by M. L. Banner
“Thanks, Miguel, follow me.” Sally led him back to the faux kitchen and out the back door.
“Okay, where was I?” Bill watched his daughter and their new friend go get their only means of escape. “So, Max long ago had been watching us. I didn’t read this, but it just makes sense when you think about it. The funding for my business, remember? It came from some unknown source. The scholarship for Sally, and later for Darla. Our chance meeting with Max in Mexico. His mysteriously brokering the purchase of our home–well, what was our home …” Bill’s words faded as he spoke them.
~~~
Judas Feinstein heard voices, just above the loud ringing in his ears. He was sure he had to be dead after having been severely burned and then blown up. He didn’t believe in the afterlife, no matter what the traditions of his Jewish family from the UK told him, and these voices weren’t angelic in any way. He recognized the dialect as Mexican Drug-Dealer.
Then the pain started to rocket through his body, like shockwaves. The voices were louder, and he looked up, his head barely moving. There were three men, all staring at Thompson’s house—rather, at what was left of it. Two looked bloody and slumped over, and the other was arguing with them. Judas was able to recognize some of the Spanish: “… all dead…” “… what now?” “… go back…”
He noticed he was on the same street as them, in between Clydeston’s house and Thompson’s warehouse, although he couldn’t remember walking this far. His AK was right in front of him. Maybe he could take them out before they saw him. Pushing himself up on his knees, he saw and remembered the state he was in. His shirt was burnt off and so were most of his pants. The pain was almost unbearable, but he didn’t care now. He was angry at these people who ruled his life with their guns and fear and he wasn’t going to take it anymore. Judas reached over and dragged the gun his way; the racket should have, but didn’t, alert his targets. He held the gun up, pointed it, pulled the trigger and nothing happened. He tried to pull the charging handle, remembering Clyde taught him how to load the gun, but it wouldn’t budge. Okay, maybe it’s loaded already, he grumbled in thought, gotta take off the bloody safety. He turned the rifle closer and flipped the lever down. That should do it.
The Spanish was louder and panicked. Judas looked up and saw all three men scrambling for their rifles on the ground; one already had his and was pointing it Judas’s way. He wasn’t going to give them the chance. Aiming it again, he squeezed the trigger, and a fusillade of bullets tore at the pavement in front of him, working its way up to the men, and then to the sky, knocking Judas on his back. He scrambled to right himself, not unlike a turtle pushed over on his shell, his legs folded under, pinned down by his body and arms flailing around. He rolled over, pushed himself up again, and looked; there was no movement from any of the men. As he dropped the rifle he noticed two things: the RPG he’d taken was also right in front of him, and he had been shot in the chest.
“Bloody hell,” he cursed, almost indifferent. “Well if I can’t enjoy Thompson’s warehouse, neither can anyone else.” Blood from his chest wound poured down his large frame and pooled on the ground where he sat cross-legged. He reached for the RPG.
~~~
“Oh my God, the whole time Max knew us, our family, and he started helping us before we even knew him? That’s hard to believe…” Lisa trailed off in thought after Bill had told her and Maria his story.
Gunfire erupted right outside the window, albeit muffled by the thick insulation and heavy glass. They all stepped closer to see what had happened. Amid the debris, a fat naked man with fire-blackened skin slowly rose up and then sat cross-legged. A red hole in his chest attested to his having been hit by one of the shots they heard. He reached out for something, which he picked up from the debris of Max’s exploded house. It was an RPG. He pointed it right at them. His face, a repulsive mix of fat and charred skin, wore a vindictive grin.
They were about to hit the floor, knowing immediately that they were in trouble, when another sound came from the left side of the house. Judas tried to turn that way, but was bent as far as his broken, bulbous body would allow. He had dropped the RPG and now struggled to pick it up again, when Sally’s Blazer burst onto the street. She barreled over him and the weapon before he could fire, screeched to a halt, and backed up to make sure the job was done right.
Lisa had never thought she would be in a position to cheer on the killing of another, but she was now. “Way to go, Sally!”
48.
The Proposal
Laramie, Wyoming
They estimated their own dead to number over one hundred, although they wouldn’t know for sure for a few days. The important statistic was that every one of the invaders was dead. They now had their town back, and they would rebuild.
Their losses were enormous; the biggest was that of Frank Patton, one of the great heroes of the “Siege on Fort Laramie,” as some of the townies were calling it. As everyone congregated in the streets, they offered congratulations and thanks especially to Melanie and Dr. Carrington, or Doc as they liked to call him. Overwhelmed by exhaustion, Carrington and Melanie retired to their room, off their workshop, where a couple of the town council members were still sitting and discussing plans for rebuilding.
Melanie lit two candles and Carrington sat, watching her intently.
“What?” Melanie blew out the match. “Did I say or do something wrong?”
“No, you were amazing today. That was so brilliant with the water tank.” Carrington smiled, but then the smile went away.
“Thanks, though I’m sure you would have thought of it too… Wait, what’s wrong?” Concerned, she took a step toward him.
“You better sit down. I need to tell you something, which I haven’t really discussed with you, since we have been focused on this one goal of protecting the town together.”
She put hands on hips and tilted her head, arching one brow. “And so?”
“And so … Laramie was not my destination when I found you.”
“I know, you were headed to some sort of research facility …” She could see where this was going, and the whole thing lit her anger.
Carrington looked down at his shoes. “Well, that wasn’t entirely correct. It’s called Cicada, and it is a small city of pre-selected researchers and scientists and their families, but only them and their families, all working together to find answers to save humanity. I had not planned to be gone this long and should have been there long ago.”
“I know, I know, you have to go.” Melanie’s tone was very detached. “I’m not going to keep you here. And don’t worry about the town, they’ll forgive my little fib; it was mine after all. So, you don’t have to worry—”
“I want you to come with me.”
She was silent for maybe a minute. Hope started to pour through her like a warm elixir. “You already said that it was only pre-selected researchers and scientists and their families. I’m neither.”
He held up a little box. Tex, the only one who knew their secret, had arranged the ring and the box for him, only yesterday. He tried, but his lips were unable to form the right words; he had thought he had a couple of more days to practice.
“What’s this?” Melanie asked expectantly.
“I want you to come with me as my wife, my real wife this time.” He liked the way this came out; much better than his proposal to his first wife.
“Are you serious? Sorry, that was just a slip of the tongue, y’know, to keep the men away until I found my place in this town. You’re much older than me and…and…” She was running out of excuses.
Carrington’s face dropped. That wasn’t the answer he had hoped for. “Look, I’m a widower and I never expected to care for another woman again, mostly because I didn’t want to suffer that pain again. But, something happened with our working together. And… well, I think I have fallen in love with you. More to the point, I cannot imagine being apart from you as I look forward every day to sleeping in the same room as you. Yes, I�
�m older, I admit that, and you are certainly young and beautiful, so I would expec—”
She interrupted him with a kiss, his mouth curving into a smile against hers. “Yes. The answer is yes,” she said, and kissed him again.
49.
Sadness and Signs
Wright Ranch, Illinois
They walked up the driveway after scrambling over the gate, Steve and Darla ahead of Joselin. Steve carried Danny. There was a little light left from the sun, which had set twenty minutes ago, but the skies again illuminated the world below in green auroral light. It was Doc Reynolds who saw them first and called out to Wilber. “Yo Wilber, Steve is back and he brought some guests.” He stopped when he saw Steve carrying the body of a child and the two women wearing the olive green tees of God’s Army. Maybe Steve was being held hostage or something. “Whoa, wait right there,” he said holding his gun on Darla and Joselin.
“It’s all right.” Steve spoke up first. “This is my…” He fumbled, trying to find the right words.
“Girlfriend,” Darla answered.
“Yes, girlfriend, and this,” he said as he lifted the body a bit, “is her little brother, Danny, who was shot by one of God’s Army, because they were deserting.” Steve’s eyes wandered to three dug graves and three bodies. One looked like his father.
“Is that …”His eyes darted around looking for another possibility. “Is that my father?” He could feel his throat tighten, and his words were choked.
“I’m afraid so,” said Wilber, coming up behind the doc. “He killed the leader of their army.”
“Disciple Thomas?” Joselin asked.
“I don’t know, but everyone from your army left and there didn’t appear to be any other leaders coming forward, so I’m just guessing.”
“It’s not my army, not anymore. Can I see?” Joselin walked up to the other adult and pulled back the blanket covering him. There was a hole where his eye socket had been, and part of his face was missing. The rest of him was badly burnt, but there still was no mistaking him. “Yep, that’s Thomas, and he was the leader, only second to the Teacher, who doesn’t go into battle. The Teacher is the spiritual leader of God’s Army.”
“Well thank you for that,” Wilber said. “You are welcome to join us, if you are no longer a part of that group. And Steve, why don’t you let me take him and you pay your respects to your father.” He took Danny’s body gently into his arms. “I’m sorry, miss?” he said, facing Darla.
“It’s Darla.”
“Do you want me to bury your brother too?”
She nodded. “Yes, I’ll help dig.”
~~~
They had a nice little service for everyone, including Thomas. Turns out when it came to God, Robert Simpson had lots to say. He’d been a church elder for years. He offered a beautiful eulogy for everyone and then prayed a prayer that brought tears to all the mourners, even Joselin.
They then buried the bodies in the four graves they had dug. Afterward, Wilber had everyone come inside and sit down so he could talk to them.
“Here’s the deal,” Wilber opened, looking at all who were gathered around their dining room table, lit by a dozen or so candles. “This is a horrible lot we’ve all inherited, but it’s about to get a lot worse. Those two clouds you saw were from nuclear power plants only a few miles from here. Both plants I’m pretty sure have gone to meltdown, just like Chernobyl. An uncountable amount of radiation is being sent into our atmosphere and, although the jet streams blow it away from us, the radiation will make its way to this ranch within a week or two. Then, I probably don’t have to tell you, if we’re still here, we will all die horrible deaths.”
He paused to make sure everyone had followed along. “Now it’s true, I have a lot of food and water here, but we cannot stay here any longer. Instead, tomorrow morning, Olivia and I will be leaving this ranch and walking to New Mexico, to my brother’s ranch there. You are all welcome to join us. I figure, if we can maintain a decent pace, it’ll take us about ninety days. Honestly, I cannot promise any of us will make it there, but if we do, it’ll be a safe place. There’s a natural canyon that would be easy to protect, so I feel right sayin’ it’ll be safe. There is plenty of game and natural water there. It’s beautiful and we all have an open invitation. Who would like to come?”
The group around the table was silent for a long time. Robert and Emma held hands while looking at each other, before Robert turned and spoke to Wilber and then the group. “We really appreciate the offer, but we have to decline. If it’s all right with you, we would like to stay here our remaining days.” He squeezed his wife’s hand and kissed her.
“You know what that means?” Wilber asked the obvious.
“Of course, but you know that Emma’s time is coming pretty soon. The cancer is back strong, without the chemotherapy.” He looked to Doc Reynolds, who held his head down, not wanting to admit that he was losing another patient. “Without my wife, I’m not too interested in living any longer in this world. I’ll take my chances if it is all the same to you.”
Olivia had already arisen from the table and draped herself over Emma.
“Okay.” Wilber knew he wouldn’t change their minds. “Anyone else?”
“We’re in,” Steve said, looking at Darla and holding her hand.
“Joselin, you’re coming too, right?” Darla looked at a concerned face and reached out with her other hand.
“You sure I’m not a third wheel?” she asked.
“No!” Steve answered quickly. “That makes us three,” he said with confidence.
Joselin wore a wide grin.
“Doc, am I goin’ to have to hog-tie you to make you come?” Wilber asked.
Doc looked at Emma and then Robert and finally Wilber. “Won’t be necessary. I’ll come.”
“Okay, then it’s settled. I know you’re tired, but let’s get packed right now, while my beautiful wife cooks us some grub. Deal?”
They worked together, piling supplies on the porch and then stopping for dinner. There was much conversation, as they compared their life stories, cried, and even laughed a little before calling it a night. The next day was going to be the start of a very long and most likely difficult journey.
~~~
Fossil Ridge, Illinois
The Teacher endured a disquieted sleep, often stirring and dreaming. He woke from the last dream sitting up in his bed, bathed in sweat and screaming. It had been first magical and then disturbing. He was walking west with hundreds of followers. When they came to the mountains, he looked and found a three-pointed mountain with a city below. This city had a dome over it and sparkled in the sunlight, and then he had another dream. Two radioactive clouds descended on the town he was in, while the townspeople were praying to him. The clouds burned everyone’s skin, causing much pain and suffering. Many scratched at their faces, opening up wounds and scraping flaps of skin, blood dripping and skin flopping onto the pavement below them, in a desperate attempt to stop the itch. The toxic clouds began asphyxiating everyone, including the Teacher. Just before he died, he woke up.
John rushed into his bedroom. He’d taken over since Thomas’s disappearance. “Teacher, are you all right?”
Breathing heavily, Paul responded, “Yes, I’m fine, John. In fact, God just spoke to me. We need to leave Fossil Ridge this morning.”
“Where will we go, Teacher?” As the first to hear of the latest revelation, John was understandably excited—and not a little nervous.
“We are going west, to a sanctuary in Colorado, to a place called Shicada.”
Thompson Journal Entry
Continued…
Where you will go
If we are separated and you must bug out of Rocky Point, I have set up two places for you to go:
Mexico Ranch
I have a ranch in northern Mexico; about eight hours’ drive from Rocky Point. It is fully stocked with enough food and supplies for eight people to hold out for two years or longer. There is a natural water
supply, and an abundance of wildlife to hunt. However, this is not the ultimate place for you to go. It is a stopping off point, perfect if you need to stop for days, weeks, etc. It is not a long-term solution.
So, if you are able to make the long journey, I would go to this place instead:
Cicada
If the world as we know it ends tomorrow, you should plan on going to Cicada. As you know, I have been planning for the world’s end my entire adult life, but I personally cannot plan for everything, although I certainly have tried. It also helps that I have almost unlimited resources.
Cicada was a project started by my great-grandfather, Russell Thompson, as a refuge for humanity in the event of an apocalypse. He never realized his dream for some of the reasons discussed in this journal. When I took over the project, I decided to bring in the best scientific minds from different fields so that together, when the apocalypse did happen, Cicada would be humanity’s best hope for survival.
Either this journal or my presence will be your ticket to entry. Once there, your family and whomever you bring with you will be safe.
50.
Adios
Rocky Point, Mexico
Their work was done solemnly and quietly, packing the Blazer and preparing themselves for what all knew would be a long and arduous journey. Before deciding on their course of action, they reviewed the journal and map together and discussed the merits of going to Cicada via Max’s ranch, versus the longer distance to Cicada straight north and then through Tucson. The journey to Max’s ranch and then on to Cicada was shorter, but there were greater negatives to this route: they would have to leave eventually, but far more worrisome was the long stretch spent in Mexico. It was agreed that their safest bet was to avoid the hundreds of miles of potential cartel members they might run into in Mexico and instead take the quickest route out of Mexico even though it meant more miles to drive overall–mostly in the US.