About every fourth word was punctuated with her hitting him again with the compact pole. The would-be thief was on his knees alternating between protecting his head and shoulders and his groin area while crying out in anguish.

  That altercation got the attention of everyone in the area, including the other two men who had grabbed Will. With their focus off of him, Will was able to free his right hand, reach into his coat pocket, and pull out the exposed blade. He stabbed the spokesman for the trio in the left forearm causing the man to release him and withdraw to yelp in pain. That only left the third man who, seeing his companions under attack, released Will and took a couple of steps backwards raising his hands in a submissive posture. Will held the knife in front of him watching the two men who had attacked him. Amanda continued her assault on her own attacker. Neither of his friends tried to stop her. Still keeping an eye on his own assailants, Will reached out a hand and tentatively touched Amanda's arm.

  "Amanda … it's okay … you can stop now. I don't think he's going to mess with you anymore," Will said softly.

  "You bet your ass —" she punctuated the last word with another rap across his shoulders, "he isn't. Dick! Get the hell away from me!"

  Her attacker tried to stand and stumbled, slipping on the ice instead. He had multiple cuts on his head from Amanda's beating. Nothing life-threatening, but he would have one hell of a headache very soon. When she brandished her makeshift weapon at him as if to strike him again, he all but crawled away from her quickly on all fours, whimpering. When he reached his companions, they leaned down and helped him to his feet. Supporting their beaten friend, the three men backed away from Will and Amanda as quickly as they could on the frozen ground. When they were well out of reach, the spokesman called out.

  "There wasn't no call for all that! We just wanted to know what you had in them packs!"

  "What we have in our packs is none of your business," Will replied. "You might ought to think twice about attacking people. Just because you outnumber someone doesn't mean you have the advantage. Now step aside unless you want my friend here to continue the lessons." He inclined his head towards Amanda, who raised the folded hiking pole as if to punctuate his statement.

  The attackers moved into the street clearing the sidewalk in front of Will and Amanda. Onlookers behind them got out of the way as well. As the two started down the sidewalk away from the store area, they were met with hostile looks and curious stares. Amanda kept her makeshift weapon out, as did Will his knife. They instinctively walked in a manner that let them keep their eyes on the crowd, even turning to walk backwards as they got past the store. Will didn't relax until they turned the corner onto 4th Avenue and the Dollar Tree was out of sight. He walked them past the first couple of houses and finally stopped in the middle of the road.

  "How are you doing, Obi-Wan?" he asked playfully as he silently inspected her for damage. She seemed to be no worse for the wear outside of the wild look in her eye.

  "That was just … just unreal. I've never been attacked before, have you?" He thought he detected a slight tremble in her voice as she spoke.

  He shook his head and said, "No, that was a first for me, too. Unfortunately, it probably won't be the last. Please answer my question: are you okay?"

  "I think so. Just scared and pissed off. Do you think that's going to happen a lot now?" she asked anxiously.

  Again, it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her about the visions. He didn't think, he knew it was going to happen, more and more. But with what they had just been through, he wasn't sure how she would handle the knowledge of a psychic traveling companion on top of everything else. Hoping she would see it as an assumption on his part, he said, "I do, and probably pretty soon. People do crazy things when their lives are turned upside down. You see what the stores are like, and it hasn't even been twenty-four hours since everything went down. There are probably thousands of people living within a square mile of where my parents live. Definitely hundreds. All those people with no power, running out of food, it can't help but get ugly."

  "I still don't understand why it got violent so fast," she replied. "I mean, surely people are not out of food already. I could probably last three or four days if I was stuck in my dorm room with the food I have there."

  "Without a microwave? Or the single burner cooktop you probably have?"

  Amanda considered what he'd said. "Yeah, I forgot about that. Most of what I have is add water and nuke for five minutes. So, if lots of other people had the same kind of foods that I have …"

  "They're all looking for something that doesn't need electricity to be able to eat it now. If this goes on, in a week there won't be a saltine cracker or spoon of peanut butter anywhere. And that will suck, because I love peanut butter and crackers."

  Amanda sighed. "Me, too. Well, now what?"

  "We get to Mom and Dad. Follow me."

  Will continued west on 4th Avenue. The houses in this area were built around 1990. They had decent sized lots and were not right on top of each other. They were walking down the street when Will heard the distinct sound of the motor. His eyes lit up as he said, "I hear something! Come on!" They picked up their pace as much as they could without slipping on the ice-covered road. As they got closer, they could tell it was more than one of whatever it was. Rounding a curve in the street, they came upon an unexpected sight.

  Four riding lawnmowers were coming toward them single file, two with trailers. They slid a bit on the frozen surface, but they were definitely moving. Will's face lit up with a huge grin. He turned to Amanda. "This is great! This means some things made it through the pulse."

  Will's glee was infectious. Amanda smiled back at him and said, "Awesome! Do you think I can find someone who'll let me use theirs to get to Rhinelander?"

  Will laughed out loud at that. "I just had a mental picture of you on a riding mower going up Interstate 55. I don't think those tires are made for that kind of trip. You better stick with me for now."

  Amanda sighed dramatically. "Fine, if I have to. How much further is it?"

  "Just a few blocks. Hey, I think I know that guy." Will was pointing to the man in front of the mower line. As they drew closer, the gentleman's face sparked in recognition.

  "Will! Oh, man, is it good to see you! Your parents are going to be so happy. They're worried sick about you. I was there just a little while ago. Your dad gave me the idea to see if my riding mower would work. I'm not sure about the newer ones, but these older models seem to have made it through this mess."

  Will stretched a gloved hand out to him. "Hey, Jack. Glad to see or hear something running. Was Carly there?"

  Jack nodded. "Yep, she's with them. We're headed to the Dollar Tree to see if there's anything we can pick up for cash."

  Will scowled and said, "Don't bother. It's full of people and the doors are locked. Although from what we've seen this morning, that won't last long."

  "What do you mean?"

  Will went on. "We came down Stage Road. Walmart, Lowe's, Target, Wolfchase — they're covered with looters. I know for sure the mobs broke into Walmart and Lowe's. And Kroger up on Summer? Someone got shot when the front windows were taken out."

  "Are you serious?" Jack said shocked. "Right next to the police station? Where were the cops?"

  Will shrugged. "Honestly, I h
aven't seen one all morning. No police, sheriff, troopers, nothing. I guess they know they're outnumbered, or they're home trying to take care of their own families."

  "Well, that completely sucks," Jack said. "I was hoping to get some more food, maybe some other stuff for my family. After talking to your dad this morning, looks like we're in for a rough ride. But, speaking of families, since the stores are a bust, you want a ride home?"

  Will laughed. "I walked fifteen miles in snow, freezing rain, slipping on ice and now I get offered a ride when I'm like three, four blocks from home. Hell yeah!" He turned to Amanda. "Oh, shit, sorry. Amanda, this is Jack Duncan. He lives by my parents. Jack, this is Amanda Frye. We met on the road. She lives in Wisconsin and was on her way there when everything went down. I invited her to come home with me."

  Amanda smiled and extended a hand toward Jack. "Please forgive my traveling companion's lack of manners. I'm sure he was raised better than that. I fully intend to ask his mother after I meet her. Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Jack."

  Jack snorted with laughter. "Ha! Got yourself a feisty one there, Will. Pleased to meet you, too, Amanda. Well, hop in, you two. Take a load off and enjoy the scenery. We have a winter wonderland and it's cold as hell. Well, hell probably isn't cold, but you know what I mean."

  Will and Amanda climbed in the trailer. Will sat down, stretched his legs out, closed his eyes and let out a long "Ahhhhhh." Amanda shrugged out of her pack, laid it beside him, and sat on it.

  "You can say that again. By the way, this metal trailer is freezing. Isn't your butt getting cold?"