The End (34 page)

“Simone, it's Gordon,” he called out.

No response.

He called out again, “Simone, it's Gordon; where are you?” Not hearing a response, he ran upstairs to where he had left them. They were not there. He looked in every room upstairs and couldn't find her.

Then he realized there was one place he hadn't looked; the backyard. His concerns were put to rest when he looked out the kitchen window. There, he saw her kneeling on the ground next to a shallow, freshly dug hole.

Opening the door to the back, he said, “Simone?”

She did not respond. She just rocked back and forth. He could hear her mumbling words, but they were unintelligible. Walking up behind her, he glanced into the grave and saw Jimmy wrapped in a bloody white sheet. For some reason, Gordon took note that the grave was very wide, wide enough to fit two people.

“Simone?” he said again, this time touching her shoulder.

Jumping at his touch, she turned around.

“Hi, Gordon; you're just in time. Do you want something to drink?”

“What? Umm, no. Simone, do you want me to help you finish burying Jimmy before everyone comes over for the ceremony?”

“No, that won't be necessary,” she answered. She glanced back to the grave and stared at Jimmy. Her voice seemed oddly calm and subdued.

“I need to get you back to our house and cleaned up before we come back here for your stuff and Jimmy's funeral.”

“That won't be necessary,” she replied. She stood up and said, “Follow me.”

Gordon just looked at her strangely; he had seen shock before but her behavior was different.

She led him to the garage and pointed to a wooden box on the work bench.

“I heard what he whispered to you, so while you were gone I fished it out for you. Jimmy loved to hide things but I always knew about them.” She opened the box and held the lantern above the opened box so Gordon could see its contents. Peering in, he saw several tall bottles and two smaller boxes.

“What is it?” Gordon asked.

“Go ahead,” she said, motioning to the box.

Gordon reached in and pulled out a bottle of Macallan thirty-year-old single malt scotch.

“The other two are the same; the two small boxes are little humidors with Cuban cigars. He knew you'd appreciate this, but wanted to surprise you once we arrived in Idaho. Now that won't happen,” Simone said, then put the cover back on the box.

“Simone, I am so sorry. I wish I could have made it here quicker—”

“Don't say any more; you did what you could. It's just fate. First Mason, now Jimmy; we weren't meant to survive this for whatever reason. God knows I can't figure it out, but there's a reason; it's either that or we're just unlucky,” Simone said with a slight smile.

“We don't have a lot of time, so let's get you home.”

“Gordon, I'm not going with you. I'm staying here with my family.”

“That's crazy. You have to come with us.”

Simone placed her hand on Gordon's arm and said calmly, “Gordon, everything you need from us as far as food and supplies is here in the garage. I took anything you could use and put it out here. There will be no need to go into the house, do you understand?”

“This is crazy talk, Simone, you're coming with us; I promised Jimmy.”

She grabbed his hand and looked at him deeply. “Gordon, I have lost everything. My life has lost all meaning. What is there to live for? My life was them.”

Gordon pleaded, “Please don't do this! This is not what Jimmy would want.”

“Gordon, go. Please go. And when you return, don't come inside the house, do you understand?”

“Just wait, let me get Samantha; let me have her talk to you.”

“I've made up my mind; I am very clear about this. Please kiss Samantha and the kids for me,” Simone said. Letting go of Gordon's arm, she turned and walked inside. He could hear the dead bolt lock behind her after she closed the door.

He was in total shock. He couldn't move. He stood frozen, staring at the door. Knowing how influential Samantha was, he quickly left to go get her. Simone looked determined but Samantha could help. The sound of the single gunshot stopped him in his tracks. He knew what she had done and wished it could have gone differently. In one night, two of his closest friends were dead, his son had shot someone, and their life in Rancho Valentino was over for good.

USS
Makin Island
off the coast of Southern California

When the door to the brig opened, Gunny was the last person Sebastian thought he'd see.

“Corporal Van Zandt, stand up! You're coming with me, shit bird,” Gunny said in his scratchy voice.

Sebastian didn't hesitate; he stood up and followed Gunny. As they were walking, Sebastian noticed how empty the passageways were. Many questions came to mind at first but he thought it not worth it to ask. One passageway after another was devoid of life. He wasn't sure where Gunny was taking him, and the further they walked the more concerned he got. After ten minutes of walking, they finally made it to their destination. Gunny opened the hatch and motioned for Sebastian to exit.

Stopping before he crossed the threshold, he turned to Gunny and said, “Gunny, if you're taking me out here to kill me, just let me know. I hate surprises.”

“No one is going to kill you, now get your dumb ass out here.”

Sebastian took Gunny for a man of his word and stepped out onto the deck. The sun was attempting to make an appearance, but the clouds and fog were keeping its rays at bay. Looking around, he tried to get a fix on where the ship was, but the fog was too thick.

“Where are we?” Sebastian asked.

“Corporal Van Zandt, I like you. I have known you for over a year and I have seen a squared-away Marine. You're a damn good sniper and a good NCO, but you let your emotions get the better of you. Do you know what I am saying?”

Sebastian tried to answer, but Gunny continued to talk.

“Van Zandt, I understand your dilemma. I know you look at all the bullshit and wonder what it's all for. Well, I can say that there's a lot of bullshit in the Marine Corps. I've seen it, but in the end we are an institution of men who come together because we have common values. Now the world has dealt us, meaning the United States, a shit sandwich. Listen, son, the U.S. is fucked, period. I don't know how it survives this; but just because our country falls doesn't mean we have to. I know you don't like the colonel, but he has given us all a chance to make it through this. Now, you could have been a piece in this survival puzzle but no, you had to open your mouth and get stupid. Now look at ya, Corporal. In a nutshell, you're going to get what you wanted. We are leaving San Diego in a week. Once the last of our men is done gathering their family members, we will dump the garbage, meaning you, on the beach. You will be given a weapon, a few magazines, a few MREs, and some water. Then you're on your own. What you don't know is this: you will have two total shit storms to deal with on your hunt for your brother. First, the nuclear reactors at San Onofre have melted down. Second, there is some renegade Mexican militia conquering parts of San Diego. Now, if you manage to make it to your brother's place, you might find him already dead or gone. You'll not only have to deal with two fucked-up situations, but you'll have a million starving San Diegans trying to kill you for a scrap of food. The moral of the story, Van Zandt, is that you should keep your mouth shut. Your chance of survival out there on your own is not high, but let this be a lesson to you.”

Sebastian's mind just went blank listening to Gunny bloviate. He thought many times that Gunny liked to hear himself talk. He wondered if now might be a good time to be honest with him and tell him to fuck himself. He decided against being honest. If he wanted to get some kind of advantage from Gunny, then he should take his advice and keep his mouth shut.

“Thank you for the words of advice, Gunny.”

“You're welcome, Corporal, now let's get your ass back down below.”

“One second, why did you take me up here?”

“I thought I'd show you something but the fog isn't cooperating.”

“What's out there?”

“San Diego, San Diego is right there,” Gunny said, pointing over the railing into the fog.

Sebastian leaned forward in hopes of getting a glimpse, but nothing.

“Let's go,” Gunny ordered.

Sebastian kept staring, hoping to see something.

“Let's go, Corporal,” Gunny said, sounding impatient.

Giving up, Sebastian turned and started to walk back to the hatch. Right before he stepped in he saw something out of the corner of his right eye. He stopped and looked; a break in the fog exposed the hidden city behind it. He kept staring until a landmark that was unmistakable appeared: the Hyatt Towers stood darkened in the distance. The fog continued to clear and more of the city became visible. Sebastian could make out the outline of the buildings but not a single light was visible. The city was completely dark.

“We made it, we're in San Diego!” Sebastian exclaimed.

“That's correct, Corporal, that's San Diego; we made it home.”

Sebastian stood looking at the skyline of the darkened city. His journey had taken thousands of miles and had forever changed his position within the Marine Corps. When the ships pulled away in a few days, he would no longer be a Marine, he would be a survivor left alone to fend for himself in this new wilderness.

Anza, California (Eighty-nine miles outside of San Diego)

As the sun began its descent on what had been a long day, Gordon was happy that he and his convoy of five vehicles had driven the distance they had. Taking the smaller state highways they had been able to avoid the congestion of abandoned vehicles and the droves of wandering people. He also had pushed his convoy as far east as he thought was safe, but now he was at a crossroads. He and Nelson had been discussing which way to go. Their convoy sat at the intersection of Highway 371 and Highway 74. Right would lead them into Palm Desert, and left would lead them into the mountains. The mountain pass was risky because they could find themselves snowed in. But the route into Palm Desert provided risks, too. It took them through a populated urban area, something he wanted to avoid. Nelson thought it best to go through Palm Desert, as he felt the chance of wintry weather could cost them a vehicle.

Gordon finally let his instincts reveal the direction, and that was toward the desert. Nelson was happy with the decision and away they went down the long, car-less highway. As they headed east, Gordon looked in the side mirror and saw the sun just above the mountains. He thought of his brother, Sebastian; they had taken short trips to Palm Springs in the past. He hoped his brother was okay. He wondered if they had been victims of the same fate and were now stuck in Afghanistan. He wondered if he'd ever see his brother again. Just before he departed his house, he had left a note for Sebastian on his desk. He figured the odds of him finding it were slim, but if by chance he made it back to the States, Gordon knew Sebastian would go looking for him, and going to the house would be a good place to start.

Looking again in his side mirror, he noticed the sun had disappeared. It was now hidden by a dark set of clouds over the mountains. Gordon now felt good about his decision to head east, as the clouds to the west portended bad weather in the mountains.

“Look what I found in Jimmy's stuff,” Nelson said, pulling out an old cassette player.

“Does it work?” Gordon asked. He looked amused at the sight of the old player.

“Shit, man, I never checked. I just grabbed it when I saw it. There was also a case with old cassettes,” Nelson said, picking out a cassette tape. He put it in the player and hit play. The player sprang to life with the soft, subtle strumming sounds of a banjo.

“What is this?” Gordon asked. At first he thought it was some type of bluegrass music, but there was something Irish in the sound.

“Flogging Molly is the name of the band. The song's called, ‘The Sun Never Shines on Closed Doors.' You want me to change it?”

“No, I kinda like it. It's soothing and almost fitting for our journey,” Gordon said.

Both men sat and listened to the music, neither saying a word.

With the clouds to their backs and clear skies ahead, Gordon thought again of everything that had taken place over the past five weeks. In that short time, the city he called home had collapsed into chaos after suffering an attack that destroyed its power grid and made useless all electrical devices. Misery, suffering, and death caused by starvation, disease, and murder had now become the norm for the survivors left in San Diego. For those able to leave, now was the time. For those who stayed, their lives or what days they had left would be marked by horrors not seen in centuries. Reflecting on all of this, Gordon drove into the darkness and the unknown with hopes that a brighter and more hopeful day existed at the end of the long road.

Olympia, Washington, Republic of Cascadia

“We have definitely covered a lot so far,” John said, looking at his pad. He had been taking diligent notes the entire time.

“I'd like to take a break, if you don't mind?” Haley asked.

“Of course.”

“Can I get you and your people a cup of tea or coffee?” Haley asked as she stood up.

The two photographers declined her offer, but John asked for tea.

While Haley was preparing the tea in the kitchen, John walked around her house. He slowly took his time looking at the myriad of framed photographs she had hung along the wall in the hallway. As he examined each one to see if there was anyone of note in them, one caught his eye. It was a photo of Gordon dressed in an old camouflage uniform surrounded by others in similar dress. They were all holding up a worn “Doug” flag. The blue, white, and green striped flag had the words, “First Idaho Infantry, Republic of Cascadia” hand-sewn across the white field that stretched from one end to the other. The Douglas fir emblazoned in the center was faded and showed wear that can only come from war.

He pulled the photo off the wall and walked into the kitchen to get more information on it. The kitchen was empty. He walked into the adjacent room and there he found Haley holding what looked like a necklace.

His abrupt entry into the room startled her, causing her to drop the necklace.

John was curious about what she had, so he stepped forward and picked it up for her. He looked at it and saw that it was a silver compass attached to a silver chain.

“Here,” he said as he handed it to her.

“Thank you,” Haley responded. She took it quickly and placed it back in a small chest located on a bookshelf. She looked disturbed that John had touched it.

“May I ask what that was?” John asked.

“My brother gave it to me,” Haley said, not looking at him. She still had her hand on the chest.

“I didn't know you had a brother until you mentioned him today,” John stated, looking confused.

Ignoring John's comment, she asked, “So what do you want to discuss in our next session?”

Taking note that she deliberately didn't comment about her brother, he said, “I want to talk about your time in Idaho.”

Haley turned around and faced him.

“Our years in Idaho were some of the best I can remember. Even though the war started not long after the lights went out, I was inoculated from what was happening. We were safe in Idaho. Although the same cannot be said about the journey there, or as Daddy referred to it, ‘the long road.' Something happened that changed us all.” Haley paused and looked back toward the necklace on the shelf. She reached over and touched it. She then looked back at John and said, “I would like to talk about that next.”