by Harley Tate
“I don’t know. It depends on the size of the EMP, I suppose.”
“Brianna said if it had been a nuclear attack, parts of the US would still have power, like Florida and maybe even Washington State.”
“But this wasn’t a nuclear attack. It was the sun. Truth is, we might never know unless we drive there.”
Madison nodded. They had so many decisions to make, starting with where to go next. “Do you really think Brianna’s family will let us stay with them?”
Her mom thought it over. “Maybe. But that depends on if her family even made it to the cabin. They could be on the road just like we are, or worse. Once we get there, we can reassess and decide what to do. Until then, we need to focus on the drive.”
The car beeped and Madison glanced down. The dash flashed with a red little shape that looked like an electrical plug. “Mom?”
“Yes, dear.”
“We might have a problem.” Madison glanced up. About fifty yards ahead, the Jeep eased around a car blocking half of the right lane and kept going. The Leaf shuddered, the beeping from the dash growing louder and more insistent.
“I think the battery is dying.”
“What?” Her mom sat up in the passenger seat. “I thought this was one of those hybrids you could drive forever and never need to stop at the gas station.”
Madison hesitated. “Does it even take gas?”
“What kind of car doesn’t take gas? It has to.” Her mom reached for the glove box and popped it open. “Let me check the owner’s manual.” She fished around the dark with a frown. “Where is it?”
While her mom rooted through the glove compartment, Madison stared at the little flashing light. The car began to shake. She pressed down on the accelerator, but the car didn’t speed up. If anything, it slowed even more.
At last, her mom pulled out a business card. “For more information, including a compete owner’s manual, please look us up online.” She groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Madison pumped the gas pedal as the Leaf coasted to a stop. The battery symbol on the dash glowed solid red for a moment before blinking out. The whole car shut off.
Her mom pushed open the passenger-side door. “There has to be a gas tank. We’ll just find a car, siphon it, and be back on the road in no time.” She climbed out and began looking at the rear of the vehicle. “Madison? Is there a gas tank up front? I’m not seeing a place to put the hose.”
Madison climbed out and glanced around. “I don’t think there is a gas tank, mom.”
“Nonsense.” Her mom walked around the car inspecting every curve and indent before stopping back where she started. “I never.”
Madison glanced up. The bright yellow of Brianna’s Jeep was nowhere to be found. Oh, no. I forgot to honk. Madison rushed back inside the car and slammed her hand down on the horn. It stayed silent.
She hit it again. Come on. With the battery dead, not even the horn worked. If Brianna made it too far down the road before she noticed they were gone, she might lose track of the way back. We could be stranded.
“Brianna’s gone.”
“What?” Her mom glanced up, the space between her brows knitting together. “As soon as she notices we aren’t behind her, she’ll come back.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
Her mom glanced at the back of the Leaf loaded down with supplies. “We can stay here for the night and pack out in the morning.”
“What about all the stuff?”
Her mom shrugged. “We’ll have to leave it behind.”
Something inside Madison snapped. That’s it!
She kicked the side of the car as hard as she could, putting a boot-sized dent in the fender. She kicked it again and added another. “I’m so sick of this! I’m dirty and smelly, our house just burned down, my dad could be anywhere from here to Hong Kong, and now we can’t even go anywhere.”
Her mom didn’t say a word.
“I want everything back. Movies and arcades and grocery stores and cheesy pop songs and cars… that… take… gas!” Madison accented each of her last few words with another kick to the fender. By the time she finished the poor thing looked like a giant pockmarked golf ball.
She exhaled and palmed her hips. “What?”
“Are you done?”
“Yes.” She crossed her arms across her chest.
“You can scream if you want to. I know I’ve done it a time or two.”
Madison let her arms drop. “You’ve gotten so frustrated you yelled?”
“At the top of my lungs. Even threw in some choice obscenities, too.” Her mom smiled. “It’s okay to be frustrated. It’s just never okay to give up.”
The rumbling of an engine caught Madison’s ear and she turned her head. The bright yellow of a familiar Jeep’s front grille made her smile. “They came back!”
“Of course they did. Now help me push this car over into the parking lot. We can stop here for the night.”
Madison waved at Brianna before going to the back of the Leaf and giving it a push. Her mom steered it over to the side and into the lot of what used to be a restaurant. The windows to the place had been smashed and the inside burned. Now it was an empty shell just like their former house.
Brianna parked alongside and all three college students got out. “What happened?”
“Battery’s dead.”
Brianna glanced around. “It takes gas, too, right? We can just siphon some and—”
Madison held up her hand. “No gas. Turns out it’s electric only.”
Her roommate’s mouth fell open. “Of all the cars to steal, you all get an electric one? You do know the power’s out, right?”
Madison’s mom laughed. “It was the best I could do at the time. Believe me, I’d much rather have my Suburban.”
Peyton spoke up. “We have way too much stuff to fit into the Jeep. And if we’re all going to be riding in it, we’ll have to take out even more. What are we going to do?”
Madison glanced at her mom. “My mom wants to stay here for the night and figure out a plan in the morning.”
Tucker glanced at his watch. “Not a bad idea. It’ll be getting dark in an hour or so.”
Peyton nodded. “I don’t think we should drive at night.”
Brianna crossed her arms. “Last time we tried sleeping in our car, we almost got arrested.”
“And shot,” Tucker added. “Don’t forget shot.”
“We can take turns as a lookout. One person every two hours. That way we all get some much-needed sleep and we stay secure.”
Madison nodded. “It’s a good idea. I’m exhausted. You all must be too.” At this point, all of them had been awake for way, way too long.
At last, Brianna dropped her hands. “Fine. I could use some sleep. But Peyton sleeps in the Leaf. I can’t listen to him snore.”
“I don’t snore!”
“Do too!”
“Do not!”
Madison shook her head and turned toward the car. She could make Peyton some room.
Her mom spoke over the bickering. “If you all will stop arguing long enough to get us something to eat, I’ll take the first shift tonight.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
WALTER
Sloane Residence
8:30 p.m.
Walter slowed the car, disbelief easing his foot off the accelerator. It couldn’t be. He pulled up in front of the charred remains of a house, frowning as he glanced at the surrounding untouched homes.
“Whoa. Looks like whoever lived there got a bit too happy with the gas grill, maybe.”
“That’s my house.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” Walter turned off the car and got out, walking in slow-motion around the back. He stopped at the edge of the singed lawn.
My house.
He inhaled a shaky breath, exhaling through his mouth. All that remained of the little bungalow he and Tracy had purchased with the proceeds from the sale of their big hou
se out in the suburbs was a half-melted fridge and a few charred walls.
My house is gone.
Walter lifted his foot, about to step onto the grass, but he hesitated, the sole of his shoe hovering an inch above the blackened blades. Had his wife and daughter died in the fire? Were their bones lying in a charcoal heap not thirty feet in front of him?
It smelled fresh, like a campfire the morning after. Had this happened only yesterday?
If he hadn’t gotten on that damn airplane… If he hadn’t let his sense of duty to the job and the passengers sway him from his instincts…
Walter slid to his knees and the burnt lawn crunched beneath his jeans. If I hadn’t saved Drew…
As the door to the Jetta opened, Walter jumped up, half-running, half-staggering into the ashes. He needed to see it. Touch it. Smell it.
To confirm with his own eyes and fingers and lips and nose that he let his family down. That he failed. He rushed into what used to be the kitchen. The fire consumed everything it touched. No kitchen table, no counters, no framed portrait of his daughter at her high school graduation.
Everything he loved. Gone. Walter tore into what used to be the living room and turned around in a circle. A shell of the couch still remained, the springs from the sleeper sofa inside still coiled in their cage.
Down the hall, the bathtub still sat in its familiar position, enamel melted away to expose the iron underneath. He felt like that tub. Burned and raw. Burnt to the bone.
Walter paused outside what used to be the master. He couldn’t go in. He couldn’t confirm what he already knew.
“Walter!”
He turned around.
“Walter, is that you?”
A flashlight beam came bounding across the street, illuminating a pair of slipper-clad feet. He walked toward the light.
“Penny?”
“Oh, it is you! Thank goodness. Tracy asked me to look out for you and I was just about to go to bed. If you’d arrived any later, I’d have missed you.”
He blinked. “Tracy? She’s alive?”
“Oh, heavens, yes.” She paused and looked past him at what was left of his house. “You didn’t think—oh, no, Tracy and the kids are fine.”
“The kids?”
“Mm-hmm, all those nice college friends of your daughter’s. That one boy who looks like a football player, wow, he sure can lift some heavy things.”
Walter had no idea if Penny had lost her mind or what, but he’d cling to the hope she offered. “My daughter was here? Madison was here?”
“Oh, yes. With three of her friends.” Penny tucked a strand of hair up into the sleeping cap on her head. “I’m not so sure about the teeny blonde; she’s a bit of a spitfire. But the other boy seems nice.”
Walter exhaled. His wife and daughter were alive. He didn’t care whether they had taken in the entire UC Davis Agriculture Department as long as they were still breathing.
“Do you know where they went?”
“Tracy said something about Truckee. She’s driving a little foreign car and the blonde girl is in a bright yellow Jeep. It looks like a mini school bus.” Penny dug one hand in her pocket and fished out a crumpled up piece of paper. She held it out to Walter. “Here. Tracy told me to give you this.”
Walter took the piece of paper and opened it.
Hi, Babe.
If you’re reading this, then I’m the happiest woman in the whole world. As you can see, we had to move out. A bit of a problem with the roof and whatnot. We are headed up to a cabin in Truckee. We’ll be taking back roads.
Come find us.
Love you,
Tracy
Walter choked back a sob. She was alive. It didn’t matter if he had to spend the rest of his life tracking her down. He would.
Walter tucked the precious piece of paper in his pocket and smiled. “Thank you, Penny. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.” He reached out and wrapped the tiny woman up in a hug, almost picking her up off the ground in his thanks.
“Oooh. That’s okay.” She patted him on the arm and Walter let her go. “Just go find your family. I know they miss you.”
“I miss them, too. Thank you, again. If there’s anything I can do…”
“No. Just go. I’ll be fine.”
Walter smiled and thanked Penny once more before rushing back to the car. He slid into the driver’s seat and turned to Drew.
He took one look at the man and froze. “What the hell is that?”
Drew glanced down at the orange fur ball snuggled up on his lap. “It’s a cat.”
“What’s it doing in our car?”
Drew raised an eyebrow. “First, it’s my car. Second, he’s sleeping. I opened the door to get some air while you were… busy… and he hopped right in. Didn’t seem right to kick him out.”
Walter exhaled. His daughter did love pets. “All right. He can stay. But he stays on your side of the car.”
“Fine by me.” Drew glanced out the window at the house. “I don’t know how to ask, but… your family?”
“Are alive. They left this afternoon for Truckee.”
Drew nodded and looked away.
Walter frowned. He couldn’t imagine what Drew must be going through after losing his fiancée, but from the few minutes of panic and despair he’d just suffered through, it had to be almost unbearable. “I’m sorry about Anne, Drew. I know this must be hard.”
He nodded. “It is. But you were right. I need to keep going. She wouldn’t have wanted me to quit.”
“So you’re fine with going to find them?”
Drew shrugged. “Where else am I going to go?”
Walter turned the car back on and smiled. “All right. Road trip it is. Still buckled?”
“With you driving? You better believe it.”
Walter pulled out from the curb. “Then let’s go find my family.”
DAY SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY
MADISON
Somewhere North of Sacramento, CA
5:00 a.m.
Madison couldn’t sleep even if she wanted to. All she could think about was the fire. Every time she closed her eyes, flames leapt across the blackness and her eyelids popped back open.
She walked around the cars, pacing along the faded parking spot lines. The sun would be up soon, but until then, her mom and friends needed to sleep.
As she leaned against the fender of the dead electric car, she started a running tally in her head of all the things she used to take for granted and would never get to do again. No more radio or television. No more late nights cramming for a test with her friends over cold pizza and soda. No more pizza, period.
First dates and homecoming games. School plays and art exhibits. Ice cream. So many more fun things. But then there were the basics. Running water and flushing toilets. Trash pickup. Antibiotics.
All of that was simple. The rest boggled her mind. The technology the country relied on every single day. The stock exchange. The modern banking system. Email and text messages and everything else they did with the power of electricity.
The economy would never come back from this.
A week without power and even the most stalwart supporters of the government must be doubting their sanity. No FEMA trucks rolled by. No military personnel were out patrolling the streets or delivering cases of water and MREs.
This wasn’t like a hurricane or an earthquake or a flash flood. The worst natural disaster their county had faced in recent years didn’t wipe out the entire power grid for thousands of miles. There was always someone, somewhere, who could help.
Between the Red Cross, local charities, churches, and friendly neighbors, people survived for a while without power. But not this time.
How many children were hungry that very minute? How many would die in the next week or month or year? She couldn’t hazard a guess. In one of their down moments, Tucker had pulled up a copy of a US House of Representatives hearing almost a decade old on his phone. He’d saved i
t the day he received the notice of a potential solar storm.
With his solar panels charging up his electronics, he could pull up anything stored locally on his computer or phone and he was always checking to see if he could connect with the outside world. A few pages into reading the hearing transcription and it confirmed all of Madison’s worst fears.
Ninety percent of the country’s population would be dead within a year if an EMP destroyed the power grid. That’s what the experts predicted: 90 percent. Everything was there, in black and white. Most of the 300 million people living in the United States couldn’t provide for their own food or other needs.
They stopped living like that years ago.
To go back to a rural economy—one where people grew what they needed to survive instead of relying on others—they estimated the country would only support 30 million people at the most. Ten percent of the current population.
The hearing had taken place a decade a ago. The government knew and it did nothing. Nothing to shore up the power grid. Nothing to put backup generators in place or shield the grid from the effects of an EMP.
They sat by and let the country become more and more dependent on technology and further and further removed from basic subsistence living.
Madison rubbed at her eyes. Thanks to modernity, no one knew how to survive anymore. But that didn’t mean some people wouldn’t make it. In a year, when most had failed, there would be the survivors. The ones who adapted and overcame would still be there. Living.
She would be one of those people. So would her mom and friends and hopefully… her dad. She thought about all the times she took her family and her life for granted.
The weekends she didn’t come home from college. The days she didn’t hug her father before he left on an international flight. All the missed opportunities to tell them she loved them.
For so many years everyone around her only cared about the next new thing. Money. Cars. Clothes. Success.
It had all been an illusion.
Madison closed her eyes for a moment. She had to put the past behind her. Forget about the bad things and hold onto the good memories. The ones that would push her on.