Michael Bunker - WICK

“Where have they assigned you to live, Cole?” Mikail asked, innocently.

“19W,” Cole said flatly.

“Fantastic,” Mikail, replied. “It looks like we three Warwick men will be roommates. It’ll be like home, won’t it, Steve?”

Steve just nodded. His face did not betray his thoughts at all.

The four Warwickians had just turned to walk away when it happened. They did not feel the ground shake or hear the noise from the explosion. Perhaps the geography was different in Carbondale, or perhaps the terrors of the place blocked out some input from the senses. It is impossible to tell for sure, since a person cannot be in two places at one time.

Someone—they could not recall who—shouted and pointed off to the southeast. The four turned as one and looked up into the sky. They watched as the mushroom cloud bloomed outward, just above the horizon.

Mikail Mikailivitch Brekhunov did not smile and he did not laugh. He just turned to his friend Sergei and said…

“Well, now. It seems that our friends have finally arrived.”

They decided to set up camp on the lee side of a hill that was covered thickly with trees and brush. As they moved, silently and harmoniously, their activities displayed their growing experience at surviving in this new world. They were now veterans in landscape that showed no quarter to stupidity or inexperience.

Ace grabbed a black, nylon ammo pouch from the stack of gear they’d recently scrounged from a shot-up Humvee. He nodded at Peter, and then disappeared silently down into a small valley to the southeast. Experience told Elsie that Ace was heading out to find a good sniper roost on the opposite hill so that he could stand guard while Peter and Elsie prepared supper. It was a good plan, practiced and perfected, and it worked. An added benefit was that Peter and Elsie would have time to talk. Ace had grown sensitive to Peter and Elsie’s growing affection for, and reliance on, one another.

Peter took out a Geiger counter that he’d liberated from the Humvee, and he turned it on and checked their immediate area. He’d informed Elsie and Ace that most of the fallout from both New York City and Philadelphia must have been pushed out to sea by the jet stream and the prevailing winds. Elsie watched Peter move around and through the brush with the Geiger counter. She thought of how he always looked like a bear, the way he hunched over, and she laughed.

“What would you do if that thing went off, Peter? What if it just pegged to the highest reading?” she asked.

Peter shrugged. “When I was just a boy in training, the instructors told us that if that happened, we were to radio the readings back to base, then set the machine down and go prepare for our funerals.”

Elsie blinked, but didn’t look away. “A boy? In training? What boy trains for this? It seems there is so much about you that I don’t know, and don’t understand.”

Peter stood with the Geiger counter and shifted his weight. He scanned the area again with his eyes, and then looked back at Elsie. He stared into her eyes, trying to communicate what he could not say.

“One day,” Peter said, “after we’ve found a place that is relatively safe—“

“I know, Peter.”

“One day,” Peter said, and smiled.

“So…,” Elsie said, returning the smile, “…as a boy you were practicing for this? That’s heartening. My son was riding a skateboard, killing zombies on his iPhone, and talking to his friends with his thumbs.”

Peter swept the valley again with his eyes, looking for movement, or anything that didn’t seem right. His mind had become practiced at scanning the distance, examining the space for unnatural angles, artificially straight lines, man-made protuberances, or anything at all that didn’t fit. He’d learned to listen to the birds and the animals of the forest, eliminating immediately all sounds or sights that fit with what he expected, and quickly cataloging everything else so that it could be compared with tell-tale indications of danger or threats.

“Why does that counter even work?” Elsie asked, “Wouldn’t it have been destroyed by the EMP?”

“I can’t say. Perhaps it’s internally shielded, or maybe they had it in some kind of Faraday box when the EMP went off. Hard to know.”

“What good does it do?” Elsie asked.

“Well, at least we know we haven’t received any lethal dosages. We’ve been highly blessed by God, I think. This thing isn’t totally useless. If we were to receive a faint reading, you know, just enough to register on the counter but not enough to do any permanent damage, then perhaps we could alter our course and pick a different direction to walk.”

Elsie sat down on the ground and looked up at Peter.

“I didn’t know you were religious, Peter.”

“What?” Peter said.

“You said, ‘We’ve been blessed by God.’ ”

Peter thought of the many nights in that previous life that he’d spent praying for his family. Not knowing where they were or what might have happened to them.

“Of course, I am. I’ve always been a believer.” He waved his hand as if he was dismissing the whole topic out of hand, but he continued. “I gave up on the ikons and the saints and all of that stuff. I’ve lost a lot of what I used to call ‘my faith,’ but I still pray. Anyway, I don’t pray to saints or pictures any more. Now I just talk to God directly.”

“You talk to God? What does he say?”

“He doesn’t say anything. He just listens.”

Shortly after the bombs dropped, the flow of refugees from the east came to a near stop. The stream of humanity from the west and south slowed drastically too, or at least most of it did. There were still homeless people and bandits about, and the Missouri National Guard (MNG)—those who hadn’t left to join their enemies in the Free Missouri Army (FMA)—were still a reality and a persistent threat, but the endless hordes of helpless, desperate refugees had finally become only a trickle. At this point, everyone was either friend or foe, and the three travelers had become experts on recognizing foes from a distance.

With Ace off at his roost, Peter and Elsie slipped effortlessly into their friendly and familiar conversation. As they talked, they worked together to set up their supplies and tools for providing supper, but Peter, having learned from the costly mistakes of the past, never let down his guard. His eyes and ears were constantly working, scanning the area for threats.

After they were finished arranging the camp, Peter moved over near a tree to scan the forest again. When he looked back at Elsie, he found her staring at him.

“What?” he asked.

“I’m just wondering.”

“What are you wondering?”

Elsie looked down for a moment, and then looked back up at Peter. “I’m wondering if your wife is still alive… somewhere… out there.”