John O'Brien - Reckoning

“I have to say that it was rather strange seeing the city by day. It just didn’t match what we were being told. There wasn’t any smoke rising or anything else that you’d associate with a disaster of that magnitude. It seemed, well, normal. At any rate, the fleet sailed out, ship after ship emerging from around the headlands. Jefferson City was put in the vanguard to provide a semblance of outer security. We accompanied them. Behind us, a seemingly endless stream of ships poured out of the port.

“I don’t think there was any game plan other than to get survivors out of the city. It may have been that they were going to loiter in the Pacific and wait for things to calm down ashore. Or, they may have stopped to get take a breath and head to Hawaii or Guam. However, they didn’t have a chance to do anything as outbreaks started occurring on all of the surface boats. That’s when we received our orders from Admiral Casey.”

Jorgenson pauses in his story as if unable to continue. Or maybe it’s that he doesn’t want to.

“The admiral, fighting the outbreak on his ships, decided San Diego was lost and ordered us to target it. He didn’t stipulate his reasons for launching, but I believe he was trying to stop the infected from branching out. Seeing he was fighting a losing battle aboard, it could have been a retaliatory strike, but I prefer my opinion. We weren’t far offshore…but out of sight of land. We separated from the group…” Jorgenson pauses again, “…and launched.”

Leonard, who didn’t notice that he was holding his breath, lets it out with a sigh. He knows the thoughts, fears, and doubts that must have circulated through the captain’s mind. That’s one question asked of most everyone put in control of nuclear weapons, ‘Would you fire on the United States if so ordered?’ That’s a tricky question and, knowing the odds of being sent such an order were low, most would answer ‘yes’ in order to get or keep their position. No, Leonard knows that order wasn’t an easy one to keep.

Jorgenson’s eyes take on a faraway look. “We surfaced immediately after the launch and were surprised to see the Jefferson City surface a short distance from us. The smoke trail was still visible, arcing into the sky until lost from view and slowly being blown apart by the winds aloft. We had the timer going and everyone on top was silent. There was only the sound of waves against the hull. The open tube and smoke trail were the only signs of what just transpired. Minutes upon minutes passed with only the breeze against our faces as we kept our eyes to the east. Our timers wound down to zero. Then, over the horizon, a bright flash. I felt sick watching the rapidly rising mushroom cloud leap into the sky, clawing its way upward.

“No one said anything. There was nothing to say. Most of those on top felt the same way, but we were unable to turn our eyes away for a long time. I remember the message from the admiral congratulating the entire crew of the Maine . Attached were further orders targeting the entire western seaboard. I crumpled the message and threw it overboard. That’s when I signaled Jefferson City via signal lamp.

“We both thought the situation hopeless. It must be the same as San Diego in other cities, but the orders to nuke them seemed ludicrous. Of course, we hadn’t been ashore, but it still seemed an act of desperation and, well, it just didn’t seem to be the right solution. Seeing the mushroom cloud on the horizon seemed to be a testament to the folly of those further orders. Castagne felt the same way. We came to the conclusion that it was only a matter of time for those on the ships anyway.

“Even though families were aboard, there wasn’t anything we could do. We didn’t dare take any aboard or we’d be in the same straits. That was a harder decision than launching, the one to do nothing. The crew of Jefferson City took it hard, but Castagne was able to present a clear picture of what was happening. We decided to separate from the fleet and wait. If they survived, we could apologize and more than likely be court-martialed.

“We ignored further communications from fleet and dove deep thinking the admiral would send the ASW escorts against us. I guess they had their own hands full as we never heard them working against us. The ships had gathered close together for whatever reason and we loitered on the fringes. We surfaced the first night after breaking from the fleet but didn’t stay for long. Screams from the ships drifted across the water and it was just too much to take. The next morning, none of the ships were underway and we saw a few people on the decks. We discussed closing and taking on the survivors, but we didn’t dare lest we become like the drifting boats.

“The next day, we didn’t see anyone. The only things on the surface were the ships slowly drifting apart on the swells. We stayed in the area for a while before we headed to Hawaii. We only arrived back here the day prior.”

“What did you see in Hawaii?” Leonard asks.

Jorgenson and Castagne give each other a meaningful look. “It’s gone,” Jorgenson states emphatically.

“So, you obviously never fired on the other cities, but I noticed you riding a little high. Do you still have the missiles aboard?” Leonard asks.

With a sigh, Jorgenson answers, “No. We safetied the missiles and fired them into the ocean. Seeing that mushroom cloud rising over one of our own towns, destroyed without good reason… well… I just didn’t want that kind of temptation to surface. I get the admiral’s reasoning to keep the infected from spreading, but if we had fired on the western cities, the entire country would have been laid to ruin from the radiation.”

Leonard nods his understanding. “What’s your plan from here?”

“We were in the midst of discussing that when you showed up. We thought about Guam or possibly Australia, but after seeing Hawaii, we thought we’d just run into the same thing. If there was someone around, we would have received some form of communication, well, valid ones that is,” Castagne says.

Having related the information that Walker provided, they know the previous ones were fake.

“We need outfitting, though. Seeing how we weren’t admitted into the port, we are both in need of supplies,” Jorgenson states.

“We need outfitting as well,” Leonard says. “The only place I know for sure where we can do that is at Bangor.”

“Did you happen to find any families around the base?” Jorgenson asks. “The crew will be anxious for any word.”

“We didn’t see anyone there, but that doesn’t mean anything as we didn’t leave the dock. It’s possible Walker will know something, but we’ll have to wait until we get closer to get into contact as we’ve lost satellite communications,” Leonard replies. “Plus, it will give us something to focus on. The crew isn’t going to take the news of their families well.”

“We each had our problems at first. There are still some who are upset, but we’ve gone through the hardest phase. Just give it time and let them grieve,” Castagne states.

With the captains back in their respective subs, they all sink below the Pacific swells and turn north.

On my knees next to Robert, with my arm draped across his back, I send Gonzalez after the doc. Robert, after throwing up, remains on his hands and knees. All of sudden, I feel a pressure in my head. It’s not overpowering or anything like a headache. It’s just, well, something else. Almost like a breath blowing through if that makes any sense. Robert turns his head abruptly and shoots a look at me. As soon as his eyes lock on mine, the pressure changes, shifts, and I can sense Robert.