Breakdown: A Post-Apocolyptic Survival series (Dark Road Book 1)

by Bruno Miller

  “I’m coming, hang on,” Joel said.

  Ben smiled a little. He could always get Joel’s attention when there was food involved.

  Joel came down the stairs and headed right for the fridge to pour himself a glass of milk.

  “How was the last day of school?” Ben asked.

  “Pretty good. Glad the year is over. I’m so ready for summer,” Joel said with relief.

  “Did you guys make it up to Lemon after school and take the plunge?” Ben asked.

  Joel seemed a little surprised. “Uh, yeah we went up there after school.” He immediately took a big bite of cookie that even Gunner would have had a hard time swallowing, hoping to buy some time in the conversation.

  “I was young once, too, you know,” Ben said with a grin. Joel’s answer had been kind of indirect, but he got that his son might not want to go into the details of what they’d done. “It’s okay, I know things,” he chuckled.

  Joel looked a little embarrassed, looking down sheepishly after being called out.

  “You know Danny Whitman?” Joel asked. “He plays attack position on my lacrosse team.”

  “Yeah,” Ben said.

  “He didn’t make out so good today up at Lemon. He hurt his arm when he jumped. Brian and I had to help him out of the water.”

  “That sounds pretty brave of you guys.” Ben had a feeling Joel was leaving out the heroics, but it was a small enough town. Ben would hear the details sooner or later. “I’m sorry to hear he got hurt. What happened?”

  “I don’t know, I guess he landed wrong. You know Danny, always showing off. Anyway, it was no big deal. He drove himself home, so it probably isn’t that bad.” Joel shrugged. “Brian and I made the jump without any trouble, but you know we used common sense. Something Danny lacks,” Joel was quick to add.

  “Well, I hope he’s okay. It wouldn’t be much fun spending the summer with your arm in a cast, would it?” Ben asked, implying that it could have been Joel that was hurt. “Let’s not make a habit out of the plunge thing, okay?”

  Joel guiltily nodded. “Yes, sir, I won’t, just a one-time thing.”

  Ben and Joel talked for a while at the table, mostly about tomorrow’s adventure but a little about Joel’s future and his desire to join the military. Time flew by and when Ben looked at his watch, it was approaching eleven.

  “All right, Buddy, that’s it for me tonight. And I suggest you get some sleep as well. Six a.m. is going to roll around before you know it, and I definitely want to get out of here early and capitalize on the day.”

  “Yeah, I’m gettin’ kind of tired myself.”

  “Good night, love ya,” Ben said.

  “Love you, too.” Joel made his way up the stairs to his room.

  Ben finished tidying up and got ready for bed himself. He felt very satisfied to finally lie down in bed and have the day behind him. He ran through a quick checklist in his mind and confirmed everything was ready for their trip. Now if he could only quiet his mind, he could get some much needed rest. News blurbs from a radio show he had listened to earlier in the day echoed in his head.

  The insults and threats had been lobbed back and forth for years now between the U.S. and North Korea. There was nothing unusual about that, but things had seemed to escalate in recent months with North Korea’s nuclear capability increasing steadily. The previous U.S. administration had made many promises of action if they pursued a nuclear program but failed to act on them. Meanwhile the North Korean regime had done just that and recently been successful at detonating a 50-kiloton-plus bomb that greatly enhanced their confidence. They lacked a delivery system capable of reaching the U.S. at this time, as far as anyone knew, but claimed to be developing that technology. As of yet, they hadn’t managed to prove those capabilities beyond a few smaller missiles and one nuclear-capable Hwasong-12 intermediate-range missile that ended in the Sea of Japan. The Hwasong-12 ICBM (intercontinental ballistic missile) flew only half of its capable range. Missile defense systems in both Japan and the U.S. failed to intercept the ICBM. Although it was not carrying a payload, it was one step closer to presenting a direct threat to the U.S. Ben knew it was only a matter of time and wasn’t sure how it would all turn out, but he was certain this high stakes game of chicken was bound to end poorly.

  The last thing Ben recalled was looking at the dim light of his bedside alarm clock, excited for tomorrow. Too tired to think about anything else today, he drifted off.

  Ben rubbed his eyes as he sat up in bed, there was still time before the alarm went off but he decided to get a start on the day, anyway. He enjoyed a little extra time in the shower. This would be his last for a few days and he wanted to extract the full benefit of the hot water and steam as it eased his muscles.

  Once he got dressed, he hauled his pack out to the mud room and set it by the door. He shuffled back into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee so he could concentrate on making them a good breakfast. He checked the time and figured he would let Joel sleep another ten minutes or so while he loaded the Jeep.

  When he came back in he was glad to see Joel at the table eating breakfast with his pack at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Morning,” Joel said.

  “Good morning,” Ben replied. “I thought I would have to get you up this morning.”

  “Not a chance. I want to get going as soon as we can.” Joel’s eyes lit with excitement. “I can’t wait to get up there today.”

  Gunner impatiently paced back and forth from Joel at the table to Ben in the kitchen. He could sense that this was no ordinary morning. All the activity and gear being packed meant that they were all going somewhere. Even Gunner had his own doggie backpack that Ben filled with dog food and treats for camping trips such as this.

  Ben loaded Joel’s gear in the Jeep while he finished his breakfast. He also made sure the house was locked up except the front door and double checked that Joel’s truck was locked. They never had any problems with theft in this neighborhood, but they would be gone for a couple of days and Ben wanted to be certain.

  Joel and Gunner came out the front door. Joel stopped on the landing and looked at his dad. “You got everything? Want me to lock it behind me?”

  “Yep, that’s everything,” Ben replied. “Lock it. We’re ready.”

  Joel secured the door, then hustled to the Jeep. He opened the passenger door and Gunner launched himself into the truck and quickly occupied the front before Joel had a chance to.

  Ben laughed.

  “Um, do you mind dog?” Joel hooked his thumb toward the rear of the Jeep. “Get in the back, Gunner.”

  With a woof, Gunner repentantly turned and hopped onto the rear bench seat where he made himself comfortable.

  Ben shook his head. Gunner had tried to reclaim his right to ride shotgun shortly after Joel had gotten his driver’s license and always rode in the front with Ben when it was just the two of them.

  He cranked the engine and they took off, headed to a trailhead just above Vallacito Lake. The drive would take about an hour, mostly because the last ten miles or so were narrow dirt roads.

  Midway around the lake they turned off onto a Jeep trail and went another five miles to the Los Pinos River trailhead. From there they would continue their journey on foot.

  Ben parked, they got their gear out, and he locked up the vehicle. They put their packs on, Gunner included, and headed up the trail for a few miles until they reached a spot where the river forked and then merged back together after a few hundred yards around a large grassy area that formed an island.

  The river ran shallow on one side and was pretty easy to wade across. Gunner led the way with reckless abandon, splashing water everywhere, then abruptly stopped and waited for them on the opposite bank while they hobbled over the loose river rock and balanced against the current.

  The water was cold and clear, not yet clouded by silt from the winter melt at this altitude. The vegetation was sparse but showing signs of recovery from a long cold winter. Thi
s spot was far enough up trail to escape the casual day hikers and occasional fly fisherman.

  Once they were situated on the island, they would be concealed from any passing hikers that did make it up this far. By the time they settled in at the campsite they were well over twelve thousand feet in elevation. There were thousands of great places to fly fish around Durango, but this place had a comfortable familiar feeling to them and was their own little slice of heaven.

  Ben let Joel decide on the place to set up their tents. He found a nice level spot on the far side of the island and they quickly unburdened themselves of the nearly fifty-pound packs. Joel unclipped Gunner’s pack and let it fall to the ground.

  Gunner seemed as relieved as they were to have arrived. He trotted down to the river a few yards away for a drink.

  “Dad, you want to see if anything’s biting?” Joel asked.

  “After I get squared away here, I’m going to go round up some firewood, and while I’m doing that maybe you can catch us some dinner.” Ben grinned at Joel. He knew his son was anxious to assemble his four piece backpacking fly rod and get his line wet, but tent setup came first.

  “I’m on it.” Joel said.

  As soon as Joel had finished with his tent, he quickly assembled his fly rod and threw his fly fishing lanyard around his neck.

  “Let’s go, boy.” Joel patted Gunner’s head as he started towards the river.

  “Have fun,” Ben said.

  “I’ll be back with dinner.” He stuffed one of his fly boxes into his shorts pocket.

  Ben watched his boy for a moment, pride filling his chest. It didn’t get any better than this. This trip, and the memories they’d make up here, were why he worked so hard. Some days were tough, but today made it all worthwhile.

  This was a trip they would never forget.

  Chapter Five

  Joel headed down river for about a quarter mile and fished his way back upstream, casting to every pool and slack water along the way.

  He noticed a fish rise several yards upstream and across the nearly twenty-yard wide section of river. There was a hatch of caddis flies going off, so Joel quickly tied on an elk hair caddis that he figured for a good imitation and crouched down as he cast to the spot.

  The fly drifted lazily downstream for a few seconds before the water exploded in an eruption of foam and bubbles. The slack line in his right hand flew through the rod guides until all the slack was gone. The rod tip bowed down and trembled from the struggling fish. The trout launched itself out of the water in protest of becoming dinner. Joel could see that it was a nice size and would probably be enough for both of them along with the MREs they had brought along.

  Gunner rushed out into the river up to his chest and watched the action excitedly.

  “Gunner, back up, boy, come on!” Joel called, trying to get Gunner out from between him and the trout as he waded deeper holding the rod tip up and trying not to break the trout off the line. Eventually the fish tired, and Joel was able to coax it in close enough to scoop it up in his net.

  “Woohoo, look at that, will you, Gunner! Now, that’s what I call dinner,” Joel shouted over the rushing water he was standing in as he looked down at a fat brown trout in his net. Normally, they practiced catch and release fishing, but when they were backcountry, they made an exception for the occasional fish over the legal size.

  Eager to show his dad the trout and realizing the sun was beginning to cast shadows across the river, Joel headed back to camp to show off his catch and get it cleaned for dinner.

  He marched into camp with the trout held high above his head. Gunner strained his nose to smell the air.

  “Well, look at that.” Ben nodded at the catch. “That’s a nice looking fish you got there.”

  “Put up a pretty good fight,” Joel boasted. “It inhaled an Elk Hair caddis down by the big boulder.”

  “Oh yeah, that pool there has always been a good spot,” Ben said. “That can be a tough spot to work. Good job!”

  Joel strolled to the water’s edge to gut and clean the fish while Ben opened up a couple MREs and started to prepare dinner.

  When Joel returned with the fish, Ben wrapped it in foil with a little salt and pepper and placed it on a hot rock at the edge of the fire. It only took about five minutes to cook before he pulled the fish off the rock using a couple sticks. Everything always tasted better when they were camping, and the trout was no exception.

  The two were silent for a while as they enjoyed their dinner. After they finished eating, they split a Hershey bar and lounged around the fire talking about life and Joel’s plans for the military after he graduated next year. They talked for a couple of hours as they stared up at the stars until Ben felt his eyes growing heavy and thought it best to call it a night.

  “Well, that’s it for me.” Ben stood up, arching his back and yawning. The trek up might not have worn out Joel, but Ben was feeling it.

  “How far do you want to hike up the river tomorrow? Are we going to check out that little creek, the one that runs off towards Granite Peak?” Joel asked.

  “Yeah, I think we should. We never got to check that out last time we were up here. Should be pretty good fishing down in that canyon. It’s worth the hike.”

  “Sounds good, I’m going to bed too then, if we’re hiking in that deep first thing in the morning.” Joel headed for his tent. Gunner stayed by the fire. “Lazy dog!”

  Ben unzipped his tent and climbed in backwards, sitting down first. He took off his boots at the threshold before carefully placing them inside the corner of the tent. He climbed the rest of the way in getting comfortable and began to zip up the fly when he paused just long enough to look at Joel about to head into his tent.

  “Good night, Buddy, sleep tight.”

  “Good night, Dad. See you in the morning.” Joel unzipped his tent.

  Gunner, on hearing the tent zipper, reluctantly got up from his spot near the dwindling fire and made his way into the tent ahead of Joel. “Well, help yourself why don’t you, dog.” Joel snorted.

  Gunner found a spot to his liking at the foot of Joel’s sleeping bag where he curled up and seemed to fall asleep almost instantly, ignoring Joel’s comment.

  * * *

  Joel took off his boots and climbed in the tent and straight into the sleeping bag. He pushed his feet down alongside Gunner, grateful for the warm spot the dog had already made. He took one last look at the stars before zipping up his tent and lying back in his bag.

  Gunner was already quietly snoring in contentment. Joel rolled his eyes. His thoughts quickly turning to dreams as he blissfully drifted off to sleep thinking about tomorrow’s adventures and maybe a little about Allie. He wondered if she was the outdoorsy type. He thought maybe she was. She’d come up to Lemon to watch them take the plunge, after all.

  Would she ever want to go fishing or camping like this? Some girls were grossed out by that kind of thing and didn’t like getting dirty, but he really hoped Allie was different.

  When they got back from their trip, he was definitely calling her.

  Maybe they would hit it off and she would end up being his girlfriend. He smiled, eyes closed, thinking about the possibility.

  Him and Allie. Boyfriend and Girlfriend. Wouldn’t that be a way to spend the summer? Better yet, wouldn’t that be a great way to start his senior year?

  Chapter Six

  Ben wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or if he’d actually heard something as he rubbed at his eyes. In fact, he thought he’d felt something, more so than he believed that he’d heard something. There it was again. He was awake, and the deep, earth-moving rumble that he heard and felt was real. Then he noticed a dim orange light filtering through the tent material, enough to cast faint shadows across things in the tent.

  “Hey, Joel!” Ben called out, simultaneously grabbing his shoes and unzipping the tent.

  Joel didn’t respond.

  “Joel, get up. Come on, get out here.” Ben made his way to his feet s
lowly. He remembered sleeping on the ground used to hurt a lot less in his younger days.

  Squinting upward he scanned the sky in the direction of the red-orange glow as he got his bearings and noticed that the clear night sky from earlier now seemed to be obscured by a sort of haze.

  “Northeast” Ben said to himself, realizing Joel hadn’t answered him yet. Just then, Ben heard a zipper and turned to see Joel’s head peek out from behind the tent flap.

  “What’s going on?” Joel asked, still very much asleep, and unlike Gunner, who was wide awake and pushed his way out of the tent past Joel through the small opening.

  “I’m not sure,” Ben said calmly, not wanting to alarm Joel.

  Just then another explosion to the south, this time much closer. Out of their tents, both of them now had a clear view. A bright orange flash overwhelmed the valley for a split second as Ben threw up his hand to cover his face from the sudden blast of light.

  “Don’t look at it!” Ben shouted.

  A deep bass rumbled up the valley and momentarily canceled out all other sound, followed a few seconds later by a warm breeze the likes of which Ben had never felt in the mountains before. The bright flash of light had diminished to a pale orange glow that seemed to be floating within a distant massive cloud that consisted of an ominous column of fire and blackness that reached well up into the atmosphere where it became encircled by a giant orange glowing ball of fire and smoke mixed with what seemed like lightning.

  They both stood there watching in silence for what felt like an eternity before either one of them said anything. This can’t be happening, Ben thought to himself, they actually did it.

  “Dad, uh, what’s going on? What is it?” Joel asked.

  “Son, I think we just witnessed a nuclear explosion,” Ben said solemnly. “I’m just guessing, but I would say that last one was over Vegas or maybe Albuquerque and the one before it that I caught the end of when I came out of the tent looked to be in the direction of Denver. I… I… I think they’re EMPs, Joel. High altitude nukes.” He ran his hand through his slightly graying brown hair.