knew something worse was about to happen. A few stopped and let us pile in, looked like overstuffed clown cars with arms and legs sticking out of the windows, and all.”
The man paused to take a long drink from the water glass at his hand. Paul urgently wanted the man to continue, he had never spoken to survivors from the Northeast. Even though better sense told him otherwise, he had always hoped that other parts of the country had fared better.
As he placed the glass back down, Dan continued. “The guys driving had the engines maxing out and that’s when I heard the jets. Three of ‘em, flying low towards the refugee camp. Those things lit up the night like you wouldn’t believe. BOOM, BOOM, BOOM! I don’t know how many missiles they dropped but it was “shock and awe” all the way.
“When we finally stopped, the driver, a young kid named Johnson, told us that we were lucky. He said there had been reports of cities getting nuked once the virus got too out of control. I don’t know if it’s true or not, least I haven’t seen any signs of that.”
“Me either,” Paul supplied as he eased back into his chair stunned. A country’s decision to use nuclear weapons against its own cities was one he could not bring himself to fathom. Though, if it had a chance to contain the outbreak, would a leader hesitate long to order such an action?
“From there we mostly wandered,” Dan continued. “We had a few permanent settlements, or we hoped they would be,, but eventually infected would move in, and we’d move out. Over time, we met up with other groups, joined our resources, etcetera. Though we felt more secure with greater numbers, it began to get tougher to feed everyone. A couple years ago we made the move out west hoping to find farms large enough to hold and feed us.”
“Did you?” Paul asked. Though their start had been vastly different, he felt a kinship with these refugees. In the end, those that had survived had been forced into nomadic existences, lifestyles long abandoned through time and convenience.
“We did. Mostly because we had to,” Dan added with a laugh. “There were over four thousand of us that made the trek. We had our own little city in a way. Houses were built, solar panels gave us power, set up schools for the kids. The whole deal.” When he spoke again, the man’s voice was edged with dark sorrow. “And then about a month ago, they came again. But this time… this time there were so many of them. And they were smarter, tested our defenses, knew our weaknesses. It was only a matter of days before we were overrun from all sides. The few soldiers we had still standing cut us an exit before being swallowed up again. Since then it, it’s been back to wandering, until some of our scouts saw your campfires. We knew it was a risk approaching, you know friend or foe and all, but we were too weak to last more than a few more days without help.”
“You did the right thing,” Paul told him. “We don’t have the kind of system you had, but we have food and water.” Let’s hope we can figure out a way to make it last, he thought. “One of our scouts came in this morning reporting a large band of Tils… that’s what we call the infected. They’re northwest of our camp, so chances are it’s the same group that attacked your town.”
Hoping the man would feel a desire of vengeance, he added: “We have a fairly full arsenal, but our numbers were a bit low. With the help of your people, I think we can take the Tils down. Our guy wasn’t able to get a clear count, but he estimates them at around five to eight thousand strong.”
Laughing, Dan looked to his fellow refugees. “Eight thousand? We weren’t defenseless, friend. We had military men and women with a ‘fairly full arsenal’ as well.”
“I don’t understand…” Paul admitted honestly, confused by the change in tone.
“Our town didn’t get overrun by five or even eight thousand of the infected, or Tils.
The man paused to take a long drink from the water glass at his hand. Paul urgently wanted the man to continue, he had never spoken to survivors from the Northeast. Even though better sense told him otherwise, he had always hoped that other parts of the country had fared better.
As he placed the glass back down, Dan continued. “The guys driving had the engines maxing out and that’s when I heard the jets. Three of ‘em, flying low towards the refugee camp. Those things lit up the night like you wouldn’t believe. BOOM, BOOM, BOOM! I don’t know how many missiles they dropped but it was “shock and awe” all the way.
“When we finally stopped, the driver, a young kid named Johnson, told us that we were lucky. He said there had been reports of cities getting nuked once the virus got too out of control. I don’t know if it’s true or not, least I haven’t seen any signs of that.”
“Me either,” Paul supplied as he eased back into his chair stunned. A country’s decision to use nuclear weapons against its own cities was one he could not bring himself to fathom. Though, if it had a chance to contain the outbreak, would a leader hesitate long to order such an action?
“From there we mostly wandered,” Dan continued. “We had a few permanent settlements, or we hoped they would be,, but eventually infected would move in, and we’d move out. Over time, we met up with other groups, joined our resources, etcetera. Though we felt more secure with greater numbers, it began to get tougher to feed everyone. A couple years ago we made the move out west hoping to find farms large enough to hold and feed us.”
“Did you?” Paul asked. Though their start had been vastly different, he felt a kinship with these refugees. In the end, those that had survived had been forced into nomadic existences, lifestyles long abandoned through time and convenience.
“We did. Mostly because we had to,” Dan added with a laugh. “There were over four thousand of us that made the trek. We had our own little city in a way. Houses were built, solar panels gave us power, set up schools for the kids. The whole deal.” When he spoke again, the man’s voice was edged with dark sorrow. “And then about a month ago, they came again. But this time… this time there were so many of them. And they were smarter, tested our defenses, knew our weaknesses. It was only a matter of days before we were overrun from all sides. The few soldiers we had still standing cut us an exit before being swallowed up again. Since then it, it’s been back to wandering, until some of our scouts saw your campfires. We knew it was a risk approaching, you know friend or foe and all, but we were too weak to last more than a few more days without help.”
“You did the right thing,” Paul told him. “We don’t have the kind of system you had, but we have food and water.” Let’s hope we can figure out a way to make it last, he thought. “One of our scouts came in this morning reporting a large band of Tils… that’s what we call the infected. They’re northwest of our camp, so chances are it’s the same group that attacked your town.”
Hoping the man would feel a desire of vengeance, he added: “We have a fairly full arsenal, but our numbers were a bit low. With the help of your people, I think we can take the Tils down. Our guy wasn’t able to get a clear count, but he estimates them at around five to eight thousand strong.”
Laughing, Dan looked to his fellow refugees. “Eight thousand? We weren’t defenseless, friend. We had military men and women with a ‘fairly full arsenal’ as well.”
“I don’t understand…” Paul admitted honestly, confused by the change in tone.
“Our town didn’t get overrun by five or even eight thousand of the infected, or Tils.
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