After the Fall (Book 1): Jason's Tale

by David E. Nees

  The Ruger was his pride and joy. It was modified with a longer, heavier, match barrel, which was bedded in and a re-worked trigger. The result was a very accurate rifle that was light, compact, and rugged. It was equipped with a low power, bush scope which worked well in the woods.

  In addition to the guns, Jason also owned and was proficient with a hunting bow. He had enjoyed mastering the weapon and hunting with it. Now that skill might make the difference between life and death. If the power didn’t come back, the bow might be the only weapon of value when the ammunition ran out. In those first days, Jason suppressed most of those thoughts, remaining hopeful that his worst fears would turn out to be unfounded, that the power would be restored, that Maggie had somehow escaped the plane crash and all would return to normal.

  He lived on a back road that went up into the foothills. The houses on the road were well spaced apart. On the second day after the EMP, Jason decided to check on his nearest neighbors.

  Tom and Mary Phillips lived closest to him, a quarter mile down the road. They were an older couple, retired and living alone. Tom came to the door to greet Jason.

  “Hi, Jason, it’s good to see you. Come in.”

  “Good to see you as well Tom. How are you and Mary doing?” Jason asked as he followed Tom into the living room.

  Mary sat on the sofa with a worried look on her face. “Come, sit down,” she said.

  “Do you know what happened? Nothing works, not even the car,” Tom said.

  Jason explained his theory of the EMP burst and its effects. They followed his explanation with increasing concern.

  “If what you’re saying is correct, then we may be out of power…with nothing working,” Tom gestured around with a wide sweep of his hand, “For some time.”

  “Yeah, that may be what we’re in for.”

  “What about Maggie? Where is she?” Mary asked.

  Jason paused, “Her plane took off an hour before the power went out.” There was silence in the room. Tom and Mary didn’t want to press Jason about what that most likely meant.

  “So what do we do?” Mary finally asked. “How do we get medicine and food? Tom has high blood pressure that’s controlled by medicine and I have diabetes.”

  Jason looked down at the floor; there were no good answers to her question. “I’m going to go into town to try to buy some things before they run out, if you have a prescription, even an old one, I’ll take it and try to get it filled.”

  “Jason, thank you,” Tom said. “But that may only be a stop-gap solution.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s the best you can do for now. I’m thinking I should go pretty soon, there’s no telling how long the supplies will last.” Jason stood up. “I’ll go back to my house and get my backpack. Find some prescriptions and write a note giving me permission to get them. I’ll stop by on my way to town.”

  Tom saw him to the door. “Do you think this will last a long time? I don’t want to panic Mary by digging into how bad this could be in front of her. I can get along without my blood pressure medicine, but Mary has to have a supply of insulin.”

  “Tom, I just don’t know. If it’s regional, help will come shortly and we’ll be okay. If it’s national in scope, then I’m afraid we’re in for a terrible time. I don’t want to sugar coat it for you.”

  “Could this problem really be national in size?”

  “Under the right conditions, yeah…it could.” After a pause, “You should clean your bath tubs and fill them with water. Be prepared to use the water in your pool as well.”

  “The water’s going to run out?”

  “It runs on gravity. Yours is the last house on this road with city water, and when the storage tanks run down, the water won’t push up this far.”

  Jason rode back into town with his backpack, his 9mm pistol under his shirt, money and the prescriptions for the Phillips. He entered the first drug store; the pharmacy counter was at the back. There was a long waiting line. Other people were scrambling around the isles, grabbing soda bottles, bottled water and over the counter drugs and taking them by the armful up to the counters near the front door.

  Jason’s turn finally came. He showed the pharmacist the prescriptions and notes from Tom and Mary. “I’m picking these up for my neighbors,” he said.

  The pharmacist scowled. “We’re in an unusual situation here. I can’t even confirm insurance coverage for people who are presenting proper prescriptions, now you want me to let you pick up other people’s prescriptions?”

  “You must know these people. They get their prescriptions filled here. They’re my neighbors. Look at the address, they live outside of town. You know cars don’t run. They have no way to get here. I’m trying to do them a favor, helping them to get some needed medicine.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Here are their prescription cards. I’ll pay the amounts needed—in cash—so you don’t have to worry about insurance reimbursement. Things are going to return to normal, but we all have to help one another while this disruption lasts.” Jason felt that he might be lying about things returning to normal soon.

  “Well, we’re out of the insulin, but I have the blood pressure medicine in stock.”

  “I’ll take it,” Jason said quickly. The line behind him was becoming restless. He didn’t relish the pharmacist’s situation as his supplies ran down. The tension was growing. The girl at the checkout counter up front could not process any credit cards which upset some of the customers who refused to give up their supplies but didn’t have enough cash to cover them. With the blood pressure medicine in hand, Jason pedaled away in search of insulin. It took three more visits to drug stores and their pharmacies to find one with insulin, but he was finally successful.

  After the medicine, Jason went to a gun shop for additional 9mm and .223 caliber ammunition. The lines there were beginning to grow and the shop was posting its own armed guard. He was limited to purchasing one box of each type of ammunition, cash only. Jason pedaled off to two more gun shops and was able to purchase more rounds for each of the guns. Later in the afternoon, he headed back home. In the distance, back in town, he heard gunfire. It’s started already.

  The next morning, he was in the garage working on an old generator, trying to get it to run. Jason figured this older engine, with no electronics, might be made to work. With it, he could not only run some lights, but also an electric motor that could be made to pump water from his well. A steady supply of clean well water would be invaluable over time. He paused as he heard someone walking up the driveway. It was Jim Miller, the only other neighbor Jason knew on the road. Jim and his wife, Cathy, lived a mile down the hill with their two kids, Tim and Carrie.

  “Jason, are you around?” he called out.

  “In the garage,” he responded. “Come on in.”

  “What can I do for you?” Jason asked as Jim entered the garage.

  Jim was in his thirties. He and his wife both worked. Their kids, Carrie, twelve and Tim, nine, were both bright and enthusiastic. Carrie idolized Maggie and had made her promise to help her get a job as a fashion model when she graduated from school.

  “Just wanted to get your thoughts about what has happened. I can’t figure it out for the life of me.”

  “Did you get the kids back to the house?”

  “Yeah, Cathy and I wound up meeting at the school; I came from work. It was her day off, so she rode her bicycle from the house. The school was holding the kids until parents could come for them.”

  “I hope all the parents were able to pick up their kids.”

  “I think some of the staff were planning to stay overnight with the kids if their parents didn’t come. Hopefully everyone got picked up by yesterday. So, you have any clue as to what’s up?”

  “I do. I think it was an EMP burst, possibly over the eastern half of the US.” Jason went on to explain the effects of such an event.

  “If it shut power down all over the east, we’ll be quite a while recovering.” Jim
was going where Jason had already been.

  “I think this was an attack; it didn’t happen by accident, and if it was, there might have been multiple bursts to cover the whole country.”

  “Holy shit,” Jim murmured, “That would be a first class disaster.”

  “More than you can imagine. I went to town yesterday to get some prescriptions for the Phillips. There are already lines at the pharmacy counters for medicine and that will only get worse. It’s good your family is together; I think I heard gunfire late yesterday when I was coming home.”

  “Rioting?”

  “Maybe, or looting.”

  “What do you think we should do?”

  “Fill your tubs and any containers with water while there’s pressure. That’s the first thing. Next you should inventory your food supplies and, this could be dangerous, you should go out right away to buy what you can. Food and water are going to become scarce soon, get what you can now.”

  “You’re freaking me out, you know that.”

  “I’m telling you how to deal with what we’re facing. Who knows what’s going to happen, but I can’t imagine many rosy scenarios. Jim, do you have any weapons in the house?”

  “Christ, no.”

  “Well, it’s too late to buy any. I’ll loan you my 20 gauge shotgun. Do you know how to use it?”

  Jim took a deep breath, “I can learn quickly.”

  “Fine, let’s go inside.” He put down his wrench and headed into the house. After getting the shotgun out, Jason showed Jim how to load and unload it. It held four shells in the tube magazine and one in the chamber. In defending his house, he instructed Jim to chamber a shell, then put another in the magazine and, if possible, never shoot the magazine dry so he wouldn’t have to spend too much time loading shells. Jim followed along as Jason went slowly over the operation of the weapon. He looked close to panicking as the lesson and the implications of what it meant sank in.

  “I’ll go back down to the sporting goods store on the Ridge Highway, the one on the way to town. I’ll see if I can get you a couple of bow and arrow sets. People may not have thought of buying them yet. They’re quiet and the ammunition is reusable.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Jim offered.

  “No, I’ve got no one here at home. Stay with your family. Show them how to use the shotgun. Make sure they can load and unload it and aim it. For God’s sake, though, don’t fire it. Shells are precious and you’ll scare the Phillips to death.”

  Jim smiled thinly at Jason’s humor attempt. “What about Maggie? She’s away?”

  “Yeah, she was on a plane when the power went out.”

  There was a pause. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

  “I think it does.” Jason could say no more. His eyes teared up as he thought about Maggie.

  “I’m sorry,” was all Jim could say.

  Chapter 4

  The first casualties were the very sick and very old. Next to die were those who were kept alive by drugs that were no longer available. It was heart wrenching for everyone who knew people in these situations. Mary Phillips passed away after six weeks. Jason helped Tom bury her in the back yard. Tom then set out to walk to town to seek help from the authorities in charge. Two weeks later, Jim and Cathy decided to go to town with their kids.

  “Are you sure you want to put yourselves in the hands of the town authorities?” Jason asked.

  “We’re running out of food and water and we can’t ask you to support us. You’ve been generous, but it isn’t right to eat up all your supplies. I hear there’s a regular supply in town. It’s better than starving. You sure you don’t want to come?” Tom asked.

  “No. I can make it through the winter. I’ll see how things are in the spring. Don’t let them split up your family,” he warned. “And don’t tell them about me.”

  In different trips into town Jason saw order restored under martial law. There were cops or a militia on every block. People were being organized by blocks, told where to live, and what work to do. Work was begun on repairing old vehicles, gardening, digging wells or digging latrines around town as the toilets couldn’t be flushed. On his trips to town, he was shaken down for money, then, as that became useless, the stops were to search for food, weapons, ammunition or medicine. Jason had learned to go to town unarmed except for a knife. The police and militia would confiscate anything else of value. As the environment in town became more controlling, he ventured there less often.

  After saying goodbye to the Millers, Jason retreated more and more into himself, staying alone in his house as the city became more controlling. As food and water became more difficult to find, hunger became the driver of people’s behavior. Autocratic control was the response by those in power.

  Often Jason spent hours at night thinking about Maggie. When he couldn’t sleep he would take some of her clothing into bed with him and hold it tight to his body until exhaustion had its way. Waves of sadness would envelope him without warning. He gradually came to accept that he would never see her again. This acceptance did not end his grieving but allowed him to move forward.

  One late fall day, Jason heard some commotion on his driveway. Going to the window, he saw a group of five men and one woman approaching the house. They were armed with bats, an ax and a couple of pistols. Quickly grabbing his Ruger .223, he yelled out of his window.

  “Stop or I’ll fire! I’ve got an automatic rifle and I can take all of you down before you get to the door!”

  The group hesitated. They looked at one another. Clearly they had been going from house to house, scavenging what they could, and had found either little resistance or no one home. They had not expected a confrontation.

  “We’re hungry,” one of the group members called out. Jason noted the speaker, figuring him for the leader.

  “Everyone’s hungry,” Jason replied. “Go to town and get in line to be fed.”

  “They take everything from you when you sign up for a ration card,” the leader complained.

  “Still better than starving…or stealing from others. Trying to steal from me is going to get you killed.” Jason hoped they understood how serious he was. He didn’t want to shoot them, but he was not going to let them steal his resources.

  “Can you give us some food?” the leader called out after considering Jason’s threat.

  “Sorry, I don’t have any extra to give you.”

  There was a conference among the group. Jason waited for them to accept that he should not be challenged. “I guess we’ll just be on our way,” the leader finally called out to the house.

  “I’m going to be real clear with you,” Jason answered. “I’m the last house on this road for five miles and you can bet any people further out are also armed and willing to shoot trespassers without warning. You need to turn around and go back. This road holds nothing of value for you anymore. And if you try to sneak up on me at night, I have power and trip lights rigged. I’ll shoot you on sight now that I’ve warned you.” Jason was bluffing about warning lights. He didn’t want them trying the house at night even though he had secured it against easy entry.

  The resolve of the leader visibly sagged. “You won’t have trouble from us.”

  “Good luck, then,” Jason replied as he watched them slowly trudge down his driveway and off in the direction of town.

  It’ll be a light night of sleeping. He sighed.

  As winter approached, wild game got more and more scarce. The deer population had either been killed or had moved further into the mountains. Jason began to wonder if he should stay. His food supplies would not last forever and local game was scarce. He could still survive but only by going further and further afield to hunt and gather.

  He spent many nights sorting out his thoughts, pondering what to do. Hillsboro was only partly under control. Food was still scarce and what was available was controlled by the town’s safety committee. There was no input from the general citizens. The emergency laws were put in place by the committee
which consisted of Frank Mason, previously Chairman of the Town Council, two other Councilmen and Charlie Cook, the Chief of Police. Jason suspected that Joe Stansky had a hand in much of what was going on as well. He had heard his name invoked by the militia on some of his trips to town. Joe ran a local strip club and was suspected of controlling much of the drugs and crime in the city. There were still gun fights between either the police or militia and scattered groups trying to steal supplies. However, most of the public had been disarmed, if they ever had been.

  The ones who wanted to be fed, who signed up for ration cards, were stripped of all weapons and forced to abide by a set of emergency regulations set up to control them. The regulations directed where they could live, where they could eat and the work they had to do on the town projects. Top down control was established in the name of civic order. Most people went along with it since it meant regular, if limited, food to eat. In addition the town was building up its defenses—walling itself in—to keep out wandering refugees and roving gangs.

  On his last trip to town, Jason was stopped by some of the militia. They wanted to know where he lived and why he didn’t have a ration card. When Jason protested that he didn’t have to answer such questions they grabbed him and handcuffed him. During the struggle a crowd began to form. Finally a man came up who seemed to be in charge.

  “What’s going on?” he demanded.

  “This guy doesn’t have a ration card and won’t tell us where he lives,” one of the militia replied.

  The man walked up to Jason who was glaring at everyone. “Why the reluctance to tell us about yourself?” he asked.

  “It’s none of your business,” Jason replied.

  “Well it is. I’m in charge of the town, my name’s Frank Mason. We have to restore order, so questions like these are necessary. We’d like you to cooperate.”

  “I don’t live in town. I live outside, in the western suburbs,” Jason lied. I don’t have a ration card because I don’t need one. I can feed myself.” He glared back at Frank. “So is that enough information for you?”