eyes in the rear view mirror. After a while, they all slept.
Norfolk, Virginia
Sandra
Sandra Anderson cried, off and on, for two days. Her eyes were puffy and swollen, and they burned when she blinked as though the insides of her eyelids were coated with sandpaper. She buried her little mutt, Tricksy, in the small back yard of her condo, Homeowners’ Association be damned. There was probably no one left to complain, anyway.
She tried calling into work after Tricksy collapsed, but both her cell phone and the landline were down. That’s when she turned on the television and saw the coverage of the strange black airplanes flying in a tornado-like formation and wreaking hell on downtown Norfolk. The coverage then shifted to NAS Oceana, Amphibious Base Little Creek, and the Norfolk Naval Shipyard. The destruction was catastrophic; sailors died by the thousands in mere seconds. She watched for hours and then the coverage cut off abruptly, replaced with static on all the channels. Not even the Home Shopping Network tried to sell anything.
That’s when Sandra realized it was the Apocalypse.
The thing was … she didn’t much care, one way or another. She didn’t have her best friend and companion to face the end of the world with her. As far as she was concerned, it already ended when Tricksy died – the rest was only detail. Sandra curled up on her couch, staring at nothing.
January 4.
Kasoniak
SFC Frazier, formerly of the Military Police, stood at ease in front of Col. Kasoniak, who had finally taken over his predecessor’s desk.
“We’re too spread out here and vulnerable,” Kasoniak stated, turning the diagram his staff sergeant sketched the night before so Frazier could see it. “We need guard towers built here –” he stabbed a finger at the diagram, “here, and here, before anything else. Then we need shelters built according to these plans and the portable generators moved into position for the MASH and mess halls.”
“That’s … the depository, Colonel?”
“Yes, Sergeant. I already have a crew trying to access the building, but it’s locked up tighter …” He shook his head, not finishing his sentence. “Not a single Mint Police officer has reported in, so I’m working on the assumption they’re dead or AWOL. In either case, that land is the most defensible with an army of our size. It’s completely flat terrain for two square miles and there is the double fences and the razor wire. Until someone in higher authority contradicts me, I am re-negotiating the deed to the U.S. Mint.”
Frazier nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, Sir. It’s a good plan. It’s got the no-approach zone and the tightest perimeter we can patrol. I’ll get my men on it right away, Sir.”
Kasoniak nodded. “Thank you, Sergeant. Dismissed,” he said, and turned to the next report awaiting his review. Dear God, he was tired. And this was only the beginning.
Hershey
Hershey and his human played all morning long, getting into and out of the truck dozens of times. Clare carried tools with her and several containers that stunk and burned his eyes with the acrid smell of gasoline. She went to all of the cars in their neighborhood, breaking off a small square piece of metal from the back panel of each vehicle and sticking the clear hose she brought with her down into the smelly hole. Then she sucked on it! Several times she spit, and Hershey knew that gasoline must taste as bad as it smelled.
Still, he was happy to be outside with her, and walking in the brisk air. The day was cold, but Hershey had a thick winter coat so he didn’t mind. When it started to drizzle, his human turned back for home, putting the stinky containers in the back of her truck. She and Hershey had unloaded most of the bags of dog food the night before, and today she was able to keep the smelly containers of gas far enough away from the food so it wouldn’t get
Norfolk, Virginia
Sandra
Sandra Anderson cried, off and on, for two days. Her eyes were puffy and swollen, and they burned when she blinked as though the insides of her eyelids were coated with sandpaper. She buried her little mutt, Tricksy, in the small back yard of her condo, Homeowners’ Association be damned. There was probably no one left to complain, anyway.
She tried calling into work after Tricksy collapsed, but both her cell phone and the landline were down. That’s when she turned on the television and saw the coverage of the strange black airplanes flying in a tornado-like formation and wreaking hell on downtown Norfolk. The coverage then shifted to NAS Oceana, Amphibious Base Little Creek, and the Norfolk Naval Shipyard. The destruction was catastrophic; sailors died by the thousands in mere seconds. She watched for hours and then the coverage cut off abruptly, replaced with static on all the channels. Not even the Home Shopping Network tried to sell anything.
That’s when Sandra realized it was the Apocalypse.
The thing was … she didn’t much care, one way or another. She didn’t have her best friend and companion to face the end of the world with her. As far as she was concerned, it already ended when Tricksy died – the rest was only detail. Sandra curled up on her couch, staring at nothing.
January 4.
Kasoniak
SFC Frazier, formerly of the Military Police, stood at ease in front of Col. Kasoniak, who had finally taken over his predecessor’s desk.
“We’re too spread out here and vulnerable,” Kasoniak stated, turning the diagram his staff sergeant sketched the night before so Frazier could see it. “We need guard towers built here –” he stabbed a finger at the diagram, “here, and here, before anything else. Then we need shelters built according to these plans and the portable generators moved into position for the MASH and mess halls.”
“That’s … the depository, Colonel?”
“Yes, Sergeant. I already have a crew trying to access the building, but it’s locked up tighter …” He shook his head, not finishing his sentence. “Not a single Mint Police officer has reported in, so I’m working on the assumption they’re dead or AWOL. In either case, that land is the most defensible with an army of our size. It’s completely flat terrain for two square miles and there is the double fences and the razor wire. Until someone in higher authority contradicts me, I am re-negotiating the deed to the U.S. Mint.”
Frazier nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, Sir. It’s a good plan. It’s got the no-approach zone and the tightest perimeter we can patrol. I’ll get my men on it right away, Sir.”
Kasoniak nodded. “Thank you, Sergeant. Dismissed,” he said, and turned to the next report awaiting his review. Dear God, he was tired. And this was only the beginning.
Hershey
Hershey and his human played all morning long, getting into and out of the truck dozens of times. Clare carried tools with her and several containers that stunk and burned his eyes with the acrid smell of gasoline. She went to all of the cars in their neighborhood, breaking off a small square piece of metal from the back panel of each vehicle and sticking the clear hose she brought with her down into the smelly hole. Then she sucked on it! Several times she spit, and Hershey knew that gasoline must taste as bad as it smelled.
Still, he was happy to be outside with her, and walking in the brisk air. The day was cold, but Hershey had a thick winter coat so he didn’t mind. When it started to drizzle, his human turned back for home, putting the stinky containers in the back of her truck. She and Hershey had unloaded most of the bags of dog food the night before, and today she was able to keep the smelly containers of gas far enough away from the food so it wouldn’t get
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