Broken Lines Omnibus: A Tale of Survival in a Powerless World

by James Hunt

  When Tom and Jung carried Jenna inside Mike finally got up, still holding his family close. Everyone stared at each other for a moment. Anne was the first to speak when she saw that Jenna was hurt.

  “What happened?” Anne asked.

  “She was shot. I’ll grab the spare cot downstairs and bring it up,” Mike said.

  Mike rummaged through the basement searching for the cot and found it lying on its side against some of the medical supplies. On his way back he glanced at the gun cabinet. It was unlocked.

  Mike set the cot up in the living room and Tom and Jung set Jenna down on it to rest. Anne felt Jenna’s forehead with the back of her hand.

  “She’s burning up. I’ll grab some Ibuprofen and some new bandages to dress her wounds,” Anne said.

  “Dad, I can’t believe you’re here,” Freddy said looking up at his father.

  Mike scooped him up and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  “I missed you, bud,” Mike said.

  “I missed you too.”

  When Ulysses opened the door of his room he noticed that he was drying his eyes on the corner of his shirt. He didn’t say anything but walked up to Mike and gave him a hug, squishing Freddy in between the two of them.

  “It’s good to have you home, son,” Ulysses said.

  “Thanks, Pop.”

  ***

  Jenna lay passed out on the cot. She had fresh bandages on her shoulder and Anne had given her some of the antibiotics that Ray was taking. Everyone was crowded around the kitchen table.

  After introductions the group caught up on what happened. Ulysses and Anne explained about the storm and the tree falling, which hurt Ray’s leg and the trip to town where Ulysses found Mary and her sisters. She purposefully left out the situation with Kalen. She would fill Mike in about that later in private.

  “The bikers killed everyone,” Mary said.

  Mike noticed that her voice was emotionless. She stood there not with a face of pain, but of solace. He couldn’t imagine what those three girls had gone through, but he found it odd how put together she seemed after what happened. Maybe it was her way of coping.

  Mike explained what Nelson had done and how he saved him after the house caught fire. He told them about the trip and the detour to the airport, the boy who shot Jenna, and the trip to the farm.

  After the explanations Anne, Mary, and Tom, who claimed to be an excellent cook, started breakfast for everyone. Powdered eggs, dried fruit, and nuts were on the menu. Tom explained that he didn’t have access to his normal ingredients and he did the best he could, but nobody cared. It was the first hot meal any of them had in days.

  When breakfast was over they did some rearranging. The cabin was built to only hold five and there were now eighteen of them. Mary, Nancy, Erin, Kalen, and Fay would crash in Kalen’s room. Nelson, Sean, Ulysses, and Freddy would stay in Ulysses’ room. Jung, Jenna, Jung Jr. and Claire would get Freddy’s room. Clarence, Tom, and Ray would be in the living room. Mike and Anne would stay in their room, which they tried to give up, but nobody would take.

  It took most of the morning to get everyone situated and by the time they did it was lunchtime. They cracked open the canned food and had lunch outside. Mike noticed that Mary kept glancing at the smoke rising from the town. She caught him looking at her once and didn’t look back at the town again.

  There were chores to get done, but Mike put them all off. He did nothing except be with his family. Everything that needed to be done he would put off until tomorrow. That was his gift to himself for making it this far.

  The day went by fast. Everyone got along well enough. There were some awkward moments with everyone coming in and out of the outhouse, but for the most part it went smoothly.

  That night Mike walked into his father’s room to tuck Freddy in. His son was in his sleeping bag on the ground. He watched Freddy’s smile as he ran his fingers through his son’s hair. He kissed his son’s forehead.

  “I love you,” Mike said.

  “I love you, too.”

  Mike pulled the pocket watch out and set it down in Freddy’s hands. Freddy picked it up by its chain and it spun, sparkling in the candlelight.

  “That was your grandfather’s. I want you to have it,” Mike said.

  Freddy flipped the watch open. The hands ticked steadily forward. The time was in roman numerals.

  “Thanks, Dad,” Freddy said.

  When Mike walked to Kalen’s room the girls were settling in. Kalen had tried giving up the bed, but no one would take it. Mike looked at her like when she was a little girl, her hair messy and curly, looking up at him with her big brown eyes. He weaved in and out of the girls on the floor and made it to the side of her bed where he sat.

  “I missed you, kiddo,” Mike said.

  “I missed you too, Dad.”

  Mike placed his hand over hers, which lay across her stomach. He rubbed her fingers in his rough hands and bent down and kissed her on the cheek.

  “I’m glad you’re safe,” Mike said.

  Ray, Tom, and Clarence were sprawled out in the living room. Ray on the couch, and Tom and Clarence on the floor.

  “Night, guys,” Mike said walking down the hallway to his room.

  “Night,” they said together.

  Mike pushed the door to his room open. Candles flickered and Anne was lying across the bed, waiting for him. He lingered in the doorway for a moment looking at her. She wore an old T-shirt of his and her hair fell down to her shoulders. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever laid eyes on. He shut the door behind him and crawled into bed next to her.

  “Hey,” Mike said

  “Hey.”

  The light from the candles danced across their faces. They lay there holding each other until their lips met. Mike breathed deep the moment his lips hit hers. He pulled her closer, her body running the length of his.

  Anne pulled herself back after a moment.

  “What is it?” Mike asked.

  “Mike, something happened on our way to the cabin.”

  He noticed that her voice sounded scared.

  “What?” Mike asked.

  “We stopped halfway here. Freddy needed to go to the bathroom and couldn’t hold it, so your dad pulled over next to a wooded area.”

  Mike’s heart pounded through his chest. His mind flashed back to the corpse he saw just beyond the Ohio borderline where they camped a few nights ago.

  “She went into the woods and there was someone there,” Anne said.

  Mike got out of bed. His adrenaline coursed through his veins.

  “Your dad was able to get there before anything happened, but she got beat up a little.”

  “Someone tried to rape my daughter?”

  “Honey, she’s okay. Your dad got to her in time.”

  Mike fell back against the wall. He slid down to the floor across from the bed. He buried his face in his hands. He played the scenario over in his head: the man grabbing her from behind, tossing her to the ground, pulling a knife to her throat, ripping her clothes off.

  Anne crawled out of bed and bent down to her husband. She took his hands off his face and held them in hers.

  “My baby girl,” Mike said, his eyes watering with tears.

  Anne cradled his head in her chest. He let himself go. His shoulders shook as the sobs left his body.

  ***

  Mike slept well past sunrise into the next day. When he woke he stretched his neck, cracked his knuckles, wincing at the stiffness and pain throughout his body. He looked over and saw that Anne was already out of bed.

  The living room and kitchen were buzzing with kids laughing and chasing each other, Ulysses and Ray debating baseball statistics, Fay showing Mary and Kalen her tattoos, Jung and his children still yawning from waking up, Freddy eating a bowl of cereal complaining about the powdered milk with his hair sticking straight up and Anne trying to put it down.

  Mike thought of all of the implications of having this group here. The shortage of food,
water, medical supplies, the danger of being seen and heard, protecting them from danger, all of these things ran through his mind. He thought of the biker gang in the town a mile away who already murdered several people. As he glanced around the room and looked to each of them individually he wasn’t sure he could keep them alive until his eyes found his wife. She stood straight, her head held back with a smile in her eyes. He saw how strong she was, how she had held everyone together while he was gone. He could make it through this. They could all survive.

  When the group noticed him standing quietly in the hallway, they all stopped what they were doing and watched him. They looked to him with the hope that he could keep them alive.

  Day 8 (Katie)

  When Katie turned onto 24th Street her jaw dropped. The cars along the streets were trashed with bullet holes and broken windows. The houses were violated by looters breaking in and stealing whatever they could find. A few trashcans smoldered from the remains of firs started, then left alone to burn out.

  Sam walked behind her, his pistol at the ready, on alert for any signs of danger. When they walked past Mike’s house she covered her mouth. It was nothing more than a burnt pile of wreckage.

  Katie looked at the two crosses sitting in the Beachums’ yard. The two mounds of dirt rising from the Earth caused her heart to sink in her stomach.

  “Your house?” Sam asked.

  “No.”

  Katie pulled the front door to her own house open. The door creaked, as it swung open. She lingered there in the doorframe, afraid of what she’d find inside. When she finally crossed the threshold, she tiptoed gently.

  Most of the house was intact. When Katie walked past the living room she stopped. All of the furniture was rearranged.

  Sam stood patiently in the foyer, watching her examine the living room. He could see pictures of her family along the walls leading up the staircase.

  The couch legs squeaked against the wooden floorboards when she pushed it aside, allowing herself into the circle of furniture. The empty space in the middle suggested there was something there before, but whatever Nelson and Sean had left her was gone.

  Katie sat down on one of the chairs. She looked up at their family portrait hanging above the fireplace. The photo was taken last fall. On their way to the studio that day she remembered the leaves falling from the trees and gathering on the road. The faded browns and oranges of fall decorated the black pavement. She could hear Sean laughing in the back seat from Nelson’s singing, begging for him to stop.

  Katie forgot Sam’s presence until he spoke very quietly.

  “Mrs. Miller,” Sam said.

  Katie continued to look at the family portrait. That day she was thinking of in her mind seemed so far away.

  “I’m never going to see them again, Sam,” Katie said.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do. Look at the rest of the neighborhood. They either died when everything collapsed on them, or they ran off. Either way, I won’t be able to find them.”

  “Maybe they headed back into the city looking for you.”

  “I hope not. I hope they got as far away from this place as they could.”

  Katie leaned forward, burying her face in her hands. She didn’t cry and she didn’t feel angry, she was just tired. She was foolish to think she could find them, to think that they were still here. Of course they left, just as she should have left the city the first day the blast hit.

  “I’m going to look around, make sure the rest of the house is secure,” Sam said.

  Katie nodded her head. She leaned back into the chair, sliding down against the burgundy velvet seat. Her eyes focused lazily on the fireplace. She could feel her eyelids drooping down, the exhaustion from the day of traveling hitting her all at once. She tilted her head down, and that’s when she saw the crumpled up ball under the couch.

  Her head perked up. She dropped to her hands and knees and reached under the couch, grasping the ball of paper in her hands. She smoothed the crumpled sheet out on the couch. After reading it, a few tears fell and stained the edges.

  Sam came back downstairs and stopped when he saw her crying.

  “Mrs. Miller?” he asked.

  Katie looked up at him. She was laughing through her sobs.

  “I know where they are.”

  Broken Ties

  Day 1 (First Day of Blackout)

  The trucks burst through the security gates and peeled out onto the highway. The military MPs were hot on their tails. Gunshots blasted back and forth from both sides. The driver of the lead truck, trying to escape, clicked his radio mic on.

  “When do we blow it? Well, how much farther do we have to go? They’ll have air support on our asses in less than two minutes! Roger that.”

  The driver clicked his mic off angrily. His passenger next to him, dressed in army fatigues, reloaded his rifle. The name McGuire was pasted on across the uniform.

  “What’d he say, Blake?” McGuire asked.

  Blake shifted into sixth gear as the speedometer pushed to ninety.

  “We can’t blow it until we’re twenty miles out,” Blake said.

  “Shit, are you serious?”

  “Yeah.”

  Blake checked the side rearview mirror and saw an RPG flying into the rear truck. The blast almost shook them off the road, and fire and metal flew through the air.

  “We’re not gonna make it!” McGuire screamed.

  “Tell Team Two to hop on the fifty-caliber,” Blake said.

  “Copy that.”

  McGuire flipped on the radio and gave the instructions to the truck behind them. A few minutes later, they could hear the thunderous shots of the gun blasting away at the MPs chasing them.

  “You sure they won’t be able to crack the code before we launch?” McGuire asked.

  “They won’t be able to get through the fire wall.”

  “How much further?”

  “Fifteen miles.”

  “Slow down.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll have Team Two catch up with us, and then we’ll concentrate fire.”

  “Copy that.”

  McGuire moved to the backseat of the truck and jumped through the opening in the roof to man the .50-caliber on their armored truck.

  He racked the chamber, and when the second truck moved into position, he squeezed the trigger. Between the two guns, they lit up the cars behind them like fireworks.

  Blake had the gas pedal almost all the way to the floor. The speedometer was over 100 miles per hour. He did his best to keep the wheel steady, but with the increased speed any sort of adjustments were jerky.

  Only twelve more miles.

  “How we looking back there?” Blake asked.

  “They’re starting to drop back, but we’ve got choppers coming inbound fast,” McGuire replied.

  Blake knew that once air support made it their way, they’d be toast. He didn’t have an option.

  “McGuire! Come down and take the wheel,” Blake said.

  McGuire descended back into the truck, and he grabbed hold of the wheel while Blake kept his foot on the gas. He pulled the laptop from his bag and flipped it open.

  His fingers flew across the keyboard, opening files and entering passcodes until a screen finally popped up that read, “Launch Code Sequence.”

  “I thought we had to be twenty miles out?” McGuire asked.

  “We do.”

  “Then what are you doing?”

  “Keeping us alive.”

  Blake finished typing in the last piece of code and hit enter. Behind them, they could hear the blastoff of the missile launching into the atmosphere.

  Day 13 (The Cabin)

  Mike’s hand twitched on the clipboard and the pen dropped to the floor. He winced, forming a fist, fighting through the pain. He paused, letting his will gather to force his hand open again. Once the shaking subsided he bent down to pick up the pen.

  The shelves in the basement of the cabin were still lined w
ith rations, but Mike knew it wouldn’t last them much longer. He’d planned for a six-month supply of food, but that was for five people. Now he had seventeen mouths to feed. If they kept consuming at the rate they were going the shelves would be barren in a matter of weeks.