Collective Retribution

by Edwards, D. S.

  Way too much.

  16

  KLAMATH FALLS AIRPORT

  7:20 P.M.

  THE BASE WAS MUCH CALMER AND MORE ORDERED THAN WHEN Nirsch and Luke had left. Several base personnel were outside the fence helping the injured. A pickup was towing disabled vehicles out of the roadway. Dead bodies were being carried to the back of another pickup parked outside the main security gate and stacked like cordwood. Two seventy-five-foot-long tents had been erected and turned into a makeshift hospital. Dim lights hung from the tent poles casting, everything in an eerie light. People lay on cots outside the tents with IVs on metal hooks hanging over them.

  As they slowly approached the base, Luke pointed toward the cots. “Why are they outside the tents?”

  “I’m assuming they’re too injured to help,” Nirsch said. “They’d be a drain on limited resources. That’s probably morphine in the IVs. At least they’ll be comfortable till they die. As soon as they get a handle on things here, I’m sure they’ll start transporting the injured to the hospital, if there’s room for them.”

  “Why didn’t we have any warning? You’d think with the advances in technology and intelligence gathering, we would have known someone was planning this.”

  “We found out less than three days ago.”

  Luke slammed his fist into the dashboard. “Three days is better than nothing! At least people could have gotten out of the cities.”

  “The problem was we didn’t know if the intelligence was sound. We didn’t know who was involved, what exactly was being planned, how many people were involved, or how big the operation would be. We didn’t even know for sure about the virus until you found that little silver box this morning.”

  “What was in the box?”

  “A full syringe containing the virus. If you hadn’t found that, there’d be no antivirus under development and a whole lot more people would die. You, my friend, might just be the difference between total eradication of the U.S population and millions of people surviving to rebuild.”

  Luke looked out the window as they approached the guard at the gate. Nirsch rolled down his window and pointed to Airman Ledbetter in the backseat.

  “We picked up a stray.”

  The guard leaned his head in through the open window.

  “Hey, Jesse,” he said, “Where did you come from?”

  “Kenny and I went to town to get some food. We were driving when all this happened. We wrecked. Kenny didn’t make it.”

  Nirsch interrupted their reunion. “We need to get back into the underground facility. Could you have someone meet us there and open the big door?”

  “Wait here.”

  The guard walked into the shack and picked up a radio. He returned a minute later and opened the gate.

  “Airman Perkins will meet you in the garage.”

  Ledbetter got out and they were waved through. They drove to the garage and found Perkins.

  “We still need to make contact with the state police and the hospital,” Nirsch said. “It was a mess in town, took us over an hour to get to the hospital. I need to grab a couple of generators for them.”

  Perkins wheeled two generators to the back of the truck. As they loaded them, Nirsch asked, “Any reports coming in?”

  Perkins took a deep breath before answering. “They managed to link up to a couple satellites that were on the other side of the world when this happened, but we don’t have a complete damage report. So far we know that at least ten states were targeted. We know Hawaii, Alaska, Montana, Oklahoma, Arizona, and Idaho are completely intact. They took out at least twelve cities, but more were targeted. A few devices failed to detonate on the ground, one in Seattle, another in Pittsburgh. These were found in time. The devices that delivered the EMPs were all successful. Every state was affected by them with the exception of Hawaii and Alaska.”

  “What about other countries?”

  “It looks like London was hit, as well as Tokyo. So far that’s all we know.”

  “What about Israel?”

  “The reports we got say the Israelis were able to keep the terrorists off their own soil, but they won’t be able to send aid. They have their hands pretty full. Minutes after the attack, troops from Gaza, Iran, Syria, and Pakistan launched an offensive against them. The jihadists knew this was coming. They were waiting.”

  Nirsch thought of the intense fighting Israel was surely facing, and said a prayer for them. Many Mossad agents lived on American soil, and Nirsch had worked with most of them. Those relationships had strengthened the love he’d always had for the Jewish people. The United States and Israel had been close allies since World War II, even though the last five years had strained that relationship. President Hartley had not been very cooperative with the Israeli Prime Minister. But Nirsch believed the destinies of the two nations were still too closely linked for that strain to last.

  “So much for terrorism not being state sponsored,” Nirsch said.

  “Also, North Korea is making a move on South Korea. The other countries that weren’t hit are preparing to send aid and personnel, unless they’re being attacked by their neighbors. People are coming in from Mexico and Russia, but not to give us aid. The border fences have been torn down and the drug cartels are flooding over the southern border by the thousands. They’re moving up into the border towns, looting and killing everyone they see. Russian troops have crossed into Alaska from the north. The residents and our troops are trying to hold them back, but they’ve already advanced to Coldfoot. The oil fields at Deadhorse are now under the control of Russian troops, and as of eighteen hundred hours, everything north of Coldfoot is Russian territory. That’s all we know because information is slow in coming. The EMPs managed to knock out about 80 percent of our satellites.”

  If all this is happening in the first several hours, Nirsch thought, it’ll be ten times worse within a week. Until now, America kept the globe in a state of semi-peace. We were the glue holding the world together.

  “All right,” Nirsch said, “we need to make contact with the state police and the hospital. Let Colonel Snider know that he should be able to reach them on the radio within the hour.”

  They got back in the truck and headed out the gate. Once they were safely out of sight of the base, Nirsch took the highway to Lakeview.

  “Well, Luke,” he said, “there’s no turning back now.”

  “Just get me home, Nirsch. I gotta get to Susan.”

  17

  LUFKIN RANCH

  7:30 P.M.

  LARRY, AMANDA, JERRY, AND BETTY SAID LITTLE AS THEY ATE dinner. It really was quite the feast. Beef brisket with roasted vegetables, fresh hot cornbread with butter and homemade raspberry jam, and fresh whole milk to wash it down.

  “It’s too late to start out tonight,” Jerry said once the meal was finished. “The temperature’s dropping, and going out now is just askin’ for trouble. We have an extra bedroom. Betty’s always ready for guests that drop in. Why don’t you folks stay here tonight? You can head out in the morning.”

  “It is pretty nasty out there,” Larry said. “It probably would be better to start out in the morning, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  Betty stood and smiled. “It’s no trouble at all. You can sleep in the guestroom.”

  They followed her into a room off the kitchen. Betty lit a couple of candles on a scratched-up dresser. The guestroom was cozy. Paintings of farm scenes with ducks, cows, and geese adorned the walls. On the wall above the headboard was a framed print of Da Vinci’s “The Last Supper.” The bed looked particularly inviting. It was covered with a handmade patchwork quilt.

  “This is very cozy,” Amanda said with a smile. “I love the quilt.”

  “My great-great-grandmother made that quilt,” Betty said. “It came over on the Oregon Trail. The bathroom is just down the hall. There’s no running water with the electricity out, but I’ll put a bucket in there from our spring out back. You can use it to flush or freshen up. We get up around her
e at daylight, but we’ll try to be quiet and not wake you.”

  “The earlier the better,” Larry said. “I’d like to get going as soon as it’s light enough to see. If the ranch is a hundred miles, it’s going to take us at least seven to ten days to walk.”

  “Okay. I’ll peek in on you at about 6. Sleep well.”

  Betty closed the door and they got ready for bed. The mattress was feather, and heavenly. It was like lying on a cloud. Larry fell asleep in minutes.

  18

  EAST SIDE OF KLAMATH FALLS

  7:37 P.M.

  NIRSCH AND LUKE SKIRTED THE EDGE OF TOWN AND HIT HIGH-way 140 as it started to snow. By the time they left the valley floor and headed up the mountain, it was starting to pile up. Nirsch was amazed at how peaceful everything looked. The snow blanketed the wrecked cars and the bodies. There was no visible evidence of the pain and death that had embraced the region. They saw no one else on the drive. Those who were still alive were probably hunkered down someplace, trying to keep warm and trying to push away their fear and uncertainty.

  “It’s like we dreamed it all.” Nirsch said.

  Luke didn’t respond. He just sat there staring out the window. Finally, he cleared his throat. “All that stuff you were tellin’ Sheriff Gibson back there—you really think what’s left of the government is gonna relocate people?”

  “I think they’ll try. I think the weaker people who weren’t prepared and who aren’t able to defend themselves will run after any government official like an eager puppy dog, with their hands out and smiles on their faces. I think those who are armed and understand freedom and the sacrifice it takes for a people to live free will fight it with everything they’ve got. When people rebel enough, that plan will be abandoned. Our generation will probably be long gone by the time this all passes. We just have to make sure we never forget what made our country great and make sure we teach the next generation. They’ll be the ones who’ll rebuild. If our history is lost, then the freedoms we all enjoyed will be forever lost. You won’t be able to tell the difference between America and Cuba.”

  “What do you think about President Hartley?”

  “I think the man is an idiot! The reason we weren’t able to stop this was because he tied our hands. I think that deep down, he loves his country. But he’s buried what made this country what it was. I still get angry when I think of all the people who fawned over him and thought he was so wonderful, so enlightened. Some of us screamed at the top of our lungs, ‘Don’t trust him! He’s taking us down a dead-end road!’ No one listened, and now we all have to pay for it. The fact that he survived and is still trying to run things could be the biggest hindrance in recovery. If he realizes what role he had in this and turns the page, we’ll be fine. If he doesn’t and continues down the same road, a lot more innocent lives will be lost.”

  The truck lost traction and the back end started to slide. Nirsch took his foot off the gas, turned into the skid, and quickly regained control.

  “Oops,” he said with a laugh, then reached down and switched into 4x4 high.

  “You want me to drive?” Luke said. He was shaking his head.

  Nirsch laughed. “No, I’m good.”

  Nirsch caught a glimpse of movement beyond Luke’s window. His brain registered that it was an elk at the same moment it struck the passenger door. The blow knocked the truck sideways. The back wheels lost purchase with the road. They spun around twice before coming to rest against a tree stump twenty feet off the road.

  Luke stared ahead, dazed.

  “You all right?” Nirsch said.

  Luke turned. There was a small cut on the side of his head. A thin trickle of blood ran down his cheek.

  “I think so. What the heck was that?”

  “I think it was an elk. Your head is bleeding.”

  Luke reached up with trembling fingers and winced when he touched the side of his head. “I’ll be all right. Just a little bump.”

  Nirsch reached into the backseat and rummaged through the bag of supplies he’d taken from the hospital.

  “Here,” he said, and handed Luke a small pack of gauze and a bandage. He put the truck in reverse. All four wheels spun but they didn’t move. He put it in low range and tried moving forward. Same result. They were definitely stuck.

  Nirsch stepped out of the truck and slowly walked around it. They were caught in two feet of snow on top of eighteen inches of sloppy black mud. “You’re gonna have to get out and push!” he yelled. “The winch cable isn’t going to be long enough to reach the other side of the road.”

  The truck was parallel to the road. The closest tree to tie the winch off to was across the road and fifteen feet up the bank. They needed that tree to pull them in the right direction.

  Luke got out of the truck. “Which end you want me to push from?”

  “Front end. Our best chance is backing out of here.”

  Nirsch climbed back behind the wheel while Luke walked to the front of the truck and leaned low.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” Luke called.

  “All right, as soon as I put it in gear, put your back into it.”

  Nirsch slammed the gearshift into reverse and stomped on the pedal. The tires began to smoke as the truck slowly inched its way out of the ditch.

  “Hold it, we aren’t getting too far,” Nirsch said. “I’m going to go forward again—stand back. When I stop, get ready to push again. I’m going to try and rock it.”

  He pulled the truck forward two feet, to where he’d started.

  “Okay, here goes.”

  Luke leaned into the front of the truck and Nirsch slammed it into reverse again. The truck started moving, slowly. All four tires spun again, throwing mud and slush. The truck began picking up speed, the back tires caught, and it bounced back up on the road, causing Luke to lose his footing and fall face down in the mud.

  Nirsch got out of the truck and started laughing hysterically. Luke stood in the glare of the headlights, mud dripping from every orifice. He spat clumps of mud and pine needles out of his mouth.

  “I’m glad you think this is funny!”

  Luke picked up a glob of mud and threw it at Nirsch. Now he was laughing too. The next thing they knew, they were throwing mud at each other and laughing so hard that tears streamed down their faces. The world had changed forever, millions of people had died needlessly, and they were acting like a couple of high school kids at a Friday night kegger.

  After a few minutes, they cleaned themselves up with handfuls of snow and walked back up the road to look for the elk that had caused so much chaos.

  “Over here,” Luke called.

  Nirsch ran up to Luke. The elk that’d hit them was a cow, a big one. She weighed at least five hundred pounds.

  “What do you think?” Luke said. “Should we take a little back-strap for our troubles?”

  Without giving an answer, Nirsch pulled a knife from his pocket and smiled. “Sure. I might need it before I get to the ranch.” He skinned the hide back over the spine and cut out one of the three-foot backstraps. He also decided to skin a hindquarter.

  “That oughta’ do it,” Nirsch said.

  “You’re pretty fast at that, and in the dark even. Looks like you’ve had practice.”

  “Let’s just say I haven’t always hunted legally.”

  They threw the meat in the back of the truck and continued down the road.

  “What do you plan on doin’ when we get back to Lakeview?”

  “I plan on dropping you at your place, getting some extra water from you, and continuing on to Seneca. I want to get as far as I can before daylight. I’ll leave the ATV with you, along with the generators. I’ll take mostly back roads when I leave Lakeview. I don’t think there’ll be anywhere the pickup can’t go. I’ll also give you one of the portable fuel pumps.”

  “Won’t you need the ATV when you get home?”

  “No, I’ve got some already. I built an EMP-proof storage bunker and had some things stored ther
e.”

  “What about that GPS thing you took out of the pickup? Is there one on the ATV?”

  “No. The ATVs are a shorter-range vehicle. The military didn’t see the need to fit them with trackers.” They came off the mountain and into the valley. A road sign told them they were thirty-six miles from Lakeview. “About half an hour and you should be home,” Nirsch said. “I wish I could say the same. I’ve got at least eight or nine hours left.”

  “Which way you goin’ back?”

  “I’ll go through Paisley to Fort Rock, then cut over to Highway 20, then through Paulina, and come out in Bear Valley on the Izee Highway. It’ll take about two hours longer, but I want to avoid the bigger towns. I’m hoping to make it at least to the Paulina highway before daylight. I plan on holing up somewhere in the morning, building a fire, cooking a little elk steak, and resting till dark. Driving during the day in the only working vehicle around is a great way to get shot.”

  Nirsch navigated a turn and glanced briefly at the sheriff who’d become a friend. “Luke, you’ve been a huge help. You and your wife and your parents are welcome to come with me to the ranch. We’re well set up. We could use a good man like you.”

  Luke smiled briefly and shook his head. “As tempting as that is, I’ve got to stay here and help the folks in Lake County. These people are like family to me. They’ll be scared and lookin’ for answers. With what I’ve learned in the last eight hours, hopefully I can provide some. I have no doubt that as soon as the dust settles, these people will all come together and do whatever it takes to provide for and protect our community.”

  They rode in silence the last twenty miles.

  The scene in Lakeview wasn’t as bad as Klamath. There were wrecked cars but no houses burning nor any evidence of rioting. Several groups of people walked around helping the injured. Hurt people were being loaded into a couple of wagons. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at them as they drove through town.

  “Wagons?” Nirsch said. “Who still has wagons?”