by Kip Nelson
And what had he learned?
For one thing, people as a whole were frightened. They would lose their heads. Without anything to hold them together, such as society, chaos would reign. Everyone would be out to save themselves, and while this would lead some to form alliances, they would be fraught, and often closed, alliances. Tribes would form again, and people would begin warring with each other for supplies. Without anyone to enforce the law the country would turn wild. Everyone would begin realizing there were no consequences for their actions. Anyone could get away with anything, and that was usually a recipe for the strongest to take control.
It wasn't the way it should have been, but all signs pointed to things going that way.
Tillman hoped Dan and his family could get to a shelter before that happened. Right now the apocalyptic world was in its embryonic stages. People still were scared, processing everything that had happened. When they finally regained their senses, the violence would start. Fights would break out. Nothing would be the same anymore. There was no ownership. No locks. People could walk anywhere freely, and since money quickly would lose all its meaning, there was so much property that would mean nothing.
As he limped along, Tillman kept an eye and an ear out for anyone who might need help, or who might be a threat. In the distance he could hear people running and screaming, trying to find a safe place. Tillman's throat ran dry. He wished he had brought his gun with him, but it was still in the office at the Game Changer. He had to get back there. Hopefully, Greg and Penelope hadn't killed each other yet.
Tillman followed the road. Someone ran out and tried getting their car to start, but it wouldn't work. Tillman kept to the shadows, afraid that in a crazed and panicked state people would lash out at anyone. Tillman knew he had the skills to emerge victorious in most kinds of hand-to-hand combat, but his skills were limited by his injured ankle, and the best way to stay alive was to avoid fighting.
Usually the night sky would be lit up by neon, the electric lights fizzing overhead, but the city was silent, rendered mute. Most of the doors to the shops were closed. The people inside probably were afraid of looters. Tillman couldn't blame them. They most likely were sitting behind their doors now, guns pointed at the entrance, just waiting for someone to tempt them to shoot.
But there were only a finite number of bullets left in the world. Eventually, someone would break in. It almost broke Tillman's heart to think of the pain that was going to swallow the world. He'd seen and read about it a hundred times before, and there didn't seem any way to avoid it. All that was needed to stop it was one rational message to spread across the land and get everyone's attention, but now there was no way to get that message out. People were isolated after having been brought together in a world of instant communication.
Tillman smiled to himself, for he was reminded of a Bible story his mother used to read to him. Tillman never had had much use for religion, much to his mother's chagrin, but many of the stories had stuck with him. The Tower of Babel had been a glorious construction by men who were not hampered by different languages. They were able to work together, and as a species they managed to build the Tower to meet their maker and threaten to cross the threshold to Heaven.
But God did not like this, for the Old Testament God wanted to remain separate from those he had created. Summoning his army of angels, he shattered the Tower of Babel, and cast the humans across the globe, creating new languages for each new region so they never could work together and approach His sanctuary again.
Perhaps there was more truth to the story than Tillman cared to admit, and this was a real life re-enactment of the story. He looked up to the sky but didn't want to believe there was a being so great and so vast that he could inflict such destruction so easily.
In the grand scheme of things it didn't matter what had caused the EMP. It wasn't as though it could be fixed or taken back. The effects were irreversible. There was no going back. This was the world now.
All that mattered was how humanity faced its new reality, and what it did to build a new world. Sadly, Tillman's heart was not filled with hope. Time and time again humanity had shown itself incapable of doing what was best for itself. It seemed to him there was a trigger in the minds of humans that always went back to a dark and violent place. For all the advancements humanity had made with technology and intelligence they still were the same old savage beings that had roamed the world in small tribes, and that is the nature they would revert to now.
In some ways, Tillman was envious of the people who had died. They were free of the burden of life and didn't have to worry about survival, or the fear of living. Tillman always had had a unique relationship with life. He enjoyed what he did, but so much of his life was spent in a virtual world that sometimes it was difficult to see where the lines blurred. What really mattered? Was it his family, who he hadn't spoken to in years, or the fictional worlds he inhabited that enabled him to make a living?
All of a sudden he realized that everything he knew was gone. There would be no more video games, no more championships, and no more conventions. His biggest hobby, his biggest passion had been ripped away from him. So many happy memories revolved around games. He never would have any again. His identity as a gamer was no more. He would have to find a new identity, a new way to define himself.
Hopefully it wouldn't be too difficult since Tillman always had seen himself as a man of many passions. He always had been interested in anything he could get his hands on and had amassed a wealth of skills and knowledge over the course of his life. He was in a better position to survive than most, as most people rarely looked beyond their own small patch of life, unaware of the dangers that were present in the world. However, Tillman also knew how dangerous the world was, how unpredictable, and that anything could snuff out his life. Being prepared only ensured a better chance of survival, it did not guarantee it.
As if to illustrate the point, Tillman heard a barrage of noise to the right of him but did not have time to react. The door to a store was flung open and a crazed man ran out. His eyes were wide and bloodshot. His hair was unkempt. He stank of alcohol. Before Tillman could do anything, the man grabbed him. The smell of whiskey filled the air around him.
“It's finally happened! It's finally happened! We're all free!” the man said, then threw his head back and laughed gleefully. Tillman couldn't believe anyone would be happy about the current state of the world. But some people had been downtrodden for so long they wanted to see everything implode just so it would give them a better chance to live.
Tillman wanted to shake sense into the man and tell him everything had changed, that he should get himself somewhere safe, but the man let go of Tillman and skipped away, singing a song, laughing with joy. Tillman looked back with frustration, annoyed that anyone could be happy. Did they not realize what was happening? Could they not fathom that the world was burning?
Tillman continued on his way, taking more care as he went. His ankle still was hurting him, but he was determined not to rest until he made it back to the store.
It meant he had to go back near the airport, though, a place of death and destruction. The smart thing would have been to stay away from the populated areas. Soon enough people would realize what they needed to do to survive and they would start fighting each other for food. The outskirts of the city would be the best place to go, leading towards the forest, with freshwater rivers. It might even be an idea to get to a boat and sail to an island, get away from it all in every sense of the word.
That was if he made it that far.
Death stalked him at every moment.
Tillman's throat became so dry that he knew he couldn't go on any longer unless he had a drink, and it was just about the only thing that was missing from his pack. He didn't want to go into any of the stores in case he was mistaken for a villain, but the thirst scorched his throat and he knew he couldn't go on.
So, when he came across a store that looked quiet enough, he decided to go in. Wh
en he opened the door, he dived back just in case a gunshot blasted toward him, but everything was quiet. The store was dark. Tillman crept in slowly, his eyes searching furtively through the darkness. He couldn't hear the sound of anyone, so he thought perhaps he had gotten lucky and he was alone. It was still night time. Some people might even still be asleep, although how anyone could stay asleep after planes had fallen from the sky he didn't know.
He made his way to the drinks cooler, which obviously was not keeping drinks cool any longer, and pulled out a few bottles of water, stuffing them into his bag. Soon enough this place would be ransacked, so it was important for him to stock up on as much food as possible. He moved among the shelves, picking up cans of food, biscuits, and as much non-perishable stuff as he could find. He needed things that were going to last as long as possible. Then he saw two eyes behind the counter gleaming by the light of the moon.
Tillman froze. He wasn't sure what to do. Technically he was breaking the law, but was there really any law anymore?
He opened his hands and approached the counter. As he drew closer he heard the girl whimper.
“It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you,” Tillman said in as calm a voice as he possibly could muster. There were going to be two reasons for violence in this world. One, because people were savage and wanted to get as much as they could, or two, because they were scared. Anger and fear were going to be the two primary emotions driving this new world.
“I promise you,” Tillman continued, “I'm only here to get some water and food. I'm Tillman. What's your name?” he asked, hoping to get the girl talking.
“Tysha,” she said, sobbing and whimpering.
“Okay, Tysha. Do you know what's going on?” he asked. She shook her head. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness since he had been away from the fire, and he was able to make out her form. Tillman continued walking until he was standing at the counter.
“Something's happened and the world has changed. The electricity doesn't work, and it's not going to come back anytime soon.”
“I was just at work here, on the closing shift. I tried calling people but my phone is dead,” she said.
“I know. You're going to need to get somewhere safe. I know it's scary, but if you have family or friends you should try finding them. Are you hurt?” Tillman asked. Tysha shook her head.
“Okay, that's good. Tysha, do you own this store?”
“No, I just work here,” she said.
“Right. I don't want to alarm you, but I'm worried that soon people are going to realize that they need food and water, and stores like this are going to be prime targets. When enough people realize this there are going to be fights, and I don't want you to be in the middle of it. I think you probably should get some food and water and make your way somewhere safe, because this place won't stay safe for long.”
“Okay, mister,” she said, but she showed no sign of moving.
“Tysha, listen to me, I know that you don't understand everything that's happening yet, but you need to move. If you sit still you're not going to get anywhere, and you're not going to be safe. Do you think you can stand up?” he asked.
She nodded, although it took her a long time to actually get to her feet. She was clutching her cell phone as though it was a precious thing, and evidently hadn't come to terms with it being just a useless hunk of metal now. Slowly, she moved from beyond the counter and went to the shelves, picking up a few items of food. Tillman went behind the counter and got her a bag so she could carry more. It saddened him to think that most people in the country would be like her, dazed and confused, not making the necessary preparations to ensure their survival.
“What about the register?” she said, suddenly panicked.
“It doesn't matter anymore, Tysha. Money doesn't matter. All that matters is keeping yourself safe. Go and get to your family while the streets are still empty,” he said. Tysha nodded and then staggered out of the door once she had filled her bag.
Tillman followed her, and watched as she walked off in the direction he just had come from. He wondered if he should do more for these people, act as a shepherd for them, but then he decided he had enough to worry about without having to take care of everyone. That wasn't his job. He'd help as many people as he could, but they weren't going to sway him from his purpose, or from getting to the people that meant the most to him.
With that, he continued on his way to the Game Changer.
Chapter Six
Nothing eventful happened as he reached the store, and for this he was glad. He thought back to the conversation he'd had with Greg and Penelope. They were talking about the solar flare that obviously had seared the world. Even though people had known about it, none of them had taken it seriously. Had the scientists? Tillman wondered if this was another governmental blunder. He could well imagine scientific advisers taking their concerns to the government, only to be rebuffed by the President and his staff. It made Tillman laugh to think of him as so panicked. After all the damage the man had done to the country it seemed only fitting that he should be suffering along with the rest of them.
Tillman's ankle was beginning to hurt more and more. He was glad he was close to the store now, and hopefully Greg and Penelope still were there.
He kept an eye out for anyone who may prove threatening, but it seemed dead, although he didn't like using that expression. He turned a corner, and he barely could believe what he was seeing.
One of the planes had careened through the sky and slammed into this strip mall. Its huge bulky fuselage rested among rubble and broken cables as though it was sleeping on a bed. Its lights were dark, and it looked foreboding. Steam and smoke wafted through the air. It looked eerie, the entire scene lit up by moonlight. Debris crushed and crackled underneath Tillman's feet as he walked toward the scene. The remnants of the broken buildings had been crushed into gravel.
His heart sank as he thought about the people who had been in the stores when the plane crashed, and who now were buried under all the rubble. They would not get a chance to escape. Nor were they likely to be uncovered and given respectful burials. Their families always would be left wondering what had happened to them, having to accept the likelihood that they were dead without ever having closure.
Dead bodies lay strewn around the immediate area as well. From what Tillman was seeing he deduced that some people had survived the crash and crawled away from the plane, but they hadn't survived for long. The injuries these people had sustained must have been fatal. He couldn't imagine the terror these people experienced as they hurtled through the sky, falling to Earth. There would be so many stories like these around the rest of the country. The death toll must have been in the millions. It was far greater than any war. The population of the world had been devastated and there was no way humanity was going to get back to its previous state, not in Tillman's lifetime at least.
He stood there for a moment, feeling as though he should pay his respects to those who had died in this crash. Then he moved on, hoping the Game Changer had not suffered the same fate. It was with relief that he saw the plane had left a trail behind it, but the destruction had been limited to that trail. The rest of the stores still were intact, but all of them were dark.
This place was supposed to be a hive of activity. People were supposed to come here to enjoy life and escape from the world, but now it was dark and dead. This place meant nothing anymore. Nobody would come here again, except for shelter, but it wasn't a very safe place. Most of the stores here were focused on high-end products, clothes, and jewelry. There weren't any food stores. The only thing that could be of some use was a sporting goods store. Then Tillman remembered where it was, and that it had been destroyed by the plane.
He grimaced, clenched his teeth, and continued. At least when he got back to the store he would be able to rest his ankle and come up with a plan about what to do next. After all, perhaps he was wrong about everything. Perhaps after the first night he'd awaken to find that humanity wasn't cr
umbling at all, that relief efforts had been set up, and that everyone was going to be safe.
He just didn't have much confidence in the idea.
The silence suddenly was broken by a loud stampede of footsteps. Tillman looked up and saw a crowd of people approaching him. They all looked worried and scared. They were loud, talking among themselves. Tillman looked around. There was nowhere to hide, and besides, they already had seen him.
“Hey!” one of them said. It was a man, probably about forty years old. “You know what's going on here?” he asked.
Tillman shrugged and told him what he had told everyone else he had encountered. Murmurs of discontent rippled through the crowd. Tillman scanned their faces and saw a mixture of expressions. Some of them were scarred with horror, others merely were confused. Some of them evidently had lost loved ones, others looked as though they were only in the crowd because they were afraid to be alone.
“It's a hell of thing. We were at the airport. Our flights had been canceled and, well, you can see for yourself what we've had to put up with. I guess there's no hope that everything is going to be put together again then?” he asked.
“Doesn't look like it,” Tillman replied, “but you never know what's going to happen tomorrow. We might wake up and find that it's alright.”
He wished he could believe what he was saying.
“Damn, still, guess the world is ours for the taking now,” the man said, and looked around greedily at the stores, and everything they had to offer.
“I'd suggest you get to safety. Try finding some shelter. It might even be worth going back to the airport,” Tillman said.
“You haven't seen it have you?” the man asked.
“Seen what?”
“The airport. It's gone.”
“What do you mean it's gone?”
“The planes must have been trying to get back to the airport, because that's where they ended up. They fell from the sky and crashed into it. It was like an earthquake. We were lucky. We were waiting outside, and managed to run away. Not all of us were so fortunate. We tried to help as many people as we could, but most of them died on impact. I still almost can't believe that it happened. It feels like a nightmare.”