The End (10 page)

“Okay,” he answered, disappointed.

“Okay, babe, I'm out. We'll probably be a couple hours, maybe more. We should be back by late afternoon.”

He ran to Jimmy's truck and jumped into the passenger seat.

“Here,” Gordon said, handing the HK to Jimmy.

“Whoa. Really? You think it's going to be that bad? You know I'm not a big gun guy,” Jimmy said, taken aback by the sight of the handgun.

“Listen, I don't think it will be that bad at Ralph's but you better get used to it. I believe shit will hit the fan and you better know how to use this thing. Remember what happened after Katrina hit New Orleans or the chaos in the Northeast after Hurricane Sandy? This is like a million Katrinas. Jimmy, you're going to have to change your perspective. Your business is gone; your job now is to find food and water for your family daily. I don't mean to preach, but you need to wake up. the lights are probably not coming on for a long, long time.” Gordon didn't mince words.

“Okay, give it to me,” Jimmy said reluctantly. He grabbed the handgun and slid it between the seat and the center console.

“Enough bullshitting, let's go get some food,” Gordon said loudly.

Jimmy started the truck. It had a deep exhaust sound. He put it into gear and accelerated quickly, causing a brief spin out. They headed west, toward the slowly descending sun.

Musa Qala, Helmand Province, Afghanistan

“Van Zandt, you awake, bro?” Tomlinson asked. The tent was pitch black except for a slight haze coming from the old halogen lights outside.

“Yes,” Sebastian answered from the darkness.

“I'm really worried for my girl. You think she's okay?”

“I'm sure she's fine; just probably laying around with a candle lit, thinking of you,” Sebastian answered.

“Yeah, you're right.” Tomlinson sounded a little more relieved.

Sebastian tossed and turned. He couldn't sleep for two reasons: the loud sound of heavy machinery outside his tent, and the never-ending thoughts about Gordon, Samantha, and the kids. He felt that he needed to be there with them and was considering voicing his opinion on the topic. He finally made the decision, and since he couldn't sleep he sat up. He felt around in the dark until he located his boots, put them on, and left the tent heading directly for Gunny Smith's tent.

Even though it was very early in the morning, there was a lot of activity going on at the base. Everyone was prepping for the move out. Heavy equipment moved items onto pallets and everyone was abuzz.

It didn't take Sebastian long to make it to Gunny's tent. He was about to poke his head in and wake him, but paused. Thinking that complaining would get him nowhere, he changed his mind and walked away.

“Corporal Van Zandt, did you need to see me?” asked Gunny.

Sebastian turned around to see Gunny Smith walking toward his own tent.

“Yes, Gunny, I was looking for you.” Sebastian walked toward Gunny. Sebastian felt very nervous and now wished he had never decided to do this.

When the two reached each other, Sebastian stood for a brief second, silent. He was still contemplating whether he should voice his concern.

“Well what is it, Van Zandt?” Gunny asked, hands on his hips.

“Gunny, I'm trying to figure how to put this. May I speak frankly?” Sebastian asked.

“Let's go into my hooch, we can have a conversation in there, but please make it brief, we have a lot of work to do,” Gunny said. He walked over to his tent and went inside. “Come on in, Corporal.”

Sebastian followed.

“Sit down over there on that cot,” Gunny said, pointing at a cot up against the left side of the tent.

There wasn't much in the tent: two cots, a makeshift desk with a chair, and a few boxes of Meals Ready to Eat rations. Gunny took off his cover and tossed it on the cot and sat down in the chair.

Gunny just stared at Sebastian, waiting for him to talk. He was of average height, lean, always tan, and had the scars of war already on his body from his face down to his arms.

“Okay, Corporal, what's on your mind?”

“I'm going to be blunt.”

“Please do, Corporal.”

Sebastian kept hesitating, but he knew he was committed to speaking his mind now; he just wanted to phrase it right without looking like a whiner.

“Gunny, I don't like this idea of going to the East Coast while our families are on the West Coast, possibly in harm's way.”

“I understand your concern, Corporal, but our mission is to go support recovery efforts on the East Coast around D.C. You're a Marine and your orders have been given.”

“I understand that, Gunny, you know I do, but has anyone else voiced these concerns to the battalion commander? I can't imagine I am the only one who has this concern. These attacks on the homeland are unprecedented and put all of our families in life-and-death situations,” Sebastian said. The tension could be seen in his body as he spoke.

“Yes, your concerns have been expressed. However, we have our mission and we cannot deviate from that. Our new mission is like any other we have taken. We will do it and do it like U.S. Marines. I do appreciate you coming to me and you always know my door is open. I trust that even with your concerns and disagreement with our new mission that you'll perform your duties like you always have?” Gunny asked as he stood up from his chair.

“Yes, Gunny, of course,” Sebastian assured him, standing up as well. Sebastian walked to the entrance of the tent.

“Make sure your team is ready to go, we have company formation at oh-five-hundred,” Gunny told Sebastian.

“We'll be ready, Gunny,” Sebastian replied. He exited the tent.

Walking back toward his tent, he felt conflicted. The Marine Corps meant a lot to him, but knowing his brother and family were in harm's way changed everything.

“Van Zandt!” Gunny yelled at Sebastian as he was walking away.

Sebastian turned around quickly and saw Gunny Smith standing just outside the entrance to his tent. Sebastian walked back to him.

“Van Zandt, if you're concerned about your brother, don't be; he can handle himself.”

“You know my brother?” Sebastian asked, surprised.

“Yes. I never thought to mention it before, but I met him in Iraq back in 2004. We fought together in Fallujah.”

“You were with him in Fallujah?” Sebastian asked. He had never known this and was even more shocked by Gunny's bringing it up.

“Yes, I knew him for a very short period, but in that short time he proved to be a very capable Marine and NCO. I know your brother will be fine; he will have no problem taking care of himself and his family. He'll do what is necessary now, just like he did in Fallujah.”

“I hear ya, Gunny. I just feel like we need to be with our families and protecting them now. I'm a faithful Marine, but my family is important to me,” Sebastian said.

“Like I said, there are others who feel the way you do and have expressed these concerns with just as much passion, but unless our orders change, we must push forward.”

“I know, Gunny. Thanks again and thank you for mentioning my brother. I do feel better now that we've talked,” Sebastian said.

“Not a problem. We're a big family here too and we must take care of our Marines when they have a legitimate issue or concern,” Gunny said, placing his hand on Sebastian's shoulder and patting it.

Sebastian turned around and walked away. He really did feel better knowing that the Gunny knew his brother and appreciated his affirming that Gordon was very capable. However, the conversation didn't relieve his overall issue with the new mission. As he walked back to his tent, an unfamiliar, unexpected thought popped into his mind. Should he abandon his unit and find a way home?

Tinker Air Force Base, Oklahoma

“Sir, based upon mounting evidence and credible intelligence, we have concluded that Washington, D.C., has been destroyed and all remnants of our government there has gone with it. At this time, it is monumentally important that we maintain continuity,” Griswald explained, placing his pointer down on the table in front of him.

“What do you mean, General?” Conner asked.

“Sir, our intelligence indicates that both the president and vice president were killed in this morning's attacks. We must get you sworn in as soon as possible and transport you immediately to a secure underground bunker.”

“General, before you go any further, I need to be excused for a moment. Where's the closest bathroom?” Conner stood up, overwhelmed by this staggering revelation.

“Just down the hall, sir, on the left,” an Air Force officer answered.

“Thank you, I'll be back in a few.” Conner stepped away from the table and walked quickly to the door. He pushed it open and made his way as quickly as he could to the bathroom. He went inside the bathroom and called out to make sure he was alone. He opened all the stall doors to double check. Once comfortable that he was truly alone, he walked to the sink and turned on the cold tap. He cupped a handful of water and splashed it on his face. After a few more splashes, he stared into the mirror at his own reflection. As he watched the water drip down his face, he noticed dark circles under his bloodshot eyes.

“Oh my God,” he said to himself, unable to break his gaze into the mirror. The weight of everything that had happened over the past eight hours was unbelievable. It felt surreal. He reached over and grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and dried his face and hands. He then paced around the empty bathroom for a minute before he approached the mirror again. He bent over, grabbed the sides of the sink, and stared at his reflection again and said, “Brad, pull yourself together. Your country needs you. Be the leader you know you can be. You have a responsibility to lead this nation. Stop freaking out and pull it together.”

He stood up straight, taking a final glance at himself, then left the bathroom. When he walked back into the briefing room, all conversation halted and everyone looked over to him.

“General Griswald, I need you to coordinate a team to go retrieve my wife and my son's body from St. Anthony's hospital. Once they are secure, we shall leave.”

“Yes, sir, but can we swear you in now?”

“Not until your team gets my wife. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Griswald turned to his aide and shot him a commanding look. The aide jumped up and left the room, followed by Agent Davis.

“Please keep me briefed on my wife's situation at all times. I have another request, General. Go find a judge and get me a Bible.”

San Diego, California

As soon as Jimmy made the turn into the Ralph's parking lot, he and Gordon could see the crowd gathered outside and commotion erupting. As they drove closer, they could see people hauling items, pushing full shopping carts out of the store.

“Looks like the word has gotten out,” Jimmy said aloud.

“Yes it does,” Gordon replied, nodding his head in agreement. “Listen, I don't feel safe leaving the one and only operational vehicle out in the open. Pull up over there and I'll go see what I can get inside by myself,” Gordon told Jimmy, pointing over to an area in the parking lot that had few cars and few people.

As he slowly weaved around parked cars toward the area Gordon indicated, Jimmy noticed many in the crowd looking and pointing at the truck. He felt uneasy and was now glad Gordon had given him the gun.

“Make sure you park in a spot that you don't have to back out of,” Gordon recommended, pointing to a spot next to a line of shopping carts.

“Good idea,” Jimmy said as he took a left into the spot.

“I don't know how long I'll be. With all this going on it might be hard to get what we need,” Gordon said while checking his cash and gun and grabbing his pack. He opened the truck door and stepped down. Before closing the door behind him, he bent over, looked into the car, and said, “Stay frosty, my friend.”

“Stay frosty?” Jimmy asked.

“It means stay alert,” Gordon said and shut the door. He grabbed a cart and started running toward the front of the store. People all around rushed in and out of the store. Some people were pushing full carts; others just were running out with arms full of groceries. He pushed his cart directly into the crowd and pushed his way through. After a minute of pushing and elbows he made it inside. He stopped, put on his headlamp, and headed for the canned food area.

Inside, people were running all around, groceries were all over the floors, and people were yelling and screaming. Gordon ignored the commotion and went directly for the aisle he needed. Once he reached the canned food section, he saw that many of the shelves had been stripped, but not completely bare. Not wanting to waste any time, Gordon started to toss in whatever he could get his hands on.

He made his way down the aisle and cleared what he could. His makeshift plan was to fill up the cart, go back to Jimmy at the car, leave the cart for Jimmy to unload, grab a new cart, and do it all over again. What was becoming more problematic every passing moment was the setting sun on the horizon. Gordon was getting a bit concerned for Jimmy outside by himself. He followed his plan and with no altercation he left the store and dropped off the cart.

He grabbed a new cart and made his way back into the store, keeping aware of his surroundings as best he could in the semidarkness. He heard people falling into shelves and displays as they stumbled through the store with no light, tripping over loose cans and other items dropped by previous looters. He remembered judging people he'd seen on TV, looting stores after natural disasters. He felt a bit hypocritical, but this was a life-or-death situation.

Four trips later, the truck was filling but the store had been all but stripped bare. The sun was very low on the horizon now and Gordon knew it was time to get home.

“Well, I better start to like canned corn,” Jimmy said, looking at all the Ralph's brand canned corn piled in the bed of his truck.