For now, the Qi Jia government used the former American names for mapping purposes, but that too would eventually change. The leaders fashioned themselves as modern-day Columbuses or the Pilgrims, discovering a “new land” that was already occupied and taking it over as if it wasn’t. A small command base was set up in a central city in each of the states—the only cities left intact and with electrical grids—and a communication line was set up exclusively between Denver and each of those command cities: New York City, Miami, Dallas, Chicago, Anchorage, Toronto, and Seattle. All other communication on the continent was restricted to proximal two-way radios and handwritten, air-transported messages. It was far more primitive than they liked but necessary due to the threat of international communication.
As winter spread across the country, the commanders weren’t able to control as much as they wanted, but they weren’t worried about the few Americans who may have survived doing much either. Nonetheless, as they cut down their domestic troop movement and communication network, they maintained the entirety of their naval presence between North America and Hawaii. Like a war version of kick the can—the can was in Hawaii, but good luck getting to it.
Then again, Hawaii remained impenetrable for Qi Jia too, shield up and with the most advanced defense system ever made. Every one of Qi Jia’s boats, planes and even rockets crossing within a ten-mile radius of the island chain’s shores had been destroyed. Their collective wreckage had already formed a significant scrap metal reef around the islands, and there was no telling how deep Hawaii’s ammunition stash was. Reluctantly, the Seven commanders gave up on trying to break in with force, and began planning other ways to eventually bring down the lone surviving state.
The American military had designed Hawaii as a “last resort” base for the President—who hadn’t survived—and the leadership of each of their military branches. In 2015, a second Pentagon had been opened there—although it had six sides—and most American military operations were directed from Hawaii. Qi Jia’s leaders figured the former population of the islands, 1.5 million, had likely been reduced by over 90%, but that didn’t make the defense system any weaker.
Hawaii was untouchable as far as the former United States went, but that was it. The Seven commanders were intent on not letting any survivors get there while they conquered the rest of America. The Americans could keep Hawaii… for now.
FORTY-TWO: “Where’s Eddie?”
After saving Hayley’s life, Eddie had taken his remaining men down into the valley and led them to Denver. He shot the only one of his men who vocally opposed his temporary truce with Danny and the Americans. The others pledged their silence and knew the consequences if they went against their word.
In Denver he told the military commanders he and his men had pursued a band of renegade troops to Cheyenne, and he had lost almost his entire company in a large battle at the depot. The commanders had heard a great deal about that firestorm at the train yards and were surprised anyone had escaped. They asked Captain Eddie if he had any idea as to the whereabouts of the renegade soldiers, and he told them he’d tried to track them west but had been cut off by a large storm.
Eddie’s story was convincing. Impressed by Eddie and his men, the commanders granted each a post of his choice in the national army. A few of his men asked to be sent back out into the field, and they were assigned to other African companies. Eddie was offered, and eagerly accepted, a leadership position inside the Intelligence Commission, Qi Jia’s second-tier command unit. He was promoted to major, commended as a hero for his bravery in Cheyenne, and was allowed to select his own personal security team. His brother Lazzo joined him, and he likewise retained the services of two of his most loyal men, Omar and Cabo.
Eddie had no intention of staying at the Intelligence Commission headquarters once winter passed. But for now, he couldn’t pass up the luxury of being able to monitor the entire army’s actions across the continent from one warm location. Additionally, being less than seventy miles from Estes Park, he could keep a close eye on the last place he’d seen the Americans. They’d never have gotten out of there before the snow covered the mountains on the other side. There was far too much troop movement in the area for them to pass through unnoticed. Eddie was convinced they’d have tried to hide and wait it out and, as a result, they would be trapped in Estes Park for the winter. Eddie was content to wait. Cabo, Omar and Lazzo made sure Eddie got every update from there, including the recent assignment of 123 Qi Jia men to the Estes Park valley for the winter. It seemed odd to Eddie that they would keep so many men in such a small town so close to Denver. Why not just bring them here? Perhaps there was more to that arrangement than met the eye. The report showed the company had been split into three groups of forty-one, each positioned at the three possible western routes out of Estes Park. Another eighty men were stationed at the summit of Trail Ridge Road at the Alpine Visitor Center, and yet another eighty in the town of Granby, down the other side of Trail Ridge Road. Clearly he was missing something. Each of those five stations had to submit weekly status and fatality reports, and Eddie made it clear that a copy of each of those reports was to be brought directly to him.
FORTY-THREE: (Ryan) “Thanksgiving Day”
Thanksgiving was a strange day. Sure, it was on Thursday like every other year, but it didn’t feel like a Thursday. It didn’t feel like any weekday. It just felt like a day. It was hard to explain. We told ourselves we needed to be positive for Emily’s sake, but truthfully we all needed the hope. Sitting in the cave, day after miserable day, made us realize even more how dire our own—and the entire country’s—situation really was. We had listened one night as Kate related our circumstances to her dad’s terminal cancer. His clock had been ticking, just as we felt ours were now. She knew at the time that his last day was coming soon, but had no way of knowing exactly when. It was an ominous feeling. It really sucked. But wallowing in that suckiness wasn’t going to get Kate anywhere and wasn’t going to heal her dad. He wanted her to be positive. The number of days he had left didn’t matter as much as what he did with each of them. The room full of nods said it all, as we absorbed the emotion in her every word. We all got it. Perhaps not to the degree that Kate did, but we understood the concept in general. We needed to make the most of the life we had left. We each needed to give optimism a chance.
With it being Thanksgiving, I guessed there was no better time to give optimism a shot. Here goes.
Modern cave life was great. Well, as great as it could be anyway. It helped no one in our group dressed or acted like a Neanderthal. Though Tara probably would have looked pretty dang good. We had discussed what it would be like if “Wooly” had been here. It was hard to imagine.
In any case, it’s a strange process for a human to transition from a sunlight creature to a nocturnal one, sleeping all day and staying up all night. But that switch did have its benefits. The stars were amazingly bright this high up in the mountains. That was always incredible—romantic, euphoric, terrific, all of the above. But it was also quite eerie. We could hear laughter echo up the valley from the troops below us, see the smoke from their fires in the distance, and hear the gunshots from their hunting and drinking games. They were “free to be.” We were trapped. Here in the most openly beautiful state in America, other than maybe Hawaii, we were prisoners of war. It sucked. Hey, stay positive.