>>6308758

Then he leans forward, a smile tugging at his mouth. "I'm just an old soul who prefers simple things from simpler times. Alternatively, I'm among those who walked away from Omelas."

The reference slides past you, strange and foreign, but settles neatly in the back of your mind for later. You file it away for later even as your eyes drift down to the pistol holstered at his side. "Simpler times," you echo, then add with a twitch that might be a smirk. "But you've got a laser pistol."

He pauses mid-stretch, then grins shamelessly and states matter-of-factly: “Lasers are cool.”

That draws a reflexive huff of amusement out of you. He takes it as a sign of victory.

>>Are there any other safe zones with survivors that people have contact with? Which areas are unsafe?

Harper’s expression twists. “Truth is, I don’t know for certain. With long-range comms gone and shortwave choked by the storm, all we get are fragments. Stories we can’t even begin to confirm, let alone corroborate.

“But I can tell you right now that most major cities are either dens of anarchy or zones of martial law. Take Richmond for example. Last we heard, the 111th’s parent command, the 116th Infantry Brigade, was fighting bitterly to reclaim the city from gangs of cyberpsychos and nihilistic rioters. That was weeks ago…maybe they won, maybe the gangs did. But we don’t know for certain.”

He sighs, leaning back against the crash seats. “But don’t think that the wilderness or countryside is safe either. At that point, you’re gambling with your life that you aren’t gonna run into bandits or worse.”

…how depressing. “Is there…nowhere at all that’d be safe?”

The survivalist hums. “I did hear through the grapevine that some Guard units managed to set up strongholds in the Appalachian Mountains. Couldn’t verify those with total accuracy, but it seemed credible enough for at least five hundred civies to try and make the journey to Staunton and Wytheville.”

He gives you a pointed look. “Maybe one of those cities happens to be near Yakwawiak.”

Definitely food for thought. But consulting the map aboard the pod, you feel your heart sink at the sheer size of the Appalachians. Even if the lab is somewhere along the divide between Virginia and West Virginia, that’s still hundreds of miles worth of area to cover.

“One more thing – nuclear reactors,” he adds. “Assuming the containment shields held when the Cataclysm hit, those places might still be outputting power, even if the rest of the country isn’t getting any. And power means leverage – heat, lights, working electricity. Folks would kill and die for that kind of control.”

Your eyes narrow sharply. “Closest one?”

(cont.)