Free Day by Day Armageddon: Beyond Exile by J.L. Bourne Page B

me that they deserved it . . .
    Every synapse ping of pain.
    I snapped out of this thought at the sound of another explosion. I felt a slight pressure change. This change caused me to pinch my nose, close my mouth and blow to equalize the pressure between my ears. The explosion did not damage the structure of the complex, but it did vibrate the alloy enough to induce a quick change in pressure inside. Jan and Tara were very upset at the thought of being captured and taken to a military-controlled camp. For all they knew at this moment, they would be used as breeding vessels; I would never let that happen. The explosions weren’t making anything better. Laura was crying and Annabelle yelped in fear and stuck her tail between her legs every time another went off. After thirty minutes of this, the explosions ceased. They must have been fresh out of plastique.
    The radio once again crackled.
    “Had ’nuff yet? Why not just open the doors and come out peacefully? You will not be harmed.”
    I asked the gunnery sergeant to give us until sunrise to pack our things before we opened the door. He bought it.
    I gathered the adults and we began brainstorming on what cards we could possibly play in this scenario. Options were limited. We could go on the run again and try to find another defensible location, but nothing would compare to Hotel 23. It would take us years to build anything as durable and safe.
    Jan suggested we take off in the aircraft. I explained to them that the Cessna could not possibly hold us all, let alone our gear, and that that option was out. Besides, the aircraft was not in excellent condition; the brake on one side was out. It was midnight and we had six good hours to come up with something. I turned to John, who would normally have an “outside the box” answer to give me. He claimed that there was no logical answer.
    I was not sure that they knew the alternate exit existed, but there were vehicles parked in that area near the fence. They probably knew about it. The front door was a decent option, but there was a growing group of undead there, still banging on the door. The other option was to trust the Marines. If they kept their word, they would simply let us go after they seized the compound.
    I had no desire to be on the run again with an older lady, two small children and a dog. We would be dead before the month ended at the claws and maws of those things. I just didn’t know what to do. I sat in my living quarters pondering on any possible solution to our conundrum. If only I had possessed some sort of leverage.
    I hadn’t put my belongings away since I let Dean have my other living area. A small box of what I had was still sitting in the corner of the room, waiting for the day I got tired of looking at it. Now it seemed that day would never come. I stared at the box for a few minutes, thinking of how we were going to transport all of our gear with us cross-country and survive. Walking over to the box I began to inventory its contents. Two extra flight suits, gloves, kneeboard for flying, Glock 17 handgun, three small family pictures,six boxes of 9mm ammunition and my Velcro name patch with, of course, my name, rank and wings embroidered into the fabric. I hadn’t worn this patch since civilization fell. What was the need? Finally, I pulled my wallet out of the box . . .
    Looking inside my wallet, I found numerous cards. I was an NRA member back when it existed. It wasn’t that long ago. I also had a card for what seemed like every video rental chain. Would I be exempt from the late fees if society ever rebuilt itself? I am sure the server that housed my felonious late fees data would long be rusted by the time the power grid was restored. If ever.
    Then came something that changed everything. Last month I had remembered looking at my military identification card with a feeling of nostalgia. It was two years until it expired. I stood there looking at it, running my thumb across the microchip