Avalon: The Retreat (48 page)

Bright and early the next morning, the 45 men gathered in formation and heard the plan from Lieutenant Everett.

“As most of you already know,” he said in an even and calm voice. “We are heading toward Seattle, Washington and with a little luck, we should be there in a few hours. We will maintain a convoy formation and follow the highway until just before it splits to go into Seattle from the north, and then we’ll continue west to Fort Lewis. We have no idea what we will come across on the way, but we are all professional Soldiers and Marines and will act accordingly. Keep your eyes open and be prepared for anything and everything!”

Buckling his Kevlar helmet into place, he placed his hand on the door handle, “Okay troops,” his voice had a confidence of reverberation, “mount up!”

With that said, the Soldiers engaged the starters on their trucks and other vehicles, and the engines sprang to life.

As they traveled west, there was only one incident of significance. After traveling about an hour and a half on the highway heading west, a group of civilians tried to overpower the convoy, and that was a big mistake. Lieutenant Donnelly tried to warn them to unblock the highway, but the people shot at the Soldiers and they responded in kind.

Several civilians were killed, and, as others dragged their companions away, the Lieutenant called for a cease-fire. One of the convoy medics did what he could do for the wounded but it was a hopeless situation for most of them. They needed immediate surgery to survive their wounds and that wasn’t going to happen here and now.

The convoy continued after a few moments and just before arriving at Greenwater, where many of the Camp’s dependents lived, they saw numerous dead people lying alongside the road. Most had been dead for some time and birds and insects were already feeding on the carcasses. The convoy stopped several times along the way to look for survivors.

They were all dead.

None of them had anything of value in their possession. They had simply been shot and left there to rot. The Soldiers continued on and were stunned into silence as they passed so many houses that were burned to the ground. A few still smoldering and smoking, but the fires appeared to be old… probably older than just a few days. Cars were abandoned and many of the stores had been looted. Windows were broken out and glass was scattered all over the sidewalks and streets. Items of clothing and other miscellaneous things were lying about, obviously dropped as the looters scurried away.

There were no living beings anywhere, except for the Soldiers of the convoy. It took a little while before Lieutenant Everett gave the order to leave Greenwater. When they arrived at the junction where the highway split to go north to Seattle and west to Enumclaw, the convoy continued west. There was a brief conversation about exploring Seattle, but that would have to be at another time, not right now. They continued toward Fort Lewis, where they could determine what they would do next.

The further west they traveled, the more corpses they encountered. Most vehicles were abandoned, but occasionally a driver could be seen dead in the driver’s seat. Lieutenant Donnelly had a Geiger counter and tested for radiation poisoning at random. At this point, there was no evidence of radiation in the area. These people had simply been murdered. They all knew that these were indiscriminate acts of violence.

Eric tried to focus on the task at hand, which was moving safely to Fort Lewis. But his mind kept wandering to his brother Chris, who was Assistant Weapons Officer onboard the USS CALIFORNIA, an OHIO Class Nuclear Submarine. “Run silent, run deep” was their motto, and they were there for strategic deterrence. It kept the bad guys from shooting because the retaliation would simply be too high a price.

But deterrence was out the window now, and if they had fired their missiles, it would have made them an instant target and hard to miss. Their chance of survival, at that moment, went down drastically.

Still, he wondered about Chris.

L. Michael Rusin is a masterful storyteller who incorporates real survivalist skills to captivate his readers. He uses the pseudonym L. Michael Rusin to honor his Father, who died in 1953, while serving as a Chief in the U.S. Navy.

Currently living in Costa Rica, Central America, with his wife, Nancy, Rusin enjoys writing, archery, flying, drawing, and target shooting. A native Californian, he joined the U.S. Navy after college and spent eight years serving his country before starting his own general contracting business.

He has been a practicing Survivalist since 1966, and he has conducted numerous survival training sessions as a retreat planner for more than thirty years. Rusin remains active in preparing for those unspeakable tragedies that we may all face in the not-too-distant future.

A licensed Commercial Airplane Pilot, Instrument and Multi-Engine Rated, he flew as a Bush Pilot in Alaska, a Freight Transport Pilot in Africa and Central America, and a Crop Duster Pilot in California, Arizona, Texas and Florida, before going into business for himself. He is also an accomplished scuba diver and parachutist who made his first parachute jump in 1961.

Rusin is currently working to complete his next bookin the Avalon series,
Avalon: Beyond the Retreat
. The story follows Mike and the rest of his survivalist group as they fight to rebuild a world torn apart and gain control of a humanity lost in desperation, suffering, and hopelessness. Their nemesis, Bone Breaker, returns with a vengeance and puts the group once more in jeopardy. Can they triumph over this latest battle against an almost un-human tribe out to win at all costs?

This book is dedicated to my two best friends, my loving wife Nancy and my friend Jasper Smith.

Nancy always read this work “one more time,” not because she wanted to, but because I begged sufficiently. She encouraged me to continue on when I was tired and wanted to quit. I was fortunate enough to marry my best friend, and I have now spent almost forty years with her. I can truly say I have never loved anyone more or as deeply as I love her.

Jasper was a father, a veteran, a husband, and a man with a great sense of humor; but most of all, he was my friend and a true Patriot. I hope he is somewhere at this very moment passing around his boundless goodness to others as he did while he still lived among us. I miss my friend and always will. I miss him because he was the kind of a friend that, if we’re lucky, we find once in our lifetimes.

My enduring thanks to both of them for their friendship and for the good luck that I have had for knowing both of them. I only wish everyone could have such good friends as Nancy and Jasper.

L. Michael Rusin

The author would like to acknowledge the efforts of the team of men and women who worked so hard to make changes to
Avalon: The Retreat,
in order to make this final result, presented for your reading pleasure.

My grateful thanks goes out to the following: Kamel Press, and the team there, because it’s where the magic happens! Kermit Jones, Jr., for having the vision to see Avalon’s potential and the dedication to see it through. Joseph Gueary, for jumping on board and driving a project (and Kermit) with nothing more than an invitation. Deanie Deitterick, a phenomenal Senior Editor who has much wisdom to offer, and who (thankfully) sticks to her guns. Rhonda Jones, for ensuring clarity and follow-through. Meredith Sump, a magician of digital media and graphics. Kari Jones, for having a degree of patience, support, and belief few can comprehend. Jennifer Latigue, for her great attention to detail.

My gratitude to you all cannot be measured. Thank you very much.

L. Michael Rusin

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