CHAPTER NINE

The state of being connected or interconnected is the definition of connectivity. With one click, you could watch a movie with a million other people. You could read about what was happening halfway around the world by scrolling down a newsfeed page. Meeting face-to-face was possible with a simple swipe. Open an app and you could play a video game with your friends, upload shared photos to the cloud, or browse information on the personal page of complete strangers. People paid their bills online, bought their groceries online, met friends, found jobs, and dated online. People did so much 'connecting' online that many disconnected from the 'real' world. Then the bombs fell and civilization as we knew it fell with them. J-Day had arrived, and it changed everything.

Suddenly, there was no world wide web to answer questions. People could not just turn on the television or flip a switch on their PCs for entertainment when they became bored. People needed each other. People that were total strangers at first connected in ways hardly exercised before J-Day. New families formed and close-knit communities with common goals. Truly connected for the first time, people learned to depend on one another. They learned to trust one another because there was no one else to trust…

-The Years Without Summer: A History by Unknown

2 years, 2 months after J-day:

There were five people in total occupying the space of the clearing that had been chosen for this brief repose. Five people and little in the way of talking Emily noticed. They were divided into two groups, Roy, Marcus, and Emily sat in the dying grass on one side of the small clearing and two strangers, an escort team from Camuy, stood on the other.

Emily looked across the small space to the Camuy representatives while digging out a small bag of trail mix from her jacket pocket. Although the weather was cooling, both groups opted against building a fire. The dry, sun-starved wild-growth of plant life was a tinderbox in the making.

Three weeks before, a small introductory group from a town called Camuy had appeared down their single road. Miranda had been cautious; was in fact still cautious about interactions with the newcomers. The bunker/homestead was rather isolated; nestled as it was into the depression formed by a small range of mountains. It was one of the reasons why, Miranda said, that she had chosen it. The chances of someone just stumbling upon the property was rather unlikely.

The two-man team that first introduced themselves to the residents of Maison Priestly, as they jokingly called the fallout bunker, were a different pair from the two going through their supplies on the other side of the clearing. Taking advantage of the short rest period they were taking Emily munched a handful of fruit and nuts. She looked over to where Roy had started to regale Marcus with the recount of some sporting event he had attended, in between bites of jerky.

"Here," The younger of the two strangers said startling Emily's attention away from her companions. Emily jerked backwards as he shoved a sealed water bottle toward her face; his nails thick with dirt and his lips turned up in what she classified as a smirk. "Drink up, Sweetie, you don't wanna get dehydrated out here."

Emily schooled her face to stoic calm, silently cursing herself for not paying attention to his approach. There was something about the younger of the two strangers – Joop she thought he had been called – that Emily didn't care for. It was nothing that she had observed directly, but Emily's instincts were rarely wrong.

"Thanks," Emily refused, ignoring the pet name totally, "but I have my own." She raised her own water bottle and took a swallow holding his eyes. The iodine pills had run out or expired months ago and the water inside was still warm from having boiled it earlier in the morning, but she was never so happy as to not need anything from this man. Never in her life did Emily think that she would wish that she could wear a hazmat suit. Unfortunately, the suits were only worn when they went on surveys to city centers now. Otherwise, their use was held in reserve. And it was better not to let an unknown entity, even one they wanted as an ally know about them.

Emily understood why Miranda had picked her to lead their group. She had, after all, had years to learn how Miranda thought; she was the perfect stand in for Miranda in any trade negotiations that may take place between the two communities. Marcus, the resident whiz kid, knew down to the last grain of rice, what was on hand in the bunker at any given time and what types of tradable essentials they should most try to acquire from the folks in Camuy. And Roy had volunteered to watch their backs. Miranda's choices made sense. Emily had only an inkling as to why someone like Joop Richard had been sent to guide them back to the encampment.

"How much longer is it to Camuy?" Emily asked, never removing her eyes from the man as he jockeyed up his white and grey fatigues to crouched down in front of her. She kept her expression blank, frowning internally as he preened under her attentions, smoothing thick, dark hair away from calculating gray eyes and seemingly absently licking dry lips.

"Probably, we'll be there within another two or three hours," the second stranger replied before Joop could answer. The man, who had identified himself as Ben Hamilton, approached and patted Joop's shoulder firmly, motioning for the man to head back to their side. Joop barely glanced at Hamilton continuing to stare at Emily a moment longer before obeying the silent command. "If your people are ready to press on, we'll head out," he continued, gesturing in the direction they were traveling.

Emily nodded her agreement and Hamilton returned to his side of the brown clearing. There was something in the way Hamilton moved that radiated danger. It was different from the uneasiness that she felt around Joop. Hamilton had a commanding bearing, and something that said 'warrior' or 'killer' rather than simple politician or CEO. If she had to label the man, she'd say he was some flavor of military.

Emily grabbed her bag, signaling Roy and Marcus that they were about to continue. As they quickly repacked their lunch, Emily kept an eye on the pair's retreat. Stuffing her trail mix into her pocket, she followed their two guides from the grove.

"Come on, Sweetie, it's not that hard," Joop Richards said, reaching out a hand to her.

What was supposed to take two hours had stretched to five as the small group was made to maneuver around a recently collapsed mountain trail. The damaged trail appeared to be impassable and required that the men from Camuy, with their greater knowledge of the area, find another route to the town.

This led to what to what Emily could appropriately describe as a 'chasm' looming before her. He was fucking nuts, she decided. Joop, the idiot, had made it look so easy to use the overhanging tree branches to cross the engulfing span. Like fucking Tarzan, came to her mind. Emily was quite certain that the nutter was trying to get her killed…

"Emily," Hamilton tried to reason, "This is easy." He stood on the other side of the expanse as Marcus hopped down from the tree to his side.

"You're all insane," she muttered shaking her head.

"Yeah, Emily," Marcus called over, "It's not so bad once you get going."

"Just climb up on those overhanging branches and come crawl on over.

"Look, you both, I may be English," Emily snarled at him, "but that doesn't mean I'm Lara fucking Croft!"

"Emily," Roy said in surprise, after a short round of silence at her proclamation, "I didn't know you were a fan!"

"I'm not," she replied scoffing dismissively. "For one thing, I'd never wear something as ridiculously as those shorts. You'd think they would have put her in something more fashionable rather than those eyesores." She shook her head, continuing, "And don't get me started on her apparent ability to defy gravity," she mimed juggling large breasts.

"I think the lady doth protest too much," Roy smirked, ribbing her on.

Emily threw a sharp look in his direction. "No need to misquote Shakespeare at me, Yank."

"Well then, how 'bout a quote from Nigel instead?" Her scream was cut short as he hoisted her up. "'Gird your loins'," he cheerfully said, ignoring her loud protests.

Once up on the limb, Emily froze. She really wasn't cut out for this shit. A blackened tree at the far side of the chasm had fallen halfway over providing this convenient bridge where the two trees' branches had intertwined. Despite seeing the other three men cross it, Emily had horrible visions of barren tree limbs snapping, plunging through, and falling to a gruesome and painful death.

"It won't hold," she whisper-spoke to Roy below her. "I'm too heavy."

"Emily," he gentled, "Three men, all who weigh significantly more than you, have crossed with no problem. Come on now. You can do this."

"I can't."

"Okay. Just a second."

Panic set in for Emily feeling the branches dip beneath her as Roy added his weight to the wooden limbs, "What the fuck are you doing!" Emily felt him close in behind her and unsteadily moved forward, inchingly. "Shit. Shit. Shit," she bit out beneath her breath as she gritted her teeth and moved slowly across the chasm.

"That's it, Emily," Roy said, "Don't look down. Just look ahead."

"Shut the fuck up!" She shouted at him, immediately tearing her eyes back up from the dizzying drop. Why did people think saying 'don't look down' would keep you from looking? That's the first thing anyone did.

Finally, she reached the other side and practically fell into the other men's arms. She didn't even mind Joop's steadying hand on her arm for a moment. Roy hopped down with a smile and Emily nearly smacked it off his face.

"You asshole!" she exclaimed. She walked over to him and got up in his face gesturing vehemently, "If you ever, ever do something like that again, I will fucking put you on the ground!"

Roy held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. Notice taken." He was under no impression that the lithely muscled redhead wouldn't lay him out. He'd seen her knock out cold a guy who had been stalking Miranda years ago right outside of the Elias-Clarke building. The asshole had tried to grab the white-haired editor and had to be taken to the hospital with a broken jaw. That Emily had had to be taken to the hospital with two broken knuckles was just a minor inconvenience as far as she had been concerned. He held his hands up until Emily finally walked away, deciding not to take a swing at him.

"Okay," Emily finally said. "So now fucking long until we get to this God-forsaken town?"

The group entered the boundaries of Camuy just as darkness rose. Emily was honestly surprised that they weren't told that they would have to bunk down and approach the town once the sun rose again. Instead, they were met by a welcoming party about a mile out. Joop was dismissed but Hamilton walked with them to the village hall to meet with Camuy's governing body.

A short introduction and the woman, Kerry Thompson, told them to eat and that the particularities of trade would be worked out tomorrow. Another woman, Jalila Bronsworth, took them to what she described as her house. They ate bowls of soup silently and went to sleep in the two-bed room that she offered.

Emily had missed windows, but right now, not so much. She contemplated pulling the covers over her head but resisted. The light outside was the brightness of an overcast sky and it reminded her of one of the first times that she had gone out to hunt for supplies.

The pale white light of the flashlights stole ahead of the group as Emily opened the door to the descending staircase. The flashlights of those following behind her bobbed and swayed with their steps, making the shadows thrown against the enclosed concrete staircase dance frantically. The heavy tread of the group's booted feet reverberated through the stark corridor until they reached the entrance. The echo did not stop until the heavy blast door clanged and sealed tight behind them. Then came the quiet voices of the others murmuring, relieved that they were finally 'safe'.

Emily waited patiently with the other three members of the group for the automated decontamination process to finish before carefully removing the Self-Contained Breathing Apparatus, which covered the entirety of her face. She placed it on a shelf that opened in the wall before tackling the grey Nuclear Biological and Chemical hazmat suit that she wore. The suit was less protective than the three CBRN suits in storage which included gamma radiation protection, but she had been assured that its full body coverage did offer more protection against the alpha and beta particles found in nuclear fallout than regular clothing.

It was a tight fit with the four of them removing the suits in such a confined space. They could go through the process one at a time, but they never did anymore. They had instead found that it was easiest for two to undress at a time while the other two stood out of the way. The suits went in a sterilization cabinet to undergo a more thorough cleaning.Once the four were down to their underwear, Roy activated the second decontamination cycle. 'Icy cold water rained down on the group from the overhead spray hoses. Emily stood still for a moment before taking hold of the plastic bottle of soap that was being passed around and lathering herself up over and under her clothing. Emily stepped through the airlock into the decontamination chamber remembering acutely the first time Miranda had helped her through the process of getting undressed and washed.

Emily had insisted on going out on a survey with Miranda and Marcus. They'd taken the jeep per Marcus's request, so they traveled further than they normally did and had come upon the family's camp around noon. Marcus and Miranda moved through the area searching for whatever supplies were available, but it was obvious that the marauders had taken anything… everything of value. The others hadn't realized it, but all Emily could think about was the bodies of that family. It was surreal…horrific… how could anyone do that to another human being, she thought. What if it had been them? What if it had been Serena?

Not expecting the sudden blast of cold water from the shower, Emily had panicked and started screaming; startled and not fully aware of where she was and what was happening. Miranda darted over to her, slamming down the water shut off valve as she passed. She grabbed Emily, pulling her into a hug. Emily had pushed her away yelling nonsense that bubbled out of her mouth, but Miranda held on. She spoke to her, shushed her, reassured Emily that she was okay, and that Emily was safe; everyone was safe. Emily had collapsed to the floor and Miranda cushioning her descent, following her down.

When Emily had finally calmed, only a few tears falling from her eyes, Miranda had explained what she had to do and what would happen next. Emily never known Miranda to explain anything before. The sanitation shower was simply tap water to wash off any irradiated fallout dust. Emily was overwhelmed by everything, but she was finally listening. Between the two of them, they got Emily decontaminated and into Serena's arms and bed. Exhausted she had slept like the dead.

Her breakdown was the reason no one went through the decontamination process alone. It became their final check against shock or injury. Waiting with the others for Marcus to open the inner door, Emily shivered from the cold water. Her knickers were plastered uncomfortably on her skin, but it was better than being naked. Shivering from the cold water, she waited with the others for Marcus to wave his palm over the door sensor and let them into the bunker.

The air was warmer on the other side of the door. Emily hurried over to her clothing bin and pulled out the towel and clothing that she had placed there before the excursion. Once dressed she moved further into the bunker towards the living space and Serena.

'Yes,' Emily thought. The quicker they could speak to the Camuy leaders and get out of there, the sooner she could get back to Serena. She glanced over at the other bed and saw that Marcus and Roy were still asleep. She sat up, fully dressed already, and tossed one of her pillows in the direction of the snoring. "Alright blokes," Emily said, sitting at the side of the bed to pull her shoes on. "It's time to get this trading over with. I want to go home."