The Last Full Measure

by Trent Reedy

  At the bottom of the screen you’ll see a list of those New York and DC area hospitals that are still open and able to receive patients, as well as temporary emergency medical facilities that military and civilian responders are scrambling to set up. Beginning with the Washington, DC, area •—

  —• of the Minuteman IV warheads, if that is, in fact, what we’re dealing with, is that they have an enormous yield. The energy of a Minuteman IV detonation is equivalent to five hundred kilotons of TNT. To put that into perspective, the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima during World War II had only a fifteen-kiloton yield.

  Preliminary estimates suggest that the air blast radius in the New York detonation spread from Brooklyn to New Jersey. Windows are blown out from the Park Slope area of Brooklyn all the way up to Harlem.

  Adding to the emergency is the electromagnetic pulse or EMP phenomenon. Nuclear detonations produce intense electromagnetic fields that create massive electrical surges in all electrical conductors in range. Had the explosions occurred in midair, the EMP would have had a far greater range, likely disrupting the electrical grid, electronic devices, and even vehicles across most of the continent. Two surface detonations are bad enough, however, and catastrophic damage has been dealt to electrical systems of all kinds along the entire East Coast. Tens of millions of Americans will be without power for quite some time.

  As if the immediate effects of the blasts weren’t enough, computer models suggest that radioactive fallout •—

  —• From NBC News West Coast headquarters in Los Angeles, I’m Adrienne Welch. On behalf of everyone here at NBC News, I’d like to begin this emergency broadcast by expressing the unbelievably heavy sadness we all feel after the loss of so many innocent lives. No doubt all of you are grieving terribly, just as we here in the studio are grieving for people like Byron Westbrook, Dennis Gavis, and other members of the NBC News family on both sides of the camera who are almost certainly no longer with us. I am now one of only two surviving NBC News anchors, and while I’ll admit that I am shaken to my soul, I promise to do my best to bring you the information you need just as soon as we have it.

  “And our sorrow reflects that of people around the world as a large portion of the northeast coast has been obliterated by two nuclear weapons. We’re scrolling critical information at the bottom of the screen, and you can tap any of the links in the window on the left for more information about emergency rescue, evacuation, medical, and other disaster relief facilities. We’re going to try to connect now with Clint Hipolito, who is in the air south of New York City. Clint, can you hear me? Are you there?”

  “… interference … I’m … aboard a plane … higher altitude where hopefully our signal can get out better. There’s a lot of debris, smoke, and fallout in the air. I think we’re above most of that now. I’ve got a good uplink with my Hummingbird CX80 camera drone, and I’m going to send you the feed to that video. Oh no. Are you … Are you seeing this?”

  “We have the video. It’s a little scratchy. It seems like, we’re looking at a close-up of the ruins of a burning building. I can see several collapsed floors. Is that —”

  “No, Adrienne. That’s a long shot of Manhattan. Not one building, but blocks and blocks of … destroyed homes and businesses. I’m trying to maneuver the drone closer to what looks like ground zero, or the new ground zero, I guess. It’s … Radiation degrades silicon chips. My control is breaking down and there’s a lot of signal interference. But can … See, there’s the blast crater. I’m comparing the drone’s latitude and longitude with old maps. Let me see … Ground zero appears to have been in Union Square. That’s all gone now. The crater is maybe a thousand feet across from interior rim to interior rim. Over twice that distance from outside edge to outside edge. About, maybe, two hundred feet deep. Well below sea level, but it looks like any water seeping in is boiling off in seconds. A lot of steam and smoke rising out of there. The skyline is so altered that it’s hard to find my way around. Camera control is becoming increasingly jerky. I’ll see if I can pan for a long shot…. There, I think that’s where the Freedom Tower used to be. Rubble now. The World Trade Center has been destroyed again. The memorial is gone too. Seems … dwarfed now by the magnitude of this catastrophe.”

  “Clint, I’m not seeing any rescue vehicles or personnel. Have you spotted anything of that nature?”

  “I think the radiation levels are very intense in this area. It’s … not practical to conduct rescue operations in this zone.”

  “But are you seeing any movement at all?”

  “Unfortunately, in the area we’ve been monitoring, radiation levels are simply too high. But at the outer edges, we have seen a lot of panic, with people scrambling to escape rubble or to rescue family members. I’ll see if I can get a shot.”

  “Clint, you’re, er, we’re losing your picture. Can you clear that up?”

  “It’s the electronics. They’re breaking down. I’m going to try to pull the drone out, see if I can save the aircraft.”

  “Thank you for that horrifying first look at one of the two attack zones, Clint. We have more updates on •—

  —• As we reported before the nuclear attacks, American forces have been rushing to turn over security of Iran to the new Iranian National Army. However, only hours after word of the nuclear attacks reached Iran, Tehran fell to the Iranian Islamic Revolutionary Militia. The insurgent militia has launched coordinated, simultaneous, crippling attacks on US Air Force bases throughout Iran, and now American forces are engaged in a large-scale hasty overland movement south to the Persian Gulf, where Navy vessels are standing by to assist in security and evacuation. US military officials are calling this a rapid redeployment, as no doubt these soldiers, Marines, and airmen are now needed to help stabilize the critical situation back home. Our sources across Iran are reporting American military personnel have taken what they can carry and are rolling south to the Persian Gulf as fast as possible, destroying some sensitive equipment and leaving the rest for the Iranian National Army. We have unconfirmed reports that some of the US-trained Iranian soldiers have in fact switched sides and attacked Americans. The situation is unpredictable and changing all the time, but one thing is certain. American military forces are taking heavy casualties in what’s going to be a frantic, all-night retreat. •—

  —• WGN wants to repeat to our viewers that the Red Cross has an urgent need for blood donations and all manner of relief supplies. We are scrolling information about that at the bottom of our screen. The Red Cross is also asking for any qualified phlebotomists to please volunteer your time. In many cities, despite recent outbreaks of violence, people are lined up for several blocks to donate blood. If there is any way you can help, please, please do so. Also consider that millions of Americans have had to flee their homes and have nothing or next to nothing. Our refugee problem from the civil war has just been made many times worse. No matter where you stand on the issue of the war, we at WGN would like to remind everyone of our shared humanity and compassion. •—

  Because the top half of the building next door to our hotel had long since been blasted away, I had a full view of downtown Boise through the smoky midday haze from the fires still burning in the hills to the northeast. Idaho military and well-armed commandeered civilian vehicles sped down the cracked and bombed streets, ignoring the jacked-up, randomly flashing traffic lights. Even though at least two Idaho soldiers guarded the door to our cushy luxury suite, and even though I could spot plenty of anti-aircraft gun emplacements hidden among the ruins of different buildings, I didn’t feel close to safe. Holding my new Walther P99 nine mil tight, I watched the skies over the partially collapsed dome of the capitol building, waiting to see when the US would blame us for the nuke attack and send their air strikes.

  “You know you’re not supposed to be by the windows.” JoBell was fully dressed, but she pulled the thick, poofy comforter on our king-sized bed to her chin as she sat propped up by a stack of pillows. “They warned us about snipe
rs.”

  “Hank,” I said to the digi-assistant on my junky old COMMPAD. “Any luck getting through to President Montaine?”

  “That’s country! When I lay it all down —” Hank started singing, but then cut to static.

  “The whole Internet is jacked up,” JoBell said. “A bunch of the transmission equipment and server capacity throughout the country was blown up or fried from the EMP.”

  Static and garbled gibberish sounds squawked on my comm. “Sorry, partner … I keep trying to reach President Montaine like you asked, but I can’t get through. In the meantime, I’d like to express my sorrow over” — more static — “loss of so many Americans in New York, Washington, DC, and around the country. I’d like … to assure you and all … my fans that I’m working on a song right now in their —”

  “Just keep trying to get through to Montaine,” I said to Digi-Hank.

  JoBell twisted her engagement ring on her finger — that promise of our shared life, back home away from the fighting and the chaos. “I haven’t heard from Becca or TJ or anyone in forever. The last text from Becca has me really worried about what the Brotherhood is up to. What if there’s no peace back in Freedom Lake either?”

  “Then it’s like we talked about. TJ’s family has a cabin. If things have gone to hell in town, we’ll pack up and go there.”

  “Live off the land?” JoBell asked skeptically. She’d never been completely convinced about the cabin idea.

  “Hell yeah,” I said. “There’s plenty of firewood. A stream for fishing. We can hunt. We’ll be safe. We can wait out the war there if we have to.”

  The feed to the hotel room screen had winked out for a while, but just then static popped and the picture came back. Vice President Jim Barnes was standing in front of a bunch of people, giving a speech.

  “He survived the attack?” JoBell said. “He wasn’t in DC?”

  “Recognizing that the federal government of the United States of America no longer exists as a representative democracy,” Barnes said, “we do, on behalf of the people of Connecticut, Maine, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, and Vermont, hereby make this peaceful declaration of independence.”

  “That son of a bitch!” JoBell shouted as she watched the former vice president. “This is only the beginning. With the federal government gone, more and more states will be breaking loose. How long until they start fighting each other?” She switched feeds.

  “— any given day there are well over four thousand flights in the New York and Washington, DC, areas. Dozens of aircraft in the vicinity of the blasts have crashed. Some inbound flights had come in from long distances and lacked the fuel to divert to other airports. With many air traffic control systems crippled, pilots were left to make alternative landing decisions on their own. As one would expect, this has resulted in not a little chaos, a runway ground collision between two 747s —”

  Quiet sobs turned me away from the window, and I hurried to JoBell’s side, wrapping my arms around her. Her whole body shook as she cried. “All those people. So many dead. And … and so many people will never see their loved ones again, will never even get a body for a funeral.”

  I ran my hand over her blond hair. “I know. I can’t believe … I … It’s too terrible to think about, to imagine. But maybe President Griffith will call for a cease-fire. Maybe after all this, the war will be over.”

  JoBell pushed her face into my chest. “Danny, I don’t want to talk about the war. Don’t want to think about it.”

  We stayed like that for hours, sad and exhausted zombies staring at the news. After a long time, a knock on the door brought room service, escorted by two soldiers with M4 rifles. When we first arrived in Boise, there had been a few different choices on the menu. Now each of us was given a plate with a couple slices of rare beef and a scoop of potatoes. The meal sat cooling in its own puddle of blood and congealed fat as we watched the aftermath of the devastation on whatever news outlets were still available.

  We saw images of the blasted, burned rubble of the two nuked cities. Other footage showed places like Baltimore, Maryland, and Stamford, Connecticut, completely intact, but choked with deadly radiation. In a matter of weeks, those cities would be ghost towns. Radiation burn victims lay in agony in makeshift clinics, while scorched corpses outside lay in piles of bodies larger than any I’d seen in photos from the Holocaust. One commentator wondered out loud on the air if maybe the people who had been vaporized in the initial blasts had been the lucky ones.

  Finally we went to bed, but we couldn’t sleep.

  * * *

  “Dan … Daniel Wright! I have a vid call with President … Montaine!” Hank said late that night, just as my eyes were finally closing.

  I rolled out of bed as fast as I could, grabbing my nine mil out of habit and slipping it into the waist of my jeans. “Hank, put the vid call through!” I rushed to my comm before we lost the connection or Montaine hung up on me.

  “PFC Wright?” Montaine’s voice.

  I picked the comm up to see President Montaine in the underground headquarters the Republic of Idaho had built as its central command. In the background behind him, countless soldiers and officers worked at screens on desks and mounted on walls. Montaine usually kept himself pretty neat and professional, but it looked like he hadn’t shaved in at least a day, and his ever-present tie had been loosened.

  “I’m here, Mr. President,” I said. “Thank you for taking my call.”

  He half smiled. “Sorry it took so long to get back to you. We’ve been on guard for a renewed attack from the United States. Griffith said she’s not going to launch any nuclear attacks on foreign governments, but that doesn’t mean the US won’t bomb the shit out of us.”

  I couldn’t keep myself from asking the same question everyone had been repeating on the news. “How could this have happened?”

  “I don’t know. It’s madness. I’ve been sending messages nonstop since the attack, trying to tell her that we had nothing to do with the nukes. We’re just defending ourselves, trying to get the US to let us go and leave us alone. Pissing them off with an unholy attack like that just doesn’t make any sense. Now so far, our air space is clear, and I’ve moved our alert level down a notch to let some of our people get some rest. How are you and your fiancée holding up? What can I do for you?”

  I had to say this right, to come across as an Idaho patriot, not like some whiny, scared kid who wanted to ditch Montaine’s war effort as fast as he could. “Mr. President, I want to thank you for protecting me and my friends the way you have. My buddy Eric Sweeney would probably be dead if you hadn’t flown him down here to Boise for treatment. But you told us a few weeks ago that when my speaking tour was done, you’d release me from duty. We’d like to go home to Freedom Lake.”

  Montaine rubbed his knuckles over his stubbled chin. “Yes, Private Wright, but Buzz Ellison has more plans for you on his show, and, you know, with everything that’s happened, I really feel like the safest place for you and your friend and fiancée is down here in the Idaho CentCom bunker.”

  I could hear JoBell sigh from across the room. “I don’t know how else I can help,” I said. “I’ve done my best to —”

  “None of the presidents of the other newly independent nations have been able to get in contact with President Griffith. The US government, what’s left of it, will not answer. Does that mean they’re giving up — collapsing into internal fighting — or preparing to attack? We don’t know. Until we have more information or unless it is safer for you elsewhere, I need to keep all my best assets close at hand.”

  I was an asset now? “But, sir —”

  “I’m really very sorry, PFC Wright, but that’s the best answer I can give you.”

  “I could do video calls from home. There’s no reason for me to stay here in —”

  “Enough!” Montaine shouted. “You’re a soldier, Danny. Act like one! We all have our duties, and mine are such that I simply do not have time for these kinds
of distractions. From now on, your calls will be routed to General McNabb or one of his officers.”

  “Mr. President, I’m sorry if —”

  “Montaine, out.” The screen went blank.

  “Damn it!” I slapped the comm down on the table.

  “I don’t think breaking your comm is going to help anything,” JoBell said.

  I’m not gonna lie. I knew she was right and the logical one, but I wasn’t in the mood for logic right then. I felt like a damned prisoner, and I didn’t do so good locked up. “Piece of junk shit barely works anyway,” I said. I went into the bathroom, locked the door, and sat down on the toilet lid, my heart thumping hard in my chest. When I closed my eyes, the images of the disaster played in my head. The smoke, ruins, rubble, and fire. The helpless people. The burned, bleeding bodies.

  If there hadn’t been a civil war, the US military could have kept tighter security over its nukes. If I hadn’t fired that shot here in Boise back in August, if I hadn’t run around like an idiot with my fist in the air and all that “We will give you a war” bullshit, there might not be a war right now. There might not have been nuclear strikes. It was my fault. Millions were dead. Millions.

  I didn’t deserve to live. Not when so many others had died, not while more would die in the future. I pulled my nine mil out of my jeans and looked at the sleek, dark metal. The gun shook in my hands. All I’d have to do is pull the slide action to chamber a round, put the gun in my mouth, flick the safety off, and pull the trigger. I probably wouldn’t even feel it.

  But suicide was a sin, wasn’t it? Chaplain Carmichael always said if we confessed our sins and believed, Jesus would forgive us. But if suicide was a sin, I wouldn’t have time to confess and repent after I pulled the trigger. Could I ask for forgiveness before I did the deed? That didn’t seem right.

  I pressed the side of the barrel to my forehead, felt the cool steel against my skin. How long could I go on with the nightmares? How long could I handle always feeling jittery, like any second I could be in a fight for my life?