He kept going, never once looking in his rearview mirror, never once dwelling on what happened back home. He couldn’t. Joe had to focus forward, move ahead and find his nephew, Toby.
Toby was all he had left in the godforsaken world.
That was his mission, his cause. Joe would get there, he’d find him, even if it was the last thing he ever did.
There was a moment after Joe left, when Mary Lou briefly gave a second thought to what she was about to do. She had led a good life. She thought about God and how He would view her actions. When she told Joe she didn’t know if she could live with what had happened, she wasn’t referring to the slaughter of the soldiers, that she could live with. It was the loss of everyone she knew, the loss of her freedom, her homeland. A part of her, in a sense, felt responsible for the sick people who had been gassed, her karma. They had already poisoned the soldiers; the ricin was working its way through their systems when they gassed the sick camps.
Mary Lou had never felt so much rage as she did when she received Sergeant Edmunds’ call. She raced into town and joined the others in ‘picking off’ those soldiers who were not poisoned. The first enemy soldier Mary Lou saw was scared, she saw it in his eyes, and then she saw the red of rage as she lunged for him. He wasn’t ready but she was. She repeatedly stabbed him mercilessly. She did it for her friends, her neighbors who were defenseless when they died.
Just like that soldier Mary Lou killed. He was one of three that she personally murdered.
She could live with that if she had to, but she didn’t want to.
The war was far from over, but her part was done. She was ready to see her husband. Continuing what she was doing when Joe walked in, Mary Lou whispered a short prayer asking for forgiveness, put the gun to her head, and fired.
San Antonio, TX
It was dark, hot, and the air was humid. General Liu had been stripped of his uniform shirt, jacket, and awards, left only in a T-shirt and pants. No shoes. He was placed in a basement room of a hotel. No windows, no light, only a few glow sticks.
No one came to talk to him, he was given no water or food.
He thought of his life. The service he had given his country, his daughters who were grown and in school, studying to be doctors.
The bright spot to it all was that he would see his loving wife who left him and the earth far too soon. He hoped that when word reached his daughters that they wouldn’t be affected by the shame he caused them. He prayed that they knew him well enough to know their father didn’t betray his country, he was doing what was right for the world.
His final moments on earth weren’t filled with regrets, but loving memories of those he held dear.
When the door opened he knew it was morning … it was time.
They secured his hands behind his back before they took him from the room. His eyes had time to adjust as they led him down a lit hall to an even brighter hotel lobby.
He was taken out a back door through the kitchen to a small secluded courtyard.
The sun beat down hard and the heat was extreme. They walked him to the center of the area. Fen waited before a line of five soldiers. One of which was Sergeant Huang.
General Liu looked at them all before being placed in position.
Fen dismissed her agents, then walked to General Liu. She spoke to him in a low voice, almost taunting. “You can only say so much before you are silenced for good. Now you stand before executioners of your peers.”
“Only someone with a blackened heart would do such a thing to loyal men.”
She laughed. “Loyal. They jumped at this chance. They know of your behavior as of late. How you want to help the Americans.”
“We are here for the country, that includes the people. If we are to live among them one day, we cannot do so if the sins of our actions forever taint their perception of us.”
“You failed to draw a line,” Fen said. “Quite a shame you will not see the victory of your country.”
General Liu shifted his eyes to her. “Neither will you.”
“Any last requests, General?”
“Tell my daughters I love them.”
“Very well.”
“I suppose you will enjoy watching this,” General Liu said.
“I will not be watching. I don’t want the perception that this is personal.”
“But it is.”
She merely raised her eyebrows, then stepped back. “Would you like a blindfold, a covering?”
“No. I will go with my eyes open and standing tall.”
“Very well.” She walked away. “Sergeant Huang, once I am gone, you may do so. But do so quickly.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
General Liu tried not to look at her but caught her in his peripheral vision as she walked from the secluded area.
“Ready,” Sergeant Huang called out.
Hands behind his back, General Liu stood straight.
“Aim.”
He lifted his chin proudly, taking a deep breath. He would not leave this world scared, but rather he would do his best to be brave.
A split second before he hollered, “‘Fire,” Sergeant Huang stepped from the ranks of the line, pivoted his body and on his call, gunned down the four other soldiers.
General Liu was waiting for the bullets, but what he witnessed, shocked him so much, he dropped to the ground to his knees.
Huang lifted one of the rifles from a dead soldier, slung it over his shoulder and raced to General Liu.
“Sergeant Huang. You …”
Huang pulled out a knife and reached behind General Liu for his bound hands. “I have help with an escape plan. We’ll go through the catering room, back to the basement. I need you to hurry.” He cut the binding on General Liu’s wrist.
“What you did, Sergeant Huang …”
Suddenly, he spoke perfect English, and Liu understood him. “My name is Tommy Cho.” He helped General Liu to his feet as he spoke fast. “I am a First Sergeant in the United States Marine Corp. I am a plant. I think you’re a good man. Come with me.” He pulled on his arm. “Please”—he looked at him squarely in the eyes—“don’t make me regret this decision.”
Without any choice, and grateful for saving him, General Liu went with the young man.
Caldwell, OH
Troy was almost there. Seventeen miles out from the town of Caldwell. His team raring and ready to go, he received a message on the secure line.
“Abort.”
Troy had been in the service long enough to know that no mission is simply aborted with one word and no verification. He looked down to the military phone and replied. “Verification.”
A second later came the response, “Lenny Kravitz.”
“Password.”
“AFZ1965REAGAN.”
“Damn it,” Troy nearly slammed the phone. He took a second and sent another message. “Why?”
“Compromised. We’re out of sync. Caldwell will be next wave.”
He bit his lip and shook his head. “Pull over,” he told the driver.
Another ‘blip’ and Troy looked down to the message.
“Before base. Stop. Hit high ground. Look up.”
Troy crinkled his brow at the mysterious message. The truck had stopped, and Troy stepped out. They were already on backroads. He began to look around.
“Captain, what’s going on?” one of his men asked.
“Mission aborted men. I’m told there will be another raid. Right now, we’re out of sync. So, someone jumped the gun.” He looked left to right until he spotted a large hillside. He then glanced down to his watch. The small compass indicted east. “That … over there. Anyone have suggestions how we can get there? We need to get to high ground.”
“Why?” someone asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Saw a road turn off about four clicks back,” a driver said. “Bet that will take us to high ground.”
“Let’s try it. Everyone back in. Let’s go,” Troy ordered.
“Okay, we’re on high ground,” a sergeant said. “What now?”
“I’m told to look up.”
“Look up?”
“Look up.” Troy’s simple mysterious message implied for them to look up. On that hilltop, heads tilted back with eyes on the sky, they all did just that and waited.
San Antonio, TX
Resources are not just fresh food and water, it is shelter, medical care … a cure. With the exuberant amount of available hands, the plentiful vat of resources, the finest medical treatment. It is in the best interest of this country to hand over control to the People’s Republic of China. Tens of millions of people are in dire need of medical attention over this virus. In a few minutes, you will bear witness to my proclamation of surrender. I do this not with a heavy heart, but with a clear mind and optimistic view of the future.
Madeline rehearsed her script in the bathroom of her suite before it was time to go.
Good morning. My name is Madeline Tanner. Many of you know me as Speaker of the House. During a domestic attack on our country, those ahead of me in succession for the presidency were killed, and I was sworn in.
She didn’t write it, it was written for her.
We are blessed and grateful that the People’s Republic of China was ready to step in to help. Yet, we have refused their help and that has placed us in a predicament. They are at a loss to fully deliver what we need.
She hated the thought of delivering it but what choice did she have? The surrender was to be such a momentous occasion that it was going to be broadcast to every available citizen who could watch a television. Her makeup and hair were done by a professional brought in to see her that morning, and a tailor fitted her with a perfect suit, aimed to sooth and reassure the public. They were setting up a podium on the Riverwalk, complete with a table where she would sign her surrender with parliament leaders from China.
Madeline was to look happy about it. After the surrender treaty, she would be free to an extent. She was granted permission to watch the rebuilding and reorganizing along with the distribution of food and medical care.
She had a morning drink to calm her nerves and declined a mild anti-anxiety. Fully presentable, she was taken from the hotel by way of limousine to the park where she would deliver the speech.
Fen Shu rode in the front with the driver.
It was a painful ride, emotionally she wanted to run and hide. She hated herself for giving up.
“Almost there,” Fen told her. “A few more moments. Many people are out wanting to see this. It is a glorious day.”
It would be over soon, then she’d find a way to bury her head in shame.
A few moments later, something changed.
Fen’s phone rang.
“Yes,” Fen answered. Then after a pause, the typically cool and calm woman blasted a, “What!” then hurriedly rolled up the window between her and Madeline.
Madeline wasn’t too familiar with San Antonio, she wouldn’t have had a clue that they made an abrupt turn, had that window not gone up.
Suddenly the leisurely drive picked up pace and Madeline was sliding back and forth across the seat with every wild turn until the limousine came to a slamming stop. She shot forward into the seat across from her and banged her head off the corner of the interior window.
She felt the hard pain and the warm feeling on the blood that instantly rolled down her face. In a total state of confusion, she brought her fingers to the injury as she fumbled to get up and back on her seat.
The door opened.
“Out. Now.” Fen reached in and grabbed her. “Hurry.”
“What’s going on?” Madeline asked.
Fen pulled her out of the car with force and Madeline tripped. Her knees buckled and she caught herself before she collided with the concrete.
With a tight grip on her arm, Fen yanked her up and that was when Madeline noticed people were running, yelling. Cars were screeching to a halt, crashing into each other.
“Move,” Fen ordered, pulling her through the street, weaving in and out of cars. They headed toward a coffee shop. “In here.”
Approaching the store front, Madeline paused when she heard the sound of gun fire. She turned to look over her shoulder and gasped in shock when a soldier with a parachute, landed in the street, then another.
She looked up.
The clear blue sky of San Antonio was peppered with hundreds, if not thousands of paratroopers dropping to the ground, and Madeline was positive due to Fen’s reaction, that they weren’t soldiers of the People’s Republic of China.
I-64, Fifty-Three Miles West of Norfolk, VA
Someone on the bus told Cal that if they had driven straight through they would have arrived in about seven hours. But it wasn’t that easy. Just after six in the morning, the yellow school bus arrived. There were two people already on the bus when Cal and another man boarded.
There was a sense that they were no longer prisoners. They were given food for the trip, beverages. There were two soldiers on the bus, but they were told it was for their safety, especially with all the rebel activity.
They travelled south, then north again, hitting various camps and towns to pick up people. All of whom were going back home. It was a United Nations bus. By the time they picked up the final passenger in Charleston, West Virginia, there were twenty-five people in all. Not all were from the UK, some were from Spain, Germany, France.
Cal wondered with each stop they made, Would this camp be hit? Would this one be liberated?
He started to get worried as it pushed toward noon. He knew there was going to be a coordinated attack, he just didn’t want to get caught in it.
But when it was announced Charleston was the last stop, Cal relaxed.
With every mile covered, the mood on the bus lifted.
Cal wondered what he was going home to. Surely, somehow, his home had to be affected by what happened in America. Were they on the brink of war or would Cal sail across the ocean to an unscathed UK?
He didn’t have any details and no one offered much of an answer as to what the voyage would entail or how long it would take. Just that when they arrived, they would board the ship. He spent a lot of time staring out the window, watching the mile markers as they cruised down a barren highway.
A part of Cal was excited. He felt as if he had been rescued from the nightmare. He couldn’t wait to get home, find his family and friends. Hold them in gratefulness. He didn’t look the same as when he left. In the short time he was gone he’d not only lost weight, he’d lost his hair. The doctor at the camp told him it would grow back.
Someone on the bus shouted out, “Just saw a sign. We’re almost there.”
The bus cheered, then in a few seconds, came to a grinding and screeching halt. The stop was so fast that the tires squealed, the bus slid sideways, and items and people flew about.
Cal shot out his hands catching himself before he plowed face first into the seat before him.
Everyone shouted, questioning what was happening.
Cal looked up and saw the driver and the soldiers running from the bus.
“What the hell?” Cal said outload.
“Where are they going?” a person shouted.
“What are they doing?” people asked.
Cal stood, as he made his way up front, and looked out the window. The soldiers and the driver were running fast and into the wooded hillside.
Cal pushed his way to the front and followed three others off of the bus. The others followed.
There wasn’t a car around, not a soul or sound. Cal stood in the middle of the road, baffled. The others surrounded him and were behind him.
Cal was in his own thoughts, one world, trying to figure out what to do.
“They keys are on
the bus,” someone said. “Maybe we should take it.”
“They ran for a reason,” said another voice.
“He was on the radio,” someone said behind Cal. “I couldn’t understand a word of it.”
“Were they warned about something?” asked another.
“I don’t know. I couldn’t understand.”
“Maybe it’s a trap.”
“Oh my God. Look.”
Cal heard that and spun around. When he did, everyone was staring up.
The moment Cal lifted his eyes upward, his soul felt as if it left.
The cloudless blue sky was the perfect canvas to the white chemtrails of the rockets that streamed in perfect unison westerly above their heads.
There was no way to tell where they were headed and where they would land. All Cal knew was that he wasn’t going home.
It wasn’t over. Not for him, not for America, and not by a long shot.
About the Author
Jacqueline Druga is a native of Pittsburgh, PA. She is a prolific writer having penned over a hundred titles. Her works include genres of all types but she favours post-apocalypse and apocalypse writing.
You can find more about the author:
Facebook: @jacquelinedruga
Twitter: @gojake
Website: www.jacquelinedruga.com
No Man’s Land by Jacqueline Druga
When Leah and Calvin found out they were expecting, they were over the moon. That day would be one to remember forever…but for more reasons than one. That was the day the world changed. That was the day joy turned to fear. A deadly virus broke out, with many of those infected becoming violent and uncontrollable. And it was spreading fast.
Burning Skies (Book 2): Fallout Page 16