Then Came War Read online

  He was by the door when the soldiers opened fire and was protected by the helpless injured around him.

  He sat up, rolling a body away from him. Sitting there, Foster bought the back of his hand to his mouth, raised his knees, laid his head on them and cried.

  What had happened? How did he fail these poor people that had depended on him?

  Their bodies lay strewn about, riddled with bullet holes.

  It had been nothing less than bloodbath.

  A merciless bloodbath.

  “Is anyone alive?” a female voice whispered.

  Foster turned and looked. “Judith?”

  “Foster?”

  With a sob he looked around. “Say something else.”

  “I’m underneath someone.”

  He located her voice to his right. Then he saw a hand peeking out from under the body. By the ring on her finger he clearly recognized the hand as Judith’s.

  Quickly Foster scurried to her and rolled the body from her.

  Judith began to cry.

  Her hands covered her face and her body shook. Like him, she was completely covered in blood, someone else’s blood.

  “Are you hurt?” Foster asked. “Shot?”

  “No. You?”

  “No.”

  “Oh my God, Foster. What happened?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Soldiers came in here and just shot. They just fired.” He helped her sit up. “But we got to get out of here. We have to go.”

  “But where?”

  “I don’t know.” Foster peered around as he helped her to stand. He really didn’t have a clue on where they should go, but he knew staying at the recreation center wasn’t an option.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “We were just going about our normal day when the word came,” George explained to Harry in the local tavern. “In fact, we thought it was just a test of the emergency broadcast system, but it wasn’t.”

  He went on to tell Harry how the first news bulletin was about a small nuclear warhead detonated in Washington DC. It had been pre-planted, and there was no warning. Same thing had happened in London, a pre-planted Nuclear weapon. Everyone in the country thought it was a terror hit until four low flying planes were spotted in New York City, two in Philadelphia and another in Boston.

  All were flying bombs.

  They were bombs that set the sky on fire as they ignited the oxygen and burned all those on the ground.

  People that were farther out suffered pressure injuries which resulted in blindness or brain damage.

  The warnings that something was going to occur on the Eastern cities gave people only a few minutes to seek cover. But it was too late for most of them.

  There was no place that was safe from the oxygen burning bombs.

  “We huddled around the radio listening to the stories of devastation,” George said. “That was Tuesday morning. By afternoon, people in Connecticut and parts of New Jersey were claiming they heard explosions that sounded like loud pops in the sky. Everyone assumed it was paranoia until everyone got ill. Fast too.”

  George went on to explain that people were experiencing cold and flu symptoms by mid day and stores and shops just shut down. Agabarn shut down too, just in case.

  “Did anyone come in to help?” Harry asked. “The CDC? FEMA?”

  George shook his head. “Not that we know of. Too many, too fast. By that first evening, while America scurried to get on her feet, while she rallied to get help into the affected areas, a first wave airstrike came in shooting anything that moved off the east coast. We heard it and stayed inside.”

  “We heard on the radio that we were trying to bring troops home,” Harry said.

  “Yeah, we heard that too. But now there are battles going on at sea trying to stop them from returning.”

  Harry exhaled heavily. “Are there news broadcasts anymore?”

  George shook his head. “A newscaster came on to say that they were not going to report anything because the enemy could intercept. So we are here, just buckled down.”

  “The second wave came this morning,” Harry said. “I heard and saw it.”

  “No, Harry. That was the third wave. That was the biggest yet.”

  “Jesus.” Harry’s hand reached down and stroked Tyler’s head. Tyler had fallen asleep on his lap and he was glad for that. The boy didn’t need to hear anything he didn’t understand. Harry would explain it to him later. “So you’re in the dark now.”

  “Not completely,” George said. “We pick up news from Ham operators. They send updates that are coded. We haven’t broken the code completely, but we’re getting the gist of it all. Before the major new hubs went off the air, the general consensus was that this wasn’t a terror hit, but rather a joint attack and invasion by a few small countries.”

  “How did they have the resources?”

  “Well, think about it,” George said. “Two nukes, pre-planted. Flying bombs, the most sophisticated they used were the bio weapons. We think they blew their wad on those. If they hadn’t, they would have dropped more and not had to resort to firing on anything that moved.”

  “So you guys are just hunkered down?” Harry asked.

  George nodded. “We survived three airstrikes, not one hit here, by boarding up and staying in the dark. They flew right over. We’re so close to Connecticut, they probably think we were hit with the bio weapons. We have men on roof tops.. They’ll sound alarms in case an attack is coming and we’ll all get below. That’s all we can do for now.”

  Harry nodded his understanding. “Because you can’t pack up and move a town.”

  “One town?” George asked. “Try three. We have refugees left and right; people are coming here because word got out we’re safe.”

  “For how long?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Any word whatsoever on what we are doing?’

  “What do you mean?” George asked. “We, as in Agabarn?”

  “No, we as in the United States. Have we started retaliating? Fighting back?”

  “Nothing yet. Not that we heard but only we get bits and pieces,” George said. “But I’ll tell ya, Harry, if I don’t hear anything soon, I’m gonna have to assume, that we, The United States of America… laid down our weapons and quit.”

  ***

  They made it to a house one block up and two streets over. It seemed pretty safe, at least to Foster. The blinds were old and wooden and he was able to draw them closed.

  There were two things that Foster didn’t tell Judith.

  One was that there were the bodies of a man and woman in the house, although he was pretty certain that she could smell them. And the other thing was that he had seen Abby lying dead in the street.

  Judith, led by Foster, sensed something was up and conveyed as much.

  Foster stopped when he saw Abby. She was lying on the sidewalk and had been shot in the head. A pool of her own blood surrounded her head. She actually looked peaceful to Foster. He didn’t stay long to look at her. He did pause long enough to say to himself, ‘May God have mercy on your soul. You are at rest,’ before he moved on.

  Judith had asked if something was wrong. Foster had said no.

  He did think about Abby and what went through her mind, aside from the bullet. Abby, when last Foster had talked to her, didn’t want to live.

  Foster figured that Abby finally took advantage of an opportunity to die and stayed in the street until a soldier shot her.

  He’d always remember Abby. He felt bad that she had died, but a part of him was happy for her because she was reunited with the family she had lost.

  The house he found had been converted into apartments and Foster took Judith to the second floor to be safe. He dragged the bodies out and down the hall. He found clothing in the other apartments for him and for Judith.

  What he found for her was a house dress. It was probably something someone much older than Judith would wear, but it was better than her blood stained clothes. That and a pair
of cotton stretch pants, the type his second foster mother wore all the time to Bingo. He forewarned Judith that she was not going to be a fashion statement. To which she replied, “At least I don’t have to see what I look like.”

  For himself he found a pair of jogging pants and shirt.

  They both had started to smell sour and he knew it. He ran a bath in the second floor apartment for her. The water was cool, but not ice cold. He was able to use the gas line and a match to boil some water. He added that to the bath.

  “Towel.” He placed it in her hand and then brought her hand to the toilet next to the tub. “Soap is to your left with the shampoo. Just reach out. Call me and I can help you if you want. I promise not to look.”

  “Jimmy,” she said as she grabbed his hand. “You are very kind. For this God is going to reward you.”

  “Let’s just hope his reward is getting us to somewhere safe.”

  “Let’s hope.”

  “I’ll let you be,” Foster said. “I’m going to head right next door and take a quick shower. I won’t be long, I promise. You soak. If you need anything, call.”

  Judith nodded.

  She undressed when she heard him leave the bathroom. Her blouse stuck to her body and she had to peel it from her. She removed the remainder of her clothes, felt for the edge of the tub, lifted her leg and stepped inside.

  The water was hot and she couldn’t wait to settle down.

  Her body sunk into the water and the instant it engulfed her, Judith wanted to collapse.

  Her chest felt heavy and in the middle of reaching for the soap, she started to cry. Clutching the bar between her fingers, she didn’t move.

  She couldn’t see a thing except for a change in lighting. How helpless she truly was. She couldn’t find her own food, her way; she couldn’t even draw her own bath.

  It was at that instant it hit her that if everyone from the bus had died as well as everyone in the area, then chances were everyone she knew and loved was probably gone as well.

  She was alive by the grace and compassion of a teenage boy who didn’t need to sacrifice his own well being for her, but did.

  In that tub, body aching, Judith prayed for those she lost, for those alive and struggling and for the young man named Jimmy who had become nothing less than an angel to her. And while she prayed, she continued to cry.

  ***

  The bikes were hidden in the bushes. Ben and Lana withdrew deeper into the foliage and huddled together under a blanket tent.

  They had trekked a good fifteen miles and the final few miles were killers.

  They weren’t teenagers anymore and the fact that they stayed clear of the road most of the time didn’t help.

  The bicycle ride wasn’t easy.

  They found a Wal-Mart just before they knew they were going to have to stop. There they grabbed some blankets and pillows, a small flashlight, water and food.

  Deep in the wooded area, at least a hundred feet from where they hid the bikes, they laid down some blankets and using a darker one, made a makeshift tent. They hoped their attempt at camouflage would prevent them from being spotted from the air.

  The tent hid the light from the flashlight and they huddled together sharing a can of Dinty Moore beef stew. They had grabbed a bottle of booze from the convenience store and sipped on that along with the water. The alcohol kept them warm, busy and numb to what was happening.

  “We didn’t make much progress today,” Lana said as she inched closer to Ben, putting her spoon in the can. “You can finish that off.”

  “Nah, I’m good.” He placed his own spoon in the can and set it down. “Maybe we can eat more later. And we have made great progress.”

  Lana chuckled. “Hardly.”

  “Hey, we’re chipping away at the miles.”

  “And we’re safe.”

  “That, too. I think though, we’ll remain safe for a while and more so when we get to Canada.”

  “We don’t have any documentation; you think they’ll let us through.”

  “I’m sure they have provisions for refugees.”

  “Refugees?” Lana asked.

  “That’s what we are, Lana, refugees. How many times have we seen it on the news? A country goes to war and people leave it. You see them by the masses making an exodus to the next country.”

  “Ben? Let me ask you a question. Do you think we’re wrong for leaving?”

  Ben shrugged. “I don’t know. How much can we do?”

  “But how much can they do?”

  “What do you mean?” Ben asked.

  “It’s a big country. How much have they really taken or attacked.”

  “I don’t know and that’s why our plan is to head into Canada. Play it safe, Lana, safe and alive.”

  “For all the years we’ve had together, even the rough ones, I’m glad we were together the other morning. I’m glad I was on that train with you.”

  “Me, too.” He pulled her to him, guiding her head to his shoulder. “Me, too.”

  ***

  ‘What’s in the box, Harry?’

  Tyler asked Harry again and Harry explained to him that it was important, even more so with all that was going on now. And Harry also told him he could unwrap the box and look inside if he wanted to.

  “I’m curious,” Harry told him. “I wonder if you can figure out what it is.”

  Those words made Tyler curious, too.

  He asked Harry again, when they went to the storage to get their things. Harry made sure he grabbed that box, stating it was far too valuable to leave in the car. He wanted it with them at all times.

  What was in the box?

  It was metal. Tyler learned that by knocking on it, and heavy. But was it the box that made it heavy or the contents? It didn’t feel like there was much in there. In fact, when Tyler moved the box, the contents moved too.

  But he dared not shake it.

  After all, it was valuable.

  When they arrived in the small town, Tyler was tired and hungry. He didn’t want Harry to know he was hungry, Harry had worked too hard to move them and feed Tyler. Tyler didn’t want to come across as ungrateful.

  But he was hungry.

  Harry’s friend, George, gave Tyler some cheese crackers and juice while the old friends caught up. Somewhere in the middle of his crackers, Tyler put his head down in Harry’s lap and fell asleep.

  It was his longest nap ever.

  He didn’t get to hear much about what was going on. Harry filled him in over supper. He told him that people had come to the country and started a fight.

  “The whole country?” Tyler asked.

  “I doubt that,” Harry told him. He then explained it was a big country and that more than likely, whoever was starting trouble, was just taking a small piece as their own —just enough for them to have some sort of control over the United States.

  Tyler didn’t quite understand it until Harry explained it.

  “What’s your favorite toy besides a ball?” Harry asked. “Do you like cars, toy soldiers? Is there anything you collect?”

  Tyler nodded. “Action figures. Especially wrestling.”

  “Ok, now let’s suppose they only made a hundred, special edition wrestling figures. And suppose you found every one of them and had it all to yourself. Now let’s say some kid at school wanted to fight you for it.”

  “I don’t fight, Harry.”

  “I can tell that.” Harry winked. “And you wouldn’t fight that kid. It’s not worth it. Why bother. So … then he takes five of your dolls.”

  “I’d be mad.”

  “Sure you would. I’d be mad too. But suddenly, you know longer have all the collection, you have most, but he still has a piece of your collection. He has your stuff, even just a small amount, and by doing that, he controls a part of you, whether you like it or not. And you have two choices. Let him have them or fight him for them.”

  “What if I just wait until he’s sleeping and take them back?”

  Har
ry smiled. “That would work. No violence that way. Maybe that’s what the US is doing.”

  While Tyler still didn’t get the entirety of it, he got enough. He wondered what the United States was going to do. He even asked Harry that, but Harry didn’t have an answer yet.

  But he would, he promised he would. Then they finished their meals.

  A lot of people sat in the fire hall and ate. It wasn’t a big meal, just something to tide them over. Harry was told, eventually, they’d sneak out to get more food and everyone in town was pulling resources.

  George invited Harry and Tyler to stay with him. By the time they walked the secret path to George’s house, Harry was even more tired. He asked Tyler if he minded if he went to bed.

  Tyler didn’t. He knew Harry was older and even though he looked strong, he was bound to wear out early, just like Mr. Newman who lived two streets over. Mr. Newman was Harry’s age; he sat on his porch all the time but went to bed early. When Tyler asked his mom about that, she simply told him that the older a person gets sometimes they just need a little longer to rejuvenate.

  Tyler wanted Harry to get all the rest he needed. He wanted Harry to be strong.

  Harry was all he had, at least until he found the rest of his family. Tyler couldn’t get his hopes up that they were alive. What if they were like his mother?

  His mother.

  Sipping on a juice box, as he stayed close to Harry, Tyler thought of his mother. And as he did he started to cry again. He loved his mother more than anything in the world and she was gone. She looked so sick lying on that couch. It wasn’t fair and it was cruel to make her suffer.

  And his father.

  What did his father ever do to deserve to die like he did?

  When all the other kids in school complained about their parents, Tyler didn’t. He thought his parents were cool, a bit goofy at times, but cool.

  He and his dad played Friday night video games when his mom went with the girls to the movies.

  He loved his life and now it was over and everything had changed. Tyler didn’t know what to make of that and he wasn’t quite processing the severity of all that occurred. Somewhere in his mind he believed that it was all a bad dream and that it would change back at some given moment.