Radioactive and The Decay Dystopian Super Boxset- A Dirty Bomb and Nuclear Blast Prepper Tale of Survival (71 page)

"There's been a mix-up," Samantha said. "But Paul is going to work it all out and then we'll be okay."

It felt like the greatest lie she had ever told Julie. Even as she said the words, they felt hollow and disingenuous. She had to believe it though; if not for herself, for the both of them. Paul was coming back and the world was going to be saved, even in its less than ideal state. They ventured towards the cavern when Samantha stopped and threw Paul's backpack off her shoulders. Julie watched her curiously as she retrieved the pistol and flashlight from inside.

"For the animals," Samantha said, "if we find any."

"I hope you're a good shot," Julie said cautiously.

They walked towards the cavern with Samantha leading. The opening was welcoming, sunlight beamed inside, lighting a path of sparkling rocks and stone walls. No creature had claimed the immediate area, and they were safe to venture inside.

"Let's take a breather," Samantha said, as she sat against the wall.

"Finally," Julie said back.

They sat quietly as Samantha dispensed snacks and water between her and Julie. Julie had ended her insistent line of questioning to bask in the goodness of granola bars and water. It wasn't much, but it made all the difference. The chaos beyond the mountains, deep within the city was a foregone conclusion; all they had to focus on was the now. No one would find them, and they would wait patiently until everything was over.

Paul was blocks from the radio studio as the police surrounded him. Several police cars abandoned the pursuit when they were called away to deal with the growing riots near the convention center, but enough remained to take Paul down. The Malibu skid to the side of a red brick building and crashed without warning. The airbag smashed Paul in the face, bloodying his knuckles, and leaving him disoriented. Five police cars surrounded the crash site as they jumped out of their cars and drew their weapons.

"Get out of the car and put your hands on your head!" an officer yelled.

Paul felt warm blood trickle down his forehead. He looked to the passenger seat and saw that the laptop had been flung to the floor. He unbuckled his seatbelt and lurched forward to grab the laptop as the voices of authority shouted to him from their concealed positions. He hadn't traveled this far, leaving his wife and step-daughter behind,
just to be apprehended. He staggered out of the crumpled and smoking Malibu with the laptop in-hand.

The police officer shouted new instructions.

"Lie down on the ground and put your hands above your head!"

Paul walked out of his car to see police knelt down outside their cars on each side of him. Clutching the laptop, he placed one hand in the air as a symbol of surrender. Momentarily, the police lowered their weapons; presuming that Paul was unarmed. With a bloodied face, he made a motion to indicate compliance, then ran down to the side of the other building, down the alleyway before they could even figure out what to do.

Two police officers from the north side fired upon Paul, missing both times. The gun shots jolted him, further realizing the suicidal nature of his mission. He ran down the very familiar alleyway that he had seen before. It was dumb luck on his part, but he gave no dispute. Taken aback, the police scrambled to chase Paul, but he had made it far down the alleyway before they came to their senses.

He ran to the door known to him and pounded on it fervently. The police, three of them, descended quickly down the narrow path towards him, past the dumpsters and upright barrels that aligned the alley. The door swung open, revealing Arthur in his disheveled and wary state.

"You again?" he asked.

"Let me in, quick, the cops are chasing me," Paul stammered.

Arthur backed up in a resistant manner.

"What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?" he asked.

"Just let me in, I have information about everything!" Paul said.

Arthur peeked outside and saw the police charging towards them, though his back alley door was behind a large green dumpster and neither Paul nor Arthur could be seen.

"Alright, come in, but, so help me God, you better not get me shot."

Paul ran in as Arthur shut the metal door and applied the many deadbolts. He quickly knelt down to spy through the lower mail slot in the door. He watched as legs ran past the door in a fury. Arthur rose to his feet and proceeded to interrogate.

"What is it now, my friend? Did you find your wife?"

Paul held the laptop proudly in his arms, and pushed Arthur aside, ignoring his direct questioning.

"Just listen to me for a moment. Are you able to broadcast yet?" Paul asked.

Arthur thought to himself, trying to figure out what Paul wanted and why he had burst into his studio in such labored haste.

"It depends. What are you doing here?" he asked.

Paul held up the laptop like a glittering prize.

"What you said earlier, about the airport and the secret society, it's true. I have Senator Bryant's laptop, he's trying to create World War Three and we have to stop him."

Arthur took a step back and examined Paul closely. His visitor was smeared with blood on his forehead and his hands. Arthur wanted to keep it low-key and here was this man bringing the police right to him.

"You went to the airport?" Arthur asked.

"Yes, I did. I found my wife. She was in a bunker with Senator Bryant. She escaped and stole his laptop. There's enough information on this thing to expose the entire conspiracy. Bryant engineered the nuclear attacks with some sort of organization he belongs to. They set up the entire thing and I have the evidence!"

"I have to say, I'm not surprised," Arthur said, clearing his throat.

"We don't have much time. The police are surrounding the building as we speak. We have to broadcast this information before it's too late," Paul said with conviction.

Arthur held his hand up in resistance. "Just hold on a minute here, Paul. I don't even know if I can send anything out, and even if I could, what difference would it make?"

"People need to know the truth!" Paul shouted. "I left my wife and daughter to come here. The media has labeled us terrorists, all because of the information we have. We have to get it out there!"

"You don't understand. I've been talking about people like Senator Bryant for years. People don't care about those kinds of thing anymore. After the nuclear attacks everyone is just trying to survive. What you have on that laptop doesn't amount to a hill of beans," Arthur said.

A sudden pounding came upon the door followed by shouts from the police. Paul jumped as Arthur looked on. His apprehension about letting Paul into the building was verified. He had made a mistake, and now there was no turning back.

"This is it, Paul, they're on to us now. Is this what you wanted? Now we'll both end up in the gulags with the others, all for what, some laptop?"     

"The megabomb, it's real. Bryant and his people set it up. The plan was to have terrorists transport the bomb and then intercept it from them. The various nationalities of the terrorists would then be used to further wage war against a slew of countries around the world, decimating the American military force, thus rendering it a powerless country. It's part of their global order, and it's all on this laptop."

"I'm aware of their lofty ambitions, but even I have a hard time believing they could actually pull it off," Arthur said.

"They haven't yet. They lost control. The terrorist group is off the map, and they're going to use the bomb. They're going to detonate the megabomb. We have to stop them, I don't care how, but we've got to try," Paul pleaded.

"Reports of that missing bomb have the entire city in a frenzy. If we broadcast that officials in the U.S. government willingly armed terrorists with a nuclear bomb, I don't know what the people will do, but it's not going to be pretty."

"We don't have a choice," Paul said. "The people have to know."

"Do you know which terrorist group has the bomb? Do you know where and when they plan to deploy it?" Arthur asked.

"Senator Bryant has to know. If we get the word out, turn the heat up on him then we can get closer to finding the bomb."

Only Paul had no clue that the good Senator was already dead.

"This is insane," Arthur said. "And coming from me, that's quite an overstatement."

"Just give me five minutes, let me show you what's on this laptop. Please, Arthur, you're my only hope."   

Paul followed Arthur into the radio studio in haste. He had little time to go into all the intricate details, so he simply opened the laptop and files, and gave Arthur a glimpse into the vast conspiracy that Arthur, in all his years of railing against the government, couldn't have imagined if he tried.

"This says everything. If I didn't see it for myself, I would have never believed it."

Arthur took a minute to read through some of the files. There were correspondent emails between Senator Bryant and his contacts about specific times and locations for the nuclear strikes, one of the key locations involving Washington D.C. It was almost too much to take in, but the severity of the situation shook him the core. Either Senator Bryant had wild and deplorable fantasies that frighteningly mirrored real life or he was a part of the entire thing.  

"Can you broadcast this on the air?" Paul asked straightforwardly.

"I might be able to, if you would give me a minute," Arthur said with frustration.

He messed around with wires and connections for minutes as banging came to the front door, startling both of them.

"They're right outside the door now. Are we good to go yet, or what?" Paul asked.

"Hold on a damn minute!" Arthur shouted. "I've been trying to go live for weeks now. It's not just going to happen in a flash."

The banging continued. The police had a door battering ram in their midst and used it to repeatedly club the front door of the studio while Paul and Arthur scrambled.

"Okay, I think I have it. They've been blocking frequencies for some time now, but we should be able to get this out there," Arthur said as sweat poured from his forehead.

The bashing upon the door grew louder. The police were close to storming the room and snatching Arthur and Paul like common criminals.

"Go. Speak, dammit, speak," Arthur said after pressing a mess of buttons on the control panel.

"Is this going out?" Paul asked. "I don't want to be talking to dead air."

Arthur ran from the mixing board into the studio, nearly at the point of a nervous breakdown.

"It's as good as it's going to get, just say your piece, quickly!"

Paul leaned into the microphone and spoke as the battering outside thundered within the studio.

"If anyone is listening to this, ignore the news broadcasts because I have the truth. Senator Bryant of Colorado is part of a massive conspiracy to destroy the United States with nuclear bombs in strategically selected areas. They're a group that call themselves The Masterminds. They had it all planned out. They stole a nuclear bomb, known as the megabomb, and lost track of it with a rouge terrorist group in New York City. The terrorist group is currently traveling with the bomb with the intent to use it. We can stop this. I don't know where they plan to detonate it, but if everyone looks for these people we can stop them. They say that the megabomb will take up to five states out at once when they detonate it. We have to find it before it's too late."

Just then, the door to the studio burst open with an army of swat team members at the helm. They stormed down the hall with their weapons drawn, ready to capture Paul--the suspected terrorist--and take him in. As their hustling footsteps grew louder, Paul screamed into the microphone in one last gasp.

"Senator Bryant! He's the key to everything. His group is living in a bunker underneath the Denver airport. They know everything. This is the truth. It's the only thing we have left. My name is Paul Thompson, I'm nobody, but my wife came across this information because she was there. Her name is Samantha. The media have labeled us terrorists, but they're lying. They're lying to each and every one of you. The megabomb is in the hands of the real terrorists and I suspect they're going to try to attack us very soon. The American people must stop this. We've suffered enough, but if this bomb goes off, there's no going back."

Arthur monitored the switchboard nervously as he heard the sounds of police barreling into the studio, shouting at them to get on the ground. Paul raised his hands in the air and moved to the floor. The show was over.

Ammon's "Brotherhood" had set up camp in Austin, Texas. If Sacha suspected anything, it was that Austin was their final stop. The mere mention of Texas by Ammon had Sacha thinking. Ammon claimed to not know more than a snippet of their plan, but the minute he mentioned Texas, Sacha knew they planned to deploy the bomb there. To take out the largest and one of the most populated states in the country made perfect sense. Who knew how many surrounding states would perish as well.

They parked--one semi-trailer and two vans--at a deserted rest stop outside the city limits and remained there for days, quiet and patient. The mood had changed as the days past, but their new collective excitement led Sacha to believe that the plan was growing into fruition. They prayed constantly, and seemed to be closer than ever to achieving some type of magnanimous goal. Ammon approached Sacha and inquired him about his inevitable conversion.