The other people standing there, Alex and Jan Jones and their two children, were in a similarly bad way, after the blasts, and Mike had somehow saved them all. They were the statistically "perfect" family unit- dad, mom, and son and daughter. Gus did not ask Alex or Jan, but he had assumed that the Jones' had used embryonic genetic therapy to enhance their children's natural intelligence and physical fitness, and to guarantee the childrens' sexes. Gus always preferred the more natural ways of making babies. 

It was rough during the first month or so after the Last Day, while `Doc' Mike kept trying to log on to the WorldNet and nursed the rest of the group back to health. After recovery, they all tried to get a grip on what had happened, not only to the world, but to themselves. They had all gained some powers, except for Mike. Mike was lucky, and came away unscathed on the Last of Days. He seemed almost disappointed when he could not find any new abilities in himself. Gus had gained immense strength, endurance and muscle mass. Alex Jones could start fires, Jan could read minds, their boy got rubbery, stretchy bones and the little girl could vanish into thin air. None of them seemed to know what to do, so they all just stayed there in the back of the trailer, waiting for the com-links to open and the sky to clear, but neither of those things happened. When those horribly damaged and deranged survivors, whom they would call ghouls, attacked, it had taken every bit of Gus' strength and the others' new abilities to fight them off. They all knew it was time for the group to split up.

Giving them the thumbs-up and blowing them a short blast on the truck's air horn, Gus hovered off into the gloom that had overtaken the world. He had spent most of the night before and some of the day removing the inhibitors from his turbo-motors, so that un-tethered from the trailer, the hover-cab moved with excellent speed and maneuverability. Gus cut across a field and headed north. He knew exactly where he was going to go. They had each chosen a small, out of the way town to head for, hoping that the devastation they had witnessed was limited to the major cities. He had chosen Rosemont. Rosemont was a small rural town, where he had met a woman years ago. Her name was Anne-Marie. She was married to a skinny, brainiac, retro-hippy scientist type of guy. Not usually her type, but he had a lot of money and had been persistent. She and Gus met at a truck stop in Rosemont and had been instantly attracted to each other, one thing had lead to another, and they had become lovers. She and her husband had a well-defensible farm, and he thought, with any luck her husband, Ned Shepherd, would have been on one of his frequent agro-business trips to Sioux City. Ned would be dead or worse (one of the ghouls), and Gus would be just what Anne-Marie would need right now, he grins to himself. Just wait til she gets a load of me, Gus thinks to himself as he exits a field of genetically enhanced soy-broc-falfa and takes to a little known dirt road. Gus flexed his newly acquired bigger biceps, and smiled again as he thought about how the unholy rads and mutie bombs used on that Last Day made the gene-scientists' best work pale by comparison! He was huge and it was all solid muscle.

He had seen no other living soul on his journey, only the agro-bots working the fields, valiantly trying to save their crops, badly damaged by lack of sunlight, without human intervention. What started as steady rain quickly turned into an ice cold lightning hail storm. The fans on his Peterbilt began throwing clumps of brown and black mud from the road surface. Visibility became almost non-existent. The lightning flashed eerie translucent green and blue light, as he pulled over into an open field near the road to wait out the storm. Gus' cab was a double sleeper, and he had spent countless nights in its bunk, but this time felt different to him from all the others. There was no dispatcher to call, and no log entries to file; he was truly alone in the world this night, for the first time ever.

He shut down the hover fans and parked, but kept the generator running to power the vehicle's light shielding and other small electrical devices. The shielding's inherent ability to scatter and reflect energy and sub-atomic particles was probably the difference that gave him super-strength, instead of being burned to a crisp or turned into a ghoul by the devastation of the Last Day. The shielding was designed to protect the vehicle, driver, and other property in case of collision or accident. It was also integrated into the trucks security system. It would alert him if anyone, or anything, approached the cab while he rested. WorldNet was still down, so there was no way for him to know what was happening outside this little field. A huge swath of green lightning raced across the sky, striking a swollen blue cloud, and suddenly turning bright pink across the wet sky, "Kraaak- Boooomm!" from overhead shook the truck-cab, muffled somewhat by his shielding. Gus looked outside during that brief instance of multi-colored brilliance, and to his relief saw nothing at all.

Turning off the WorldNet com-system, Gus programmed the console to play a selection of pre-recorded digital music, and brought the standard issue Mark V blaster pistol out from it's hiding place under his bunk. Now, more than ever, he was glad he had managed to steal it during his service in the Global Marines. Power to the weapon had been fully restored from the truck's generator. He had had to use it during the ghoul attack. Doc Mike and the others swore they would never tell any one Gus still had it, not that it seemed to matter any more. Placing the blaster on the shelf near his head, he next inspected his old-style double barrel 12 gauge shotgun. It had been his grandfather's, and had been kept in excellent condition throughout the years. Right now, however, it was no more of use than a sturdy club. `Doc' had fired off the last four rounds into that crowd of ghouls, before they finally backed off. He replaced it under the bunk, as another lightning bolt flashed across the sky and the rain and hail pelted his shielding.

That was the last he remembered. His dashboard chronometer read 6 hours later when he awoke suddenly and feeling refreshed. The storm had long ended, and looking out the cab windows he could see deer grazing near a clump of trees just at the edge of his vision and a squirrel going about its business in the constant gloom. The console was still repeating the songs he had chosen before falling asleep, so he pressed the series of buttons that would turn off the music and logon to WorldNet. WorldNet was still down; no audible, visual, or data channels were available, nothing. The shield generator was still operating at full strength, as he started the Peterbilt's hover motors. The deer vanished as the fan began to spin and the turbines started to whine. Gus used the vehicle's built in water reclamator, to quickly wash his face and hands. He was hungry and thirsty, but there was little to eat and the thought of drinking reclamated water still made him gag. He would have liked to have had a simple cup of coffee and cheese danish, but settled for a freshly picked corn-mato, as he got back on the dirt road and headed more-or-less west. If all went well, he would be at Anne-Marie's by lunch time. Suddenly the world seemed less bleak, he grinned and gunned the turbines, throwing mud and small stones in his wake. 

The dirt road eventually turned north again and eventually narrowed to the 3 mile long drive leading to Anne-Marie's farm house. Making his way through the muck and gloom, he came upon a blind curve, purposely blocked by huge tree trunks. The truck came to an abrupt, screeching halt. Flashing red emergency lights immediately came on, both inside and outside of the cab. His console lit up, squawking "You have been involved in a class 4 accident. Do not leave the area. The authorities and medical personnel are being notified", while his comm-unit futilely attempted to logon to WorldNet.

Gus was slightly disoriented, the blockade of cut logs had come up out of nowhere. His shield generator was still functional at half strength, and there was no damage to the cab. Unable to turn off the emergency protocols for at least 45 minutes after an accident, Gus pulled the cab over to the edge of the road, where the ground was a little more solid, and parked. He looked around and saw no one, so he turned off the shield generator and stepped out into the mud. With his great strength, Gus quickly removed the roadblock, and then drove the truck past it. He got out again and put the roadblock back into place. There was still just 2 miles to go.

When Gus approached the large family farm house and garage structures, the duralloy gate was closed and Ned was standing there with his gun. Ned preferred laser weapons, and he carried a hi-powered laser hunting rifle with scope, pointing it at the cab as Gus approached. One or two well-placed shots would take out his truck's shielding. Oh well, Gus thought, it was too late to turn back now. He stopped the truck, lowered shields and rolled down the side window, "Hey Ned, it's just me.". Ned marched silently up to the side of his cab, until the end of the laser rifle was point blank in Gus' face, "I told you never to come back here, you damn S.O.B."

"Now, now, Ned," Gus drawled, then suddenly grabbed the other man's rifle and snapped the hardened plasteel barrel in his hand like he was snapping a pretzel stick. "I think you said, `don't come back here unless it's the end of the world, you damn S.O.B.', and well here I am. Besides I couldn't leave Anne-Marie out here... unprotected." Ned was completely infuriated. He was jumping and cursing like a scarecrow with a squirrel in his shorts. He threw the broken rifle into the tree line and challenged Gus to get out and fight him. Gus was laughing so hard, he did not see what happened next. Gus suddenly found himself face down in the mud with Ned on his back and something snake-like wrapped around his neck. Then Gus realized, the `snake' was Ned's right arm; Ned had been changed and had rubbery bones like that Jones' kid. Gus was able to stand and searched his neck with his huge hands looking for a way to break Ned's hold. He tried to jab Ned in the rib's with his elbow, but the man's ribs absorbed the blows like old rubber tires and the backlash made them both fall again. There was a sound coming from the house as he struggled with Ned in the mud. Anne-Marie had come out to stop the fight. She came close and yelled one single word, "STOP!", and Gus suddenly could not move. Ned's struggling had similarly ceased. Gus tried to lift his head to look up at Anne-Marie, but his muscles simply did not respond.

Anne-Marie had gained a power to paralyze others, and they were frozen until she released them. "Get up and go to the house, Ned." The pressure around Gus' neck lessened and the snaky arm uncoiled from around his neck, "I had you Gus. Remember that." Ned said as he stomped off toward the house. Anne-Marie approached Gus and released her hold on him, "Go to you truck for now. Don't leave, just yet." She said, "I'll come out, and we can talk later." Gus merely nodded, and went to his cab to clean up and change out of his muddy clothes.

Gus waited outside in his truck until way past supper time, when Anne-Marie came out to bring him a plate of food. It was the first real meal he had in months, and he relished every bite as Anne-Marie went back inside. She returned two hours later with her decision. Gus would stay with them in the guest room, and he and Ned would have to work out their differences and get along. She felt they would be better able to survive with two men than only one. They not only survived, they prospered. She loved both men and bore many children for them over the years. That is how the Shepherd-Jenkins Clan, one of the most influential families of the Seekers, began almost 400 years ago. 

Allisa Shepherd-Jenkins closed the ancient, tattered journal, and excused her students to their next session.