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malexander04 · 1 year

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Dead Earth Wanderers - Chapter 2 - Bakersfield Civil War

They had been driving for close to two hours by now, in a lone armored car traveling along a crumbling road through a dry, dusty landscape. The trip had been mostly silent, perforated only by the occasional short conversation or crack of radio static as Jack scanned through various dead channels for any warning broadcasts. However, as the pair of travelers approached their current destination, Jack, without taking his eyes off the ruined roadway, addressed Dalla.

“I suppose I should tell you a bit about Bakersfield. Now, I have been to Bakersfield once before, though only for a short time. Most of what I know comes from that trip and things I’ve heard from traders, so I can’t say how much of what I know is accurate, but from what I remember, there are still parts of the city with lethal radiation levels as a result of fallout from old nuclear plants that blew in from the South, settling unevenly throughout the city. Thankfully, that shouldn’t be a problem for us, as several settlements are darted throughout the safe parts of Bakersfield, which have established some kind of federation among themselves. They’ve even created a detailed system of safe transportation routes through the city. Getting through Bakersfield shouldn’t take long.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Yeah. I’ve spent almost my entire life in Prather, apart from the one trip I made with some other people which took us through Bakersfield and as far as Las Vegas. Though that’s the only time I’ve ever been that far.”

“What were you doing on that trip?... Jack?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He said in a solemn tone. The two sat in awkward silence for a little while until Dalla asked another question in an urgent tone.

“You don’t think they’ll do anything to me, will they?”

“Nah, you should be fine. You’ll get some odd looks sure, but the people of Bakersfield are detached enough from the events in Cascadia that they shouldn’t try to hurt you. They also don’t like slavers, so that’s an added plus... hey, look up ahead. I can see Bakersfield now.” Farther down the road the two could see the remnants of Bakersfield, which hadn’t been a very large city before the war, being only a bit smaller than Fresno in terms of population. As they got closer to the ruined city, what looked like a makeshift checkpoint came into view, and Jack began to slow down as they approached. However, as they got closer, he slammed on the brakes and came to a dead stop, grabbing his assault rifle as he did.

“Dalla,” he started, in a serious tone, “get on the machine gun. Something’s wrong here. I’m going to investigate.” Without waiting for a response, Jack got out of the armored car, followed quickly by Dalla who climbed onto the back of the vehicle and did as Jack had instructed. Raising his gun, Jack crept towards the checkpoint while scanning his eyes around the area for any signs of movement. There were two dead bodies in front of the checkpoint, both men, and as Jack got closer, he could see bullet casings scattered on the ground. Looking through the broken window of a small makeshift booth, he saw the blood-soaked corpse of a woman crumpled on the floor. He walked into a small radio room opposite the booth and found the slumped over body of another man.

“Jesus Christ,” Jack thought to himself, “what the hell happened here? There are bullet holes everywhere, and all these guys were shot multiple times, yet they all appear unarmed. The booth and radio room both look like they’ve been gutted of anything useful, but the fact that this checkpoint isn’t just a pile of burnt rubble is uncharacteristic of raiders or slavers. So, who attacked them?” After deliberating for a few moments, Jack turned and cautiously walked back to his armored car, yelling “get back in the car!” as he did.

“Did you find anything?”

“Just more questions than answers. We need to be careful going forward. Something’s going on here, and I don’t think raiders are involved.” After deliberating for a few more moments, Jack slowly drove forward to avoid the bodies on the road before cautiously continuing deeper into Bakersfield. The streets were quiet and desolate for a supposedly still inhabited city, even if the habitation was only partial. The atmosphere in the car was tense as both travelers began to feel a sense of dread. Every so often, as they drove through the streets of the city, they’d pass up very clear signs of battle, some of which were more recent than others. Damaged and sometimes burning armored vehicles, abandoned and destroyed checkpoints, destroyed machine gun nests, and even a few bodies littered the roads.

As they were driving up a relatively clear street towards an intersection, a group of armed men stepped out from either side of the intersection and blocked the road. One of the men held up a megaphone.

“Attention unidentified party. Stop immediately and get out of the vehicle. If you fail to comply, we will shoot.”

“Dalla, slowly get out. Don’t make any sudden movements, but be ready to run or dive back inside in case things go South.” Jack said in a tense voice while keeping his eyes fixed on the armed men.

“Why? Can their bullets really tear through this thing's armor?”

“No, but look at that man over there, on the far left,” he said, pointing towards a man holding a crudely made tube-shaped object, “That’s a hand cannon. They’re not very accurate, but one lucky shot to the front of our car would be enough to kill us both. And at this range, Lady Luck would sure as hell be on his side. Now, no more questions, just do as I say.”

The two travelers stepped out of their armored car in near unison, arms raised, while making sure they were still close enough to their vehicle to take cover. There were a few audible murmurs amongst the group of armed men as they laid eyes on Dalla, her colorful appearance being strange even amongst the desolate, irradiated wastelands that they called home. After a few moments a short, middle-aged black man emerged.

“Identify yourselves!” he barked.

“My name is Jack McSmithson, from the town of Prather near Fresno,” he yelled back at the men, “and my companion here is Dalla, a mutant who fled Cascadia to escape persecution. We’re just travelers who are trying to reach Las Vegas. We mean no harm.” The leader of the group eyed the two suspiciously for several moments.

“Jack, come closer to me. I’m getting tired of shouting,” he yelled. Jack and the leader of the armed men slowly approached each other, walking over a dusty layer of sand, some broken glass, and small chips of brick and concrete that had come off the nearby buildings until they were face to face, the middle-aged man introducing himself as Captain Terrance Alejandro. “Alright Jack, I have a few questions for you. Firstly, have you been to Bakersfield before?”

“Yes, though that was several years ago. I was just passing through then, just like I am now.”

“Ok, secondly, tell me more about your sky-colored friend over there. You said something about fleeing persecution?”

“Yeah. She and the rest of her people come from Cascadia, north of California, after the regular looking people there began to slaughter them all. Admittedly, I didn’t think there was any truth to the stories I’d heard about the blue people until I met her in Fresno. Some mutant hounds had gotten the drop on the group of people she was with, and she was the only survivor. I decided to help her out, though I’m still not sure why I did.”

“Hm, I see. That certainly explains why she’s here, and with you; but what about yourself, you said you were from a place called Prather?”

“Mhm. Prather was a small place to the Northeast of Fresno, with probably only about thirty people living there.”

“Was?”

“I was just about to explain that part. You see, I was a scavenger for Prather, and yesterday when I was sent out to do some scavenging, I returned to find that Prather had been attacked by raiders... I’m the only one left.”

“Well damn, I’m sorry to hear that; but, anyways Jack, I think I believe what you’re telling me about where you and your... friend... are from, but unfortunately standard procedure requires me to have you detained for further questioning. These are dangerous times, after all, and Bakersfield isn’t as safe as it once was.”

“What the hell is going on around here, Captain?”

“Well, you see-” Gunshots rang out from nearby, cutting the Captain off, followed by shouting and a few small explosions. “Ah shit!” he growled, before then ordering three of his men to escort Jack and Dalla to a nearby settlement called New Venola while ordering the rest to take up defensive positions. Three of the armed men approached Jack and Dalla and ordered them to get onto the back of their armored car where its machine gun was. Two of the armed men joined them on the back while the third climbed inside, driving towards New Venola. The intersection where they had been was barely out of eyesight when the sounds of a fierce gun battle erupted from its direction.

Reaching New Venola only took a few minutes; the settlement itself consisted of old, repurposed buildings combined with new ones built from scrap materials, surrounded by a wall of corrugated metal and wooden pallets, with several makeshift watchtowers strung along. They were stopped at a small checkpoint just outside of New Venola for a few moments before being allowed inside. The armed men parked Jack’s armored car by a small two-story building made from several shipping containers and truck trailers, where they then searched Jack and Dalla for any hidden weapons or contraband before leading them inside. One of the armed men, joined by several other people, began unloading Jack and Dalla’s belongings which were taken into a different section of the building.

The two travelers were placed into a small, windowless room to await questioning, being locked inside by the two men who promptly left. Twenty-five minutes silently passed by as the pair of travelers sat, waiting to be questioned. The silence was broken as an explosion occurred just outside, rattling the small building, followed by the sounds of gunshots and more explosions. The sounds of screams and shouting could vaguely be heard through the walls. Jack looked over at Dalla and saw that she was reaching for a seemingly unremarkable hairpin in her hair, which she began to fiddle with. It split into several pieces, after which Dalla went over to the door of the room, which had a double-sided lock, and began fiddling with it.

“Just what are you doing over there?”

“I don’t know what’s going on outside,” Dalla started, not even looking away from her work, “but I don’t think either of us want to stick around to find out.” She reassembled the hairpin, put it back in her hair, then pushed the door open, “Now, let’s get going.”

“Where’d you learn to do that?” Jack asked as he stood up and followed Dalla out the door.

“I... I can tell you later. Let’s just get out of here first.”

The two went to the front door of the building and peaked outside, seeing the chaos that was unfolding; armed men had taken up positions all along the wall, its entrances, and its watch towers, firing at an unseen enemy on the other side. A large hole had been blown into the wall, through which Jack and Dalla could only just vaguely see the movements of more armed men who were attempting to push closer to the small settlement. Through the thin walls of the makeshift building they were in, the pair of travelers could just barely hear the sound of something sailing through the air, followed by a loud explosion as a shell from a hand cannon slammed into the center of New Venola, ripping apart a small wooden building and sending splinters flying out in every direction.

The two went out into the fray and snaked around the building to another door, this one leading to a storage room where their belongings had been taken. Dalla was able to pick its lock, granting the pair access to the room. They immediately began gathering their things, though it took a while to get everything moved back to their armored car, as their belongings were mixed in with various other confiscated pieces of contraband, weapons, and ammunition. After a few minutes, they had managed to gather all of their belongings and were preparing to leave, when Jack realized he was still missing something. Dashing back into the storage room, Jack practically turned the room upside down looking for his last item before finding it under a table; an old photograph.

Jack rushed out of the room and into his armored car, speeding off towards a nearby gate which he proceeded to plow straight through, speeding down the road and past several armed men who appeared to be attacking New Venola. A shot from a hand cannon hit the storage room and detonated, setting off all of the stored ammunition, causing a massive explosion that ripped most of the building apart. As he sped down the road, a man holding a hand cannon suddenly stepped out from a nearby building and aimed at Jack’s armored car, causing him to swerve and slam into a nearby building, where his car became stuck. Before he could regain his senses, a man with an assault rifle rushed over, opened Jack’s door, and tore him out of the armored car, slamming him on the ground and putting their foot on his chest. They aimed their gun right at his head and prepared to fire, but stopped just short as Dalla yelled at the man to stop, her appearance catching the man off guard and causing him to freeze. An Asian woman of higher rank rushed over to where they were and motioned for the man to move away from Jack, before looking down at Jack himself.

“Tell me boy,” the woman said in a Texan accent, “what’s your name? You look familiar to me.”

“Jack McSmithson, from Prather,” he replied, trying to regain his breath after having the wind knocked out of him when he was thrown to the ground, “I came through Bakersfield a few years ago with three other guys. We were involved in an incident with a group of slavers disguised as regular merchants.”

“Ah yeah, I remember you now. What’re you doing back here?”

“It’s a long story, but me and my companion there in my car are trying to get to Las Vegas.”

“Well Jack, you picked one hell of a time to come to Bakersfield. We’re in the middle of a civil war right now. Now that I know who ya are, I’ll let you continue on your way, but first,” she pulled out a piece of paper and wrote something on it before helping Jack up and giving it to him, “here’s a note from me. Continue straight down this road and you’ll eventually reach a settlement under our control. Once there you can get access to maps that’ll help you pass safely through the city while avoiding the combat zones. If anybody tries to stop you, show ‘em this note, and if they're not working for the enemy, they should leave you alone.” With that, the woman ordered some of her men to help pull Jack’s armored car out from the part of the building it was stuck in. Jack climbed inside and continued his way.

They reached the next settlement, and after showing the note to some checkpoint guards, they were allowed inside. From there, Jack acquired some hand-drawn maps from a small government office which detailed the exact routes he needed to drive along to safely traverse through Bakersfield; while at that office, he asked what caused the civil war, and had learned that it had been caused by disputed election results and electoral fraud. It took about an hour of careful driving along various twisting and turning paths being used by various other travelers, both local civilians and foreign travelers like Jack and Dalla, snaking past the various pockets of lethal radiation and active warzones until eventually reaching the end of Bakersfield. Once outside of the anarchic city ruins, Jack drove back onto the main, cracked and crumbling roadway and plunged back into the dry and dusty desert before him, setting course for Las Vegas.

“Who was that woman from before? And what were you two talking about?” Dalla asked Jack.

“That woman’s name is Jada. We met during my first trip to Bakersfield, though she was just a regular soldier back then, and not a commanding officer like she is now. She’s actually kinda similar to you, now that I think about it.”

“How so?”

“It’s because, just like how you were forced out of Cascadia by those maniacs up there, she was forced to flee Texas when it was invaded by white supremacists.”

“Oh, well that’s sad. Did you two meet during whatever it was you two were talking about?”

“Yeah, that incident I mentioned while talking to her was something that happened when I first passed through here. A caravan of slavers was passing through the city, but due to the hostility that slavers face around there, they’d disguised themselves as regular merchants. To make a long story short, we found out who the slavers actually were, a deadly gunfight ensued, and the slavers fled the city, heading towards Las Vegas, with me and some other people chasing after them.”

“Oh, I see. Why were you chasing them?”

Jack’s eyes narrowed a bit when he heard the question. “It's a long story. I don’t wanna bore you with all the details.” he said in a tense tone.

“Well, uh, ok then.” Dalla turned away and looked through the small slits in the metal plating which covered the car window next to her, out into the wasteland landscape around them. Seemingly board, Dalla reached behind her and rummaged around a bit, eventually pulling out a book. Wiping dust off of it, she opened up the book and began to read through its yellowed pages.

#post apocalyptic #post apocalypse #post nuclear #sci fi #science fiction #fiction #serialfiction #short fiction #chapter #chapter 2 #original writing #creative writing #original story #original fiction #war #death

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himawanai · 4 months

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im so glad to have met you 5million other people who were brain poisoned by anime crap and unmonitored internet access at the tender age of 10 in my phone

#text #shoutout to the time i was 15 and tried to post about monogatari on twitter and got nuclear warheads in response #that is a fair response to monogatari but i dont know why it took me this long to figure out #'oh of course the people w similar brain poision to me are on tumblr'

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weirdozjunkary · 3 months

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I normally don’t like to post about serious shit like this because in all honesty it makes me uncomfortable to talk about, as well as I don’t think I can talk about it as well as plenty of others who can, and I do fear about spreading misinformation. But fuck this shit, I have been silent during this for far too long!

It has been over 100 days since Israel has killed THOUSANDS of Palestinians and have flattened near all of the Gaza Strip. They say they’re doing this to free their hostages from Hamas, but when offered them back in exchange for a ceasefire they REFUSED IT. This was never about their people or their hostages or whatever fucking bullshit they decided to spread in hopes for sympathy. This is about control, this about colonization, this is about a GENOCIDE.

My country Canada is one of the few countries in support of Palestine, despite my government also doing minuscule things to help the Palestinians, because if they actually tried to help, they would also have to acknowledge the colonization, racism, and genocide of the indigenous people that live here. My country, like the others who are also supporting Israel, is being run by a bunch of fucking despicable cowards who have been playing into the lies and blatant propaganda that Israel has been spewing out like fucking filth.

They get to live comfortably in their homes, not worried about anything, while Palestinians are displaced, dying, cold, hungry, afraid. How many fucking times do they have to show you their dead families, injuries, ruined or destroyed buildings, sobbing faces to get it through your fucking heads?! Israel minister just renewed a call to strike GAZA with a NUCLEAR BOMB!!!

If you support Israel in ANY sort of way, you are a piece of shit, and I hope that hell has a place just for fucking assholes like you. What the absolute fuck is wrong with you?

#text post #palestine #ceasfire now #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #free gaza #cw: genocide #CW: nuclear weaponry

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arotechno · 3 months

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these tags have been bothering me for a few days now. i understand wanting some private time at home with your partner, but can you not see that this is EXACTLY the attitude i'm talking about?

does your third housemate ALSO get an allotted time where you and your partner have to leave, or is it only for you? is this something you coordinate on days when your housemate is already independently making other plans, or are you just expecting to be able to kick them out of the house at will like this is a college dorm room?

this isn't a situation where you are three equal parties building a life, this is you and your partner treating someone else like a third wheel you wish would go away and a money bank to help you pay your bills. if that works for all parties involved then it's no skin off my nose, but can't you see that this is literally not at all the situation that i was describing? i'll make a very personal post about how it hurts when people act like my housemates would be justified in trying to get rid of me and alloromantic people will literally be like "this sounds great—as long as i can get rid of you!" like do y'all hear yourselves. do you actually see the words when aros post or is it just static for you.

this is the way people talk about their children, how they want their children out of the house so they can have some alone time. not the way you should be talking about a fellow adult who literally pays for and whose name is on the deed of the house you all live in. aro people aren't housepets.

#op #god this fucking sucks. can y'all get some self awareness #alloros mind your own fucking business challenge!! learn to read the room!! it was a personal post!!#(this does not apply to anyone who reblogged agreeing w how stupid the nuclear family model is #and sharing their own similar households you are all genuinely sosososo cool)#i like solidarity i just don't like people trivializing and missing the point of everything i say!

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aurorasandsad-prose · 6 months

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I really do fail to understand how people are able to justify this genocide at all even after 'claiming' to know the narratives of both the sides?

How can you remain neutral in face of mass murder?

All that privilege must be real nice. Getting to sleep in your beds, safe from this living hell, while justifying genocide must be real nice. Shame on you! Shame on you! Shame on you!

And I'm sorry to the Palestinians. I'm sorry the world's humanity is conditional. I'm sorry that we have failed you.

#palestine #free palestine #genocide #someone literally argued with me about being blinded by Palestine's side of the story because I'm too emotionally invested #and I provided verified resources to support whatever I had posted #I literally did math and supported it with verified data to prove the quarter of a nuclear bomb claim #and I was enfuriated by the lack of empathy #I really am sorry that we have failed you #I am sorry that you have to prove everything even when you are the victim here #I'm sorry I cannot do more #auroras thoughts #free gaza #gaza strip #gazaunderattack #save gaza

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thefearandnow · 9 months

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So with Oppenheimer coming out tomorrow, I feel a certain level of responsibility to share some important resources for people to understand more about the context of the Manhattan Project. Because for my family, it’s not just a piece of history but an ongoing struggle that’s colonized and irradiated generations of New Mexicans’ lives and altered our identity forever. Not only has the legacy of the Manhattan Project continued to harm and displace Indigenous and Hispanic people but it’s only getting bigger: Biden recently tasked the Los Alamos National Lab facility to create 30 more plutonium pits (the core of a nuclear warhead) by 2026. So this is a list of articles, podcasts and books to check out to hear the real stories of the local people living with this unique legacy that’s often overlooked.

This is simply the latest mainstream interest in the Oppenheimer story and it always ALWAYS silences the trauma of the brown people the US government took advantage of to make their death star. I might see the movie, I honestly might not. I’m not trying to judge anyone for seeing what I’m sure will be an entertaining piece of art. I just want y’all to leave the theater knowing that this story goes beyond what’s on the screen and touches real people’s lives: people whose whole families died of multiple cancers from radiation from the Trinity test, people who’s ancestral lands were poisoned, people who never came back from their job because of deadly work conditions. This is our story too.

The first and best place to learn more about this history and how to support those still resisting is to follow Tewa Women United. They’ve assembled an incredible list of resources from the people who’ve been fighting this fight the longest.

https://tewawomenunited.org/2023/07/oppenheimer-and-the-other-side-of-the-story

The writer Alicia Inez Guzman is currently writing a series about the nuclear industrial complex in New Mexico, its history and cultural impacts being felt today.

https://searchlightnm.org/my-nuclear-family/

https://searchlightnm.org/the-abcs-of-a-nuclear-education/

https://searchlightnm.org/plutonium-by-degrees/

Danielle Prokop at Source NM is an excellent reporter (and friend) who has been covering activists fighting for Downwinder status from the federal government. They’re hoping that the success of Oppenheimer will bring new attention to their cause.

https://sourcenm.com/2023/07/19/anger-hope-for-nm-downwinders/

https://sourcenm.com/2022/01/27/new-mexico-downwinders-demand-recognition-justice/

One often ignored side of the Manhattan Project story that’s personal for me is that the government illegally seized the land that the lab facilities eventually were built on. Before 1942, it was homesteading land for ranchers for more than 30 families (my grandpa’s side of the family was one). But when the location was decided, the government evicted the residents, bought their land for peanuts and used their cattle for target practice. Descendants of the homesteaders later sued and eventually did get compensated for their treatment (though many say it was far below what they were owed)

https://www.hcn.org/issues/175/5654

Myrriah Gomez is an incredible scholar in this field, working as a historian, cultural anthropologist and activist using a framework of “nuclear colonialism” to foreground the Manhattan Project. Her book Nuclear Nuevo Mexico is an amazing collection of oral stories and archival record that positions New Mexico’s era of nuclear colonialism in the context of its Spanish and American eras of colonialism. A must read for anyone who’s made it this far.

https://uapress.arizona.edu/book/nuclear-nuevo-mexico

There isn’t a ton of podcasts about this (yet 👀) but recently the Washington Post’s podcast Field Trip did an episode about White Sands National Monument. The story is a beautifully written and sound designed piece that spotlights the Downwinder activists and also a discovery of Indigenous living in the Trinity test area going back thousands of years. I was blown away by it.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/podcasts/field-trip/white-sands-national-park/

#oppenheimer #oppenheimer movie #barbenheimer #manhattan project #new mexico #los alamos #I never do posts like this #but I felt compelled #theres just so much like nuclear worship going on right now

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eowyntheavenger · 9 months

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If we’re talking about nuclear justice, please don’t forget the Marshall Islands.

Many people have already pointed out how the Oppenheimer film glosses over the effects of nuclear testing on Indigenous communities in the United States, and it’s undeniable that more people need to know about this. More attention also needs to be paid to the Marshall Islands, where the legacy of US nuclear testing still affects the Marshallese people to this day. Most Americans don’t even know where the Marshall Islands is—let alone what the US government did there during the Cold War.

Between 1946 and 1958, the United States detonated 67 nuclear weapons on the Marshall Islands, which was then a US trust territory. The tests yielded the same level of radiation as 7,000 Hiroshima-sized atomic bombs, or 1.6 Hiroshima bombs every day for 12 years. The US government didn’t even evacuate some islanders from close proximity to the testing grounds. The fallout—which spread across the islands and beyond—caused deaths, miscarriages, stillbirths, radiation sickness, cancer, and many other health problems, with high cancer rates persisting to this day. Whole islands remain uninhabitable, and generations have been displaced.

It gets even worse. The US government knew that certain islands were too dangerous for human habitation and resettled the Marshallese there anyway; then US scientists studied the effects of radiation on them without their knowledge or consent in a secret program called Project 4.1. The US government secretly brought radioactive waste from Nevada and buried it in a concrete dome on Enewetak Atoll that is now vulnerable to erosion from the rising seas. And the US military also used the Marshall Islands for at least a dozen biological weapons tests. The US government did all of this to the Marshall Islands while it was a trust territory under US protection.

But in the decades since nuclear testing ended—even since the Marshall Islands’ independence in 1986—it has never received full compensation from the United States. Never.

There is a lot more that everyone should know about this history, and I recommend starting here to learn more:

#Oppenheimer #Marshall Islands #nuclear tests #nuclear justice #my post

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