Killswitch Chronicles- The Complete Anthology

by G. R. Carter

  That got the Applied Science staff’s attention. All the men and women representing the department taught the hands-on practical disciplines now at the core of Old Main College. Agriculture, Construction Management, Industrial Design and a few other majors formed the backbone of her ten-year plan. Julia recruited the top minds in those disciplines willing to come out to this remote place and help her build something good. Old Main was surrounded by some of the best farm ground in the world, so that helped her Agriculture emphasis. The fact that she was serious about the practical side was an attraction to others.

  House fires were deadly serious to construction types, especially when there was no power. Julia could see their concern, trying to figure out where the Fire Department might be. If their thought process followed hers, they were wondering who might help if fire broke out on campus.

  “As you probably know, we are nearing lunchtime, and we have a group of young people who still haven’t eaten breakfast. I’m sure many of you haven’t either.

  “Ruth,” Julia said to the Director of Campus Food Services, “we are all at your disposal to help get food prepared for a lunch. What can we do to help?”

  Julia heard the groans from staff used to having lunch delivered to their offices. She could just imagine the thoughts in their heads: I have an advanced degree, and I’m supposed to be cafeteria staff?

  “I want to remind everyone that the students are why we are here, not the other way around,” Julia scolded. “Ruth how are we set for food?”

  “Well, we can feed everyone a regular menu today of ration bars today and tomorrow. Then we’ll have to start getting a little creative after that. Our Monday morning supply truck still hasn’t showed up. And obviously I can’t call to see what time it will get here,” Ruth Alvarez replied.

  Ruth served at the college for thirteen years. Eight of those years she served as an employee of the College, and five as an employee of Facility Food Service, a huge company that outsourced cafeteria service for thousands of colleges and businesses nationwide.

  Julia considered Ruth’s reply for a moment, and then found herself stuttering for her next questions. Her eyes found Dr. Andrew Keen, the Dean of the College of Agriculture. Keen was a fraternity brother of her husband and an expert in the impact of Just in Time inventory systems on the supply chain of the country. He was the type that would warn everyone who knew him about the dangers of the centralized food systems.

  “There is a theory referred to as “nine meals from chaos,” Keen said. “If there were ever a disruption in the food supply of America, all it would take is about three days, or approximately nine meals, for the fabric of society to break down. Very few American households hold more than a day or two of food in their cabinets or refrigerators. If the store shelves, or the restaurants, ran out of food because of a disruption, what will people do? Of course, everyone thought that was all theoretical. Besides buying a few extra cans of corn or beans for the pantry, even I did little to prepare for a situation such as this.”

  Now Julia and Andrew Keen both had that same empty pit in the bottom of their stomach. What if the food supply truck didn’t get here today? Or tomorrow? Julia hadn’t anticipated such a grim answer from Ruth. She mentally kicked herself for asking a question in public that she didn’t already know the answer to.

  Julia needed to say something before everyone else sensed something was wrong, “Ruth, I’m sorry. I guess I was expecting us to have a bit more food than that on hand.”

  “I’m sorry, President Ruff. But since FFS, our supply company, took over, they don’t like to have more inventory than absolutely necessary. We run a skeleton staff and reduced menu on the weekends, and then get our truck on Monday just as we’re running out. We always have plenty for Monday, and then a new batch of menu items on Tuesday. Helps keep everything fresh,” Ruth assured her. “I'm sure the truck will be here any minute. The central warehouse knows we can’t get by without it.”

  “Where is that central warehouse located?” Andrew Keen asked.

  “I believe the main warehouse is in Indianapolis. They bring in the bulk shipments to the main hub over the weekend for distribution and then ship it out on Mondays,” Ruth replied.

  Julia and Andrew met again in a glance. Oh my Lord, what now?

  A deeper fear began to well up inside Julia. As a Senator, she had served on an obscure committee on cyber–attack and electromagnetic pulse weapons and their impact on the power grid. The Solar Storms made that fear a reality, but never as an all–encompassing shutdown that was originally feared. The Storms simply made things more difficult, but Grapevine was supposed to handle those.

  All the symptoms and signs of a total grid collapse were here now. No cell phones, no power anywhere, and no contact from authorities. The only thing that didn’t match an EMP attack was that cars were still operating. Well, some cars. None of their electric campus cars were working; they wouldn’t even boot up, according to Gary’s staff. All College vehicles were mandated by federal law to be electric now, with the only exception being maintenance vehicles. Gary and Julia kept several old diesel trucks hidden from the official inventory lists. Gary insisted that these were the only ones that could do the heavy work needed. They were stored out at the College farms, with the red hawk college logos and campus ID numbers removed.

  Julia had to figure out how to get some more food for her students. What caused this could be figured out and debated later. But instinct told her they must move quickly.

  “Ruth, what happens when we need some extra food? Like if we’re doing tests on contents for the ration bars? Or if we mistakenly run short or need something for a special occasion?” Julia asked.

  Ruth seemed a little put off by the question, as though she might in some way miscalculate the needs for the week.

  But luckily for Julia, she answered anyway. “Occasionally, we’ll go downtown to Baker’s Supply. That’s who we used to order everything from before we contracted with FFS. They still have some restaurant customers here in town allowed to prepare fresh food. And that’s where our research department gets ingredients for rat bar research. So they keep quite a bit on hand. They were big boosters of our Athletic Department at one time. We still try to support them with what little we can.”

  Julia hesitated for a moment; she was still learning mistakes the previous administration blundered through. That was five years ago. “Ruth, I’m going to give you a blank purchase order. Will they take those there? I want you to tell Baker’s that they are now our sole supplier again, and that we will be terminating our contract with FFS. Don’t worry, you will keep your job, but as an employee of this College again.”

  Ruth’s jaw dropped, and it took a moment for her to regain her composure.

  “Gary, please take whatever staff you need and retrieve the trucks from the farms. I need you back here with me after that, but take the football team with you. I’m sorry, Coach is that ok with you?” Julia said as she looked over at Parker Moseley, the veteran coach of the Old Main College Red Hawks football team.

  “Of course, Madame President, we would be happy to be of service,” Moseley replied.

  “Gather the men and meet back here ASAP,” Moseley said to the three burly team captains always accompanying him, and they quickly moved off.

  Ruth regained her composure and now started with questions. “Are you sure we can do that, Julia?” Ruth dropped all formality now. “It took a year for that contract with FFS to be negotiated. Even the Board of Trustees had to approve it.”

  “I understand your concern, Ruth,” Julia assured her, “but I have the backing of the Board in matters of pressing concern, and am authorized to act under the emergency action provision placed in the Old Main College constitution when I became President. This qualifies, and if need be we’ll have the discussion with the Board later. In the meantime, I implore you to move quickly. Get to Baker’s, and buy everything you can to feed these kids and the staff. Name a person to be in charge here for
the preparation of the meal for the day. We’re going to save the ration bars we have on hand. Let’s cook, but keep it to a limited menu. What’s one thing that we can make a lot of and will that make our supplies last?”

  “Pasta, that always works,” Ruth’s tone softened. “I’ll get down to Baker’s right now and start the process. Coach, will you meet me down there with your guys?”

  “You got it, Ruth,” Coach Moseley replied, at once eager to help with something clearly important to his boss.

  “All right, everyone,” Julia projected in her power voice again, “we have some tasks to accomplish. Ruth’s staff is in charge of our meal preparations, and for the next few hours we’re all working for them. Unless Gary has a pressing need for you, let’s get to work.”

  As staff members filed into the Student Union kitchen or out the door with Gary’s Facilities staff, Julia made a mental note of who seemed likely to bolt for home as soon as no one was looking. She had to get some of them home as soon as possible to check on families. Would they come back to work tomorrow if the power was still out? Some definitely would. She knew she could count on most the Applied Science staff at least.

  Julia prepared to walk into the kitchen to help when the Chief of Campus Police approached. The look on his face told her what she already knew was happening.

  “That settles it,” she said to the Chief before he uttered a word. “We’re going to have to plan for a long outage. Tell your men to gather here as quickly as possible, and bring whatever firearms they have, personal or professional. Do any of them have families?”

  “A couple do, Madame President. And I do, too,” Chief Danny Cable replied.

  “I know, Chief. If you want to bring them here, you’re more than welcome. I have to tell you, Chief, this is a small town, but I’m afraid that a family alone is going to be in a difficult spot in a few days. I know that your professionalism won’t allow you to abandon these kids on campus,” Julia said to him, half assuring and half imploring.

  “I will do my duty, just like I know you will. I’ll talk to my wife about it as soon as I get the men gathered and into a rotation. I’ve got four full-timers, and then we’ve got the Student Rangers. You know, the kids who volunteer to help patrol campus for us. I’ve got nineteen trained,” Chief Cable explained.

  “That’s great, Chief,” Julia said. “Do what you need to do to organize them how you see fit. Just please keep me posted. Your office is already here in the Union, right? Is it ok if I stop by in a couple of hours to get an update? I’ll have people asking and I want to make sure I can support your plans.”

  Should I be honest with what I believe is going on? No, better to keep everyone from panicking. Besides, the students needed their help.

  As the Chief hurried away, Julia had one more important conversation. Rebekah hung back, wanting to speak not just as daughter to mom, but also as Head Resident Assistant to College President.

  Julia began first: “I’m not even going to ask if the students are informed and organized in shifts. I already know that’s all done. I have complete faith in you.”

  “You better, since you trained me, right?” Rebekah smiled. “'Failure of the troops means failure of command,' I think I heard someone say a million times.” The smile on the younger woman’s face faded. “It’s bad, isn’t it, Mom? Not like ‘what a pain' bad but end of the world as we know it bad?”

  Julia tried to reassure her. “I don’t think we can declare the end of times just yet, beloved daughter. But yes, I do believe this is probably more than just a run-of-the-mill power outage. I hope with all my heart I’ll be reprimanded by the Board for overreacting and the faculty will talk about how I’m a conspiracy nut not worthy of being in higher education! But every instinct I have tells me that we have to move quickly, or this is going to get really bad for our students. Remember those discussions that Dad and I used to have with you about how to survive at the farm without outside help? I’m afraid those discussions just went beyond hypothetical.”

  Julia and Rebekah stared at each other for a moment. They looked at each other as mother and daughter, leader and subordinate, maybe even as best friends.

  “Bek, I need you to go out to the farm and tell Dad I believe this is a complete grid-down situation. He’ll understand what that means. I’ll explain it all to you, too, when you get back. I can’t leave this building or else every other staff member will fade away. I’ve got to stay here, maybe for days. But you’ve got your RAs all set with the schedule, so you can sneak away for a couple hours.

  “I need you to go right now. And tell him exactly what I said, 'complete grid down situation.' I bet the rest of the family at the farm by now so there’s no one else here in town to worry about. Gather my personal items and a couple changes of clothes for me. Tell Dad I’ll try my best to keep him posted. Tell him to think about bringing in the church family and our cousins and telling them what I think is happening. OK? Please be careful. By tonight, you probably won’t want to be on the road alone, so don’t hang around the house even though you’ll want to. Dad’s going to understand perfectly.”

  As Rebekah nodded and began to hurry away, Julia stopped her one more time.

  “Bek, ask Dad to grab two pistols out of the safe. One for you and one me.”

  Shelby County

  The Day of the Great Reset

  He’d remember later there were no background noises that day.

  Even in rural America, the sounds of the modern world hummed ever present. The blanket of silence that morning allowed Phil Hamilton to hear the staccato pop of a tractor motor off in the distance. Curious as any farmer about the actions of a neighbor, he stepped out of the shed door to see Bob Ford’s antique John Deere 4020 tractor coming down the blacktop road that ran in front of Schoolhouse Hill, the name the Hamiltons called their home farm; family legend was a rural school building sat on the back slopes by the creek in a simpler time. Phil’s wife Anna liked the name, so it stuck.

  As Phil tried to figure out why Bob would endure the trek with a vehicle barely making twenty miles an hour instead of his luxurious new truck, he noticed the tractor pulled a hay rack with Delbert Kuhn and three of his Shelby County Cooperative members seated aboard. They’d all become friends since starting the co-op to exchange ideas and support Phil’s ideas for building local fuel supplies.

  The tractor pulled into the gravel driveway leading up to the house, and Phil spoke up immediately to razz the Wizards. “I knew you were tight with a dollar, but this is real redneck public transportation. Bob, Delbert will be complaining about the cold pretty soon, you’ll have to get some kind of shelter built up there,” Phil quipped, happy to get a friendly jab in.

  “Not today, Founding Farmer, we got major problems,” Delbert said as he jumped off the wagon. Though his age said otherwise, Delbert could still move as smooth as men half his years. Looks of concern creased each visitor’s face as they formed a semi–circle around Phil.

  “I think you better call your brains out here. That is, I hope she’s home and not at the hospital,” Bob said, using the grandfather voice Phil only rarely heard.

  “She’s not here, Bob. She had a twelve-hour shift at the hospital, but she ought to be home in a couple of hours. I can try to call her again if we really need her. Phone's been down all morning, but she’ll probably get home a little early today,” Phil said. Suddenly, his stomach dropped. What in God’s name was going on?

  “You can bet she’s busy. The phones aren’t working, electricity is out everywhere, and nothing but old cars and tractors will start. Anything run by a computer seems to be shut down,” one of the Cooperative members interjected.

  Phil thought for a moment, unsure of what to do next. “Let me tell the boys. We’ll get in my truck and head in to town. I know the War Wagon will start,” Phil nodded over to ancient pickup truck. The quarter panels were rusting through a second batch of welded patches, but the rebuilt engine and drivetrain were reliable enough. “You all are w
elcome to ride along, unless you want to stay on the Bob Ford Express there.”

  *****

  On the trip to the hospital, Phil and the Wizards sat in the front seat, with the kids and Delbert’s neighbor Trace Watson sitting in the back of the truck. The conversation was what to do next, just in case the power wasn’t coming back on soon.

  “If the Grid has completely failed, we got to act quick.”

  “Whatta you got in mind?” Delbert asked.

  While Phil was thinking, Bob chimed in. “Can’t imagine this will last too long. The other blackouts didn’t, so let’s not get too crazy.”

  “This one might be different,” Phil replied over the noise of the wind blowing into the windows. “It’s been comin’ for a while. Surprised the Grid held out this long.”

  “Come on Phil, you been preachin’ that for years.”

  “Broke clock is right twice a day,” Delbert added. “This might be the hour our Founding Farmer got it right. Got to admit, this time feels different.”

  “Look guys, I’m not saying the whole country is blacked out,” Phil said. “But if our area is down, nobody is coming to save us. We’re going to have to be ready to survive on our own. Maybe a few days, maybe a few weeks. Who knows for sure? We can’t take that chance.”

  “All those trillions spent on infrastructure, my tax dollars at work, and not a dime spent here where I live,” Delbert moaned.

  Phil didn’t bother to agree. He was trying to build his to do list. “Food, water, fuel…”

  “We’ve got the refinery almost done,” Bob said.

  “Three years is a lot of work. Could we get that lucky to be done just in time to need it?” Phil laughed.

  “Always get lucky when you work hard,” Delbert said.

  Phil didn’t argue, it wouldn’t have done any good. The Wizards had rallied around his idea of creating a cooperative fuel source for Shelby County. They’d received permission from the previous owners of the facility to modify some of the machinery to produce biodiesel instead of ethanol. But just last month, after another change of ownership due to bankruptcy of the shell corporation, the cooperative had received a demand letter to stop work. That didn’t seem very lucky to Phil, too much hard work had been invested to waste.