The End (6 page)

“Marines, I am not going to stand here and bullshit you. You know me well enough to know I am a plain-spoken Marine. I tell it like it is. I don't sugarcoat it. I don't glaze it over.” Barone began walking back and forth in front of the assembled Marines. “So I will tell you right now that our mission here has ended, effective immediately.”

The Marines of 2/4 all started looking to one another for clarification. They still had four more months on their deployment, so they all knew something significant must have happened.

Barone stopped his pacing to drop the real news. “Marines, initial reports suggest our country has suffered a massive attack. What we do know is coming from assets we have in the air over the country. The intelligence we have received so far indicates that some type of nuclear event has occurred. One struck Washington, D.C., and another device detonated in the atmosphere above the Midwest. It also appears that major communications are down with our allies in Europe and Asia.”

Sebastian was in shock. His mind immediately raced to Gordon, Samantha, and the kids. He couldn't believe it, the bastards had done it; they had finally done it, they had gone nuclear.

Barone continued on, “Marines, it has not been confirmed. Let me say it again, this has not been confirmed, but with the nuclear attack on our Capitol, our commander in chief, the president, the vice president, and the entire Congress may be among the casualties. If this is indeed the case, our enemies have effectively cut the head off of our government. At this moment, we are operating under procedures put into place in anticipation of a situation like this. Marines, it appears that we are in the midst of World War Three. We do not yet know who actually orchestrated the attack, but I can tell you this, we will find out and when we do, they will have to face the United States Marine Corps!”

Some Marines started yelling “Ooh Rah!” in response to Barone's address.

“Marines, we have to clear out of Afghanistan immediately. We have birds coming in tomorrow morning at zero-six-hundred. They will take us to ships positioned in the Arabian Sea. From there, we'll sail to the East Coast of the United States and assist with the search and rescue efforts around Washington, D.C.”

He looked around at all the Marines in front of him and then continued.

“Marines, I know all of you are concerned for your family members back home. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, too, but we have a mission; we are United States Marines and we must not fail. Our country needs us now more than ever! We must be vigilant. Tonight, pack your gear and be ready to depart this wasteland tomorrow!”

Barone walked back to his position centered on the battalion, stood at attention and yelled, “Battalion attention!”

Master Sergeant Simpson walked around Barone until he faced him, and then saluted.

Barone saluted back and said, “Top, give final instructions to the company first sergeants and get these Marines prepared to ship out at zero-six-hundred tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” Simpson replied.

Barone finished his salute and walked away.

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

“Nurse! Nurse!” Brad Conner yelled down the darkened hall of the hospital. The power was out everywhere, but most disturbingly the power was off to his son's life support system.

The stress was visible on Conner's face as he continued yelling for assistance, receiving no response. All he could see was hospital staff scrambling in the partial darkness, frantic and confused. Other voices echoed from rooms up and down the ICU wing.

“Bobby, it will be all right,” Julia Conner whispered to her son, who lay motionless in the hospital bed. Tears streamed down her face. “Brad, anything? Is anyone coming? What happened to the power?”

Conner turned and looked back at his wife. “It will be okay, the emergency generators will kick on any minute.” He started to fear the worst, but kept telling her that everything would be fine, even though he was concerned. The pain on Julia's face was something he'd never seen. Her dark brown hair hung down covering her fine features. She was always put together, never one to be seen without her hair done or makeup on outside of the house. Julia always wore the best in clothing and had maintained an attractive figure throughout her life.

He allowed a few more moments to pass without any hospital staff checking in before storming down the hallway toward the nurse's station. As he approached, it became apparent he would find no help there. What little staff remained was hopelessly trying to see if anything would come on. He overheard several nurses mumbling to themselves that the emergency generators should have come on by now.

“Excuse me,” Conner tried to interject, but no one paid him any attention. “Excuse me!” this time at full volume.

One nurse stopped her conversation with a doctor to shoot back plainly, “Sir, we are working on the issue and will have the power back on very soon.”

“That might be fine for you and me, but my son in room 303 has no life support and I need your assistance now!” He slammed his hand on the counter. “NOW!”

The nurse turned to him, visibly irritated by him and frustrated by the greater situation. She repeated, with attitude in her voice, “Sir, the power will be on soon. We will go check on your son very, very soon.”

“Listen, you don't know who I am; I am the Speaker of the United States House of Representatives. I am not asking you, I am telling you, to go down to room 303 and check on my son, now!”

Her eyes opened wide. She was visibly disturbed by his last statement. “Take me to your son's room.”

She came out from around the counter at the nurse's station and ran beside Conner, down the hall to room 303.

When they entered the room, Julia was sobbing uncontrollably, her head placed against Bobby's limp hand. The nurse immediately approached their son and checked his pulse. She reached over him and grabbed a stethoscope and put it on. She continued checking his vitals, listening intently but hearing nothing. The nurse dropped the stethoscope and ripped open Bobby's hospital gown to administer CPR. Julia, with tears streaming down her face and gripped by fear, sat frozen, watching the nurse desperately try to revive her son. Conner came to her side and put his hands on her shoulders.

The nurse administered CPR for what seemed like forever, pausing every few minutes to check his vitals. Eventually, she ran to the loud and chaotic hallway and yelled, “Dr. Rivera, Dr. Rivera!”

“He's down here in 311!”

“I need him in 303, stat!”

No reply.

The nurse turned back to Bobby. She again checked his vitals and continued the CPR. Another few minutes passed and, after checking Bobby's vitals one last time, she turned to Conner and his wife and whispered, “I am so very sorry.”

“No, no! You keep trying, don't you stop!” Julia screamed hysterically. “That's my only boy there, don't you stop!”

“Ma'am, I have tried; I could give him more CPR but he's gone, there's nothing more I can do,” the nurse replied, her voice subdued and defeated.

“Goddamn you! Get someone else in here who will try,” Julia yelled at the nurse. She turned to her husband, “Brad, goddamn it, do something!”

“Julia, I think he's gone.” Conner said, sadly, to his grieving and hysterical wife. He then lowered his head in sorrow.

“No, no!” she said, hitting her husband in the chest twice. She pushed past him, walking toward the nurse who began to back away, apprehensive about what was coming toward her.

“Get out of my way!” Julia said to the nurse. She then bent over and placed her ear against her son's chest. She started to try to perform CPR herself; it was obvious she did not know what she was doing.

Both the nurse and Conner watched Julia, stunned. Conner stood there for a brief time before motioning for the nurse to leave. He walked over to his wife, who was still unsuccessfully attempting CPR, and placed both arms around her. She tried to shrug him off at first, but eventually gave in and collapsed onto her dead son. The hospital's chaos faded as they sank into their own despair.

Musa Qala, Helmand Province, Afghanistan

“Holy shit, I cannot believe this is happening,” Sebastian said to Lance Corporal Tomlinson while stuffing his sea bag.

“I know; I'm shocked too; I just hope my folks and girlfriend are cool. My parents live up in northeast PA and you know my girl is out in O'side.”

Grabbing more gear and forcing it into his bag, Sebastian said, “Whoever did this needs to die, all of them need to die. I just hope I get them in my scope; I'll fucking kill them.”

“Yep, I hope we get a chance. I want to put one in their nasty grape too,” Tomlinson said.

“I just wish we weren't going to the East Coast. I wish we were going back home. I know my brother will take care of everything but I want to be there to help him. God knows what kind of crazy shit is going on,” Sebastian said.

“What do you mean, bro?” Tomlinson asked, sitting down on his cot next to his half-filled sea bag. He pulled a tin of Copenhagen out and began tapping it. Tomlinson was tall and very thin. He had reddish hair and fair skin. His face was covered in old scars from acne. He didn't take much pride in his appearance. He was the opposite of Sebastian, who made sure he was always squared away and put together.

“Look at what happened to New Orleans after Katrina or what kind of crazy shit happens during blackouts. People go fucking crazy when the lights go out and stay out. There's no law and order. It's a recipe for disaster and mob rule.”

“Really bro, you think people will start going crazy back home?”

“Yes, I do. Most people are idiots, so if there is no power, there is no water, no food, no medical supplies, the list goes on. This is not good. Everything will go south, trust me, and here we are in fucking Afghanistan, heading to the East Coast. We need to be going back home to help our friends and family.”

“You're right, bro. My girlfriend can barely even program the DVR to watch her stupid
House Hookers of Orange County
show. Not to mention she never keeps food in the house,” Tomlinson said with a chuckle.

“Tomlinson, what has happened is bad, very bad. An EMP destroys everything electrical. Millions and millions of people will die and the only way to help our families, friends, and stupid girlfriends is to be there, not all the way on the other coast.” Sebastian was getting himself worked up. He tossed the items he had in his hands onto the cot.

“Well, not much we can do, Van Zandt, we have our orders and it's back east,” Tomlinson stated, shaking his head side to side.

“I know, and I fucking hate it.” Sebastian sat down on his cot, clearly angry and frustrated.

San Diego, California

“The car is dead. The battery still works but the car won't turn over,” Gordon told Samantha as he walked in from the garage.

“So what are we going to do for transportation?” Samantha asked.

“Here's my plan. Right now it's been about two hours since the attack. Most people don't know what's going on, I'm going to take advantage of the ignorance and go to the store and get as much stuff as I can before people start to freak out and clear it out,” Gordon said as he walked toward his office.

“How are you going to get there?” Samantha followed him into his office.

Gordon grabbed his desk chair and positioned it underneath attic space opening. He stood on the chair and pushed it open. Dust and insulation fell onto his face.

“Damn it,” he sputtered in between coughs as he spit out debris. He reached up and fished around till he felt what he was looking for.

“What are you hiding up there?” Samantha asked curiously.

“Something we'll need,” he said, stepping off of the chair and placing an ammo can on his desk. He looked at Samantha, winked, and opened the can.

“Cash? You hid this from me? You never told me you were hiding cash and, by the looks of it, a lot of it.”

“I may not have been prepared for this type of situation, but I prepared for an economic crash. Good thing I was paranoid about that, because now it will at least come in handy until people realize that it has zero value,” Gordon said, pulling out stacks of cash.

“How much do we have?” Samantha asked, picking up a stack and thumbing it like a deck of cards.

“About seventy-five thousand,” he answered.

“What? Where did we get that?”

“It's our retirement money,” he answered, feeling a bit guilty. He had taken it out in October before the markets crashed. With hindsight on his side, his guilt melted away and he felt proud of his decision.

“I knew you were getting nervous, but when were you planning on telling me?” Samantha reached into the can and pulled out another stack.

“I don't know, but does it really matter now? I need to take some cash with me to the store and buy as much as I can,” he said, putting a small stack in his pocket. He put the rest back in the ammo can, closed it, and placed it back in his hiding spot.

“So here's the plan. I'm going to ride my mountain bike to Albertson's. I'm going to wear a pack, attach the basket from the kids' playroom on the front handle bar, and attach the kids' trailer on the back. That will give me a lot of space to bring food and supplies back. What I need from you is to make sure the kids do not use the toilets anymore. And keep this in close proximity,” he said, handing her his favorite Sig Sauer handgun. Then he started for the garage to prepare for his trip.

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

“Excuse me, sir,” the hospital administrator said, looking nervous about interrupting Conner and his wife, who were still sitting next to the bed that held their dead son. But he felt he needed to because the situation in the hospital was deteriorating. He hoped the Speaker could leverage his power and influence to get something done.