World War III Read online

  It’d been several years since the government had retracted second amendment rights and outlawed the ownership of firearms. The Hate Crime Act, which had been passed by the previous administration, was designed to prevent people from saying anything that could be construed as offensive to others. The law included the elimination of the right to bear arms, although he didn’t understand how owning a gun could be considered offensive. Now only licensed, government agents could legally own guns.

  Even though the penalty for getting caught with a firearm was severe, many citizens had ignored the order to relinquish their weapons. And who could blame them? Ever since the nation had fallen into chaos, guns of any make or model had become a hot commodity. Not only were people using them to defend themselves from murders and thieves but they were also using them for hunting. Purchasing food at a grocery store had become nearly impossible. Even if you could find food on the shelves, which was seldom, no one could afford to buy anything.

  Casey was shrewd enough to realize there was a huge market in firearms and an exponential profit to be made, but he had to be careful. If anyone found out, they’d most likely kill him and take any cargo he carried. Of course there was always the government to worry about, although he hadn’t seen any cops in days.

  Casey kept the millions in cash he’d acquired hidden in a secret compartment under the seat of his big rig. Banks were no longer an option. Most had closed their doors when the economy collapsed, days before the vanishing. Thank God he’d never trusted in financial institutions and was not among the millions who’d lost their life savings overnight.

  After the euro crashed, the dollar and all other currencies soon followed, causing economies around the world to spiral out of control. Of course that was old news now. A million bucks didn’t go very far these days and he was barely able to keep up with the increased costs. A cup of coffee that used to cost five dollars now cost five hundred and a meal that was once fifteen dollars was now valued at over fifteen hundred. Just to fill up his eighteen-wheeler with gas cost over seventy thousand dollars. It was a brave new world.

  Hyper-inflation had driven prices up and out of control. The mass printing of U.S. dollars had caused the value of the currency to become virtually worthless. Only savvy investors who’d been smart enough to invest in gold, silver and other commodities retained their purchasing power. People were hurting and everyone was desperate. When they couldn’t pay with cash or precious metals, Casey usually offered to barter, although many people didn’t have anything of value to trade.

  He’d just loaded the last crate in the back of his trailer and was closing the double doors, when he noticed a young couple standing in the middle of the street. They were holding hands and staring up at the sky.

  What are they looking at?

  He slid the lock into place and walked towards the cab. He grabbed hold of the handle and was about to climb in when he noticed other people standing around looking up. He let go of the handle and glanced up to see what everyone was staring at. He assumed it was the Aurora Borealis or northern lights, which could sometimes be seen this time of year. But he was wrong, dead wrong.

  Droplets of rain pelted Casey’s face as he peered up at the sky, his eyes squinting to protect them from the downpour. His mouth dropped open. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The Space Needle towered above him and beyond it were several dozen streaks of fire coming from the north.

  Not again!!!

  He remembered the meteor shower that brought the whole world to its knees, destroying every nation’s capital and leaving havoc in its wake. Small bursts of light began to flash in the sky, as if dozens of bombs had exploded in the atmosphere.

  He was about to run for shelter, when he noticed something out of the ordinary. These meteors weren’t falling downward like the ones before. Instead they seemed to be headed south, almost as if each projectile had a specific destination. He suddenly realized why. They weren’t meteors.

  “They’re missiles!” He whispered the words so softly that no one could have heard him even if they’d been standing right beside him. As the ballistic missiles passed overhead, some people began to run for shelter while others stood there paralyzed.

  Casey watched the missiles until they were gone from sight. Suddenly a blinding flash of light lit up the sky. The burst was so intense that he tripped trying to back away from it and fell flat on his back, hitting his head on his truck’s foot step and landing in a puddle. For a moment he just lay there, afraid to move because he couldn’t see anything and the pain in his head was overwhelming. He opened and closed his eyes several times but it didn’t help.

  Am I blind?

  He rubbed his eyes with desperation, praying that this wasn’t permanent.

  Casey slowly rose to a sitting position and felt the back of his head, trying to feel for a wound. He couldn’t tell if he was bleeding because he was already soaking wet. He’d been standing dangerously close to the road when he fell and he began to panic when he heard a car drive dangerously close to him, splashing him with water. Frantically, he searched for the step leading up to the cab.

  Casey had no desire to live the remainder of his life in darkness. How would he make a living? Blind men can’t drive! Suddenly his hand brushed against something cold and metallic. It was the step leading up to the cab! Using the step as a guide, he slowly stood up and leaned against the open door of his eighteen-wheeler.

  He stood there for a moment trying to catch his breath. He needed to calm down before he could figure out what to do. He took a few deep breaths and prayed for the Lord’s protection. Feeling a little calmer but still dizzy from hitting his head, he slid down towards the footstep with his back toward the cab. He felt around with his hand until he found the step and sat down. He looked up and opened his eyes, allowing the rain to run down his face.

  A few minutes passed before he started to see blurry shapes. Hope filled his heart. He could hear the sound of frightened voices, as other people scrambled around frantically.

  At least I’m not alone.

  The abrupt sound of screeching tires from only a few feet away startled him, but what worried him more was the subsequent thud followed by a woman’s scream. He splashed some more rain water on his face and rubbed his eyes once again. His vision was slowly returning but everything was still blurry.

  Thank God I’m not permanently blind!

  After a few more blinks and splashes of water he was able to see the lines on his hand. As blurry objects and shapes became clear, relief washed over him and his spirits lifted. His vision had finally returned and he was grateful.

  The feeling of elation didn’t last long when he realized what he was looking at. He felt his heart sink even lower than before. Directly in front of him was the young couple he’d seen standing in the street only moments ago. The man’s twisted body was lying on the pavement in a pool of blood. His arms and legs were bent in ways that God had not intended.

  The woman had red hair with a blue bow and was wearing a tan overcoat. She was kneeling beside the man’s body and sobbing uncontrollably. Casey stood up and held on to his truck for a moment, staring at the deep blue color of the bow. He was still a little dizzy and didn’t want to fall again. Slowly he made his way towards the couple. He knelt down beside the woman who was holding the man’s hand.

  “Wake up baby, wake up! Please don’t leave me Johnny!” she cried.

  Casey reached down and felt for the man’s pulse. Nothing. The man was dead. He wrapped his arm around the young woman’s shoulder and squeezed ever so gently.

  “He’s gone ma’am,” he whispered into her ear.

  “No! No he’s not!” she cried out in agony. “He can’t be gone! He’s all I have!”

  “I’m sorry ma’am,” said Casey, wishing there was more that he could say.

  “Oh my God Jennifer, are you okay?” asked a voice from behind Casey. A small man with large spectacles pushed his way through the crowd and knelt down on the other side
of the man’s body. “What happened to Johnny?” he asked.

  “He’s dead,” replied Casey. “He got hit by a car.”

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry Jenny! Are you hurt? Were you hit too?”

  “He’s not dead!” she cried hysterically. “He can’t be dead!”

  “I’m afraid she’s in shock,” said Casey. “She needs to get someplace dry and warm.”

  “She’s my niece,” said the balding man, as he pushed his spectacles higher up his nose. “I’ll take care of her.”

  “Very well,” said Casey, standing up.

  He looked around at the crowd gathered close by and realized they weren’t watching the young couple. Instead, their eyes were fixated on the skyline to the south. A few yards away sat a blue SUV parked in the middle of the street. The headlights were broken, the hood dented and the windshield was completely smashed. It was obviously the vehicle that had killed the young man.

  “Whose car is this?” asked Casey, glaring at the crowd.

  “Mine.” said a man dressed in a blue blazer and brown loafers. “Why?”

  “You just killed a man, you arrogant son of a bitch!” The words flew from Casey’s mouth like the crack from a whip.

  “Well he shouldn’t have been standing in the middle of the road,” snapped the man. “It’s not my fault! I didn’t even see him until it was too late.”

  Anger spewed from Casey like lava erupting from a volcano. “It’s not your fault?” he hissed, repeating the man’s words as though they tasted bitter. “You run a man down and kill him because you’re not paying attention, and it’s not your fault?”

  “He shouldn’t have been there in the first place!” spat the man without remorse. “If he wouldn’t have been standing in the middle of the…”

  Before he could finish his sentence, Casey’s fist smashed into the man’s mouth, splitting open his lip. Blood spewed from his broken lip. Casey’s next punch broke the man’s nose, causing him to scream in pain.

  Suddenly hands were grabbing Casey from all sides, as a group of strangers dragged him away from the man, who was now on his knees holding his nose. Blood pooled on the ground below him. Casey was shaking uncontrollably.

  He took a deep breath and the shaking subsided. One by one, the hands that gripped him began to let go. Casey glanced down at the girl named Jennifer. She was still crying and holding Johnny’s hand. She appeared oblivious to the altercation that had just transpired.

  At least she has her uncle.

  “Oh my God!” said someone from the crowd, as they looked over toward where the blinding light had come from.

  Casey was afraid to look but decided it must be safe now. He followed the crowd’s gaze and his eyes widened when he saw what they were staring at. A large mushroom cloud was looming over them, and beyond it were several more.

  Tea Time

  World War III – Day One

  San Diego, California

  Elizabeth Mancini returned from her kitchen with a steaming cup of tea in hand. She carefully placed the saucer on the end-table next to her favorite chair and sat down. On the TV tray in front of her was a bowl of maple syrup oatmeal. Next to it was a plate of scrambled eggs and toast with strawberry jam. It wasn’t much, but these days it could easily be considered a feast. Food had become extremely expensive and hard to get. But at least she wasn’t starving, which was more than she could say for some of her neighbors. Of course owning chickens and having a small vegetable garden had been a huge help.

  She was taking a moment to relax, which was greatly needed with all of the chaos that had recently consumed the world. Her hazel eyes showed the tremendous concern that was weighing on her heart as she took a nibble of toast. Beth reached over and picked up the book she was in the middle of reading from the corner of the end-table, hoping for a little distraction.

  She was worried about her son and hoped that he was safe. She’d not heard from Alexander in weeks and that wasn’t like him. Before the vanishing, Beth and her son used to talk on the phone every Sunday. It had now been weeks since their last conversation and she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hurt. Of course it could just be her motherly intuition working overtime, but not knowing for sure, was what bothered her the most.

  Now in her early sixties, Beth’s age was beginning to show. Over the years her hair had slowly turned from blond to silver and unlike most women her age, she’d decided to keep it long. Her thick, wavy locks had always been one of her late husband’s favorite features and she wasn’t about to change it just because of age. Although her hair required more time and energy, she didn’t really mind the extra work; after all, she had been doing it her whole life. It reminded her of their love and brought a smile to her face every time she thought of him.

  She missed Anthony ever minute since his passing three years ago. She still spent hours lost in memories of their time together. Beth knew that her feelings for him would never change and hoped that he was right about them ne day being together in heaven. Oh how she longed for that day to come!

  Although a small woman, Beth had a very large attitude. Though her skin had begun to wrinkle, her spirit and vigor remained strong and firm. In the years since Anthony had passed, she’d grown more stubborn and set in her ways. She was the type of woman who didn’t care what other people thought and always chose comfort over style. Dressed in a pair of light grey sweat pants with a powder blue sweatshirt, Beth slid down into her Lazy Boy and picked up her book.

  Opening her novel, she flipped to the page with her bookmark, before taking a sip from her tea. Reading always had a calming effect on her, no matter how bad things got. Anthony used to marvel at how easy it was for her to become lost in a book. But what surprised him the most, was how she never seemed to tire from reading the same books over and over again. Beth tried to explain to him that it was just like watching a movie several times only better, because you discovered new things each time you read it. But Anthony never seemed to fully understand.

  She was in the middle of a sentence when her tea cup and the saucer it was resting on, began rattling ever so slightly. Staring at her tea with a bewildered look, Beth noticed the floor vibrating beneath her feet. From the backyard came the sound of her dog barking, only to be muffled a moment later by a thunderous boom.

  “What now?” she mumbled. With Anthony gone, Beth had become in the habit of talking to herself, at least when no one else was around to hear her slowly losing her sanity.

  Confused and a little scared, she stood up, set her book down and then headed outside to find out what all of the commotion was about. Opening the kitchen screen door which led to the backyard, she stepped out onto the porch. It was a bright and beautiful winter day. A gentle breeze rolled in from the nearby Pacific Ocean feeling cool and crisp, carrying with it the slightest scent of saltwater.

  She lived in San Diego for the past twenty years, having moved there from Chicago after her husband retired from the Police Department. Using the excuse of his work, their son had decided to stay in Illinois. Beth loved the ocean, but loved her son even more. She missed Alexander very much, especially now that her husband had passed away, leaving her all alone.

  Her yellow Labrador, named Duke, was standing on the small patch of grass that constituted her backyard. He was facing north, fearlessly barking up at the sky. Anthony had chosen the name Duke in honor of his favorite actor, John Wayne. In fact, Beth still had her husband’s complete DVD collection of every movie John Wayne ever starred in. Standing on the porch, she shaded her eyes from the sun and looked in the direction that Duke was barking.

  She was instantly panic-stricken. Several large, mushroom-shaped clouds of smoke rose high into the sky. The explosions had occurred far to the north, but she couldn’t tell where exactly. The huge, swelling mushroom clouds must have been visible for hundreds of miles. Terror quickly spread through Beth’s entire body, paralyzing her for just a moment, before she was finally able to fully process what was happening.

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bsp; “Oh dear!” she gasped, staring in disbelief as Duke continued to bark furiously at the mushroom clouds billowing into the air. She took several deep breathes to regain her composure. Her husband always told her panicking will get you nowhere but dead. “Oh hush up Duke! It’s too far away to hurt us,” she paused and added, “at least I hope.”

  Beth’s mind started spinning. She had no idea how to handle something like this. It had only been a little over two weeks since millions of people around the world had suddenly vanished, or been killed during the meteor shower. Many were still recovering. Beth had survived the world-wide earthquake and even the virus named Chimera, which surfaced just after the event. She’d been keeping to herself ever since the outbreak, hoping not to catch the deadly disease.

  She was grateful to have plenty of food and water stored up, thanks to Anthony’s insistence over the years. She’d been very lucky since the vanishing and hadn’t actually known or seen anyone who disappeared. Beth had been following the news reports on an old, battery powered radio that her husband insisted she not throw away. But a nuclear attack was not something she was prepared for.

  After a moment of staring in disbelief, Beth turned her back on the dark plumes of smoke to the north. “Duke!” she called over her shoulder. “Come!”

  The yellow Labrador reluctantly followed Beth inside and down the stairs to the basement.

  Beth had seen enough television to know that the mushroom clouds were the result of nuclear explosions. Her heart was pounding as she hurried down the stairs to the basement. Flashbacks from her childhood flooded her memory. She remembered the school drills that she’d participated in during the cold war era, when nuclear war was a constant threat. It had been well over fifty years since her last drill and Beth tried to recall what she’d been taught to do.