Whoever had done, it had to have been either a small country or at least one that was underestimated. The internet news source was still up and running so that told them a good part of the country was too.
If it was just the east coast that was hit, then New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Washington DC would have been the focal points of attack.
Connecticut and New Hampshire as well as parts of Massachusetts were entry points for invasion and hence the reason for chemical weapons.
Had it been a bigger country that attacked, then Connecticut would probably have been hit like New York. Instead they used biological weapons there.
They blew their explosive loads on the bigger cities.
Hit the United States, hit them big, cause confusion, chaos and while the United States scurried to pick itself up, hit with an invasion.
Hit them when they’re down.
Arriving at those theories, Ben and Lana realized they were smack dab in the middle of the point of entry. The first wave arrived; it would not be long before the second came.
Not that they believed Massachusetts was any better to be, but the small towns on the western side of the state were heavily forested and may have been spared by the grace of nature’s foliage. If not, if they ran into more of the same, they would just keep going,
Their intermediate goal was to get out of Connecticut into Massachusetts and try to find out what was going on.
But their long term goal was to be safe and stay alive. For that, Ben and Lana believed they only had one option and that was to keep heading north, get out of the country and head into Canada.
They didn’t look at it as abandoning their homeland in a time of need; they looked at it as just wanting to live.
Harry was too old to walk the twenty miles and smart enough to know that whatever the planes that passed overhead were heading east.
There were probably headed into New York and beyond.
He would have taken Mr. Hines’ horses had he been twenty years younger, but there was no way Harry was riding a horse that far. He had ridden when he was younger, but that was years ago. And Tyler didn’t have a clue about riding horses.
So, on a wing and a prayer, they took the car, staying on the road that followed the river north.
The road was a winding one and occasionally heavily tree lined. That afforded them some protection from anything that could spot them from the air.
Did he think they were a hundred percent safe? No. Actually Harry worried he was being foolish to drive, but he did have a destination in mind, a place he felt might be safe, if he could get there.
Just across the border of Connecticut, beyond the newly constructed housing subdivisions and two miles off highway159, was the town of Agabarn. It wasn’t big; it had probably more drinking establishments than business and most of its residents commuted to their work places.
Harry knew of the town because he knew George Miller. He met George by chance. Harry was with Leo having a cigarette while waiting outside to see Ronald Reagan speak. They got to talking and remained friends, especially after they discovered that their love of Ronald Reagan wasn’t the only thing they had in common.
George was a retired mechanic, but hadn’t always been a mechanic. He had been a fisherman who had loved his job. From sun up until sundown he fished for his living.
He did that until his oldest son drown and, consumed with grief, George swore he never wanted to see the ocean again.
He moved inland and put his other talents to work.
George lived in Agabarn and Harry hoped he was still there, that everything was fine and he’d find his buddy.
The drive wasn’t long or far and Harry inwardly wasn’t hopeful of finding anything different up north, especially since they didn’t see a car or person the whole trip.
Then again, it was only twenty miles.
Tyler was quiet.
Still a bit shaken after the plane experience, he didn’t say very much and his hand seemed to find some sort of security in resting on the Leo present.
Harry thought it was ironic, considering what the gift was.
They made the turn off from RT 159 and were a stone’s throw away from Agabarn. The McDonald’s, the landmark for the turn, was dark and empty.
No cars.
No people.
Harry was losing hope.
He swore he felt his heart hit his stomach when he pulled on the main street of the three block town.
Not that Agabarn was a bustling metropolis, but there were always people out and about. Cars were always parked on the street, especially in front of the grocer. But there were no cars and windows were all blackened and boarded up. It was a ghost town.
Harry pulled over. He needed a minute to get his bearings and think of a plan B. In his mind, the invasion force had swept through Agabarn, boarded up the place and moved on.
“I’m sorry,” Tyler said. “Maybe we should go to your friend’s house.”
Harry shook his head.
“Don’t you know where he lives?”
