A word from the writer: Presently I have 8 as of yet named characters. 3 of which are airforce, 4 of which are regular army, and one of which is a conscript/volunteer like the protagonist who was part of the "B-team" to keep any Chinese Intel teams confused as to what the hell was going on with the group headed east. I am accepting Name and character archetype suggestions at: blogwiththeblastwave@gmail.com
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A wire broke and it took me a few days to fix the satellite transceiver.
Anyway, for the first two days of the exchange we cowered like rats in the bunker, muttering prayers in our respective languages to our gods, and others hoping that we would be spared a long death. On the second day of the exchange a roar shook the bunker as our worst fears took shape that a retaliatory strike had been targeted at the command structure of this facility. The lights flicked off, the electric hum replaced by silence. After what seemed like an eternity I spoke. "Are we dead?", a clang of someone knocking over a pot and a curse in Russian was the response I got, followed by laughter from everyone in earshot. Slowly the hum of electricity returned and the lights, their dim amber hue blinding despite how it had been only moments that they had darkened. Then a massive quake jolted the bunker from the east, knocking us all to the floor and the lights died once more.
It took us about an hour to fix the generator. The quake that had shook the bunker had knocked part of the watermill loose and it was a feature Leishey had not seen during the cultural exchange so, it took a bit of monkeying to get it working right.
To bide our time and keep our minds occupied, Eivan spent a lot of time running us through drills, partially to keep us active, and partially to keep us from thinking too much on what might be waiting for us when we cracked the seal on the bunker through pure exhaustion. He told us of what he had seen during his training in The Ukraine, especially in and around Pripyat, how nature had reclaimed the city and of strange creatures that wandered the ruins, a curious hybrid of plant and animal that seemed to mend the environment wherever they wandered. I honestly feel that he is what helped us get through this whole year. We owe him our lives, even though he would never take credit for it.
3 and a half weeks in Leishey had started to go a bit stir crazy.... honestly we all were by that point. Commander Rogan spent most of his time dissembling and reassembling the bunker armory and finally he just decided to walk out, radiation be damned. It was the door seal alarm that woke most everyone up, once we knew what it was we joined him at the door... what we saw was terrifying. Black ash lazily raining down like snow on a shattered and alien looking landscape while a cold wind whipped in from the northwest bearing an ominous orange glow. We returned to the bunker one by one as reality set in.
After another week the radiation had died down enough for us to actually leave the bunker for a few days at a time and not worry about getting sick and thankfully the wind direction had been fair for us so we weren't buried in irradiated dust and dirt. Also working in our favor nothing had hit the facility that had a cratering depth deep enough to damage the bunker enough to make us leave. One of the first things I learned once we began poking around on the surface properly was the proper use of a Geiger counter. The government paperwork that had come with the one I used after the first strike so long ago not only was confusing, but also had me adjust the settings on it so fine that anything above normal background radiation would have made me run fearing for my life with the machine clicking like mad. Apparently I could have been outside and grouping up with the other people that had evacuated Reedley for the nearby national park after only about 7 hours. So... I didn't actually need to spend over 2 weeks cooped up in my apartment like I did.
Perhaps... but it's pointless to mull over what could have happened had I done that.
Anyway the weather. the weather was.. odd. Thunderstorms and violent wind would pass through in a matter of hours before the sky would return to it's hazy red overcast, nature was in turmoil like never before. It was mid-november when we had started spending more time on the surface, except when the weather turned foul. The bunker was our refuge and shelter from the worst of it. Commander Rogan, a Wyoming native, his theory was that the nukes had broken the weather cycle in such a way that it would not be predictable for some time. I however had a theory that the war had awoken a slumbering ancient and that the weather, at least in this region would no longer be fully habitable for at least a few human lifetimes. It wouldn't be until earlier this year that my guess would be proven right and we found that Yellowstone had in fact erupted.
We're going to break camp tomorrow. We've been comfortable here for a few days, but we'll never find any other survivors just by sitting here, unless of course we're camped overtop of a bunker, but that's beside the point, though this close to Cheyenne mountain that's a very good possibility. Despite how well we've adapted to hiking through the ash, with the unfamiliar terrain, not to mention geological uplift it's been slow going. We might actually be at Norad if we keep this pace by next monday, that and there certainly is less ash and more dirt out here...so the ashfall isn't that bad as we travel south. Eventually we'll be able to head west.
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