Doomsday

11. The Color of God

Patrick Slayne drove with fierce intensity. He needed to put as much distance behind them as he could in as short a time as possible. He pushed the Hunster past ninety when the streets permitted and took curves perilously fast.

Alf Richardson was as pale as snow. “It’s like being on a roller coaster, only worse.”

“Can’t you slow down?” Deepak Kapur complained.

“Of course I can,” Slayne responded. “But I won’t. Unlike you, I happen to like breathing.” Deepak made a prediction of his own. “You’ll want to kick yourself for being ridiculous when nothing happens.”

“You’re in denial, Mr. Kapur.”

“Or is it that I have more confidence in the U.S. military than you do? They have satellites that can shoot missiles down. They have land-based defense systems like the Nimrod that was set up last year. They have jet interceptors.”

“Your point?”

“This isn’t Iran. This isn’t Israel. It’s America. We have the most sophisticated weaponry on the planet. I doubt very much that an enemy missile will get through.”

“That’s because you’re under the delusion that our defenses are infallible. Trust me. They’re not. Satellites work best against missiles with high trajectories. They don’t do as well against missiles that fly at ground or sea level. The Nimrod is effective, yes, but again, it’s hard for the system to lock in on a missile that comes in low. As for our jets, by the time they’re scrambled to intercept, it will be over.”

“I refuse to believe that.”

“Like I said, you’re in denial.”

Alf cleared his throat. “I believe you, Mr. Slayne. You’ve been right about everything else.” Slayne didn’t appear to hear him. “Our lives depend on the payload. I’m guessing it will be one kiloton, but it could be more.”

“How far do we have to go be to be safe?” Alf asked.

“Completely safe? Thirty miles.”

“How far have we come?”

“We’re not quite six miles outside the city.”

Alf clutched his seat. “Oh, God.”

“Stay calm, Mr. Richardson. The Hunster is shielded and reinforced. Essentially, it’s a disguised tank. Or a Humvee, if you want. We can handle ten times the radiation of most any transport on the planet.” Slayne spun the wheel, taking a corner on two tires. “Our main worry is the blast pressure. Up to five miles out from ground zero, the pressure wave can flatten a building.” Deepak interjected, “Did you ever stop to think that Homeland Security might be wrong?”

“Think what you will if it will make you happy.”

Sighing in annoyance, Deepak shifted in his seat and looked out the rear window at the New York skyline. It looked so serene; the skyscrapers were silhouetted against the sky in grand majesty. Suddenly there was a flash brighter than the sun, a flash so brilliant, Deepak cried out and looked away. When he glanced back through slitted eyes he beheld a purple glow. His eyes began to hurt and he looked away once more, but only for a few seconds.

A mushroom cloud was taking shape. So was a wall of living flames that leapt outward from the impact point, consuming everything in its path.

Alf screamed and doubled over. “I’m going to be sick!”

“You do and I throw you out,” Slayne snapped.

Deepak barely heard them. He was riveted to the most awe-inspiring sight of his life. The purple had changed to red. The mushroom cloud was at ten thousand feet and rising. On an impulse he timed it with his wristwatch. In less than a minute the cloud was thirty thousand feet high. The stalk stretched as the cloud rose.

“Magnificent,” Deepak exclaimed.

“You can’t mean that,” Alf bleated in terror.

Deepak could almost see the shock waves rippling outward like ripples in a pond. Whatever they touched, they flattened or blew apart. With remarkable speed the waves swept toward them.

“Faster!” Alf urged.

Slayne pushed the Hunster to a hundred. “Hold on tight. We’ll be like bugs in a barrel.” Deepak wondered what that meant. Then there was no time for wondering; the shock waves caught up with them. The Hunster gave a hard lurch and spun completely around. Clutching the handle over the door, he pressed his feet against the floor.

“Oh, God,” Alf wailed. “We’re dead!”

“Here comes the worst of id”

Pressure waves buffeted the Hunster. Slayne tried to maintain control, but human sinews were no match for potent, raw, incalculable force. The Hunster went into a tailspin, and then went on spinning. A building loomed in the windshield, growing closer and closer.

Deepak had barely braced himself when the Hunster slammed into a wall hard enough to make his ears ring. He slumped in his seat, half dazed, then groped about his body checking for broken bones. Alf was groaning.

At the base of the mushroom cloud was a purple dome, a gigantic pulsing, swelling, gelatinous bubble. It spread outward from the epicenter until it had swallowed half a mile of city. It appeared to be yards thick and almost looked wet.

A shiver ran down Deepak’s spine. “I have seen the face of Shiva, the Destroyer.” He would never be the same. “Get us out of here!” Alf urged.

Slayne was trying. He turned the ignition, but all the engine did was growl. He tried again, and a third time, then smacked the dash. “This shouldn’t happen. We’re shielded.” Deepak looked back at the purple bubble, which was pulsing and writhing with nuclear life.

“What is that thing?”

A roar from the engine brought a yip from Slayne. He threw the Hunster into gear to get clear of the wall, then wheeled to the west and tramped on the gas pedal. “Hang on. We need to vacate the radiation zone as quickly as possible.”

“What happens if we don’t?”

“We die of radiation poisoning, Mr. Richardson. As grisly a death as you can conceive.” Deepak didn’t care about that. He didn’t care that Slayne was driving like a lunatic. He couldn’t take his eyes off Shiva, made real. Belatedly, he realized that the majestic skyscrapers he had been looking at only minutes ago were gone. So were countless other buildings and homes. A great circular swath of steel, stone, and humankind had been consumed, the very heart of New York City devoured by the ultimate man-made monster.

“Will we make it, Mr. Slayne?” Alf asked.

“Time will tell.”

The pain brought Ben Thomas back to life. He started to groan and bit it off. Opening his eyes, he gazed around himself in confusion. He thought it must be night; it was so dark. Gradually his eyes adjusted. He was in a room. There was the outline of a door on one wall, but no windows. He went to move and discovered his wrists and ankles were tied.

“Damn me for a fool.”

From a patch of ink in a corner came a squeal of delight. “You’re alive! That knock on the head didn’t kill you.

“Space?” Ben’s tongue felt inches thick. He blinked and realized something was wrong with his left eye.

“Who else?” She wriggled out of the dark, her arms and legs tied as his were. “I’m sorry they got you, too. It’s my fault.”

Ben remembered now. He had woken up in the truck and found her gone so he had gone looking for her. He’d called her name over and over and when she didn’t answer he had gone from door to door. No one answered his knocks. He was starting to think Smelterville was deserted when he came to an old factory. He’d almost passed it by, but he had glimpsed movement at a window and went to investigate. He had knocked and tried the door. It was unlocked so he had poked his head in—and that was the last he remembered until now. “How long have I been out?”

“A couple of hours. They dumped us here and said they’d be back later.” Ben tested the rope around his wrists. There was slack but not much. He set to work moving his forearms back and forth. “Who’s this ‘they’ you keep talking about?”

“I don’t know. They didn’t say a whole lot.” Space continued to wriggle toward him.

“How did they catch you?”

“I was exploring. I know you told me to stay in the cab, but I was bored.” Space frowned. “I didn’t think it would hurt if I took a look around.”

“Now you know better.” Ben gritted his teeth against the pain he was causing himself.

“I couldn’t find anyone. Then I saw a grocery store, a mom-and-pop deal, and figured I’d buy a Three Musketeers. I love Three Musketeers. They’re my favorite candy in all the world. I could eat a whole box at one sitting. I’d be in heaven.”

“Space, damn it.”

“What?”

“Forget the stupid candy and tell me how they caught you.

“Geez. You’re a real bear when you get a knock on the head.” Space was almost to him. “But it was like this, see. I went into the store and there was no one behind the counter, so I helped myself. I was coming back out when half a dozen of them closed in. I ran, but they know the town better than I do and I got trapped in an alley with no way out.”

“What can you tell me about them? Anything at all will help.” The Marines—and Ben—were big believers in “know your enemy.”

Space stopped. “They’re guys with guns. A whole lot of guys. One of them said I was an outsider and from now on outsiders don’t get to come and go as they please.”

Ben wondered if he could bribe them. He had a roll of bills hidden in Semper Fi.

“A young one whispered to me that he was sorry about what they were doing, but there was nothing he could do.”

“Did he tell you his name?”

“Roger.”

Ben filed the information for future reference. It might come in handy; it might not. The important thing was that at least one of their captors had a conscience.

“What do we do? Do you have a plan to get us out of here?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“What is it?” Space eagerly asked. “We get in my truck and ride like hell.” Ben tried twisting his right wrist and paid for it with a spike of a pain. “You’re not taking this serious.”

“I always take dying serious.” Ben felt wet drops trickle down his wrist, but he kept at it. There was no telling when their captors would return.

No sooner did the thought cross his mind than feet tramped toward them and the door was pulled open. A hand reached in and found a switch. Light from an overhead bulb flooded the room and in filed four men. They wore everyday clothes. One had on a Mariners baseball cap; he couldn’t have been more than twenty and he had more freckles than a beach had sand. He came and stood over Ben. “Good. You’re awake.”

“Who do you think you are, treating us like this? Let us go or I’ll report you to the law.” The young man laughed. “Do you hear him, boys? This here darkie is threatening us.”

“What did you just call me?”

“Listen up, darkie. My name is Hardin. I’m one of Myron Croft’s lieutenants. We’re setting up a new order with laws of our own.” Hardin drew back his leg. “This is what I think of you and your kind.” Ben tried to roll out of the way, but he was much too slow. A steel-toed boot caught him in the ribs. Sheer agony coursed through him, but he refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing him in torment. Holding his head high, he put on his best poker face and said, “Is that all you’ve got, punk?” Hardin grinned. “We’ve got us a tough mother. Good. You’ll last longer. We’ll have us more fun.”

“Leave him be,” Space said angrily. “We never did anything to you, you little twerp.” Hardin had ignored her, but now he turned and bent low so his face was above hers. “The slut speaks.”

“Slut, am I?” Space tried to butt him with her forehead.

“Dressed the way you are, what else would you be but one of those city girls who gives it out for free?” Hardin nudged her with his boot. “But you’ll learn. You and your black friend, both.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Haven’t you guessed? It’s the end of the world, girl. We just heard that New York City has been nuked. San Diego and maybe Seattle, too.”

“What does that have to do with us?”

“You sure are dumb. Pretty soon there won’t be any government. It’ll be every dog for itself. Now Myron, he’s real smart. He saw this would happen and he got us set for it.” Hardin puffed out his chest.

“We’re taking over, lock, stock, and barrel.”

Space sneered in contempt. “You take over one little town and act like you’re God?”

“Not one town, stupid. We’re taking over all of Idaho. First this part and then the rest.” Hardin turned back to Ben. “Now then. Suppose you tell us what’s in that trailer you’re hauling.”

“None of your business.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, mister. Anything we want, we take. We tried to break the lock but it’s made of some newfangled metal. So I’ll ask you again and if you don’t answer me, we’ll see if you’re as tough as that lock.” He tapped his foot. “Well? I ain’t got all day.” Fully aware of the consequences, Ben Thomas squared his shoulders and said in fierce delight, “Go to hell.”