She remained silent until both figures stopped moving. Quiet as a mouse, even as the flames took her life.

  Abi stumbled past the inferno, tears streaming down her cheeks and smoke catching in her throat. The pain in her leg was forgotten. She pushed through it, limping to the door and bursting through it into the fresh air. She fell to her knees on the porch, choking for breath but still moving forward, crawling until she reached the steps and rolled down to the grass.

  Behind her she heard the ceiling give way, crashing down into the hallway she’d escaped just moments ago. She dragged herself to her feet once more, stumbling blindly, her vision blurred by tears, as the building began to collapse behind her.

  She didn’t stop as she passed the mental hospital, nor as she stumbled across the lawn and felt the gravel driveway bite into the bare soles of her feet. She didn’t stop until she reached the road, collapsing at the gate, exhausted and insensible.

  She lay there for some time, on her back, staring up at the blue sky but seeing nothing. She was spent. She didn’t want to think about what came next. She was near naked, injured and in pain, alone and afraid. She let her mind wander as she stared at the empty sky. Maybe I should just stay here, she thought. Maybe I should just give up the fight.

  For a long while she pondered the thought, of simply laying still and letting the world take her away in whichever way it chose. There didn’t seem to be anything left to fight for. No reason to take another step, and no hope of finding safe haven. I’ve gone as far as I can go, she decided.

  It was comforting, she realized, to give up hope. All the pressure drifted away the moment she decided it was over. For the first time since the power went out she felt relaxed. Happy, even. The burden of fighting had been too much, and now, now her final fight was over, she could let go. She could just lay here and drift away…

  The sky really was beautiful, she thought. Pure azure blue, without a cloud in sight. A perfect summer sky, as beautiful as anything in God’s creation. For a long time she stared at it without really seeing, but eventually she noticed.

  It wasn’t quite perfect. In the endless expense of deep blue there was just a tiny speck of black, far above, trailing behind it a long tail of white.

  It was an airplane. The first she’d seen since the power went out.

  The sound reached her now, a dull drone that seemed to increase in volume until it was deafening.

  Surely it couldn’t be that loud, so far away? It was barely a speck in the sky, but it was so loud it sounded like it was right beside her. How could the engine be so loud?

  “Ju-Won, fetch your bag! She’s hurt!”

  Strange.

  That sounded like Pam’s voice.

  ΅

  :::16:::

  JU-WON WOULDN'T LET them move Abi, and this time she was firm. Even Shep didn’t try to overrule her once he saw the look in her eye.

  Abi’s burns were minor, she said. She had a sprained ankle a second degree burns, but most of her injuries seemed to be psychological. As for the chief, one day there’d be nothing left of his gunshot wound but a scar and a bad memory. They’d both heal just fine with rest and care, but Ju-Won knew that the worst thing they could do right now is come up against the chaos of a refugee camp. Overworked doctors, cramped conditions and poor sanitation were the best friends of infection, and a visit to a makeshift field hospital would be a cruel lottery, in which an open heart surgery could go without a hitch and a paper cut could end with a shovel and a headstone.

  It was settled. They’d stay put until Abi and the chief were well enough to move, and while they waited there was lots to do. The perimeter needed to be guarded, just in case any buddies of the men they’d killed came looking for revenge. In a store room at the back of the mental institute were enough supplies to last a year, along with more medical supplies, weapons and ammo than they could hope to carry. It all needed to be collected and moved to the makeshift camp they set up near the entrance gate. Shepherd wanted to stay in the squat little building by the charred wreck of the hospital, but Abi refused to set foot inside.

  There were also three bodies on a ward that needed to be dealt with, men who had been abandoned to their fate, and Abi told them that somewhere beneath the ashes and rubble of the main hospital was a woman who deserved a proper burial, and one man who didn’t.

  Abi didn’t tell her story, and nobody was in a hurry to press her for it. She’d tell them what had happened when she was good and ready, and if that day never came… well, so be it. In the meantime Shep, Pam and Big Joe were happy to dig through the rubble for two days while Ju-Won treated her patients. When they finally found the woman beneath the wreckage Abi limped over the rubble to pray over the body, whispering words nobody could hear.

  Shep dug her a grave at a spot Abi picked out, beneath the honeysuckles on the far side of a small copse where there was a nice view of the softly rolling hills, and no view at all of the hospital. The man they found beneath her body was left to rot. Abi said the birds could pick at what was left, if they could stomach the taste.

  Six days passed before they were finally ready to move, when the chief’s limp began to fade and Ju-Won told Abi the risk of infection had passed. As they waited hundreds of airplanes had passed overhead, large and small, painting contrails across the perfect sky. They were all headed in the same direction, north to Dulles.

  They finally left on a Tuesday at dusk, just as the sun fell over the hills and its golden glow slipped from the highest treetops, and as the hospital shrank in the rear view mirror Shepherd realized he was sad to see it go. Maybe they could have been happy there. Maybe they could have been safe, just a small group with enough supplies to last, and enough land to farm. It seemed as good a place as any, and if it wasn’t for Abi’s eagerness to leave he might have proposed it, but it was clear that, whatever had happened there, it could never be home to her. Shepherd wasn't minded to argue.

  They drove on in silence, all of them wondering what would be waiting to greet them at Dulles. Would they be met with a warm welcome, or a raised weapon? Would the camp be a safe haven, or would it just be a new threat, with a new face? Nobody knew, but it weighed heavy on their minds as the miles passed.

  They stuck to the back roads for the final leg. No need to risk the highway and the cities when the countryside was so empty. They passed through the small towns and villages that hugged the banks of the Potomac: Leeland, Stafford, Midway Island, all of them deserted, or near enough. There were a few people around, scavenging and skulking in the darkness, but they seemed to have no interest in the Bronco, nor the people inside.

  It was only when they reached the outskirts of Dale City, twenty five miles from D.C., that the first signs of… something appeared. It wasn’t civilization, not really, but maybe a more controlled version of the chaos that had gripped the rest of Virginia.

  Someone had been planning here, not just reacting. The roads had been cleared of vehicles, and the abandoned cars had been used to build road blocks to seal off every side street.

  “What do you think, guys?” Shepherd slowed to a crawl as he peered beyond a roadblock at the silent street beyond. No lights. No telltale flashes of movement.

  Pam frowned at the road ahead. “They’ve been busy, whoever they are. This wasn’t just a few guys. This is…” She pointed to a city bus blocking the next side street. “Look at the dents in the side of that thing. It took heavy plant to move that bus.”

  The headlights caught something in the distance up ahead, some kind of low blockade running across the main road. It was difficult to see at this distance, but there looked to be movement behind it. Shepherd pulled the Bronco to a halt. He squinted into the darkness. Definitely movement. There looked to be five or six figures standing behind the barrier.

  “Forward or back?”

  There was silence in the truck.

  “Come on guys, forward or back? I’m not making the decision for us all.”

  Big Joe glanced around at Abi, Ju-Won and the chief, crammed together on the back seat, before replying. “There ain’t nothing good waiting for us back there, Shep. We vote forward.”

  Shepherd nodded. “Pam?”

  Pam shrugged, pulling her shotgun a little closer on her lap. “Well, it seems silly to come all this way only to get spooked by the first terrifying road block manned by a bunch of probably heavily armed men.” She attempted a smile, and very nearly succeeded. “Screw it. Drive on, Shep.”

  Shepherd took a deep breath and began to pull the truck forward. A little part of him had been hoping everyone would want to turn tail and run, but he should have known better. They’d already come too far to turn back. And besides, Joe was right. There was nothing in the rear view but ashes and death.

  The road block was only around a hundred yards away now, close enough to make out some detail. It looked like it was built from around a dozen concrete Jersey barriers, and at one side some kind of elevated platform had been constructed. This wasn’t just a bunch of cars shunted into a line. This was professional.

  “Ummm…” Pam narrowed her eyes and peered out beyond the road block. “Is it too late to change our minds?”

  Shepherd saw what she was seeing. The figures behind the road block were dressed in an assortment of tactical gear, and they all carried what looked to be M4 carbines. As the Bronco reached within fifty yards of the barrier one of the men stepped forward, waving to his right with his rifle. A message was spray-painted on the concrete in white, only visible when the headlights caught it.

  Southbridge full. Move along.

  The men stood and watched as Shepherd steered the Bronco to the left, onto a slip road leading to a wide six lane highway. He kept his hands carefully visible, white knuckling the wheel until he was out of sight of the road block.

  “OK, I guess there’s no room at the inn,” he said, hoping to lighten the mood. It didn’t work.

  The new road was much the same as the old. As far as the eye could see the turnoffs were all blocked, some with cars and some with concrete barriers. At each one a similar message had been painted.

  Fortuna Center Plaza full

  Montclair – NO ROOM

  Prestige Manor. Keep out!

  Shepherd drove on, increasingly concerned at each new unwelcoming barrier. What if it was like this all the way to Dulles? What if they reached what they thought was sanctuary only to find a Dulles – Stay Away sign painted at the entrance?

  For a half hour they drove at a crawl, passing a dozen more signs and countless road blocks, until finally, at the very edge of the reach of the headlights, a white sign came into view by the side of the road. It looked like a bed sheet draped over a frame, and behind it there was another, and another, and another, each of them sprayed with a single word in black paint.

  MANASSAS

  SAFE

  ZONE

  WELCOME

  Up ahead a slip road turned off to the right. Like all the rest they’d passed this one was blocked by cars, but in the middle of them was a narrow gap, just wide enough for a vehicle to squeeze through.

  Shepherd pulled the Bronco onto the slip road, slowing as he saw a soldier step forward from behind the barrier. For a moment he worried they’d be turned away, but the soldier waved them through, gesturing for Shepherd to slow down and for Pam to roll down her window.

  “Evening, folks,” he said, tipping his helmet. “Welcome to Manassas. Where’d you guys come from?” He peered in through the window at the passengers, pausing a moment as he saw Ju-Won.

  “Willow Falls, sir. About a hundred miles south.”

  “You folks all American?” he asked, again lingering on Ju-Won as he looked at them.

  “Yes, sir,” Big Joe said, leaning forward. “I’m the mayor of Willow Falls, Joe Burnham. I can vouch for everybody.”

  That seemed to be enough for the soldier. He nodded, satisfied. “OK, just head on straight about a half mile and you’ll see the city hall on your right. They’ll get you fixed up with some place to stay, and in the morning they’ll find jobs for you. Good to have you with us.” He tipped his helmet again, and Shepherd pulled away.

  The tension eased in the truck. They’d spent a day at the hospital perfecting Ju-Won’s story, creating a whole new background for her. American born. Chinese heritage. Raised in Willow Falls, and a nurse at the local clinic. They’d pictured themselves being interrogated about her, but if that encounter was anything to go by they needn’t have worried.

  The Bronco reached the edge of town now. At a slow crawl the truck crested a hill, and beyond the peak countless sprawling suburbs of McMansions arced away from the road along curving, leafy avenues. A week ago Shepherd would have turned his nose up at these endless rows of cookie cutter houses, their bland lawns perfectly manicured and their pristine picket fences marking every boundary to the inch. He’d always thought they were a blight on the landscape, but now… now there was something beautiful about them. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but…

  “Oh my God,” he whispered.

  “Am I dreaming?” Abi leaned over Joe and stared in wonder out the window.

  The chief rubbed a palm against his stubble and grinned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite so beautiful.”

  Shepherd couldn’t disagree. He pulled the Bronco to a stop, climbed from the truck and just stared at the rows of houses stretching as far as the eye could see. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  It was a sight he'd seen a million times before. A sight that just a week ago he wouldn't have even noticed, but was now so indescribably alien, so beautiful, so perfect, that it had taken him a moment to even register it as real.

  Behind the windows of every house, sprawling out across the endless suburbs of Manassas that seemed to stretch all the way to Washington D.C, countless electric lights were shining.

  They looked like the stars.

  THE END

  A message from the author

  Thank you for reading America Strong. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it, because I’m fairly sure I’m severely allergic to regular employment and would break out in hives if I ever had to return to an office job.

  If you can spare a moment I’d appreciate it if you could leave a review for this novel on Amazon, and if you enjoyed it I’d love it if you could help spread the word through Goodreads, Facebook, word of mouth or extravagant skywriting (should you have access to a light aircraft and a pilot’s license).

  Be the first to hear about new releases:

  authorkeithtaylor.com/mailing-list/

  Contact Keith Taylor directly:

  authorkeithtaylor.com

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