Tucson, Arizona - August 8th, 2023 0712 hours
George and Dorothy
“... meanwhile, from Seoul, fresh reports of North Korean artillery attacks on civilian districts across the DMZ follow the sinking of two South Korean destroyers which the North claimed were trespassing in their territorial waters. The North Korean leader has stated that they will no longer hold back when…”, George stared glassy eyed at the news report while considering what he needed to get done for the day.
Every now and again he’d scowl at something in the news that irritated him, then his wife would come stumbling out and meekly ask for his assistance. She was mobile, barely, and he had grown to be her caretaker over the years. At their age, the doctors said, there was little to be done to alleviate her issues. Of which there were many.
“Dear, can you make me a cup of coffee?” She asked as he was about to cuss at the news report.
“Ah, sure. Just a sec.” He responded, expertly disguising his previous irritation.
He poured a cup of coffee for his wife and joined her on the porch of their apartment where she was tending to a couple dozen potted plants.
“Here you go, honey. How’re the plants?”
She took the coffee from him shakily with a sweet smile. “Oh, well, they’re doing ok. The rain has helped.”
George took a deep breath of the hot sticky morning air. He was about to ask about the flowers when the emergency broadcast system squelched over his phone, causing both he and his wife to wince. A moment later the TV did the same thing for a moment before a severely unsettled looking broadcaster was centered on the screen with a finger to his ear and a wide eyed look of disbelief.
“What is it, George? What’s the big deal?” Dorothy called in from outside as she shuffled on swollen feet through the door.
“Hold on, we’re about to find out.”
“... there have been sightings of several hundred contrails that our sources within the White House are identifying as possible ballistic missiles launched from North Korea and China. Additionally, we are getting reports that Tokyo was hit by several high altitude EMP strikes only minutes ago. The White House has stated that they are monitoring…”
George’s attention was interrupted by a muffled explosion over the apartment. He stepped out noticing that several other tenants had stepped out to see what the commotion was. Others were already seen rushing about, gathering clothes and other sundries in a mad dash to get out of the city. Tucson was home to Davis Monthan Air Base, which contained lots of A-10’s and F-16’s. A prime target for a nuclear weapons strike.
His brain started churning over the implications of the news report as well as their location when his next door neighbor, John, stepped out of his own apartment staring up at the sky. “Hey, John, you see the report too? I take it?”
John glanced at him briefly, acknowledging the man more than he normally did with an actual response, “Hey, George, yeah. Look there, I don’t think these people are going to get a chance to leave.”
George followed his outstretched finger to where he pointed. He squinted in the direction of the rising sun and saw a puff of dark smoke in the distance that was slowly descending beneath one of the many mountains that ringed Tucson. He was about to say something to John when he noticed a dozen more trails of white smoke streaking across the sky originating from the west.
“Holy shit.” He muttered, when he looked over where John was standing he realized the man had already ducked back into his own apartment.
“Oh my God, George, can you believe this?” Dorothy drew his attention back into his own apartment, he started to go back to her when John ducked out once more and yelled around the corner to him.
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“George, plug your sinks and tub, fill them with water. Do it now.” His voice was eerily calm but urgent.
“George, is this real, honey?’ Dorothy turned slowly in disbelief. George pushed past her in haste to do as John had suggested. He plugged both the tub and sinks, then turned on the faucet to max. Dorothy stared at him in exasperation as he set to his task.
“Honey! I’m scared! Is this real!?”
George looked up, having momentarily gotten lost in his task, “Yes. Yes, dear, I think it is. That explosion earlier was something being shot down just over the mountains to the west. Sit down, love. There’s not much we can do til’ those missiles do what they’re going to do.”
His wife collapsed into her recliner and began to sob. He cradled her head against his chest until she calmed a bit, “It is what is, baby. Now, if we don’t die in the next half hour, we’re going to need to make a shopping list. Think about what we need and I’ll figure out how to get it.”
Several more explosions in the distance drew his attention to the fact he’d left the door open. “I’m going to see what that was, I’ll be back. Make our list.”
“Holy shit, sir, did you see that?” Antonio, the head maintenance guy exclaimed.
“Yeah, looks like some interceptors hit their targets. Look, there’s still half a dozen up there.”
George glanced at John and noticed that he was busy loading an AR magazine, which caused him to take another look and notice the large pistol on his hip with a couple magazines on the opposite side. Then he looked at what the two men were talking about.
Half a dozen more dark spots of smoke blotched the morning sky where presumably allied missiles had intercepted the enemy nuclear weapons. Unfortunately several still remained carving a lazy arc across the blue sky.
As he watched, a pair of smaller white streaks arced in at an incredible pace to turn two more of the larger streaks into expanding puffs of debris and black smoke. Antonio hooted, and even George felt himself smiling at the display. John had slipped away to grab more ammo and magazines, then stood with the other two men loading his equipment up.
“Hey, you think you’ll need that?” George asked John as they stared at the sky.
“Yeah, I do. Especially if they don’t intercept all of those missiles.”
George considered him carefully until Antonio called out more interceptors, “There’s only four left, here they come.”
He looked up at the impending end of the world and their potential saviors. So far every interceptor had seemingly been successful in killing an enemy missile. He hoped that would stay true. His mind was caught in a fog as he watched the quartet of missiles start their final approach. A thing he realized as the trails behind them were no longer cutting a path across the sky, making it look like they had zeroed on him alone.
“Oh shit, I don’t think they’re going to make it.” Antonio’s voice quivered with dread as he stated the thing that George’s own mind had determined as the most likely outcome. The interceptors just didn’t seem like they were going to make it in time.
They celebrated as one, then two more of the incoming nukes were miraculously eliminated in a much louder explosion that underpinned the seriousness of the situation they were in.
At some point even John appeared beside them to stare down their fate. They saw the streak of the third interceptor connect with its target. Unfortunately, this time it didn’t explode into a puff of black smoke like the last. It must have been what George had heard of referred to as a near miss, because now it was trailing visible flames and had somehow redirected to the south. Soon it was out of sight and their focus was all on the very last missile and its race against the smaller missile that was chasing it.
John must have seen something that the other two didn’t because suddenly he ducked into his apartment.
“COVER YOUR EYES!” He yelled as loud as he could to the two men. The residents who realized running was futile, or had gathered to watch the fireworks in the sky must have heard him too. Most turned just as the loudest noise he’d ever heard rolled over him, shaking him to his bones. The shockwave that followed shattered windows and cracked the taller trees in the courtyard of the apartment complex.
After a few moments of cowering on the ground, George wondered if he had been vaporized straight to the afterlife. When he opened his eyes he saw that he was still, in fact, living and standing with John and Antonio. Or, actually, crouching in fear. John stood cautiously while staring at an incredibly surreal lightshow over their heads.
“Why aren’t we dead?” Antonio asked while struggling to contain his own relief at being alive.
“That was an EMP, though I don’t think it was supposed to be set off that far up.” John was staring at the phone in his hand. George pulled his own out and noticed that the screen was on the fritz, displaying only a kaleidoscope of rainbow colors. A moment later it fizzled out completely, never to turn on again.