2020: Emergency Exit

by Hayes, Ever N

  Then again, in times like these, a little materialism was a helpful and welcome convenience. We had a small television, powered by another big battery, in the back room of the cave mostly for Emily’s entertainment, with hundreds of kid-friendly DVDs. And we had our shortwave radio. We hadn’t picked up any new messages, but that didn’t keep us from trying to find one.

  Grandpa Dan attached a forty-eight-inch monitor to the wall next to the front entrance of the cave. From it we ran a wire through a small hole in the base of the entrance, through a deep but narrow trench, and up the inside of a tall hollowed-out tree. Cameron climbed the tree one night and attached two quarter-sized, high-tech cameras to the highest point he could reach. Valuable gifts from Wes. Both had infrared capability and incredible night vision resolution. One pointed toward the entrance to the cave, giving us a wide-angle view of the area within sixty or so yards of the entrance. The other was a remote-controlled camera panning from the waterfall immediately to our right—150 yards or so away—to the limits of the Endovalley base—below us, and a mile to the right—all the way over towards Estes Park. The screen and cameras were powered by their own battery source, and each camera view took up half the screen on the monitor. That was the extent of our exterior security. No one was going to find those cameras. Other than maybe a vengeful squirrel.

  Our initial suspicion was that the men below us were Captain Eddie’s. He knew we were up here somewhere. Surely he’d regrouped, assembled a small army, and managed to get his men stationed here.

  After a couple nights and early mornings of scouting, Danny determined that wasn’t the case. There was no sign of the giant captain. The troop below seemed to be entirely from the Middle East. No Africans. While that news, in and of itself, was cause for some relief, it did beg the question: Where was Eddie?

  FORTY-ONE: “The New America”

  After several weeks of frenetic construction, the new Qi Jia government had fortified and completely shut off Colorado from the other states. The Great Wall of Colorado was rapidly nearing completion. Huge iron gates were set up at every main entry road into the state. Smaller roads were redirected along the walls to the larger entrances and anywhere from twenty to forty soldiers were encamped at each gate.

  Qi Jia set up its command headquarters in Denver. They hadn’t been able to penetrate NORAD in Colorado Springs, but there had been no missile activity there. Either there was no one inside, or there were no missiles left to fire. Qi Jia’s forces had wired all the area silo openings with explosives, just in case. If they were opened, they would blow up whatever was inside, providing an entry into the otherwise impenetrable Cheyenne Mountain Bunker tunnels. Beyond NORAD, there was no threat to the Denver command center. No one anywhere else in the world would be able to attack without it being visible from far away. Any launched attack would first have to make it past Qi Jia’s missile and military posts up and down the coastlines, as well as across the northern and southern borders of the former U.S. The Seven commanders didn’t believe there was a force still out there in the world with this capability. They were permanently secure in Colorado, and this fortress, here in the middle of America, was the idyllic perch to rule from.

  Qi Jia’s troops had completed two tours back and forth across each state and a large portion of Canada. Qi Jia had no real interest in Canada, but went five hundred miles north of the border in their sweep to cut off any fleeing Americans and wipe out whatever residential presence remained. Their men pushed up towards Alaska where they met up with the Russians. The Russians had come in from the west and worked their way south and east. When the two forces met they each turned back. The Qi Jia army headed south towards Denver and the Russian forces spread out across the former state of Alaska.

  Most of Qi Jia’s naval fleet had been assembled down the former Southern California and Baja coastlines. That fleet consisted of preserved American ships—a half-dozen destroyers, an aircraft carrier, and a few dozen former Coast Guard vessels. The third wave claimed hundreds of thousands of casualties on the American side. Impressively few from the Qi Jia army. The entire plan had been executed nearly flawlessly. In America at least. The same couldn’t be said for back home. Other than Mexico, the native lands of The Seven commanders weren’t at all supportive.

  Word had spread rapidly across the continents of what these seven leaders had done, and most of the world was furious. Qi Jia’s attack on America would have been hard enough to endorse on its own. The United States’ commitment to assisting the needy was generally and genuinely appreciated by many nations. America’s defensive countermeasures were understandable, but had tragically decimated the planet. And it was that decimation that had the planet vowing to cut off the seven commanders. They had sacrificed a billion innocent lives selfishly and unapologetically. That was unacceptable. The commanders and their men were now outcasts, powerless back home, and would be imprisoned or killed if they ever tried to return to their native countries. That, admittedly, was an unfortunate result to the Qi Jia commanders. They had incorrectly anticipated having more support from the countries America hit back. But, in truth, it was also inconsequential. The commanders had no intent of returning to their homelands, or allowing any of their men to do so. Thanks to America’s counterattack there were no countries on the planet with nuclear arsenals or military numbers greater than theirs was here. This was their home now. North America was all theirs.

  While true that there were no stronger forces left in the world, there were a few countries that were not targeted by any of the attacks or counterattacks. The United States still had a few strong military allies in the United Kingdom, France, Brazil and Australia. Those nations began immediately broadcasting to any American tourists—or survivors who could escape—that they would be granted asylum and even dual citizenship in their countries. Israel, the United Arab Emirates and even Switzerland had similarly pledged their financial support to surviving Americans. So much for neutrality, eh? Qi Jia couldn’t afford for their own troops to know about the sentiments back home. It could easily divide the ranks and derail the grand agenda.

  Qi Jia had successfully managed to take over the entire American communication grid. From Denver they controlled every message on the airwaves. They had traced a few military codes to a remote part of Montana and killed the source. No one in America was going to be telling their soldiers, or any remaining Americans, any message other than the one The Seven commanders wanted out there. “We are almost done. America must pay for killing our families. Keep up the great work!”

  Down the road, those few countries America hadn’t retaliated against would have to be dealt with. The Seven commanders worried that splitting their focus and forces now could undermine their mission. “North America first, then the world.” But these other nations were giving them plenty of cause for concern. They had built walls along their borders, similar to the one around Colorado, and had sealed themselves off from their neighbors. They were communicating with each other and could soon begin planning together and pooling their resources. They were the only countries that still had airports, militaries, and functional economies. That was unacceptable. There could be no other world power. Should they be allowed to exist and someday merge, they just might pose a threat to Qi Jia and potentially try to take America back. The Seven commanders needed to make sure that never happened. Taking over NORAD’s bunker, and Hawaii, were the means to that end.

  The Qi Jia government had re-divided the fifty former United States and Canada into eight new, more regional states: New York, Florida, Texas, Dakota, Colorado, Alaska, Canada, and Washington. Each nation owned a share of the Qi Jia Capitol, Colorado. Russia had moved two hundred thousand troops into Alaska a few days before the first wave of chemical attacks. When most of Russia was destroyed by the American retaliation launch, the coastal land from Alaska to the Washington state line became “Alaska” and belonged to Russia exclusively. The Pacific Northwest was now merely “Washington” and belonged to North Korea. Mexic
o laid claim to “Texas”—formerly New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, California and the Longhorn state. China took the rest of “Canada,” Japan took the upper Midwest—“Dakota,” Libya took the southeast—“Florida,” and Colombia took the northeast—“New York.”

  For now, the Qi Jia government used the former American names for mapping purposes, but that too would eventually change. The leaders fashioned themselves as modern-day Columbuses or the Pilgrims, discovering a “new land” that was already occupied and taking it over as if it wasn’t. A small command base was set up in a central city in each of the states—the only cities left intact and with electrical grids—and a communication line was set up exclusively between Denver and each of those command cities: New York City, Miami, Dallas, Chicago, Anchorage, Toronto, and Seattle. All other communication on the continent was restricted to proximal two-way radios and handwritten, air-transported messages. It was far more primitive than they liked but necessary due to the threat of international communication.

  As winter spread across the country, the commanders weren’t able to control as much as they wanted, but they weren’t worried about the few Americans who may have survived doing much either. Nonetheless, as they cut down their domestic troop movement and communication network, they maintained the entirety of their naval presence between North America and Hawaii. Like a war version of kick the can—the can was in Hawaii, but good luck getting to it.

  Then again, Hawaii remained impenetrable for Qi Jia too, shield up and with the most advanced defense system ever made. Every one of Qi Jia’s boats, planes and even rockets crossing within a ten-mile radius of the island chain’s shores had been destroyed. Their collective wreckage had already formed a significant scrap metal reef around the islands, and there was no telling how deep Hawaii’s ammunition stash was. Reluctantly, the Seven commanders gave up on trying to break in with force, and began planning other ways to eventually bring down the lone surviving state.

  The American military had designed Hawaii as a “last resort” base for the President—who hadn’t survived—and the leadership of each of their military branches. In 2015, a second Pentagon had been opened there—although it had six sides—and most American military operations were directed from Hawaii. Qi Jia’s leaders figured the former population of the islands, 1.5 million, had likely been reduced by over 90%, but that didn’t make the defense system any weaker.

  Hawaii was untouchable as far as the former United States went, but that was it. The Seven commanders were intent on not letting any survivors get there while they conquered the rest of America. The Americans could keep Hawaii…for now.

  FORTY-TWO: “Where’s Eddie?”

  After saving Hayley’s life, Eddie had taken his remaining men down into the valley and led them to Denver. He shot the only one of his men who vocally opposed his temporary truce with Danny and the Americans. The others pledged their silence and knew the consequences if they went against their word.

  In Denver he told the military commanders he and his men had pursued a band of renegade troops to Cheyenne, and he had lost almost his entire company in a large battle at the depot. The commanders had heard a great deal about that firestorm at the train yards and were surprised anyone had escaped. They asked Captain Eddie if he had any idea as to the whereabouts of the renegade soldiers, and he told them he’d tried to track them west but had been cut off by a large storm.

  Eddie’s story was convincing. Impressed by Eddie and his men, the commanders granted each a post of his choice in the national army. A few of his men asked to be sent back out into the field, and they were assigned to other African companies. Eddie was offered, and eagerly accepted, a leadership position inside the Intelligence Commission, Qi Jia’s second-tier command unit. He was promoted to major, commended as a hero for his bravery in Cheyenne, and was allowed to select his own personal security team. His brother Lazzo joined him, and he likewise retained the services of two of his most loyal men, Omar and Cabo.

  Eddie had no intention of staying at the Intelligence Commission headquarters once winter passed. But for now, he couldn’t pass up the luxury of being able to monitor the entire army’s actions across the continent from one warm location. Additionally, being less than seventy miles from Estes Park, he could keep a close eye on the last place he’d seen the Americans. They’d never have gotten out of there before the snow covered the mountains on the other side. There was far too much troop movement in the area for them to pass through unnoticed. Eddie was convinced they’d have tried to hide and wait it out and, as a result, they would be trapped in Estes Park for the winter. Eddie was content to wait. Cabo, Omar and Lazzo made sure Eddie got every update from there, including the recent assignment of 123 Qi Jia men to the Estes Park valley for the winter. It seemed odd to Eddie that they would keep so many men in such a small town so close to Denver. Why not just bring them here? Perhaps there was more to that arrangement than met the eye. The report showed the company had been split into three groups of forty-one, each positioned at the three possible western routes out of Estes Park. Another eighty men were stationed at the summit of Trail Ridge Road at the Alpine Visitor Center, and yet another eighty in the town of Granby, down the other side of Trail Ridge Road. Clearly he was missing something. Each of those five stations had to submit weekly status and fatality reports, and Eddie made it clear that a copy of each of those reports was to be brought directly to him.

  FORTY-THREE: (Ryan) “Thanksgiving Day”

  Thursday, November 26, 2020.

  Estes Park, Colorado.

  Thanksgiving was a strange day. Sure, it was on Thursday like every other year, but it didn’t feel like a Thursday. It didn’t feel like any weekday. It just felt like a day. It was hard to explain. We told ourselves we needed to be positive for Emily’s sake, but truthfully we all needed the hope. Sitting in the cave, day after miserable day, made us realize even more how dire our own—and the entire country’s—situation really was. We had listened one night as Kate related our circumstances to her dad’s terminal cancer. His clock had been ticking, just as we felt ours were now. She knew at the time that his last day was coming soon, but had no way of knowing exactly when. It was an ominous feeling. It really sucked. But wallowing in that suckiness wasn’t going to get Kate anywhere and wasn’t going to heal her dad. He wanted her to be positive. The number of days he had left didn’t matter as much as what he did with each of them. The room full of nods said it all, as we absorbed the emotion in her every word. We all got it. Perhaps not to the degree that Kate did, but we understood the concept in general. We needed to make the most of the life we had left. We each needed to give optimism a chance.

  With it being Thanksgiving, I guessed there was no better time to give optimism a shot. Here goes.

  Modern cave life was great. Well, as great as it could be anyway. It helped no one in our group dressed or acted like a Neanderthal. Though Tara probably would have looked pretty dang good. We had discussed what it would be like if “Wooly” had been here. It was hard to imagine.

  In any case, it’s a strange process for a human to transition from a sunlight creature to a nocturnal one, sleeping all day and staying up all night. But that switch did have its benefits. The stars were amazingly bright this high up in the mountains. That was always incredible—romantic, euphoric, terrific, all of the above. But it was also quite eerie. We could hear laughter echo up the valley from the troops below us, see the smoke from their fires in the distance, and hear the gunshots from their hunting and drinking games. They were “free to be.” We were trapped. Here in the most openly beautiful state in America, other than maybe Hawaii, we were prisoners of war. It sucked. Hey, stay positive.

  At Emily’s initial suggestion we each came up with something we missed from our old lives and something we didn’t miss. Huddled under blankets on our thick carpet floor, we put the lamp in the middle of our circle like a campfire and went around the room.

  Emily went first. “I miss my goats. But I’m th
ankful I don’t have to go to school.”

  We got a good but subdued laugh out of that. The padding and insulation of the walls worked wonders for soundproofing our chamber, but we were careful nonetheless.

  Tara continued the sharing. “I miss my parents.” Maybe this wasn’t a great idea. You could’ve heard a pin drop. “And Twix…” She offered a half-hearted smile. Could she get any more perfect? “But I’m thankful for new friends and for you all letting us tag along.”

  Grandma Ollie volunteered next. “I miss looking through Black Friday ads.”

  “Hold on,” I objected. “Mom, you’ve never once shopped on Black Friday.” That drew a little more laughter.

  “True.” She smiled. “But I always thought I would. Oh well. At least I still get to spend Thanksgiving with my family.”

  “Do you miss anything?” Hayley asked.

  “Not yet,” Mom replied, looking at Dad and squeezing his hand.

  “What about you, Kate?” Emily asked, moving us on. I think we were all glad she was in charge of the game.

  “I miss the smell of turkey in the oven.” Kate smiled. “Green bean casserole, pumpkin pie…” Her voice trailed off. “And my mom.” I could see her eyes watering. Even Danny couldn’t look at her. “But I’m thankful to be alive, and my Vikings won’t ever lose another game.” Another chorus of smiles. Maybe this wasn’t a terrible idea after all.

  “Blake?” Emily pointed at him.

  “Okay, I’ve actually been thinking about that the entire drive from North Dakota. You’re all probably gonna think I’m crazy, but I appreciate that technology is basically irrelevant now. Phones, social media, all that jazz… it was just too much. I love simplicity. I won’t miss that stuff at all.” Interesting. That truly was a surprising answer.