Avalon: The Retreat by L. Michael Rusin Page B

of them had been up all night with Dan, listening to the National and International news.
    It was grim worldwide. Holland reported multiple attacks by their own Muslim residents, along with France, Germany, and Italy. Turkey had declared war on Iran at some point during the night and was hit, within an hour of the announcement, by a nuclear strike on Istanbul.
    Israel, in the meantime, was seemingly busy bombing everyone around them with nuclear devices. Every country in the Middle East was petitioning the United Nations to make them stop, and the Israelis sent this message to the U.N.,
    “Kiss our asses!”
    Taiwan rebelled in an attempt to re-emerge as its own republic and immediately declared war on China. Shortly thereafter, Taiwan was bombed with several high-altitude burst electromagnetic pulse nukes, or EMPs, instantly pummeling the entire island into a blackout. The Chinese flag now flew over what was left of Taiwan and Chinese troops were on the island as occupation forces.
    France, along with several other European Union countries, pleaded with the United Nations, and in particular, the United States, for help. America’s response was, “You’re on your own, so deal with it. We will offer you nothing in terms of aid or support or anything else, not today or any other day in the foreseeable future.”
    A high ranking Naval Officer was overheard at a gathering of diplomats in Paris saying, “France can kiss our asses.” In an official announcement, the U.S. denied making the comment. In the meantime an attaché in Paris, Admiral Stewart Davis, was reassigned to the Naval Staff in Holland.
    France offered to ally itself with Russia and China but was rebuffed. Apparently, no one wanted to help France with anything and the French were wringing their hands, begging anyone and everyone for help. Their pleas were met with silence, thus far.
    Mike walked over to a table to wait for Caroline, but, before sitting down, he continued over to the coffee urns sitting on a corner near the coal fired stove and helped himself. He then walked back to the table and sat in one of the chairs. He liked his coffee strong, black, and hot and considered anything else “fru fru.”
    The events of what had occurred seemed surreal in as much he and the others had always talked about what these times would be like, should they ever happen. Most of the group, although realizing they needed to have a place to escape for safety, probably couldn’t believe the brutality of people against people when it was predicated by desperation. The very worst came out and displayed itself, and sometimes in the ugliest of ways.
    The farmer and his wife, if that was what they really had been, were the classic example. Sadly, they were somebody at one time. They appeared to have put up a tremendous fight, but in the end they died because they were outnumbered by a superior force and were not ready. Preparation was the key to preserving people and things most important in life. His thoughts carried him away and he found himself thinking about Caroline.
    She was thirty one, about five feet six inches, and 36-24-36; but that was a guess since he had never asked. The clarity and blueness of her beautiful eyes made him feel that she could see into his soul. Those eyes were unlike any he’d ever seen before. She was a serious person, he knew, and she was also someone with empathy, which is why she became a nurse.
    What he liked best about her features was her hair, which was nearly white in places. The mixture of so many different colors of yellow, white, and shaded streaks scattered throughout her head were unusual and extremely attractive. She always wore it straight down her back or in a ponytail. Mike found there were times when he couldn’t take his eyes off her, and she always smiled at him as if she knew that.
    She was more beautiful than any woman he had ever known!
    She once told him that some time back she’d nearly married, but she caught the guy