Those Who Remain: A Postapocalyptic Novel (The New World Book 7)

by G. Michael Hopf

  McCall, Idaho, Republic of Cascadia

  Gunny walked up to Gordon and Samantha’s front door. He hated having these types of encounters but who else should do it but him. He took a deep breath in; the cool early morning air felt good. He loved living in Idaho. There wasn’t any doubt that the mountain air was good for him.

  He wasn’t sure how long he stood in front of the door before knocking, but it felt like an eternity. His mind raced with ways he would tell Samantha. How does one effectively communicate matters like this to a parent? He inhaled once more deeply and banged on the door loudly.

  He could hear movement on the other side of the door.

  Gunny swallowed hard, knowing his face-to-face was coming.

  The door opened and there in front of him was Samantha. When she saw him, she stepped back and began to cry. “No, please tell me you’re not here to tell me that.”

  He stepped across the threshold, closed the door and took her by the hand. “No, oh God no, it’s not the worst you think. However, I thought it best to come and tell you personally that we’re doing everything to find him, but we can’t. It hasn’t snowed in a week and there’s dozens of sled tracks that go out that way. We’re still looking, but we can’t find him.”

  Samantha pulled away and went to the large sectional and sat down.

  Gunny walked over and continued to soothe her worried thoughts. “We’ve quadrupled our teams. We have Marines working eighteen-hour days. They’re looking for him and actively keeping patrol, as we have more of those men out there.”

  “I’m so worried,” Samantha said.

  “Of course you are. Just know we’re doing everything we can,” Gunny said.

  “I know you are, thank you. Um, have you seen Nelson at all around town?”

  “No, but I’ve heard he’s at work. He’s a stud. I know if I lost my spouse, I wouldn’t be working.”

  “He’s a strong man. I really need to go see him.”

  “It’s early. I don’t want to take more of your time, I was close by, and I didn’t want to call, that seems so impersonal and I consider you all like family. I hope I didn’t intrude.”

  “Never, we feel the same way,” Samantha said.

  Gunny headed to the door.

  “No need to waste your time in the future though, a call will work. I know you’re busy,” Samantha said.

  “Sure,” Gunny said, stepping outside.

  “Thanks again,” Samantha said.

  Gunny could feel the pressure from her to leave and he wasn’t about to impose himself any longer. “Have a good day. And I’ve doubled the force watching the house, just so you know.”

  “Thanks,” Samantha said, closing the door.

  Gunny nodded and walked off.

  It took everything she had not to just completely break down while he was there. She put her back to the door and slid to the floor, tears bursting from her eyes. “Where are you, Luke, where are you?”

  Frank Church Wilderness, Southeast of McCall, Idaho, Republic of Cascadia

  Luke opened his eyes. Above him he saw the thick branches hanging low under the burden of the snow. He brought his cold stiff hand to his face and brushed away the snow that had accumulated. His body felt heavy. He turned onto his left side only to stop and fall back. His body was racked with pain from his head to his feet. What time is it? he asked himself. The dimly lit sky made it impossible to tell whether it was dusk or dawn. His mouth was dry. He scooped up snow and was about to eat it but stopped. He could hear Sanchez’s Puerto Rican accent in his head telling him, No! The temptation was there, but he fought it and tossed the snow aside. He nodded when he recalled something that could come in handy. He painfully reached into his left side cargo pocket and removed a notebook, which he had waterproofed with a ziplock bag. He took the book out, scooped up a pile of snow and placed it into the bag.

  His quick action at the house had left him with only a thick sweater. He couldn’t survive too much longer without protection. He caught sight of the dead man’s coat. That will do, he thought. He crawled over and painstakingly removed the partially blood-soaked coat from the man’s stiff body. He had to pause twice to catch his breath. With the coat off the man, he rejoiced and said, “Fuck yeah.” The coat went to work right away. Needing water to hydrate, he stuffed the bag of snow in a large interior pocket and zipped up the coat. The man was also wearing a thick hat. Luke removed that and placed it over his. “Gloves, where are your gloves?” he asked loudly, looking around in the snow.

  A heavy wind swept down.

  The branches above him swayed enough that a large pile of snow fell on top of his head.

  “Fuck,” he cursed.

  The wall of snow above him looked ominous, but the only way home was up. Ignoring the pain, he took one deliberate movement after another until he crested the tree well. He looked around and to his left he saw the carnage of the collision between the sleds. There was a good chance one still worked but the fatigue was growing again. He sat up, took out the bag of snow and found a large amount had melted. “Almost,” he said. He pressed his weary eyes closed, took several deep breaths and continued to crawl. The thought of standing up seemed daunting, so he kept close to the ground.

  He wasn’t sure how long it took him to reach the first sled but for him it seemed like an eternity.

  The strong smell of gasoline and oil hit his nostrils.

  He examined the sled and discovered the fuel line was ruptured.

  Undeterred, he made his way to his and crawled on. The first thing he noticed was that it was turned on. Was it still running when I got tossed? he asked himself. His painfully numb fingers turned the key to the off position. “Argh,” he grunted from the intense pain in his fingers and hand. He brought them to his mouth and blew in a futile attempt to warm them. “Please God, work,” he said. He grabbed the key and turned but no lights came on. “Please God, please.” Using his left hand to wrap the fingers of his right around the starter handle, he paused once more, said a quick prayer and yanked hard.

  Nothing.

  He let it go back and yanked again with all his might.

  Nothing. The snowmobile was dead.

  Not one to give up, he tried five more times, but the snowmobile coming back like Lazarus wasn’t in the cards for him.

  “Fuck!” he screamed. His voice echoed up the mountainside.

  With heavy eyes, he looked down the mountain. The tracks they had made were still there, so he could follow them out, but how far he’d have to go was unknown. Another lesson of Sanchez’s came to mind. When stuck, stay put. But he couldn’t, he needed to get back for Samantha and Haley. They needed him. He slid off the snowmobile and rose tall. He was going home and that was that.

  South of Joseph, Oregon, Republic of Cascadia

  Lexi rubbed her tired and bloodshot eyes. Her insomnia and bad dreams were back. Most of her night had been spent sitting outside the shed, peering into the candlelit house. She imagined it was what police stakeouts must have been like.

  The evening watch was uneventful minus a few yells and what was heavy moaning from Katie’s bedroom.

  Lexi looked up when she heard a gentle tap on the door. She grabbed her pistol and cradled it in her lap under the blanket. “Yeah.”

  “It’s Katie. I have breakfast.”

  “Come on in,” Lexi said.

  Balancing a tray in one hand, she opened the door and stepped inside. “Some leftover stew,” she said as she set the tray down.

  “Thanks.”

  Beau and Frenchie affectionately jumped up on Katie and licked her.

  “Why, good morning to you too,” Katie said sweetly.

  “Was everything okay last night?” Lexi asked.

  Katie tugged at the neck of her sweater and said, “Yeah.” Her eyes darted around. She was unable to make eye contact with Lexi.

  Lexi ignored the food and asked again, “Is everything okay? You can tell me.”

  “It’s fine. Um, I need to get b
ack inside,” Katie answered, again tugging at the neck of her sweater.

  Lexi caught sight of something, raised a brow and asked, “What’s that?”

  “What?”

  “Your neck,” Lexi said and stood to reach for Katie.

  Katie backed away.

  “Is that a bruise?” Lexi asked, pulling the sweater down.

  “It was an accident, a crime of passion you could say,” Katie said sheepishly, pulling away from Lexi.

  “Those look like his fingers were wrapped around your neck,” Lexi exclaimed.

  “You know, he just got a little carried away last night when we were making love is all. Stop fretting,” Katie insisted.

  “He hurt you,” Lexi said.

  “Stop, please,” Katie said and backed further away from Lexi.

  “Katie, where are you?” Conrad yelled from the back door.

  “I’ve got to go. I’ll come back out shortly to get the tray,” Katie said and rushed away.

  Lexi followed her out and watched as she ran to the house. She locked eyes with Conrad, who this time didn’t look away.

  Katie pushed past Conrad and went inside.

  Conrad waved and smiled before going back into the house.

  “I’ve got your number, just know that,” Lexi said.

  Twenty-five miles north of Lewiston, Idaho, Republic of Cascadia

  Gordon heard the phone ring and assumed it was Gunny calling about Luke or another attack.

  “Hi, Gunny,” Gordon said.

  “Mr. President,” Elizabeth said.

  “Oh, hi. I wasn’t expecting a call from you,” Gordon said, sitting upright as he prepared himself for a possible verbal clash.

  “I’m just calling to tell you we’re doing everything we can here to find Luke. I can assure you we’ll not stop until we’ve found him.”

  “Why, thank you,” Gordon said. Earlier this morning he had received a call from Samantha and Gunny updating him, so a call from Elizabeth, though not needed, was generous.

  “I also received some reports that an interrogation went a bit, shall we say, sideways.”

  “We got what we needed, which was important. It sounds like Jacques is suffering from heavy desertions.”

  “Yes, I heard,” Elizabeth said.

  Both paused.

  “So is that it?” Gordon asked.

  “Yeah, that’s it. Oh, and how about the news out of Ottawa?” Elizabeth said.

  Gordon raised a brow and asked, “What news?”

  “You haven’t heard?” Elizabeth asked, relishing the fact she knew something before Gordon.

  “No.”

  “They launched airstrikes against his positions near Banff and other areas in Alberta. They’ve finally taken the fight to him.”

  Gordon’s eyes widened with excitement.

  “I’m surprised you hadn’t heard,” Elizabeth said feigning her concern for his ignorance.

  Thoughts of Cruz came back to Gordon. He needed to talk with him urgently. “I need to let you go,” Gordon said and promptly hung up.

  “Who was that?” John asked, stretching from a short nap.

  “The Canadians have attacked Jacques’ forces in Canada. They’ve joined the fight.”

  “That’s good news. Can we get them to help us?” John asked.

  “You know I’ve tried. It’s too politically damaging for them. By helping us, they’re sorta recognizing us,” Gordon reminded John.

  “Doesn’t hurt to ask again,” John urged.

  “It’s Cruz that needs to help me. I need his aircraft,” Gordon said.

  McCall, Idaho, Republic of Cascadia

  “Mommy, do you want to play Uno?” Haley asked.

  “I’m not up for playing,” Samantha said, her gaze out the large great room windows.

  “Pleeease!”

  “Can we cuddle instead?”

  “After we play a game,” Haley bargained, holding the cards high in the air.

  “Fine,” Samantha relented.

  Haley sat and did her best to shuffle. Cards spilled on the couch and floor.

  “Here, let me help you,” Samantha said, picking up the cards off the floor.

  A heavy knock on the door startled her.

  Samantha handed the cards to Haley and said, “Keep shuffling.” She ran to the door and asked, “Who is it?”

  “It’s Nelson.”

  She flung the door open and jumped on him. “I’m so sorry, I would’ve come but Luke is missing.”

  He stepped in and he wasn’t alone. Beth Holloway walked in behind him.

  “Beth, how good to see you,” Samantha said, giving her a hug.

  “I’m so sorry about Luke,” Beth said.

  “Come in, please. Can I get you something to drink?” Samantha offered.

  Nelson waved to Haley and said, “Nothing for me.”

  “Ah, hungry, anybody?” Samantha asked, rushing to the kitchen. Her nervous energy was evident in her inability to stand still.

  Nelson followed her and asked, “What are you doing here?”

  Samantha recoiled and asked, “What do you mean?”

  “Why aren’t you out looking for Luke?”

  “Gunny and the Marines have it under control. Plus, I can’t leave Haley alone, and with Seneca, you know, who will watch her?”

  Beth approached and said, “I distinctly remember watching over her when you were looking for Hunter. I can do it now.”

  Samantha let what they were saying stew in her mind. She got quiet and turned away from them in deep thought.

  “Sam, I came over here to help. You and I are going out to look for him,” Nelson insisted.

  “I, um, I don’t think I should. It’s dangerous out there. They haven’t gotten all those men yet,” Samantha said, providing a weak defense.

  Nelson walked around the kitchen bar counter and into the kitchen. He took hold of her shoulders, looked into her eyes and said, “The Samantha back then was already looking.”

  “Maybe that Samantha’s gone, you ever thought of that?”

  “No, she’s not,” Nelson urged.

  “This is now the third time a child of mine has gone missing. I can’t leave Haley. What if they come for her while I’m gone? She needs me.”

  “She’ll be fine. The Marines are outside—”

  “The Marines? Those men attacked us and killed them before. They almost got into the house,” Samantha replied sternly.

  “I saw twenty-some Marines out there and a few friends have come to help,” Nelson said and took her hand. He escorted her out of the kitchen and to the front door. He opened it wide and said, “They came to help too.”

  Twelve friends stood outside huddled in a circle.

  Tears welled in Samantha’s eyes. “They came to help?”

  “People love you. You have friends and support, all you need to do is ask,” Nelson said. He took her hand and turned her to face him. “Luke needs you. We must hurry, a storm is rolling in.”

  Samantha wiped her face, cleared her throat and with a look of defiance said, “Let’s go find Luke.”

  Ten miles north of Potlatch, Idaho, Republic of Cascadia

  “Can we just get there already?” John complained, taking a needed bathroom break alongside the edge of the road.

  Gordon leaned against the Humvee, reading the map the prisoners had drafted detailing Jacques’ defensive positions around Sandpoint. The one spot his eye kept going to was the log home where Jacques was holed up.

  “I just need some air support,” Gordon grumbled.

  “We do have some choppers,” John said, walking up to him.

  “No, I need some fixed wing, just bomb these positions. With this map, I can send in my recon units to paint them and we’ll drop some heavy ordinance, wipe them out.”

  “Give me the phone,” John said, referring to Gordon’s satellite phone.

  “Why?”

  “I’m going to call Cruz myself,” John said.

  “He won�
�t take your call,” Gordon reminded him.

  “Let’s see about that,” John said.

  Gordon said, “Go for it.” He handed it to him after hitting the preset number.

  John grinned and stepped away. A few clicks, pauses and the line was connected.

  A woman answered, “President Cruz’s office.”

  “Hello, this is Prime Minister Corso’s office. The prime minister needs to speak with the president urgently.”

  “Hold, please,” the woman said.

  Gordon shook his head in disbelief.

  John gave Gordon a thumbs-up.

  After a long pause, John became concerned his con had been exposed.

  The line went live. “Prime Minister, how can I help?”

  Hearing Cruz, John handed the phone to Gordon. “President Cruz?”

  “Gordon?”

  “Yes, sorry for the ruse, but I need to talk to you,” Gordon said.

  “This isn’t appreciated,” Cruz scolded.

  “You’ve been ignoring me on purpose, I can see.”

  “I’m dealing with a lot of issues here. Needless to say, you and Cascadia are one.”

  “You and I had a deal. You swore you’d granted us our independence—”

  “Of which I’m not going back on, but I have to stop short now of providing military aid.”

  “I don’t need much. Jacques is reeling right now. Ottawa has attacked his forces in Alberta and I have strong intel that his army is falling apart. He’s lost a third of his men to desertion and low morale. I have a map of his defensive positions but I don’t have the aircraft to take them out. This is where I was counting on you.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t. My arrangement with you has proven to be political suicide,” Cruz said.

  Gordon looked at the map. “I need, say, four maybe five aircraft. I’ve got twenty-one positions to destroy. I’ll send in units to laser designate, we can coordinate that, and all they need to do is drop and away. Find a way, please, say you’ve got reports of some movements in western Montana outside of Whitefish. Send your jets to that airspace.”