“Hey, not bad,” Nate said, congratulating her.
Dakota was all smiles.
“Now we’ll find out if you’re as good at skinning as you are at shooting.”
They heard a low growl from Shadow, who stood guard only a few feet away. Turning, they saw a man approaching them. He wore a heavy winter jumpsuit and a fur hat. His bushy beard, caked with icicles, partly obscured the broad smile he greeted them with. Over his shoulder and hugging his camo-patterned backpack was what looked like a hunting rifle. He appeared to be alone.
As he got closer, Nate and Dakota stood watching. All the while, the menace continued to build in the back of Shadow’s throat.
“Howdy,” the man said, his gaze fixed on the wolf. “Is he friendly?”
“For the most part,” Nate said. “Although that’ll largely depend on you.”
That made the man smile. “Good answer. I was passing through on my snowmobile and saw the tracks leading from your truck. Wanted to see if you folks were okay.”
“I just killed my first deer,” Dakota said proudly.
“Good for you, little lady.” He wiped at the icicles dangling from his facial hair in an attempt to make himself a little more presentable. “Name’s Guy Parnell. Pleasure to meet you. I hope you don’t mind me saying you two are a sight for sore eyes.”
Nate introduced himself and Dakota did the same. “Where are you coming from, Guy?” he asked warily. This wasn’t the first time a stranger had approached them from out of nowhere. And things hadn’t turned out so well back then.
“Wheaton,” Guy replied. His voice wasn’t all that deep, but it was filled with kindness and brimming with confidence. “It’s a suburb of Chicago. I’m heading out of the city and, by the looks of it, about a week behind schedule.”
“You hungry, Guy?” Nate asked.
Guy’s chin rose as he flashed a clean row of pearly whites. “I could definitely eat. Deer’s my favorite. Lemme give you a hand.” Guy turned his attention back to Shadow, who wasn’t growling anymore. “That mean I’m gonna live?” he said, half joking.
“For now,” Nate replied.
The three of them carried the carcass to a clearing that overlooked the highway. They had pulled the Beast slightly off the road. Next to that was Guy’s snowmobile.
They strung the animal up using a length of paracord and tossed the rope over a stout tree branch. Right away, Dakota got to work, emptying the guts and offering them to Shadow, who devoured them gleefully. Next, she worked the end of her knife down the length of each back limb and pulled the hide off the body. For some reason, whenever Nate watched a deer get skinned it brought up a memory from his childhood—that time his dad had gotten stuck in his sweater and his ma had run up and pulled it up from the waist over his head. Watching her yank it past his neck and arms had looked very much like what Dakota was now doing to this deer.
“Your daughter’s got a knack for living off the grid,” Guy said, impressed. “You taught her well.”
Nate shook his head. “I wish I could take credit. Most of the time she’s the one teaching me.”
Guy gave him a knowing smile, as though Nate was just being humble. Nate realized there wasn’t enough time to explain the unusual circumstances of his relationship with the girl, so he let it go. But he wasn’t willing to let everything go.
“We haven’t had much luck with strangers lately,” Nate told him as they watched Dakota slice off another chunk for Shadow, who was happy to oblige.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Guy said thoughtfully.
“I’m sure so long as both of us behave we’ll all get along just fine.”
“I suspect we will, Nate. And I feel the same way. I had my own apprehensions about the whole situation. But I can assure you, you won’t get any trouble out of me.”
Both men shook hands.
Thirty minutes later they were sitting before a fire, enjoying the delicious smell and sounds of meat cooking over an open flame. After eating from a can for so long, Nate had forgotten what a luxury it was to eat fresh food.
Nate handed Guy a haunch. He took it in his gloved hands and sank his teeth into the warm flesh. “I must say,” Guy told them, wiping the grease from his mouth with the back of his hand, “when I spotted that plow you got on the front of your truck, I knew I had to stop. Can’t say I’ve ever seen anything like it before.”
Dakota and Nate both laughed, their mouths full.
“One of a kind, I’m afraid,” Nate explained. “Was made by a friend of mine to help clear the streets in Marengo. Works like a charm too.”
“Doesn’t surprise me one bit. Is that where you were coming from, Marengo?”
Nate and Dakota both grew quiet. Neither of them were all that eager to share too much.
“Around there,” Nate offered vaguely. “But you should know, anything to the west of that is off limits now.”
“Radioactivity,” Guy said, nodding as though he knew all about it.
“You heard? Word travels fast, I suppose.”
“I got my amateur radio license a few years back,” Guy told them. “Three winters ago my car broke down on a backcountry road and I nearly froze to death. Swore to myself right then and there I’d never get caught with my pants down again. So I started filling in the gaps in my knowledge. Making up for lost time. Even went and bought myself a little place on Geneva Lake just north of here. Figured at the very least it would be a nice spot for the wife and kids. I was working on the wife and kids part when the lights went out. But I’m more than fine with my own company.”
“You manage to reach anybody on that radio of yours?” Nate asked. “Anyone who could shed some light on what’s happening?”
“No pun intended,” Dakota said, giggling as she took another bite.
“I’m hesitant to say. You seem like fine people and I’d hate to worry you any more than you already are.”
“The truth is always the best medicine,” Nate said, believing every word of it. “Even if it hurts going down.”
“Well, then,” Guy replied, tweaking one bushy eyebrow. “I suggest you brace yourselves for some pain. Seems it makes the most sense to start locally. The city of Chicago is a frozen mess.”
“Is that like a hot mess?” Dakota asked, crossing her arms.
“Sorta,” Guy replied. “Except much worse. From what I was able to learn, by the second day, any semblance of authority had completely broken down. Not even the bad weather could curb the looting. Gangs took to the streets with impunity, settling scores with rivals and taking anything they wanted, including the lives of those caught out in the open. The first few days were near-constant fighting.”
“A turf war,” Nate said. He knew these streets and had worried about what might become of them if the worst ever happened.
“That’s right. Beneath that was the predictable kind of crime wave you’d expect under these circumstances. And in the beginning, whenever the cops showed up, they’d be fired upon and either killed or driven back. Once the snow reached your thigh, they just stopped patrolling altogether.”
“Chased out of town,” Dakota said.
Nate tossed the deer bone and leaned back. “Saw the same thing in Rockford. Only there, corrupt cops were the ones leading the criminals.”
Guy laughed, steam billowing past his lips like cigarette smoke. “I haven’t heard anything about bad cops. The few who remain are holed up in the northern part of the city in what’s been called the Green Zone. Near Arlington Heights.”
“Ah, they retreated to the rich neighborhoods,” Nate said, brushing the snow off his gloves. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“It shouldn’t,” Guy said. “So, while the cops haven’t left, they’ve effectively ceded over ninety percent of the city to the criminal elements. Gangs have been banding together, forming ever larger groups. They’ve also been dipping their toes into niches that never used to exist, raiding any source of food and water and then selling it for anything of va
lue.”
Nate shook his head in disgust. “I can’t believe the National Guard hasn’t been deployed.”
“I’ve seen them,” Guy conceded. “I’m not sure if the command and control infrastructure’s been disabled, but the few groups I’ve seen trying to regain order are attacked with even greater ferocity than the police. At first, the criminals were only using pistols and the occasional rifle. Now assault weapons are the norm along with Molotov cocktails. My neighbor was an old Russian guy. Had to be ninety years old. Told me how as a child, he’d lived through the Siege of Leningrad of 1941-44. He described how people had resorted to eating horses and when those ran out, they ate their pets. Before long, there was nothing left to eat but each other. Chicago isn’t quite there yet, but rest assured it’s on its way.”
Nate felt his guts coil into a tight spring. He was starting to wonder if the pain from hearing the truth was such a good thing after all. “My family’s there now. Bused out via Rockford.”
Guy listened and nodded. “Any idea when they might have arrived?”
“My best guess is the day before yesterday. Why?”
“Well, I’m sure you can imagine, without running water, the shelters in the city started filling up pretty fast. Just about every sports stadium, concert hall and even museum was being used to house people. Predictably, FEMA was caught completely flat-footed and proved more useless than in any other disaster―at least they have in Chicago. Maybe they’re slaying it down south.”
The skepticism on Nate’s face spoke volumes.
“Yeah, highly unlikely,” Guy said. “I couldn’t agree more. Turns out the Red Cross and Doctors without Borders have really stepped up to the plate. That is, when the gangs haven’t made their lives a living hell.”
“Wasn’t so long ago a news special spoke about how members of those charities were often targeted by terrorists and militants,” Nate said. “Hard to believe Americans are behaving the same way.”
“Well, believe it. It was one of the reasons I hesitated saying anything at all. You hear enough stories of the depravity going on there and it’s enough to neuter any faith you had left in the human race.”
“Sometimes I think they deserve what’s happening,” Dakota said, her features flickering in the waves of heat rising from the fire. “Let the most depraved among us kill each other off.”
“Have at it,” Nate agreed. “But not before I pluck my family from the meatgrinder.”
“That’s exactly what it is,” Guy said, his index finger aiming at Nate. “A meatgrinder.”
Without any real communication systems available to help coordinate the evacuees, it was hardly a surprise they’d sent innocent people into such a dangerous environment. Chicago was virtually surrounded by nuclear power plants, most of them tasked with powering the city. As a handful of those nearby had begun melting down, shelter in place had no longer been a realistic option for anyone within the exclusion zones. Were it not for that, Nate and his family would surely still be back in Byron, reinforcing their home from theft and stretching their provisions.
It hadn’t been enough to sabotage the electricity. The masterminds behind the attack had decided to strike when most of the country was bracing for a massive winter storm. Even after plunging in the knife, they couldn’t help twisting the blade by sabotaging nuclear plants across the country.
“Since you’ve already scared the crap out of us,” Dakota said, her belly full with food and raw, electrified nerves, “you might as well fill us in on what you’ve learned about the rest of the country.”
Guy’s gaze fell to the burning logs as Nate threw on a gnarled chunk of wood. “I’ll start by saying most of what I’m about to tell you is rumors that have been swirling faster than they ever did over broadband. Seems the internet’s been replaced by the good old-fashioned radio wave.”
“Oh, lovely,” Nate scoffed. “The only good thing to die in all this is already coming back from the dead.”
“Amen, brother. But with the disclaimers out of the way, all of North America’s gone dark and worst of all, no one knows why or who’s behind it.”
Nate’s back straightened. “I can venture a guess on both counts. I mean it should be simple enough to figure out who’s got the most to gain by America getting knocked off. The barbarians have breached the gates and they’re burning everything down, just like they did in Ancient Rome.”
Guy grinned. “That may be so. You see, ever since junior high, I’ve been something of a student of history. Those barbarians you mentioned, the ones often given credit for destroying the glory of Rome—well, would it surprise you to learn that most of them weren’t bloodthirsty savages wearing horned helmets? Some plundered and raped, sure. But most of them wanted one thing.”
“Food?” Dakota said, licking the grease off her fingers.
Guy shook his head. “They wanted to be Romans. Just look at all those European kings who followed. Some didn’t even try to hide it, like the Czar of Russia. Czar means Caesar.”
“I’m not sure I’m following you,” Nate said, his eyes narrowing.
“You mentioned earlier the people who attacked us were out to destroy America,” Guy said. “You might be right. But not because they hate us. They want to be us. They want all the great things we have. Want it so badly it drives them mad.” Guy pointed the deer bone at both of them. “Not that it changes a whole lot, mind you, but if we’re going to use reason to find a likely culprit, it helps to understand their potential motives.”
Dakota shook her head. “Looks like we’ll be in this mess for a while to come.”
“I’m afraid so,” Guy said, nodding.
Nate leaned forward. “At the risk of sounding out of line, I can’t help but see this as something almost providential.”
“Apart from a belly full of delicious food, I’d say there’s nothing divine about any of this.”
The corners of Nate’s mouth tensed. “Of course, it doesn’t feel that way now. But I can’t be the only one who’s felt for a long time the country and maybe even the world was heading in the wrong direction. And I’m not just talking politically here. Over the years, it seems folks have been getting crazier, deadlier, more disconnected from one another. Man versus man in a caged deathmatch that ends in mutual annihilation. I mean, that’s the way things have been heading for a while—into a garbage heap or a mushroom cloud. The only question wasn’t if, but how we’d get there. When the lights went out, it might have killed a lot of the things we loved, but it might also have removed the very things pushing us towards destruction. Look at us, sitting around a fire, enjoying a meal and a conversation. In the old world we’d all be glued to our phones.” He thumped his own chest. “And I’m a tech guy. You’d think I’d be singing its praises. I went into cyber-security because deep down, part of me knew all this wonderful tech would play a major role in leading us to our doom. But here’s my point. Maybe from all this bad something good can grow. We just need to make sure that if the lights ever do come back on we’ve done away with the rot that was killing us in the first place. That we have a new, much stronger foundation based on solid principles.”
“Something closer to what the Founding Fathers envisioned,” Guy said.
Nate nodded. “Yes, a kind of rebirth. It won’t be long before the cities empty out completely and the United States is nothing but a loose patchwork of independent communities. If one of them can be a model for the rest, then maybe some good can come of all this misery. Maybe we can claw our way out of darkness into something that’s never been done before.”
Dakota and Guy were both listening intently. Even Shadow, curled up by the fire, watched Nate through the dancing flames.
Slowly, the electricity of the moment began to fade and they returned to a quiet conversation. Nate knew he was onto something. But he also knew the transition he described wouldn’t be an easy one. The twin crucibles that had given birth to the country―once after the Revolution and again after the Civil War―had a
lso nearly destroyed it. Although the vision was one worth fighting for, he also knew that it was always darkest before the dawn.
Chapter 17
Holly’s only friend in Chicago was an old high school buddy named Amrita Bhatt. Although from different cultures―Holly was about as white as Wonder Bread and Amrita as Indian as Bollywood―they had been nearly inseparable until college had pulled them apart. Amrita’s burning desire to be a writer had only grown stronger during her high school years. And yet that same desire had also died a violent death the minute her parents learned of her intention to pursue a degree in literature. It would be as useless as an acting degree, they had told her. And challenging their disapproval had been too much for her.
Originally, Holly and Amrita had been planning on attending the University of Washington together. But after days of badgering, the writing had been swapped for an engineering degree and UW traded in for the University of Illinois. In fact, the entire family had uprooted and resettled in order to support and perhaps supervise Amrita.
In the years that followed, the two woman had kept in touch as much as was possible. After marrying a respectable Indian man five years ago, Amrita had settled into her new family life. The capstone was a million-dollar condo overlooking the downtown core, compliments of her husband, a renowned cardiologist.
In the handful of years since their marriage, Holly had promised time and time again that she would come visit. But life with Travis required giving him a full itinerary whenever she was out of his sight. The heartache of dealing with his drama had sapped all the fun out of a trip she’d been looking forward to. And yet Holly liked to think of herself as a woman of her word. Following a harrowing journey from Chicago O’Hare airport, trapped in a strange city that wanted nothing more than to take her life and that of her young son, Amrita’s high-rise condo was starting to look like her last hope.
Manny pulled the snowcat in front of the upscale Kensington Estates and killed the engine. “You want us to come up with you?”
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