The sun hung low in the sky, casting a strange and dastardly cast to the great Western American wastelands, Specifically downtown Cheyenne. Ripped right off the cover of some dime post appol[oictic horror, novel. Only I saw first hand. the cold unsympathetic grey light was even overwhelming enough to cast doubt on the gold on the dome of the capital.
Humanity was so proud of itself self, to the point of prideful stubborn ignorance. We had created robots, then androids, and our crowning achievement, seemingly out of nowhere, a new power source: Particle Inversion. It was heralded as safe, no nuclear waste, easy to produce power source. The event that rocked the world happened in Rusia. Why wouldn't it have? Cutting corners and pushing safety had been there MO for well... Chernobernal, leave it at that.
The technology brought peace to the world, except for Russia. They seemed content, secretly meddling in other government affairs, not that most people knew that. I worked tracking a few cells of Russian operatives here in Cheyenne, The capital suburb, of the wastes of Wyoming. It had a population of no more than a hundred thousand, during the summer, when everyone flocked into town. It was the only thing 'nice,' thing and the only thing that resembled city life I had grown accustomed to, in the entire state.. God-forsaken state, which was ironic that God had forsaken it, there was a church on almost every block in places.
Then there was the accident outside of Moscow. Their first reactor exploded, taking most of Russia's population with it. They must have pissed off my friend Karma. She was a bitch. Who the explosion didn't kill, the liquefaction of the ground around surely ate them. There disturbing images, of what I was sure were once quaint little Russian cities, all grey monolithic buildings. That now were nothing more than a few tops, of buildings, and attenai It was Pompeii, only the earth was hungry. They were of the last few images broadcasted on tv. The devastation went on for a radius of nearly 600 miles.
They, sadly, were the lucky ones, and the world might have survived, sure there were now millions of tonnes of dust, disintegrated trees, bikes, homes, pets, and people in the air, blocking the sun. But that wasn't the worst part. After the destruction of Moscow, the old soviet era Cold war Nukes, assumed, since they hadn't heard from the 'Motherland' to launch their missiles at the US. The winter from the explosion would have been bad enough, but it would have settled in a few decades. We shot down 2/3 of the incoming missiles. But DC, Denver, the big apple, LA, Dallas, Huston, Seattle, and rumor had it the Golden Gate Bridge. All got hit... I may be forgetting a few. It had been two weeks. Two weeks was an entirely, now, hell thirty minutes outside was an entirety now.
Lawlessness and chaos moved in, and human decency went out the window. At first, the big box stores got broken into. Afterward mobs, but they turned to the wide variety of local business. Anything that could be taken was, people fought to death over loaves of bread from the bakery I ate a few weeks ago. Shop keepers tried to protect their shops, but mobs would loot them. One group set one on fire and took out the block before anyone could respond.
The might of the US Military complex crumbled under its own now unsupported weight, states broke off into their own countries, that was last Monday, now they have fallen into complete chaos. I was trained by the CIA to blend in crowds, The marines taught me to kill, quietly effectively, and how to hide at any range. I was recruited out of the seals. At twenty-six, I gave up a hell of a career to serve in a new way. I was chosen because I was highly technical, quick, quiet, and lethal. It was a new project, and now it was over. My mission now was to survive and help anyone who would listen to me.
Mobs, turned into gangs, and fights over key 'teroirry' were common, as far as I could tell, in a few more days, there may not be enough people to fight... In the first few days, gangs took over smaller gangs, as they forcefully enlisted their defeated survivors.... From the top of the tallest building in town, I would watch from the ANA bank building through my sniper scope. From here, I could see what mattered most, the primary way back 'home', the hospital, and the streets people would most likely come from. I could take any of the cars left in the parking lot to escape... If they still worked.
There was a commotion coming from the south side of downtown. Someone was being chased, and he looked like he was losing. I swung the barrel of 'Kate' in his direction, I peered through my scope. It was just a kid, maybe ten years younger than me. I aimed a bit in front of him, held my breath, and in one fluid movent pulled the trigger, exhaled, and cleared the chamber of 'Kate.' I picked up the cheap two-way radio and pressed the button.
"Leave him alone." My voice echoed out of a few bull horns. I had hooked up to a few radios and mounted to a few buildings. I peered at them through my scope. I had blown a chunk of concrete out of the middle of a lane line in the road, entirely on accident. "The next one, I'm aiming for heads."
The crowd booed. I aimed for the one's in the front foot, or just to the left. Again, I breathed in, held it, pulled the trigger, and pop, the bullet land next to his foot, bouncing off, and hitting someone next to him, in the groin. "Try me bitches, USMC Marksman sniper." I stood quickly, threw kate over my back, and picked up my AR 15 with an old M203 grenade launcher, both of which I 'Borrowed' the day Moscow blew up. I could get on AirForce base in town, with my credentials, and the commander of the Airforce base was only too happy to have someone with my skillset around town. He was the only law in the city, and it wasn't quite a good one. It made North Korea look tame in his DMZ zone. He had been pushing to take the hospital, but the gangs teamed up to stop him. So who this kid was, and where these people chasing him came from was beyond me.
"Kid, run to the capitol building, one block to your left, and then to your right," I said into the radio. I ran down the stairs, tossing my M16, with a borrowed M203 grenade launcher on it, on my back. I leaped down the entire half flights of stairs, using my arms to push the rest of the way. I got to the bottom and pushed the fire door opened, the battery alarm screamed. "Fuck!" I groaned to myself that the building wasn't safe to use anymore. I pulled my face cover down and sprinted towards the capital building. I heard the mob pick up energy. I wasn't sure if they were angry because I chased them off, or if they were chasing the kid again. I hid behind the corner of a building and loaded my M203.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" The kid screamed as he turned the corner of Capital Street. I readied my shot, I heard the screams and shouts get closer. I took my breath, cleared the Mechsim, and pulled the trigger. I loaded again and ran to my old beater, 87' ford pick up. Rust stained white was the right color back then. I looked over my shoulder, the grenade had been a direct hit, a mass of body parts, mangled and tangled bodies lay behind the kid, who was running towards me. I opened my door.
"Come on, your almost here!" I shouted at him, waving him into the truck.
He got to me and flung his arms around me. "Thank you!" He shouted, shaking. He was panting and looked like they had chased him the mile and half cross the railroad tracks.
"Come on. We aren't safe here, get in the truck." He clung to me, shaking. I put my arm around him and squeezed him tight. I had seen combat, I had been chased before, knew what to do, and how to handle, he was no more than nineteen. "Come on. I have a safe place. I can take you." I whispered.
The pile of bodies and body parts started to groan and move. "Really?" He more said than asked, letting go of me. He searched my eyes, looking for a sense of calm and safety. I nodded at him. "Done!" he said as he climbed into the truck and into the passenger seat.
"Don't get up until we're gone, or I'm burying you with the building next to you!" I shouted over my shoulder as I got in. I started the truck and sped off, out of down, and towards 80. I was taking city blocks at 55 miles an hour. I had moved most of the obstacles out of the way, for just this situation...
"Thanks for saving my life, but please don't get us killed!" He shouted, in unmanageable panic.
"Kid!:" I chuckled. "I have cleared this road, and driven it a few dozen times, trust me, we are fine," I said as a slammed on the breaks to turn on to the on-ramp.
"Foxtrot Unifrom, is that you we hear making bangs out there?" The base Airforce commander asked, from the radio, he also let me borrow. I hated the man from the minute I met him. He was the Airforce brat of some big-time commander. He had his sliver spoon handed to him on a platter. He was wound too tight, and I think he may have been missing a few, tiny but essential screws...
I sped down the ramp and grabbed the radio. " Rodger that!" I paused. "Just trying to stop a party before it got out of hand."
"I hear that didn't work out so well." He chuckled sinisterly.
I looked at the kid. "Angry mob zero, but I have one scared kid over here."
"You can bring him to the base if he needs medical attention."
I looked at the kid. "Are you hurt?"
"I think one of them got me with a knife, but I don't think it's bad." He said.
"Nah, I think we're good."
"How are your provisions?" He asked. I hated him, and he hated the fact that I refused to fight for him. But still, he liked having me around. I kept an eye out for movements of mobs and gangs. Kate and I would break them up if they got too bad, and I'd call in support. I was a wild card that only he could declare, or so he thought. To be honest, that is how I wanted it, that is how it needed to be... For now.... He had no clue where I lived. Despite being a military brat, he at least understood that those of us with combat experience and my level of expertise have a certain level of value, that requires a certain level of respect. As long as I kept him in the loop and cleaned up, I got what I needed. It was our unspoken deal. I may be his bitch now, taking his scrapes, but not forever.
"I think we are good for a few days." I sighed into the radio.
"Good, A rancher sold us some beef for our protection."
"We gotta go dark. Out!" I sighed on the radio and hung it up.
"There's law here?" The boy asked. I got off the highway and turned right.
"No!" I laughed and speed another three miles down until we hit a dirt road. I pulled us over. "This is more like organized crime, I talk to the rancher he's been 'negotiating' with. He had nothing to offer him, and the rancher is far enough outside of town, that he is most likely safe, he had to have threatened him." I got out. "Come on," I said as I stretched, he got out, I locked the truck, and we walked down the street.
"Where are we going?" He asked.
"Well, I call it home, you can call it whatever you like."
He sighed. "I don't even know where my parents are."
I sighed and turned to him. "Come on, let's not think about that out here. It's just a mile down the street. We can talk about it over dinner." We walked the mile down the street. I unlocked the eight-foot fence and held if for him. "welcome!" I smiled at him as I closed the gate behind us. "It isn't much."
"I bet you have a well, there is enough land here we could farm for food, and..."
"Easy now, let's get that knife wound looked at," I said, looking at the larger than I expected bloodstain on his shirt. It didn't seem to bother him, but he may have been in shock.