Envy the Dead - Continuation of the Survival Story

[MinutemanCO]

Envy the Dead Two -

Briggs snapped awake. The violence of the unknown interruption erased all fatigue from his mind. He never really slept that well anyway. Something had invaded his not-so- REM-sleep, something unknown. And “unknown” immediately translated to “threat” in the extant world of death and devastation.

*Snap* He rotated to locate the noise, scanning the darkness for any sign of movement. It was dark, coal mine dark without the oil lamps. The wind was blowing, just strong enough to disrupt sensory input. He thought he could hear someone (something?) moving through the dried prairie grass. Certain not to move a muscle, he listened with the acuity of a military scout. He made out a human voice whispered to at least one other person. He now knew what he was up against.

Briggs made camp on the west-facing side of Davidson Mesa just below the ridgeline as the sunset bathed the land in its fiery light. He settled against a grouping of large sandstone boulders along a steep slope that overlooked ninety-five percent of the Boulder Valley. The city, the university and all the homes of the upper crust were obliterated, replaced with twisted black destruction.

The five-hundred kiloton nuke that visited its ruin upon Boulder, a Russian SS-27 Topol-M, originated from a mobile launch vehicle deep in the Siberian wasteland. The single warhead penetrated US airspace above Wyoming and air burst detonated a few minutes later over the Pearl Street Mall killing one hundred thousand Boulderites instantly. The hotspot at ground zero, soil, cars, building materials and groundwater activated by the initial nuclear radiation, had barely faded, even after four years. The hazardous radius around the blast point wasn’t enormous but deserved respect nonetheless. Briggs would skirt the edge of what would have been the southern limits of Boulder and head for Eldorado Canyon.

The intruders closed in on his small encampment up the slope from the west. The starlight backlit two figures long enough for Briggs to pinpoint a fix. Two people, close formation, slightly crouched and climbing toward his vantage point. He waited in hiding until they drew close, twenty feet… nowhere to run. He depressed the trigger on the pump action 870, discharging a single round of the precious double-ought buck into the ground at the feet of his adversaries. The round echoed like the concussion of a howitzer in the still of the night. Dirt and gravel flew everywhere. Both prowlers screamed in surprise and froze solid.

“You take another step and you’ll be bleeding.” Briggs circled around the far side of the largest boulder. “Turn toward me and sit cross legged with your hands in the air. If you move – I mean even the slightest twitch – you’ll be spouting holes you never had before.”

He cut two three foot lengths of rope from a coil attached to his ruck. He handed one length to intruder number-one, “Tie your friend’s hands.” The figure complied. Briggs tied up number-one and checked number-two’s rigging before forcing them apart from each other, face down in the rocky soil. He did a quick body search for concealed weapons.

“Now talk! What are you doing up here? Are you scoping the area for one of the ten factions?”

“Factions? No. My brother and I saw you from a couple miles off, earlier today. Man, we haven’t talked with anyone in months. We just wanted to talk.”

Only then did Briggs realize he was putting the screws to two kids. “You’re kids. I can’t believe this.” He helped both boys back to a sitting position. “How old are you and what are your names?”

Number-one did all the talking. His entire body shook as he tried to explain, “I’m Kevin and this is my brother Jake. He’s fourteen and I’m sixteen.”

“Have you got any weapons on you?”

“Just a hunting knife, and you found that,” Kevin said.

“You’ve been surviving since the nukes with a hunting knife? I don’t believe you,” Briggs said.

“Well not exactly,” Kevin began to elaborate. “After everything went to hell, my parents and older sister were killed by the virus. I got real sick but somehow managed to survive. Jake never picked up even one symptom. After a week, I got better. Real sudden like. It was if something in my body kicked the virus out. One day I had a 104 fever and puking everywhere, the next day, I felt a lot better.”

Briggs looked at the boys, his skeptical nature showing through. He waved his right hand in a circular motion as if to say, “Tell me more.”

“We lived with our parents up Coal Creek Canyon. After our parents died, we survived for about two months on the food and water we had stored. When the food ran out, we realized that we needed to change our plan. We took day trips from the house over that two month period, trying to find food, supplies and answers.”

“What answers,” Briggs demanded.

“Anything. What’d happened? Who was still alive? Was there any law or government left that could help us? Like that,” Kevin said.

“What’d you find?”

“Well, we quickly discovered that most of the areas close in to the cities and bigger towns were crawling with the wild people. Do you know who I mean? The wild people?”

Briggs thought back to his first encounter with the roving mobs the boys called “the wild people.” He needed supplies one summer day four weeks after the missiles came and decided to explore what remained of Fort Lupton. He avoided the individuals and small groups of people staking claims on the more valuable stores and houses in the area. He kept to the shadows and moved only when no one was looking. He gathered all he could find in a one hour period of time. Not wanting to be a victim of his own carelessness, Briggs walked quickly with his stash for the outskirts.

The sun was setting and the shadows started to play tricks on his eyes. He was only a few hundred yards from the nearest farm field when he heard what sounded like a human howl. The call was answered by yells and screams from a larger group a bit further away. He hit the dirt and crawled on his stomach to a rusted hulk that was once an old tow truck rig. Hidden in the shadows beneath the burned out truck, Briggs peered out to witness a scene that caused him great distress. What he saw haunted his dreams for months.

The mob had captured a man from somewhere in the business district and dragged him toward a large Quonset hut set back off the main road. The man, gaunt and malnourished, was struggling to get free but was no match for the mass of distorted humanity that held him captive. After reaching the Quonset hut, the mob turned vicious. Briggs saw only a fraction of what really happened. The captive’s screams coupled with Briggs’ imagination provided sufficient description. Rumors circulated among the rational people that the wild mobs consisted of people somehow infected with a mutated strain of the virus. They were reasonable, sensible citizens who were altered by the mutant strain just enough to distort their collective reality. Unable to think in a lucid manner, the wild people often resorted to cannibalism. They were to be avoided at all costs.

“Yeah, I know all about the mobs,” Briggs answered. “You need to stay away from them. What else did you learn on your fact finding missions?”

“We ran into groups of people patrolling the Front Range region. They appeared to be assembled under some kind of formal leadership. We were told later that these groups were known as factions. Green Faction exercises control over what remains of Boulder. Gray Faction… Longmont, I-25 and Erie.”

“Yup, that’s correct,” Briggs said. “There are at least ten factions controlling the sectors surrounding Denver. The overall leadership, if you can call it that, lies with a warlord named Kresh. No one that I’ve spoken with knows where his headquarters is. Some say he holes up in a bunker near the old airport. Others are convinced he’s in the mountains… Idaho Springs or Genesee. I’ve got my suspicions. It’s not relevant, though. Fact is, even with ongoing wars between the factions, Kresh and his Black Faction are in control. Many have died in his quest for power. Of this you can be certain.”

“Who are you?” Kevin asked. “Are you a member of a faction?”

“I’m nobody. You should learn what questions not to ask, kid.”

“I didn’t mean any harm,” Kevin said. “Jake and I have been on our own for a long time now. We were approached by members of the Blue Faction. They wanted us to join them in return for protection, shelter and regular meals.”

“Why didn’t you?” Briggs wondered aloud.

“There was something not quite right about their offer. They were hiding something. We heard enough rumors of forced servitude and slave labor within the factions to give us concern. We managed to evade Blue’s coercion and keep to ourselves ever since.”

“Why seek out other people now? What’s changed since then?” Briggs had a ray of compassion for the brothers. His constant vigilance would never subside, but as his thoughts returned to Will and Sarah, his heart melted just a little.

“Look mister, we’re lonely and barely getting by. It gets harder every day to find food. We need to be part of a family, a community. A group of people we can be dedicated to. Do you know what I mean?”

“I do.” Briggs stared off into the distance as if trying to recollect what it was like to be a part of a family. It wasn’t clear, but the memories were there.

“I know what you’re getting at, Kevin.” Briggs said. “Part of me would like the same exact thing. I’m headed into the mountains in search of just such a community. You can come with me if you want.”

“You serious?” Kevin said. Both boys looked hopeful.

“Yeah. You can come along on one condition.”

“Name it,” Kevin said.

“You’ve got to listen to me. I’m in charge of our little group. The moment you start to freelance, I’m out of here and you guys are on your own again. You willing to make that sacrifice?”

Kevin looked at Jake. The silent conversation between them reached a conclusion. “We are.”