It was time for a break, however, when they came upon their fifth accident that required moving something. It was just south of Wilmington, Delaware on the Delaware Turnpike when they came across three trucks in one big pile and several cars flattened around and under them. One was a Wal-Mart tractor trailer and the other two were UPS trucks. They must have been all together when they crashed out of control.
The crew helped the passengers disembark the vehicles for a personal and stretch break. With the armed flight attendants as escorts, the ladies and children disappeared into some road brush for a few minutes to relieve themselves, with the men heading off in the opposite direction.
There was just enough room on one side to get the five vehicles through, and the crew drove them slowly past the accident. On the other side of the broken rigs, the captain, while relieving himself behind a crushed Porsche, saw a second Penske truck—a little smaller than the last one. It was next to a big SUV, as well as a second white truck that also looked like it used gas that was just sitting there undamaged several yards further down the road. All three vehicles were empty of people and in perfect shape. The owners had just left them there, and it looked like a good amount of fuel might be available. They had ten of the 5-gallon containers with them and they were able to fill all the vehicle tanks and still had enough to fill all the containers.
It took an hour to siphon all the gas, while the others enjoyed the warming sun, trying not to look at the odd frozen body in a vehicle here and there.
One hundred gallons of gas later, the captain suggested that they aim for a place he knew—Harford County Airport— just off the highway, about 15 miles away, and hopefully a good place to stay for the night.
They exited the highway for the first time and headed north on US 462. The captain had flown in and out of this little airport as a recreational flyer, and had spent the night in the area a couple of times. It was situated just north of Baltimore.
The area here, although it was still cold and the roads were still icy, was far less inhabited than where they had come from. Deer jumped across the road in front of them, and only a couple of dead motor vehicles were stranded in the road. Again, they didn’t see anybody outside, but now they could see people peeking at them from behind curtained windows, and wood smoke wafted in the air. Captain Mallory felt safer around here than in the city, and he wondered if the people they had left behind were still alive, and waiting for Uncle Sam to rescue them.
It took time. They drove carefully and slowly at 20 miles an hour and reached the airport without mishap. The gate was closed but not locked, and they drove in, noticing no other fresh tire tracks. They found the offices locked and didn’t want to break the door down. Instead, they found a relatively new and solid hangar with an easy-to-break lock on the hangar door. They opened it and, empty of the aircraft that normally resided there, it provided a lot of room—enough to get all the vehicles inside. It looked like someone’s private hangar. There was a room off to the side and a gas heater on the wall, and Captain Mallory asked John to see if it was connected. It was. He found some matches, lit the gas, and it immediately started warming the small room. There was a toilet off to one side and he discovered quickly that it too worked.
“The girls can bed down in this separate room tonight. It should be warm enough. We can set up the gas lamps and burners out here on the concrete, close the door, and be warmer than outside. What does everybody think?”
There was mass approval from the group, and they parked the vehicles inside and closed the door against the cold weather closing in outside. There was no electricity, but they had two gas lamps and even though it would be dark in a while, the gas in the room and the gas heaters they had bought would make it much warmer than being outside. The grill was brought out and immediately lit so it would also help warm the place. Chicken and sausages were laid out to thaw and the women and children were asked to cook dinner so the men could use the smaller room to change, use the bathroom, and get ready to spend the night in the larger, more uncomfortable space.
Chapter 2
‘Z’ Day 2 – Salt Lake City – Lee Wang – Satellites
The White House seemed back to normal when the power came on just an hour after dawn on Day 2. The White House was 300 miles south of ten Chinese termination squads—40 armed men driving south on I-95 in a convoy of eight old Ford and Chevy trucks and two smaller cars commandeered from the people who had owned them and who now lay dead in the streets around New York. They were about to leave the New York area and pass Newark Airport on the southbound side of the interstate, and didn’t see the tracks of Captain Mallory’s convoy joining the highway and making fresh tracks on the separated northbound lanes only an hour ahead of them.
Mo Wang’s termination squads had already checked out the first coordinates given to them over their satellite phones. There was nothing there, except a pile of empty five-gallon military fuel containers which they had destroyed. They then set several houses in the area on fire and shot and killed several of the inhabitants as they came out to see what was going on. The fires had spread quickly, destroying house after house.
The termination squads then left and within a couple of hours, Buck’s house no longer stood. It was just a black pile of destroyed timber now that the fire was dying down.
Like the northbound side of the highway, the southbound lanes were also a mass of metal everywhere, and it took their convoy quite some time to wind their way through it. At one point, it took them an hour to move a large truck out of the way. The Chinese men didn’t have the pushing power of the heavy fire engine in Captain Mallory’s group. The squads were heavily armed, and as the first convoy had learned, they had plastic hoses and canisters to siphon fuel out of the stationery vehicles around them.
They laughed when they came across the two lions, this time on their side of the highway. The previous convoy had scared them and they had jumped the crash barriers and been forced over to the other side. The two semi-tame lions were feeding on another body as the Chinese convoy came over the brow of the hill 100 from where they stood. They weren’t as hungry anymore, and they were beginning to get pissed off about these humans ruining their meals and the male roared in the direction of the stopped convoy with the lioness looking on.
Its reward for that roar was a dozen bullets peppering its body and the body of its mate at the same time, amid much laughter from the vehicles. The convoy moved forward and several more shots took the life of the dying beasts as each vehicle passed. Sport was sport after all to the humans, and somebody had to show who the more powerful species was.
The president was waiting for something to do. His frustration could be seen by the Colombian Ambassador as they ate sandwiches in the Oval Office. Much of the area was finally up and running with the old electrical generator finally patched into the main system. It could push out enough power to light and heat about half of the large building. There was enough fuel in the stationary vehicles on the grounds to keep it going since the generator was nothing more than an old Ford gasoline engine with a roof-top exhaust vent built into the building structure around it.
The military men guarding the White House were moved into several of the larger rooms on the first floor so they could have the same warmth and light the president now had.