Yield (104 page)

Stray bullets again hit the side of the truck, chewing past the softened metal.

“
Jacob!
”
Devin yells. Mist from the extinguisher blasts begins to fill the cabin.
“
Jacob!!
”

*  *  *

The decorated general blinks in confusion. He starts to look around before he feels it.

“
Papa
…
”
Soft tears roll down Sierra
’
s face.

The warm pulse of blood flows from Jacob
’
s right side. A steady stream runs down his body and onto the door of the truck. The heat is somehow calming. It quiets his mind. Everything is suddenly so clear.

A hard-fought peace spreads across his steely blue eyes.

Sierra pulls her legs tight to her body, beginning to rock back and forth.

“
It
’
ll be okay, Sierra,
”
he whispers. More than ever before in his life, Jacob is certain of every word. The grandfather smiles lovingly down at her. He wanted so badly to see her grow up, to be there when she changed the world
…

His eyes blur as he applies pressure to the wound. The general looks back out to the ocean and the sub
’
s missile platform. Slowly, the yellow warheads begin to rise. Duty fights back the cloud of serenity inside him. Jacob fumbles for the radio handset, unable for some reason to lift it.

“
Jacob!
”
Devin yells again. The cry falls deafly upon the wounded soldier as if struck down by some silent grace.

*  *  *

A single nuclear missile fires from the sub. It inches upward, beginning to accelerate. The orange glow of ignition shines brightly in the darkness. Exhaust flames flicker above the sub as the missile gains speed.

Several feet above the stealth sub, the missile is suddenly obliterated. Machine gun fire and fast-attack missiles rain down upon it from the converging U.S. and British jets.

Explosions blot out the metal with vindictive flame. They light up the dark waves where death
’
s carriage had just been.

A giant splash of water falls back to the bay through bullets and fire. It hisses, bringing a shaky calm to the waves once more.

The F-22s bank quickly and take off toward the enemy ships. A storm of missiles launches into the sky. Trails of smoke space out evenly from dozens of rockets hurtling through the air. They scream into the distance, the sound like a choir of patriots.

Missiles slam into the foreign ships in rapid succession. Groans of crumpling metal echo out with explosive bursts of light. Massive detonations rip through the Chinese and North Korean warships.

Deafening booms roll up the bay, even as the violence fades behind the military truck.

Devin slams on the brakes, skidding to a stop once they reach the other side of the Astoria Bridge. He looks over at Jacob
’
s slumped body. The handset cord dangles limply from his hand.

“
Give me some g
auze!
”
Devin shouts into the cabin. The fireman wraps a bandage around the general
’
s stomach.
“
I need help up here!!
”

“
General Leder,
”
a gruff voice barks from the radio.
“
Message confirmed. Repeat. Message confirmed. Target eliminated.
”
The communication officer
’
s voice softens with gratitude.
“
God speed, General. Out.
”

Sierra
’
s shoulders shake. Her tiny body racks with confusion and a crippling fear. She watches the color drain from her Papa
’
s face, tears pouring down her own.

The last rays of red and pink dip below the horizon. The world goes dark all around them, bringing with it a mournful silence.

Sierra slides blankly toward the driver
’
s side door, her reddened eyes now dry and exhausted. Delicately, Devin lifts her to the ground. The little girl is running almost before her feet touch the pavement. Her silk dress blooms in the morning
’
s fiery light.

She soon rises up into her mother
’
s loving arms, eager for the comfort that only one can give.
Time
seems to slow around them. Pink cherry blossoms blow through the sapphire skies, floating. Dancing.

Their embrace is filled with a life-changing love,
a love that the world will never again get to steal away
. Sierra and her mother both weep uncontrollably, grateful beyond all words to be able to hold one another again.

Devin walks slowly towards them, his shoulders hunched. He inches forward one cautious step at a time.

Sierra
’
s mother looks up at the truck
’
s bullet-ridden passenger door, then back down to the fireman.

She smiles.

Jacob clutches Devin
’
s neck, leaning heavily on him for support while they walk. His stomach is wrapped in thick bandages. A red military outpatient band encircles his wrist.

Relief rushes out of the woman. She runs to her dad, pulling
her family tight
.

*  *  *

A crimson sun drifts through the cloud bank on the horizon. The sky shifts from red to amber and back again.

Twisting shafts of light sparkle from the tent poles and fences surrounding Seattle
’
s southern refugee camp. The people within move about with mixed
intent
, preferring their new illusion of freedom to the alternate of recent days.

Terra sits in the cafeteria watching the morning news. The repetitious video and familiar faces almost make the chaos seem commonplace. She sighs.

It
’
s the same censored information they watched the night before.

Chris
’
s red, white, and blue letterman jacket bunches up over her small shoulders. Even though it
’
s three sizes too big, she loves how it feels around her. It
’
s more like home than anything else in this strange place.

She looks down at Baby Isabel, bundled up tightly on her lap. The child
’
s curious gaze drifts from the bottle in her mouth up to the teenager
’
s face. The baby
’
s beautiful brown eyes are tinged with a hint of sadness, almost like she knows that the person holding her isn
’
t quite right.

“
I know, honey,
”
Terra whispers.
“
I miss your mom, too.
”

She smooths the thin black curls down on the baby
’
s head and kisses her gently above the eyebrow. Baby Isabel closes her eyes, cooing sweetly at Terra
’
s touch.

*  *  *

Jonathon hobbles through the main gate and skids to a stop. His left arm is cradled inside a blue sling, pinned to the unseen bandages around his abdomen. His attention shoots up to a giant missing persons
’
board. The sea of heart-wrenching pictures and pleas only make him feel more impatient.

He lunges off into the refugee camp, screaming out for his son.

A young man, almost a full head and shoulders above everyone around him, stands at an Air Force recruiting table, finishing his paperwork. His life is soon signed into carbonized paper, hoping in some small way that it can turn the bloody tides.

The recruiter snaps him a trained salute. Chris arches his athletic shoulders back and stands at attention to his new masters. He takes only a few steps away from the table before hearing a familiar voice booming in the crowd.

His usual compulsive precision now gone, Jonathon looks frayed and stubbled as he pushes his way through the crowd
.
He reaches out with his good arm, almost lifting his taller son right off his feet.

Chris looks down, surprised by the ferocity of his dad
’
s embrace. He isn
’
t used to physical affection from his father. The man is usually so reserved, so guarded with his emotions. The teenager slowly puts his arms around him. Chris
’
s face lights up, feeling a kind of unreserved acceptance he hasn
’
t felt in a very long time.

As they release one another, Jonathon takes a step back, staring into Chris
’
s changed eyes. He claps his son
’
s shoulder with pride, smiling at the man now standing before him.

Chris turns and calls out. Shyly, Terra emerges from the crowd of refugees and sinks into his arms.

Jonathon nods, politely introducing himself to the beautiful young woman. He looks down, surprised at the angelic baby in Terra
’
s arms.

Jon gives his son a questioning look.

The basketball star
’
s smile fades
—
like the memories
of loss
still too painful to share.

*  *  *

Devin
’
s pace uncontrollably quickens. He spots his home from the entrance to their cul-de-sac, his legs pushing into an uncertain run. The battle-scarred military truck is parked another mile down the road, vapor steaming out of the cracked radiator and into the sky.

Renewed energy pushes his exhausted body on. Devin adjusts the bag slung over his right shoulder, leaping up the walkway steps.

The house and neighborhood are uncomfortably quiet. The absence of children
’
s laughter fires like an alarm inside him.

Devin reaches into the bag, settling his hand on a pistol grip. The fireman begins to yell out in panic for his family.

Suddenly, the red door bursts open.

His wife and children lunge down the cobblestone steps. Obliterating joy and relief wash over the firefighter at the sight of the faces blurring towards him.

Devin
’
s legs buckle, kneeling to pick up his son. His wife and daughter surround them, wrapping their family in an all-fulfilling warmth.

Tyler lays his head against his hero
’
s chest. The boy cries openly, his small arms locked around Devin
’
s neck.

Katherine
’
s blond hair shimmers in the morning sun. She pushes her lips tenderly into her husband
’
s, her hands pulling him to her. The storm of emotions are overwhelming
—
thousands of impassioned cries flung to the heavens having been answered all at once.

A cool, spring wind blows past
this
reunion of the fortunate. It pushes the half-open door wide. Inside, images of the horrible events dissolve into one another on the television set. The newscast shows large mass graves and rows of mourners weeping over the anonymous dead.

“
Bodies are still being added to the enormous grave sites in New York, Washington, Los Angeles, and Seattle. The human price of this week
’
s events is staggering. Tens of millions are believed to be dead. Millions more are missing. And, just days into the war, there have been huge military losses on all sides.
”

The pictures fade to crowds of people fearfully fleeing their homes. Vehicles create monumental traffic jams all across the U.S.
“
The threat of new bombings has also taken an economic toll in other big cities across the country. That, combined with spreading radioactive clouds, has created a mass exodus,
c
losing businesses nationwide and causing shortages of everything from food to medical supplies. Entire cities have been completely evacuated, bringing the American economy to a standstill.
”

Grainy video of a decimated aerial shot from New York glows on screen. What was once Wall Street, the financial center of the world, is now only burnt paper and death.
“
The monetary effect is estimated to be well into the trillions of dollars.
”