by D A Carey
“We done got all the food from the empty houses close around you.”
“Yeah, well, maybe we’ll have to get some from the houses that ain’t empty then,” Big Jim said ominously. “Besides, that old ’70 Mustang of mine starts and runs.”
“Good! We can take that.”
“That ain’t enough. There’s an old man not far from here who’s got a ’64 Ford truck he babies and takes to car shows. If my Mustang runs, then his truck should too. I want it.”
“What if he don’t want to part with it?”
“He’ll part with it. Let’s get enough food and supplies together for the trip. Then we’ll go get the truck.”
“Trip? Where we going?”
“Turk-town, over west of here on the south side of Medina Lake. This is exactly the situation I bought into that for.”
“I thought you bought into it for the huge profits you’d make with Dave Cavanaugh.”
“Well, now it’s for this, and that’s all anyone has to know.”
* * *
“No, I don’t want to sell my truck. How did you even know I had a truck that would run?”
“Mr. Baker,” Big Jim said, leaning in close to both intimidate Mr. Baker and prevent him from closing the door, “I want the truck, and I don’t aim to leave without it. I have cash, and I’m willing to pay. But I’ll have the truck one way or the other.”
“I want you off my property, and I’ll call the law as soon as the power comes back on.” Mr. Baker was a Vietnam veteran who didn’t want to be bullied by Jim just because he was big and could. He tried to shut the door, and Big Jim shouldered his way in, followed by Clyde.
“Dammit, Mr. Baker!” Big Jim bellowed. “Why’d you have to make this hard? It’s only an old truck.”
“It’s my old truck, and when a man can’t do what he wants with his own stuff, then this country really has gone to hell.” As he spoke, Mr. Baker reached into a drawer in the end table beside the couch.
Big Jim saw the butt of a handgun as the end table drawer opened and rushed Mr. Baker. He grabbed him by the shirt with one massive paw and chopped at the old man’s forearm with the other. The small revolver fell to the floor. In a fit of rage, he hit the old man with a massive right cross. The old man’s eyes glazed over, and his frail body was thrown back violently, his head crashing into the coffee table.
“Damn! You done went and killed him,” Clyde said, observing the unnatural angle of the old man’s head and neck.
“Check him out. See if he has a pulse,” Big Jim said, trying to hide the fact he was breathing fast and a little scared. For all the bad things he’d done in his life, he’d never killed a man until now. Maybe the old man was right and the country truly had gone to hell. “Clyde, find the old man’s keys. Then let’s load up the truck with anything he has of use.”
Clyde was already snooping around. The old man’s death hadn’t fazed him a bit, and he hardly spent ten seconds checking his pulse while Big Jim stood staring at the body. “Woo doggie! Wouldja look at this? That old man must have been a prepper or something. He has tons of food, camping gear, and guns.”
“Load them all up and let’s get out of here.”
“It will take a while to bust into this gun safe.”
“We’ll just walk it out and tip it in the bed. I want to get out of here and burn this place down.”
“Why burn it? The old man is dead. He ain’t gonna tell no one.”
“What if the lights do come back on and someone saw us?”
“Boss, he was right. The country has gone to hell. The lights ain’t coming back on. This is our kind of world now. You can create your little ranch kingdom, and the weak people better fall in line or end up like that old man.”
“Clyde, you’re right, but burn it anyways.”
Big Jim chose to drive the old man’s truck with all the stuff. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Clyde; it was that he felt like Clyde was right and this was his world. He had killed a man for this stuff, and he wanted to enjoy the spoils. Besides, he didn’t trust Clyde that much.
Clyde followed behind in Big Jim’s hotrod, a plume of smoke rising behind them.
<< Vince >>
The next morning, Vince called them all together in Liz’s large great room. The huge picture windows were blacked out the best they could do with curtains, sheets, and furniture.
“Okay, we’re going to have some big decisions to make soon, and it’s probably best to get everything on the table and talk it through.”
“What do you mean big decisions?” Ava screeched. “Don’t we just wait until the lights come back on then call the police and give them our report?”
Liz moved closer to Ava and put her arm around her. Ava was a young California city girl and totally unprepared for all this. Even though Liz was a country girl from Kentucky, she reflected on how unprepared she would have been had she not come out of Chicago with Vince last year and seen and done all she did. “Ava, honey, let’s listen to Vince. I suspect he thinks the lights won’t be coming back on anytime soon, and we need to talk about that. It won’t hurt to listen. There’s nowhere to go right now.”
Ava merely nodded and leaned her head on Liz’s shoulder.
“Liz is right,” said Vince. “I don’t think the lights are coming back on anytime soon.”
“That’s okay,” Tyler spoke up. “Liz has a stocked pantry, and she built one of those prepper panic rooms. We can hang out here until the power comes back on. We’re okay. This isn’t the end of the world.”
“Tyler, I think you’re wrong. This is the end of the world as we know it,” Liz said while looking for Vince’s reaction.
“Liz is right. I didn’t want to be the one to have to say this; I don’t think the lights will be coming back on for quite a while.”
“So? We can last quite a while. Liz has lots of food and supplies,” Tyler said, his voice rising.
“Tyler, I hope you’re right. This is my area of expertise, though, and I believe you’re wrong. If I’m wrong and we leave, we end up looking silly and get a lot of exercise. If you’re wrong and we stay, it could cost everyone their lives.”
Tyler snorted. “And I thought we actors were prone to drama.”
Vince shook his head and turned to the window, while many in the group began talking at once. A few lapsed into silence at Vince’s words.
Liz’s neighborhood was known for its wealth and opulence. A week ago, it would have been hard to conceive this place slipping into a Mad Max period of lawlessness that Vince described. Each hour that passed made that option look more realistic.
<< Liz >>
Liz decided to let the others talk among themselves and work out their stress and anxiety. She led Vince to the concealed room in the basement. While he was aware of it and they had gone shooting once while he was in town, he hadn’t taken the time to take a full inventory. She had weapons, food, and survival gear, and a small Faraday cage with some walkie talkies and GPS devices.
“Wow, Liz. This is impressive. I’m proud of you. This sure doesn’t look like the home of some spoiled Hollywood starlet.”
“Don’t sell me short, Vince. I’m still a spoiled Hollywood starlet. But I have to admit that the events last year in Chicago scared me a lot more than I care to admit. Besides, you have a way of getting in a girl’s head.” She winked at the double entendre.
“Well, you’ve done good,” Vince said, choosing to ignore the flirt.
“Don’t forget that I come from a practical farm family.”
“Good, we’re going to need to make some decisions soon. You more than anyone.”
“Why me? We’re all equally involved.”
“Liz, I told you before you’re a leader. People take their cues from you whether you recognize it or not. If you panic, they will. If you’re strong, they will try to be. This won’t be true all the time, but it be will often enough that you need to be aware of it.”
“What do you think we need to do?”
“Ever
ything in my gut tells me we need to go and go now. The problem is that we don’t have a good way to go, and I could be wrong about how bad this is. Getting out of here on foot in a situation like Chicago will be many times worse.”
“Vince,” Liz began hesitantly, staring down at the floor, “could you get out alone if you had to? Would we be holding you back? You have family back east. If the others needed me, or if I chose to stay, could you do it on your own?”
“I won’t do that. If you stay, I’ll stay. We’ve been through this before, and I’ve got your back. We’re friends, and I care about you.”
Liz gave him a big hug that was filled with relief and a bit of desperation. When she broke away from him, her eyes were filled with the determination that Vince remembered from their trip out of Chicago. It made him smile and feel pride in this strong woman yet angry at the same time that he couldn’t protect her from the need to be so strong.
“Let’s go talk to the others,” Liz said.* * *
When Liz had all their attention, she got straight to the point. “I’ve made a decision,” she announced. “I haven’t even told Vince yet because I wanted you all to know this is my decision and my idea. No one talked me into anything.”
There was a hush in the room as they waited for her next words.
“I’m leaving L.A. I believe Vince is right. Last year in Chicago taught me some harsh lessons. I won’t sit here and fort up. There are just too many hungry people living too close together. If I’m wrong, it’s on me. The tabloids can have a field day with my ‘escape from L.A.’ during a short blackout.”
“What about us?” some in the group chorused.
“Each one of you has to decide for yourselves what’s right for you. Remember, I have family back east that I hope to get to. So does Vince. That means we’re going the same way. I trust Vince knows a few ways to keep us safe and find a place to rest along the way. This trip isn’t for everyone. Think it through and talk to me if you want. But understand one thing: I won’t be changing my mind.”
Bill was the first to speak up. “I’ll be going with you this time,” he said grimly. “I missed being there for you last time and have hated myself for that ever since. I couldn’t have forgiven myself if you’d been hurt.”
Liz stepped forward with tears in her eyes. She hugged Bill deeply, making the large man uncomfortable. “Bill, you’re the one man here I won’t allow to come with me. You have a son in Fresno that will need you more than me. I’m the one that could never forgive myself if I allowed your loyalty to me to keep you away from your son. What kind of father would that make you?”
“The kind a boy would be proud of,” Bill murmured.
“I have Vince to protect me. You said yourself that he had skills and training that surpass your own.”
“Yes, that’s true, but he’s weak as a newborn calf right now.” Bill looked toward Vince. “No disrespect, Vince.”
“None taken.” Vince chuckled. “A newborn calf might be stretching it a bit, though. I don’t think we should leave for a day or so. I’ll rest and we’ll only travel by night for a few days and sleep during the day. I’ll be okay.”
“I’ll be joining you too if you’ll have me,” Junior said. “I don’t have family here. I like protecting Ms. Pendleton, and Vince and I work well together. Besides, with both of us going, Bill will feel better about heading north to his son.”
“Okay,” Liz broke in. “The rest can think it through. No rush. As Vince said, we won’t leave for a day or two.”
Pulling Through
Pulling Through
“It is incumbent on every generation to pay its own debts as it goes. A principle which if acted on would save one-half the wars of the world.”
- Thomas Jefferson
<< Dave >>
When Dave got connected to the satellite feed, the damage reports were devastating. Nearly the entire western half of the US was dark. The electronic devastation lessened the closer you got to the Mississippi River. News organizations theorized that it was a nuclear warhead forced to detonate early that saved the eastern half of the U.S. While some experts theorized it could have been a long-range ballistic missile fired from North Korea, Dave doubted that it could have flown that far undetected. Despite the secrecy of their missile tests, he didn’t believe North Korea had the technology to send a missile that far on target and undetected. It was more likely to have been launched from somewhere in the Pacific. While one of the small islands was likely, Dave was more apt to put his money on one of the thousands of oceangoing cargo ships. The question foremost in his mind was why it was forced to launch or detonate early. Had it been allowed to fly only twenty minutes further into U.S. airspace, the damage could have been much more widespread. If this target truly was only the western half of the U.S., then that spoke of a larger, more complex plan.
This might not be over.
Only a few hours later, all of the major U.S. news outlets in the east began reporting on a breaking story that happened at nearly the same time as the EMP strike over the western half of the U.S.
“US forces struck a missile as it emerged from a container ship in the Gulf of Mexico, destroying the ship. Officials have scheduled a White House briefing from an undisclosed secure location later in the day. Most experts speculate that this was part of a coordinated attack. Intelligence sources had leaked information pointing to North Korea and Iran as the most likely culprits. The attack on the eastern half of the US has been thwarted…”
While there were news blackouts between the U.S. and Asia, the talking heads were speculating, teasing sources who claimed to know of ongoing U.S. strategic military strikes around the world in response to the current attacks on the U.S.
The rumors included reports of limited exchanges from presumably subs to both North Korea and Iran. It was also rumored that both the U.S. and Great Britain had responded to a Russian missile launch with nuclear weapons of their own. It was hard to tell what was true and not. The news was scarce and sketchy. It didn’t appear to be a full-out nuclear war because the eastern half of the U.S. was so far safe. These events had citizens scared because people were dying, and many were aware this could only be a drop in the bucket of destruction if the nuclear missile strikes escalated to an all-out World War III.
It was fortunate that the U.S. had stopped the second nuclear EMP attack on the eastern half of the U.S. and launched a counterattack. It could have been much worse, followed by boots on the ground. As it was, the reports coming in from the eastern half of the U.S. were full of panic and misery. The expressways were gridlocked with people fleeing the cities or locations they thought would be missile targets. Most people had no idea where they were going; they only wanted “out.”
The first missile attack was almost stopped by early detection, and while it may have missed its mark, it still exploded close enough to knock out the majority of the western U.S. grid. Early reports indicated that intelligence had some warning of the attack and were stopping cargo ships in the Pacific. As one of the ships was boarded by the U.S. Navy, a missile was preemptively launched. The navy sank the cargo ship, but the damage was done. The western half of the U.S. was dark, with no radio transmissions or news feeds. The only information coming out were some panicked firsthand accounts from people who were able to make it east and satellite pictures of the western cities showing dark cities and raging fires. While the technology was good enough to focus cameras on individual places and people, Dave didn’t have the pull to request that. He had to assume it was full of hundreds of thousands of instances of crime and desperation. The police and National Guard were helpless to do much without their radios, vehicles, and air support.
After the news sank in for most Americans that the second attack and container ship had been sunk in the Gulf of Mexico, many in the U.S. experienced a sense of relief. It didn’t last long. By later in the day, terrorist attacks by the dozens and then hundreds were launched. They appeared to center in the eastern half of the U
.S., but they could have been attacking in the west too for all anyone knew.
<< Levi >>
“It’s unlikely that the terrorist nations could have prepositioned so many assets without the U.S. hearing the chatter. It’s more likely these are either sleeper cells or sympathetic home-grown terrorists who’ve been waiting for this opportunity.”
“I tend to agree with you, Levi. The problem is that right now there is so much chaos and misinformation we can’t be sure of anything. The old flames of internal strife and divide are coming back out. Internal groups are using this as an excuse to settle old grudges.”
“In any event, I don’t think it matters. We can’t afford this conflict in our backyard while planning for a potential invasion or world war.”
“You’re right, though we can’t afford not to deal with it, either. The police and National Guard units have had so many years of sensitivity training and culling out of people who actually cared about the core mission that I worry cleaning up our backyard will consume many months and thousands of resources.”
“Well, good for all the namby pamby politicians. Let them deal with the fallout of the mess they created,” Levi said vehemently.
Dave and Levi were in the operations center of the cavern in SOP-town high in the Colorado mountains, surrounded by friends and coworkers. Dave and Levi didn’t bother with OPSEC because all the people here were friends and community members with full access to the same information and opinions. None of them wanted to leave SOP-town or betray any information. They probably couldn’t have if they wanted to. To their knowledge, nothing electronic worked outside of SOP-town in this part of the U.S., and no area was as safe or well stocked.
“As much as I’d like to agree with you, Levi, we have to think of the bigger picture. Every single troop, asset, or intelligence resource that’s used to put down terrorism in our backyard is a resource that won’t be used to go back into the western half of the U.S. or to prosecute a war in other parts of the world.”