The Coming Night - Cover

The Coming Night

Copyright© 2007 by Dr. T. D'Manne

Chapter 15

Small groups around the country, self-styled survivalists, dug in for what they felt would be a long wait for the radioactivity to reach bearable levels. Those levels were reached within an hour, during which time the bands of organized OFFER groups took control of power plants, warehouses, and the few remaining unblocked thoroughfares. When readings showed it was safe to venture out, they did. Many of the groups became little more than brigands themselves, while others fell victim to the paperwork which fueled the society.

Yellow sheets, the infamous 4473 forms of the ATF, led the OFFERs directly to those groups without the foresight to use addresses other than their refuges. Others were found when neighbors were tortured for the location of the hideaways. Still others died because they had not stocked the larders of the camps and had to venture out for food, or potable water. By nightfall on the first day fewer than half of the 'organized groups' remained.


There was little the newly formed group could do in the sulking gloom of full night. The new moon offered no relief from the star specked velvet, and electrons no longer coursed through the copper and aluminum grids of the national power network. So, it was by camp lantern and candle light that Josh called the first meeting of the diverse group of survivors. Robby Klienschmidt, peacefully sleeping off the effects of the day's insanities, and Toby Melton, with sentry duty on the roof of the meeting house, as the huge garage had been dubbed, were the only ones not there.

Josh surveyed the faces of the twelve who sat around the brightened interior on boxes, tables and a few folding chairs. He wondered for the nth time why and how things had come to this course. He'd privately listened to the stories of the seven unexpected arrivals and quietly encouraged those who became caught up in the grief of their personal losses. He tried, with only partial success, to dam the flood of bitter pain constantly seeking to overpower the part of his mind he used to control his emotion.

The sum of the day's effects were still to be felt, simply because of the tremendous number of things which had happened. He glanced at his watch and was surprised to find less than nine hours gone since taking leave of Toby's shop, to retrieve his family from their vacation. Now his family, all of his family, was dead. His world had disappeared in a brief flash of unimaginable fury. The fury also took the lives of countless others. Others with whom he could now share his grief, and, in sharing, reduce the final consequences to a manageable frame work.

As the stories of the newest of the Haven's people came to light, he began to realize the eruptions of death were far from over. There had to be a powerful organization behind the massive destruction. Bits and pieces of information brought into focus a larger picture at once astounding, and demoralizing. The reoccurrence of certain items, as well as the absence of others, pointed to a continuing effort to deplete and demoralize the people of the United States. He felt certain the efforts were not restricted to the immediate area, and was equally sure the nuclear devices were of a type offering little danger past the initial blast effects.

He vaguely remembered the beginnings of a conversation with Rafe on precisely this subject, something about an element capable of sustaining an explosive fission reaction, which would not leave a a severe fallout problem. He simply could not remember any of the details, most of which soared far over his head. His eyes sought those of the research scientist, and their icy blue was met by the deep pools of brown shaded by Rafe's equally dark eyebrows. In the languid darkness of those orbs were both questions unasked, and answers to those questions coming swiftly to the forefront of Josh's racing mind. After mere seconds of contact both men were forced to look away, but not without an unspoken promise of time to spend gnawing away at the myriad queries birthed in the short period of communion.

" People. Friends, let's leave the rest of the stories, or histories for a later time because there is still much to do this evening. " Josh paused for a moment, mentally cataloguing the items still needing attention. " Instead of continuing with our full life stories, what we need to do is introduce ourselves to the group. While each is standing, tell us your name, and where you called home. " Again there was a discernible pause. " I would appreciate it if each of you would tell us about hobbies, vocations, or talents which might be of use to the group in the days ahead."

For a third time, Josh paused to allow the unspoken inferences to sink in, and allow some individual thought about the types of skills the group would need to survive the coming months.

" We are going to need everyone's help in the coming months to do a tremendous number of tasks none of us have ever done before. We will all find these difficult and unpleasant at times. Few of us thought, before today, we would be among the survivors of nuclear attack, but we are. I feel certain none of us were truly prepared for the things which happened today, and in my mind at least, there is the feeling that the evils which beset us today are not over. Everything points to an organization, not a government as we know it, but an organization being responsible for our losses today. This group will not be satisfied until after the entire world is at their collective feet, beaten, without recourse, without arms, without freedom, and without hope. "

" In the near future we will either learn to help and depend on one another, or we will be among those who have died, or perhaps more tragically, among the number which are enslaved by whomever perpetrated this holocaust."

" Most, if not all of you know who I am, but to start the ball rolling, my name is Joshua Malcolm Hardesty. I was the Vice-President of a local bank and I own this piece of ground which has become 'The Haven.' In the words of a Spaniard long dead, 'Mi casa, es su casa', 'My home is your home' from this day forth. I built this house, for the most part, with my own hands and know a bit about a lot of different and diverse things. I am, until we are fully organized, the undisputed leader of this group. " He paused for effect while glancing into each set of eyes focused on him. " Until different arrangements are made my word will be law. There will be no discussion, and if there are, among you now, people who will have trouble with this please speak, if you withhold comment now, and cause trouble later you will be subject to any penalty which I deem necessary. Are there any questions?"

Again the icy gaze swept the group, resting long enough on each of those present to allow them the chance to speak, without forcing any of those assembled to do so. " All of us are used to a society that values personal freedoms. The society that will evolve here will be dedicated to that premise, but in its early phases will have to be a society that deals harshly with anyone and anything impeding its progress. All of us have one characteristic in common. We have all survived the first eight hours of this war. To continue surviving, we must be willing to forgo those personal freedoms in the interest of the continued existence of the group. The job will not be easy. It will require the full cooperation of all of us, and all others who will join us in the future. The reason I am declaring myself leader at this time, is the simple expedient of knowledge. I know the area. I know what tools we have to work with. I know where to get more tools to do the jobs we are going to have to do. But most importantly I know the secrets of the Haven and enough of the people here with us, that I feel I can form the basis for a viable group from the people represented here. At times most of you will feel picked upon. At times every one of you will hate me for something I have done or said, but the one thing I hope will be foremost in each of your thoughts is, I will be pushing myself harder than I push any of you. I do have more to say, but I am going to sit down and rest my mouth for awhile so each of you will have the opportunity to say whatever they feel needs to be said. OK, who's next?"

Georgia Fulmer had been scared since the first shots had blasted the quite murmurs of Hosston, La. some seven hours before, but now she was thoroughly pissed. The audacity of that sanctimonious son-of-a-bitch declaring himself leader just because this was his house made her blood boil, but she said nothing. She remained silent because she knew the only people on which she could depend right now were here, and she could tell by the bastard's voice he was as serious as the day's earlier events were serious. She knew her parents were dead, but it had not really affected her because they had been so bigoted in their attitudes. She had known for years they would never see eye to eye on the social and political ideologies which she had adopted. She also knew she had been very lucky to have fallen in with the group which had salvaged what they could from the burning refinery in the small Louisiana town. Still, she resented the turn of events which had led the people into this oppressed "'Haven'" of southwestern Arkansas. She had carefully noted what she felt to be the challenging stare Josh had given each of the men in the group, especially the two negroes who had saved them all from dying at the diner, and when the short fight developed on the road here. She had also noted the cruel smiles which creased his face and the face of the big engineer when they thought no one was looking. They would soon find out she was not just a dumb girl, she was smarter and wiser than both of the bastards put together, but not right now. First, she would find out exactly what was going on, particularly the secrets Josh alluded to. Then she would show them all. Until then she would just play along and be the good little girl they expected her to be, "and I will start right now. " She thought to herself as she stood to make her introduction. " My name is Georgia Lea Fulmer, and I am 21 years old. I am... I was a junior at the University of Arkansas, Little Rock and I am, was studying Social Science. I like to cook, bake, sew, and I am a very good typist. I also take short hand."

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