by D.C. Clemens
Chapter Eleven
Unlit
Instinctively grabbing my right arm, Liz launched a short, high-pitched scream right next to my ear, complemented instantaneously by her mother. I searched for Dayce, but quickly recalled that he was sleeping on the second floor. I was glad he slept as heavily as he did and hoped the trend would go unbroken.
After a brief interlude where only sharp breathing resonated in the living room, Liz’s father wondered aloud, “What the fuck just happened?” Without wasting any time waiting for a response, he rose from his seat and looked out the window of the other room behind us. From there, his stifled voice announced, “It looks like our neighbor’s lights are out too.”
“Can’t imagine it’s a coincidence the power went out as soon as we started attacking,” said Orins. He too departed from the room, though in a separate direction from his father.
“Baby, my phone’s out. Can I borrow yours?” Delphnia asked her husband when he returned. “I want to check to see if our friends are okay.”
“Sure,” said Neves, pulling out his phone from his pocket. But as he checked its status, he clearly did not like what he saw. Abrasively fiddling with the communication device, he said, “Shit, my phone isn’t working either. Now how does a blackout make a cellphone stop working?”
I procured my own phone and saw that it also would not awaken with my command.
“EMP?” I whispered to myself.
Liz, who had never released my arm from her grasp, unquietly asked me, “What did you say?”
Everyone in the room stared at me, so I was left with no other option than to speak my mind. I was sure my awkwardness did not fail to emerge alongside the self-doubting manner I could not help but convey. “I’m no expert, but this could very well be the effects of EMP. An electromagnetic pulse would fry any unprotected electronic device in its range. Orins is probably right, our attack must have activated the defense mechanism in that Tower.”
“So our phones are fucked?” inquired Neves, indicating he wished for a more layman’s version.
“Pretty much.”
“Even the landline?”
“Most likely.”
A moving ray of light emerged from the kitchen. Orins reappeared with a flashlight in his hand.
“I can only get one of them to work,” he said.
“How long does this EMP last?” my mother asked, turning to face me from her small lounge chair.
“It’s not a question of length,” I said. Feeling more questions coming, I decided to educate her and everyone else a little more. “The EMP itself doesn’t have to last longer than a second. It’s just a matter of replacing every system that’s been affected, and most of those would be near major cities, but with the infection… It could be a long time before even a few regions can be restored.” I began not quite believing my own use of the phrase “a long time.” The more I thought about it, the more I thought how lucky I would be to see an electric streetlight light up ever again.
With my outlook rapidly falling, and my faith beginning to do the same, I heard Neves say, “Oh! I have a generator in my toolshed. Orins, Roym, come help me with it.” He promptly left with Orins strolling behind him.
My contemplations made me delay at my father-in-law’s request, but I felt Liz nudge my arm and I was out the door before I knew it. We busily prepped the generator for its duty, which I hoped it still knew how to accomplish, given it was shielded in an aluminum shed.
I must have been more preoccupied with my dismal thoughts than I supposed, since Neves asked me, “You have a very serious look on your face, Roym. Well, more so than usual.”
“Of course he’s serious,” interjected Orin. “The world did just go back in time a hundred years!”
“Actually, it’s not just that,” I started to say, for there was no sense in keeping my thoughts to myself any longer. “It’s not even really about the infection. We’re cut off now, Neves, and when supplies become lower… Let’s just say our neighbors aren’t going to be so neighborly.”
Neves flashed me a suspicious glance before he asked, “What are you saying, Roym?”
“I’m praying to our ancestors and the Spirits that the military will eventually restore order, but, if they don’t, it means outside help will be practically nonexistent. Food, medicine, and clean water will ultimately run low, and it won’t be just the aliens we’ll have to worry about.”
“Except you forget how the Iva River provides all the water, rich farmland, and fish we could ever want,” stated Neves encouragingly and resolutely. “No fighting necessary or inevitable.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said delicately. It was a mistake on my part to advise Neves to be skeptical of others or to warn him of the dangers of a desperate mind. This was a man who immediately befriended anyone he met and only saw the best in others.
“You know, people are probably meeting at City Hall right now,” Orins announced. “We should go and see if they come up with a plan.”
“That’s a good idea, son. Just maybe we can avoid total anarchy with this meeting,” Neves said sardonically. He casted a not so subtle glare at me, but he lost it when he asked, “Wait, do cars work after this EMP?”
“Depends,” I answered. “A new luxury car like Delphnia’s probably won’t work, but your old diesel truck should be fine. I’ll go check my van in a minute.”
“Let me go with you,” Liz entreated me a few minutes later, her pleading eyes gazing up at me when I told her of our recently decided task of visiting City Hall.
I tried my best not to look into her persuasive eyes, lest they should sway me. It was never easy for me to refuse her wishes, even if I only did have her best interests at heart. “You should stay here in case Dayce wakes up. Don’t worry, we won’t be long and I doubt anything more can happen in the next few hours.”
We left in Neves’ truck after successfully setting up the generator to the old, unused fridge in the garage. Before undertaking the road that led into the main part of town, Neves decided to pay a visit to a good friend of his, a nearby neighbor I only knew by the name of Bervin. He promptly joined us when he heard the purpose of our trip. Bervin was a little older and thinner than Neves, but looked just as spry. He lived alone, his wife having passed a few years back, and was childless, as far as I knew.
The sight was bizarrely peaceful as we drove on the desolate countryside road. The leaves on the trees and each blade of grass were standing perfectly still in the ominously absent breeze, only being disturbed by our headlights when they gazed over them. At best, only some dim candle lights flickered from inside a few homes to show there were still any signs of life around us. Tess’ meager moonlight was barely visible behind a batch of clouds, and Newt seemingly sensed what was happening below and wasn’t brave enough to appear from behind its bigger sibling. It was not until we reached the main road did the effects of the vast outage become more clearly visible. Some cars were left petrified in the middle of the lanes, but there were more working vehicles traveling with us than I would have first guessed. There were numerous accidents in the more congested streets caused by the power failure of traffic lights and which blocked us from entering some avenues. I shuddered to think what the conditions were like for the invaded cities.
Fortunately, my imagination did not have enough time to wander wildly, for I then perceived City Hall in the distance, looking indiscreet in its haughty design of elevated steps and gaudy, silvery pillars. Orins’ expectation became fact when I saw people assembled around the building. The four of us exited the truck half a block away and merged with the crowd. It didn’t take long after we arrived to hear of the disconcerting news that all power was lost in the two Hornstone hospitals, with even the backups failing them. The main mission at this point was to find any spare generators anyone could part with before more lives were lost by this unanticipated tragedy. It did not take Neves any time to respond to the need.
“Orins, go bac
k home and give them ours,” he decisively ordered. The instruction was so staunch that I briefly saw him in a military uniform. “Then go to the restaurant and see how much supplies you can get from there, especially ice, so we can put some food in a cooler. Here are the keys. Roym, Bervin, and I will stay here and see what we can do.”
“All right, I’ll wait for you guys back here when I’m done,” said Orins, his departure resembling the soldier who had just received commands from his superior. I do not believe I ever saw him in a more purposeful demeanor.
There were a few police officers supervising the crowd and guarding the front entrance. Recognizing one of them, Neves began maneuvering through the gathering, with I’m sure his ears still open to any more pleas for assistance. I was simply glad no one was asking for any limbs or organs, knowing he could convince me to give up my lungs to an avid cigar smoker. Neves moved to greet the known officer, who looked more youthful than most of his fellow cohorts.
“Hey, Mr. Ave, is your family doing all right?” the police officer asked when he noticed Neves approaching.
Greeting the officer with a hasty handshake, Neves replied, “Thank the Sprits they are. How are yours holding up?”
“My parents are fine, and so is Suva, but my sister and nephew were in Iva. They tried leaving, but I don’t know if they made it out.” The young officer tried to keep his voice hopeful, but his twitching eyes were betraying him.
“You can be sure we’ll be praying for them, Drian,” Neves said sympathetically. He next turned to myself and Bervin and said, “Oh, by the way, this is my son-in-law, Roym Rosyth and my neighbor Bervin Tevens,” pointing to each of us respectably before placing his hand on the officer’s shoulder. “Roym, Bervin, this here is Drian Ano, the finest officer in the force. Drian, I know it’s early, but do you have any new info for us?”
“Sorry, sir, not much. We’re still trying to get the mayor and most of the city council together. We have to send people to pick them up personally with no phones or radios working. Organizing will take a while, I guess.”
“Shouldn’t there be more cops here?” asked Bervin.
“The captain wanted most of us near the stores and supermarkets,” answered Drian. “She didn’t want riots and looting to start there. Hopefully, we can get the lights back on soon.”
“Actually,” began Neves, “according to my son-in-law, I’m afraid that might not happen anytime soon.”
Before I could completely build my conviction to respond with more detail, I heard a familiar voice behind me ask, “Why not?”
I twisted around to see the familiar voice matched a familiar face, though the years had definitely worn it down a bit since I saw him last, which was no less than ten years ago.
Drian was the first to speak, saying respectfully, “Hello, Captain Tillar.”
“You have a new captain now, Mr. Ano,” he responded, attempting to sound serious, but it didn’t come across as so. I could tell he still enjoyed the title. “You know she’ll be offended if she hears you call me that.” Then, gluing his steady eyes to me, he asked, “Anyway, what’s this about the lights not coming back on, Mr. Rosyth?”
“Well, sir, I don’t believe this is a normal blackout,” I said, clearing my throat once or twice, trusting I at least did not look as jittery as I felt. “I believe attacking the ship caused them to use EMP, or something similar, thus frying anything within hundreds of miles, possibly more. If the burst reached the hydroelectric dam that powers this town, then even under normal circumstances it would take weeks to get the power back on.”
“EMP, huh?” he said, musing over the acronym. “That’s a term I think I’ve heard once or twice while I was in the Army. An officer I knew was a tech nut who’d always lock his electronics in metal boxes or cabinets. I once asked him why he did this and his answer was EMP protection. Actually, I believe his exact words were ‘If our enemy has any fucking sense, they’d set off a nuke high in the sky to create a big ass electromagnetic pulse to knock out our equipment for thousands of miles.’ I guess that means this enemy has some sense.”
Caring more about people than science talk, Neves asked Mr. Tillar, “Is Kaya at the hospital?”
“She had the night shift,” he responded, “so she’s been there for some time already. In fact, I just dropped off both girls there not too long ago.” He glimpsed at me with his firm expression when he mentioned the girls. “They wanted to help as best they could.”
“And Helmtor?”
“Last I heard, he was stationed on the Rica heading toward the waters off Iva, but that was yesterday. I have no idea where he is or what he’s doing now.”
As he finished speaking, a vintage red convertible made its way ostentatiously to the scene. An officer was driving the not so understated vehicle and parked it by the curb near the steps of the entrance. In the passenger seat adjoining the steps sat a man looking slightly younger than I and wearing a clean, pressed tan suit.
“Good, now we can all stop worrying,” Mr. Tillar said under his breath, not failing to display his sarcasm. “The mayor is here to save the day. Come with me, Roym. I’m probably going to need you to stop me from punching that kid’s face in.”
I usurped a glimpse at Neves, whose only response was an uncertain shrug. I knew the real reason I was granted the liberty of accompanying him was to bestow my knowledge to the mayor. I followed Mr. Tillar down the steps to reach our target, who still stood by the car looking a little overwhelmed by the crowd. The officer who had masqueraded as the driver moments before kept the mayor between himself and the car in an attempt to hold the throng of inquiring people at bay. This was no inconvenience for the retired police captain. Mr. Tillar was simply able to give a nod to the officer, who had likely once served under him, and approached the mayor as if he had already made a reservation.
Without any fanfare, Mr. Tillar introduced me and I was immediately expected to speak, leaving me with no other option but to blatantly express my theory, since I knew I would unlikely have another chance to provide my input. I went on to explain as simply and deliberately as I could what EMP did and how it meant there was little chance for the power to revive if we remained unaided by the outside world. I went on further to say that his top priority should be to efficiently manage resources, as that would logically help keep order. He seemed to agree with all I said, going by the little nods he made, but his wise eyes, agape mouth, and squirming fingers made me believe he would have followed the counsel of a drunken child.
I for one had never felt more important as when I was disclosing information that seemingly no one else in the proximity knew or thought to consider. The listeners who were overhearing truly cared what I had to say, something I was not accustomed to experiencing in my classes. However, my importance diminished just as quickly as I had acquired it. I reverted to my usual obscure stature when the captain of the police presented herself to our gathering. Even Mr. Tillar was less distinguished standing next to her, which was not an easy accomplishment. She carried a pair of walkie-talkies that somehow managed to escape the fate of most of the others of their kind. I saw a few more were being distributed among other officials. With my prominence being sapped to near none existence and Mr. Tillar’s bearing becoming reassured with a competent leader in the captain at the helm, I thought this no better occasion than to take my leave from him. He must have shared the same notion, for he offered his hand to me for an official parting.
As we shook hands an uncontrollable urge made me ask, “How’s Siena?”
Mr. Tillar kept the same piercing aspect, but he could still not help stare at me attentively for a moment. In due course, he answered, “Like everyone else, she’s worried for the people she knows, and unlike many others, she’s worried for the people she doesn’t know.” He said this with a sense of pride that I knew all too well only came when he discussed his two daughters. “She tries to keep busy at the hospital since she’s returned. How about your family? Are they doin
g okay?”
“My mother is with us and I don’t have any siblings, so I can’t complain too much.”
“Listen, Roym, considering the circumstances, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to see Siena. In truth, I think it would make her happy, but it’s up to you. I’ll tell her I saw you, but that’s it.”
When Mr. Tillar completed his assertion, I felt as if I was handed the key to a gate that I spent years trying to conceal behind an overgrowth of vines. The last thing I needed, now of all times, was to open the doorway and remind myself what was on the other side. With this torrent of feelings owning me, the only reply I could come forth with was a meager, “I’ll think about it.”
In return, Mr. Tillar gave me a half-hearted nod and did the honors of departing first, expeditiously becoming engulfed in the mass of bodies.
The once short walk back to the truck became longer than I last experienced it, or perhaps I could have unwittingly walked around in circles, for I decided to use the key. The lightless town I was walking through, the horrifying infection happening only a few hundred miles away, the invaders who had caused the chaos, they did not prevail in my reality in that moment. The imageries of our young love, along with the future life we were envisioning, all flashed before me like photographs in a slideshow. I couldn’t help but smile a little when I realized that no matter what decision I had made, no matter what track I would have chosen, each road would have led me to this town. There was also the possibility a boy would have been born, a boy that would have been given the name of his late grandfather. When I concentrated on the blurry figures in front of me, I saw that they morphed into Bervin and Neves talking to one another as they waited for Orins to bring the truck. Seeing them forced me to stop the slideshow and replace it with the ones that represented the here and now. I had already made my choice nine years earlier, or, in a way, it was Dayce who had made the choice for me.
The following days bypassed us without too much adversity. We returned back to town a few times to gather what news we could, even if it was just the local news. Several radios were found that were fortunate enough not to be impaired, but the only thing they could bequeath to us outside the town was the vindictive sound of static. The necessities of food and water were naturally foremost in most minds, though fuel developed into the most precious inedible resource. Leaving was a renowned concept for many, but as the fuel pumps could not implement their designated task, only a handful left town. These were mostly loners who did not have to worry about the needs of companions. A few desperate individuals couldn’t restrain themselves from attempting to obtain gas by pilfering it from other vehicles, but most were met by some form of justice. It was difficult to take something considered more valuable than any jewel and was constantly watched over.
Meanwhile, we were able to revive our van with just a few replacement parts, and by “we” I really meant Neves and Liz. I would not call myself the most useful when it came to automobile expertise, which Liz never failed to tease me about anytime the chance presented itself. She always did love the art of repairing something with her own hands, especially something that involved getting dirty over, taking great satisfaction in it, as did I when I called her “My Greasy Girl.” We did not have the incentive to leave like others did, but that’s not to say we were not prepared in case the occasion arose. Considering our supply of gasoline outweighed our supply of diesel, it was decided that, in an unforeseen event, we would take the van. In any case, if we had time to jump start the truck, we would also take Neves’ vehicle for as long as it could run.
Providentially, clean water and food was not a major concern. In fact, I don’t think I had ever eaten as much as I did in those two days. We had to sacrifice ourselves by eating our share of the food items that could not be preserved for long without refrigeration. Dayce did not shy away from devouring all the desserts he could consume, though he was committed to not show any discomfort. Even with our full appetites, there was still plenty of more enduring food in Delphnia’s pantry, which we were going to be much more prudent about in the future. We couldn’t exactly say the same about our reserve of freshwater, but if the worst did happen, all we needed to do was boil water from the canal. Seeing as we were likely living like the kings of old compared to a great many people, I made sure not to show any bit of angst. Complaining was not something I felt I had the right to do. Not yet, anyway.