all god's orphans

The early morning sun threw a cold, clear light on the camp surrounding the entrance to the silo. Raymond’s hands gripped the wheel tightly as he rolled slowly along the dirt road. As the sound of his engine broke the morning stillness, the tents began to move, slowly, then with a frenetic energy. He saw two men emerge first, both holding guns and he found himself really wishing he’d been able to bring his AR-15. It would be fine, he told himself. Now that goddamn pilot was getting into his head, too. It would be fine.

He coasted to a stop beside where the two men were standing and shut off his engine. They craned their necks to try and see inside the vehicle, but it was too tall to give anything away.

“Morning.” Said Raymond. “Are you fellas with Valhalla?” He tried to sound chipper, but the two men were holding their weapons as though they thought they were about to use them. Raymond could see that they were afraid.

“Never heard of it.” Said one of the men. Raymond noticed that there was no more movement from the camp.

“Where is everybody?” He asked.

“How many people you got in there with you?” Asked the other man, who seemed to be the leader of the two. His eyes weren’t quite as dim as his compatriot’s. Raymond shook his head.

“It’s just me.” He said. “Where is everybody?” He asked again, his internal alarms starting to blare. The two men raised their weapons.

“Keep your hands where we can see them?” The leader barked and Raymond raised his arms. He opened Raymond’s door. “Now get out!” He ordered. Raymond stumbled out trying to keep his hands up.”

“What the Hell is this?” He demanded of them. “What’s going on? I need to get into Valhalla.”

“Ain’t nobody getting into Valhalla.” Said the dumber one as the smarter one made a quick survey of the truck’s interior. Finding no one inside, he climbed back out of the driver’s side.

“He’s alone.” He told his dimwitted partner. “Take him over there and shoot him.”

“What?!” Raymond gasped. “Why are you going to shoot me?” It was the earnestness of the question that struck the two men. After a moment of looking into each other’s eyes, they agreed to at least give him that.

“Look.” Sighed the smarter one. “We’re not bad guys. But it’s survival of the fittest.” He put a hand on Raymond’s shoulder. “If you had thought of it first, we’d be the one laying dead in a field and you’d be taking all of our stuff.” He shrugged. “Better luck next time, I guess. Okay, put him with the others.” As the dumb one grabbed Raymond by the elbow to lead him away, a single shot rang out and tore through the man’s throat. All three of them jumped at the sound and Raymond watched as his captor fell to the ground clutching at the meat exposed in his neck. At first, there was no blood and Raymond could see the details of his trachea, muscles, and esophagus, but a moment later, as though someone had turned on the tap, his wound was filled with blood. Soft gurgles bubbled up between his fingers. His eyes were open wide in surprise and terror. The smart one had ducked behind the RV and now his friend was dying as he watched from just a few feet away.

“Darren!” He screamed. “Are you okay?” Raymond tried to run, but Darren’s smarter friend tackled him and put a gun to his head. “You shoot one more time and I’m gonna kill this man!” Raymond’s face was in the grass and the man’s weight on his back made it difficult to breathe. The gun to his head became an afterthought as he tried to relax himself and slow his runaway heartbeat. “Where are you?” He yelled at the landscape. “How many are out there?” He pressed the gun barrel even deeper into Raymond’s skull. “How many?!”

“Just one.” Said Raymond. “But he’s a Hell of a shot.” Darren’s hand reached up into the sky in one last desperate gesture before falling back onto his chest, which then deflated like a hot air balloon, expelling his last breath. “If you let me go, you can just leave.” Raymond told him.

“Where would I fucking go?!” The man yelped. “Keep your mouth shut!” He scanned the surrounding fields to try and zero in on the shooter who had killed his best friend, but it was hopeless. Tall grass spread out all around, easily concealing anything within it. “Stand up!” He demanded. Nothing happened. “Stand up right now or I shoot!” The grass swayed gently, but nothing else moved. “You really gonna make me shoot this guy?” Finally, about seventy feet away, Wes stood up with Raymond’s rifle in his hand. The man pulled Raymond to his feet and used him as a shield.

“You might want to re-think what you’re doing.” Wes observed.

“Throw your gun down!” Ordered the frantic man.

“We just want some answers.” Said Wes, trying to calm him down.

“Well I don’t have any, okay?” He shrieked. “The world is over. That’s what I know!”

“Is that why you killed all those people?” Wes had seen the shallow indention in the earth where they had dumped the bodies of others who had come in search of Valhalla.

“I didn’t have a choice!” He was unraveling. “What was I supposed to do? Huh? There’s nothing out here! The shelter is locked down! We’re gonna die out here. It’s kill or be killed. It’s not my fault!” Shouted the man. Before Wes could respond, another single shot hit Raymond’s captor just under his nose. The back of his head exploded in a pink mist and his body dropped to the ground like a pile of dirty laundry. Nobody knew where the shot had come from until Brian stood up.

“Jesus.” Wes scoffed as he realized the distance Brian’s bullet covered. “You are one mean shot, my friend!” He called out to Brian shooting position about three hundred yards behind him. Wes found the Pilot lying next to the bed in the back room of the RV.

“Looks like you were right.” He said to Wallace.

“Yay.” Replied Wallace with no enthusiasm at all. “I love when I’m right about how shitty things are.” Wes yelled out that it was all done and the rest of their crew began wading through the tall grass towards the camp. Kite and Millie also noticed the mass grave, but they were becoming immune to such things. The group gathered around the door and waited for Raymond to open it for them. It was a grey steel door surrounded by concrete, which angled steeply into the ground. Beside the door was a small number keypad.

“So how do we open it?” Wes asked. Everyone looked at Raymond who took a moment to realize all eyes were on him.

“What?” He asked, snapping back from his daydream of a hot shower.

“How do we open it?” Wes repeated. Raymond stepped forward and banged on the door a few times. The sound from behind the door rang hollow. It gave them all a cold feeling in their stomachs.

“Don’t you have a code to put in or something?” Asked Sarah. Raymond’s panic was growing with each second that the door stayed shut.

“They didn’t give me one.” He looked around. “They never said anything about this. We were supposed to contact them and then they would bring us here.”

“So how do we get in?” Wes wanted to know. Raymond could do nothing else, so he banged on the door even harder than he had before as Brian stepped away and rubbed his temples. Louder echoes rang into the emptiness beyond, but that was all that changed from the first time he pounded on the door. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him and didn’t want to turn and face them, so instead he concentrated all his will on the flat gray surface of the door, hoping something would happen. Then, far off in the distance a sound began to rise.

At first, it seemed to be coming from every direction, but soon it was clear that the source of the mournful tone was somewhere north. It was steady and odd, not a beeping or wailing like a normal siren. The tone didn’t change much and it sounded almost like a lone bugle call over a lost battlefield. It rose in a sharp crescendo and then stopped, its echoes bouncing off the sky and reaching all the way to Mexico it seemed.

The stillness settled back and soon there was no indication that there had been any sound at all, so quiet was the air. Then, almost inaudible at first but rising quickly came the strange grumbling of thunder Brian had heard before, only this time it was much louder. On the horizon, stalks of billowing smoke were pushing furious orbs of fire into the sky. From one side of the landscape to the other, nuclear missiles began to shoot up from the ground until it seemed a wall of clouds stood miles wide and reached into space.

“Daddy what is that?” Raymond’s heart froze for an instant as he realized his daughter was about to die.

“We’ve got about thirty minutes to open this door before those missiles get where they’re going and somebody shoots back at us.” Raymond declared.

“What?” Brian asked for everyone’s benefit.

“It’s a nuclear war.” Raymond said and then beat his fist against the steel door until he broke two bones in his hand.