“I like the sound of warm. I’ve been stationed above the freeze line since this mess got started. I long to spend a day wearing shorts outside sitting on a dock drinking a beer while fishing and I don’t mean ice fishing.”
“Yes, sir. I understand. I was transferred here from Panama City, Florida. It was like paradise there.”
“I never asked, what were you doing there?”
“Naval Surface Warfare Center. I was working on, it was classified. Oh shit, excuse me, I don’t think it matters now. I was assigned to work on mating a new small nuke, we called it a sub-K, sub-kiloton to a torpedo. The Russian subs had double skins, our normal surface ship fish couldn’t crack them open so we developed a sub-K which would crack them open. We didn’t classify it as a nuke because we had tampered the yield down to 100,000 pounds, pounds not tons of TNT. The other benefit was it weighed less than the normal HE warhead so more fuel could be carried giving the fish more range.”
“I never knew…”
“Good, only very few were supposed to know they existed.”
“How the hell did you test them?”
“Trump, remember him? He signed off on us testing them underground. We never explained it and the Russians and Chinese were confused due to the very low yield, so they didn’t ask.”
“That would have been a game changer had we ever needed it. I bet it would have come as a nasty surprise to the Russians and Chinese if we ever had to use them.”
“You got that right. Then when the white coats figured out there wasn’t anything we could do to stop the damn rock and the President decided to prepare for it, I got sent north. The original theory was people like me might be needed in case our nuclear power plants got hit or they melted down. So here I am.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The Colonel decided they’d wait out the storm in the caves, as this would also allow everyone to get better acquainted for the long drive to the next FOB. The weather conditions and ionization of the atmosphere even meant the Colonel couldn’t communicate with the next base’s commanding officer. He didn’t want to risk losing vehicles or people in the storm. He began to wonder about the intensity of the storm. He asked his weather officer, “Is it me or are the storms getting stronger?”
“Sir, you’re not wrong, they are worsening. I guess the polar vortexes are now commonplace and the jet stream will be pulling the really frigid air south. Without access to the overhead birds I don’t know how far south the cold is being driven.”
“Not the best news.”
“Sir, not unexpected.”
“Yeah, well I’ll be glad when we reach our next FOB.”
“Sir, me too.”
Trinity Coats met a group of similar aged teens in the caves. Most hadn’t been far from the caves in two years. Their new homes were in the caves and they didn’t know about the outside world. One young man, 18-year-old Frank Brenson, hung on every word Trinity said. He volunteered to give her a tour. He’d fallen for Trinity the moment he’d seen her. Her bright eyes caught him and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She realized she was attracted to him too. She learned he’d lost his parents months after they’d moved into the caves. His parents had gone out to grab supplies and never returned. He sort of fit between the young adults and the younger teens. Most of his time he’d spent watching over the younger teens. He’d never had a girlfriend before. The two of them held hands as they walked through the cave complex and in a dark corner, he kissed her check. She responded by turning and kissing him on his lips. Frank walked on air since the kiss.
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When the storm finally broke, Colonel Spivey cracked the mine’s main door open and was amazed at the sight which greeted him. The snowbanks reached over fifteen feet high. The previously plowed road was buried under feet of snow which the 40 Mph winds continued to push into drifts over ten feet high. The bright white landscape hurt the Colonel’s eyes. He tried to shield them and had to turn away. He issued orders that everyone wear their glare glasses to avoid snow blindness.
“Listen up everyone, we’re finally leaving here. Everyone please report to your assigned vehicle. We’ll leave in fifteen minutes. I’m changing the vehicle order. The three plow tanks will lead us. They’ll use their 70-ton weight and tracks to plow the roads for us. I think even they may have a hard time pushing the accumulated snow off the roads for the convoy to follow. I’m assigning the third tank to the middle of the convoy to clean the roads of any snow that manages to accumulate between vehicles. I’m sure the wind will push the snow in behind us. I’m also placing three of our heaviest armed Bradleys in the rear in case someone attempts to attack us from our rear. They will travel with their turrets facing to the rear. Due to the ionization and lack of radio communication, if you need to stop, blow your horn three times, the vehicle in front of you will repeat it until we hear it up front. Even with the plowing, the roads are bound to be a mess so we’re going to hold the speed down. We’ll stop every hour to stretch our legs and check our vehicles.”
The Coats piled into their Suburban. Jon counted heads and quickly said, “Wait one, somehow we’ve added a new teen. Excuse me, but I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Mr. Coats, Trinity’s
