The End - a Post Apocalyptic Novel

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The End - a Post Apocalyptic Novel Page 10

by G. Michael Hopf


  Jimmy reassured, “Yes, Melissa, don’t hesitate. Come by if you need anything, anything at all.”

  Melissa stood up and started for the door. Gordon followed her out.

  “Melissa, if you need anything please let us know. I’d say call but-,” Gordon made a weak attempt at humor.

  Melissa smiled and said, “Thank you. I’ll let you all know when Eric makes it back.”

  Gordon watched as she walked off into the darkness toward the sidewalk. He closed the door and went back into the living room. Jimmy was trying to console Simone, who was still very upset. Not wanting to intrude, he left the room and walked down the hallway toward the playroom. He saw the small light flicker off and on in the room and heard laughter. He walked up to the doorway and looked in. The kids were under a blanket with the flashlight, they were turning it off and on.

  He then realized Samantha hadn’t been in the living room when he walked in on Jimmy and Simone. He assumed she’d be in the kitchen, but when he checked, it was empty. He spent the next few minutes looking for her. Finally he checked the garage, saving it for last because he couldn’t think of any reason she’d go in there by herself. He opened the door and, sure enough, there she was. She was holding a notepad, taking an inventory of the food they had just brought back.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, already knowing her answer.

  “Taking inventory; it needed to be done. Why don’t you go and get the bike and trailer and bring it back so we can take our half home,” she suggested, not looking away from the notepad.

  “That’s not going to happen, I am sore as hell and like my grandad use to say, ‘work smart, not hard,’ ” Gordon replied.

  Not looking at him she responded, “However you get this home, just get it done.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he walked over to her and stood behind her. He reached around with his arms and brought her close to him. “I love a take-charge woman.”

  “Gordon, now is not the time,” she shrugged him off.

  “Okay. I just love it when you start to bark orders,” he said and then slapped her on the butt.

  She stopped writing for the first time since he walked into the garage and snapped at him, “Really, you think this is an appropriate time?”

  Gordon stepped away and said, “It’s okay, I know where you live.”

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  Gordon went back into the living room. Jimmy was still on the couch but Simone was gone.

  “Where did Simone go?” Gordon asked

  “She went to go check on the kids.”

  “Hey, I’m going to load up my supplies in your truck and take them to my house, OK?”

  “You do that,” Jimmy responded. He reached down and grabbed his glass of bourbon and tossed it back, downing the whole glass.

  Gordon looked at his friend for a moment then headed back to the garage. He was tired but there still was a lot of work to do before he would rest.

  ****

  Tinker Air Force Base, OK

  Flanked by an entourage of people, Conner walked briskly toward the aircraft waiting on the tarmac.

  “How is it this plane is operational?” Conner asked pointing at the aircraft.

  “It’s an E-6 Mercury sir,” Griswald answered loudly. He almost had to yell as they grew closer to the plane. The high-pitched whine of the plane’s engine made it hard to hear. “We did do something right, sir. We have a fleet of these which are hardened against nuclear or EMP attacks. They are a mobile command post to be used for incidents just as this.”

  “Glad to hear some of our money was spent wisely,” Conner responded.

  Standing at the base of the stairwell, he looked up contemplatively. He’d walk through the door as Speaker of the House and out as the President of the United States. Grabbing the rail, he jogged up the stairs. A uniformed officer saluted and led him to a furnished conference room on board.

  Griswald and a few members of the entourage followed Conner into the conference room. Conner turned to Griswald and asked, “Any update on my wife?”

  “No sir, not yet. Sir, we have not been able to track down a judge but we do have a Bible. May I suggest we get you sworn in so we can proceed with any response we may have to these attacks?” Griswald implored.

  “Okay, let’s do this,” Conner said standing up.

  Griswald turned to his aide, “Give me the Bible and the oath of office.”

  The aide stepped forward with both requested items.

  “Stand there and hold the Bible,” Griswald instructed his aide.

  Conner placed his left hand on the bible and raised his right hand.

  Griswald proceeded, “Mr. Speaker, please repeat after me. I, Bradley Raymond Conner...”

  Conner repeated, “I, Bradley Raymond Conner...”

  “...do solemnly swear…”

  “...do solemnly swear...”

  “...that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States…”

  “...that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States…”

  “…and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.”

  “…and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States. So help me God,” Conner finished, overwhelmed with emotion.

  Griswald put his hand out, “Mr. President.”

  Conner took his hand and shook it, then gave his first order as president, “General, I need an up-to-date briefing on the status of everything.”

  “Yes sir,” Griswald answered enthusiastically.

  All those in the room took their seats. Griswald sent his aide to find out what new information might have come in since their last briefing over an hour ago.

  “While we wait, can you tell me now how our forces are positioned around the globe?” Conner asked.

  Griswald turned on the large flat screen monitor at the head of the room. He pulled up a map of the world and started to touch options on the side. With each tap on the screen, avatars representing military units began to appear on the map.

  “Sir, what we know as of this morning is that we have carrier groups positioned here and here. We also have two Amphibious Ready Groups positioned here and here. Each ARG represents a reinforced battalion of Marines and all the air assets they would have to accompany them. In Afghanistan, we have two more battalions of Marines. Our land-based Army units in Europe have been unresponsive. This is due to an EMP detonation over central Europe which has destroyed their entire power grid from England to central Russia. All military units in the contiguous United States are down. We have been able to reach Hawaii and Alaska. There we have a mix of Army, Navy, Air Force and a Marine Infantry Brigade located in Hawaii. Many of our attack and ballistic missile submarines are fully operational and are located here, here, here and here.”

  Interrupting Griswald, Conner asked, “General, tell me what you think happened or how it happened.”

  “Sir, we believe that the EMP bomb was deployed on a missile and fired from some type of ship-based platform.”

  “What happened to our missile defense systems?”

  “Sir, we don’t know why the missile was not intercepted or if an attempt was made to intercept it. We strongly believe it was fired from offshore, probably onboard a container ship.”

  “Why do you believe that?” Conner asked leaning forward and placing his elbows on the table.

  “One reason is that the ship would have to have been large. We did not have any intelligence on any large state-flagged military ships nearby, so this was probably a container cargo ship. It would have had to be large enough to hold the missiles and ordinary enough not to be noticed. We are not sure if both missiles were deployed from the same ship or separately. We have to assume the missile that hit D.C. was fired from somewhere in the Atlantic. This would have reduced the distance and time for the missile to travel, increasing their od
ds of success. Now, if they both weren’t shot from the same ship, then a likely location for launching the missile that had the EMP would be the Gulf of California.”

  “Do we have any idea who did this?”

  “No, we do not know for sure.”

  “Answer this question with all honesty, with the entire power grid down across the country, when can we get it back up and what can we expect from the loss of the grid?”

  “Sir, based upon all estimates, it would take as little as six months to as great as 18 months to get the grid back up. The main problem is that all the power plants are down; we have no means of direct communication to speak with them. We don’t have the assets in country now to bring in supplies to get them back up. Without power and without transportation assets, it’s not just the power grid that is gone but the entire interstate infrastructure that supplies critical food, water, and medical supplies. The general population, specifically those located in major cities across the country, will start to feel the strain from the lack of food and fresh water within days. Local authorities have no means of assisting their local populations because all of their assets are down, too.”

  “Okay, so no power for a while. The main issue I’m hearing from you is a lack of food for the general population.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What can we do?”

  “Not much right now, sir. What I suggest is we recall all of our military assets from across the globe. Bring them home. They have operational equipment and can assist in resupply to local municipalities.”

  “How do you propose that?”

  “You asked me to be honest, sir, and, honestly, I don’t know even where to begin.”

  Conner sat back in his chair. He was deep in thought. He then propped back up and asked, “General, without power, food, water, and medical supplies, what do you estimate will happen to the general population?”

  “Sir, we have done those studies before.” He got up from his chair and approached the screen. He tapped a few buttons and pulled up a timeline. “Before I begin, sir, let me start by saying that right now there is not a lot we can do to assist the general population. Right now they are on their own. What we must focus on is getting the grid back up and maintaining the continuity of government. Once the grid is up, we can start to focus on supplying the general population.”

  “I don’t agree with you completely, but I hear what you are suggesting. What I am asking is what are we looking at in terms of casualties?”

  Griswald turned around and tapped the screen; a graph came up. “Within the first few minutes of the detonation of the EMP, we estimate that approximately 150,000 people died.”

  “What?” Conner said loudly in disbelief.

  “Yes, sir. Based upon the detonation time we can estimate that approximately thousands of aircraft were in the sky at that time across the country. Assuming the average passenger load would be 50 people, you get to our estimate pretty easily. The EMP would have knocked out the aircraft’s engines and they would have fallen to the ground.”

  “Good God, that many people?”

  “Sir, it’s just the beginning. The nuclear bomb that struck Washington D.C. was an approximately 100 kiloton bomb. The epicenter of the explosion was near Kingman Park in the District. Everything within one mile of the explosion was completely destroyed. The Capitol and White House fell just outside of that zone, but a couple of aerial photos, seen here, show those structures are just about leveled.”

  Conner sat silent in awe of the photos he was seeing.

  “Mr. President, the initial loss of life estimated in Washington due to the nuclear attack is probably in the 100,000 range. We estimate another 100,000 will perish due to radiation exposure, dehydration and starvation,” Griswald paused, allowing the information to settle with Conner, while trying to process it emotionally himself. He then continued, “Mr. President, I need to warn you, the following numbers are staggering. Within the first month, the total loss of life will be about three to five million, within three months about 15 to 20 million. By the six-month mark another 50 million, and, if nothing changes, within a year, 90% of the United States population will be dead.”

  “90%! I don’t understand; why so many?” Conner asked, exasperated.

  “Mr. President, in the first month with no power and with a lack of a constant flow of adequate food, water, and medical supplies, all of those Americans who are hospitalized or have any sort of special needs will most likely perish. Starvation starts to take its toll around month two and mass starvation will start to hit by month six. This doesn’t take into account the civil unrest that will kill tens of thousands.”

  “What can we do? We must do something.”

  “Mr. President, there isn’t much we can do for the average American. The best thing we can do is reestablish the continuity of government, and, from there, we can start to get the infrastructure back in place. I recommend we find a vice president for you as well as a cabinet. We can then set up teams to go to the state capitals and make liaison with governors. With the U.S. capital destroyed, we will need to find a new seat of government for us. I recommend a military base that is secure with an underground bunker.”

  Conner just sat back in his chair. He folded his arms and concentrated on this overwhelming flow of difficult information. He leaned forward and asked again, “General, do we know who did this? If so, what are your recommendations for a response?”

  “Mr. President, we do not know exactly who is responsible for these attacks. We obviously have suspects, but no one has stepped forward to accept responsibility, nor do we have access to any intel that lets us know.”

  “Okay, based upon whatever intel we do have, how are our allies doing?

  “Sir, it appears that similar attacks were conducted against Europe, the Pacific Rim, and an attack was stopped in Australia.”

  “How did the Aussies stop their attack?”

  “We do not know, we have received intel from them that they were able to seize a ship that had a nuclear weapon aboard it. We are working with them to see what intel we can gather from their interrogations of those captured.”

  “How did the Aussies manage to stop the attack and not us?” Conner was getting a bit indignant.

  “All we can assume, sir, is that our resources were stretched thin with all the recent attacks-”

  “That’s it! The other attacks were just to bog us down so they could orchestrate this attack.”

  “Yes sir, that sounds like exactly what happened,” Griswald answered back.

  ****

  Griswald continued his briefing for another half an hour. The more information he presented the more helpless Conner felt. He had become the most powerful man in the world but without the power.

  “Sir, what would you like us to do?” Griswald asked.

  “I need to process everything. I need you to get me a list of possible suspects and I want to speak with the prime minister of Australia as soon as possible. I want you to get all of our military assets back into the United States as soon as possible. I want some of them on the East Coast to assist with recovery efforts,” Conner paused, thought for a minute, then looked back at the Griswald, “Once my wife is onboard, let’s depart.”

  “Sir, where do you want to go?”

  “Florida.”

  “Florida, sir?” Griswald asked, confused.

  “Yes, Florida,” Conner said standing up.

  “Why Florida?” Griswald asked with a puzzled tone.

  “You said I need a VP, didn’t you?”

  DECEMBER 6, 2014

  “Here is a test to find out whether your mission in life is complete. If you’re alive, it isn’t.”

  - Richard Bach

  Musa Qala, Helmand Province, Afghanistan

  “Get your asses on that bird, boys, go, go!” Gunny yelled at his Marines.

  The CH-53 was waiting, ramp down and props moving. Sebastian stood in his designated stick, weighted down by his gear and his thoug
hts. As they boarded, the crew chief pointed for them to go directly to the front of the helicopter.

  All the Marines in his squad sat down one after another without much thought, this was a normal drill for them. Sebastian turned and peered through the small window behind him. He saw one helicopter after another spread out along the flat plain with lines of Marines slowly boarding. He looked past the choppers to the mountains; he thought that he’d probably never see this place again. How strange, he thought that the US spent so much blood and treasure to help create a new democracy while theirs at home was now in peril. Looking back now it seemed like such a waste. He turned his head back around and looked at his fellow Marines all sitting on the webbing. After Gunny boarded the crew chief lifted the ramp and readied the chopper for liftoff. Like he always did, Sebastian said a ritualistic prayer. As he finished his prayer, he felt the chopper start to lift. There is nothing like flying in a chopper, the combination of the sound and smell was unique. He quickly turned around again and looked through the glass. The glare of the sun first blinded him, then as the chopper banked, the mountains came into view again. He wanted one last look at his home away from home. Facing forward he settled in for what he knew would be a long ride by tipping his helmet to cover his eyes and went to sleep.

  Sebastian’s slumber was interrupted by Tomlinson tapping his arm.

  “Hey corporal, we’re getting close!” Tomlinson yelled.

  Sebastian sat up and looked over his shoulder out the window. All he saw was blue sky and blue water below. Then the ships came into view when the chopper banked to the right.

  There below him was the Makin Island Amphibious Ready Group. On board was the 11th Marine Expeditionary Unit, who has been at sea for months now in the Western Pacific and Indian Ocean. His unit would be sharing quarters and the ship’s amenities with a bunch of grunts from 1st Battalion 1st Marine Regiment, a sister unit from Camp Pendleton.

  ****

  “Let’s go, Marines, move!” Gunny hollered. Sebastian and his team of Marines stood up and walked off the chopper. They proceeded down the ship’s tarmac toward the aft of the ship. The cool ocean air felt good and helped to mask the strong smell of fuel. Sebastian also could smell the saltiness of the ocean. He loved ship life, and especially loved the port calls; unfortunately there would not be liberty anytime soon. The days of pulling into foreign ports and enjoying the local flavor were over.

 

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