1a_summer_
nuclear

Loren Wadzeck

	

		
a summer nuclear 
copyright 2010
asdil publishing
with permission from the EON Group
and the grass creeps in from the other side
feedback welcome:  lwadzeck@hotmail.com 

With enough time, an improbability becomes an inevitability.
				A Path Where No Man Thought
				     Carl Sagan __ Richard Turco	

	And the pictures flashed before my eyes.  A newsreel of the world how it was.  All races, nationalities, and sexes doing what it is that they do.  Fathers playing catch with their sons.  Young girls telling each other secrets.  Protesters flashing peace signs.  Children playing in the grass.  Parents laughing.  Proud.  Panning out across the vast ocean.  A family going to a soccer match.  Men drinking.  Women worrying.  On their way to work.  Worshipers on their knees.  A man beaten on the street.  AK-47 gunfire in the air.  Strange men in masks jumping out of the back of a truck.  Young Asian couple with smiles for all.  Sitting around the food which is on a rug on the floor.  The United Nations building.  Panning across to each face on the floor.  Different but mostly there for the same reason.  Fearful eyes looking around the room.  Outside there are people walking by.  In the city, there are people going about daily routines.  In all countries around the world, people just doing what they do and letting others make their minds up for them.  There have been no more secrets ever since the media’s midlife crisis.  All the cities, small towns, and villages fill to the top.  Everybody has their own version of the world’s events.  Of who is right and who is wrong.  Right now is always the fault of somebody else.  Just fill in the blank on the sign that is held by those who are blindly optimistic.  And with their blinders down, they will run to the conclusion that those who wish to do them harm arrived at long ago.  And when this happens, how could the outcome have been any different?

Pre

	They were two different people, completely separate.  But tonight, they were exactly the same.  Each had on dark clothing but nothing that would command attention.  Both clean cut, freshly shaven.  Both had three different sets of handcuffs attaching the suitcase they were carrying to their wrist.
	They walked with a deliberate pace towards their destination.  Not too fast nor too slow.  The weather was nice in both areas.  Cool but somewhat muggy.
	They both reached their final point at roughly the same time.  A park bench in two different downtown areas.  The two men sat on their respective bench, placing the suitcase down on the bench beside them.  
	No matter what else happened in the next couple of minutes, they had succeeded.  They had made it.  One man patted his suitcase as though it were a pet.  The other pulled the suitcase onto his lap and held it.  He was holding change, he thought to himself.  He was holding history.  Both men checked their watches.  
	Almost.  Each one took in their surroundings.  One man saw a car advertisement on the side of one of the downtown buildings.  
	“Ford - Driving Miami!” it read.
	The other man saw an identical ad, but his read:
	“Ford - Driving Seattle!”
	Almost time.
	Originally, they were going to go to the top story of a building downtown to do this but decided that scenario presented too many variables.  Too many unknowns to a plan like that.  Too many chances for something to go wrong.	
	They would keep it street level.  Besides, maximum damage was not the ultimate thing they were after.  Both men checked their watch again.  
	It was time.
	Both input a code on their suitcase and the locks opened.  The opened suitcases revealed two long tubes and a timer which was counting down.  This was completely unnecessary.  Both cases had been programmed forty-eight hours ago to detonate at this exact time.  The men just wanted to watch the countdown.
	When the numbers showed 10 seconds, one man closed the suitcase and waited.  The other watched it the entire time.

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	It was always assumed that the next attack would come at a time when maximum casualties could be incurred.  At rush hour or lunch or during the evening commute home.  A time when the most lives could be taken.  But the next attack did not take place during these busy times, instead it came in the middle of the night.  Many thought it was because there was less security during these hours, fewer obstacles, less chance of a “hero” interfering.  But whatever the reason was for the choice of time, at approximately 1:45 a.m. EST on a Tuesday morning, a pair of suitcase nuclear bombs, about 10 kilotons each, detonated in the American cities of Seattle and Miami.  It was most likely a suicide mission because no group would want to take a chance of leaving such a device in the middle of downtown and it failing to go off by remote control.  Also, since the hour was so late, the bomber could walk into the center of the city with possibly nobody even seeing them and detonate the bomb manually.  For this reason, and also because these particular cities had less security even during the daytime than a New York or Los Angeles, they were made targets.  The idea that a terrorist could use a suitcase nuclear bomb had been tossed around for years.  It was known that the US and the former USSR had made quite a few of them during the Cold War.  It was also possible that several other countries possessed them too.  These bombs were designed to strike fear in the heart of the enemy, not to take millions of lives like other nuclear weapons were capable of doing.  The size of these suitcase nukes varied.  Some were literally the size of a large suitcase while others were about briefcase size.  The biggest one was no more than 20 or so kilotons.  Contrast this with the largest nuclear blast ever, 50+ megatons, and these suitcase weapons were the kid brother in nuclear warfare.  
	Since the attacks happened at the time they did, the casualties for both cities combined was around 35,000.  Several experts said that if the attacks had happened at a high traffic time, that number would have been well over 500,000.  Even the damage done by the bombs was confined to a 10 block radius of the blast.  Buildings within the initial 5 blocks of the bomb were destroyed but beyond that the buildings just had windows blown out, cracks up the side of them, or multiple fires within.  The casualties mostly came from downtown apartments which were occupied when the attack happened.  
	Authorities were not surprised by reports of looting and disorderly behavior in the cities.  They imagined that would happen.  But there were also reports of widespread looting and riot behavior in cities not affected by the bombs.  This was mainly chalked up to the fact that some people just need a reason, any reason, to engage in lawless behavior.  
	Many claims were made by various groups taking responsibility for the attacks.  All these claims were made via an obscure web site or badly made videotape which were aired by networks with nothing else to entertain their viewers with.  There were calls for blood from the nation.  A call for something to be done to those responsible.  But the fact was, something that was never made public, the government did not really know who the responsible party was.  Of course there were many different groups that this could be blamed on and the country would be justified in attacking, but the government really needed to find out exactly who was behind this.  Were more attacks coming?  Did they have more nuclear weapons in their arsenal?  The stakes were too high this time to just pick a common enemy and place the blame on them.  This time they had to be sure.
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	It was the smell of coffee that woke Marc up.  It took him a second to place the flavor.  Dry Roasted Almond.  His second favorite.  He let his nose enjoy the aroma a little bit longer and then he got out of bed.  He went to brush his teeth but then did a u-turn and decided that could wait until after his morning caffeine fix.  He walked down the hallway, which was lined with pictures, and into the kitchen.
	“Morning,” he said. “You sure know how to wake someone up around here.”
	“Yes, I know.” Alice said.  “I thought this might get you going.”
	Marc leaned over and kissed his wife of six years.  “Love you.”  
	Then he kissed her stomach.  She was only a month along so she was not showing that much just yet.  “Love you too.” he said to her midriff.
	He grabbed the television remote and was about to turn it on but stopped.  He knew what was going to be on. The only thing that had been on for two days.  Alice saw him put the remote back down and come back to the kitchen.  
	“Here.” she said, handing him a hot cup of coffee.  “Maybe this will help.”
	He gave her a smile.  “Yeah, maybe.”
	Marc had been on edge ever since the terrorist attacks a couple of days ago.  But, just to be fair, he wasn’t the only one.  The scenes from the two affected cities were terrifying.  The aftermath of the bombs were bad enough but then the way people behaved afterward was very disturbing to many people.  There were many reports of murders, rapes, widespread looting, etc.  Both cities’ populations, or what was left of them, had turned into complete savages.  It was every person for themselves.  Everybody remembered the response of New York after September 11th.  People were helping each other and doing what they could to get through it.  There was a sense of civility and law immediately following the attacks.  Even in European cities that had fallen victim to terrorists’ bombs reacted in a level-headed way.  
	But not this time.  This time felt different.  It was like some people were using this as an excuse to display mankind’s worst behavior.  Couple this with the fear that this behavior may spread to other areas around the country and you end up with a population that is on edge.  This tragedy not only hit Marc and Alice emotionally but financially as well.  Marc worked in stocks for a living and the market had taken a gigantic blow following the attacks.  In a move to show the perpetrators of the attack that “we would not be defeated”, the stock market opened the day after the pair of attacks.  And for this effort, it was rewarded with the single largest drop in stock market history.  NASDAQ, which usually traded as a whole at around 1000 to 1100 on a normal day, dropped to 145 in two hours.  The market was quickly shut down and anybody who had anything invested in the market lost it all.  
	So much for showing them that we won’t be defeated, Marc fumed to himself as he drove home that day.  Once they found out that Alice was pregnant, Marc hoped that she would be able to take off work for a year or so.  He had invested most of their savings in various companies that were a safe bet.  Safe, that is, until two nuclear devices detonated on American soil.  Now the money was gone.  Not only that but Marc imagined that his job was probably over.  Nobody was going to buy or sell stocks when they were only worth pennies apiece.  	
	Marc took the coffee from Alice.  “Thanks sweetie.”  He turned and began to walk back into the living room.
	“No, no, no!  Stop right there!” she commanded.
	Marc stopped at where the kitchen tile met the living room carpet.  Then he remembered.
	“I won’t have you spilling that on the new carpet.” Alice said, somewhat joking but not really.
	“Sorry, sorry.  I forgot about the precious carpet.” he said, smiling at her.  
	Ever since they had moved into this place, Alice had absolutely hated the carpet in it.  They lived in what could best be described as a cross between an apartment and a town home.  They had talked about buying a house but this place was not too far of a drive from either of their jobs, so for now they decided to stay.  But unfortunately for the carpet, it did not.  Alice had spent weeks trying to find the exact color she was looking for.  After she did, it took another couple of weeks for the store to come out and measure the rooms, cut the carpet, and come install it.  Ever since then, the new carpet was a food and drink free zone.  Even shoes were an enemy of the new carpet as far as Alice was concerned.  Marc had to put his shoes on outside once he was out of the home, so as not to walk on the carpet with them on.  He found this a little silly but it made her happy, so he obliged.  
	He came back into the kitchen to drink his coffee in there.  Alice had made herself a cup too and was sitting down at the kitchen table. 
	“So do you think you guys will have school this next week?” Marc asked her.  
	Alice taught kindergarten at one of the area schools around downtown.  They had been off ever since the attacks.
	“I believe so.  The principal said that she would call if we needed to cancel any more days and so far I haven’t heard from her.”
	“Hmmm, okay.” came Marc’s reply.  He was nervous now about her teaching near downtown.  Who knows if more attacks were planned?  And the next time they may not do it in the middle of the night.  They may do it in the middle of the day.  If downtown was hit, there was a good chance that her school would suffer the consequences.
	“Honey, it’s all right.” Alice said.  “We’ve already talked about this.  We’re not going to completely change our lives because of insane assholes who don’t like us or our government.  I won’t do that.  I will go to that school when they open it back up and not have an ounce of fear about doing it.  You shouldn’t either.”
	“I know.  I just...ugggh.  I don’t know what I’d do if something were to happen.” Marc said, covering her hand in his.  
	“If something is going to happen, it’s going to happen.  We cannot do anything to change it.  We just have to keep on doing what we do and believe that things will work out.”
	He smiled at her.  Believing was something he was having a hard time doing the past few days.

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	It only took investigators a few days after the explosions to determine that the bombs had originated in Russia.  A container in the Russian made bombs used a certain type of metal that was only available in one of the former Soviet republics.  Since the US would do no business with the “Evil Empire” back then, they used another kind of metal for the US bombs.  The investigators found the old Soviet metal in both downtowns where the bombs had gone off.  
	This was a two part relief on Washington’s part.  First, they were relieved that it hadn’t been a US suitcase nuke that had been used against them.  If this had been the case, it would have been impossible to tell the public that nuclear devices such as these weren’t as guarded as they needed to be.  There would have been a massive cleaning out of Washington if those bombs had “Made in the USA” on them.  Also, since the bombs came from Russia, it gave politicians in Washington a chance to jump on Russia for their lack of security concerning smaller nuclear arms.  Ever since the fall of the Soviet Union, the laxness of security around Russian nuclear sites had been a cause for concern.  Even more alarming had been the interception of an email one time by a top Russian lawmaker which said “if somebody wants to use our weapons to attack our enemies, why should we put roadblocks in their way?”  The only reason they had any security whatsoever around these sites was the fear that one of the countries that broke away from the USSR might use these weapons against Russia in some kind of retaliation against the communist rule they had lived under for so many years.  
	But now Washington had a dilemma.  Should they somehow try to hold Russia responsible for the attack since it was their weapons that had been used?  And if so, what exactly did it mean to “hold them responsible”?  They certainly didn’t want a war with Russia.  Even though the USSR had collapsed, they still had thousands of nuclear weapons.  Maybe they could get Russia, if they knew, to tell them when certain weapons had gone missing and who might have taken them.  However Washington was going to handle this, it would have to be done delicately.  They did not want to awaken an old enemy who might not have as much to lose this time around if war broke out.  

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	The first call to the Russians had gone about as well as could have been expected.  There was the obligatory condemnation of the attacks on the US and a vow to help track down the people responsible.  And, they added, if there was anything else they could do...let them know.  Actually, the US said, there was.  The next call to Moscow came just a few days later.  It was made by the Vice President with full backing of the President and high-ranking officials.  It was decided to do it this way just in case Moscow did not understand the seriousness of the call, the US could always go one higher and have the President himself get on the phone.  
	“Please wait while we connect you with Moscow.” came the female voice over the speaker phone.  Gone were the days of the Cold War when you could pick up the “red phone” and immediately be in touch with the Russian leadership.  Now, everybody had secretaries and switchboard operators to re-route the calls to where they needed to go.  And you usually talked to several unnecessary people before you actually got in touch with whom you called for to begin with.  This was probably done for a couple of reasons.  One, to give these people a feeling of importance, no matter how hollow.  And two, to make the calling party have to wait before talking to those in charge.  Maybe this gave them a sense of power.  Of control.  Whatever the reason, the Vice President had to wait more than twenty minutes before finally getting his counterpart in Russia on the phone.  
	“Good afternoon Mr. Vice President.” came the calm, cool voice of the Russian over the speaker phone in flawless, almost unaccented English.  Something that always impressed the VP about the man was that no matter when they spoke, the Russian always knew the time of day in the US and greeted the VP with that.  
	“Hello sir, how are you today?” the Vice President responded.
	“Very well.  I wish to reiterate our condolences to you and your people over the tragic loss of life that your country has endured.”
	“Yes, well, thank you for your kind words.  I appreciate them, the President appreciates them, and I know the American people appreciate them also.”
	“Absolutely.” the Russians said.  “Now, how may I help you today?”
	“Well, I hate to stop the pleasantries but I’m afraid this call is not going to be an accommodating one.” the Vice president said.
	“Oh...I see.  And in what manner do you wish this conversation to continue?”
	“Let me get right to it.  We’ve known each other long enough to not beat around the bush or waste each other’s time.”
	“Yes, yes we have.  Please, say what you need to say.”the Russian said with a hint of an edge in his voice.
	“As you might have known, we’ve completed the investigation into the nuclear devices that were exploded in two of our cities.  After examining the materials we recovered from the two sites, it was found that the bombs were two suitcase nuclear weapons made in your country.”
	There was a long pause on the other end.
	“I see.” the Russian said.  “I am as deeply disturbed by this as you are, believe me.”
	“Nonetheless,” the Vice President continued. “something is going to have to be done about this.”
	“What do you mean by this?” the Russian exclaimed, his voice rising.  “You know that we do everything in our power to secure our weapons stockpile but we are not a rich country anymore.  We can only devote so many of our resources to this task.”
	“Yes, we know.  That is why we are taking the following action.  Sir, en route to your country as we speak, is a delegation of US policymakers and weapons inspectors.  The first group is to show the world that we are taking a diplomatic approach to this first.  The second group of people are there to see what, if any, other weapons may be missing from your weapons cache.”
	Again, there was a silence on the phone.
	“Am I to understand that these people are on their way here to shake their finger at us, tell us what all we did wrong, and then expect an all-access pass to our weapons stockpile?”
	“Well maybe not in so harsh of terms...but yes, something like that.” the Vice President responded.
	The Russian let out a small chuckle.  “Well sir, I’m afraid that I have some disappointing news for you.  My government will not honor such bold demands.  I understand that you are under a great deal of pressure to hold someone responsible for the attacks upon your country, but you are starting to play a dangerous game, my friend.”
	“Game?” the Vice President replied.  “Believe me, this is no game.  The fact of the matter is that two nuclear weapons that you guys made, ended up in the hands of terrorists.  It is my country’s responsibility to ensure that never happens again.  Now, I understand that you do not want Americans poking around your warehouses and military bases acquiring information about your weapons programs.  That is why we are trying to do this as privately as possible.  We need your government’s full cooperation on this.”
	“This is absurd.  Keeping it private?  Your people have already been all over television telling the world that the bombs were of Russian origin.  Now you know as well as I do that were the roles reversed and it was Russia who had been attacked with American made bombs, you would not allow us the access that you are now asking for.  I’m afraid that this is a dead-end street you are venturing down.”
	“No, I don’t believe it is.” the Vice President replied.  “In approximately thirty minutes, our plane will be arriving at Moscow Prolov Airfield...”
	“Moscow Prolov....” the Russian sounded like he wanted to laugh out loud but shock held him back.  “You expect to land this plane of yours at a Moscow military base?  Sir, with all due respect, have you lost your mind?”
	“At that time,” the Vice President continued.  “You are to escort them to the locations that we have already determined need to be looked into.  Any failure on your government’s part to accommodate our people will be highly frowned upon and further actions may be taken by us.”
	“Ok, Mr. Vice President, now just slow down.” the Russian started to break a little bit and sounded nervous.  “This is highly unusual and aggressive.  Now I don’t know if maybe all of you have not gotten much sleep since the attacks and are just tired, but this type of talk is not going to do either of us any good.  Now my advice to you sir is this.  Turn that plane around, get some rest, talk with your people some more and then we can resume our talks.  This is not a good time for rash decision-making.”
	“Thirty minutes, sir.  This is not something that we can sit around and wait on to happen.  We need to know as soon as possible how many more weapons might be missing from your stockpiles and where they might have gone.”
	“Ok, we are all being bold here.  Now it is my turn.  Under no circumstances is that plane to land at one of our military bases.  This act would be far too aggressive and akin to slapping Russia across the face.  Sir, landing that plane right now would be the worst move you could make.”
	“I’m sorry my friend.  This is something that has to be done.  We must find out soon any information that might save our citizens’ lives.  I know how it must look to you, but please try and see it from our perspective.”
	The Russian had finally had enough.  “Again, I repeat, under no circumstance is that plane to land here.  That is all I have to say on the matter.”
	With that, he hung up the phone.  The conversation was now over.  The Vice President turned to his advisors.  
	“Well, what do you think?” he asked.  Actually he already knew what they thought.  They were split pretty much 50/50 as to whether they should have done this.  Some felt that it was far too aggressive a move and that we would put ourselves in another Cuban missile crisis type of a situation.  The other half knew that the ultimate taboo had happened, a nuclear bomb detonated on American soil and that any show of weakness right now would invite new attacks.  The US had to show that countries needed to be responsible for the weapons they develop.  If they cannot secure them then they do not need to build them to begin with.  
	The Vice President called the President on a secure line and filled him in on what had just transpired.  After he got off the phone, he told his advisors to meet back here in thirty minutes.  We will see what Russia’s move is at that time.

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	“Boys if I have to tell you one more time to get up...” Adam heard the voice of his mother drifting up the stairs.  He rolled over, his longish black hair slapping the pillow.  He was well aware of the morning drill.  His mother’s voice would wake him up and then it was his job to wake his younger brother up.  That was sometimes the hardest part of the day.  He threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat up.  This was his reflective part of the morning, just sitting on the edge of the bed.  The part where he tried to decide if his life was going the way he wanted it to go.  Adam knew he was too introspective.  Many different people made him well aware of this.  On a daily basis.  He was a few months out of high school.  What college did he want to attend?  Don’t know.  Did he want to possibly go to a music school?  Don’t know.  Would he like to maybe just work for a year before deciding his next move?  Don’t know.  Because of those answers, Adam was now taking a few classes at a junior college not too far from home.  This way, his parents said, if he decides to go to a university, he would already have a few classes under his belt.  When his mom had suggested music school, he thought that maybe that would be the way to go.  He was a very good piano player.  Had started lessons when he was six and just “got it” right away.  The problem with music school was that he just wasn’t into recitals and that type of thing.  He did not care to play with a group of people or to learn pieces written by others.  He did his best when he was alone in a room with his instruments and was left to come up with his own work.  He was lucky in the fact that he had parents who supported him in this endeavor and had bought him some decent equipment.  He had a keyboard, nice set of speakers, and a computer that had several music programs on it which he could record his work on.  He had much of his original work stored on it and his goal was to make a CD at some point of it all.  He had everything hooked up to a pretty good sized battery that would power the equipment if the lights went out while he was in the middle of something.  	
	Adam got off the bed and walked toward his door.  He needed to work on something tonight; he had been lazy recently when it came to music.  He walked down the hall and opened the door to his brother’s room.  
	Brian was sleeping in his normal position.  On his stomach, completely submerged in the covers.  One would have to look hard to tell that there was a person underneath all of it.  
	“Come on, get up.” Adam said, pulling the covers back.  Brian was not moving.
	He shook him but Brian was still out.
	“All right.  It’s going to be one of those mornings.” Adam said and walked across Brian’s room.  Brian had a little dorm fridge he kept in the corner of his room filled with cokes.  Adam opened the fridge, took a coke out, and walked back to the bed.  He pulled Brian’s boxer shorts back and dropped the cold coke into them.  Brian yelled in surprise and did a little dance around in his bed trying to get the cold can out.  He finally got it out and threw a pillow at Adam who was on the ground laughing.  
	“I was about to get up.” Brian said.
	“Sure.”
	Adam walked over to Brian’s desk and started looking through a stack of baseball cards he had sitting there.  Brian, sensing opportunity, got out of bed and snuck towards Adam with the cold can behind his back.  He got up behind Adam and pressed the can to his bare back.  Adam jumped and the baseball cards went flying.  He grabbed Brian and tackled him back onto the bed.  Brian began hitting him with a pillow and Adam was blindly trying to grab whatever he could to counter-attack.  He grabbed something that was hanging on the corner post of the bed and was about to hit Brian with it until he realized what it was.  The baseball glove.  Brian stopped hitting Adam with the pillow and they both looked at the glove for a minute.  Adam gave Brian a playful tap on the head with it and said, “Come on, let’s get ready.”

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	“We have them on the phone, sir.” the senior Secret Service member told the Vice President.
	The VP looked up from his desk and let out a long breath.  “All right.”  He got up and followed the man out of the office, down the hall, and back to the meeting room.  When he entered, he saw that the President was on the teleconferencing screen and several high level advisors were seated around the table.  
	“Are we all here?”  the President asked.
	“Yes sir we are, let’s get a situation update.” the VP responded.
	The President nodded.  “General, are you with us?”
	“Yes Mr. President.  I’m here.” came a loud, authoritative voice over the black speaker phone in the middle of the table.
	“Good.  Please let us know the latest happenings.”
	“Sir, we entered Russian airspace approximately ten minutes ago.  Initially, two fighter jets were sent up to intercept us, we got in radio contact with them, advised them of the situation, and they now escorting us to the base.”	
	The VP looked around the room.  They were being escorted to the base?  This was an unexpected move on the part of the Russians.
	“General, what did the pilots of the fighters say?” asked the President.
	“Not much sir.  After we told them who we were and what the purpose of our trip was, they radioed their commander.  After a very short time, they came back and said that they would provide us an escort to Prolov Field.”
	“Mr. President, I find this highly unusual.”  The VP said.  “When I last spoke with Russia, it was made clear that they did not want us anywhere near one of their bases.  Now they’re clearing a way for us?  This doesn’t sit well with me.”
	The President paused for a moment.  “General, what about the plane carrying the diplomats?  How far behind you are they?”
	“Sir, they are just minutes behind us.  From what I understand, they also have a couple of escort fighter jets flying beside them.  We actually have a visual on Prolov right now, so we should be landing very shortly.”
	The Vice President began to feel sick.  This did not sound good at all.  It sounded like Russia was trying to call Washington’s bluff, only there was no bluff to be called.  The second those suitcase nukes went off, the rules changed.  One way or another, the world’s nuclear stockpile was going to get an inventory check.  Russia would be the starting point, but others would follow.  Many policy-makers said this would just be another example to the world of American arrogance, but the US stockpile would also go through a public accounting.  They had to know how many more of these things could be coming.
	“Sir, we have begun the landing process at Prolov.” the General’s voice boomed through the speaker phone.  “We are about to touch down right now.”
	The VP looked up at the President on the screen and the President nodded at him reassuringly.  
	“Sir, there appears to be quite a welcome wagon for us here.” the General said.
	“What do you mean?”
	“Well, there are several tanks and a couple hundred soldiers at the end of the runway.”
	“You are landing at a military base, General.” the President reminded him.
	“I know that sir....we’ve landed and come to a complete stop now.  The reason I mentioned all that is because they are starting to circle our planes now.”
	The VP really felt ill now.  This was a worst-case scenario that had been envisioned and it was beginning to play out.  
	“Sir, there can be no doubt about this now.  They’ve circled our planes with the soldiers and tanks in an offensive pose...like they are about to strike.  I’m afraid if they do that, there is nothing we can do to defend ourselves.  The soldiers have their guns aimed at us now.”
	“Mr. Vice-President.”  the senior Secret Service man reappeared.  “He’s on the line.”

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	“Mr. Vice President, as I’m sure you are aware by now, we have decided that your diplomats are now welcome here.” the Russian began.
	“This is not a smart move.” the VP responded.
	“It seems that I said the same thing not too long ago to you.”
	“Please sir, tell your men to put down their weapons and let our dignitaries do their job.”
	“There is no job to be done.” he said.  “We do not want them here.  You need to let your pilots know that they should turn their planes around and head back home.”
	“If our people are not allowed to do thier job, then we only have one other option.” the VP said.
	“Oh, and what option would this be?” the Russian asked.
	“A tactical strike one your nuclear stockpiles.”
	There was a brief silence on the phone.
	“Oh, now this is really getting absurd.” the Russian said. “We both know that you will not do that.  In actuality, you cannot do that.  What do you think, Mr. Vice President?  That we have all our weapons sitting around in piles?  With a big target painted on them?”
	“Well let me rephrase it then.” the VP sighed.  “There will be various tactical strikes on your weapons.”
	“You are talking about an act of war.  Mr. Vice President, Russian did not attack your cities.  Terrorists did.  And you response is going to be provoking a full-scale nuclear war with us?  Your logic makes no sense.”
	“This has come down from the highest corridors of power here in Washington.  There are no other choices.”
	“Have you so easily forgotten the MAD doctrine?  Mutually Assured Destruction?  If you attack us and there is a nuclear war, we both lose...”
	“Well...let’s not be so sure about that...”
	There was a longer silence this time.
	“What are you hiding Mr. Vice President?  What are you not telling me?”
	“Ten minutes.  You have ten minutes to release our people and let them on the ground to do their work.”
	“Mr....”
	But there was nobody on the other end.  The line had gone dead.
	The Russian held the phone for a moment before placing it back on its holder.  What was going on?  This looked to be a very reckless and stupid move on Washington’s part.  But they were not stupid people.  You don’t cause the collapse of a superpower with thousands of nuclear weapons by being stupid.  No, something else was going on here.  Did Washington possibly have a weapon that they had no knowledge of?  Their intelligence agencies had been underfunded for years now.  Perhaps something big was missed.  Something that Washington thought would give them an edge in nuclear warfare.  Something that would make such a thing winnable.  The Russian thought about the VP’s voice for a minute.  It was serious.  He absolutely would advise the president to strike if their diplomats were not given a green light tod o their mission.  Russia could not let them get the first strike.  Especially if they had something secret that Russia did not know about.  We must hit them first.  We would be justified.  We have been threatened.  He picked up the phone back up to call the Russian president.

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	“No mom, I’m not worried.” Hannah said into the phone as she groaned to herself and checked the clock.  It was more or less the normal time she usually got up so she could not be too mad at her mother for calling this early in the morning.  Hannah let out a whistle and her cat Jimminy came sprinting into the room.
	“Now why would I move?” she asked the mouthpiece of the phone.  “Wouldn’t that be like letting them win or something?”  Ever since the terror attacks a few days ago, her mother had been constantly calling her, worried about her safety.  Hannah lived in an apartment just a few blocks from downtown.  What if that had happened there, her mother kept asking.  You would have been killed.  
	“Mom, I’m not going to alter my life because I’m afraid of something.  Of course it’s risky living where I do, but I like it here.  I’m finally doing well for myself.” Hannah got out of bed and walked towards the kitchen area of her small apartment.  Jimminy followed right behind her.  “Why are you so concerned about me now?  I mean, I barely hear from you for a couple of years and then all of the sudden you’re calling non-stop.”  Hannah opened the refrigerator.  “You’re concerned about me?  Well, if that’s the case then why didn’t you...”
	Hannah stopped.  She was not going to get into that right now.  “Look, I’m fine.  I’m not worried.  I need to go, need to get ready for work.”  Hannah pulled a coffee-flavored drink out of the fridge and opened it.  “Right...ok...ok, bye.”  She put the phone down on the counter and threw her hands up in the air.  “Uggghhh!”  She looked over at her cat.  “Jims, what are we gonna do?  She’s driving me crazy.”  Jimminy meowed back a response.  Hannah went over to the pantry, took out his cat food, and poured some into his bowl.  Jimminy immediately attacked the food, acting as though he had not eaten in days.
	“Fat cat.” Hannah said as she put the food back into the pantry.  Jimminy looked up at her, licked his lips, and went back to eating.
	Hannah walked over to the couch, sat down and turned on the television.  Before the screen came to life, she knew what was going to be on.  The terror attacks and the ensuing panic around the country.  Authorities trying to determine how radioactive the two cities were, all the security measures around town, people wondering why we had not responded to the attacks yet.  Ever since it happened, Hannah was kind of nervous about living where she did.  Something like that could very easily happen here.  At the end of the day, it’s pretty hard to stop a determined crazy person or people.  Hannah walked over to a window in the living room that oversaw many of the office buildings downtown.  It was sunny today.  Hot.  Nice.  She watched all the cars and people on their way to work.  Many had been apprehensive at first about returning to work in downtown.  But fear will only keep people away for so long.  They all made their way back.  Hannah stepped back from the window, looked at the clock, and saw that it was time to get ready for work.
	She saw her journal sitting on the floor beside the couch.  Right where she had left it last night.  She went over, picked it up, and opened the book to where she had left off in her writings.  She had written quite a bit recently.  Mostly poetry type stuff.  She read the last lines she wrote last night before falling asleep.
	it all comes out
	knew from the start
	from all of our sins
	we will never be apart

	She had been in a much more contemplative mood recently and it was beginning to show.  She found herself asking “why” quite a bit more.  “Why” all this has happened.  “Why” people hate so viciously.  “Why” we do some of the things we do.  She was asking this on a personal, religious, and nationalistic level.  Trying to find out where all of these overlapped into each other.  
	Hannah looked at the clock again.  It was really time to get ready now.			

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	The Vice President looked around the room.  Would Russia go for it?  Or would they call one of the biggest bluffs in history?  He glanced at one of his long-time aides and saw his look of defeat.  Then man then looked down at the table, got up, and left the room.  Without a doubt, this was one of the more unpopular decisions that the administration had made.  Why would you bluff on a scale this big, some of their analysts asked.  You may scare Russia into starting a war by doing this, they warned.  The Vice President finished looking at the face of every person in the room and then he called one of the generals over to him.
	“Yes sir.” the general said.
	“Please notify NORAD that we may have a serious problem on our hands in the next few minutes.” the VP said.
	“Yes sir.” the general said, and then went to a nearby telephone to carry out his mission.
	Everyone in the room looked ill.  The VP picked up the phone to call the President.
	“It’s done.” he said.  “Are you sure you still....ok...I understand.”
	He then hung the phone back up.
	“General, is NORAD briefed?” the VP asked.
	“Yes sir, the skies are being watched like a hawk.”
	The Vice President nodded.  He felt himself becoming physically sick.  Was this what it felt like to possibly have ordered the deaths of millions of people?

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	The controller was watching the screen.  He was assigned to the Northeast section of the continental United States.  If anything showed up on radar over that area, he’d know about it.  
	Blip, blip....went the green line as it made circles around the dark screen.
	If anything shows up on radar, notify us immediately, they were all told.  It had been a while since the tone in the room had been like that.  The older guys said it was like that a lot during the Cold War.  They had a few moments like that after September 11th.  But this was the first one in quite a while.  
	Blip, blip....
	Then several green dots began to appear on the screen.  The controller snapped to it.
	“OK sir, we have a confirmation of a launch on their part.  These are coming from coordinates that match the location of known missile silos within Russia.”  
	There started off being three or four dots, then more and more filled the screen.  The controller just watched.  The opening scene of Armageddon, he thought, being played out on an old black and green monitor.  He began sending the information about the various missile coordinates to his co-workers so they could assign them to the appropriate places.  These would, in turn, begin the process of trying to shoot as many down as possible.  
	The controller looked at his screen.  There were so many.  He wondered how many would make it through. Where they would hit.  He worked furiously, his fingers flying over the keyboard.  Each dot that was reassigned would disappear from his screen.  He started to feel like he was making a dent, when all of the sudden a whole barrage of new dots appeared.  He stopped.  These dots had different coordinates than the first set.  Different angles.  What were these?  He rang his superior and waited.  The superior came right over and saw the screen.
	“These are brand new?” he asked.
	“Yes sir.  I was almost finished with the others when these just appeared.”
	The superior took over the work station and entered a few codes on the screen.  He paused, and re-entered the codes again.  After that appeared to confirm what he found out the first time, he got up and went to a nearby phone on the wall.	
	He picked it up and said, “Yes.....yes....lavender fan....yes...new birds in the air...no, not there...China.”  And he hung up the phone.

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	The Vice President found out about the news the same time his boss did.  He was on a video conference call with the President when the call came in.  
	Full Nuclear Launch by Russia.  Not A Drill!  We are working to shoot down as many as possible.  Waiting for Presidential Authorization for a Nuclear Response.  
	The authorization was quickly given.  Since many of Russia’s missiles would be coming over the North Pole and over Canada, the US was going to try and vaporize them by using a nuclear blast high up in the atmosphere.  The ones that would be taken out over Canadian territory would most likely result in radiation downfall but hopefully an apology and a lot of money would go a long way to easing the tempers of their northern neighbors.
	While the counter-attack was being prepared, a new message came in.  
	Nuclear Launch by China.  Not A Drill! At this time it is not believed that they are utilizing their full arsenal.  We have estimated that half of their nuclear capabilities have been deployed.  Whereas Russian missiles are heading towards many Cold War targets including US, Europe, the Middle East, and one or two points in South America...all the Chinese missiles are heading directly toward the US mainland.  
	“The Chinese are trying to take full advantage of the situation.” the President said.  “They want to help Russia deliver a knock-out blow.”
	“Send this new info to the Nuclear Response team at NORAD so they can reconfigure some of our weapons to respond to this new development.” the VP said to the video phone.
	“Yes sir.” said the NORAD commander who was in on the call.
	“So the Chinese are only using half their arsenal?” the President said.  “I think this shows what many of the “countries of opportunity” might be thinking.  Wait until the main show is over, see what is left, and destroy it.”
	Many on the video screen and in the room nodded in agreement.
	“This will not stand.  Tell NORAD that we do a full thermonuclear strike on every possible target we have configured in our systems.  I don’t want to go through this and then have another country attack us three days later.”	
	“Yes sir.” came the response from the NORAD commander.  
	“Also,” said the President.  “I think it may be time we get to the bunker.”
	That was true.  They did not have long to get to their underground positions.  They should be safe from the attack in there.  	“Also,” the President continued.  “It’s probably time we roll the Doomsday Tapes.”
___________________
	In a different part of NORAD, the man sat at his computer screen.  He was in charge of all the airwaves in the United States.  At any given time, he knew exactly what station was broadcasting what program, where the signal came from, and how many units were receiving that signal.  If need be, he could tell you exactly how many television sets were tuned into NBC at 9:45 last night.  The Nielsen people would kill for this kind of information.  Now he was about to do something that had never been done, that he hoped he would never have to do.  From his computer, he was going to disable every single airwave in the country and replace it with one.  This one would go to every single television set that was turned on.  It did not matter what channel it was on or anything, everyone would receive the exact same message.  Of course, it was illegal to do this, but in the next few minutes when the bombs began to detonate, law would become a thing of the past.  
	He had the file saved on his computer simply under the name “Doomsday Tape”.  He liked the sound of it and it was pretty self-explanatory.  This message had been created in the early 1950s.  It was simply a way of telling the general public that they were under massive attack.  As the Cold War progressed, it was almost used a few times.  But the final button had never been pressed.  There had been debates over whether such a message should be given to the public.  Would it create chaos and mayhem if the people knew that they only had minutes left in their lives?  But in the end, it was decided to go ahead with the message should it ever become necessary.  It was only fair to give a warning just in case some people were able to escape or make preparations in that short of a time span.  
	The man put in many codes and passwords into the computer.  He finally got to screen where he had to confirm five times that this is what he wanted to do.  He did that and then pressed Enter.  With that, all radio and television towers across the country ceases broadcasting their signal.  The man clicked on Doomsday Tape and pressed Enter.  Just a few seconds later, radio and televisions came back to life with the message.

WARNING
This is not a test.  You are seeing this message because a nuclear attack is in progress.  In approximately ten minutes, enemy bombers and missiles will be reaching their destinations.  If you live within the vicinity of any major metroplex, you are advised to take cover immediately.  More instructions will be given at the next available time.  Good luck to you.

	A generic male voice would repeat this message again and again until the television lost power and a bright flash was seen towards the downtown area or whatever other target had been selected..				
	The man turned on the TV by his desk just to make sure.  When he was satisfied, he left his office.  He decided that he may go kill someone before all hell broke loose.

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	“Give me an estimate of how many of our cities will be hit.” the VP said.  He had been briefed on these numbers before but wanted to be absolutely certain he had the latest information.
	“Sir, there is no need to estimate, I can give you an exact count.” the General said.  “The Russian missiles will affect 313 cities initially.  All major metroplexes obviously, then cities and towns where we have military bases or missile silos.  We are not sure if the Chinese have coordinated their attack with the Russians, but nevertheless, we are going to assume that they will not hit the same major targets as Russia.  It would be a waste of their missiles to do so.  Taking that into consideration, we are projecting that China will be hitting many secondary targets and smaller population centers.  They have launched 38 long range missiles at us so we calculate that 21 will make it to their intended target.  This means that someone does not have to live near a big city or a base to be a target in this attack.”
	“How long do we have before the bombs begin to go off?” the VP asked.
	“Sir, the first wave will be within our range of attempting to take them out in the next 17 minutes.  The ones that get through our attempts will reach their destination 9 minutes after that.”

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	Hannah saw the message on the televison.  At first she thought it was part of a show but when she changed channels, it was on all of them.  She started to get scared.  Was this real?  What is going on?  She picked up the phone.  Who was she about to call?  Her mother?  She had just assured her that she was fine, that everything was going to be okay.  It was only recently that she started talking to her mother again.  She hadn’t called her in a long time before a few days ago.  Not since...  She looked back over at the TV.  WARNING.  She dialed the number but got a busy signal.  She tried calling a friend, busy signal.  She tried a few more people including her own cell phone but got a busy signal every time.  A nuclear attack is in progress...
	Hannah decided to leave.  She grabbed her gym bag which she had previously packed with a few clothes and toiletries.  
	“Jimminy!” she called out.  She heard a quick meow and Jimminy came running around the corner.  She grabbed him and put him in the cat carrier.  He glared at her through his miniature jail cell like she was the cruelest person on earth.  If you only knew, she thought.  She grabbed the carrier and her bag and left her apartment.  There were many people in the hallways doing the exact same thing.  People she saw everyday just ran by her without saying a word.  Some bumped into her almost knocking her to the ground.  
	She made her way down to the third level of the parking garage and towards her car.  The level of the garage she was on was fairly empty by now.  These people must have taken off quickly.  She began to panic a little.  Maybe she waited too long.  She should have left sooner.  Hannah started to run to her car.  Her car.  Where was it?  She got to the space where she swore she had parked it last night.  But, nothing was there but an empty spot.  She stopped and looked around.  There were only five or six other cars on the whole level.  Hers was not one of them.  Maybe she was mistaken.  Maybe she parked on the second level instead of the third.  She had a few drinks last night and might have forgotten exactly where she had parked.  But then it came to her.  She had parked on this level.  Her stupid little song she was singing last night came back to her.  She meant to go to the bathroom before she left the bar she was at last night but decided she could hold it until she got home.  Her hatred of public bathrooms caused her to make this decision.  And sure enough, by the time she got to the parking garage, her bladder was about to burst.  To take her mind off it temporarily she begin to sing a song while she was parking on the third level of the garage.  
	I need to pee and I’m parked on three.
	I’m parked on three and I need to pee.
	So Hannah knew for a fact that she had parked in this very space last night.  She then noticed a few pieces of glass around the spot.  Her fears were confirmed.  She threw down her bag in anger and frustration.
	“Shit!” she said to the empty garage.  What was she going to do now?  What could she do now?  She put the cat carrier down and Jimminy meowed in protest of his incarceration.  
	Don’t cry, she told herself.  Do not break down right now, you need to be strong.  You will have to be strong to get through this.  Hannah had always thought of herself as a strong person.  When she first moved into these apartments following college graduation, her parents had some reservations about it.  Single girl in a big city, they said, it could be dangerous.  She loved them both but had to gently remind them that she wasn’t stupid.  She knew what was safe and what wasn’t.  It wasn’t like she was going to go wander the streets at three in the morning or anything.  She had also made quite a few friends in her apartment complex since moving in.  
	Friends.
	Hannah pulled herself together.  That’s what she’d do.  Find one of her friends in the building and get a ride with them.  Surely that had not all left by now.				“Come on Jimms!” she said, picking up the carrier.  “Let’s go hitch a ride.”

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	The highway was a mess.  It was exactly as you saw in the movies, horns blaring, people yelling, waving their fists out of the car window.  Adam glanced over at Brian who seemed very tense and frightened by the scene around them.  Adam gave Brian’s arm a little punch, a brotherly love tap, and smiled at him.  
	“Hey, don’t worry.  We’ll get through this.” Adam said.  Brian nodded back and then turned back to the window to gaze out of it.
	“Damn son of a bitch!” their dad exclaimed from the driver’s seat.  “Didn’t even look when he changed lanes!”
	Their mom turned around and faced them in the backseat.  “Boys, it’s going to take us a little while longer to get to grandma’s place.  Please try to just sit still and not listen to your father.”
	“Mom, he’s not saying anything new.  Plus, I think it’s understandable given the circumstances.” Adam said as he waved towards the traffic around them.  His mom nodded and turned back around in her seat.  
	Every now and then the traffic would begin to move at a reasonable rate of speed.  But right when you thought you were in the clear, it would come to a stand-still again.  After about an hour of this, their mom said, “Well at least we’re far enough away from the city now.  We won’t be killed immediately by the bomb.”
	Their dad glanced over at her and then focused again on the road.  “We’ll be fine.  We’ll have a good time at your grandmother’s.  She can’t wait to see you boys.”
	Adam wondered how long they would stay there.  He loved his grandma but her house had that old person smell to it and there was really nothing to do there.  They used to bring their bikes with them when they came to visit.  They would ride all over her neighborhood and set up ramps with old boards they would find around her shed.  She also used to have an old football he and Brian would throw around.  Adam wondered if she still had it.  That thing was ancient when he was ten years old so it had to be falling apart by now.
	Adam was jolted out of his thoughts by his father slamming on the brakes.  Another traffic jam.  The whole road was one big traffic jam.				
	All of the sudden, Brian let out a gasp.  “The glove!” he blurted out.
	“What?” his mother asked, turning around in her seat.
	“The glove!  I forgot it.  I forgot to get it out of the house when we left!”
	His mother looked at their father.  “Honey, don’t worry about it.  We will get it another time.”
	“No!  It will be destroyed by the bomb!  I have to get it!” Brian yelled.
	“Look, we’ll get another one.” Adam tried to assure him, knowing full well that there was no replacing the one Brian had.
	“I can’t let it be destroyed!  I have to get it!”  And with that, Brian tore off his seat belt, threw open the car door, and jumped out of the car.
	“Brian!” his dad yelled.
	Brian had started to run back the way they had come from.  Their dad started to take his seat belt off.
	“Dad, wait.” Adam said.  Something was telling him to go back.  Was it fate or something else?  “I’ll go get him.”
	“Adam, I can’t just pull the car over, there’s nowhere to stop.”
	“Keep going.  I’ll go get Brian and catch up with you guys down the road.  We’ll just meet you at grandma’s if necessary.”
	His mom grabbed his backpack that was sitting in the backseat and put some bottles of water they had in a cooler in it.  She also put a few snacks in there that they had brought with them.  Then she began to cry.  “Please go get him.  Please get him before the explosion.”
	“I will.  I have to go now though before he gets any further away.” Adam said as he grabbed the backpack, stepped out of the car and into the sea of honking horns.  He looked at his parents.
	“I love you.”  Adam said before he took off running back toward the downtown area.					

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	Hannah had walked through all five levels of the parking garage before she finally found somebody she knew.  It was Lisa and her boyfriend Aaron.  She had met Lisa through a co-worker and while they weren’t best friends, they would see each other around the building and out at various bars occasionally.  The only thing she knew about Aaron, and she could not remember why she knew this, was that he was really big into flag-football. He was almost thirty years old so she found this a little odd, but nonetheless wouldn’t let that stop her from asking them for a ride.
	“Hi guys.” she said as she got close to them.  
	They were loading an awful lot of suitcases and clothes into their car and to Hannah’s horror, it looked like it was completely full.  
	Lisa turned around and gave her a slight smile.  “Hi Hannah.  We’re finally getting the last of our stuff into the car and are about to head off.  What are you doing?  Why haven’t you left yet?”
	“Well that’s the thing.  I went to leave and found out that somebody stole my car.  So now, I’m kind of stuck.”
	Aaron stopped trying to jam one last bag into the trunk and looked up at her.  His look told Hannah what she needed to know.  
	“If there is any way I can get a ride out with you guys, I would really appreciate it.” she said.
	Lisa looked over at Aaron who had gone back to getting that bag into the trunk.
	“Look Hannah, our car is pretty full and I don’t thing we have an extra inch anywhere in it.  I’m sorry but we just can’t.”
	“How about if I pay you for whatever you have to leave so I can fit in there?” Hannah asked.
	“I just don’t think....I don’t think we can do that.” Lisa said, trailing off.  “I’m sorry.”
	“Please.  You know what, I’ll even leave my bag here.  It will just be me and my cat here.”  She held up the carrier and Jimminy just licked his lips at Lisa.
	Aaron shut the trunk and opened the driver’s side door to get in.  “Hannah, we really don’t have room and we don’t have time to unpack stuff to make room for you.  We got all our stuff we are going to need and just can’t afford to leave any of it.  You know, I’m not trying to sound like an asshole but that’s just how it is.  I’m sorry.  Get in the car Lisa.” Aaron got in and shut the door.
	Lisa gave her one last “sorry” but did not look her in the eyes.  She got in the car, shut the door, and off they drove.  Hannah just stood there for a bit, holding her gym bag and cat carrier.  Once again she felt the tears coming.  She heard the screeching of tires and saw Lisa and Aaron’s car coming back towards her.  Oh thank God!  They’ve found some compassion in themselves.  Their car drove up beside her and Lisa rolled her window down.
	“Look, we still can’t give you a lift, but we have a bike you can have.”  Lisa tossed her a key.  “Here’s a key to our front door.  The bike is on the balcony.  It’s real fast and it will at least get you out of the area.”  The key hit Hannah in the chest and fell to the ground.  By the time she bent down to pick it up, the car had already left.  
	A bike.
	This really didn’t do much to alleviate her anger and them but right now she had little time to be angry.  She needed to move.  She picked her stuff up and made her way to Lisa and Aaron’s apartment.  On the way there she tried asking various people for a ride but was largely ignored.  This lack of compassion really hurt Hannah.  She hoped that had she been in their position, she would have helped the poor girl with the cat rather than turn her back on them.  She finally made it to their apartment and let herself in.
	As she made her way to the balcony, all she could think about was that she liked the layout of their place better than hers.  What a strange thing to be thinking about right now, she thought.  It was weird how the most insignificant things could come into your mind during a crisis.  She opened the door to the balcony and saw the bike.  It was leaning against a wall and looked to be in good shape.  The entire thing was black, down to the handlebars and seat.  It looked very sleek, like it was built for speed rather than a trek through the mountains.  She placed her bag and carrier down, went out to the balcony, and brought the bike inside.  It was much lighter than she thought it was going to be.  She took it to the hallway outside the apartment and took a quick test ride to the end of it and back.  It was perfect.  She could not remember the last time she was on a bike but it was very easy to control.  She imagined that she would be able to get out of the city very quickly on it because it was as fast as Lisa said it was.  She wheeled the bike back into the apartment.
	“Well, Jimms, are you ready for a little ride?” she asked.  She got a loud meow in response.  She put her bag over the right handlebar of the bike and the cat carrier over the left
	Immediately she knew she had a problem.  The carrier was so heavy that it was putting a significant pull on that side of the bike.  She knew the carrier wasn’t light but her adrenaline must have been going this entire time and she had not really noticed its weight.  But now, she was having a problem even holding the bike upright with the carrier on it.  Maybe once she got going on it, the weight would not be an issue.  Hannah decided to try another test run in the hallway outside.  
She struggled to get the bike out there and the second she took her feet off the ground and began to peddle, the bike toppled over to the left.  She let out a short scream as she fell to the ground but quickly recovered and made sure that Jimminy was all right.  He had been thrown around a bit in his cage but seemed fine.  She got up and tried again but with the same result.  This time she scraped up her arm pretty good and Jimminy let out low moans after the spill.  
	This wasn’t going to work, she decided.  She could not ride the bike out of here with that carrier on it.  
	Maybe if she held Jimminy in her arms while she rode.  That would take the weight of the carrier off the bike and she would be able to control it then.  She started to take Jimminy out of his cage but he hissed and tried to bite her.  She tried again and he took a swipe at her scraped arm.  It was clear that he was not going to let her touch him, much less carry him on a wild ride out of the city.  She glanced at Lisa and Aaron’s kitchen clock.  It was almost time.  In fact, it could happen at any moment.  Maybe she could leave Jimminy here and come back for him later.  But...she knew what his fate would be if she left him.  Either a quick death in the initial blast or a slow death by starvation or radiation sickness.  Hannah started to cry.  She had gotten him when he was just a kitten.  A lot of times, he had been her only companion.  He knew all her secrets and the songs she sang in the shower.  Her probably knew her better than anybody else.  She looked back at the clock.  Time was up.  If she could not take him with her, she sure wasn’t going to make him go through the hell that was going to be the aftermath of this attack.  
	She picked up the carrier and took it into the bathroom.  She cried as she did this.  She cried as she filled up the tub with warm water.  She cried as she took Jimminy out of the cage, biting and hissing.  She cried as she held him under the water.  She did not watch this part.  There was no way she could watch this part.  She wondered how she was even capable of doing such a thing, but kept telling herself that this was being done out of love and mercy in some way that she might not ever understand.  
	Finally the struggling stopped.  She held down for a bit longer, just to make sure, and then she left the bathroom.  The tears had stopped, replaced by numbness and anger.  Anger at all of this.  She put her bag on the bike, walked it down to the street level, and rode away.

								

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	Marc was putting his tie on and hating every second of it.  This was his week to work late which meant he couldn’t get to the office until later in the morning.  The company kept a strict watch on overtime these days.  He was used to leaving the house before Alice did but on weeks like this, all he could do is take his time in the morning.  Slow down the routine so he didn’t just end up sitting around waiting for it to be late enough to go into the office.  He finished his tie and looked into the mirror.  Great, wonderful.  He looked tired.  He did not necessarily feel tired but his face was telling a different story.  
	He walked down the hall and into the kitchen to find some breakfast.  Marc usually ate a bowl of cereal or a couple of muffins.  He was tired of that too.  Maybe he could stop somewhere on the way to work and grab some donuts or something.  If he did that, he would not have to sit around here for so long waiting to go to work.  That’s what we’ll do, he told himself.  Anything that would lessen the time he had to sit here in silence and think about recent events was for the best.  Marc glanced at the clock and saw that he still had a good twenty minutes at least before he could leave.  He stared a the television.  Why should I turn you on, he thought.  You do nothing but bring bad news to us.  Maybe he could watch part of a movie or something.  Anything to make these twenty minutes pass by quicker.  He turned the television on and knelt down by their movie collection to see what might be interesting this morning.  As the TV came to life, Marc saw out of the corner of his eye that there was a message on it and somebody was talking.  He scooted back from their movies and looked at the screen.  
	WARNING....this is not a test....
	What the hell, Marc thought.  Some guy was repeating the words on the screen over and over.
	An attack is in progress....
	Marc changed channels and saw that they all had this playing.  He scooted back from the televison as though it was attacking him.  He finally came to a stop, his back against the couch.  No way.  No way was this real.  It couldn’t be.  How long had this message been playing?  He slowly stood up.  He wasn’t aware until then that he had begun to sweat.  Marc paced around the living room.  What to do, what to do?  
	He looked out of the living room window.  He did not see panic in the street or people running and yelling.  It was actually a nice, calm day.  The weather forecast for today said it was going to be eighty degrees and sunny.  This is surreal, Marc thought.  But the longer he looked out of the window, the more people he noticed running to their car and throwing suitcases, clothes, etc. into them.  He backed away from the window.  Should he pack some things and go get Alice?  What would he pack?  Where would they go?  Marc felt like he was on the verge of a breakdown so he sat down on the edge of the couch.  Okay, just think for a minute.  Right now, you are far enough away from downtown that you shouldn’t be in too much danger should it be attacked.  So you aren’t in immediate danger.  That calmed him down somewhat.  
	Alice.
	He jumped off the couch.  She would be in immediate danger if an attack were to happen.  She was only a mile and a half from downtown.  The sweat really started to accumulate now.  He started
1toward the bedroom to pack some things.  Forget packing, he told himself.  Go get her and then worry about things you might need.  He did a 180 in the hall and started back towards the front door.  
	Good luck to you, the voice from the TV told him.
	Marc stopped and debated throwing something at it and then the room was filled with a bright flash.

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	Hannah furiously rode the bike down the road, weaving in and out of the traffic which had come to a standstill.  Horns blaring, people yelling.  Hannah tried to ignore it and just concentrate on not getting in a wreck of some kind.  She noticed quite a few other people on bikes, riding them out of the city.  Perhaps they knew that sitting in traffic was not where they wanted to be when the bomb went off.  Hannah peddled faster than she ever thought she could.  She had not ridden a bike in years.  When she was younger, she’d ride all day, doing tricks for her parents.  Riding with just one hand on the handlebars...riding with no hands...doing wheelies.  She was the bike queen back then.  Now she was riding like she was in the Tour de France.  She wondered if this was the only city under attack or if this same scene was being played out across the nation.  Surely this was not an isolated incident.  It wouldn’t make sense for someone to come and attack just one city with a nuclear weapon.  The whole country must be under attack.  But by who?  Were there waves of people with more suitcase nukes in the downtowns of the major cities?  Or was the old Cold War scenario playing out?  Russia was still the only country who would be capable of launching an attack of this magnitude.  But would they?  It had been all over the news that the bombs the terrorists used had been Russian made.  Hannah peddled so fast that her legs were aching.  
	The entire way out of the city had been the same picture over and over.  People yelling at each other.  People trying to get away.  Every so often, there would be an abandoned car in the line of traffic, its occupants finally giving up on getting out in their vehicle.  Some people got out of their cars and tried to move or flip the forsaken car out of the way.  Some just use their car as a battering ram to move it.  Quite a few people were walking or running away from the city.  Their belongings thrown on their back.  
	Hannah finally got to the top of a gradual incline in the road and decided that she needed to take a break for a moment and let her legs get some strength back.  She looked back towards downtown and estimated that she had ridden roughly ten miles or so.  She got off her bike and wheeled it over to a large grassy area off the side of the road where there were a few people sitting and standing around.  She came to a stop beside two guys and a girl who were sitting on a blanket and smoking a joint.  The girl looked up at her and must have seen how sweaty and tired Hannah looked.
	“Do you want some water?” the girl offered.
	“Oh, that would be wonderful.” Hannah replied.  She hadn’t been thinking about it, but she was thirsty.  The girl handed her a bottled water and then accepted the joint from the guy sitting to her left.  After inhaling a couple of times, the girl offered it to Hannah.
	“No thanks.” Hannah said.  “I’m not sure how much further I’m going to have to ride this bike.”
	“Well,” one of the guys said “You’re a safe distance from downtown if you’re worried about the blast.  We couldn’t hang out here forever or anything, but the initial blast won’t reach us here.”
	“Is that why you guys are stopped here?” Hannah asked.
	“Well, that and because this is pretty much a front row seat.  Nobody else has ever had a vantage point like this to watch a city being nuked.” the guy said.
	Hannah looked back towards downtown.  “You mean you’re going to sit and watch this like some kind of a movie?”
	The guy looked up at her.  “A movie?  No, not quite.  This is history.  We have a front row seat to an event that is going to forever alter this planet.  A front row to the beginning of World War Three.”
	The girl offered her the joint again.  Hannah waved it off.  She didn’t know if she wanted to stay and watch or ride away as fast as she could.  A low whistling sound filled her ears that made her decision for her.  It seemed that everything got deathly quiet.  No more car horns, no more yelling.  She looked around and it seemed that everyone was hearing it.  People were getting out of their cars and looking back towards downtown.  All of the sudden, one of the guys stood up and started yelling at everyone, “Don’t look directly at the flash or you’ll go blind!  When the whistling gets louder, turn away!”  
	Hannah just stood there like everyone else.  In shock.  Watching.  The whistling started to grow louder and louder.  The girl took an extra long drag off the joint.  
	“Turn away!  Turn away!” the guy yelled.
	Hannah and everyone else turned away and shielded their face.  Hannah had her face buried deep in her arm, blackness all around.  
	Then...it was like the sun came up suddenly.  Whiteness surrounded her.  Then it began to fade away.  Right about then, the rumblings of the explosion reached all their ears.

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	Marc got up off the floor.  Debris was everywhere.  It was strangely quiet though.  Not even two minutes ago there had been explosions, fire, screams.....but now, nothing.  Maybe everybody else was in shock like he was.  Maybe they were all dead.  Marc looked around the apartment.  It wasn’t as bad as he thought it was going to be.  There were a few broken windows and pictures that had fallen off the wall.  He didn’t see any big cracks in the ceiling or walls only....the television.  The front of the TV had been shattered out and there was glass on the floor in front of it.  A smile formed on Marc’s mouth.  Out of all things to notice after what just took place, he notices the television.  He didn’t know if that was a commentary on him or his way of life but he was sad to see that the TV was a casualty of this disaster.  Marc was checking himself for any injuries when he heard the first cries.  He cautiously made his way to a blown-out window to see if he could tell where they were coming from.  When he looked out the window, he expected to see everything pretty much leveled.  But it wasn’t.  The trees looked like they got the worst of it.  There were a few that were bent and many that looked burnt but that was about it.  No buildings were knocked over, no charred bodies in the street.  Marc made his way out the front door and in the direction of the cries.  Outside was nothing like he had expected.  After hearing his entire life about the effects of all-out nuclear war, when he stepped outside he had been expecting a red, alien sky.  Cars thrown all over the street and on fire.  Ash falling like snow from the sky.  Screams and sirens filling his ears.  But when he stepped outside, he saw the exact opposite.  It was a pleasant day.  It was about eighty degrees and a nice breeze was blowing.  The sky was blue with just a few clouds hovering about.  Aside from the trees and grass being partially burnt, if somebody just looked around, they may not know that anything had happened.  That is, as long as they didn’t look in the direction of downtown.  When Marc looked that way, he just saw an orange sky and smoke.  It was almost mesmerizing.  The orange glow didn’t grow in size or shrink...it just stayed the same.  Sitting directly over the city.  
	Marc kept making his way toward the cries and came upon a disturbing scene.  There was a woman sitting on the sidewalk holding her head, crying, and several men standing around her who would talk, then turn their attention to her, then resume their talking.
	As Marc walked up he heard, “...a hospital?  You think any hospitals around here still have power and could do something for her?”
	The woman removed her hand from her forehead to reveal a large shard of glass sticking out of it.  Blood was streaming down her face and had soaked the cement beside her.  
	“Well we can’t just yank it out!” one of the men said wildly.  “That thing might be stuck in her brain or something.”
	All the men noticed Marc at about the same time as he came up to them.
	“Hey, you don’t happen to be a doctor do you?” one of the asked.
	“No, I guess it doesn’t matter what happened, but.....what happened?” Marc asked.
	“I was walking by the apartments,” the woman began.  Everybody turned and looked her way.  “Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a bright flash that got bigger and bigger.  I turned to look in the direction of it and heard a big boom, then this window here,” she pointed at a broken window in one of the apartments, “blew out and into my face.”
	“We’ve been trying to figure out what to do.” one of the men said.  “We thought that the explosion probably knocked out electricity to everything around here.  The only saving grace of this thing is that we were far enough away from the explosion so that it wasn’t as destructive here.”
	“Yeah, since we’re a good seven or eight miles from the city, we didn’t get blown to bits.  The only thing we have to worry about now is the radiation and looters.”  another one of the guys continued.
	“Will you stop!!”  One of the men who had been pacing back and forth during all of this finally yelled.  “My wife is bleeding to death and we need help!”
	All the men nodded and resumed their conversation of how to best help the poor woman.
	Wife.  Wife.  Marc suddenly felt nauseous.  In trying to figure out what was going on, he had completely forgot about Alice.  Marc headed to his car.

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	“Brian!” Adam called out.  He had finally spotted his brother walking on the grass about twenty feet off of the highway.  Brian turned around and saw him.  
	“I’m not going back!” he told Adam.
	“I’m not here to take you back.” Adam said as he caught up with him.  “I came to help you out.”  He looked at Brian.  He looked dirty already even though he really had not walked that far.  His red shirt was slightly torn on the sleeve and his pants were very worn.  His dark hair sat like a curly mop on his head, probably had not been washed in a couple of days.  
	“You mean you’re not going to throw me over your shoulder and carry me back to the car?” Brian asked.
	Adam laughed.  “Sure, that’s what I ran out here to do.  You’re getting too big to pick up anyway.”
	The boys kept walking back towards their house.  
	“It’s just that...I couldn’t take it if that glove got destroyed or stolen.  I feel like I would be letting him down.”
	“Well, I think out house is far enough away that it won’t be destroyed, but I know what you mean.”
	Brian started to cry.  Adam stopped walking, gently grabbed Brian’s shirt, and wrapped his arms around him.  He didn’t know what else to say but “I know”.
	Brian’s tears didn’t last very long.  He wiped his eyes off on his shirt.  “At least I’m not crying as much these days.”  
	Adam nodded.  
	“It doesn’t matter how much time passes...it still hurts.  I can’t imagine it not hurting, you know.” Brian said.
	Up until last year, Brian had a best friend named Seth.  They had grown up together and played all the time.  Seth had been a huge baseball fan and had gotten Brian into it as well.  They went to major league baseball games, played Pee Wee baseball, then Little League.  Even when they didn’t have a game or practice to attend, they would toss the ball around at one of their yards.  Seth had always used the same, ratty, worn out glove as long as Adam could remember.  Seth’s parents just didn’t have the money to buy him a brand new one so Seth decided that the glove he had was the best one in the world.  Adam didn’t know if Seth really believed that or if he just didn’t want to make his parents feel bad.  Adam’s parents had even tried to give Seth a new glove for his birthday before and he always politely thanked them but turned it down.  Then out of nowhere last summer, Seth had been riding his bike in town and veered off the sidewalk into the road.  A truck had been coming down the road, not speeding, not intoxicated, and hit Seth.  He spent a couple of antagonizing minutes on the concrete before dying.  A few days after the funeral, Seth’s mom stopped by the house and gave Brian Seth’s glove.  Brian and Seth’s mom had cried in each other’s arms for quite a while.  When she left, Brian put the glove beside his bed, where it stayed to this day.
	Adam messed with Brian’s hair.  “Well come on...enough of this walking business.  If we’re going to save your glove in time, we need to get a move on.”
	Both boys began to jog down the side of the highway, listening to all the cars headed in the opposite direction.  They jogged for a bit, then had to stop to catch their breath.
	“I thought you were still in shape.” Brian said.
	“Right...well, that’s what you get for thinking.” Adam replied, putting his hands behind his head so he could breathe easier.  In between breaths, he heard a faint whistling sound.  Brian must have heard it at the same time because he looked over at him.  Adam looked back.  The whistling started to get louder.
	Brian took off running full speed in the direction of their house and downtown.  Adam didn’t have time to yell so he took off after him.  The whistling grew louder and louder.  Adam finally caught up to Brian and tackled him to the ground.  Brian fought to get away but Adam held him tight and covered his eyes.  
	“Stop it!” Adam yelled at him.  
	Then whiteness engulfed them both.

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	From their bunker, they watched it all.  They witnessed The Beginning or The End, however you wanted to label it.  Just about every major city on the planet, gone.  New York, Sydney, Toronto, Riyadh, Tokyo, London, Madrid, Dallas, Auckland, Tehran, Rome, Moscow, Beijing, Los Angeles...gone.  They had watched the bombs explode and give way to an ominous tomorrow.  They wondered why they couldn’t have been more like their fathers and prevented this from happening.  Berlin, Jerusalem, Baghdad, Chicago, Seoul, Washington D.C., Pyongyang, Mexico City, Ottawa...gone.
	Were they not smart enough or was this just a natural course of events that all civilizations went through?  Either way, they decided, all was different now.
	There were images that could not quickly be erased.  A businessman in the middle of Times Square, chaos all around him.  He sees the missile approaching.  He stares at it without an almost perplexed look on his face.  As it gets closer he drops his briefcase.  It hits the street with a light thud, all the papers inside jostling about.  He stretches his arms out in a Christ-like pose and waits for the annihilation.
	A small girl in a town on the outskirts of Toronto also sees a missile.  She sees it streaking across the sky in the distance.  She holds her hand up to the sky, right in front of it.  “Stop.” she whispers.  “Please stop.”  It’s so small compared to her hand.  Something so small racing to deliver death to them all.  She was unable to stop the missile.

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	Hannah couldn’t stop staring at the scene before her.  Pretty much all of the other people who had witnessed the destruction of the city with her had left.  They were anxious to get as far away as possible from any lawlessness or anarchy that might occur around the area.  But Hannah couldn’t move.  She was sitting on the grass, her arms pulling her legs into her chest.  Just staring.  
	When the blast had initially occurred, there was the bright flash and noise that everyone expected.  But once it was safe to look back towards the city they saw how a nuclear weapon goes to work on a major city.  There was a large ball of light over downtown and it was sucking the earth underneath it up into the air.  This included the ground, trees, and parts of the skyscrapers.  As it grew bigger, a fire tornado whipped through everything on the ground within a good twenty mile space.  While this was going on, it looked like the entire city was being cooked.  Literally cooked.  Buildings were melting to the ground.  The ground was sizzling.  And the sound even made its way to where Hannah and everyone was observing.  Almost like the sound of bacon being fried.  And it was hot too.  For a bit, Hannah wondered if they should move back away from the heat but it slowly pulled back.  
	The mushroom cloud was still there.  Sitting on the former city in all its smokey hideousness.  Any structure that was still standing was on fire and she saw no movement of people anywhere.  At this moment, she knew she had done the right thing for Jimminy.  Spared him from this ugliness.  
	Hannah got up off the ground and got back on her bike.  The people’s words about lawlessness were starting to register with her.  How would people react?  If they started acting crazy would it be because of the bomb or did they just have that in them all along and now had an excuse to unleash it in a consequence-free environment?  As she started riding the bike along the road she realized something else.  If all of this behavior started, she would have to face a serious fact.  She was a young attractive female traveling all alone on a bike.  She had no type of weapon with her whatsoever.  It was just her, her bag, and a bike.  She at least had a destination in mind but it was no short trip, even by car.  She would probably have to ride for several days and nights to reach her mother’s house.  
	In her best-case scenario, Hannah would ride non-stop, aside from minor breaks here and there to rest, to her mom’s place.  She had enough food and water for a few days.  She would make it to the house low on food and more tired than she had ever been in her life, but she would be there.
	Other scenarios that Hannah didn’t really want to imagine involved her running into gangs of people committing crimes for no reason.  
	As she rode her bike down the road, thinking of all this, she passed a car on the side of the road.  It was a little rest stop that had a couple of picnic tables and a barbeque pit that people could use.  Sitting at one of the tables was a family of four.  They had spread a picnic blanket out over the table and were having a lunch of sandwiches.  The mother and father were busy pouring punch into the cups and opening the bags of chips.  The two kids kept asking if they could go play in a small area beside the table.  As Hannah rode by slowly, the father looked up at her with a somewhat concerned look on his face.  Then he waved.  Hannah waved back and the bike wobbled as she took her hand off the handlebars.  She straightened the bike out and saw the man smiling.  She gave a goofy “I’m clumsy” smile back and rode on.
	Then it hit her.  She had imagined, while sitting there watching the downtown, that after the attack, people would instantly be crazy and insane and form these groups of post-apocalyptic gangs whose clothes were all dirty and burned a little bit.  But seeing that family brought her back to reality.  There might be people who behave differently now but it won’t be in this science-fiction way that she had envisioned.  It would be regular looking people.  She would just have to be careful.      		

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	Once most of the noise had settled down, Adam decided to poke his head up.  He was laying on top of Brian at the bottom of a shallow ditch, his arms wrapped tightly around him.  Adam hadn’t played any form of football since 7thgrade but thought he gave Brian a pretty good tackle to get him on the ground when the bomb went off.  
	Adam looked around and saw that the people who were still in their cars on the highway were looking towards downtown with awe on their faces.  Most people had gotten out of their car and were staring at the bomb’s aftermath, almost entranced. There were no more honking of horns or yelling...just shock that the unthinkable just happened.
	Adam looked in the direction of downtown and saw the ominous mushroom cloud rising over the city.  The only other thing you could see was smoke.  The cloud kept rising and rising until it came to its climax.  And there it sat for what seemed like forever.
	Adam got off of Brian and shook his shoulder.
	“Come on.  We need to get going now.  Before people start losing their mind.”
	But Brian didn’t move.
	“Brian.” Adam said, nudging him again.  “What’s wrong?”
	Nothing.
	Adam turned him over so he was on his back and saw that Brian had a huge gash in his forehead.  Adam looked at where Brian’s head was and saw the culprit.   There was a sizeable piece of concrete about the size of a football sticking out of the ground where he had been.  Adam cursed himself.  When he tackled his brother, he tackled him headfirst into a damn rock.  Brian had blood dripping down his face from the wound.  Adam wiped the blood away with the sleeve of his shirt and checked Brian’s pulse.  He was relieved to find that Brian still had one.  Adam unzipped his backpack and pulled a bottle of water from it.  He opened it and poured some water on Brian’s face.  Brian immediately popped to life.
	“What...what...”  Brian stuttered.
	“Take it easy.” Adam said.  “You sliced your head pretty good.”
	Brian sat up and looked around.  He saw the mushroom cloud and looked back at Adam, fearful.
	“Hey, we’re still here.  Mom and Dad are fine too.  Let’s get you up and see if you’re really all right.”
	Adam helped him up and although his legs were somewhat rubbery at first, he quickly stood on his own.  Brian took a t-shirt from his backpack and tied it around his forehead, covering the cut.  
	“There.  Now I look like a survivor!” he said.  
	“Heh, we may need more than that to get us through this.” Adam replied.
	The boys grabbed their backpacks and started walking again, the mushroom cloud providing a backdrop to their journey.

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	Marc got in his car and turned the key.  He was somewhat surprised when it started.  He was worried that the electromagnetic pulse from the bomb might have knocked the circuitry out.  He reversed out of the parking spot and then peeled out of the complex.  As he was getting on the highway, Marc had to smile to himself.  The lanes going from downtown were packed with cars and people while the lanes going to downtown were completely empty.  He would be the only one going towards the chaos.  
	But that smile quickly pulled back when he thought of Alice.  Her school was so close to downtown...  But maybe they received the warning soon enough to evacuate.  Surely that message had been broadcast over tv, radio, and any other media that was available.  Someone in that school must have heard it and gotten everyone out of the way of the bomb.  Alice and all those kids might just be in the basement of some building right now, wondering what was going on above them.  Marc could picture them all, huddled together, kids crying, Alice trying to put on a brave face for all of them.  He pressed down on the gas pedal even harder, zooming towards downtown.  
	Alice’s school was on the outskirts of the main downtown area so Marc wouldn’t be going directly into the heart of the madness.  Still, he knew that he was going to get a healthy dose of radiation just by being in the vicinity of the blast.  He didn’t care.  Couldn’t care less.  He could not leave his wife to fend for herself near ground zero.  

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	Adam and Brian were walking in what looked to be a prairie from the old west.  There was still patches of grass left.  Other places looked like they had been scorched.  Lots of bare earth and sand was now showing.  
	“It’s hot!” Brian said because there was not much else to say.  Adam pulled a bottle of water from his backpack and tossed it over to Brian.  Brian opened the bottle and poured half the bottle over his head.  
	“Careful.” Adam said.  “We may need that to drink later on, don’t waste it.”
	“What do you think it will look like?” Brian asked suddenly, looking up at Adam.
	“What will what look like?” Adam asked back, knowing exactly what Brian meant.
	“The city.  Will there be anything left?  Do you think our house will still be there?”
	“I think our house will be fine.  No electricity, but the house itself will be fine.  Downtown...I don’t know.  I’m sure it took a straight hit, so....I don’t know.”
	The boys continued to walk.  It was very quiet outside.  They did not say much.  Just walked and sweated.  They eventually came upon a decent sized hill in front of them.  An odd smell came from behind the hill.  A stale, burning smell.  They heard the occasional little explosion and heard fire burning.  
	Adam looked over at Brian.  “Downtown must be behind this hill.”
	Brian nodded.  For the first time today, Adam saw that Brian looked scared.  The prospect of a nuclear weapon detonating near them had not phased him but faced with seeing the aftermath had.    The boys started walking up the hill.  It was a decent journey up, both boys were out of breath when they reached the top.
	Upon reaching the top of the hill, they saw it.  Both were speechless.  Below them and stretching out to the horizon was nothing but ruins.  A city completely destroyed.  They could still see some fires and smoke was coming out of the ground randomly.  You knew that at one time in the not so distant past, a city had been here.  Full of tall buildings, apartments, and people.  But as you scanned the horizon now, you could see that something probably used to be here.  There were no more buildings, not even parts of buildings still standing.  The land was bare and it looked like there was metallic trash scattered all over it.  Couple that with fires and lots of smoke and that’s the image the boys were faced with.  
	Adam lowered himself until he was sitting on the hill.  He placed his backpack beside him on the ground.  Brian joined him.  Neither one said anything, they just looked.  
“How do buildings just disappear like that?” Brian asked finally.
	“They must have been incinerated by the fireball from the bomb.” Adam replied.  “Just burned completely up.”
	“It doesn’t even look real, you know.” Brian said, in awe.
	“Yeah...we need to be careful from here on.  Radiation is going to become a problem.  We need to cover as much of our skin as possible.”
	They looked at each other.  They didn’t have any clothes with them.  Adam grabbed his backpack and rummaged through it.  All he had was a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.  
	“Too bad this didn’t happen during winter.  I might have packed a hooded sweatshirt or something then.”
	“Will we be all right?” Brian asked.
	“I think maybe if we don’t get any closer to downtown than this we will be.  As soon as we can, we need to find something to shield our nose and mouth.  Whenever we reach the house, we can put on some more protective clothing.”
	Brian nodded, “I trust you.”
	Adam laughed quickly, “Well, let’s just hope I’m right.  Radiation poisoning isn’t a pretty thing.”

	“Yeah, I don’t want to lose my hair just yet.  I want to wait a while before I look like dad.” Brian said.
	Adam laughed.  “I know what you mean.”
_________________________
	The boys walked in the direction of downtown until Adam decided that they were close enough.  They needed to get to the north side of the city and then continue north.  Their neighborhood would be several more miles away then.  
	They had been walking for most of the day and were near the north end of downtown when they saw an army vehicle on the road.  It looked like one of those Vietnam-era trucks, camouflage and all.  
	“Come on.” Adam nudged Brian and started to head in the direction of the truck. 
	As they got closer, they saw that there was just one man standing beside the truck, standing guard.  Adam waved as they walked up towards the soldier.  The soldier responded by readying his rifle.  
	“Whoa, whoa!” Adam said, slowing down.  “We’re not here for trouble.”
	“Why are you here?  Where are you going?” the soldier demanded.
	“We’re just trying to get back home.  We’ve been walking for quite a while now.” Adam replied.
	The soldier sized them up and deemed them no threat so he lowered his gun.
	“Are you the only one here?” Adam asked.
	“Yeah.” the soldier sighed.  “We were assigned to protect whatever was left of the city, but once the others saw that there was nothing left to protect, they took off.”
	“Why are you still here then?  I mean, there really isn’t anything left to protect or guard against.” Brian said.
	“I’m here because I gave my word that I’d defend this city against any more attackers.  For all I know there are suicide bombers waiting until all this dies down before they strike again.”
	Adam looked around, mildly amused.
	“Seriously?” he asked.  “Are they going to bomb the few trees that are left?”	
	The soldier didn’t laugh.  “I gave my word.” is all he said.	
	“Fair enough” Adam replied.
	“Oh, here.  I’m supposed to pass these out to any civilians who might still be in the area, but you two are the only ones I’ve seen for a while.” the soldier said as he walked back towards the truck.  After rummaging around for a minute, he produced two surgical masks which were in a small plastic bag.  “Put these on.  Will fight against you inhaling radiation...somewhat.”
	Adam looked over at Brian giving him a “just what I said we needed earlier” look.
	“Thanks.  We were just talking about something like this.” Adam said, taking the two masks.
	He opened the bags and placed one mask over his nose and mouth and handed Brian the other one.
	“You look cute.” the soldier said sarcastically.  
	“Yeah, maybe we’ll meet some girls on the way home.” Adam said, his eyes revealing that he was smiling behind the mask.
	The soldier rolled his eyes.
	“But seriously, thanks.” Adam told him.  “We’ll get going now.”
	The soldier waved.  “Be careful.  Seriously.”

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	Hannah had ridden her bike for miles by now, she thought.  Surely it had been a pretty good distance by now.  She was sweating profusely and her legs were aching.  Hours had past since the explosion.  The road she was traveling down wasn’t too terribly crowded.  It was a two-lane road and far from the major highways around the area so it was possible that most people did not know about it.  There was still a decent flow of cars that had not been disabled by the bomb or its pulse.  There were also a lot of people like her who were on bikes.  These ranged from people riding with just a bag of their belongings hanging from the handlebars to people who appeared to have packed half their house on the back of the bike.  She was amazed how some people were able to stay balanced with all the items they had piled on with them.  They could ride with all that stuff but she couldn’t ride with a measly cat carrier.  Hannah’s eyes began to fill with tears.  There was no way, she told herself.  There was no way she could have ridden with all that weight on one side of the bike.  No way she could have made it out of downtown.  Be strong girl, she kept repeating.  She wiped her face and peddled furiously.  She wanted her legs to ache.  She wanted to be dead tired.  She felt more justified in her actions that way.  
	As she rounded a sharp turn on the road she saw a group of three people on bicycles lazily peddling along.  She got closer and saw it was two guys and a girl.  Once she got even closer, she recognized who they were.
	“Hey!” she called out.
	The threesome turned to see who was yelling at them.  
	“Well...we meet again.” one of the guys said.  It was the three people Hannah had met on the hill right before the explosion.  
	They all four came to a stop on the side of the road.  
	“Sure didn’t expect to see you again.” the girl said.  She looked at the two guys.  “You about ready to take a break?  Our friend here looks like she could sure use one.”
	“Of course.” they both said.
	“Thank you, thank you.  I’ve been riding forever just generally scared and freaked out by everything.”  Hannah said, getting off her bike.
	“Yeah, it’s all pretty bizarre isn’t it?” one of the guys said.
	“I’m just glad to see some familiar faces, even though I don’t know you or anything about you.” Hannah replied.
	“Come on,” the girl said.  “Let’s go sit over there and rehydrate.” She pointed over at some big rocks off the side of the road.				

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	Marc was sitting on the hood of his car.  Legs crossed and chin in his hands.  He had driven as close to the downtown area as he could until he had to stop due to the heat from the bomb and the subsequent fires it caused.  It appeared to be dying down now though.  There was still the giant mushroom cloud sitting over the city.  That certainly didn’t seem to be dying down.  Marc wondered how long it would last.  
	“Somebody came over and grew a mushroom on us.” he said out loud for no reason.  He laughed a short laugh and tried to figure out where that thought came from.  
	Marc got off the car and tried to map out his plan of action.  Since the roads were most likely undriveable right now, he would drive around the outskirts of what used to be downtown and see if he could get anywhere near the exit where Alice’s school was.   Where her school is, he told himself.  We’ll go to the exit where her school is, nothing has happened to it.
	Marc got in his car, started it up, and started to drive again.  He quickly found out that he was right about the roads.  He was not able to go much further until the roads and the land in general was completely a wreck.  Just like if part of the earth had been picked up, thrown in the air, and had landed back wherever it wanted.  A mess of land and twisted steel lay before him.
	“Looks like a bomb went off.” he mused to himself.  He put the car in reverse and backed up for almost half a mile.  Marc saw a dirt road off the side of the service road and decided to create his own exit from the highway and see where it took him.
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	Adam and Brian finally arrived at their house.  It actually didn’t look to be in too bad of shape.  Both boys were tired, legs killing them.  Surprisingly they had not complained that much though.  The goal of reaching the house had kept them quiet.  They had seen groups of people along the way but nobody said anything.  Everyone looked like they were leaving.  Going somewhere.  
	With their surgical masks on, they went inside.  The refrigerator door was open and its shelves were bare, but other than that everything looked fine.  They went into the music room and saw that Adam’s setup was still intact.
	“I want to play something.” Adam said.
	“How?   There’s no electricity.  The EMP from the blast knocked it all out.” Brian responded.  
	Adam stopped, looked over at Brian, and said “Nice, you’ve learned something.”
	Brian just smiled.
	“I had a battery backup for all this stuff in case I was recording something one night and the electricity went out.  It should still work.”
	Adam went over to the back of his keyboard, unplugged and replugged a few wires, and it all came to life.  
	Brian stood amazed.  “What are you going to play?”
	“I’ve had this song in my head for a while.  It’s an instrumental. I think I’ll try that.”
	Adam started the recording device and sat down at the keyboard.  As he began to play, a kind of static could be heard through the speakers in the background of the music.
	“What is that?” Adam asked.  “Maybe my equipment is messed up.”
	“No.” Brian said.  “It’s the radiation in the air.  Your recording equipment is picking it up.  The louder you play, the harder the microphone has to work to pick it up, and the louder the radiation will sound.  So, you are about to play a song that could not have been played at any other point in history.”
	Adam looked at him and then back at the keyboard.  He then started to play.
	It started as a simple piano piece, but the more he played, the more the radiation crackled through the speakers.  Adam flipped a switch and the keyboard made a rising electronic sound.  Adam kept playing...a rising and falling of the notes.  He played over the electronic sound, over the radiation, and for a while he left himself forget his surroundings and play his song.
	Brian watched him.  Actually, transfixed was a better description.  He watched Adam play this beautiful, haunting song while sitting at his arrangement of keyboards and wearing a surgical mask.  He looked like a panting from another time.  Some kind of angel that came down amidst all the chaos and delivered a perfect song to them.  A song that would get them through all of this.  Brian didn’t know if he wanted to cry or applaud the song, or just go over and hug Adam.  He ended up just sitting in a chair near Adam and thinking about everyone else who was out there.  
	His mind started in the big cities.  He could not imagine that there was anything or anybody left around New York or Los Angeles.  If their house had been near either of those places, this moment would not have been possible.  Brian felt like they had somehow been chosen to perform this song for the empty house and themselves.  Nobody else except maybe God.  His mind flew beyond America.  How bad did other countries get it?  He thought that if they had gotten it this bad that surely the rest of the world did also.  He flew all throughout Europe and saw that everyone was suffering.  Some were cursing the ones who started all of this.  Some were cursing the ones who ended it.  Children were dirty from head to toe.  He flew through the Middle East.  It was very quiet in many places.  They had been hit hard.  But here, he didn’t hear the wailing and the curses.  Instead he saw people try to maintain a daily routine.  Trying to persevere.  He flew over Asia and saw lots of fires.  He wondered what became of China.  He had always heard of their million man army.  Were they of any use in a war such as this?  Did they keep the peace afterward?  He came back into the house where Adam was still offering up his song to whomever our there was listening.  Everybody had been hurt.  Nobody had escaped.  Adam’s apocalyptic soundtrack ran through his mind.  He hit the keys louder and louder and made the notes scream.  The radiation rose with them and let out a scream of its own.  The Adam was finished.  He looked over at Brian and didn’t say anything.  Brian looked back.  They maintained eye contact for several seconds.
	“That was good.” Brian said.  “More than good...unbelievable.”
	Adam stared at the keyboard.
	“I wrote that for you...after Seth died.  I never recorded it, just wrote and played it in my head.” Adam finally said.
	“You’ve been thinking of that song for that long?”
	“Yeah.  I just felt so bad for you after his death.  I wasn’t sure how to console you or to tell you stuff would be all right or whatever.  I guess writing that was just my way of dealing with it.”
	Brian sat there for a minute.  “He would have liked it.  Seth would have really liked that song.”
	Adam quickly nodded his head, not knowing what to say.
	“Maybe...”  Brian said.  “That hurt hearing that.  It hurt thinking about him again.  I hadn’t thought about him in a while because of everything that has been going on, but now...I have a bit of quiet time...it still hurts...all of it.  It was just so sudden.”
	Adam wished he could think of something inspirational to tell Brian.  To make him feel that it was all going to be okay.  To stop his little brother’s hurting.  “I know.” again was all that came out of his mouth though.

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	Marc knew immediately that the dirt road had not been a good idea.  First of all, there was a lot of overgrowth as far as bushes and tree tops bending to form some kind of canopy over the road.  This made it fairly dark.  Then the road itself was in terrible shape.  Potholes and deep tire grooves made for a difficult ride.  It was also very narrow.  He had no idea what he would do if another car was coming the other way.  
	Up ahead he saw a house and decided he would stop and see if they could tell him where this road went.  As he pulled into the dirt driveway he hit a ridiculously large pothole.  It was one of those where you are waiting to hear a loud pop from your tire, the hole having taken its life.  
	“Dammit!” he exclaimed.  One more of those and the car would be useless.  Marc put the car in park and turned it off.  The house was an old farmhouse style structure.  Big front porch with rocking chairs on it.  The house had a light blue coat of paint on it but had clearly seen better days.  Marc had not gotten five steps away from the car when the front door of the house swung open and a man with a shotgun pointed at him emerged.  
	“Why are you here?!” the man wanted to know.
	“Whoa, whoa!” Marc put his hands up instinctively.  “I’m not here to mess with you.  I just need directions.”
	“Directions?” the man asked, incredulously.  “I would say drive as fast as possible in the opposite direction of where the bomb went off.  What other directions do you need?”
	“I know, I know...it’s just that my wife works near downtown and I am trying to make my way there to make sure she’s okay.” Marc said.
	“So you’re going back to downtown?” the man asked, with a curious look on his face.
	Marc nodded.
	“How close did your wife work to downtown?”
	“About a mile and a half.”
	The mane gave Marc a “come on now” look.	
	“And you think she survived that do you?”
	“I have to believe that.” Marc replied.  “I have to go find out.  All I want from you is to know where the road out here leads to.  The main highways are destroyed and I want to know if that shitty dirt road out there goes anywhere near where I need to be.”
	The man finally laughed and lowered his gun.  “Well, not that it matters, but no it doesn’t.  It dead-ends about two miles from here.”
	“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” Marc asked.
	“Well, seeing as how I will be taking your car from you...it doesn’t really matter where that shitty dirt road goes.”
	Marc felt the wind being sucked out of him.  He slowly backed towards the car.
	“You can go ahead and stop that.” the man said, raising the gun again.
	“Why?  Why would you do this?  Did I not just tell you I’m trying to find out if my wife is still alive or not?”
	“It’s not really your car I need, it’s the gas inside of it.  You see, my wife and I are about to high-tale it out of here and we just don’t have much fuel to get very far.  I was just sitting inside trying to figure out what we were going to do, and voila, your dumb ass drives into my driveway.”
	“Look, I can give you some of the gas, just don’t take the car.  I need it.” Marc said, getting flustered.
	“Sorry son, I need every drop.  But I’m not a heartless bastard, I will give you two things in return.” the man said.
	“What exactly can you give me?”
	“First off, directions.  I said the road became a dead-end eventually, but there are fields past that.  You tell me where you’re trying to go and I’ll draw up a map so you know how to get there.  And if it’s any condolence, you wouldn’t be able to drive your car there anyway, so I’m doing you a favor.”
	“Right.” Marc replied.  “What’s the second gift you have for me?”
	The man opened the front door and reached into a desk drawer that was right there, never taking his eyes off of Marc the entire time.  He came back out and tossed a handgun to Marc.  To his surprise, Marc caught it.
	“You’ll probably need this at some point.” the man said.
	Marc looked at the gun and then immediately pointed it at the man.
	“That wasn’t very smart.” Marc said.  “How do you know I won’t shoot you now?”
	The man surveyed Marc for a second.  “You won’t.  You’re not the type.”
	Marc waved the gun, trying to look as menacingly as possible.
	“Plus, it’s not loaded.” the man said.  “So quit being a jackass, put the gun down, and come tell me the location of your wife’s school so I can draw that map for you.”
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	Hannah took a long gulp from her water bottle.  “I need to be careful.” she said.  “I don’t think I’m too good at rationing out supplies.”
	The other three laughed.
	“Hey, I know what you mean.” one of the guys said, holding up his near empty bag of weed.  
	“How rude of us!” the girl said suddenly.  “I don’t know your name and you don’t know ours!”
	Hannah laughed.  “You know what, I hadn’t even thought of that.”
	“I’m Gretchen.” the girl said, extending her hand.
	Hannah reached out and shook it.  “I’m Hannah, nice to finally meet you.” she said with a smile.
	“And the two idiots over there are Taylor and Jeremy.” Gretchen said, gesturing towards the two guys.
	“Idiots, huh?” Jeremy said.  He was scruffy and his black hair looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in quite some time.  He had on pretty much all black except for his khaki hiking boots that stuck out.  
	“How do you all know each other?  Friends, family?” Hannah asked.
	“We’re friends.” Taylor replied.  He had a surfer look to him.  Dirty blond hair that was wasn’t long but was getting there.  He was dressed in what Hannah could only describe as being hippyish, if that was even a word.  He had loose fitting jeans on, two t-shirts, and a bunch of thin, leather necklaces and bracelets.  
	Gretchen was a mix of the two it seemed.  Maybe a dark hippy look or a not-quite-goth gothic.  Either way, Hannah immediately felt accepted by the group and for that she was thankful.
	“So how did you guys end up out here.  I mean, where are your families if you don’t mind me asking.” Hannah inquired.
	“Well...we all sort of saw this as our chance to start over.” Jeremy answered.  “I mean, we all have families, good ones.  But they’re going to spend the rest of their life scared and wondering when death is going to come.  We’re not going to live like that.”
	“Ever since the suicide bombings in Seattle and Miami, you knew that today would come at some point.”  Gretchen said.  “It was just a matter of time.  We all decided that when today finally came, we would leave together.  We wouldn’t just lay down and die.  We would ride around this state, around this country and see something for once in our lives.  We’ve been so sheltered, you know.  People all over the world hate us and we’re never given a straight answer why.  It’s because of our foreign policy, it’s because we’re the only superpower left, it’s because of this or that.  I’m sick of hearing about that shit and I’m sick of worrying about it.”
	“Our parents’ generation, the ones running things right now have messed everything up for everyone after them.  A lot of them are getting older and are saying screw the consequences; I won’t be around to see them.  Let’s do whatever we want and let our children deal with the fallout.” Jeremy said.  “Hey, I actually wrote a little verse along those lines.  Do you want to read it?”
	Hannah wasn’t sure what to say but wasn’t given a chance to say yes or no.
	  Jeremy rummaged around in his backpack and pulled out a journal book that was very similar to the one Hannah had.  He flipped it open to a certain page and thrust it into Hannah’s lap.  

	We see the fin in the water
	but do not do anything
	We hope that the consequence of being where we shouldn’t
	will come to fruition long after our death
	Long enough so that we don’t get the blame

	“Not bad.” Hannah said.  “I actually write some poetry now and then as well...”
	“Or what if,” Taylor could contain himself no longer.  “What if these bombs weren’t from another country?”
	Gretchen and Jeremy rolled their eyes.
	“Here comes Mr. Conspiracy.” warned Gretchen.
	“What if these bombs were perpetrated by our own government as some kind of punishment for not going along with everything they want to do?” Taylor asked, looked directly at Hannah.  
	“You mean that you think we bombed ourselves?” Hannah asked.  “Seriously?”
	“Yeah, this way they can run things the way they want and rule us the way they want.”
	“What’s there to rule??” Hannah asked.  “I would imagine that every major city and most medium-sized ones too are gone.  Blown up.  Do you know how many people that is?  And the ones left are going to be scattered all over the country.  There isn’t going to be a nice, tidy group to rule over.”
	“You’re thinking too short term.” Taylor said.  “These people think decades ahead.  When things start to settle down.  THAT’S when they’ll implement all their plans they’ve had ready for years now.”
	“Taylor?” Gretchen said.
	“Yeah?”
	“Shut up.  You sound stupid.  You should write books with an imagination like that.” she said.
	All four of them finally laughed again.			

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	Adam and Brian were walking down a dirt road one night and heard what sounded like music in the distance.  
	“There’s something you haven’t heard in a while.” Brian remarked.
	As they got closer, they saw a bright orange glow beyond the trees and smelled smoke.  There was a fire in the woods, a big fire.  But with music?  Adam glanced at Brian and then said, “Let’s go check it out.”  
	They got off the dirt road and made their way into the woods.  It wasn’t long until they came to a huge opening about the size of a football field.  The trees were lined up almost in a perfect rectangle around it.  There was a large bonfire going in the middle of the opening with people dancing all around it.  The song You Dropped A Bomb On Me by the Gap Band was playing loudly and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.  Some people had drinks in hand and were talking to one another.  Others just danced wildly around the fire to the beat of the music.  
	You dropped a bomb on me, baby
	You dropped a bomb on me
	One shirtless male in particular was getting into it.  He was jumping around the fire in what appeared to be some form of a tribal dance.  Every so often he’d wave an arm in the air or kick a leg up.  His scuffed up tennis shoes kept kicking the dirt up around him which the glow of the bonfire reflected off of.  It was a strange sight, seeing this youth dance around in an orange glow with at least fifty other people.  The children of the apocalypse, Adam thought.  Dealing with this in their own way.  And it looked like these people were dealing with everything by having a party.  
	Adam and Brian made their way over to where four men were standing around talking to each other.  They all appeared to be in their forties and in desperate need of a shower.  Their clothes were slightly torn and heavy stubble covered all their faces.  Adam waved his hand as they got near.
	“Hey there.” he said.  
	All the men turned to look at them.  Adam saw that they all either had a gun or a large knife.  He stopped.
	“What do you boys want?” one of the men asked.
	“We don’t want anything.” Adam answered.  “We are just making our way back to our grandmother’s and heard the music.”
	One of the men glanced at the others.  “I told you that loud music would attract unwarranted attention.”
	The men turned back to Adam and Brian.  “Where are you coming from?” another man asked them, still not entirely sure of their intentions.
	“Our house was in the vicinity of downtown.  Not close enough to be damaged, but close.  My brother and I had to go back in to retrieve something.”
	“You went back into downtown?” one of the men asked incredulously.
	“No, the house was several miles away from downtown.  There was no way we were going to go through downtown.”
	The men looked at each other and lowered their guard.
	“My name is Adam and this is my brother Brian.”
	The men nodded and one of the said “Not that it matters, but I’m Sam, this is Bobby, Raymond, and Jackson.” he pointed at each man as he said their name.
	“Thank you.” Adam said.  “It’s good to meet you.”
	“You boys hungry or thirsty?” Sam asked.  He led them over to a makeshift table they had set up near the fire.  It had meat that had been cooked presumably over the bonfire and various bags of chips and soda.  It was quite a buffet considering the circumstances.
	“Where did all this come from?  And what’s with the celebration, if you don’t mind me asking.” Adam said as he opened a coke.
	Sam motioned to some chairs and they all sat down.  “Most of the kids here are from the downtown area.” he said as he motioned to the people dancing around the fire.  “Everything they knew or had was destroyed.  Wiped out.  My wife and I own this land.  There’s about two hundred acres.  I come out here one night to find twenty or thirty kids just sleeping out here in the clearing.  I had cleared this space out so my children, if we ever had any, would have a place to play ball.  So I came out here with my gun to find out who this people were on my land and discovered that they weren’t here to harm anyone or mess anything up.  They were just...lost.  Not literally, but since the attack, they had nowhere to go.  Didn’t know what to do.  So they ended up here.  Last night, my generators gave out and I saw that all my meat was going to spoil.  So I came out here, told them to gather up as much wood as they can, that we’re going to have a party here tonight.  What are we celebrating, one of them asked.  Fucking being alive, I told them.  One of them had a big stereo that would run off of batteries, still don’t know why they decided to save that thing, and would provide the music.  So tonight, I brought out all the meat I had, got the bonfire going, and you’re looking at the rest.”  	
	“That’s very generous of you.” Adam said.
	Sam looked around.  “You have to have a reason to keep going sometime...a reason to keep fighting.  If this helps these kids keep going, then it is worth it.  Hell, it even helps me keep going.  Gave me something to do.”
	You dropped a bomb on me, baby
	You dropped a bomb on me
	“Sorry for the hostile greeting.” Sam said.  “I keep hearing from others about how some people are looting and killing.  Just don’t want to take any chances.  We had a couple of guys earlier that were trying to gather up as much food and drink as possible and take it.  When we saw what they were up to, there was a lot of noise but nothing came of it.”
	“Are you still going to meet him?” Jackson asked.
	Sam shot him a look that told Adam some private business was about to come out.
	“I probably will.” Sam finally answered.
	“That guy wants to meet you?” Adam asked.
	“When we told him and his buddy they couldn’t horde food like they were doing, that this thing was for everyone, they didn’t take too well to it.” Sam said.  “When we told them to leave, the guy got in my face and said that he know what I have and I better meet him later tonight out by the main road here.”
	“That doesn’t sound like he wants to talk if you know what I mean.” Adam replied.
	“Oh we’re not taking any chances.” Sam replied, patting the gun on his side.  “I would rather address this now than sit around and wait for him to make trouble if that’s what is on his mind.”
	“Why don’t you take all these people with you?” Brian asked, motioning around at the people dancing around the fire.  “They certainly owe you one.”
	“Well, I’d like to not get anyone else involved.  If it comes right down to it, you’re right, I may have to ask some of them to help out against these guys.”
	“I certainly want to help.” Adam said abruptly.  “You have always heard about how some people will probably try and take advantage of this kind of situation.  Try and intimidate others.  Well fuck that, I’ll help you out.”
	The men laughed.
	“You got a live one here, Sam!” Raymond said, taking a drink.  “I like that!”
	Sam laughed.  “Well, maybe you and the other one can come with us tonight.  The more the merrier.”
	“No problem.” Brian said, as he raised his coke like he was about to make a toast.
	All the men raised their drinks with him.  Nobody said anything, just clinked the cans together and drank.  Then they ate like kings and listened to the music all throughout the night.

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	The man’s map had been surprisingly accurate.  To within several feet, Marc would have guessed.  Since he had nothing else to do while walking, Marc had counted the number of steps he had taken.  That had correlated almost perfectly to the number of feet the man had said would take him to each point on the map.  
	Marc had walked the rest of the way down the dirt road until it dead-ended into a field.  He walked across that field and into some woods.  He had gotten a little bit of sleep at this point, just curled up against a tree.  The woods ended up coming out by what used to be one of the main highways in the city.  Marc followed that for several miles until he saw the road where Alice would normally exit to get to the school.  He wished he had some way of thanking the man, even though he had taken his car at gunpoint.  It probably would have taken him much longer to get here without the aid of this map.  
	When Marc started down the street where his wife’s school was located, he was not encouraged.  Everything looked burnt.  It did not look like the explosion aspect of the bomb had reached out here, but the fires sure did.  Many homes were burned to the ground, trees black, and a distinct smell in the air.  Everywhere.  Marc did not see anybody either.  No movement in any of the homes that were still partially intact.  No movement in the street.  He imagined that he was the only one around.  
	Marc began to jog towards the school.  He could not wait any longer.  The jog turned into a sprint.  Marc was not in shape by any stretch of the imagination.  But he kept sprinting until he saw the school.  He kept sprinting even after he saw the school.  After he saw what the school had turned into.
	His sprint slowed back to a jog and then into a slow walk.  The school had been completely gutted by fire.  The frame was still standing but you could see all the way through the building.  Marc could make out several burnt desks and chairs but that was it.  Everything else was gone.  There was still some remnants of fire remaining, eating away at the roof and the insides.  Marc stood there just looking at it.  The front lawn of the school was completely black.  Marc jogged through it and up to the front door, which was hanging on by a hinge.  There was a pretty intense heat in the area.  He had to cover his mouth at some points because it hurt to inhale the air.  Marc made his way around the building and saw no sign of life.  But he was happy that he saw no signs of death either.  They must have gotten out of here in time, he thought.  Right then, as cruel luck would have it, he saw the body.  It was a small body, burnt up, curled into the fetal position.  Marc let out a small cry and walked towards it.  It was definitely one of the students.  Marc could barely make out a face, and then he looked away wishing he hadn’t come so close to it.  
	Marc slowly backed away, shaking his head.  “Oh God.” he said.  “Where was everyone else?  Where is everyone else?”
	Maybe there is a storm shelter or something in the school they went into.  It was a fairly old school so they might have built one, or even a bomb shelter for that matter.
	Damn the heat, he thought as he made his way into the building.  If there was a door to a shelter, it shouldn’t be that hard to find.  The fire had taken care of any obstacles that would be in the way.  What if they were down there right now?  Suffocating.  Door melted shut.  If the shelter was deep enough, you could not hear any cries for help.
	Marc began a frantic search of the building, kicking aside ash and debris from the floor that might be hiding a door.  He kept up this search for quite a while.  His skin burning from the heat.  His lungs screaming for cool air.  
	Marc never did find a door to a shelter of any kind in the school building.  Did not find any more signs of life or death.  He finally staggered out of the burned building and got far enough away so he could breathe normally.  He fell to the ground, covered in ash.  Where else to look?  Maybe they took a field trip today, he thought.  But surely Alice would have told him about that.  Marc felt helpless.  Where could he go now?  Where else could she be?		
	Marc finally pulled himself together and began to walk away from the school.  There were a few buildings nearby he could go search in.  It was kind of a min-downtown area and they might have some shelters there where people might be.  He had walked about two miles and could see the area he was trying to get to, when two men came out from a house he was passing.  
	“Hey!  Slow down!” one of them called out.
	Marc looked over and immediately didn’t like the look of this.	“Where you going, man?” the guy asked him as he approached.
	“Just over here.  Looking for somebody.” Marc said, eyeing them both.
	“Ha, looking for somebody, huh?  Not going to find anybody around here.  You shouldn’t be here either.”
	“Well, I won’t be for long.” Marc replied.
	“Yeah...you’re right.” the man said as he punched Marc in the face.
	Marc fell back, caught off guard.  He caught himself though and didn’t fall to the ground.  Marc was pretty good about picking his battles and he knew that this was one he didn’t want.  He turned and to the surprise of the men, began to run away.
	“Where you going?!” one of the men hollered.  “Get back here, give us a fight!”
	“This is our area!” the other man yelled.  “Don’t ever come back!”
	Holding his mouth, Marc made his way towards the buildings in front of him.

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	They all had their weapons ready.  It was dark but the moon was full and was lighting the area pretty well.  A slight breeze kept rustling the trees and bushes.  A noise came from a cluster of brush and they all turned to face it.  Two men walked out into the clearing.  	
“Don’t worry, we’re not armed.” one of them said with a smirk.  He made a production of putting his hands up in the air and twirling around several times.  The other guy just stared at them.
	“Make this quick.” Sam said.  “What is it you want?”
	“What we want, what we want?” the guy said, putting his hands down.  “Why I reckon I want what you want partner.” he said, imitating Sam’s southern accent.  
	Sam, not amused, just looked at him.
	The guy suddenly got serious.  “We want your stash of water.  All of it.”
	Sam lowered his gun and laughed.  “You think I have a bunch of water stowed away somewhere?  Is that what you think?  Boy, I think the radiation had already gotten to you.”
	“I know you old man.  You think I haven’t been out here before?  You think that me wandering into your party the other night was a coincidence or an accident?  No.  I know you have water up there.  Lots of it.” 						
	“Listen to me.” Sam said, taking his turn to be serious.  “I don’t know who you are or why you’ve been to my place before, but I have no significant supply of water.  That thing the other night was to give some people one last shot at a big meal.  For some of them, that’s the last meal they’re going to have in this lifetime.  If I was all about hoarding food and drink, I wouldn’t have been out there giving it all away to complete strangers.  You have to get it through your head that you’re on your own now.  We all are.” 
“Well if you want to play it that way...” the guy trailed off. 
 “I suppose that my friends and I will just have to come and help ourselves to your water if you won’t give it to us.”	
With that,  the two guys turned and walked back into the brush that they came  from.             
	Sam glanced over at Raymond and Jackson.  “I don’t like  this.” he said.
	“Neither do I.”  Raymond replied.
	They all started to walk back up to the house. 
	“I guess there’s something I need to tell all of you.” Sam  said.  “In the event that 
those boys do decide to come up here.”
	Everybody stopped and looked at Sam.
	“I actually do have quite a bit of water stored up.  A lot.  Enough to last us a very long time.”
	“Sam, how does this guy know you?” Jackson asked.
	“Don’t know.  I don’t recognize him.” Sam replied.
	“Well, it looks like we may have a fight on our hands.”  Jackson said.  “Like we 
haven’t had enough of that crap already.”
	“You know...if they want a fight, I have something for  them.” Sam said, a grin 
overtaking his face.
________________________________
	It took Sam half the night of digging around in his storage area to find what he was looking for.  He finally found it, went outside, and ran it up the flagpole in his front yard.	In the morning, the sun’s rays hit it with a golden radiance.  A faded white flag with a canon on it with the words Come and Take Itwritten above it.  The flag fluttered in the wind, just like it had back in 1835.  

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	The foursome had decided to stop for the night at what looked to be a legitimate rest area off the side of the road.  They found this circle of stones that would be perfect to make a fire in and set up camp beside it.  They had gathered some pieces of wood from around the site and Taylor used his lighter to get the fire started.  As the night fell, Gretchen pulled some granola bars from her backpack and passed them around.  They all talked for a while.  About what they would have been had all of this not happened.  What kind of work they would have liked to do.  How other people in the world were doing.  
	“You know, I’m glad all this happened.” Jeremy said, suddenly.
	The others looked at him, somewhat shocked but not really.
	“I mean, damn, we’ve become such caricatures of our parents’ generation.  Reliving all their old fears and shortcomings.  Isn’t it nice to not be a slave to work anymore?  To be on your own, fighting for survival?  Finally, we know what it feels like to be alive.”
	Nobody said anything for a bit.  
	“I guess those who see this situation with those eyes will be the ones who make it through.” Gretchen finally said.  “But if you ask me, it’s still a shame that it had to come to this.”	
	They talked for a while longer and agreed that once they got to Hannah’s mom’s house, they could get a few nights of decent sleep there before Gretchen, Jeremy, and Taylor were on their way again.  
	“You really should come with us.” Gretchen told her.  “I mean, see your mom for as long as you like, but then...stay with us.”
	“You know, it might just happen that way.” Hannah said. 
 “My mom and I have a lot of stuff to work out.  Lot of issues that have not been brought up in quite a long time.”
	“Ahhh, one of those.” Jeremy said.  
	Hannah laughed.  “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”  She did not know how exactly seeing her mother would go.  Did not know what she even wanted to say to her.
	After a bit, Jeremy suggested that they tell ghost stories.  
	“Isn’t that pretty cliche?” asked Gretchen.  “I mean, it’s dark, we’re by the woods, around a campfire, we’re young...”
	“So it’s perfect!” Jeremy replied.  He actually told some pretty good stories.  Gretchen had been right about his imagination.  Hannah even found herself looking over her shoulder nervously a few times.
	Gretchen finally announced that she needed to pee.  She stood up but quickly decided that she was not venturing off into the woods alone.
	“I’ll go, make sure nothing happens.” Taylor quickly volunteered.
	“Well, let’s hurry, I really have to go.” Gretchen said.  Taylor glanced over at Jeremy and followed her into the darkness.
	Jeremy moved over by where Hannah was sitting.  
	“You know, my mom and dad split up when I was six years old.” he said.
	“Oh really, I’m sorry to hear that.” Hannah said.	
	“Just so you know you’re not alone dealing with parent issues.” he quickly said.
	“Thanks, I appreciate that.” Hannah said.
	“It’s just that...” Jeremy started and then leaned over and kissed Hannah.
	She was taken by surprise but then pushed him off.  
	“Jeremy...I’m sorry, I just don’t...”
	He then grabbed her arms and forced them to the ground, trying to kiss her again.
	“Stop it!” she tried saying.  
	He got on top of her and kept kissing on her.  She struggled and kicked away at him.  When he went to pull her shirt up, he let one of her arms go and she used it to deliver a punch right to his nose.
	He rolled off of her grabbing at the bleeding body part.  It sounded like he was struggling to say something but couldn’t.  
	“Gretchen!” Hannah called out.  “Taylor!”  Then she caught herself.  What if they had left just so he could do this?  Surely at least Gretchen would not have gone along with such a plan.  
	“Bitch!” Jeremy finally got out.  His nose was bleeding heavily and he was sitting on the ground trying to stop it.
	Hannah put her backpack on her bike and got on it.
	“You’re worthless, you know that.” Jeremy said.  “I mean, what else is there?  What the hell else is there?” he said.
	When the word “worthless” hit Hannah’s ears, she started bawling.  She got off the bike and started throwing rocks at Jeremy.
	“Worthless!!?  Fuck you!” she screamed as she tried to find anything on the ground that she could throw at him.
	Jeremy got up off the ground and stumbled into the woods to get away from Hannah.
	She got on her bike and peddled furiously away.  She only made it a little ways before she had to pull over, sit down, and let all the tears come out.

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	It was a nervous quiet.  Everyone was in their place and ready, but not really ready.  If that made any sense.  Nobody wanted this.  Sam certainly didn’t want this.  He was pacing back and forth, stroking his beard the whole time.  
	“Sam, where did all this water come from?” Jackson asked, staring at the stacks and stacks of full water bottles.
	“I started stocking up on it right before those two suicide bombers hit Seattle and Miami.  Like, the day before.  I mean, you knew this day was coming.  Especially after those two cities got hit.  I just started buying water as much as I could.”
	“You have to know who this guy is.” Raymond said.  “He obviously knows you, knows you have the water.”
	“I wish I did Ray.  I really don’t know who this kid is.  He could have been the bag boy at the store all those times I bought water for all I know.”
	Everybody stopped.  Sam did too for a second and thought.
	“Surely not...I mean, maybe...but surely not.  I don’t know who this idiot is.  It doesn’t really matter right now.  He’s coming with who knows how many people and we need to be ready.” Sam said.
	“Is everybody else where they’re supposed to be?” Jackson asked.
	There had been a decent amount of people who had attended the big cookout and bonfire who were more than happy to help out the man who provided it all.  It seemed like they all had brought a weapon of some kind with them, whether it had been a gun, a knife, or something else.  Sam didn’t know whether to be comforted or frightened by that fact.  Regardless, he had positioned them randomly throughout the property.  The first sign of an intruder and they were to yell, scream, or do whatever to draw attention to their area.  
	Sam knew it wasn’t the best plan ever created but it’s all he had on such short notice.  Against their wishes, he had ordered Adam and Brian back up to the house where they were currently holed up.  They had the same instructions as everyone else.  Make noise if you see someone.  Don’t kill anyone unless absolutely necessary.  Sam certainly didn’t want those boys or any of these kids out here to just start killing for the sake of killing.  Dammit, he thought.  Why can’t people just behave?  Why does all this mess have to happen?
	Then everybody heard it.  A yell coming from the woods to the left of them.  Not too far away.
	Sam looked at Raymond and grabbed his gun.  Everyone took off running in the direction of the yell.  As they ran, Sam listened for more yells.  Waited to hear that they were fully under attack.  But he heard nothing.  Just the “hey!  hey!” coming from the woods.  Sam, Raymond, and Jackson arrived at the area right alongside some of the other kids who were standing guard elsewhere.  The boy who had been sounding the alarm was on the ground, holding his face.  There was another guy on the ground too, writhing in pain.  Sam got a look at his face.  It was the guy’s friend.  The one who had demanded the water.  Raymond quickly searched him and found no weapons.
	“How many more are there?!” Sam asked.
	The guy didn’t answer, he just held his side.  Sam looked down and saw blood coming through his hands.  He had been stabbed in his side and it looked to be pretty deep.  
	“He okay?” Sam asked Jackson, nodding towards the boy on the ground.
	“Yeah, looks like he just got punched in the face from what I can tell.”
	Sam shook the guy, “How many more of you are coming?”
	The guy shook his head.  “Nobody.  It was just me and him.”
	“Don’t lie to me!  How many more?”
	Again, he shook his head.  “I swear, it’s just us.  He just wanted you to think there were more.”
	“Where is he?” Raymond demanded.
	The guy pointed towards the house.  “He took off that direction.”
	“Watch him.” Sam told the others as he took off running towards the house.
	He got close enough where he could see the house and he slowed down.  He would have to be careful from here on in.  He didn’t want this guy to see him.  Sam hid behind a tree and peered around to see if he could spot anyone around the house.  At first he saw nothing.  Then he saw a silhouette creeping towards the house.  He was slinking around the side of the house.  Sam saw that he had a gun in his hands.  
	Adam and Brian.
	Sam decided that he couldn’t wait for the guy to make a move, so he took off running in his direction.  As he got closer, he saw somebody come around the other side of the house, behind the man and smack him in the back of the head with a shovel.
__________________________
	Adam stood over the man.  He had caught him pretty good.  Adam had played baseball for most of his life and he swung that shovel as hard as he had swung any bat.  He and Brian had been lucky that the man decided to circle the house in the direction he had because if he had gone the other way, he would have seen them.
	The man’s gun had flown out of his hand when the shovel made contact with him.  He was moving a little bit on the ground and moaning.  Adam saw that the man’s weapon was well out of reach so he kicked him over on his back.  Adam wanted to finish this.  Wanted to finish this kind of person.
	“Can you hear me?” Adam asked him, raising his voice.
	The man blinked his eyes several times but said nothing.
	Adam raised the shovel over his head and prepared to bring it down into the man’s face.
	“Stop!” Brian cried.  “What are you doing?”
	Adam held the shovel in position.  “We can’t have people like this Brian.  Can’t have people who are out to harm whoever they can.  Not in a time like this.”
	“Don’t do this!” Brian yelled.  “Don’t do this.  Not like this!”
	Adam looked at his younger brother.  He was dirty.  He was afraid.  He looked like he was just ready to go home.  Ready to leave this behind.  Adam knew how he felt.  
	“Adam.” came a voice from the darkness.
	He swung around, ready to strike with his shovel.
	“Adam, put it down.” Sam said as he got close enough where the boys could see him.
	“Sam, this guy...” Adam started.
	“I know.  Adam, I know.  But please, put it down.” Sam said again.
	Adam lowered the shovel and then tossed it on the ground.  Brian ran over and hugged him.
	Sam went over to where the man was on the ground.  He was surprised to find him still conscious.  
	“Why did you come here with just one other person?  Why did you feel the need to do this?” Sam asked him.
	The man sat up, holding his head.  He looked at Sam with genuine bewilderment.  
	“I...I don’t know.” he said after a while.  He looked around like he was searching for an answer.  Searching for a reason.
	“You don’t know why you attacked us?” Sam asked.
	“I guess we just wanted...we thought we needed...” the man tried to get out, then just shook his head.  “I don’t know what we were doing.”  The man looked down then back up at Sam.  “I’m sorry.” he said with tears coming out of his eyes.
	Sam looked at him.
	“I guess we just thought we had our excuse to act like we normally wouldn’t.”
	The man tried to stand up but kept falling back down.  He was successful on his fifth attempt though.  
	“Easy.” Sam said, steadying him.  “You took a pretty good blow there.”
	Sam helped the man to the porch where he sat down.  “Your friend is hurt pretty bad.  Let’s bring him up here and see if we can’t get him fixed up.”
	The man nodded.
	“Hell, I’ll even let you have some water while you’re here.” Sam said, grinning.
	The man managed a smile back.  He looked over at Adam and Brian.  “Hi, I’m Chris.”
	Adam looked at the man who he had almost killed just minutes before.  “Hi, I’m Adam.”	

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	Hannah had peddled the bike for what seemed like miles.  She rode like a madman, like something else had taken over.  The tears had come and gone and come again.  She could feel a buildup inside of her.  Like she was on the verge of a breakdown.  No, she told herself.  Do not cry anymore.  Not about this.  Just ride until you get to mom’s house.  
	Mom’s house.
	Hannah stopped the bike and finally just let it out.  She fell to the ground, pulled her knees to her chest and let it out.  It was one of those cries where it was hard to breathe while it was going on.
_________________
	“Dammit Hannah!” her father yelled.  “Why can’t you just do what we say for once in your life?”
	“I’m sorry.” Hannah said, tearing up.  “I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal.”
	“Well it’s a big deal because you made it a big deal.  Your mother and I don’t get to eat out that often and when we do, all we ask is that you stay home until we get back!” he went on.
	“I know, but...” she started.
	“But you can’t just stay home, you have to go out.  When your mother tried calling to check on you, nobody answered.  That gets her worried and we can’t enjoy the rest of our evening.  We have to rush home to see if you’re all right.”
	“I’m sorry, I won’t...”
	“One evening.  One fucking evening is all I ask!” her father grabbed her by the shoulders and looked in her eyes.  “You’re worthless, you know that?  Worthless!”
	Hannah struggled free.  “I hate you!  I didn’t mean to ruin your evening!” she yelled, through her tears.
	The slap across her face shocked her more than it hurt.  Then came another one.  That one hurt.
	“You hate me?” her father asked, ready to strike her again if she made a sound.  “All you are is a rip in the condom.  That’s all you’ve ever been to me.” He then put his hand down and walked out of the room.
	Hannah stood there, holding her cheek, stunned.  She turned around and saw her mother standing in the doorway.  Her mother looked at her.  Looked at her only daughter.  Then she turned and went to find her husband.
	Her husband left that night, never to return.  Hannah did the same several days later.
__________________________
	Hannah got up off the ground.  Fuck this, she said.  I’m going home.  I’m going to see my mother.  I’m going to ride my ass off until I get there.  I want some answers from her.  No, I need some answers from her.  She’s gotten off easy for all this.  Hannah remembered something that her grandfather used to say.  
	“Living is the hardest thing you’ll ever do.”
	She had always thought that was a ridiculous statement, as it made no sense to her.  Now she got it.  She understood what he meant by that.
	Hannah got back on her bike and began her trip again.  She hoped her anger and determination would carry her the rest of the way.

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	Marc was walking down the street, disheveled.  It was getting to be evening or so he thought.  It was hard to tell now, the sun obscured by thick dark grey smoke.  Whatever time it was, it was getting hard to see, there was a haze setting in.  
	 A little rain started to come down on him.  It wasn’t heavy rain, more of a hard sprinkle.  Just enough to annoy you.  The rain drops kept coming down Marc’s forehead into his eyes.  He kept brushing them away, using his arm as a sort of a windshield wiper.
	Marc’s mouth still hurt from where the guy had punched him.  He didn’t have a mirror but knew that it was swelling.  He was lost, no idea where he was going.  Alice.  Where was she?  What had happened to her?  Maybe she was back at their place.  She had made it out of all this and gotten back to their place where she was waiting for him right this minute.  Should he go see if she is there?  He had never wanted a phone more badly in his life than right now.  To call her and hear her voice.  To know she was unharmed.  
	But what if he went back and she wasn’t there?  If he went back and she wasn’t sitting on the couch reading a magazine waiting for him to walk through the door, what then?  Come back here to continue the search?  He didn’t see the point in that.  If she even survived the attack, there were millions of places she could be right now.  There’s no way he could go through every floor of every building in the area searching for her.  That wasn’t realistic.  Marc yelled in frustration.  That yell soon turned into a cry.  An almost uncontrollable cry.  Marc backed up to the side of a building he was walking by and slid down to the ground.  With his face in his hands, he continued to cry.  There’s nothing else he could do.  He pulled his knees to his chest and tried to calm himself.
	“What is it son?”
	Marc popped his head up at the sound of the old woman’s voice.  She was standing in front of him, a black seventy year old lady wearing an off-white dress that had seen better days.  She offered him her hand to get him off the ground.  He took it.
	“Th...thank you.” he finally got out.  “I’m sorry you had to see this.”
	“Oh, I’ve seen plenty of tears in my day, especially recently.” she replied, a hint of a smile on her lips.  “What, besides the obvious, is getting to you now?”
	Marc shook his head.  “It’s my wife...she taught school around this area and I don’t know....don’t know if she....” he trailed off.
	The lady took his hand and rubbed it.  “I’m sorry.  I truly know how hard it is to lose a loved one.”
	“But that’s just it, I don’t know if she’s dead.  I don’t know if she’s dead, alive, hurt, or anything.  For all I know, she’s waiting for me back home.”
	“Maybe.” the lady said, slightly nodding her head.  “Just maybe.  I’ve heard of it happening.”
	Marc began to pace around.  “Do you think so?  Do you think she’s just waiting for me to walk through the door?”
	“No...I don’t.” the lady said somberly.
	Marc stopped.  “Well, you know how to bring someone’s spirits up don’t you.”
	“If there’s one thing I don’t do, it’s lie.  You know what else I’ve heard of happening since the day of the attacks?  I’ve heard of women being kidnapped and made sex slaves.  I’ve heard of people running around killing at random because there’s no consequence to it.”
	“Sex slaves?” Marc asked.  “Who is thinking of that right now or where would it even go on?  What the.....what the hell...” he trailed off again, tears filling his eyes.  He absolutely did not want to imagine that Alice met that fate.  He would rather her be dead than held captive and violated the rest of her life.  “Je....Jesu...”
	The lady put a hand on his shoulder.  “Stop.”
	Marc looked at her.  Looked in her eyes.  He could tell they had seen quite a bit over the span of her life.  He trusted those eyes. “You need to go home now.” she said.  “You could spend the rest of your life out here searching for something that you will never find.  Just...go home.”
	“But what if...” Marc started.
	“Go home.” the lady said one last time and then she turned and walked away into the hazy evening.
	Marc watched her go.  He trusted her eyes.
	Not having anywhere else to go or anything else to do, Marc began the long walk back home.

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	Adam woke up suddenly.  He was in a strange room.  He didn’t recognize this room.  Adam looked over and saw Brian asleep next to him, the sun ray coming through the window and resting on his face.  Adam then remembered where they were.  At Sam’s house.  Safe.  Adam settled back into bed and observed the room for a bit.  It had an older feel to it.  An older country feel.  The bed looked like it was made from an actual tree.  Like someone had gone out, chopped it down and fashioned it into a queen-size bed.  Still had the bark and everything.  There was a cowhide chair in one corner with a pair of jeans thrown over it.  Adam imagined that the chair would be itchy to sit on.  The sunlight pouring into the room illuminated the dust that was in the air.  It looked to be quite a bit and Adam wondered how he wasn’t choking on it.  
	There was a soft knock on the door.
	“Come...” Adam started but his throat was very dry and wouldn’t let him produce another word until he swallowed some saliva.
	“Come in.” he tried again, successfully.
	Sam came through the door carrying a big plate of bacon.  Smoke was coming off the top of the stack.  It smelled wonderful.
	“Good morning.” Sam said in a loud, booming voice.  Then he saw that Brian was still asleep and made a “whoops” face.
	Brian stirred in the bed and finally opened his eyes.  Like Adam, it took him a second to figure out where he was.  
	“Sorry, young one.” Sam said.  “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
	Brian waved it off.  “I’m up.”
	“Where did that come from?” Adam asked, pointing at the bacon.
	“Oh, you don’t think I gave all my food away did you?” Sam asked.  “All I needed was a nice little fire and a frying pan and voila!  Breakfast!”				Sam sat the plate on the edge of the bed.  Both Adam and Brian eagerly reached for it, like they hadn’t eaten in days.
	“Boys, was it your grandparents place that you are trying to get to?” Sam asked them, turning serious.
	Brian swallowed his mouthful of bacon and answered “Yes.  Our parents went there and we have to meet them.”
	“Do you know how far it is from here?” Sam asked.
	Adam thought for a bit.  “About twenty miles.”	
	“Well I certainly want you to get there as quickly as possible, sure your parents do to.  I think you two should stay here for a couple of days, eat, get your energy back.  After that, we’ll see what we can do to get you to your destination.”
	“Please, that’s all right.  You’ve done more than enough to help us out.” Adam said.  “I’m sure you’re ready to have some time by yourself.”
	Sam smiled.  “Not really.  It would mean a lot to me and my wife if you would let us help you out.”
	“Your wife?” Brian asked, bacon flying out of his mouth.
	“Elaine!” Sam called.
	A lady slightly older than Sam stepped into the room.  She had on a light blue dress that was probably meant to be worn while doing chores around the house.  Her hair was graying and she had a smile on her face.
	“Hello.” she said.  “Sam has told me all about you.”
	Again Sam smiled.  “You didn’t think I’d let her be a part of all that mess did you?”
	Adam laughed.  “Nice to meet you.”
	Brian nodded.  “Me too.”
	“So you’ll let us help?” Elaine asked.
	Adam glanced at Brian.  “Of course.” he said.  “As long as Sam keeps making breakfast.”
	Elaine laughed, “Oh it will be so nice having kids in the house again.”  She then left the room.
	“Thanks boys.  This means a lot...to both of us.” Sam said.
	“Means a lot to us too.” Adam replied.  
	Sam patted them both on the leg and left the room too.
	“Do you think mom and dad will be worried if we don’t get there soon?” Brian asked.
	“No more worried than they’ve been.” Adam said.  “We’ll get there.  We probably should rest though, that’s going to be a long trek to the house.”
	Brian nodded.  
	Adam got out of the bed and went to the window.  It was a nice day, everything considered.  It was sunny right now, would get overcast later in the day.  Adam spotted the glove on the cowhide chair.  
	“Hey.” he said, tossing the glove to Brian.  “Don’t you dare forget this.”
	“Wouldn’t that be something.  After all this, go off and leave the glove.”
	“I’d destroy you.” Adam said.  “Completely destroy you.”
	Brian laughed, then got serious.	
	“Thanks.  Thanks for helping me get it back.” Brian said.
	Adam stopped, he felt tears building up in his eyes.  He looked back at Brian.  “Anytime.  Anytime at all.”

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	Marc walked back into his apartment.  Or what was left of it.  It looked like a mini bomb had gone off in it.  Trash was everywhere, his refrigerator door was wide open, cabinets cleaned out.  He figured that people would have come looking for food but what was the point of wrecking the place?  Maybe it’s just because they could, he thought.  Somebody needed to act out.  Maybe that’s what this whole ordeal was.  Just people needing to act out on a global scale.  A took his gun out of his pocket and placed it on the table.  Hopefully whoever had come through here would not be coming back.  
	His mind and body were both tired.  He sat down in the only kitchen chair that wasn’t knocked over on the floor.  What would he do now?  He sat in the chair for a few more minutes, then decided to go see how bad the damage was in the rest of the apartment.  
	The rest of the place was in near perfect shape.  He noticed that he was missing his economy size bottle of Tylenol, which he thought was strange, but made him a little mad since he could use about four of those little pills right now.  It didn’t look like the bedroom had been touched so it appeared that whoever came in here just came for food and pain medicine.  
	As Marc walked back down the hall towards the living room he began to cry.  He had cried more in the last few days than in his entire life.  He reached the living room and just sat on the floor.  He pulled his knees up to his chest and sobbed loudly for a long time.  He finally got it all out of his system and let go of his legs which he had wrapped his arms around.  He leaned back against a wall and sat indian-style on his and Alice’s new carpet.  He ran his fingers through his hair and when he glanced down at them, he saw chunks of hair in between his fingers.  He looked at it for a little bit, ran his hands through his hair again, and saw even more hair come out.  Marc closed his eyes and thought about his wife.  He thought about dying slowly from radiation sickness, starvation, or a hundred other painful ways.  He thought about how many years, decades, or even centuries it was going to take for all the countries to recover from this war.  He felt heartache and then a great weight pressing down on him.  Marc hoped that his wife was killed in the initial blast.  That way she wouldn’t have to experience any of this.  Hopefully she was in her room, teaching the day’s lesson, saw a bright flash and that was it.  Hopefully it was quick.  It made Marc sick to think that there was still a possibility that she was alive somewhere.  Possibly clinging onto life.  Hair falling out like his.  Marc prayed that, at worst, that was what was happening to her.  Marc didn’t want to imagine how it might be worse for her.  He had occasionally allowed tiny snippets of dark thoughts to enter his mind.  She might have been kidnapped, raped, or a number of other horrific things.  
	The weight pressed down even more.  There was nothing he could do for her anymore.  Even if she was still alive, it was doubtful he would ever see her again.  He had radiation poisoning from being near the blast area for too long and probably a few other things he didn’t know about.  He would not last too many more days.  It had literally killed him to go looking for his wife.  He was fine with that.  	All of the sudden, his stomach lurched forward and he puked all over the floor in front of him.  He had not had that much to eat recently so he wasn’t sure what he was puking up.  It was a dark reddish color and he wondered if it was blood.  He sat back against the wall and stared at the vomit on the carpet.  Alice’s new carpet.  She had been so proud of it.  It had taken forever for her to pick out the exact color she wanted.  It had to match a certain color in their couches.  It had taken forever, but she finally found it.  She looked like a kid on Christmas morning when she discovered it.  Now, he had puked all over it.  
	Marc felt ill.  He felt hot, then cold, then hot again.  He began to shake.  Every time he touched his head, some hair come out.  He could not go on like this.  Not like this.  The crushing weight was almost a physical presence.  He closed his eyes and pictured Alice kissing him goodbye one random morning on his way to work.  As he walked to his car in the garage, he turned around and saw her closing the door, smiling and waving goodbye.  He then heard the click of the door finally being closed.  With that click, he opened his eyes.  
	He got up off the floor, walked over to the table and picked up the gun.  Goodbye Alice, I love you.  
	Alice smiling and waving goodbye.
	On a warm July afternoon, Marc Thomas took his own life.	

					

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	Lynne sat on her porch with a warm diet coke in one hand and a cigarette in the other.  She would usually begin this routine right after lunch.  Ever since the attacks she had sat out here watching the narrow dirt road in front of her house, waiting for someone to come by.  Waiting for someone to come check on her, to come rob her, something.  She calculated that she had enough drinks and nicotine to last her another week.  After that, she would have to make some decisions as to what to do.  She was at retirement age when all this happened.  Another year of work and then she would have been content to spend the rest of her days in this house by herself.  She heard that her husband had died a few years ago and she had no illusion that her daughter thought enough of her to come visit.  Not that Lynne could blame her.  Poor child.  She wished sometimes that she could hit a reset button on this life and try it again.  Lynne thought that was the cruelest thing about this existence...by the time you figure it out, it’s over.  She took a quick hit off her cigarette.  There are plenty of things she would have done differently.  She would have spoken up at a time when she thought she should be quiet.  Loved more, laughed more, the typical reflections on a life that had not worked out as planned.  
	Lynne would watch that dirt road until the sun set.  The road was just about a quarter mile off the main highway that ran through this area.  Just a dusty, unassuming dirt road that led directly to her front door.  Lynne lifted the coke can to take a drink and ended up spilling some on the front of her shirt.  With not as much disgust as she would have had a while back about this type of accident, she reached for an old towel that was on the chair beside her and wiped her shirt off.  
	She heard the crackings of someone walking up her road.  The pop of sand rocks as they were stepped on.  Lynne looked up and thought she was seeing a mirage.  A young woman with sandy blonde hair just like hers was about 100 feet away and walking towards the house.  Lynne dropped the towel and stood up.  
	“Hannah?  Is that you?” she asked.
	Hannah said nothing as she walked up the porch steps and stopped just short of where her mother was standing.  The two looked at each other for a bit.  Hannah was grimy and sweaty and had an overall dirty look to her.  Lynne was clean for the times and had a smell of cigarettes about her.  Tears also began to stream down her face.  
	She held her arms open.  “Hannah....please...” she got out as she beckoned her daughter to her.
	Hannah stood there, contemplating.  Had she come all this way to not hug and forgive her mother.  The only real family she had left.  Had she gone through all this just to come here and tell her mother that she was wrong for what she did and what she didn’t do?  The pressure of the recent events finally took hold of Hannah and she too began to cry.  She went into her mother’s outstretched arms.
	“I’m sorry baby.  I’m so sorry.” Lynne said between sobs.
	They stayed like that on the porch for the longest.  Just embracing each other, wondering how much the past really mattered anymore.  
	As she stroked her daughter’s hair, Lynne said “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up a bit, some food in you, and then we’ll talk.”
	Lynne then went and held the door open for Hannah.  Hannah looked at the house beyond that open door.  She had hated this house for a long time.  She swore she would never return.  But global nuclear war has a way of changing small details like that.  Hannah laughed at the absurdness of it all.  It took a devastating worldwide war to get her back to this house.  Hannah looked at her mother who was still holding open the door.  She smiled at her and decided to go in and try to make this place home again.	

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	The old woman opened her eyes.  Alive for another day, she thought.  She had seen much in her lifetime.  Death, birth, laughter, tears, living.  But nothing that compared to the recent events.  She often wondered why all these things transpired in her life.  She thought of herself as a history book that was alive.  She had seen a great deal of history.  She got out of bed and went to the mirror.  An experienced face stared back at her.  She ran her fingers through her gray hair.  You’ve seen quite a bit old girl, she thought.  She smiled.  If nothing else, she was a survivor.  Maybe she was allowed to live so she could record all of these happenings.  A purpose filled her mind.  She left the bathroom and sat down at the table where she and her husband used to eat breakfast.  She opened a blank notebook and grabbed a pen.  She had a lot of work to do and she could not wait to get started.
	The father stepped outside of his home.  It was a hot Pakistani afternoon.  He squinted through the sun.  Something seemed different about today.  For the first time since it happened, he heard laughter outside.  He saw a few people outside sitting around a table, having tea.  They seemed....happy.  He saw the smiles on their faces.  The children’s laughter filled his ears also.  He could not see them but they were there somewhere.  It was a hot afternoon.  A nice day.  He went back in the house and grabbed a soccer ball.  He called for his son who was playing with a puzzle in the kitchen.  The boy came to him and the father kneeled down so he could look in his face.  He looked at him for a minute or two and then stood up.  He ruffled the boys hair and kicked the soccer ball gently towards him.  The boy’s face lit up.  They both went outside and spent all afternoon kicking the ball up and down the street.  Living.
	The sun was beginning to set on the baseball game.  The town got together every Friday night to watch the kids play.  They had various leagues set up and tonight was the 16-18 years old age group.  When this first started, there was a big community effort to clean up the baseball field.  It had gotten overgrown and the fences were in need of repair.  People showed up early in the morning and worked until the sun went down.  You would have thought they were getting paid.  When the games started, almost the entire town showed up.  This was the highlight of the week.  Something to look forward to.  The games had to start early in the afternoon so they would be finished before sunset.  Since there was no electricity, when the sun set, the game was over.  Tonight, the sun began to disappear in the bottom of the 7thinning.  It was a close game.  Everyone was having a good time.  It mattered not who won.  It finally got to a point where there was enough darkness and it was getting hard to see the ball.  The umpires conferred, looked around, and started to call the game.  But a mother of one of the players opened her purse.  She had organized this a few days ago as a surprise for the kids.  She hoped everyone had remembered.  She took a large flashlight out of her purse, turned it on, and aimed it toward the field.  The kids looked around as everybody else in the stands began to do the same.  In the end, there were hundreds of flashlights illuminating the playing field.  The players tossed the ball around, seeing if they all could see it all right.  It was perfect.  The kids ran back to their positions on the field and the umpire yelled “play ball” for the second time that night.
	For the people who survived the attacks, they were basically split into two groups in the weeks and months following the event.  Those who wanted to live and those whose load became too much to bare.  The ones who wanted to live found little things that kept them going.  That got them through.  For some, it was meeting with friends, either old or new.  That spirit of community.  For others, it was just the sheer curiosity as to what would happen.  How would life be in ten years?  When would electricity come back?  Would there ever be a sense of normalcy again?  It was this curiosity that kept them going.  That kept them alive.  For those that wanted it, there was still life that needed to be lived.  There was a general sense that they had made it through.  That they were on this ride, for better or for worse.  Floating down a river.  Caring no more. 

							

	

	

because it comes
it comes on down
into the sky
no need for sound
I know it falls
it falls again
into the ground
it turns around