Definitely mother issues. She tapped the next one.
Honey trust me this is no joke. Do not tell anyone just get in the car. Keep an ear on the news. Come home now. Don’t stop. I’ll see you at home.
Gemma felt a kick in her chest, a stab of worry that surprised her. This was weird. She tapped the next text, seeing it was from her mum.
We are leving soon. Dad says shud be a couple of hrs. Your hubby better nt be foolng! Luv, Mum xx.
Her Mum hadn’t quite got the hang of texting, but Gemma got the message. This was no joke if her parents were involved, but what the hell was it all about?
Teri hung up the phone and turned to speak, but Gemma had already hit Mark’s number and was waiting for him to pick up. She turned away from her friend, clamping the phone to her ear.
When he picked up she could hear that he was in the car.
‘Oh, thank God you called.’ His tone was a mix of relief and tension. ‘You got my message?’
‘Two of them yeah, and one from Mum. What’s going on?’
She heard him swear at another motorist then exhale, gathering himself. ‘I got a message from Matt. The Government are making an announcement at midday and they’re going to declare a state of emergency nationwide. They may even declare martial law.’
‘What the hell? Because of the earthquakes?’
‘Basically, yeah. It’s fucked a whole lot of things apparently. Doesn’t matter why but he knows it for a fact. The power grid’s in trouble and looks like it’s going to crash. No power means no petrol pumps, no heating and lights; all that shit. I guess no cell phones or anything. It’s nearly twelve now. You need to get in the car and get home. Are you moving?’
She looked around, seeing Teri waiting expectantly. Gemma held up a finger indicating for her to wait a minute.
‘Are you serious?’ she whispered into the phone.
‘Dead serious. Babe, you need to go now. Stay on the line with me but grab your keys and just go, okay? Get on the road and just keep going until you get home. We’ll all meet there. Are you moving?’
‘Okay, okay.’ Gemma felt her head swimming. She knew her husband was not one to panic, but this just seemed so surreal it was unbelievable. She knew her brother-in-law Matt was politically connected, but really? The power grid?
She headed back through the door, seeing Teri’s puzzled look. Gemma gave her an apologetic look and pointed at her phone, pulling a face. Teri shrugged then she was out of sight as Gemma reached the elevator lobby again. The ding of an arriving car alerted Mark.
‘Stay out of the lift,’ he yelled down the line, ‘you’ll get stuck if the power goes out. Take the stairs.’
‘For God’s sake.’ Gemma hit the stairs instead, hurrying up them awkwardly in her stupid office shoes. They weren’t made for rushing, that was for sure. She heard the background noise change down the line, followed by the slamming of a car door. ‘What’re you doing?’
‘I’m in town, grabbing some supplies,’ Mark said. ‘I’m going to pick up the wee man. Honey, it’s like twenty minutes to go. If the phone cuts out just keep going, okay? Texts might even be able to get through. I love you and we will be okay, right?’
‘Yep.’ Gemma was puffing too much to talk. She passed a trio of people hurrying down the stairs and paused to look after them. They didn’t look back, just kept going. ‘I think the news might have broken already.’
She reached her floor and opened the fire door into the open plan office. People were milling about and there was a buzz in the air. A group of her colleagues were gathered around someone’s desk, staring at the monitor.
‘I think people know,’ Gemma said quietly.
‘You need to go,’ Mark repeated urgently. ‘Please honey, just get in the car and get moving before everything shuts down. Don’t forget you’ve got your Get Home Bag if you need it.’
She was about to respond when the lights flickered and went dim. At the same time her phone crackled and she lost the connection.
There was a collective gasp around the office.
Gemma checked her phone. No signal.
Fuck it. This wasn’t good.
Five
The phone was dead and the screen was telling me I had lost the signal. I tried calling her back but just got a busy signal.
I cursed and jammed the phone in my pocket as I turned towards the school. It was in a quiet side street and was normally a pain for us to get to from our place – Archie should really have been going to the local country school, but we liked this one and had been living closer to town when we had put him on the waiting list.
Right now it suited me just fine. I grabbed a slot by the entrance gate. I chugged down the last of the sugar water and wiped my mouth, planning my next move.
It struck me suddenly that maybe I was over reacting. I trusted Matt of course, but what if it wasn’t going to be as bad as predicted? It wasn’t unlike Government departments to have a knee jerk, but it was also standard practice for them to restrict information as well. The situation in Wellington and down-country could well be much worse than the public had been led to believe.
Earthquakes and tsunamis weren’t exactly gentle. I’d seen how things had got tighter immediately after the disasters hit. The Canterbury earthquakes back in 2012 had been bad enough, but this was all that and more.
No, this was not an over-reaction on my part. Clearly we couldn’t rely on the Government to bail us out. This was about survival, and family came first.
The office lady was on the phone when I entered the foyer, and as I signed in to the Visitor’s Book I heard her muttering something to herself about the phones playing up. She put the receiver down as I was scarpering for the door.
‘All okay, Mark?’ she called out.
I stopped with the door open and gave her a wave. ‘Just grabbing Archie for a doctor’s appointment,’ I said. I didn’t wait for a response but headed straight for his classroom. The kids were all in their reading groups when I came in the side door, and several heads turned my way.
I gave Archie a smile and a thumbs-up as I approached. He grinned quickly then put his finger to his lips to shush me. Seven years old and already giving orders. He made a show of concentrating on his book as one of the other kids read a line.
The teacher paused to turn to me.
‘Sorry,’ I said, ‘I just need to grab Archie. I forgot he’s got an appointment.’
She frowned to make sure I understood I was inconveniencing her. ‘I see, right. What kind of appointment?’
‘A personal one.’ I set my jaw firmly.
I had no doubt that the staff knew of my history, and there were all sorts of rumours and lies that had been spread. She probably thought I was some kind of psycho, ready to explode at any moment. Hopefully it was enough to encourage her to leave it alone.
Archie jumped up and grabbed his book bag, quickly putting his book away while I waited. That done, he came over and I knelt down so he could give me a big hug. I felt a lump in my throat as I held my son against my chest.
‘He’ll be coming straight back?’ the teacher asked.
‘Yep,’ I said, lying through my teeth. ‘Come on bud, let’s get a wriggle on.’
I led him outside to the cubbyholes where they kept their bags. While he put his book bag away, I looked back at the kids inside. So young and innocent, quietly reading away with their teachers –apart from the two boys who were flicking bogies at each other, and the ADHD girl who was jumping around looking for attention while her teacher aide was distracted by someone else – they had no idea what was going on.
I spotted a couple of Archie’s little mates at one of the tables. One of them waved and I waved back. My heart lurched. Was I doing the right thing by not giving them all a heads-up? The school had an emergency procedure where parents all got a text to notify them of an event. I could go to the office and let them know to send out an alert.
I checked my watch. Twelve minutes to go. It wouldn’t m
ake any difference now; they’d all know soon enough, if they didn’t already. Gemma’s workmates did, so it was safe to assume the news had leaked.
Archie had put on his sandals and was wrestling with his jacket. I helped him sort out his sleeves and went to zip him up, but he stepped away.
‘No Dad, leave it open.’
Of course. My jacket was unzipped, so he wanted his the same way. When I wore a cap, he wore a cap. If I wore shorts, he wore shorts. I got that.
‘Grab your bag, buddy,’ I said.
‘Aren’t I coming back for lunch?’
‘No, we’re going home.’
‘Why?’ He was curious but not curious enough not to follow instructions. He slung his Lightning McQueen bag onto his back.
‘We’ve just got some things to do at home with Grandma.’
‘But you said I had an appointment.’ He was definitely confused now, trying to get his head around it all. ‘Am I going to the doctors, Dad?’
He was holding my hand as we walked to the truck. I stroked his knuckles with my thumb.
‘No buddy, not the doctors. But we need to get home.’ I bleeped the locks and took his bag while he climbed up into his car seat. ‘You know how the earthquakes happened, and there’s lots of flooding down in Wellington and around there?’
He nodded. We had discussed it all at home, and I knew they’d done some work on it at school.
‘Well that’s all caused some problems, so the Prime Minister – the lady that runs the country – is telling everyone that there’s a big emergency. So what that means for us is that the supermarkets and shops aren’t going to have much food and stuff, and the schools will close for a bit while everything gets sorted out.’ I had eye to eye with him. ‘Does that make sense?’
‘But Dad, it’s not school holidays yet.’ He scratched his knee while he turned the news over in his head. ‘What about reading? I didn’t finish my book today.’
‘That’s okay,’ I said, ‘we’ve got your book and you can read it to me or Grandma this afternoon. And we’ve got lots of books at home.’
Archie nodded innocently. ‘And I can get Grandma to read with me.’
‘That’s right.’ I leaned in and kissed his soft cheek. ‘Grandma loves reading to you, doesn’t she?’
I got in and fired it up while Archie carried on chatting away. I loved listening to his little stories but my mind was elsewhere just now. It was coming up on midday. I flicked the radio on as we drove away from school.
Instead of ads playing as normal there was a very serious sounding DJ, telling me that there was about to be an important announcement from the Prime Minister and they were going across live to the temporary Parliament.
I turned onto the main road, hearing the Prime Minister’s voice over the speakers.
‘…it is with regret that I must declare a national state of emergency effective immediately…’
It sounded like she was almost drowned out by shouted questions and it took a few seconds for calm to be restored.
‘I encourage all members of our communities to remain calm and ensure that loved ones and neighbours are secure and taken care of. Civil Defence and all the emergency services are working hard, round the clock, to ensure that this situation is dealt with as soon as possible. To assist them in that I have mobilised the armed forces, so you can expect to see Army, Navy and Air Force personnel deploying in the communities to help those that need help. They will also be assisting Police to maintain the peace.’
It sounded like a step short of martial law to me.
She droned on with some spin which frustrated me. I wanted some specifics but she said that it was difficult to put a time frame on the emergency at this stage. It was therefore difficult to predict the level of impact the emergency would have on food supplies and whether there would be fuel shortages or not.
It sounded to me like a decision had been made, but without much forethought about the impact that decision would have. Or if there had been, the conclusions weren’t being shared with the general public; including the minority of taxpayers that had put that bunch of muppets in power.
The announcement finished with the reminder to listen out for further information, and to comply with instructions from the authorities as everyone worked together to get the situation under control.
It didn’t fill me with confidence. I switched the radio off.
As far as I was concerned, it was up to us to look after ourselves.
Six
Sandy McMasters added a pile of clothes to her open suitcase and looked across the bed at her husband. ‘Are you really sure about this?’ she said.
Rob stopped cramming in socks and underwear and straightened up. His suitcase was smaller than his wife’s and nearly full. ‘Well I’m not happy about it, if that’s what you mean,’ he said. ‘But Mark’s no panicker – in fact, he’s the complete opposite of that – so I trust his judgement. If he says it’s time to move, then it’s time to move.’
‘Hmmm.’ Sandy paused, a nicely folded merino jumper in her hands. ‘It just…I don’t know.’
‘Honey, I know what you’re thinking.’ Rob looked her in the eye. ‘This is way out of left field, and neither of us wants to pack up and go stay with Gem and Mark, but hopefully it will only be a few days and it’ll all blow over.’ He smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. ‘Believe me, after nearly fifty years, I know what you’re thinking.’
Sandy felt herself smile despite her misgivings and added the merino jumper to her case. ‘Hopefully. At least we’ll get to spend a few days with wee Archie. He’ll be on you like Poppa’s little shadow.’
Rob grinned, knowing she was right. His grandson was the apple of his eye and the feeling was mutual. Having raised daughters, Rob was particularly taken with his youngest grandchild, and having the boy’s middle name named after him was something he cherished.
He turned to the wardrobe and took a pair of jeans and a pair of cargo pants off their hangars, folded them carefully and placed them in the suitcase. He was almost done. The contents of his suitcase were meticulously neat – the habits instilled by the Navy during his youth were far from dying off. He burrowed into the back of the wardrobe, pushing aside the long coats, and emerged with a dusty rifle in his hands.
‘Is that thing still here?’ Sandy cocked an eyebrow as he leaned the rifle against the side of the bed. ‘I thought you gave that to Mark?’
‘Never quite got round to it.’ Rob found the bolt in his bedside table drawer and fitted it to the rifle. He picked the weapon up and grinned. ‘That’s a Lee-Enfield No. 1 Mk IV, dear – the pride of the Navy.’
‘And what exactly are you doing with it, anyway?’ she inquired. ‘Shouldn’t it be in a museum somewhere?’
Rob sidestepped the question, digging around in the back of his drawer again. He produced a small oilskin bag and from that he removed two charger clips, each loaded with five rounds.
‘I wonder if Mark’s still got some .303,’ he mused, as he gave the ammo a wipe with a small cleaning cloth.
‘Shouldn’t all that be in a safe?’ Sandy persisted.
‘Probably,’ he agreed, giving the rifle a wipe with the cloth as well. ‘I should probably have a license too.’
Sandy shook her head at her husband’s misdemeanours; he’d always been an irascible type, and it was typical of him to do this. She decided it was best not to pursue it just now and carried on with her packing. She knew, and he knew too, that that wasn’t necessarily the end of the matter though.
By the time their suitcases were packed and waiting by the door it was more than an hour since Mark’s message had come through. Rob put the jug on and made a cup of tea while Sandy set about filling the chilly bin from the garage. She filled it with the perishables from the fridge, knowing they would not last too long. The last thing she wanted to do when this blew over in a few days was to come home to curdled milk and wilted fruit and vegetables.
She eased herself into a chair at the din
ing room table and accepted the cup of tea her husband passed over. Her mind was racing and it seemed like it had been a long day already. She still wasn’t quite sure what to make of the situation – sure, things were bad down south, but that couldn’t affect the whole country could it? And even if it upset things to some extent, surely things would blow over in a few days and everything would return to normal?
Things like this didn’t happen in their little part of the world. Waihi Beach was a coastal paradise, certainly not home to riots and looting and civil unrest. Not that anyone had specifically said that, but she had the impression that was what her son-in-law was thinking. He’d always been serious when it came to things like this, his policing and the like. She had no doubt that was why he had ended up in the position he had; it was not in his nature to back down to people trying to threaten him or his family.
He had gone from being a dedicated Police Sergeant, putting in extra hours to catch bad guys, to being turfed out. He had weathered many things over his years in uniform but one bad decision had cost him dearly. A gang member with a chip on his shoulder had pushed his luck – and Mark’s patience – too far. The gang member had lost some teeth and Mark had lost his job. Even though the work he did now as a private eye and security consultant paid well, she knew his heart wasn’t in it. He had told her once that he would always regret his decision that day; he had been wrong and he had paid a hell of a price.
But if he was right about the current situation then maybe he was the right person to be around.
She took a sip. ‘When do you want to leave?’ she asked, putting her cup down.
‘As soon as we’re done here,’ Rob replied. He took a mouthful of tea, swallowed, and sucked his teeth. He looked pensive. ‘I think the sooner we get going the better, my girl.’
Sandy smiled inwardly at his use of her pet name. ‘Have you got enough pills?’ she asked. ‘Do you think we should stop at the pharmacy on the way?’ Like her, he took pills daily for his cholesterol.
Rob gave a slow nod. ‘Probably. I’ve got a couple of weeks’ worth, but just in case, I guess. What about you?’
Early Warning (Book 1): Martial Law Page 2