2131 CE

Harris Launch Facility

North of Eglin AFB

Elisha stood on the terrace looking across the wide flat ground to launch pad 12E as his wrist pad showed the countdown to launch. 8 Hours – 32 Minutes. He knew seconds wouldn’t appear until the countdown was at 2 minutes and counting. On the launch pad sat the Aeolus, steam rising from the vents along its fuselage. From his vantage point he could not see the area around the base of the launch pad but knew it would be a hive of activity as it was prepared for launch. All those last-minute preparations, the loading of food and water, compressed purified air, and medical supplies. Those chosen for the flight would be down below doing last minute fittings of their spacesuits and culling their few personal belongings down one more time, each only allowed 0.1 kilograms of weight and sized to fit in a box 100 mm x 250 mm x 75 mm. It was such a small thing to put all one held dear. One’s entire life reduced to a small box. But Elisha knew the necessity of it for the biggest issue for spaceflight was weight.

Dariel and he had spent days sorting their personal effects, arguing, and debating on what was important. The chips that held photographs and those that held documents, most now worthless. Deeds to property, social security cards for a system that failed ten years ago, what there was left to fail, and personal records of which only medical records were deemed important enough to bring on the launch. Then there were the small physical items. A drawing set from the 1960’s used by a distant relative of Dariel’s, an architect from Miami. A figurine from 1940’s Japan that had been passed down through the years until Elisha came into its possession with the death of his grandmother. Miami. Japan. Elisha considered how each no longer existed in their own way. Miami was a ruin, just empty towers in a shallow sea, so contaminated nothing lived in its waters. Japan as a land still existed, but after the natural disasters of the twenty-first century became so frequent the government couldn’t keep up and eventually agreed to be bought by China, just as South Korea had done five years prior.

Elisha knew today’s map of the world was vastly different from even a few decades prior. In the end, it didn’t matter. He looked at Aeolus. The last ship to leave North America for the station on Europa. Previous flights had included the stations on Ganymede and Enceladus. Once Aeolus launched, that would be it for the evacuations from the planet, everyone else would be left to their own devices for survival. There would be none of the old governments left, no military, just a lawless world left to continue its slow decline into death.

Russia had taken on the habitation of Mars, banking on technological improvements in terraforming, predicting by 2230 the planet would have an atmosphere. Benjie, one of the scientists of the Harris Launch Facility said otherwise. Benjie had been stationed in Huntsville, then transferred to Harris once the launch facility was ready for operation. After Cape Canaveral succumbed to the rising oceans and the damage from the hurricanes of 2096, 2098, then the biggest hurricane in recorded history in 2105, the rebuilding began north of Eglin Air Force Base in the panhandle of Florida. It had been a desperate race against time.

His wrist pad pinged, and he saw China was launching their last ship, the Kongqi. Smoke billowed out around the base of the ship, then the massive thing began to rise. China had built the largest ships ever to leave Earth’s gravity. Rockets with ten large engines lifting them from their launch pads. As large as they were, there were still more people left behind than were going into space to China’s stations. China had a small settlement on the moon with plans to re-terraform the Earth, but most of their population relocation was to Europa and Titan.

Elisha saw the time knowing Dariel would be on shift for another hour. He would go back to their quarters to wait for him. He turned to head back when his wrist pad pinged again.

“Anry? What’s up?”

“Where are you?”

Anry’s tone was flat, and Elisha knew it was something bad. The scientist was no good at keeping secrets or lying.

“On the terrace, but heading back in.”

“Come to my office.”

“Now?”

There was a pause, a deafening silence, then an exhalation so loud Elisha could hear it.

“Elisha, we need to talk now.”

“On my way.”

Going down the two flights of steps, Elisha rushed past others going in the opposite direction. On the ground floor, he swung right, through the double doors and down the corridor that accessed all the administrative offices and records for the facility. Anry had become the leader of the evacuation, the man who understood the rockets used, their capacity, and what those leaving could expect during the launch, the flight, and more importantly, on landing at one of the stations. The man with the worst job in the country, the pseudo leader of what was left of the United States of America, all 23 of the states.

Amalia came out of records with a notepad in hand, scrolling through data.

“Hey, what’s going on?” asked Elisha.

Amalia looked up, frowned, then held the notepad by her side, screen turned toward her leg.

“Have you talked to Anry?”

“Going there now.”

She nodded. “Prepare yourself.” Then she was walking down the corridor behind him as he turned to watch wondering how bad it could be.

He felt his heart racing and a nervousness overtake him. He wondered if there was some problem with the launch. If there was a mechanical issue, could they fix it in time, or would the ship sit on the launchpad for months waiting for the next window of opportunity with the possibility it would never get off the ground. There was the European ship, the Gran Arca, struck with a handheld laser and exploded on the launchpad in Medano del Loro. In the UK, the Taranis exploded shortly after takeoff. It was believed to be a leak in a fuel line. In China, they were lucky for their rocket failure was during testing, the Dianmu exploded on the launch pad. The reason is unknown, but conspiracies said it was sabotage. Luckily, the remaining launches were successful.  

The door to Anry’s office was closed, and Elisha knocked, two raps against the metal door.

“Come in.”

Opening the door slowly, nervously, Elisha stuck his head through the gap. “You wanted to see me?”

“Elisha, come in. Close the door behind you.”

Not good, he thought as he took a seat opposite Anry. He saw the shift of the eyes, looking away for a moment, then focusing on him.

“We have had to make some adjustments for launch.”

“What kind of adjustments?”

“Passenger list.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck. We’re being pushed to take a family out of Texas on board. It seems precious metal is still a thing.”

“And who gets bumped.”

“Elisha, we need you. Your medical background with space travelers and with your new virus research, you are invaluable.”

“You’re not suggesting…no.”

“Dariel has been removed from the passenger list. I’m sorry, but we can afford to lose a technician.”

“Leaving Dariel behind is just a loss of a technician?”

“Elisha. Fuck. I know. It’s not right, but someone higher up overrode us, saying we had to take on the new passengers and of those going we needed the couples who could reproduce and if a couple were to be broken up, you-”

“Fuck you.”

“Elisha.”

“You’re serious. Dariel is being forced to stay, but I’m supposed to get on the Aeolus and leave?”

“I think Dariel would want you to go on if he was unable.”

“That is not for you to say and…the answer is no.”

“No? You guys don’t have a choice. Dariel is not on the passenger list as of this morning.”

“I’m not going either. If he stays, I stay.”

“But we need you.”

“Not bad enough evidently,” Elisha replied, getting to his feet. “I thought you were in charge.”

“Of the launch program, not the passenger list.”

“Well, whoever is, tell them to fuck off.” Elisha left, slamming the door behind him fighting back tears. He rushed down the corridor until at the exit that led to the bunkhouses where the staff and crews were set up.

He crossed the yard feeling the heat of the sun penetrate his clothing. He adjusted his hat to protect his face as he cut down the gravel path to C-23, the building that Dariel and he shared with other technicians and scientists.

The interior was just cool enough to be tolerable. Elisha moved through the common living area, passed the food prep area with its small dining area of tables crammed together, into the corridor. He passed the toilet and bathing facilities, then door after door of sleeping quarters until at C-23-20, the room he shared with Dariel. With a floor area less than 1.5 meters wide by 3 meters long, the room was tight and when the bed was folded down, impossible to move from one end to the other. At the end of the room, a small window that afforded him a view of the top of Aeolus on its launch pad in the distance. He stood at the window, hands on the wall either side of it as he looked at the ship Dariel and he were supposed to be leaving on.

“Shit.”

He felt lost, unsure what to do, and all he wanted to do at that moment was lie on the bed and try not to think of it. He pulled it down and climbed on still dressed, kicking his shoes off letting them drop to the floor. He lay in the fetal position trying to slow his breathing, feeling his heart race in his chest.

After what seemed a long time, he drifted off into a restless sleep.

A squeak and he knew it was Dariel coming in. He opened his eyes to see him closing the door.

“You’re off work already?”

“Already? I worked an hour of overtime.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost seven. Why are you in bed?”

Elisha sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed facing Dariel. He watched him strip off the coveralls working each arm free, then each leg until standing in just white boxers.

“Come sit next to me.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Sit.”

Dariel sat next to him knowing something was wrong. Elisha couldn’t face him at first but one big inhale of breath, slowly released, he looked at him. Into the familiar brown eyes, he stared for a moment gathering his thoughts.

“I met with Anry about a change in the passenger list.”

“So, it’s true. The Williams out of Dallas have pushed some off the list.”

“Yeah.”

“And I’m off the list.”

“Yes.”

“But you’re not.”

“I’m not going without you.”

“Elisha. You can’t stay here. It’s a death sentence and you know it. Besides they need-”

“No. No, this isn’t happening. I’m not leaving you…not like this.”

“But Elisha-”

“Dariel, I’ve already told him I’m not going. After the launch, we’ll figure something out.”

“Oh, Elisha, this is crazy.”

“We’ve worked so hard to be a part of the passenger list and, and, some rich fuck just buys his way in and-”

“Elisha, don’t.”

Dariel leans over and hugs Elisha, rocking gently back and forth. “We’ll think of something, figure out a place to go that might be safe.”

“Yes, we’ll figure something out.”

The hug lingers, then they kiss gently, then more passionately, desperately. Longing and desire mixed with emotional uncertainty and Elisha was pushing Dariel back and sliding his hand down the bare stomach into the boxers.

He touches Dariel, manipulates him to full erection. He slides off the bed to the floor on his knees, getting between Dariel’s legs. He pushes them apart as he moves up close. He slides his hands along the thighs until they are either side of the cock. With his right he strokes Dariel, slowly, gently, feeling the thick cock flex in his grasp. He leans to it, kissing the head then taking it in his mouth. He loves the feel of Dariel in his mouth. The flared head sliding over his tongue and pushing at the back of his throat. Hands hold his head as he moves on the cock.

Holding his head still, the cock lying on his tongue, he feels it flex against it, and he knows how aroused Dariel has become. He slips his mouth off the cock and stands. He unzips his coveralls letting them fall around his ankles. He pushes down his boxers to free his cock and steps out of his clothing as he climbs over Dariel. Staring down into the longing eyes, he rocks his hips back and forth rubbing his ass over the hard cock. Back and forth, over and over, until Dariel is gasping for breath, and he feels the slickness of the cock against his ass.

“Elisha,” Dariel utters breathlessly.

Elisha rises, reaches back and takes Dariel in hand. He feels the slick drooling head and slides his fingers down the shaft stroking it. He teases Dariel, increasing both of their aroused states. Then he holds the cock steady as he lowers himself to it.

Elisha feels the wet cock touch his opening, press against it as he lets his weight carry him downward. The breach sends shivers up his spine, and he moans as the cock penetrates him. He throws his head back while descending. He takes the head, then centimeter after centimeter of the shaft until sitting on Dariel’s abdomen.

He has all of him. Can feel the cock inside him. The fullness of it. The sheer pleasure it gives him, to be penetrated by Dariel. He rocks his hips, then rises. Slowly, gently, feeling the cock slide through his tightness until he has just the head trapped inside him. Then he descends all the way. Over and over, slowly building up his pace until in a fuck. He stares into the blue eyes and sees what he feels. He moves with a steady rhythm, up and down, working his ass on Dariel’s cock. He feels fingers dig into his thighs and sees Dariel’s mouth fall open with a heavy moaning grunting breathing.

“I love you,” Dariel utters.

Elisha knows it to be true. Can see it in the eyes as he increases his pace. He moves with a physicality that makes the bed rock then squeak in rhythm to their fuck. His own cock hardens and flops noisily against Dariel’s abdomen as he drops down harder and harder. He can’t get enough. He wants that cock inside him, every centimeter. He loves the fullness it gives him, the connection in this intimacy.

Elisha takes his own cock in hand and strokes with the hurried desperate pace of their fuck. His hand moves with a blur as he slams his ass down on Dariel. The room seems to grow hotter. Sweat beads up on his skin and trickles down his face. He relishes the heat of his own body, how his exertion manifests itself. Muscles that flex and burn with his exertion. Every breath is a gasp for oxygen. And his cock thickens and becomes so sensitive he can’t hold back.

Dariel’s head rolls back and the eyes close and Elisha looks along the body. Sees its aroused state. The hard nub of each nipple. The flexing muscles of the abdomen. The skin glistening with its sweaty release. Then he throws his own head back and cries out. His cock flexes in his hand, then erupts. He shudders and jerks with each ejaculation. He feels his opening spasm around Dariel’s cock as he keeps moving up and down. It’s too much. All of it. Every sensation pushing him to full release.

Dariel cries out while shoving upward. It nearly bucks him off, but Elisha balances himself as Dariel pumps cum into his depths. A shove upward, then another, and another, until Dariel falls still gasping for breath.

Elisha falls still and looks down. Cum covers Dariel’s chest and stomach, then he notices a wad roped across the face and he leans down and licks it off.

Elisha knows Dariel is still hard. Knows with familiarity and form the feel of the cock inside him. When Dariel stirs, they kiss. When he moves Elisha is soon on his back and hands holding each ankle. He is spread, exposed, still penetrated, and Dariel begins to move inside him. His own cock stirs, never allowed to go flaccid.

Usually, Dariel builds their fuck up slowly, but he is desperate. The face shows its longing, and the way he bangs against Elisha’s ass shows his fear, his frustration, his relief knowing he’ll not be left behind. Their fuck is physical. Their utterances were profane and pleading.

Then Dariel is on top of Elisha, hot sweaty skin against hot sweaty skin. They move slickly against each other. Dariel takes Elisha by the hands; fingers laced together and pushes them upward pinning them to the bed as he grinds cock into Elisha’s depths. The hips move with each push, the cheeks flex.

“You should go,” Dariel whispers.

“No…not without you,” Elisha utters in reply as he runs his hands over the sweaty back.

Dariel kisses and nips at the neck, the right shoulder while pumping cock into Elisha’s depths. He tugs on the right earlobe, tongues the curvature of the ear, then kisses him. Open mouth, tongues dueling, it is a kiss of two fully intimate with the other. There is no holding back, and soon Dariel is thrusting harder, jerking and shaking with release.

Elisha is rock hard, cock drooling with his arousal, and he lays back and watches it disappear as Dariel sits on it. There is no playful teasing. No slow gentle descent. Dariel drops down and moves with a wild abandon.

“Dariel,” Elisha utters while clutching the bed.

It doesn’t take long and soon the sweaty, gasping for breath Dariel takes his load.

“Five hours, forty-two minutes until launch. All staff part of the evacuation flight need to be at the pre-launch lounge within one hour,” came the announcement over the loudspeakers as Dariel led Elisha to the food prep area.

“Our stuff is already loaded,” said Elisha.

“I doubt it is still on board. I saw crew going up on the lift earlier, coming down with boxes stacked on the deck of the lift.”

“What do you want to eat? Asian, Mexican, Italian-”

“Get me an Asian one. I’m sick of the Mexican meals.”

Elisha pulled two MRE Meals out and dropped them on a tray. “What do you want to drink?”

“Water,” Dariel replied.

Elisha pulled a boxed water and a bottled coffee. He thought the taste was bitter but craved the caffeine hit.

In the small dining area, there was someone at every table. In the corner sat Luna, one of the technicians in Dariel’s group.

“Hey Luna, can we sit?” asked Dariel.

“Of course.”

Sitting opposite Luna, they tore into the MREs and began to eat.

“Hey guys, I heard,” said Luna.

“Heard? You mean about the passenger list change,” said Elisha.

“Yes. Elisha are you going-”

“No, of course not. I’m not leaving Dariel.”

“Benjie said you wouldn’t go. I just can’t believe they did it for that asshole. The last thing we need up there is some rich fuck out of Texas.”

Elisha was surprised at her bitterness for Benjie, and she had never been on the list.

“Nothing we can do about it,” Elisha replied bluntly.

Benjie came in, grabbed a MRE and sat next to Luna, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I assume you’re talking about the passenger list,” said Benjie.

“Yeah, something like that,” uttered Luna.

“Are you going?” Benjie was looking at Elisha.

“No,” Elisha replied.

Benjie leaned closer and lowered his voice. “There may still be a way.”

“What do you mean?” asked Dariel.

“I mean another rocket.”

“Benjie!” Luna whispered, “if that rumor is true, it won’t be safe.”

“Safer than staying here, and it’s not a rumor.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Elisha.

“Up in the Montana territories, a place that was North Dakota, one of the tech billionaires out of Seattle had a rocket built at the site of an old missile silo.”

“How do you know?” asked Dariel.

“A pilot that was brought on board to fly it was recruited to fly one of the relocation rockets. It left the owner without a pilot, so he bribed or threatened the right person and got on a launch two months ago.”

“How do you know this pilot?”

“He’s one of the pilots for Aeolus.”

Elisha and Dariel sat back and took it in. A rocket in the north territories that could take them to one of the stations. Dariel frowned then leaned forward again.

“But we’d need a pilot.”

“I know someone.”

“A pilot that can fly a rocket that hasn’t been pressed into service. Who?”

“Bastian.”

“Bastian?! No fucking way.”

“Who?” asked Elisha.

“He washed out of the program. An addict who can’t stay clean. Last I heard he was still swallowing Jelixir and Magic and snorting Redow,” said Dariel.

“Probably, but we can get him detoxed and cleaned up. It’s a long journey so plenty of time to get him clean,” said Benjie.

“This sounds like a disaster waiting to happen,” said Elisha.

“Worse than trying to survive in what’s left of a civilization after its government runs off into space to start over?”

The table fell silent as Elisha looked at Dariel and shrugged.

“What do you know of this rocket?” asked Elisha.

“It was designated G12. It’s west of Minot and he mentioned Berthold, not sure how that place plays into it but then said south of Blaisdell.”

“Never heard of those places,” said Dariel.

“Most are probably abandoned now,” said Luna.

“There are maps of those silos still online. I bet we could find it,” said Dariel.

“And if we could find it?” asked Benjie.

There is a long silence.

“Where do we find Bastian?” asked Elisha.

“He hangs out at Launch Pad 4B. It was supposed to be the one he piloted a rocket from when it was his turn,” said Luna.

“We need to do some planning and fast for once the Aeolus is gone things will go to shit in a hurry,” said Benjie.

“We’ll need transportation,” said Elisha.

“I know where we can get wheels suitable for a long journey,” said Dariel. “Back on Eglin there are a few of those rapid troop deployment trucks. ICV…something or other, I don’t remember what they called them. But they’re solar powered, have six-wheel drive, and each large enough to carry sixteen soldiers. I figure two of them should give us plenty room for gear and a place to sleep in rotation.”

“But those are light armor, right?” asked Luna.

“Yeah, not for heavy combat situations.”

“Well, you know what it is like up the Mississippi River especially north Mississippi and western Tennessee.”

“We’ll recruit a couple of soldiers to come with us.”

“And how will you do that? Just march on base and ask for volunteers?”

“Okay, I’ve not thought it out and maybe we don’t need any soldiers. We have weapons and some training with them.”

“This could go sideways…but I can’t think of a better plan. We just have to get across the Mississippi somewhere other than Memphis.”

“The river is really down with the drought. I wonder if we can cross it before we get that far north?” said Dariel.

“I saw trucks sunk in mud up to the middle of the cabs when we flew in from California,” said Benjie.

“But that was three years ago,” said Dariel.

“We’ll need to go as soon as possible after the Aeolus lifts off,” said Elisha.

“Or we use the lift as a distraction. Be prepared to move before it lifts off and when those engines ignite and everyone is watching, we move.”

“This is crazy. Is this really doable?” asked Elisha.

“We won’t know until we try,” said Dariel.

 Bastian sat against a concrete pier of the abandoned launch pad, the very one he was supposed to pilot the last rocket to utilize it for the mass evacuation. Looking across the lowland area, pine stands circling each launch pad obscuring the ground around each, he eventually focused on 12E with Aeolus. About three quarters of the rocket was visible, the oval shaped fuselage rising to the control module at its top. He reflected on the details of the rocket. Three stages, the first to get it off the pad and up to half the speed to break Earth’s gravity, with the next pushing it out of the atmosphere and into orbit. A couple of orbits, building up more speed, then firing the final stage while breaking Earth’s orbit and going to open space heading toward Europa. He could picture it, the Aeolus moving through space, accelerating for nearly ten minutes to get to final speed. The acceleration would be gradual but eventually reaching 100,000 to 120,000 km/h. It was still a trip of over thirteen months.

Holding out his right hand watching it shake and tremble, he wondered where he could get another fix. The base security rounded up his two dealers and he had gone two days without anything. He was contemplating suicide, for what reason did he have to continue to live. The planet was fucked, and those left behind would soon realize what that meant. One estimate had life spans dropping from sixty to forty, or less. Complete human extinction on the planet by 2190 and that was the most conservative estimate.

Leaning back, he looked up at the grey sky, filled with moisture laden clouds that would rain down on them later in the day. It kept the landscape green, at least until the dry months arrived and the acids built up in the soil would then start another round of plant die off. He started to close his eyes to try to get some much-needed sleep when he saw two people coming his way. The large hats and face shields concealed the faces, and the loose clothing hid any definition of the body within, so he had no idea who was approaching, thinking it could not be good, whoever was coming his way.

As the two people drew near, he considered them. Physically. Male or female he wondered, knowing it didn’t really matter to him. He had lived with both and had sex with both so often he couldn’t decide if he had a preference. Part of his problem was the sex was never about an intimacy with another person. It was just scratching that itch, feeding the craving for sex. Just a means of getting off. He tried to remember the last time he had sex with someone. The fucking pills filled one craving and took away another. He chuckled at the cruelty of it as the two people came near, casting their shadows over him.

“Bastian? Are you Bastian the guy who was supposed to pilot the Garuda?” said the taller of the two.

“That’s me. What do you want?”

Bastain watched the two people remove their face shields squinting at the glare of light off the washed-out concrete pier.

“I’m Dariel, and this is Luna.”

“Hey,” Luna mumbled.

“What brings you out to this abandoned place?”

“We’re looking for a pilot.”

“I think the Aeolus is crewed up, is she not?”

“Yes, but we’re not talking about the Aeolus.”

“There is no other rocket.”

“What if we said there might be one available to us.”

“I’d say you’re crazy. What kind of rocket could it be? Some junk thing meant to take cargo up?”

“No. One built by a rich fuck who intended not to be left behind, but eventually secured a place on one of our rockets.”

“And his rocket is ready to fly?”

“We think so.”

Bastain laughed until the muscles in his stomach hurt, and he spit on the ground then looked up at Luna, then Dariel.

“You think so. And where is this rocket that is just sitting waiting on you to arrive and fly it?”

“Montana territories,” said Luna.

Bastain didn’t know what was more humorous to him. The notion of a rocket out there ready to take off, or where it was supposedly located.

“Do you know how far away that is from here?”

“Yes,” Dariel replied as he stepped closer. “And we think we have transport suitable to get us there. We’ll have access to all the food, medical supplies, and whatever else gets left behind, so we just need to find a pilot who can fly it. You’re a pilot, right?”

“I’m a pilot…who got kicked out for my little issue and bad temperament.”

“By the looks of you, you’ve been without for a couple of days. The last round up got your dealer, I presume.”

“It did.”

“Then a few more days and a few IVs we can have you pumped out clean,” said Luna.

“What if I don’t want to be clean?”

“You’d rather lay here suffering withdrawals until someone comes along and bashes your head in?”

“Maybe.”

“Fucking asshole,” Luna uttered, then turned to Dariel. “I told you he was worthless. I say we load up the training programs and study up on the way and fly it ourselves. We can’t fuck it worse than this asshole.”

Bastian laughed at the audacity of Luna’s suggestion, but he had no intention of traveling back to the north. It took him six years to escape Great Falls and get to Florida.

“Come on, let’s go back,” said Luna putting on her face shield.

Bastain looked up at Dariel who stared at him with a frown.

“We’re going to head to Eglin before the launch to get transport and head out as soon as Aeolus lifts off. If you change your mind, come to C-23-20. When Aeolus ignites its rockets, we intend to be on our way.”

“Well, you folks have a safe journey.”

Bastain watched Dariel slip the face shield back on and turned to follow Luna back to the base. As the two people grew smaller and smaller, eventually disappearing completely in the pine trees three hundred meters away, he thought about what they had proposed, the shear insanity of a cross country trip to find some missile silo with a rocket in it. Their chance of success was zero. Not a chance they would make it. He glanced over at Aeolus ready to launch and how he had lost his chance to pilot an earlier one. He climbed to his feet, staggering a bit with his withdrawal from the drugs. Straightening to his full height of five foot eight, he looked up into the sky feeling small and useless. Then he looked at the Aeolus again.

“Fuck,” he uttered then started walking back to the base.

Eglin Air Force Base

Fort Walton Beach, Florida

Niko and Cordula pulled the plastic box from the back of the truck and carried it into the warehouse. It was the fourth truck load of weapons they had unloaded that day, and their arms were sore from the lifting. They knew the clock was ticking, just a few hours to go and the last evacuation rocket would lift off to their north. The last people to have a chance in what was hopefully a better place, while the those left behind, the two of them included, would be left to their own devices. Lieutenant Diaz had been making plans for them, getting weapons, food, and gear stockpiled for them to make a go for it on the base that would be decommissioned as soon as the Aeolus launched.

Niko came out first to see another truck arrive with more boxes to unload. Cordula came out and stood next to him.

“The Lieutenant is really stocking up as much as he can,” said Cordula.

“Yeah, but how long will it really last?” said Niko. He looked at the truck load of MREs knowing there would be no more shipments.

“We can always shoot squirrels or raccoons.”

“I’m scared we’ll start shooting each other way before we need to hunt for food.”

“What does Owain think?”

Owain was an Airman First Class and a couple years older, twenty-two, a technician for the fighters now parked off to the side of the runway left to rust and corrode until just junk. He was also Niko’s lover, had been since Niko first showed up on the base fresh from boot camp, one of the last groups to go through it. They had been trained not for an overseas war but for defensive operations in the country, soldiers to protect the evacuation operations. The attack on the Gran Arca had made the countries aware their greatest threat was internal. 

“He thinks we should go north.”

“North?”

“Yeah, the Montana Territories.”

“Isn’t that where his grandparents immigrated from?”

“Yes. He thinks it will be better there.”

“What do you think?”

“Fuck if I know. Every option seems like a bad one.”

 

Owain stood on the tarmac watching the Forest return to base. It was one of four dirigibles operating at the base. It had reached the limits of its flight time and returned to be put back in the hanger. The Gaven and Helios were still patrolling around the launch facility while the Aeolus was still on the pad. He wondered if it would be possible to take one and head north after the launch. He knew the basics on how to fly them and with their solar powered engines, there would be no need to land until they reached the upper territories.

It was all a fantasy. Just a daydream. The ships were being decommissioned and he knew the crews would be stealing parts from them once back in the hanger to trade on the black market. It was crazy, for the dirigibles were worth more operational than in pieces. What could they get for an engine or some other component from it? A week’s worth of food? A gun with no ammunition?

Glancing over toward the large metal building with faded paint, he pictured what was inside. The tow vehicles, a few tanks, and more importantly to him, twenty or so ICVs. They were light, fast, and all-wheel drive troop transporters that would be perfect for traveling north. And four were kept hooked to the chargers. He feared the coastal region would turn to chaos when people just to the north grew desperate and rushed south for whatever supplies could be found in the cities and towns.

At the large vertical lift door, he saw Niko and Cordula unloading supplies from another truck knowing it was, in all likelihood, a futile gesture. A way of just delaying the inevitable. Watching Niko carrying a box inside, he suddenly longed for him, wanted to feel him, to know he was real. When nothing seemed real, he reached for the one thing that pushed the fear and sense of futility away. He reached for Niko to remind himself he was human.

“Fuck it,” Owain uttered as he started walking toward the warehouse.

As he walked across the scorching hot asphalt, sweat trickling down his face and torso, he remembered the first time he met Niko. It was off base at the Hammerhead, a dive bar that had been rebuilt on the coastline so many times nothing matched or aligned, and no one cared. All the patrons cared about was cheap strong drinks to forget what a shitty day they had had, or the shitty job they had to endure, or for the airmen from the base, a worry they were guarding something dead, no longer viable. Everything deemed to have value, something worthy of a flag sticker and a boarding pass for one of the launches, was going up. What was left behind would be true wildlife. Nothing that had existed in nature would ever compare to the ruthlessness of what was to come.

Cordula climbed into the truck parked at the doors and drove off leaving Niko standing in the door watching him approach. There seemed to be an acknowledgement of why he was approaching. There was the smile with slightly crooked teeth, a hand held up to shield the eyes from the glaring sun, then a step back into the shadows of the interior while tugging down the zipper of the coveralls. White smooth flesh came into view. Owain knew he would soon press his dark skin against it. Niko was Japanese American, whose grandparents immigrated before the country became part of China. Niko knew his ancestry, a history of who he was. It wasn’t so simple for him. He knew his maternal grandfather was dark skinned, mixed heritage of black and Latino. His paternal great-grandparents had been from Nigeria, and his grandfather, their youngest son, had married a French woman before immigrating to the states. And before that were rumors of more mixing, and it made Owain feel as multi-cultural as a person could be. It left him with a golden skin tone, skin like honey Niko would joke, as if he knew what honey looked like.

Stepping from sunlight to shadow, he was momentarily blind, then he saw Niko standing just a few feet away, coveralls sliding off the shoulders leaving him in only white boxers. Owain came close, hand reaching out to hold the long neck. He pulled Niko to him until their lips touched. He moved his other hand to the boxers feeling the cock within stir, awakening to reveal Niko’s desire and lust.

Owain pushed Niko backwards guiding him around a stack of boxes, out of sight of anyone who happened to walk past the open door. Niko smiled.

“What if we get caught?” said Niko.

“They can watch,” Owain joked as he pushed the boxers down until they fell on top of the coveralls. He stepped on them and pushed Niko to step back, lifting each foot free. Naked, hardening, Niko was suddenly guiding Owain back to a cot used for naps supposedly on patrol. Owain followed as Niko unzipped his coveralls, and once at the foot of the cot, let them fall down his body until puddled around his ankles. He didn’t wait for Niko to do it, instead he pushed his boxers down freeing his hardening cock.

Niko lay back and held his legs up for Owain to take them. With hands behind the knees, Owain held each with a tight grip and pushed forward then down. Thighs pressed to chest, he had Niko folded in half, ass up and spread. He rubbed his hardening cock up and down the ass, then slapped it against one cheek then the other. He grew rock hard.

“Come on Owain; stick me,” said Niko.

Owain put his cock against the tight opening. He pressed against it aroused by the imagery of past fucks, how that tight hole just spread wide to take his cock. How Niko would plead and beg him to push it all the way inside him and fuck.

“Niko…fuck,” Owain uttered as he pushed until he saw the head of his cock breach the tightness. He felt it, how it squeezed the head of his cock. Niko held the edge of the cot in a death grip, knuckles impossibly white. Pushing, slowly, sinking centimeter after centimeter into Niko, Owain eased his cock into him until over half had been pushed through the tightness. He pushed down on the legs and began to fuck.

Niko cried out then begged Owain to fuck, to fuck harder. Owain moaned and grunted and uttered obscenities as he increased his pace while pushing deeper and deeper. Hips banged into upturned ass and the cot scooted across the floor.

Owain fucked until sweat poured down his face and torso. He fucked until his muscles burned and his cock moved easily through Niko’s stretched opening. He was so wound up, so aroused and desperate, it wasn’t long, and he felt it. The need for release. Every thrust pushed him closer. Every utterance and grunt and moan drove him closer to the edge.

“Fuck…Owain,” Niko cried out, so loud it echoed in the warehouse.

Owain shoved into Niko’s depths and shuddered with release.

Owain lay on his back feeling the rocking motion of the cot as Niko rode his cock. The long lean body moved up and down, at times so slow it was painful on his cock, then so fast Niko bounced off his hips. He reached for the half-hard cock flopping with Niko’s movement and stroked it, smearing the drool over the head and down the shaft. Then he stroked the cock as Niko’s ass moved on his own.

Cum hit Owain in the face, then rained down on his chest and stomach. He saw the white cum pooled on his stomach, then smelled it, that unique odor that spoke to their masculine nature. He grabbed Niko’s thighs pushing him down on his cock and came for the second time. 

Harris Launch Facility

North of Eglin AFB

“One hour, fifty minutes until launch. Launch Pad zone to be cleared of all personnel remaining on planet, repeat…,” came the announcement over the loudspeakers as Dariel and Luna climbed into a transport van used to ferry people on base. He had considered using it for their escape, but its range was severely limited, never meant for long journeys.

“Are you sure about this?” asked Dariel.

“Are you?”

Dariel laughed. “No, but not trying seems a hell of a lot worse.”

“So, let’s go.”

Fifteen minutes later, Dariel drove them onto Eglin AFB, getting waved through as usual by security.

“I’m surprised they didn’t stop us. We have no reason to be on base,” said Luna.

“Probably don’t give a shit who drives on base now,” Dariel replied as he headed to the building where he had seen the ICVs parked. He passed a hanger, then a row of small buildings, then came around another hanger where the warehouse he was looking for came into view. He was surprised to see the main door open and no one around. It was too convenient. Someone had to be around. Pulling the van to the shadowed side of the warehouse, he parked.

“I bet someone is inside,” said Luna.

“I agree. Hand me a rifle,” Dariel replied.

Luna reached in back for two laser rifles. She handed one to Dariel, then climbed out of the van with the other. They moved to the corner of the warehouse, looking across the base where they saw everyone visible was busy with some tasks, then headed to the open door.

Inside the warehouse they stood just out of the sunlight coming through the door looking around for anyone who might be inside. They listened for voices, at first hearing nothing. Then Luna held up a hand for quiet.

“Someone is over there,” Luna whispered pointing toward a stack of boxes.

“I hear them now,” Dariel replied, clicking the safety off on his rifle.

They moved quickly to the boxes in a bent down crouch. The voices were clearer, just on the other side of the stack.

“…what are we going to do. You know it will be total chaos soon,” someone whispered.

“We’ll do the best we can,” came another voice.

“But for how long? All these supplies won’t last long Owain, and you know it.”

“What do you suggest? We take an ICV and take off. To where?”

Dariel rushed around one way and Luna the other until they stood either side of the two men laying on a cot, one naked, the other with coveralls and boxers around his ankles. Everyone looked at the other with surprise.

“I’m Owain, and this is Niko.”

“Dariel, and his is Luna.”

“Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at the launch?” asked Niko.

“We’re part of the group getting left behind,” said Luna.

“Join the club, but why are you here sneaking around the base?” said Owain.

“We want two ICVs,” said Dariel.

“What for?” asked Niko.

“We’re going to try to make it up north.”

“What’s up there?” said Owain.

“Take us with you,” Niko exclaimed.

“You don’t even know what’s up there or why we’re trying to go,” said Luna.

“Does it matter? Anything would be better than just sitting here waiting to die.”

“Niko,” said Owain.

“Owain, it’s something,” said Niko, then he turned to Dariel and Luna. “We can be your soldiers, you know, to provide protection. We’re both proficient with weapons and we have everything we would need here in the warehouse.”

“We did discuss finding a couple of soldiers to take with us,” said Dariel looking at Luna.

“You can help us load up what we need and get off base?” said Luna to Niko.

“Yes,” Owain replied.

“Okay, we just increased our party by two,” said Luna.

“By three,” said Cordula stepping around a stack of boxes.

“Who are you?” asked Dariel.

“This is Cordula, and she comes too,” said Niko.

Owain was behind the wheel of an ICV with Luna in the passenger seat and Niko behind them. In the other, Cordula was behind the wheel with Dariel in the passenger seat. Loaded in both were boxes of MREs, medical supplies, clothing, cots, and weapons chosen by Owain. Laser rifles, grenades, and in four long boxes, handheld rockets. Owain led as they eased to the door.

“Looks clear,” said Luna to Owain.

“As clear as it is going to get,” Owain replied, easing out and driving at a normal speed. They hoped no one paid attention. They drove around the hanger, backtracking the way Dariel and Luna had come in. At the security gate, there was only one person standing at the gatehouse.

“It’s Gabriel,” said Owain.

“Is he going to cause trouble?” asked Luna, looking at a soldier older than most of the others. He looked in his early thirties, maybe older for his dark complexion and jet-black hair concealed much about his age.

“He’s career military but has been passed over so often for promotion he is probably just waiting for the shit to hit the fan.”

“Why was he passed over so much?”

“His father was a troublemaker. A real pain in the higher ups’ ass.”

“So, he suffered for it.”

“Yep. You know; he is from Indiana and has been on a lot of bases so he might be able to help with mapping a path north,” said Owain as he pulled up to the gatehouse.

“Owain, where you headed?” asked Gabriel.

“North.”

“North?”

“Why don’t you get in and come with us,” said Luna, leaning forward so Gabriel could see her.

Two minutes later, the two ICVs drove off Eglin AFB and headed north to Harris to get the others. In the front ICV, Gabriel was sitting next to Niko listening to a rundown of their plan.

Elisha was looking at his wrist pad as the countdown got to twenty-two minutes. Benjie and Livvy, another scientist that was deemed expendable, stood next to him. They were in the dining room of 23 sitting at a table nervously waiting.

“When should we head out?” asked Livvy.

“In ten minutes. If we get to the rendezvous point too soon, I’m afraid someone will notice us just standing around with a bunch of boxes we’re not supposed to have.”

They were alone, for everyone was somewhere they could watch the launch. The monitor on the wall showed the Aeolus on the launch pad ready for lift off and along the bottom of the screen the count down.

A door opened in the corridor, sounding like the exit door at the end nearest to the room. Footsteps, coming closer and closer, and the three of them looked at the doorway to see who would appear, ready with their lie on why they were not watching the launch. It’s too depressing to watch.

A shadow then a body came into view.

“Bastian?” said Elisha.

“Hey, you guys still need a pilot?” 

“Ten minutes and counting,” came the announcement over the loudspeakers as Elisha led everyone to the exit that faced toward the woods. They moved across the open ground in a fast walk, then jogged through the woods until they came to the service road where they crouched down next to the boxes they had stashed overnight and waited. Elisha kept checking his watch for the countdown.

Nine minutes.

Seven minutes.

The minutes ticked off quickly. Time seemed to speed up.

One minute, 58 seconds.

“Where are they?” asked Benjie.

Two ICVs rounded the curve below them and silently pulled up. Luna waved then climbed out as they moved out to load up.

“What took you so long?” asked Elisha. “We have to get loaded up and-“

“We’re loaded up ready to go,” said Luna.

“What?”

“We’re loaded up. Food, medical supplies, weapons, you name it, we got it, now get in. Elisha, Dariel is back there,” pointing to the second ICV.

As everyone was getting buckled in the ground began to vibrate, then shake. They could hear the rocket engines fire, a thunderous sound even from where they were sitting. As Owain and Cordula drove away, the Aeolus cleared the treetops. The trail of smoke was thick, billowing out behind the rocket as it climbed faster and faster. It rotated, then curved to the southeast. Everyone but Owain and Cordula watched as Aeolus climbed higher and higher, the last rocket for the United States of America’s evacuation. They watched it with trepidation, with fear of what it would be like now that there was no government, nothing to prevent complete anarchy. When Aeolus disappeared into the upper reaches of the sky, no one said anything, just shifted back into their seats as Owain and Cordula drove them north.

Elisha sat in back, looking out the window as Livvy and Bastian talked about piloting a rocket and what to do during the launch sequence while up front Dariel and Cordula sat in silence. He knew there wasn’t much to talk about. It was Owain and Luna that were plotting their course, having found a GPS they could hack and utilize. He had been anxious when they came into Crestview, the first town they would pass through on their way North. It looked normal, with hotels, restaurants, and businesses catering to travelers using the interstate. But only a fraction of the total was open trying to make a profit. Traffic was a small percentage of what it had been just a few years earlier and Elisha knew it was nowhere near the level of the last century.

Under the interstate and a mile or so further north, they were driving parallel to Main Street. There were a few people out, coming from one surviving business or another. Elisha looked down the side streets, and saw stripped-down cars, burning debris, and on one street a fight among so many people he couldn’t begin to guess the number.

“We need to avoid these towns,” said Dariel.

Cordula picked up the comm from the console. “Owain, do you hear me?”

“Yes; what’s up?”

“We were talking back here how it might be best to stay out of these towns.”

“Agree. We didn’t know a way around Crestview without going east, so we took a chance to gauge how things might be from here on out. We’ll avoid them from now on.”

Dariel held a hand out for the comm, and Cordula held it out for him to take.

“Hey, Owain, it’s Dariel. I’m thinking we might want to camp out somewhere fairly soon and restrict ourselves to nighttime traveling. These ICVs stand out and further north it will be even more so. People around here are used to seeing them, but soon we’ll have people who have not and they will be curious about them.”

“We were talking about that up here. Benjie says we’ll be going through a lightly populated area in Alabama and should be able to find a place to camp for a few hours.”

“Good. We don’t need some armed to the teeth citizen getting gung ho.”

The two ICVs continued north, following the main two-lane for a few miles, then turning left and taking less traveled roads until in Alabama where they cut west for a few miles to get over the Yellow River, then they resumed on a course heading north, passing abandoned homes, burned out churches, and metal buildings missing wall and roof panels, a few completely stripped to the steel frame.

Elisha wondered if Owain and Luna really knew where they were driving for it seemed as if they were just zig zagging across southern Alabama, down one narrow broken up road to the next. Eventually they passed I-10, having to navigate around the collapsed bridge for the north bound lanes.

“Does anyone use this road?” asked Livvy.

“Very few. Our CO said the country just abandoned them, when so few people had a car and their military significance was gone,” said Cordula.

“In another few decades you’ll hardly know we were here,” said Bastian.

Elisha watched the battered and shot up signs announcing the locations nearby, noting they by-passed Monroeville, then Camden, continuing to head north until another bridge came into view, one crossing the Alabama River. But Owain didn’t lead them across, instead turned right on an overgrown and broken up asphalt drive. It became obvious the place had been a campground at one time, and Owain led them toward the back of the property before pulling off near some trees at a place on the bank of the river.

“Time to get something to eat and grab a few hours of sleep,” said Dariel as they climbed out.

“I’ll get the solar panels spread out,” said Cordula. “We should keep these things fully charged.”

Gabriel and Bastian sat in folding chairs near the water’s edge watching the swirling surface. It was quiet, too quiet, not even birdsong to disturb it. The others were bunked up, Owain and Niko in one ICV and Luna and Benjie in the other, and Livvy and Cordula each in a tent. While they slept, Gabriel and Bastian agreed to take watch for both were to wound up to sleep.

“Where you from?” asked Gabriel.

“Believe it or not, where we are heading.”

“Seriously?”

“Well, not the exact place we’re going. I grew up in Great Falls, within what was originally the state of Montana.”

“What brought you south? The military?”

“Yep.” I’ve been stationed in so many of the bases in the Mississippi Valley I can’t name them all.”

“Luna said you were supposed to fly one of the evacuation rockets but washed out.”

“That’s right. I was just having a hard time. Still do if I’m honest.”

“Why?”

“Doctor said it was something they could treat, you know like for depression, but the thing of it was the drug was a bitch. Just knocked me on my ass. So…I started taking other drugs to counteract it.”

“And got hooked on them.”

“Yeah, it seems I have an addictive personality. Once started, I just crave the shit.”

“You won’t get the drugs now.”

“Nope, so this is going to be one long detox run for me,” said Bastian, suddenly laughing. “Might be the best thing for me. The fucking world coming to an end and trying to run from it.”

“I really didn’t think it would happen.”

“--?”

“The evacuations. I mean…to just give up and run.”

Bastian laughed, shaking his head. “Man has always done that when the odds are stacked against him.”

“I guess.”

“What about you. Your rank is…”

“Low for a man in his early thirties? Yep. My old man paved the way for a life of pure misery and not even the United States Air Force would spar me.”

“He was in the Air Force too?”

“No, he was in the Army, but the son of bitch rose to a high rank then just…”

“Made everything FUBAR.”

“You’re goddamn right. He had this habit of pissing off all the wrong people. Whenever a promotion came up, I was passed over. I should have quit the Air Force a long time ago, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“And here you are today on a rogue mission to the north to find some secret rocket hidden away in some missile silo.”

“You make it sound insane.”

“It is, oh, it is definitely insane, and the only hope we have remaining.”

Dariel moved slowly, gently, over and in Elisha. His body undulated against Elisha, rubbed sensitive flesh against sensitive flesh. Lips touched lips, the line of jaw, the curvature of the ear, and down the lone neck. He moved seductively, sexually, pumping himself into Elisha’s depths until fingers dug into his flesh and soft utterances pleaded with him not to stop.

Elisha stifled a cry, gasping for breath. He clung to Dariel as cock bore into his depths. Then he rolled Dariel to his back and sat up on the cock. He moved on it, rose until the head nearly slipped free, then down, all the way until seated on the hips. He rocked at the hips, used his legs to move up and down, and he leaned forward lacing his fingers through Dariel’s holding the hands down as he increased his movements, sped up his rise and fall on the cock. His own cock smacked Dariel’s abdomen and with the rock of his hips, pushed over the slick skin. It made him shiver. It made him want to keep it up.

Dariel began to push upwards, and Elisha sensed the need, the urgency behind it. The rhythm of it increased until he felt like he was bouncing on cock. Like the cock was boring deeper into his body. And his own smacked down against Dariel’s abdomen.

“Elisha,” Dariel uttered breathlessly, stifling the urge to cry out loudly, then he was pulling him down on his cock as it ejaculated wad after wad. Then he felt cum rope up his stomach as Elisha came too.

Owain moved to his knees, cock sticking straight out rock hard and dripping. He pulled Niko to his knees, ass up and head still on the thin mattress. He entered him again, pushing in all the way until his hips pressed against the smooth white ass. Then he began to fuck again. To drive into Niko’s depths. He held the too narrow waist, fingers digging into the firm flesh, as he pumped with the hips, working his cock through the loosened opening.

Owain slide a hand up Niko’s back, dark skin sliding over white, until fingers combed through the black hair. He balled his hand into a fist and pulled the head back making Niko cry out.

“Fuck me. Fuck me,” said Niko through clinched teeth as he rocked with their fuck.

Owain fucked. Fucked until gasping for breath and his body felt feverish. He thrust into Niko’s depths, just plunged his thick cock through the tightness and into the body over and over, savoring the feel of it on his cock. How it aroused him to the point of release.

Leaning over, Owain slipped an arm around Niko’s neck and rose back to his knees pulling Niko with him. He held tight and pulled Niko back until his torso curved back, pushing hard cock out for him to grasp. He took Niko in hand, wrapping fingers around the hard cock, and stroked him as he continued to fuck his ass.

Niko was hot against his chest, slick skin moving against his own. He thrust harder, pushing Niko’s hips out, rocking the body against his own. He loved to feel Niko rubbing and rocking against his body, to feel the hot skin against his own. He loved to feel Niko’s cock sliding through his fist as his own cock sank into his ass.

Owain bear hugged Niko to his chest and lifted him off the floor of the ICV as he shoved cock into his depths. He kept jamming his cock into him, pushing against the firm ass, until he was coming. He jerked and shuddered with every ejaculation as he filled the ass. Then he felt Niko flex in his hand, the familiar swelling of the hard cock, then hard flexing with each ejaculation.

They were not alone in their intimacies. Benjie and Luna lay exhausted with tangled limbs. Livvy and Cordula were snuggled together, exhausted by their sexual explorations. And outside, Gabriel and Bastian heard the muffled voices, stifled cries of release, or the soft rocking of one of the ICVs, but they didn’t comment on it, merely smiled knowingly at each other as they stared up at the stars, looking for the ones that were planets reflecting sunlight and not stars at all.

 

Once it was dark, the group packed camp and headed out. They crossed the river and headed northwest, keeping to secondary roads that ran through small communities, places where people turned in early after a long day of manual labor in fields. They crossed into Mississippi circled around Meridian going north then west to bypass Starkville and Columbus. At one point, they could see fires burning in Columbus.

Cordula took the lead since Bastian had traveled through the region before and with their GPS hack, they plotted a course.

“Where can we cross the Mississippi,” asked Cordula, referring to the river.

“There’s a bridge to the west of Oxford,” replied Bastian looking at Dariel’s notepad, its light a glow in the dark interior of the ICV.

“Here it is,” said Dariel, leaning between the front seats and pointing at Helena. “You think it is still passable?”

“I hope so, otherwise we’re crossing in Memphis.”

“And we don’t want to go into Memphis,” said Cordula.

A couple of hours later, they were west of Oxford, making their way over to the road that ran parallel to the river. They passed few vehicles, but overall, the roads were dark with an occasional security light illuminating the yard of a house or barn.

In the second ICV, Niko was driving with Owain in the passenger seat, Luna and Benjie on the next bench seat, and Gabriel in back stretched out asleep.

“Cordula, where are we going to cross the river,” Owain asked over the comm.

“A place called Helena, below Memphis,” Cordula replied. Then she added, “if the bridge is still in place.”

“I hope so. I’d rather not go into Memphis.”

“Same here.”

“You really think the cities will be unsafe to travel through?” asked Niko.

“The roads could be congested or blocked, our sight lines will be limited, and desperate people are capable of anything,” said Owain.

“Turn here,” said Bastian, pointing at the upcoming intersection. “It’s not far to the bridge from here.”

“Everyone keep an eye out and your head down,” said Cordula as she reached for the comm. “Hey guys, the bridge is just ahead. Keep your eyes open.”

“Roger that,” Niko replied.

The road was straight, heading northwest toward the river. They passed the entry to an abandoned casino and hotel, then they saw the old bridge, the steel frame becoming visible in their headlights. It was dark and no traffic was coming toward them.

“I don’t like this,” said Cordula.

As they drew near, they saw why there was no traffic. A section of the bridge was missing.

“Fuck,” Cordula uttered, reaching for the comm. “Hey guys, the bridge is out. Turn around and head back. It looks like we’re crossing in Memphis.”

“We see it. We’re going to back up until clear of the bridge before trying to turn around. Don’t want to get caught sideways on this damn bridge,” said Niko.

Cordula looked in the mirror and saw the other ICV backing up. She shifted to reverse and followed.

The lights of Memphis glowed on the horizon as they drove toward it on the interstate. They had driven east to pick it up instead of driving into the suburbs of Memphis on secondary roads. It was hoped the interstate was not blocked or a bridge was out. They found themselves falling in with some light traffic, a couple of personal cars, a commercial van, and one large, automated hauler. Cordula led them through the interchange that would take them to the river and the bridge to cross over it. The bridge came into view, lit up like a mirage, glowing in the night. They went through another interchange then toward it.

“Keep your eyes open,” said Cordula.

Niko maneuvered up next to Cordula, the two of them going side by side letting the traffic ahead pull away and keeping that behind them out of their way. They were almost halfway across when the vehicles in front stopped. They pulled up close and stopped. Over the cars they could see six men with guns searching everyone. In the inside lane for opposite traffic sat a van with its rear doors open. A man carried a box to it and placed it inside.

“They’re shaking people down for anything of value,” said Cordula.

“What are we going to do?” asked Livvy.

In the other ICV, Niko and Owain watched the six men, two harassing travelers, two standing guard a few meters away, and two going through traveler’s belongings.

“We’re going to have to fight our way out of this,” said Owain in a tone that spoke to his fear.

As they watched, one of them men searching cars went to the rear door of a passenger van and pulled a little girl out. The father jumped out of the driver’s side and was hit in the face with the butt of a rifle by the other man. The one carrying the screaming girl was heading to the van.

“No,” said Niko as he climbed out with a laser rifle.

“Heads up,” Owain yelled in the comm, then climbed out with an older style large caliber rifle.

Niko was aiming at the guy with the girl looking for a clean shot. He didn’t see one of the men standing guard taking aim at him. He didn’t see Owain aiming at the other man who had been searching the vehicles, the one who knocked out the girl’s father. He focused, hearing nothing around him, including the sound of the gun on the other ICV rotate as it was targeting.

Niko focused on the man with the girl, her head bouncing into view as he waited for a clean shot. Then a gun was fired. Loud, thunderously loud, and man holding the gun aimed at Niko was hit. The barrel parted as the round went through it, the main body of the gun exploded, then the man’s head split in two. Owain fired taking out his target and the man with the girl turned, his head suddenly in the clear and Niko fired. As the man fell to his knees the girl slipped free and ran. For a moment the man was upright on his knees, then he toppled over. The other guard ran to the van as Niko and Owain took out the men who stopped the traffic. The gun on the ICV fired again, and the windshield of the van exploded sending blood covered glass flying.

A few seconds, and it was over.

With the girl back with her family, the terrified motorists raced across the bridge with the two ICVs right behind them.

Following I-55, they headed north, moving through the traffic as fast as they dared. While passing an exit, two trucks came racing down the onramp, the one in back with a large caliber gun mounted in the bed with three armed men. The first truck had the windows down and a man was aiming from the rear door window along with two men in the bed of the truck.

“Shit,’ uttered Cordula.

“Their friends don’t look happy to see us,” said Elisha. “Bastian, hand me a rifle.”

“Get me one, too,” said Dariel.

In the second ICV, Owain and Gabriel were getting into the rear of the ICV. Gabriel pulled out a rifle while Owain reached for one of the long boxes.

“We have got to end this quickly before they damage one our ICVs or get someone killed,” said Owain, moving to the back door.

“Niko, tell Cordula to floor it and you keep tight to her,” yelled Gabriel.

The ICV’s drifted to the far left and sped up, passing the other vehicles as the two trucks gave pursuit. They came to a stretch of road with no other traffic and the trucks began to gain on them.

“That’s close enough,” uttered Owain. “Gabriel on three, open the door.”

Owain flipped off the safety to the handheld rocket, enabled its tracking, then got into position. “One…two…three!”

Gabriel kicked open the right door and Owain locked onto the first truck and fired. It took less than two seconds for the rocket to hit the truck and explode. The front flew upward, then crashed down causing the truck to go sideways and it began to roll. The second truck swung out of the smoke and fire and raced toward them. Suddenly a second rocket blasted past them from their right and hit the truck leaving it a slow rolling ball of fire.

Gabriel looked back and saw Cordula had pulled to their right and Elisha was at the open rear door holding an expended rocket launcher. A thumbs up and the rear doors were pulled closed.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” said Owain pulling back from the rear doors as Gabriel secured them.

Somewhere in the Mark Twain National Forest, in an old pasture within the rolling terrain, the two ICVs were parked in the sun, solar panels fully extended to charge the energy modules. Beneath an old oak tree, its thick branches reaching out to the sky and providing much needed shade, tents were arranged in a tight formation.

There had not been much said after the incident on the bridge or the ensuing fight on the interstate, but everyone felt the tension between them, knowing it could just be the first of many situations that might call for them to act.

Gabriel sat alone, Bastian getting some much-needed sleep after being up for over forty-eight hours straight. He sat with a rifle across his lap sipping on his water bottle and nibbling on the dry cookie from his MRE. He had Dariel’s notepad propped up in a chair so he could see the screen which was monitoring a drone they had sent up to watch their surroundings. He heard Niko and Owain talking quietly before settling down, and Luna crying while Benjie tried to console her and in the far tent, the one Livvy and Cordula shared, he heard the desperation and fear and longing. A clinging to someone for comfort. He looked around the site, wondering if they would make it and if so, what they would find. A plane flew overhead, and he watched it cross the cloudy sky wondering if it was a commercial flight or some rogue military flight.

It was a restless night and as soon as the light began to push away the darkness, the ICVs were loaded up and back on the road.

Before they could get out of Missouri, a man tried to run Cordula off the road. She had lowered her window while continuing to drive as the man rammed them in the side with his truck, and fired two rounds into the cab, sending it off the road and into the ditch. In Iowa, where they had planned to drive straight up through the state, they were forced to make a detour, cutting west into Nebraska to avoid a group of men in trucks carrying guns.

Nebraska had been a low rolling terrain of farms with crops and farms long abandoned, and they pushed through the territory until in what had been South Dakota. They set up camp on the Missouri River and waited for another sunrise.

Niko clung to Owain with desperation and fear and longing. He hugged Owain against his chest, knuckles white as he dug his fingers into the firm flesh. He inhaled Owain’s scent, licked the neck, kissed the jaw, then the mouth with tongues dueling.

“Owain,” Niko exclaimed as he moved down the torso, lips touching the dark skin, tongue circling a nipple, then dragged down the stomach until cock brushes against his cheek. He turned to it and slipped his mouth over the head and pushed down until it stretched his jaw wide, and he wasn’t able to take another centimeter. Then he moved up and down on it, lips tight around the thick shaft until Owain began to pump his hips. On hands and knees, his own cock rock hard, Niko held his mouth on the cock and let Owain pump it through his lips. A slow gentle fuck, then one furious for release. The cock swelled thicker, flexed on his tongue, then blasted cum into his throat. With ejaculation after ejaculation, cum soon filled his mouth and despite his best efforts, some dribbled down his chin.

Owain stayed hard and manhandled Niko to his back. Holding Niko’s legs behind the knees, he pushed forward then down, folding him in half. Ass lifted up and spread, he penetrated him in one slow gently push. Every thick centimeter until pressed tight against the ass and fingers were digging into his thighs.

“Fuck me…please,” Niko pleaded.

Owain moved inside Niko, built up a hard fuck, hammering Niko’s insides with every centimeter of his cock. He smacked against the ass with every push inward and he tugged upward until nearly slipping free. He fucked until gasping for breath and his body glistened with sweat in the dim moonlight. He fucked until Niko couldn’t take another plunge into his depths and came without touching himself.

Elisha lay on his stomach, hard cock pinned beneath him as Dariel moved inside him. Slowly, gently, allowing him to feel every centimeter of cock sliding through his tight opening and pushing into his depths. He clutched at the edge of the bench seat, folded flat into a bed. He humped it in rhythm to Dariel’s fuck and moaned and whimpered when hips pressed against his ass.

Dariel kissed his neck, nipped at the skin while fucking him. Hands came over his own, and their fingers intertwined, and their fuck didn’t slow. Instead, Dariel’s pace increased. A steady rhythm that built until hips banged against ass and both were pushed to the edge of release.

“Dariel…don’t stop,” Elisha uttered breathlessly.

And Dariel didn’t slow, just kept moving inside him, thrusting into his depths all the way, every time with hips banging against his ass. Elisha pumped his cock against the firm seat and shuddered with release. His cock ejaculated wad after wad until he was pumping it through the cum.

Dariel cried out, shoved into his depths and shuddered and jerked with release. Elisha came and Dariel slammed against his ass with another ejaculation, over and over, until both were spent.

Dariel rolled to the floor of the ICV sitting next to the bench seat. He stroked Elisha’s back then leaned over and kissed him. Elisha rolled to his back, skin glistening with sweat. They stared at each other for a long time savoring their familiar knowledge of the other.

“How are we going to find that one missile silo?”

It was the question on everyone’s mind. The one that haunted their thoughts since leaving Florida. They had so little to go on. West of Minot. Was it the town or the AFB? Then there was the reference to Berthold, then Blaisdell, and G12.

“Cordula thinks she knows the general area for she found a map of all the old missile silos,” said Dariel.

“But there was no G12.”

“I know. We think it might be a silo built by that family or they simply renamed one of the G silos.”

“I looked on a map and found Berthold, but not Blaisdell.”

“Cordula found it. It’s just an abandoned community now.”

“Benjie thinks the silo had to be built by the family for the missile silos are too narrow.”

“Luna said the same.”

“It might help us in our search. Find a silo that is larger than the others.”

“I just hope it isn’t hidden from sight. But I’m afraid it’ll have to be concealed in some manner, or…”  Dariel didn’t finish, didn’t need to for everyone knew if the silo was visible and anyone knew about it, there would be nothing to find.

“Owain said we’ll pull out about noon.”

“We need to arrive during daylight hours, and we think the area should be so abandoned as not to be problem.”

“I hope so.”

 

The sun was past its highest point in the sky as Owain led the group around the south and west side of Minot wanting to stay away from the small city. The terrain was low rolling hills and wide expansive skies, and it made them feel exposed, vulnerable to watching eyes. Owain increased his speed, where he could see far in the distance.

In the second ICV, Elisha drove with Cordula in the passenger seat going over satellite images, old maps, and the GPS map working out where they should go. She picked up the comm.

“Owain.”

“Go ahead.”

“I think we’re going to have to go through Berthold, but it looks really small, and the road doesn’t go through the heart of the town.”

“Okay, but keep your eyes peeled.”

“You know it.”

“Do you think anyone would pay attention to us driving through? The military has always had a presence here,” said Elisha.

“Maybe not, but right now, I’m not going to assume that’ll be the case.”

After driving for a while, Owain slowed and Elisha followed suit, decreasing his speed to stay behind him as they came into the town limits of Berthold.  They eased through the town with the railroad tracks to their right. They passed the grain elevator, following the road as it turned to run due west.

Less than a quarter of a mile, they came to a commercial building on the right and in the parking lot there were a group of guys with off-road 4-wheelers, each one plugged up being charged. They had guns and flew flags of the territorial extremists who had gotten the states removed from the union creating the Montana Territories.

“Shit,” Elisha uttered.

“Let’s hope they just got plugged in and can’t take off for a while,” said Cordula. She reached down for the comm. “Owain, turn left on 9.”

“Turning left,” Owain replied.

“Go south until we get to 23 and turn right. We’ll come around you on 23 and lead.”

“Do you have an idea where to go?”

“Yes, but it is a wild ass guess.”

A few minutes later, Owain turned right on 23 and Elisha followed, swinging out and passing before the four-lane road narrowed back to two lanes.

“Okay, where to?” said Elisha.

“About a mile you’ll come to an intersection. The south side looks paved, but the north side is just a gravel road. Take it. There are three sites in the woods near this Shell Creek.”

“If there was a private rocket built it would be isolated,” said Dariel from the back seat.

“But the rocket itself, how would he have gotten that built?” asked Bastian.

“Over in Seattle, there were two companies building them for private launches of satellites and for NASA flights until 2111 or so. I imagine he got one of those companies to build the components then shipped them out here for assembly.”

“Turn here,” said Cordula as they came to a gravel road on their left. Elisha kept the ICV in the middle of it trying to avoid the roughest surfaces as they passed one, then another site that looked like old missile silos.

As they passed the abandoned field and entered an area undisturbed except for the road, Elisha slowed as he navigated one curve then another until they were pulling up to the site Cordula had flagged.

“This isn’t it,” said Cordula, scanning the old missile site.

“Okay, which one is next?” said Elisha.

“I’ve flagged eight more just to our north on the other side of the river but getting to them won’t be a straight shot.” Cordula picked up the comm. “Owain, I think we split up.”

“I don’t like it but agree. We could be out here for weeks, hunting that damn thing.”

“I think it has to be one of these sites here along the river or this tributary along here. See how the sites run along here,” said Cordula pointing to the screen. Cordula stood at the rear of their ICV, rear doors open with Owain and Dariel sitting on the floor of it. The others stood close by listening to them picking sites to check out and how to divide them up.

“The roads look like a grid pattern but one broken and fragmented. To get to this site, you have to drive all the way over here, cut over and back down,” said Dariel.

“It’ll take some time to check these sites,” said Owain.

“I know,” said Cordula. “Let’s go back to 23, go over to this road, head north up to this road and split up here. We’ll take the sites down through this area, and you guys go over to this side of the river and down through here.”

“What if it isn’t one of these?” asked Dariel.

“Then we move over to this sector to these five sites along here.”

“We have less than two hours of daylight left so let’s get these sites checked out,” said Owain.

Elisha drove down a narrow grown up road, or what he thought had been a road. The site they were heading to would be their third one so far and he no longer felt excited but anxious, worried they were on a wild goose chase. He looked across the open terrain, the low rolling land that seemed to go forever.

At the end of the road, they circled around the flat area, then parked next to the low concrete structure centered in the clearing. Elisha and Cordula got out and did a survey of the structure and a quick pass with a drone over the area. Elisha stood by the structure, one far too narrow for the rocket they were in search of and looked up at Cordula.

“How big do you think the silo is we’re looking for?”

“Thirty meters, at least, maybe larger,” replied Cordula.

“Let’s go,” said Elisha turning to head back to the ICV. He froze, then looked over a Cordula to see if she saw it too. A dust plume rising on the road they had just traveled.

“Get in the truck,” Cordula uttered in a low serious voice.

They ran to the truck, Elisha behind the wheel turning on the gun’s tracking system as Cordula got Dariel to hand her a laser rifle.

“You think they mean trouble?” asked Livvy.

“Out here in the middle of nowhere? Nothing but trouble,” said Cordula. She turned to Elisha, getting him to face her. “If they are armed, you lock in on the one at the far left and set the gun to do a sweep to the right.”

“Okay,” said Elisha.

4-wheelers came into view, and they suddenly split up, three heading across the rough terrain to the left, two to the right, and the rest coming straight up the lane.

“Watch them and lock in the closest group first, then set locks on the other two groups,” said Cordula.

“What are you going to do?”

“Shoot the ones that come in on foot that are harder for you to take out.” Cordula picked up the comm. “Owain, where are you?”

“We are…just to your east, not far at all. Why?”

“We’re about to be in a firefight.”

“On our way,” said Owain and the comm went dead.

“Fuck, they have guns mounted on one of the 4-wheelers,” said Elisha looking at the group circling to their left.

“Each group has one,” said Cordula looking ahead, then to her right.

“Fuck.”

“Elisha, are you locked in on them?”

“Yes.”

“Start shooting.”

The gun rotated to the left as someone climbed into the back of the last 4-wheeler of the group to use the large caliber gun. Bullets cut through the first 4-wheeler, then the next two. One rolled to a stop and the other two flipped on their sides, all three smoking and silent. A bullet shattered their windshield from the group in front of them, then another cut through the rear door windows, sending glass flying inside the ICV. Their gun rotated to the group in the road and riddled them with bullets as it swept left to right. Another shot from their right and the gun on top stopped shooting.

“Fuck, they took it out,” yelled Cordula as she raised up and fired at two men approaching them from the front group, dropping both. A bullet tore through the rear of the ICV just above the floor embedding into some gear. Then anther ricochets off the top.

“Jesus, we’re sitting ducks,” said Cordula.

Elisha engaged the drive and blindly spun the ICV around and headed to the south as a bullet shattered the rear glass. Then they heard rapid gunfire and an explosion. Cordula eased up and looked out seeing the last two 4-wheelers burning and a look to the east she saw the other ICV bouncing over the rough terrain heading their way.

“Elisha, stop, stop,” said Cordula, and she sat up looking back at Dariel, Bastian, and Livvy on the floor. “You guys okay?”

“Yes,” said Bastian.

“No, no, no, I’m bleeding,” exclaimed Dariel.

Parked near the bank of the Van Hook Arm of the Missouri River, Elisha and Luna were working on the shot up ICV while the others set up camp and got a fire burning to push back the chill that would come with nightfall. Cordula, Bastian, Gabriel, and Dariel were huddled up pouring over maps plotting the next day’s search. Dariel’s left arm was bandaged from glass cuts when their windows were shot out.

They had seen emergency vehicles going east as they had driven west to get into the old wildlife management area, wondering if there were any police agency around to come looking for them. It made them anxious, desperate to find the silo in question.

Elisha climbed down from the top of the ICV shaking his head. “I can’t fix it without any replacement parts.” He had been trying to get the turret mounted gun to work, but it was locked in place and refused to release the gun.

“Maybe we won’t need it anymore,” said Luna as she checked the electrical systems.

“I hope so, but if we don’t find that silo soon, I’m afraid we will wish we had it.”

For two days, they searched the area. No longer willing to split up, it took time to work around the region, taking one back country road after the next. It was nearly dark, time to find a place to set up camp for the night, but Cordula grabbed the comm.

“Niko.”

“Go ahead.”

“Just to our east, this road Tee’s into another. Let’s go down there and head north. Somewhere in there is G1. I’m wondering if they reworked it.”

“What’s special about it?”

“Nothing, and if they were going to hide a new silo, it’d be a perfect place to do it. The old map shows it abandoned years ago. It was probably outdated by the time the last silos were built.”

Cordula followed Niko as they headed east, then north. In less than a mile the main traffic followed a turn to the right, but Cordula radioed Niko to keep going straight. The gravel road was grown up, washed out in places requiring them to use all the drive motors on the front and two rear axles. A couple of miles and they came to a dirt road that was in better shape than the one they were on.

“Turn here,” Cordula radioed Niko.

“What do you think?” said Niko.

“I think this road was maintained until recently and the one accessing it left to crumble to conceal what was going on.”

The road curved around a natural pond then headed due east across open land that had once been fields. Trees were scattered over the land except for the tallest, oldest trees for they grew in straight lines along old fence lines. The road turned north and went into a stand of stunted trees, mostly evergreen. The road circled around them and ended in a large clearing.

There was nothing. No outbuildings, no abandoned vehicles or equipment, just a packed down gravel area with some grass growing up in it.

“Get the drone with ground penetrating radar up,” said Cordula.

Elisha jumped out and went to the back of the ICV. He pulled out the drone and its controller. As the others climbed out, stretching, while watching Elisha, he sent the drone aloft. He flew it in a simple linear pattern, up along one side then back down in a parallel run. On the far side, the controller beeped.

“I got something. two, two and a half meters down,” said Elisha holding the drone directly over the rectangular object in the ground.

“Okay, guys, we dig,” said Cordula.

It was dark, chemical and energy cell lanterns illuminating the pit. They stood around its perimeter with Elisha and Niko standing in the bottom, shovels tossed to one side as they stared down at a metal access hatch. There was no lock and Niko easily tilted the top back revealing a ladder that descended into darkness.

“You think this is it?” said Bastian.

“I don’t know. Where’s the top of the silo if it is,” said Cordula.

“It may be somewhere outside this particular area,” said Dariel. He saw the questioning looks. “This may lead to a tunnel that goes to a remote site, away from this cleared area.”

“They had to build it and that requires trucks,” said Owain.

“Not if they used dirigibles to fly the components in,” said Gabriel. “We used them for dropping gear in remote areas. Remember our operation in Columbia.”

“Only one way we’re going to find out,” said Benjie as he picked up two lanterns, handing one to Dariel. “Come on, let’s go see what is hidden away down there.”

“Owain, Niko, and I will keep watch,” said Cordula.

“I guess we’re setting up camp here,” said Gabriel. “Come on, Bastian, Livvy, help me get some tents set up.”

“Elisha, help me get some tables set up so we can eat something without having to sit in the ICVs or on the ground,” said Luna.

Benjie dropped down to a concrete floor at the bottom of the ladder. It had been nearly seven meters down. He stepped back to let Dariel climb down. They shined their lanterns around the small room, one less than four meters square consisting of bare concrete floor, walls, and ceiling, with an opening in the opposite wall. Two meters wide, it was just a corridor with a sloping floor descending down deeper into the ground.

“Come on, let’s see where this goes,” said Benjie.

The corridor descended for about a hundred meters, then turned and descended for another thirty meters coming out on a wider corridor with a floor that was flat.

“I guess we’ve got to the main level,” said Dariel.

“We have got to be getting close.”

Benjie began to walk down the corridor when the lights came on, one section at a time extending down in front of them for over a thousand meters. He looked back to see Dariel standing by the wall at a control panel grinning at his discovery.

“It looks like the power is still on,” said Dariel.

“Leave your lantern here and we’ll take mine in case the lights go out.”

At the far end there were doors to small offices, sleeping quarters with bunk beds, and storage rooms, then a pair of double doors at the end of the corridor.

“This has to be it,” said Dariel as Benjie pushed through the doors.

They came into a short corridor that opened to a large space that faded into darkness. To their right an elevator and to their left a stair, and on the wall by the double doors a control panel. Dariel swiped left to right, and lights started coming on. First around the perimeter of the central space, and they immediately knew it was a rocket in its silo. The lights came on in the main central space and illuminated the white rocket. It shined brightly in the harsh lights, massive, nothing visible to Dariel and Benjie but a section of the fuselage.

“Jesus,” Benjie uttered as they moved to the railing and looked up.

At the top, a command module appeared attached to the side of the central fuselage. In front of them, they realized it was crew quarters, with three rows of windows in each of two sections visible, and like the command module, they appeared attached to the central fuselage. Looking down, over eighty meters to the bottom, the rest of the rocket came into view.

“Three stage rocket and it looks ready to go,” said Dariel.

“Let’s get everyone inside, secure the hatch, and start a diagnostic analysis and see if we can find the program on how to launch this thing.”

“Agree. The faster we get this done the better. We’ve been lucky so far.”

“Let’s hope our luck holds out.” 

Nighttime in the Montana Territory

Hank drove along highway 2, steering to avoid the worst potholes. He had the windows down and the radio off, just listening to the hum of tires and the rustling wind swirling in the cab. The sun had been down an hour and the sky was brilliant with stars where the clouds broke open. It was a sky that could become clear by morning or turn ugly, a storm of high winds and heavy rains, and he didn’t care which for it didn’t matter one way or the other.

He had called Brion, an old friend going back to their high school days, some twenty-nine years ago, someone he could call for a hunt for wild game when the grocery stores were out of stock, or a small operation for drugs or some tech that still had value. He had seen two ICVs drive through Berthold a few days ago. It bugged him, made him consider all the possible reasons for the military of the United States to be in the territory. He hadn’t seen the military in the area in over two decades. With the last rocket long gone and the last of the government launched into space heading somewhere he didn’t give two shits about, it didn’t make sense unless it was a rogue group.

He knew the rumors from the last few years, how an earthwork project was going on in the area east of New Town, then helicopters and dirigibles were seen going to the site. He had driven down and watched from a distance along with others. But whatever was being constructed was underground, concealed completely from view. There was talk of a bomb shelter, some thinking a nuclear war was still possible. The question of why seemed to preclude such a thing, for why anyone would bother with a dying country. Brion and he had camped out one night, watching trucks pull up to the site off in the distance, unloading boxes and equipment into the underground facility. Brion swore it had to be a rocket for evacuating from earth, but Hank thought that was just a rumor for all the rich fucks had bought their way onto one of the launches by the government of the USA and no one else was worthy or could afford it.

But whatever was down there, maybe some thought it had a bit of value.

It was right there, and Brion and he had not bothered going to investigate. No one did after the rumor spread there had been an accident at the site and it was radioactive. With all the other environmental accidents or mining operations, it made perfect sense that another means of contaminating their land had occurred.

But what if it were a lie. Just a little lie spread through the rumor mill of the community, a means of spreading disinformation far better than through some local news channel or formal public announcement. It gave the rumor cred when it seemed like a secret. A secret not meant for the locals. There had been a lot of those over the years so what was one more.

Turning off Route 2, Hank drove north into Stanley heading to the old central business district on the north side of town. He followed the road as it curved to the west carrying him to Main Street. Another turn heading north, and he was soon in the old business district, mostly boarded up buildings, but there was City Hall, an all-terrain vehicle dealer, café, pawn shop, and the place he was heading, the Ghost Riders Saloon. It was a dive, the building practically falling down, but the drinks were cheap and there was usually a band playing, some old shit from the last century that was depressing, perfect for most patrons during a weekday night.

He parked on the street just past the saloon and walked back hearing the muted music from inside, getting louder as he neared the open double doors. He entered the dark bar, only the area the band played in was illuminated brightly, the rest of the bar dimly lit with deep shadows in all the corners. There were four people at the bar and several occupying the tables scattered around the room. The last person at the bar was Brion, hunched forward nursing a beer, one of the local brews that Hank thought tasted like shit.

He came up behind Brion and without a word sat next to him.

“What can I get you?” asked the bartender.

“You have any whiskey?”

“I got that rot gut shit out of Oregon.”

“I’ll take it. Two shots.”

The bartender poured the drink and slid it across the bar in front of Hank.

“Fifty,” said the bartender.

“Jesus, for this?”

“You want it or not?”

Hank dug out the coins issued by Montana Territories and tossed them on the bar. He took a sip, winced, then took another knowing soon enough the alcohol would hit his system and he wouldn’t care about the taste.

“How’s Maria?” Hank asked without turning.

“She’s living with her brother and his family,” said Brion.

“What?”

“She found out about that waitress down in New Town.”

“Brion, you dumbass.”

“I know.”

They sipped their drinks and didn’t turn when the band said they were going on break.

“You wanted to know about those two ICVs,” said Brion.

“Yep. Have you seen them?”

“Not me, but Aharon down in New Town said they were going around some of the old missile silo sites east of town.”

“Did they go to the site?”

“Not sure,” Brion replied, knowing which site Hank was referring to.

“I think that is the site they are looking for and they don’t want anyone to know they’re looking for it for they haven’t asked around.”

“Why? What could be in it?”

“What could it be?” Hank replied, turning for the first time to look at Brion.

“No, come on, I don’t believe it. You think…no.”

“Why not. It would explain so much. Construction started four years ago-“

“Five years ago.”

“-and after over a year, it went completely underground. What else could it be but a rocket for an evacuation.”

“But who had that kind of money that had not already bought their way on a launch?”

“I don’t know. Some rich fuck out of Seattle, someone whose family had lost ties to the USA after the separation.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“We should go out there and see.”

“But if it is two ICVs, they could be armed to the teeth.”

“Then we get some of the boys together for a little sightseeing expedition.”

Brion sipped his beer, then nodded. “Okay, can’t hurt to look. When do you want to go?”

“Tonight. As soon as possible. You call Aharon and I’ll call Merhel.”

“Alright, let’s do it. Beats sitting here getting drunk.”

“So, let me get this straight,” said Niko. “The rocket is ready to launch. We just need to fill the fuel tanks, load up all the food we have brought, and go.”

“Yes,” Benjie replied. “The fuel was kept in storage tanks at minus 155 Celsius and needs to be piped into the rocket. There are two fuels, the mixing occurring in the combustion chamber-”

“Too much info,” Niko interrupted making the scientist smile.

“The electrical systems are run from a radiation cell, a small one, unlike the large one for the facility, and everything checks out. The launch sequence, the trajectory, even adjustments for the date of the launch, so the system is self-correcting,” said Dariel.

“But there is no food on board, and we can’t risk going for any. We have enough MREs to last us twice as long as we need. We just need to load them onboard,” said Livvy.

“When do we launch?” asked Owain.

Bastian laughed.

“As soon as we get fueled and loaded up. It’s 3:14 AM now and we should be ready to go before sunrise.”

“Shit…we’re really going up?” said Niko.

“Or exploding in the silo,” Bastian joked.

Cordula leaned forward staring at Bastian. “I’d rather blow up than stay down here another fucking day.”

“Me too,” Bastian replied.

“Bastian, get as much sleep as you can while we do final preparations,” said Benjie.

Gabriel’s pad beeped and he swiped the screen to open.

“What is it?” said Benjie.

“Shit. The drone picked up something,” said Gabriel as he looked at the screen. “We have company on the way. Looks like five, no, three vehicles and two…three motorcycles coming this way.”

“Can they get in?” said Livvy.

“Not unless they have a plasma cutter or something like that,” said Gabriel.

“Or some explosives,” said Owain.

“And I bet these fucks have explosives,” said Bastian.

“Maybe they are just snooping around. Let’s get to work and launch before they figure out how to get in,” said Dariel.

Everyone jumped up and headed out of the small conference room except Benjie who grabbed Owain by the arm. “Did you check the blast shafts?”

“Yes. They have bars in each of them. They’ll have to cut their way through.”

“And the silo’s top?”

“They cut through there we’ll shoot them as they climb through. If they have any brains, they’ll try the hatch and/or the blast shafts. I would suggest we collapse the corridor from the access hatch.”

“Won’t that expose it above ground?”

“Maybe.”

“Can we rig it to collapse when breached?”

Owain smiled. “Yes.”

“Do it. Let them work their way into the corridor, then roadblock them again. We just need to buy enough time to launch.”

“What about the blast shafts?”

“We can’t block those, so we have risk it.”

Owain sat at a small table on level 8, the entry level from the hatch, while everyone else worked frantically to get the rocket ready for launch. He was monitoring the men who had showed up. Parked in the clearing around the hatch, there were two old trucks, one off-road 4-wheeler, and three motorcycles, one that looked last century. He watched as the men surveyed the hatch, tried to open it, then started to poke around the site until they found the camouflaged ICVs. They went through each one, then tried to start them as Owain smiled at their frustration. He had Luna disconnect the charge system and erase the system’s programming rendering each one useless. The men split up and began to search the site, going out further and further from the clearing with the hatch.

“Shit.”

“What is it?” asked Elisha, coming by the table with an armload of boxes.

“They’re looking for the silo.”

“I guess we need to hurry.”

 “Aharon, that off-roader of yours is the fastest, run get us a couple of plasma cutters and crowbars,” said Hank.

“We’re going to cut our way in?” asked Mechel. He stood between his sons, Zavier and Pearce. Pearce looked like Mechel, short, barrel chested, with dark hair. Zavier, still a teenager, was skinny with dirty blonde hair and the features inherited from his mother. And he was a head taller than Mechel and Pearce.

“They’re in there and if that is the case, then it must be worth something. Go, so we can get in and take over,” said Hank turning to Brion. “Take Zavier with you and look for the top of the silo. Mechel, you and Pearce look for another way into it. If it is a rocket silo, then there must be an exhaust shaft if it is a large one.”

“Will do,” replied Mechel. He turned to Pearce, tapping him on the bicep. “Come on son, let’s go.”

Hank watched Aharon run across the grassy clearing to the 4-wheeler and take off, cutting across the terrain instead of following the winding road. Then he turned toward the east and headed after Brion and Zavier thinking they were on the right path for the main structure. It had been some time since he had snuck on the property when the construction first started but he was sure it was due east of the hatch. To his right going southeast was Mechel and Pearce, waving a radar detector over the ground.

The natural terrain was slow going, the brush and grass grown up waist high or higher. He pushed through, stomping down some tall plants and circling around brush too tall or thick. He followed the lights Brion and Zavier were carrying using his own to see where he was walking. Zavier yelled out something and the two lights were both shining down on the ground. He sped up, rushed toward them getting hit in the face by limbs, until standing next to Brion. Zavier was moving in an arch, moving out then around and Hank saw it was a circle nearly twenty meters in diameter.

“You found it,” said Hank in a low breathless tone.

“Yeah, we found it,” Brion replied.

“Damn, look how big it is,” said Zavier, yelling from straight across the circle. It was obvious standing next to it for the top was covered with low planting, Hank assumed stunted by a shallow grow bed over whatever was below.

“It’s solid metal about two feet down,” said Brion waving the detector over the ground.

“We can dig out a section of it and cut through,” said Hank.

“We’d be right above them. There is no way to conceal ourselves coming in right over them. I don’t like it. There must be another way in.”

Hank looked to the south at the lights moving slowly across the terrain. He suddenly didn’t hear what Brion was saying as he saw the lights aimed down waving back and forth, and he knew they had found something.

“Hank. Hank?” said Brion.

“Shhhh,” Hank replied, pointing toward Mechel and Pearce. One of them was shining a light toward them and waving it back and forth.

“Over here!” came their muffled cry.

Owain watched the men gathered around one of the exhaust shafts. It was a low wide vertical opening, covered by earth and vegetation on top to conceal it. Five of the men were standing back as one of them cut through the thick bars protecting its opening. He saw one bar after the next drop to the ground with its ends glowing red.

“Hey guys, how much longer,” Owain yelled out.

“The tanks are nearly up to pressure,” Livvy replied.

Dariel came across the bridge from the living quarters about halfway. “Owain pack it up and let’s get out of here.”

“We’re cutting it close,” Owain replied.

“I know. Bastian and Gabriel are in the command module already.”

Owain grabbed up his pad and rushed across the bridge through the hatch into the living quarters section.

Gabriel slid into a chair next to Bastian to help monitor the systems and take over when Bastian had to break away for a minute. After they got into space and the living and command modules extended out and spinning for low level gravity, two of the others would take over to let them get some sleep. Or so he hoped. There was a lot to occur first, the biggest was the launch. Then getting into orbit and making sure they were on the right trajectory for Ganymede, a moon of Jupiter and the destination set into the ship’s system. Once on their way and their acceleration completed to get to speed, they had the process of swinging the command module out and under spin, then the swinging out of the two levels of living modules, the shift of the lower in line with the upper, connecting them into a complete circle around the fuselage and into a spin. It was a lot to ask of some privately built rocket and if any one aspect didn’t work it could be a long trip into deep space, or worse, just small pieces of them raining down into earth’s atmosphere.

Gabriel considered what it meant, to just leave Earth with no plans of coming back. When boarding, he saw someone had painted over the name the previous owners had given the ship, giving it a new one. In bright red letters Aaru shined in the harsh lighting of the silo.

“Get buckled in,” exclaimed Bastian as Gabriel adjusted the chair into the launch position.

“How long before we can launch?”

“About five minutes. I’m running the pre-launch sequence now and the others are buckled in.”

Gabriel opened the screen on his pad, connecting with Owain. He saw the men had gained access to an exhaust shaft. A drone flew into the shaft, and he soon saw the men’s lights moving ahead of him. The drone pulled back, but the last man turned and fired a gun at it. The first two shots missed but on the third his screen went black.

“Dammit.”

“What is it?” asked Bastian.

“They took down the drone Owain was using to monitor them.”

“Where are they?”

“In one of the exhaust shafts, about halfway down.”

“How long did it take them to cut through the bars at the exit point?”

“Less than three minutes.”

“Then we’re cutting it close.”

Hank led the men, his posse as he liked to think of them, down the sloping concrete shaft. It seemed too easy. He wondered if the shaft was it to provide fresh air or was it some kind of exhaust shaft. If the latter, what was in the silo that needed such a wide shaft. He knew it could only be one thing, a rocket. A large rocket. The community tried to figure out who had been behind the construction, and the rumor had been it was private, but nothing of substance had ever been obtained.

“Brion, how long has it been since anyone was seen coming here?”

Brion strolled up next to Hank and matched his pace. “Two years ago, we think, but Pearce swears he saw trucks coming out here last year.”

“So, if it were a rocket, it would be functional?”

“A rocket? You think still think someone was building their own rocket for evacuation.”

“Maybe.”

“I don’t know, Hank. I mean, anyone with that kind of wealth would be on the list.”

“You would think.”

“Maybe that is why they stopped work. They were originally not on the list then somehow bought their way on it and abandoned their work here.”

“Could be.”

“If it is a rocket, someone is here to fly it out.”

“If that is the case, we need to stop them.”

“Why? We can’t fly it.”

“But we could take their pilots and make them take us instead.”

“That’s a bit farfetched and…”

“Yeah, it is. There are more bars up ahead,” said Hank shining his light across them.

“Aharon, you got the cutters?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s get through these as fast as we can.”

 The fourth bar fell to the floor of the shaft, leaving an opening wide enough for the men to get through one at a time. Hank went first, followed by Brion, then the rest with Aharon bringing up the rear. They moved down the shaft as it stopped sloping down, but began to slope upward, steeper than the section they just came down. It slowed them, making them walk carefully.

“Fuck; why is this so steep,” said Zavier.

“I don’t know but do you guys hear that?” asked Mechel.

The sound of air being vented, then a cloud of cold mist descended down the shaft.

“Come on guys, hurry, and have your guns ready,” yelled Hank as he sped up.

Light grew brighter as they climbed upward, then they were at the opening to the base of the silo. Above them four pods with two engines each. They rotated back and forth, then began to release gas.

“Shit! Run!” yelled Brion as he dropped his gun and ran back down the shaft, falling and rolling along the floor. The others followed, tripping and stumbling as the sounds came from the rocket of its imminent launch.

“We’re not going to make it,” said Hank as Xavier and Pearce ran through the opening in the bars.

“We’re a go,” said Bastian over the intercom as he switched on the ignition system for the rockets. The top of the silo rotated open, and the rocket shuddered in it’s supports with the firing of the engines. For a few seconds it was deafening, the roar of the eight engines blasting the base of the silo. The supports exploded loose, and the rocket began to rise.

Gabriel looked at the sky as the edge of the silo fell from view. It seemed so slow their initial rise, but as they climbed higher the acceleration began to pin him into his seat.

“Fuck.”

“It’s going to get worse,” said Bastian as the rocket really accelerated, rotated, then angled toward the southeast, climbing higher and higher.

“Fuck,” said Gabriel again as the sky darkened in front of them.

Cheryll was riding her bicycle. It was a primitive device, with no hovering capabilities like those she seen in images from one of the major cities, not even a motor. Its power came from her, and she stood on the pedals giving it her all, for she was only eight. She rode down the old highway weaving around the potholes and at times pulling to the side to let a vehicle pass. It was early, far too early for her to be out on her own, but her mother came in late from the bar and didn’t wake up until nearly midday.

She imagined running away. Of taking off early one morning and riding to Minneapolis, or Chicago, or maybe all the way to the mountains of Tennessee where she could live in a cave or an abandoned cabin. Each morning, she considered her rides a practice run for the day she actually took off.

She stopped when she heard thunder, thinking a morning storm was on its way, but looking around the sky looked clear as first light pushed away the darkness. Then she saw flames and smoke to the north. Something in the ground was burning. Then she felt the ground trembling beneath her feet and flames shot out in two other places. The flames rose so high it scared her, then she saw the rocket emerge from the ground, rising slowly, but getting faster and faster. It came into full view and rose into the sky, leaving a wide billowing trail of smoke in its wake. She watched in awe as the rocket climbed to the clouds, then rotated and headed toward the rising sun.

She didn’t know her Uncle Aharon and his friends were no more.

 “We’re at full speed; cutting the engines,” said Bastian over the intercom. “Extending the command module in 30.”

Over the next twenty minutes, the command module was extended out and set to a spin to generate a tenth of a g. Then the living modules were extended, the lower sections raised and connected with the upper then put into a spin.

“We’re set for long term travel,” said Bastian.

“How long to Ganymede?” said Gabriel.

“About fourteen months.”

“A long time to be stuck inside this thing.”

“Well, from what I’ve read, the accommodations will not be much better where we’re going.”

 The ship moved through the vastness of space on a trajectory that would take it to Ganymede. It had been out of earth’s orbit for two hours. Elisha and Dariel moved through the corridors, the first just an insulated mylar and carbon fiber woven tube that extended from the living modules down to the central fuselage of the ship. In zero gravity, they floated through the corridor past storerooms and engineering until at the corridor connection the command module. They were the first relief shift for Bastian and Gabriel.

“How do we look?” said Dariel as soon as he came through the hatch.

“Good. Everything is functioning as it should and we’re on the course laid out,” said Bastian.

“Well, you guys get some sleep, and we’ll take over.”

After Elisha climbed into the small compartment, Gabriel followed by Bastian went into the crew quarters in the adjacent compartment. Before closing the hatch, Gabriel looked back.

“Yell if you need us,” said Gabriel in a joking tone.

Dariel sat in the chair for main piloting and Elisha in the co-pilot chair and began to review gauges and run diagnostics.

Gabriel stood by Bastian as he unlatched the door to his compartment. Each one was a self-contained space in case of a hull breach. Bastian started in then stopped causing Gabriel to bump into him. They looked at each other, a tension that had been simmering between them growing more intense. Bastian blinked first, then smiled.

“You…would you like to come in…with me?” Bastian stuttered.

Did he? Gabriel thought of it, intimacy with a man. Intimacy with Bastian who he had come to know over the last few days. A man he wanted to understand, a man who had fought his inner demons and seemed to be on the winning side for once. Could he do it? He knew the answer.

“Sure.”

The door was latched, and the two men stood in the narrow room.

“The bed takes up most of the room when lowered and it’s not very large,” said Bastian.

“I know,” said Gabriel stepping back against the door.

Bastian stepped up against Gabriel, back to chest, so he could lower the bed. And to feel Gabriel against his body. The warmth of another and he found himself fumbling with the latch to lock the bed in place.

Bastian stepped forward as far as he could, his legs against the bed and he began to disrobe, unzipping the coveralls. When he began to slip it from his shoulders, he found it moving on its own and he looked back to see Gabriel slipping the garment over his shoulders and down each arm, then down his torso until around his ankles. He stepped out of them crawling on the bed. He rolled to his back and watched Gabriel remove his coveralls, then his white boxers, standing naked at the foot of the bed. A lean man’s body, one with a scar on the stomach and the right bicep, and a cock that hung heavy over its sac.

Gabriel tugged on his cock, and Bastian smiled, raised his ass, and slipped his own boxers off. He saw there was no need for being bashful or teasing with foreplay. They both knew what they wanted, and he spread his legs for Gabriel to crawl up between them.

A tentative kiss, then a light press of Gabriel’s body on top of his own, and Bastian pushed upward with his hips pressing hardening cock against hardening cock. He felt the hands move over his body. They were initially tentative but as their desires increased, the hands moved with greater confidence. Touching, rubbing, stroking, and Bastian moaned.

It seemed so natural, familiar, how Gabriel held his ankles, Bastian relaxed, let himself be spread wide. Nothing was hidden from Gabriel’s eyes. His cock hovered over his stomach rock hard while Gabriel’s cock raked across his ass then pushed against his tight opening. He threw his head back and shivered with the penetration. He focused on the push through his opening, how cock bore into his depths then Gabriel began to fuck. Slowly, tugging outward then pushing inward, quickly falling into a steady rhythm.

In such low gravity, Bastian felt like he was floating and the room nonexistent. It was just Gabriel, hovering over him while pumping cock inside him. His own cock drooled on his abdomen while Gabriel’s pace increased until they were moaning and grunting and uttering obscenities.

Bastian came first, stroking his cock as Gabriel hammered his insides. Cum rained down on his chest in a slow arch through the air. Then Gabriel shoved into his depths and shuddered with release.

Ganymede Colony Base 3

Governor Araujo stood in a corridor at a window looking into Med-Bay 4 as crews worked frantically to repair the roof. A cargo ship had crashed through it the day before, compromising the room. There had been twenty fatalities and Governor Araujo knew it could have been much worse if the doors had not sealed properly for the adjacent rooms. But it was little consolation when they had lost three doctors and three times as many nurses. He watched feeling helpless and frustrated. There had been so many setbacks, so many unforeseen situations, but they had maneuvered their way through each one feeling heroic with their accomplishments. But this was different. To lose so many and it their medical teams, made the accident feel like a defeat.

“They should have the roof repaired and the space back under atmosphere by tomorrow morning,” said Lagan Aitken, Secretary of Engineering.

“How long before we’re operational?” said Dr. Markos Webber.

“Three more days, maybe four.”

“Fuck.”

“Yes; fuck,” said Governor Araujo. “I’m thinking of contacting Base 2 or 5 to see if we can get at least one doctor.”

“Base 5 has a virus going around, so they’ll not let anyone go,” said Dr. Webber.

“We knew we’re cutting it close, barely filling some positions.”

“We just didn’t have the capacity to bring more,” said Aitken.

“Why didn’t we build one or two more ships?”

“The threat level for terrorist attacks was getting too high. We were lucky we didn’t get hit like the EU.”

“I know, but…” Governor Araujo let the unfinished sentence hang between them for they all knew the situation. They were lucky to evacuate those that they did.

“Governor! Governor!” exclaimed an aid running down the corridor. He rushed up to the Governor holding out a pad. “Sir, your c-pad. You left it in your office and Base 1 is trying to reach you.”

“I wonder what is wrong now,” said Governor Araujo. He swiped the screen and saw a message from Governor Kohler of Base 1, and he opened it and started reading.

“Please tell us it’s not something else wrong,” said Aitken.

Govern Araujo began to smile then chuckled with relief. “Damn. Something is finally going our way.”

“What do you mean?” said Dr. Webber.

“There is a private ship soon to arrive from Earth.”

“Really? I’m surprised it was able to take off,” said Aitken.

“They have a doctor on board?” said Dr. Webber.

“Yes, and one who worked in laboratories studying viruses.”

“Who else is on board?” said Aitken.

“Two more scientists, two tech specialists and four soldiers, and a pilot.”

“Just ten people?”

“It’s a small ship.”

“When will it arrive?” said Dr. Webber.

“It’s due to arrive in about eight hours.”

Bastian sat in the pilot chair with Elisha in the co-pilot chair. They had the ship flipped and under burn to drop their speed. The command and living modules were back in place along the fuselage with everyone buckled in.

“We’re down to orbital speed; cutting engines,” said Bastian.

“Entering Ganymede’s orbit in fifteen,” said Elisha. “Wish I could see it.”

“No one thought to put cameras pointing back.”

The Aaru entered low orbit around Ganymede, flying over Base 1, 4, and 7.

“Adjusting course,” said Bastian.

“Landing trajectory is programmed in,” said Elisha.

“On the next orbit we can land.”

“How bad is it?”

Bastian knew what Elisha referred to. He and Gabriel had been in contact with Ganymede for over a day and knew there had been an accident at Base 3.

“One of the Med-Bays had been compromised when a ship crashed into it. They lost three doctors and twelve nurses.”

“No wonder they were glad to hear from us.”

“They were glad to hear you were on board and also our tech guys.”

After a moment of silence, Elisha exhaled loudly, one of relief. “Damn, we made it.”

“I won’t believe it until the Aaru is on the ground.”

The ship circled the large moon, adjusting course to align with Base 3. It came back into the light of the sun and began firing thrusters. As Base 3 came into view, the Aaru slowed and dropped out of orbit. It arced toward the surface, thrusters slowing and adjusting course. Once vertical to the ground, the ship descended straight down.

“One thousand meters…eight hundred, seven…”

Bastian counted down their elevation until only one hundred meters above the surface when he lowered the landing gear.

“Okay guys, we’re about to touch down,” said Elisha over the intercom, the excitement evident in his voice.

“Thirty, twenty, ten, and we’ve touched down,” said Bastian.

“Base 3, this is the Aaru. We have landed,” said Elisha into his comm.

“Welcome to Ganymede. Crews are on their way to retrieve you.”

“We made it,” said Bastian drawing Elisha’s attention. They stared at each other, then sat back. For a few seconds they were silent, then Elisha began to laugh, followed by Bastian.