Another 20 Miles Read online

  "You think someone would try to steal them?" Carly asked, shocked. "Right outside the house?"

  Joel nodded. "I do, and tomorrow I'm going to figure out a way to secure them to keep that from happening. If anybody is going to eat them, it's going to be us."

  Lauri had a look of horror on her face. "Joel! You can't be serious! Eat one of the girls? I don't think I can do that. I mean, I like chicken as well as anybody, but I raised them from hatchlings. I never planned to eat them."

  "What were you going to do when they stopped laying?" he asked.

  Shrugging her shoulders, Lauri replied, "I guess watch them turn gray and die. Do chickens turn gray?"

  Joel chuckled. "I doubt it. So, you were just going to keep feeding them even when they stopped providing food for us, right? That's not real practical, honey. They aren't pets. They are livestock. They're food that makes food; and when they stop making food, they need to move on to the next phase, which should be pretty soon. We've had them for, what, close to three years now? Chickens have about a thousand eggs in them. They should be winding down. When we figure out how to get to Elliott's, we're not going to be able to take them with us. We'll have a lot more important stuff to go. You might want to think about giving them to someone here."

  Lauri's sad look tugged at Joel's heart. Still, common sense told him they would have plenty enough to worry about without adding hauling chickens around to the mix. He leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. "We'll talk more about that later. Will took Amanda to show her to a room. As soon as I get back, we'll all settle in for the night. I think I'll go ahead and relieve myself while I'm out there."

  Now Lauri looked shocked. "What? You're going to pee outside? What if someone sees you?"

  Joel laughed. "Darlin', no one is going to see me. It's pitch black outside and there are no street lights. Be back in a jiff." He donned his coat and boots and opened the back door. A blast of frigid air hit him in the face.

  Pushing the door almost closed, he turned to his wife and said, "On second thought, I'll wait until I get back inside to do that. No sense freezing my willy off if I don't have to." He quickly opened the door and stepped outside, as the sound of his wife and daughter laughing followed him out into the dark, icy night.

  By the time Joel got back inside, the dishes were done and the lantern in the kitchen was turned down low, obviously waiting for him to return. After removing his outerwear, he picked up the lantern and went straight to the bathroom, then into the living room when he was done. Will was on the floor already asleep. Carly was snuggling into her blankets. Lauri was standing beside his recliner holding a pillow and afghan, apparently for him. The sad look had returned to her face. He took the bedding from her, laid it in the chair, and put his arms around her waist. She leaned in to him, laying her head on his chest. They stood like that for a few moments, bathed in the glow from the fire, its crackling and popping not quite covering the sound of Will's deep sleep breathing. Lauri spoke softly into her husband's chest.

  "Joel, I'm scared."

  He leaned back so he could see her face. "Of what?"

  Staring up at him, she replied, "Everything. This new … whatever this is. No more electricity. Soon no running water. I don't know how to live that life, Joel. We aren't in any shape to walk everywhere we go or do physical labor all day to survive. Who knows how long I'll even last with my sleep apnea and no cpap. What happens when our blood pressure medicine is gone, not to mention the rest of our medications? What do we do if someone gets hurt? Look at what happened to Will today. Someone pointed a gun at him. They could have shot him right there, and there would have been no way to get him to a hospital. He could be dead! I just —"

  "Okay, okay, take a breath," Joel said, pulling her back to him. "Will is fine. We're all fine. We'll figure it all out. Not tonight though. Tonight, we get a good night's sleep — well, as good as you can without your machine — and we'll sit down in the morning and go through our supplies. We'll make lists of things we need, and we'll do the best we can, honey. That's all we can do at this point. Tonight, we have both of our kids safe with us. Tomorrow we'll start working on getting to our grandsons, too. Deal?"

  She squeezed him tightly around the waist, then stepped back to look him in the eye. Voice full of resolve, she said, "Deal. Good night, love."

  He rubbed the side of her face with his stubbly cheek, then turned to kiss her on the lips. "Sweet dreams, sweetheart."

  He watched as she walked down the hall with the lantern. With a big yawn, he settled into his chair. Yep, tomorrow is the day the real work begins. He fell asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.

  Chapter 4

  President Olstein was at his desk in the bunker, jotting down thoughts so he wouldn't forget anything he felt was important. Vanessa knocked on the door and stuck her head in.

  "Will there be anything else, Sir? If not, I'm going to try to get a few hours’ sleep."

  Olstein looked up from his notes. "Oh, okay. What time is it anyway? It's hard to tell down here."

  "A little past midnight. It's been a long day." As if to prove her point, she hid a yawn behind her hand.

  "Yes, that's fine, but I want to get started early in the morning. We don't seem to have made any progress today. We're no more in control of this situation than we were when it happened early this morning. I think the joint chiefs are stalling on recalling the troops. We have to get order restored as quickly as possible." He looked down at his paper and added another line item to his list. Looking up at her, he continued. "As soon as you can tomorrow, get an update from all of them as to where we are in that process. I'd also like to get information on how the police are handling things across the nation, particularly in the larger cities."

  Shaking her head, Vanessa replied, "Sir, we have no way to contact the police. We have some communications, but they don't have any. We will have to physically go to each city and see what is going on, although I'm pretty sure the majority of them are home with their own families trying to find food and heat. Most of the country was hit with a pretty major winter storm this week, which, by the way, should be getting here any time. Without snow plows the streets will be largely impassible, even with the Humvees. New York, Philadelphia, the cities further north will be harder hit. The storm was supposed to sweep the Eastern seaboard, and it was moving very slowly. People will probably be snowed into their homes."

  Olstein smiled. "Well, that could be fortuitous. Fewer people out getting into trouble." Pausing at the thought, he went on. "I'm not sure I agree with your assessment as to whether or not the police are on duty. Surely, they know how much their services will be needed now. They have an obligation to their communities. They took an oath to protect and serve."

  Vanessa walked into the room and sat in a chair opposite the president. "How can they do that, Sir? Their squad cars don't run; fire engines and ambulances are in the same boat. There are no phones, no radios, no communications at all. Are you expecting them to walk the streets looking for crimes in action?"

  Voice full of frustration, Olstein retorted, "So, what, we just sink into anarchy? Is that what you're telling me I should be planning for? A nation of lawlessness?"

  Vanessa shrugged. "In the beginning, yes, I think that's exactly what we'll have. Right now, we have control of the capital. Troops have been pulled from every base close to us and deployed around the city. However, no more troops than we had in the vicinity, that's about the extent of our security."

  "Which is the exact reason we need to bring all our deployed service members home! We need to do that across the country!"

  "I hear what you're saying, Sir, but you didn't let me finish. Best guess is at least twenty percent of the actives in the area are AWOL. Whether they were on leave when everything went down or left when they figured out this was something big is anyone's guess. And it could be more. Without computers and sentry reports, we just don't know exactly who is missing."

  "I don't care if we have to compi
le lists by hand for every single active soldier. I want to know who is AWOL, and I want the MPs looking for them ASAP! This is unacceptable!" Olstein slammed his fist on the desk in anger.

  Vanessa jumped slightly at the unexpected sound. "Yes, sir. So, you want me to pull whatever MPs are currently guarding the city to go looking for missing soldiers. Is that a correct assessment of what you just said?"

  "Well, I … um … no … no, we don't need to pull anyone off their security detail. I mean, you already insinuated we were short-handed in that area …" Olstein was back-pedaling so fast Vanessa thought she could almost see his legs moving under his desk.

  Hiding a smile, she said, "Yes, and we haven't even begun to assess the needs of other cities across the country, though we know they will be enormous. Best guess from people smarter than me is that society is already dissolving everywhere. Within three days, most of the food in the major cities will be gone for the most part, either consumed or hoarded up for later. Even looting the grocery stores won't extend that, as they count on regular deliveries to maintain their stock pretty much daily. By tomorrow, the shelves will be bare everywhere — at least in the big cities. Smaller rural areas may fare better, at least for a while. Those people have experienced service outages that didn't get fixed within thirty minutes to an hour and are better prepared. But even they aren't prepared for something like this." She stood, stretched, yawned again, and headed for the door. Placing her hand on the knob, she turned back to him and said, "None of us are prepared for something like this, Mr. President. We do indeed have a lot of work ahead of us. It's hard to fathom everything we are going to have to deal with in the coming weeks and months. Death, disease, starvation— it's enough to drive you crazy thinking about what our country will become. You might think about getting to sleep as well. You're going to need it. Night, Sir."

  Vanessa walked out and closed the door behind her. Olstein sat staring at the door. "This is going to be a nightmare," he said aloud. "Maybe that little weasel didn't do me any favors after all." He picked up the battery-powered lantern and, heaving a sigh, headed for his sleeping quarters.

  ~~~~~

  Phil Roman was lying on the cot he kept in his office. Many of the senators and House representatives had some sort of sleeping apparatuses in their offices. Phil was glad he was one of them, given the circumstances. He was pretty sure it would be home for the foreseeable future.

  As he lay there, trying to get to sleep, he couldn't stop the torrent of thoughts crashing through his mind. First and foremost was his family. His wife and children were home in Wisconsin. There was plenty of food in the house that should last them a while. He had teased his wife often about how much food they had, telling her they could live off it for a year without having to buy more. When the other utilities started to go down though, food would be the least of their worries. He knew, and had taught his family, how to collect snow and process it for safe drinking. They'd be covered for water for the next few months. After that, if he hadn't found a way to get home, he didn't know how they would fare. They were stranded five miles outside the city with no running cars. He was sure the snowmobiles with the electric starters were as useless as every other modern vehicle now. Worst of all, he had no way to contact them to find out if they were okay. Knowing there was nothing he could do just then in their regard, he tried to steer his thoughts to work matters.

  He wondered how Everley's man was fairing on his mission. Had he reached New York yet? If so, was he able to find Tanner? As if his thoughts had sparked a telekinetic link, his sat phone rang. It was Everley.

  "Charles, I was just thinking about you and your appointee. Any word?"

  "I just got off the phone with him. He's camping at a Guard armory for the night. He wasn't too keen on going into New York City at night. I don't blame him a bit." Everley paused for a moment. "Do we know where Tanner is or should be? I'd like to give him an idea, so he can go straight there in the morning. Fewer stops, less chance for trouble."

  "He should be at his penthouse. I talked to him Friday and he said he was home until after Christmas. It will be interesting to find out how fit your major is," Roman said, chuckling at the end.

  "What do you mean?"

  "The penthouse is on the fifty-eighth floor of that tower. That's a lot of flights of stairs."

  "Shit," Everley replied. "I forgot about that. Sorley has a bum leg from an IED. But he's tough. That's one of the reasons I picked him. He won't let it stop him. It just might take him a little longer."

  Somberly, Roman said, "Sorry. I didn't mean to make light of the situation. I think I'm just overtired. It's been one hell of a day."

  "Don't worry about it. And, yes, it has. Olstein called me raising hell because we aren't bringing the troops home fast enough to suit him. I don't think he understands the scope of a move like that. He thinks we're dragging our feet."

  "You are, aren't you?" Roman asked. "If you aren't, you should be."

  "Well, yeah, but even if we weren't, we couldn't make it happen overnight. We have to stall long enough for Sorley to get Tanner back here."

  "What about the other Joint Chiefs? They don't know about the mission, right?"

  "No, no one knows but the three of us at the moment. I just told them to hold off until they hear from me Monday before they start issuing any troop movement orders. But as soon as Sorley has him on the way to D.C., I'm telling them the rest of it. We'll need everybody on board for what will come next," Everley said. "It's going to get ugly, Phil."

  Roman closed his eyes as he replied, "I don't think we can even imagine the depth of how ugly it will be, Charles. Olstein is going to come unglued when he sees Tanner live and in person in front of him. I truly believe he thought as long as the president-elect wasn't in D.C. he could hold on to the presidency. We know it's absurd — and a bit insane — but in his mind, it apparently makes perfect sense. The moment he doesn't step down, he will be arrested by Secret Service. Technically, he's a usurper at that point. Right now, Olstein thinks his Secret Service detail is completely loyal to him. He's wrong. They're loyal to their paycheck. The federal government pays them, not the president. Come to think of it, I'm not really sure how any of us are going to get paid, but that's a discussion for another day when my brain hasn't shut down for the night."

  Everley took the hint. "Right, right … it is getting late. Okay, we'll talk in the morning. Night, Phil."

  "Good night, Charles. If anything changes during the night, don't hesitate to call."

  "Will do. Sleep well."

  "I'll settle for sleep of any kind tonight. You do the same." Roman clicked off the call. Laying the phone on the floor beside him, he reached up and turned off the lantern on the side table. Despite the thoughts still running through his mind, he fell asleep relatively quickly.

  Everley wasn't so fortunate. The weight of the responsibility of over a million service men and women — two million counting the reserves — was a heavy burden. Granted, they didn't all fall under his direct command, but the branches worked closely together during times of war. And the country was definitely at war — whether the president wanted to admit it or not. Sadly, this war would be fought abroad and at home. Abroad, the enemy was easy to spot. North Korea and whoever helped them attack the country. At home, it would be the good people against the bad; the ones who would do harm to get what they wanted or needed from the ones who had the supplies. He just didn't know who was going to be on which side of that fight — including the president.

  Monday, December 21st

  Chapter 5

  Damon woke up to the smell of coffee. His bad leg was throbbing from the sedentary hours he had spent in the Humvee the day before. He figured there was a fifty-fifty chance whether the leg or the coffee aroma was the thing that actually woke him. The sun wasn't up yet, so he fished a flashlight out of his pack which was stowed under the cot where he had slept. The tactical light was extremely bright and lit up the room, waking the other occupants in the process
. Two other National Guardsmen sat up, immediately looking around for the source. Shielding their eyes as they peered in Damon's direction, one of them barked, "Stow the torch, Sorley! We have lanterns and they won't blind your ass!" He reached over and turned on a battery-powered lamp, casting the room in a much softer glow.

  Damon switched off the flashlight. "Sorry, Hutch. I didn't want to take the chance of tripping over somebody or something in the dark. I didn't get a good look at the place last night before I passed out."

  Captain Chris Hutchinson, Hutch to everyone who knew him, swung his legs over the side of his cot and set his booted feet on the floor. "It's fine. We needed to get up anyway. Perez, get your carcass out of that rack!" He threw his pillow across the room at another Guardsman. First Sergeant Marco Perez raised up, looked around the room, then stuck the extra pillow under his head and closed his eyes again. Hutch stood up and started toward Perez. At the sound of the booted feet coming his way, Perez jumped up and held the pillow straight out in front of him toward Hutch.

  "Just making sure your pillow hadn't lost any of its … uh … fluffiness in the trip across the room, Captain. You're good to go."

  Hutch crossed his arms and glared at Perez. "And what makes you think I want that back after your head has been on it? I know you haven't showered for at least two days."

  Perez rubbed his hand across the stubble on his head and grinned. "No hair, so no stank, Cap'n." There were muffled snickers from the other side of the room.

  Hutch raised an eyebrow at Perez then snatched the pillow away from him. He held it up to his face and sniffed it. Apparently satisfied, he turned without a word and took it over and tossed it on his bunk. He looked at Damon and said, "You can leave your gear here for now. Let's get some of that coffee and talk." Damon nodded and fell in beside the captain. He was pretty sure the man wanted his story. He was under orders not to relay the details of his mission; but after his experiences so far on the trip, he wasn't sure if he could complete his mission alone. What he had seen and dealt with so far would be nothing compared to the insanity that would be New York City; he was sure of that. He had a decision to make and he didn't know yet what it was going to be.