The Bomb - 1. Chapter 1

War is hell. No truer words have ever been spoken. The radio was keeping tabs on the war, so far we’ve been out of it. I sensed that was about to change.

The city where I live is a prime target on the coast and easy to hit. I wasn’t prepared, and there weren’t any shelters in my building, so I had only one option, I would have to leave.

Four months ago, I shopped for an RV. I had submitted some design changes, the dealer called and said my RV was ready. My changes included solar panels on the roof and an additional gas generator. I also bought a trailer, more on the design of a van, to attach to the RV. I equipped the van with cupboards, freezers, and solar panels. I filled the cupboards with can food and packaged food that didn’t require refrigeration. In the freezers, I stored smoked meats and frozen juice. I was ready to move on.

Closing out my bank accounts, I planned on heading for the northern mountains. I wasn’t sure if I would be safe there, but I knew it would be safer than staying in the city.

I planned my route north, carefully avoiding all of the big cities. My route required me to travel along the city’s western border, heading north and then west before heading north again into Canada. Just as I hit the outskirts, the radio news reported that an Armada was forming off the coast. I knew I only had minutes. As I turn toward the west, I saw a group of people standing alongside the road. I stopped and rolled down my window, “What’s happening?”

“We’re waiting for the bus. It’s heading north towards Maine. It should be here shortly. What’s the news?”

“It’s only a matter of time. There’s an enemy armada forming just off the coast. If your bus doesn’t get here soon, I’d start walking.”

Someone yelled, “There’s the bus now.”

A few of the men stood on the road, blocking it, so the bus will have to stop. As soon as it did, they forced the door open and climbed in. I watch as the bus drove away. I was ready to move on when I saw a small boy coming out behind some trees.

He looked at the back of the bus as it left and started to cry. I wound down my window, “Why are you crying?”

“I was supposed to catch that bus. My parents are sending me to my grandparents for my safety.”

“Well, you missed the bus. So climb aboard, and I’ll see what I can do to catch up to the bus.”

I opened the door, he climbed in, and we were on our way. He told me about his grandparents, they lived on the farm in North Dakota. It would take quite a long ride to get there. His mother had packed some food for him, but he forgot it when he ran for the bus.

“What’s your name?”

“My name is Jonathan, but my friends call me Jon.”

“Okay, Jon, if you’re hungry, there are sandwiches in the refrigerator. Help yourself, and there’s a carton of milk.”

He smiled as he went and got a sandwich and a carton of milk. I turned on the radio wanting to find out the latest news. Normal stations were nothing but static. I knew something happened. I dial around until I got an unknown station. It seemed the Armada attacked the city, which now laid in ruins. The US navy sunk the Armada, but not before they hit the city.

The boys started to cry, “Do you think my parents are okay?”

“I don’t know. It’ll depend if they got out in time.” What I heard on the radio, even if they made it to the city border, they would be dead. The air would be contaminated, and if the bomb blast didn’t get them, the air would. I felt sorry for the lad.

“Do you know where your grandparents live?”

“They live in North Dakota. I have their address in my bag.”

“That’s far enough North, so they should be okay.”

There were a few sniffles as we drove northwesterly. I took a route south of Detroit, staying away from Lake Erie, which led to my second passenger. Just south of Detroit, a young man was hitchhiking.

“Jon, should we stop and pick that boy up?”

“Yes, he’s probably trying to get away from Detroit.”

I stopped, “Where are you heading?"

I’m heading west, the East Coast is getting hit hard, and it’ll only be a matter of time before they start picking off the big cities. I’m sure Detroit is on their list.

“What about your parents?”

“Dad is in the army, and my mom died several years ago. Dad told me to forget the east coast, so I was to head west. The problem was he didn’t have enough money to give me. So I thought I take my chance and hitchhike a ride.”

“We’re going as far west as North Dakota where this young man is going. Then I’m heading north into Canada, heading into the Arctic region, at least as far as I can go. I can take you as far west as North Dakota.”

“Okay, that’s a start.”

‘Jon, open the door for him.” I heard Jon ask him his name, he said it was Oliver, but his friends called him Ollie

My route would take us south of Chicago, and then I would be driving north and head towards the Dakotas.

I drove until it was getting late. I covered quite a few miles. I stopped at the first gas station, which was open, refilled my gas tank, and checked if they had any food. I was concerned with the extra boys I might need more food, at least until we got to North Dakota. I paid for the gas and bought some fruit and soda for the boys. Where can we spend the night was my next question.

It was Jon who spotted the sign. I pulled into a spot where it would be quiet from the noise of the road. “I have a big bed in the back, where you two can share, I’ll convert the sofa into a bed for me.” I was glad that this coach was designed for my comfort. I’m not sure that one of those ‘off-the-shelf’ units would have worked.

Sleep came easy for me, but I heard a few sobs from the back. I guess it was Jon.

Morning came, and we had to line up for the bathroom. Showered, I was ready to move on, but I had a few things to do. I pulled the RV to the dumpsite and emptied the waste tank since I wasn’t sure when I’d have the opportunity to do it again. Cereal again for breakfast and juice, the boys asked if they could have a cup of coffee, so we shared a pot of coffee, and then we hit the road again.