For people who enjoy post-apocalyptic fiction, there never seems to be enough of it. For me, it’s not so much the world ending in a thermonuclear bang as the survival story after.
This is why I picked up Tim Washburn's “The Day After Oblivion.” I read one or two survival thrillers a year, and found the premise interesting enough with the usual promise of a ragtag assortment of Americans as they navigate the aftermath. Washburn delivers on this promise after putting the world through the ringer.
Although a former journalist with a knack for disaster scenarios, this one starts a little weaker than it ends. The story starts with a slightly less plausible cause of one bad actor fooling everybody into believing someone else did it, followed immediately by a series of gratuitous character introductions just so they be consumed in nuclear fire. Among the late introductions are the survivors Washburn intends to keep around. A couple of teachers who were bringing students home from a trip abroad, a submarine crew grappling with the last orders of a government, and a father and son who eventually find a sailboat and navigate treacherous waters.
Chief among his choices is the Larson family. A father, Gage, is a stoic farmer tending 1,280 acres in Oklahoma. He, his wife, and children, hunker in a storm cellar during the blasts and eventually emerge to scavenge through fallout-choked farmlands. Gage's quiet competence and his wife's fierce maternal drive make them relatable anchors in the chaos, their banter a rare respite from the grimness.
Eventually, you do end up cheering these different groups on, even if Washburn doesn’t always make it easy. Many encounters are too quick to devolve into quickdraw moments, the dialogue is a bit awkward at times, and our heroes tend to be oddly insulated from the apocalyptic toll compared to the people they come across. Sometimes this makes the book creak under its own weight.
In many ways, the story evokes Pat Frank's “Alas, Babylon, an early gold standard of nuclear fiction. But where Frank's novel is a sophisticated meditation on community and decay, Washburn's feels like a stripped-down, less nuanced cousin. It also made me recall David Graham's “Down to a Sunless Sea,” which is another overlooked gem that plunges readers into global nuclear winter. Graham's scope is broader, tracing arcs from London to the Arctic with a poetic bleakness that lingers like radiation. While Washburn dials back the despair, there is still something to be said for a more optimistic lens. And ultimately, I think post-apocalyptic fans will be okay with the novel. It’s a bit more of binge read than something that will stay with you, but enjoyable nonetheless. 3 1/2 Stars, rounded up to 4.