United States of Apocalypse

248 Pages·2016·2.38 MB·English

by  Mark Tufo

UNITED STATES OF APOCALYPSE
MARK TUFO
ARMAND ROSAMILIA
DevilDog Press
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
About Mark
About Armand
Also by Mark Tufo
Also By Armand Rosamilia
Also From DevilDog Press
Thank You
Copyright © 2016 by Mark Tufo/Armand Rosamilia All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including
information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of
brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
I wish you would still, always be here. Rest in peace dad.
-Mark
Dedicated to Shelly, always my inspiration
-Armand
Prologue
This is how the end started. Some will argue it began when Nixon annihilated
the gold standard. Others will say that it was the growing trade deficit, or when
we flooded the Chinese with the dollar; an easy scapegoat was our dependence
on foreign oil. Some may even point to the destruction of the Twin Towers.
Certainly, all of those events widened the cracks that began to appear as far back
as the Race Riots of the sixties. But the United States could have perhaps limped
on another fifty years, maybe even another century, if not for a conflagration of
organized events that sought her demise. What those conspirators did not expect
was that her fall would set into motion a much larger chain of events, which
would ultimately bring the entire world to its knees.
The enemy that finally severed the artery had been completely unexpected,
as was the international response. America had, for the last seventy years,
actively developed a love—hate relationship with much of the world. She was
generous to a fault, she was quick to fight, and just as quick to defend her allies.
She was brutally effective at both. The world looked to America for her riches,
her fashion, her artists and inventors. Some looked with a jealous eye, others
with disdain for her excesses. When the more public attacks first began, much of
the world watched in fascinated horror, happy that in some way the mighty had
fallen.
Such is human nature; to watch those topple that are different, whether
ideologically, politically, or religiously. It was an “I told you so,” of cultures.
Old enemies publicly condemned the events while secretly welcoming them,
even moving them along, in some cases. At last, the world’s public opinion
turned, thanks to sympathetic media and independent broadcasters. Governments
of the world were finally swayed and forced to lend active aid and assistance.
But their response was too slow, too costly, too philosophical. It was met
with swift and atrocious retribution from the aggressors, and the aid diminished.
In the end, the United States of America died much like she had lived. Alone in a
world that was not quite ready to adopt the directions she sought. This is the
story of a group of survivors during those initial dark days as they struggled to
adjust to the new order of things. The war for global domination had been
reduced to a struggle just to find enough food for the day, a safe place to stay, a
warm place to sleep. While foreign countries fought for a redistribution of
wealth in the trillions, many in the States would die for a bottle of water. The
Federal Government, realizing it could not possibly handle a crisis of the
magnitude presented to it, had completely reduced its scope of operation. Much
like a hypothermia victim, she had pulled back into her shell, to the point of
letting her extremities wither and die while she worked valiantly to keep the
heart pumping. In the end? Well, it was all for nothing….
Chapter One
Day 1 - Wyoming - July 2nd - 4:32 a.m.
Brent woke up, dragged his hand through his thinning hair, stood, popped his
back, and gave his balls an extra-heavy dose of scratching before heading to the
shower.
“Last damn day,” he said as he stuck his hand under the tap, waiting for the
water to turn from streaming icicles to something resembling heat. Brent loved
his job as a park ranger, the vast majority of it stationed in Wyoming, across the
beautiful Yellowstone. It was just that he loved the thought of fishing full time
off the coast of Mexico more. By the time he stepped out, taking all the frigid
water torture he could handle, his wife, MaryBeth, had entered.
“Did you warm it up for me?” she asked after giving him a small kiss.
“Yeah, sure, I think the ice has stopped flowing.”
“Remind me again why we haven’t got that thing fixed?”
“Because by this time next week, we’ll be sunning on a beach in Acapulco,
baby, sipping those fruity umbrella drinks.”
“Right.” She winced as she popped her big toe into the shower to check the
temperature.
Even at fifty-five, MaryBeth had kept her figure, and at that moment, it
became evident just how much Brent appreciated that.
“Put that thing away; you’re going to poke your eye out.” She laughed. “If
you get home at a reasonable time tonight and remember to bring home a good
movie to watch, I just might take care of it.”
“Sounds like a deal.” He gave her another kiss. After drying off, he walked
into the bedroom to dress. His quarters were in the national park. He’d had the
option of receiving a stipend and staying in town, renting a place with adequate
heat and amenities, but the raw beauty of the park had won out. In addition, there
were far fewer people out here than in town. He figured he spent enough time
with people during the day that he should at least have nights off. MaryBeth
would grumble sometimes about their isolation. On those occasions, he would
take her to see a movie or dinner, sometimes both, if they could pull off the
timing.