Hello. I am Eric Weber. I am 26 years old at the time of this writing. I am with my girlfriend, Jen Stuart. It’s now December 2019. I have no idea about the date. Running for your life makes you forget those things. Not that digital watches and cell phones are of any help in our situation. The assault on the town’s defensive grid also brought with it that bizarre energy field which rendered modern gadgets useless. The weather outside is freezing so we’re holed up in this abandoned hunting cabin and I decided to make the most of our time here by writing these notes. Or do we call them memoirs? A diary? We intend to reach another reported safe area across the border in Saskatchewan, Canada. There are other safe zones mentioned in the last report we heard but they’re all too far. Hopefully, we’ll make it to an existing safe zone. The list of sites was shrinking day-by-day. But the report we had was now a week old, a day before the Great Falls Defense Area fell. That’s in Montana, by the way. We’re lucky we got away. I really don’t know if it’s still valid but what other option did we have?
I am human, by the way (in case some other entity gets hold of this record). We were the dominant species on this planet until what we call the Event happened. Now, we don’t know who’s the top dog on this planet we call Earth.
CHAPTER 1
Beginnings
“Hi, Mom!”
She was seated in front of the television in the living room, watching the news. Some breaking news was being broadcasted.
“Hi, honey. Dinner?”
“I’m good, I have dinner with Jen before I brought her back to her apartment,” I replied as I took my place beside her. She appeared engrossed in the unfolding drama before her eyes. I looked at the news ticker on the screen. It shouted “TERRORIST ATTACK ON SECRET GOVERNMENT BASE?”
“Not secret anymore, huh?” I flippantly commented and immediately regretted it.
“Eric! That’s serious!” Mom objected, pointing at the screen. “It’s in South Dakota! That’s virtually next door!”
“Really? Sorry, mom. My mind was somewhere else. I guess I’m just happy from being with Jen. With exam time coming up, the only time I get to see her is when I bring her home.”
“Nice girl. I hope you two don’t break up,” Mom replied, turning her attention back to the screen.
Following her lead, I watched what had caught her attention. Apparently, something happened at a top-secret government installation in the South Dakota Badlands. In an area owned by the US Air Force somewhere in the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. The newscaster said that the media was not allowed into the site or anywhere near it. I could see an endless parade of military equipment and soldiers passing in the background. Abrams tanks, Bradleys, MLRS launchers, MRAPs, you name it. Helicopters flew overhead and the telltale contrails of jets flying in the direction of a black and purple cloud in the distance. Considering that the news teams were not allowed within a thirty-mile radius of the site, the thick swirling cloud must be enormous. From time to time, flashes of light could be seen streaking through the unnatural miasma.
“That’s not fire-induced smoke,” I commented.
“What makes you say that? Those colors could be chemically induced,” said my ever-observant Mom. Hands down, she beat me in the brains department. A work-at-home accountant, her expertise in her profession was matched by the number of accounts she handled. I know how many firms and individuals she had as her clients. I do the client management updates. Well, until I get a job. But there were not many employment opportunities for a history graduate with a few masteral units under his belt. I was waiting for word from a high school on the outskirts of town but that’s it. I have forgotten how many resumes I have sent out. Even to non-related fields. I just want to find work nearby so I could be closer to Jen, my mom, and possibly enroll in additional post-graduate subjects. Academic credentials do matter in the real world. That’s a fact I am now learning the hard way.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
“Got me there. But I don’t understand the overkill in the military’s reaction. Tanks? Attack helicopters? Jets? If I am not mistaken, there’s already a brigade worth of army assets in the background. I don’t believe a mere terrorist attack would warrant such a response. Unless you’ve got a division’s worth of attackers, which I doubt. Immigration and customs wouldn’t be that idiotic,” I answered.
“We do have more information on the installation which is the subject of an alleged terrorist attack. According to the military, it is a scientific research facility jointly run by NASA, DARPA, and the Armed Forces with the participation of leading private scientific institutions such as…” the newsman said who then proceeded to rattle off a list of companies.
Impressive, I thought. A who’s who of cutting-edge scientific research. Even I have heard of them.
“As to the installation’s research, we have been informed by unofficial sources that it was a large stage 3 muon collider, an allegation which our station’s scientific panel has already declared as improbable, saying that a muon collider, of any size, is still a theoretical concept undergoing preliminary examination. We bring you now back to our station where our panel of scientific experts awaits,” the man continued.
Oh, I get to listen to a bunch of talking heads. I'm out of here, I thought with disgust. They’ll probably end up contradicting each other. But it never devolves into a fistfight. If there’s that possibility, I would stick around.
“Good night, Mom. I guess I’ll call it a night and go to bed. It’s nearly midnight anyway,” I told Mom.
“Go ahead, honey. I’ll try to see if there’s any clue on what’s happening. Terrorists! On American soil! What are our taxes doing?” she exclaimed.
That’s my good old Mom. In the end, it’s a question of taxes, I thought. I looked back when I reached the second-floor landing and saw my Mom still glued to the television. Smiling, I went to my room. It had been several years since my Dad passed away. A massive coronary. I am glad that Mom was able to get over the loss. It took time but we now have some degree of normalcy in our lives though there’s still that void which cannot be filled.
Entering my room, I went to the bathroom, cleaned myself, brushed my teeth, and changed into shorts and an old but clean shirt. There’s nothing like wearing a well-used cotton t-shirt on your skin. It’s like an old friend and a reminder of comfortably familiar things. I promptly fell asleep.
I woke up to the sleep of breakfast. A quick visit to the bathroom to wash my face and I rushed down to the kitchen. Hungry would be the perfect description of my condition, though my grumbling stomach would say famished would be a better word.
“Good morning, Mom,” I murmured as I sat down at the table. To be honest, I was still half-asleep.
“Good morning to you too, sleepyhead. Help yourself. I have to go to three client conferences in the next town. It won’t take long. I’ll be back this afternoon.”
I then noticed she was wearing her professional clothes. The one which says “I am an exceptional professional, and what I charge for my services is worth my expertise.”
I stood up and went to help her.
“Don’t worry on my account, Mom. I’ll take care of my breakfast. I wouldn’t want you to be late.”
“That’s a dear boy,” she smiled and kissed me on the cheek. “Bye, Eric. I do have to hurry.”
I got my hands on a plate of pancakes and a cup of coffee and sat down on the breakfast nook. I could see Mom’s car backing out of the driveway and driving down the street. I never saw her again.
Digging into the food, I noticed the small LED kitchen television was on and set on the news channel. Mom did take her news feeds seriously. Sometimes, she would surf from one news channel to another just to make sure what she was seeing and hearing bore some truth in it. My tendency towards “reading between the lines” came from her. No surprise there.
A different reporter was on the screen. The news ticker read that the man was now reporting from Rapid City. As I continued to listen, all non-military personnel have been told to evacuate towards the city. It also appeared that the inhabitants of nearby towns have already been or being evacuated. Scores of soldiers and military vehicles, including several tanks, were stationed in the downtown area where the reporter based himself. News outlets were still clueless about what really happened and the government was sticking to its terrorist attack theory.
Just how big a terrorist attack could that be? Against a scientific installation? If they had that kind of manpower and firepower, there are other more viable and important targets, I mused.
Then the camera shifted. It showed the familiar cloud, now of gargantuan proportions, on the horizon.
WTF?
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