Nuclear Winter Devil Storm

wire strung across the Overseas Highway. Similar to barbed wire, which features pointed barbs along a strand of wire, concertina wire was used by the military and prisons to control people. However, rather than having pointed barbs, concertina wire was made with sharp blades, which can slice deep into flesh and are oftentimes fatal to the unsuspecting person who tries to climb over it.
The spiral, coiled wire made of razor-sharp stainless steel had been stretched across the road by two baggage-towing machines on loan from the Marathon airport. They were used by the checkpoint guards as the last line of defense before the Overseas Highway crossed the water at the Jewfish Creek Bridge.
The first wave of people in front of Peter never saw the two rolls of wire stretched across the road in front of them. The dark conditions coupled with their panicked state of mind had prevented them from registering what was about to happen to their bodies until it was too late.
It was a brutal, arguably illegal way of securing any border. The results of the first group of people who encountered it in those early morning hours proved why it was often used to secure a perimeter.
Cries of agony filled the air as limbs were severed and faces were sliced open. The men who ran into the wire first were then crushed by those behind them, who fell on top of their bodies. As they squirmed and wiggled to get free, they only became more entangled as the concertina wire dug into their flesh.
Peter reached the wire and slipped on a pool of blood just before he was cut by the sharp blades. He pushed himself away from the carnage just as another wave of refugees ran past him and ran into the wire.
“Peter! You have to hurry!” shouted Jimmy, who was standing on the other side of the double strands of wire. “We’re running out of time.”
“Last chance, Free! Let’s go!” shouted one of Jimmy’s fellow guards.
Jimmy looked back and forth, deciding what to do.
“Go! I’ll find another way,” said Peter amidst the pleas for help from the wounded. Despite the gruesome scene along the wire barriers, others continued their attempts to cross it or even crawl under it. It didn’t end well for them.
“I’m not leaving you!” Jimmy yelled back.
“Retreat, Free! Now!”
Jimmy ignored the order. He moved closer to the concertina wire to get a closer look. He found an option, albeit a brutal one.
“Peter! Over here. Climb over.”
“What?” Peter was confused, but he followed the sound of Jimmy’s voice about forty feet to his left. When he arrived, he discovered what Jimmy had in mind.
A pile of bodies lay across the rolls of wire. The initial push of refugees attempting to cross had forced the two rolls together. However, the wounds they’d encountered when their legs and arms became snarled with the razor-sharp wire had halted their progress. Peter suspected the people at the bottom of the pile were dead. Those on top were bleeding profusely and would succumb within minutes.
He shook his head in disgust. In that moment of adrenaline-fueled desire to join his friend and return home, visions of the despair he’d witnessed along the borders of Serbia and Croatia filled his head. Anger built up within him at the thought of someone in the Florida Keys, quite possibly Jimmy’s aunt, Mayor Lindsey Free, ordering the barbaric concertina wire to be put into place. Then again, somebody had made the foolish decision to blow up the bridges entering the Keys.
“Peter!” Jimmy’s shout brought him back into the present.
Peter had always been athletic as a kid and still enjoyed running for exercise. In high school, he had been on the track team and competed in the high hurdle events. The hurdles measured forty-two inches, somewhat taller than the concertina wire. However, unlike a hurdle used in a track and field event, the doubled-up rolls of wire measured nearly six feet deep.
He took a deep breath and stepped several paces back from the pile of mangled bodies. Then he began to run toward them. He’d have to use the backs of the people as a springboard to push him up, over and past the coils of wire. Peter focused on his own survival and tried to force the uncivilized act out of his mind.
He took off toward the wire. He planted his left foot firmly on the pavement, and then his stride carried him upward until his right foot barely pushed off the back of a dead man. Peter’s body rose into the air, and he sailed past the second coil of razor wire until his forward momentum sent him tumbling along the highway on the other side.
It was crashing into Jimmy that prevented him from further injury other than the scrapes and bruises he received. Both men were on their knees when they came face-to-face.
“Are you okay?” Jimmy asked.
“Helluva an entrance, right?” Peter replied with humor. He shook his body and moved his arms and legs to confirm nothing was broken.
“We’ve gotta go,” said Jimmy as he hoisted his friend off the pavement.
Suddenly, three men rushed past them in the darkness toward the bridge. They were followed by two women and a child. Jimmy and Peter stood dumbfounded, wondering how they were able to pass so quickly.
“They followed your lead,” Jimmy surmised as he encouraged Peter to run toward the bridge.
Soon, a pack of a dozen people were racing along the road toward Key Largo. Peter fought through the pain of his knees and elbows, which had taken the brunt of the impact when he’d hit the pavement. Jimmy slowed to help him along, which allowed several more refugees to race past them into the darkness.
“We’ve gotta pick up the pace. They’re gonna take down the Jewfish Creek Bridge.”
“This is nuts, Jimmy,” said Peter as he willed his legs to move faster. They were running now although they were still being outpaced by several people on both sides of them.
“You have no idea,”