by Pat Riot
“Nothing right?” Rob asked.
“Yeah but the headlights and dome lights came on. Why?” The question came from one of the newer dispatchers.
“Like I said, I don’t know the science behind it. I only know what that class taught and the little bit that I picked up doing my own research. The only thing I can say with any certainty is that things are going to get way worse before they get better.”
“So, what are we going to do then?” Another question from somewhere in the group.
“I don’t know about anyone else, but I know what I’m going to do. I’ll be going home. You guys have to decide what you are going to do on your own. I’m not going to try to order or force anyone to do anything in this situation. Any other questions?”
“If we leave, isn’t that abandoning our post? We could lose our jobs over that, right?” The question came from the same person who asked the previous.
“That’s true. If you leave and an hour from now the power comes back on, yes you could lose your job. But I really don’t think the power is coming back on. Probably for years. But in the end, that’s just my gut feeling on this, and that’s why you need to make your own decision. If you attended that training class think about what was taught. If you haven’t attended that class, ask someone who did. Seriously guys, in my opinion this is a worst-case scenario. I think what happened a little bit ago is going to be the most significant event to happen to humanity in a very long time. Anyone have anything else?”
When no one responded Rob continued, “Okay, since there is nothing else, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I live in Yucaipa. I have about a twenty-five mile walk to get home to my wife and son. I’m going to change out of this uniform, gather my stuff, show whoever decides to stay where all of the emergency supplies are stored, then start walking home.” He looked at his watch and was happy to see it was still working. It was an old school time piece with hands that his grandfather had given him. 12:01 am. “It’s midnight. In thirty minutes I’ll meet everyone back here and we’ll have another quick meeting. In the mean time you all need to decide if you are staying or going.” Rob got down off the chair and started walking towards the building with Jason following. He walked through the propped open door, down the hallway and into the locker room, lighting the way with the emergency flashlight.
Rob opened his locker and started changing out of his uniform into his civilian clothes in the dim light of the cheap flashlight. There was no way he was going to attempt the walk home wearing a uniform that made him look like a cop. He wanted to keep as low a profile as possible during the journey. He quickly changed into a black Carhart jacket, dark gray shirt, and jeans, putting his work shoes back on. He grabbed his car keys, wallet which contained his ID, bank cards, and eighty dollars in cash, and a picture of his wife Monica holding Jackson shortly after she gave birth. It was his favorite picture of them. He stared at the picture for a moment, hoping and praying that they would be safe, then put it into his pocket. He placed the uniform inside the locker, took one last look to make sure there was nothing he should take with him, then closed it before leaving. As he left the locker room he passed by Jason who was also changing. “I’ll be at my truck,” Rob said. He didn’t bother to wait for a response before exiting.
As he walked out of the locker room and down the hallway he was grateful that he took that terrorism class and did his own research. Because of that he was a little more prepared than the average person was going to be. After he realized just how vulnerable modern society was due to its dependence on a fragile power grid he began preparing for a situation like this. Rob wasn’t rich and did not have a lot of money saved up, but he was able to accomplish a lot by budgeting a little money every month to go towards the preparations. Each month he bought a little more of what he decided they needed and soon he had a large amount of supplies stored away. At home he stocked up on extra water and food, had certain survival and camping supplies stored in his garage and shed, and made sure his wife was at least familiar with each firearm he owned. He also made sure he stock piled enough ammunition for a situation like this, for both self-defense and hunting needs.
The hardest part of the preparations was convincing his wife that the threat was real. Monica thought Rob was a little crazy when he first talked to her about it. She thought the chances of an EMP so remote that preparing for one was a waste of money. Rob tried to convince her by explaining to her it was like insurance. You don’t buy homeowners insurance because you know your house is going to burn down. You buy it in case it does burn down. Still, she balked at the idea.
What finally made her agree was a news report that had nothing to do with a solar flare or terror attack. It was a report about California’s vulnerability to a very large earthquake courtesy of the many fault lines running through the state. The scientist that was interviewed said that the state was many years overdue for a massive earthquake that would result in tens of billions of dollars in damage and thousands of deaths and that people needed to be prepared. Rob could see the news report had Monica’s undivided attention especially when the scientist mentioned the Crafton Hills fault zone which ran directly beneath their city. When the report was over, and the channel cut to a commercial, Rob muted the TV, turned to his wife and said, “You know, we wouldn’t just be preparing for an EMP. Anything we do would be preparing for any type of disaster, including an earthquake.” It was enough to convince her and that weekend they sat down and planned out exactly what supplies they would invest in, what would be bought first and what could wait, and where stuff would be stored.
Rob once again left the building through the open back door and walked to the far side of the parking lot to his truck. When he got there he dropped the tailgate before walking around the side and opening the back-passenger side door. Part of his preparations was putting together what a lot of people referred to as a “bug out bag.” The idea was to have seventy-two hours’ worth of supplies in a backpack in case you had to grab it and go. Rob referred to his as a “get home bag” and always had it in his backseat whenever he left home.
From the floor board of the back seat he picked up a large black Eberlestock backpack and a pair of brown Merrell hiking shoes. The pack had cost more than he wanted to spend at the time, but Rob knew they made high quality gear and decided to make sure he got a pack that would hold up under the worst conditions, rather than buy a cheaper pack and have it fall apart when he needed it most.
He took it back to the tailgate where he exchanged his work shoes for the hiking shoes then started to pull out some of the items from inside the backpack. The first thing was a black beanie which he put on. The overnight temperatures in this area could easily get down to the forties and being bald didn’t exactly help keep him warm.
Next, he pulled out three extra magazines for the Springfield XD he carried, along with a box of 100 rounds of Hornady 9mm hollow point ammo. He quickly loaded sixteen rounds into each magazine before putting them aside. They were what the State of California deemed “high capacity” magazines and weren’t exactly legal to possess, but at this point Rob didn’t care. These three would be added to the two ten round magazines that he had whenever he carried the XD as his CCW and would give him sixty-eight readily accessible rounds, plus another in the chamber, to use if he got into a tight spot, which he planned to avoid if at all possible. The sixteen round magazines were for shit hit the fan scenarios, which, Rob decided, the current situation was categorized as. The next item he pulled out was a Kershaw Camp 10. It was basically a small machete with a ten-inch blade. He strapped the sheath to the left shoulder strap of the backpack with the handle pointing down for easy access then looked at his watch. 12:35 am. Time to head back to the patio.
As Rob walked back to the patio he noticed everyone was already present. Once again, he climbed onto the chair. “Has everyone made their decision?” No one responded so he took that as a yes and continued, “Anyone decide they are going to stay?” Fourteen of the twen
ty-two dispatchers raised their hands. “Okay, anyone that is going to try to make it home needs to go get ready to do so. Change out of your uniform if you have any extra clothes, get your personal belongings and anything from your car that you want to take. Remember, you have to carry whatever you take so be smart about what you choose to take and what you leave behind. If you have anything that you can easily carry to use as a weapon to defend yourself with you should probably do so.”
Before Rob could continue a confused voice in the crowd interrupted him, “A weapon? Why would we need a weapon?”
“Think about it. How long has the power been out? About an hour, right? In that time, how many 9-1-1 calls have you taken?” Rob answered his own question, “Zero. That’s not because no one is trying to call 9-1-1. Trust me, more people have tried calling 9-1-1 since the power went out than ever before, but they can’t get through because nothing electronic works anymore. That means you can’t get through either. So, as you’re walking home if someone attacks you what are you going to do? You can’t call 9-1-1, so your best hope is to avoid any human contact if you can and defend yourself if you need to. A weapon will help you do that.” He waited a beat to let his words sink in. “Any other questions?” There were none, so Rob continued, “Those of you who are leaving get ready to go. Those of you who are staying follow me inside and I’ll show you where everything is at.” Rob hopped off the chair and made his way to the building, followed by Jason and the fourteen who decided to stay. He entered the building using the outside stairwell and the broken door that accessed directly into the basement. Using the flashlight, Rob made his way to the shelves that were closest to the interior stairwell doorway and located ten red plastic disaster emergency supply bins and fifteen cases of bottled water. Rob knew the bins would contain food meant to sustain the dispatchers during a prolonged disaster that kept the dispatchers in the building, such as the large earthquake that Californian’s had been expecting for the last couple decades but had yet to happen.
“Everyone take a bin and when those are gone anyone still empty-handed grab a case of water. Take it up to the break room,” Rob instructed. He carried a case of water as he followed the group back upstairs. Once in the breakroom he instructed everyone to put the bins on the tables in the middle of the room then he opened a few and mainly found long shelf-life dehydrated food, but also a few that held protein bars. The labels on the protein bars showed that they had a shelf life of five years and Rob knew they had been replaced about a year prior. “That’s the supplies. There are also a few sleeping cots, more flashlights and batteries, that type of stuff down there. What all of you should do is find any type of container, like these plastic bins, and fill them up with water before the water supply runs out,” he announced to everyone in the room. “Anyone have any other questions?”
“What do you mean when the water supply runs out?”
“The power is out,” Rob said. “Once the pressure in the water pipes is gone, there will be no more running water. The water company won’t be able to keep pumping more water into the water mains. And, this building is at the top of this hill, so water pressure is going to drop here before any of the surrounding neighborhoods. Any other questions?” When no one answered he turned and walked outside to the back patio where he found five of the eight dispatchers that had elected to make the hike home.
“Where is everyone else?” Rob asked.
“Getting stuff from their cars,” Rachel replied.
“Let them know, and you guys too, there are some emergency supplies in the breakroom. Go get some of the protein bars and a few bottles of water and get ready to go. I’ll give everyone 30 more minutes to be ready, then we leave.”
Rob walked back to his truck to finish his own preparations. From the backpack he pulled out a Safariland holster and double magazine holder, undid his belt, slid the holster onto his right side and the magazine holder onto his left side before buckling his belt back up. He walked to the driver door of the truck and sat in the driver seat. On a whim he pulled out his keys and tried to start it. Nothing. Not that he really expected it to start, but it was still a disappointment.
He reached into his center console and picked up his Springfield XD. Attached to the rails in front of the trigger guard was a TLR-1 weapon light. It allowed him access to light while holding his gun by simply moving his finger slightly, that way he could keep a two-handed grip on the gun for better accuracy. I wish I could have gotten one of those new Gen 5 Glock 19’s. This damn commie state and their handgun roster. Oh well, at least I have a gun, he thought to himself as he holstered the gun and pulled out the miniature first aid pack that was next to the gun. In it was a face shield for CPR and a tourniquet that he would add to his larger first aid kit that was in his backpack. He also pulled out the extra ten-round magazine and placed that in his pant pocket. The last items he pulled out were a folding Gerber knife in a nylon belt holder and a pair of black Oakley sunglasses. He planned to do most of his traveling at night but the glasses could be useful.
He got out of the truck and went back around to the tailgate. He once again undid his belt, this time placing the Gerber knife on his left side just behind the magazine holder before re-buckling the belt. He drew his XD from the holster, hit the magazine release with his thumb to drop the ten-round magazine out of it, replaced it with one of the sixteen-round magazines, holstered the weapon, placed the two additional sixteen-round magazines into the magazine holder on his belt, and put the extra ten-round magazine into his pocket next to the one he obtained from the center console of the truck. He put the CPR mask and tourniquet into the first aid pack inside his backpack and the sunglasses into one of the side pouches, then pulled out a plastic canteen which had a metal holder that also doubled as a small tin pot and a refillable water pouch that had a hose bib at the top he could clip to his shoulder strap and easily drink water out of while on the go.
Rob left everything except the canteen and water pouch and walked back into the large building. He entered the break room where the fourteen dispatchers who were staying were gathered and went over to the sink to fill both the canteen and water pouch with water. After both were full he shut off the water, turned, and addressed everyone in the room. “The water pressure is already dropping, so you guys better get on top of filling those plastic bins.” He took his building keys out of his pocket and handed them to the person standing closest to him, “Those keys open every door in this building, including the radio tech area on the other side. Other than that, if anybody has any questions, this is your last chance to ask, I’ll be leaving in a few minutes.”
At first no one said anything, then he heard, “Take care Rob, good luck getting home. I hope you’re wrong about all this.”
“Me too,” Rob replied. “Trust me, I hope I walk out that gate then the lights turn on and I can turn around and walk right back in.” He took a deep breath. “Good luck to you guys too. I think this will be the last time I ever see any of you. You guys are good dispatchers and it was a pleasure working with and supervising all of you. Take care of each other and yourselves.” Rob took a moment to give everyone a hug, then turned and left the building before he got any more emotional.
As he walked through the parking lot he passed the patio and told everyone, “If anybody needs to say goodbye to anyone, go do so now. Everyone is in the break room. Then meet me at my truck in fifteen minutes.” All eight including Jason walked towards the building.
When Rob arrived back at his truck he placed the water pouch into its specially designed pouch inside the Eberlestock backpack, snaked the hose through the opening in the top of the backpack and clipped the bib to the top of the right shoulder strap. The canteen he stowed next to his Kershaw Siege. The Siege was a hatchet or tomahawk that could also be used as a pry bar. Next, he went back into the cab of his truck and took out his vehicle registration and looked through the paperwork that was in the glove box. Anything he found that had any identifying information, especially hi
s address, Rob removed. He took the paperwork over to the smoking area that had been set up for the few dispatchers who smoked and used the large ash tray to burn the papers. There’s a good chance this place will be overrun by some bad people at some point in the future. Don’t need them trying to track me down trying to take out some crazy revenge on people who work in Law Enforcement, Rob thought to himself.
Once the papers were ashes, Rob walked back to his truck while he thought about anything he was carrying that could be left behind. He had a twenty-five-mile hike, part of it through a canyon and hills, and he wanted to cut as much weight as possible. Rob took out his non-functioning cell phone, removed the microSD card that contained all the pictures that were on the phone, and tossed it into the bed of the truck. He put the card into his coin pocket of his pants. I’ll probably never be able to get the pictures from it, but it doesn’t weigh anything. Maybe someday when I’m old I’ll be able to get the pictures off it.
He took out his keys, took the house key off the ring and put it into his coin pocket next to the microSD card, then tossed the rest of the keys into the bed of the truck. The last thing he left was the emergency flashlight he was still carrying around in his pocket. He had his own flashlight made by Surefire. He intentionally bought a model that was battery powered, knowing that if the power went out he wouldn’t be able to charge it, and included extra batteries in his backpack. In his experience Surefire made some of the most durable and reliable flashlights one could buy. He couldn’t think of anything else that could be left behind so he sat on the tailgate of the truck, leaned back against his backpack and stared at the sky while he waited for everyone that was leaving to come back out.