“Samuels.”
“Lieutenant Samuels,” Ted interjects, “what did you mean by ‘Armageddon?’”
“End of the world. Apocalypse. Call it what you will.”
“What’s causing it?”
“Caused, you mean.”
“You mean it’s over?”
“Sort of. They stopped the cause but the effects… those’ll be around for who-knows-how-long.”
“What caused it?” Jackie asks, an eyebrow raised.
“That… is a long story. The Admiral will be able to fill you in more on the details, and he’d like to get some details from you on the global outlook of things.”
“Global outlook?” Commander Palmer asks.
“We’ve got almost zero eyes anywhere in the world. Communications only started coming back up a few hours ago, but even those are rudimentary at best. Knowing what things look like across the world, even as late as a few days ago, would be exceedingly helpful strategically.”
“Of course.” Commander Palmer glances at Ted and Jackie. “Anything we can do to help.”
Lieutenant Samuels stops in front of the door to the illuminated building and motions at the astronauts. “Excellent. If you’ll step inside, the Admiral would like to speak with you.” The three move toward the door, but Lieutenant Samuels puts out his hand to shake each of theirs in turn before they can go inside. “And welcome back. All of you.”
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Two billion.
It took three years to get an accurate count of the total number of people who died across the world. By the time the exact figures were decided upon by the various countries working to find, identify and count the dead, the survivors had lost their interest in the exact number. So two billion—slightly under the actual total—was what went into the record books.
Most of the deaths in the industrialized portions of the world ca
me from lack of access to food, water and medical supplies. Loss of power killed a large swath of the sick and elderly, and transportation interruptions had a ripple effect that was felt as far out as remote villages that had only a tertiary reliance upon modern infrastructure.
Recovery was slow, and because Damocles had affected all countries to some extent, a sense of togetherness and comradery developed even between fierce rivals. Initial outrage toward the United States for developing Damocles eventually waned thanks to the fact that Damocles had merely disabled—not destroyed—many key infrastructure points across the globe. That a rogue agent was responsible for leaking Damocles to the world and causing its accidental activation added to the voices calling for reason over revenge. (A substantial amount of relief aid from the United States didn’t hurt, either.)
For the Waters, life never fully returned to how it had been before the event. Though Tina and Jason recovered from their injuries, they and Sarah elected to stay at the Waters’ homestead, converting one of the barns on the property into a home where they stayed, not feeling comfortable with being very far from Dianne and the kids.
Oles and Dr. Evans were whisked away as soon as the federal government got back on its feet, and while Rick still heard from them in occasional letters and emails, their work on helping to create a defense against another such disaster in the future was clouded in secrecy. Though Rick was never able to find Jane’s family, a letter from Dr. Evans some six months later included a photograph of a small gravestone that had been placed on the grounds of the old naval observatory, marking where Jane had been laid to rest.
Over the months following the event, Dianne saw the effects of it on her children. Night terrors were frequent for Jacob and Josie and it took years for them to be able to sleep through the night without waking up screaming or drenched in sweat. Mark’s resilience throughout the ordeal continued to shine, and his parents leaned on him constantly as they worked to pick up the pieces of their lives after the event and continue soldiering on.
The small farm on the Waters’ property was quickly expanded once a portion of the woods around their home was cleared, and though they had to stay vigilant against people seeking to steal from them, they were able to continue to provide food for themselves quite handily. As Blacksburg, like the rest of the world, began to rebuild, Rick eventually took a part-time job serving as a consultant to the state government. He was called upon multiple times by the federal government both to help assist Dr. Evans and Oles and to receive a number of awards, but he always declined, saying that he was never again going to travel more than a few hours walking distance from his family.
Each night, as the sun set and the light shone between the trees off to the side of the property, Rick would sit out on the back porch and watch the orange glow turn to black. His thoughts always came back to those he had met—and lost—along his journey, and how unbelievably blessed he had been to make it through alive when so many others did not. After the sun went down, Dianne would join him on the porch and they would sit together in silence, holding hands as they watched the stars come out against the rich inky blackness, each of them grateful that they still had their family and each other.