EMP Causality

by Michael Kravitz

  Looking for a good strategic place to stop, Ann noticed a large eighteen-wheeler on the side of the road. From that vantage point, she could see a long distance both behind and in front of her.

  “All right, folks, time for a break,” Ann announced as she pulled near the eighteen-wheeler.

  “Look, guys, you two can take a bathroom break behind the eighteen-wheeler. Just let me know if you need toilet paper,” Ann said as she got out a gas can and a hose. It was time to fuel up. Neither William nor Fred needed toilet paper, but they really had to pee.

  Behind the eighteen-wheeler, Fred dropped his pants to pee. It is the only way he knows how to pee. When William takes him into a restaurant, it can be embarrassing. Too see another man drop his pants at the urinal often raises red flags. Many people do not know or understand the habits of challenged people. They might mistake him for a pervert, which is really sad. Most of the time, William asks Fred to use a john and tells him to close the doors. It usually works.

  Finishing their business, Ann turns to Camille. “You’re next. Toilet paper is in the back. Take some water to wash your hands,” Ann said as she continues to siphon more diesel.

  After Ann finished with the fuel, she took her turn in back of the eighteen-wheeler. Being careful with where she walked, she did her business. We can call it “squatter rights.” Coming back to the Humvee, Ann took out the food her husband (Officer Ryan) gave her. Fred likes to eat heavy, but Ann knew that it would not be a good idea. This should be the last bathroom break for a few hours.

  All feasted on a nice home-cooked meal at the prison. The inmates had it good. During this EMP strike, prison life is not “hard time”; it actually is “good survival time.”

  Fred is looking for ketchup. He puts ketchup on everything. If it is a badly cooked meal, no worries. Ketchup makes everything taste good. As long as he doesn’t put ketchup on his ice cream, everything will be all right.

  “Sorry, Fred, no ketchup this time,” Ann said in an apologetic tone.

  “How about a piece of bread? So I can sop up the bottom of my plate,” Fred pleaded.

  Ann went into the back of the Humvee and took out one piece of bread. She did not want Fred to have a bowel movement until they camped, so she gave Fred the piece of bread.

  It is time to get the show on the road. With necessities done, it is off to NYC. At least they wanted to go south before they veered westward.

  William helped wash Fred’s plate. William himself only ate a few cashew nuts. As he is cleaning the plate, Camille turned to Ann.

  “That boy needs some meat on his frame,” Camille said in a constructive way.

  Ann did not reply to Camille’s comment. As a policewoman, she has learned how to measure her words and actions. Police business has a lot of liabilities attached to it.

  Fred put his headphones again. This time he is listening to “Deck the Halls.” Maybe God is blessing him in a strange way. To keep him happy requires the simplest things in life. William is just meditating. The late afternoon sun is starting to drop in the sky. The real hot part of the day is over. It is becoming tolerable to Camille, Fred, and Ann. To William, it is time for his long-sleeve shirt.

  They had driven for a little over an hour since lunchbreak. Something is in the air (like a Phil Collins song). They were accustomed to the constant fires and debris. The landscape is changing. They are coming closer to the epicenter of the blast. There is actually some small tree damage and blown-out windows.

  The other change is a very large fire. Ann had a change in her facial countenance. It is now an expression of concern. She glanced at the sun. It’s position shows her that it is now late afternoon.

  The day has been long and eventful. Debris on the road seems to be increasing. During the trip, they have seen occasional pedestrians, military transports, and a rare antique vehicle. For the last few miles, Ann was not seeing any kind of life. There is not even a stray dog. While the others in the Humvee are unaware, Ann has a keen instinct to her surroundings. Up ahead there is a large sign sitting on a tripod. Their travel slowed. It seems the bulldozers had given up on this stretch of the road.

  NO FURTHER ACCESS, ALL VEHICLES MUST TAKE NEXT EXIT, the sign read.

  By the army core of engineers, Ann just stopped the Humvee and put her hands on the steering wheel.

  “Well, guys, I guess we are going into the suburbs,” Ann said cautiously.

  Deep inside her, she knew something is very amiss. Did the government just run out of assets? Or was the damage near the epicenter too overwhelming? There is an old saying, “Curiosity killed the cat.” In her mind, she wanted to drive toward this new forbidden zone. Camille had Ann’s camera and took a few pictures. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a few pictures?

  Pictures of the forbidden zone. It would give the trip even more valuable information.

  As they exited the highway, Ann looked at her compass. It is now pointing in a more westerly direction. It is the direction that they must travel to get to the tent city near the Mississippi River. The forbidden zone is southeast.

  It is coming up to late afternoon. There is still a good three hours till dusk. Up ahead there is a fork in the road. The right fork took a westerly direction; the left a more southerly direction.

  Ann had to take the left turn. Camille, well, she is used to danger. She had a 9mm gun and a camera. She totally trusted Ann. Way up ahead there seems to be another roadblock. Ann just stopped the Humvee.

  “Camille, in the glove compartment is a set of binoculars. Will you please hand them too me?” Ann said politely.

  “Thanks,” Ann stated as Camille handed her the binoculars.

  Off in the distance is a roadblock. There is an army jeep with two soldiers shouldering their rifles. What to do? She does have an official document signed by the commander at the air base. She looked in the rearview mirror. William has a very tense look on his face. She turned the rearview mirror just so slightly. Fred had his headphones on, singing off key. Ann smiled and turned the Humvee around. Her mission is to reach Tent City safely. Somehow she sees Fred in the same category as children and animals. They are the innocent and must be protected. After all, she is a policewomen. “To serve and protect.”

  Déjà vu! Back to the same fork. This time Ann turns right. William, well his face is less tense. The large fire seems to be getting closer. Driving for several minutes, the houses seem to be spaced further apart. Soon she saw a clearing.

  In the middle of it was a small pond. I was getting late. At best there is only an hour and half of sunlight left.

  Ann pulled off the road and drove slowly. The grass seems to be over a foot tall. Stopping near the pond, Ann got out of the Humvee.

  “We are going to set up camp,” Ann said with a little authority.

  William had to poke Fred to get his attention. Fred got out of the Humvee. He walked a couple of feet and started to drop his pants. He thought this was a bathroom break.

  “Not yet, Fred. We are sleeping here tonight. Just wait a couple of minutes,” William said in a gentle voice.

  William helped take out the two tents. They had about one hour of sunlight left. Camille grabbed the small shovel and dug a hole for a quick fire pit. Fred enjoyed looking for small pieces of wood. Time to heat up supper. Even though there were still leftovers of the meatloaf, Ann wanted to add a few different can goods to the mix.

  William is pretty handy. He decided to put up both tents. William and Fred would sleep in one. The other will be for Ann and Camille. Tonight will be William’s first time to sleep with a firearm next to him. The Humvee is off the road and there doesn’t seem to be anyone around.

  Not one to take any chances, Ann is setting up several trip wires. She puts posts in the ground and strings a wire across them. The fire might attract a thug or hoodlum. Seeing a military vehicle usually sends out warning signals to most of them.

  William turned to Fred and told him it’s okay to use the bathroom. Fred walked a good fifty feet from th
e Humvee to pee. Camille and Ann are now used to Fred’s habits and accepted them gracefully.

  Lastly, William had to dig two small holes on each side of the Humvee. One hole is for William and Fred, the other for Ann and Camille. They were all very concerned with the environment. Camille asked Ann if it’s okay to take a few pictures. Receiving Ann’s blessing, Camille took a few of the group.

  William is a little chilly, but the others enjoyed the cooler evening. The fire kept the mosquitoes away. The last thing they had to worry about is ticks.

  No sense surviving this dangerous trip then come down with Lyme disease. Sitting around the fire and enjoying each other’s company relieved tensions. Before Fred ate, William dipped a syringe with a little alcohol. He then drew some insulin from a vial that he had. Fred doesn’t even react to receiving the shot.

  Off in the distance, everyone could see the large fire. Since the EMP blast, there have been multiple fires, but not of this magnitude. It is in the direction they are traveling. Tonight everyone is going to go to sleep early. Tomorrow promises to have many challenges.

  EMP Causality: Part V

  Danger

  Sleeping out of their green zone is just not cricket. All night Ann and the others experienced the same sounds, the same smells. The occasional bang—Bang!—of a 9mm gun is followed by the smell of burnt ash. Before the EMP blast, this would be a rare occurrence. It probably would make the local news. Now, the news stations on the East Coast are kaput.

  Everyone except Fred tossed and turned. Ann gave a flashlight for William and Fred. Even though they are camping, when nature calls, it’s hard to find that hole in the ground without light. The only exception might be William. He eats so little. It stands to reason, if very little is going in one end, very little is coming out the other. All right, I got it. I’m moving along now, folks.

  The only one who really needs sleep is Ann. Camille and William have offered to drive. Camille explained to Ann that she has driven from Boston to Orlando on multiple occasions. Twice she drove straight through without any sleep. Ann is definitely considering it. Her only hesitation is they are driving a military vehicle. Although she has the base commander’s blessing, she is still a Massachusetts police officer. What authority gives Camille and William permission to drive a military vehicle?

  One thought I had is that Ann could deputize them. Like the movie Blazing Saddles. Then again, the misfits said, “We don’t need any stinking badges.” Ann is a pragmatic leader. She has a natural instinct to do the right thing. When and if the time is right, she will let Camille drive.

  Coming out of his tent, William slapped a mosquito at his check. He went to the pond to sponge himself. After brushing his teeth and washing up, he grabbed a few dirty clothes to wash. The weather is warm. Mostly likely it will be another muggy day. William really wanted to contribute. He is determined to start a morning fire before Ann gets up.

  Ann did not sleep well. Driving into the abyss is stressful enough. Having the safety of three others is a lot on her shoulders. She heard the flames of the morning fire and knew it was William’s contribution. Perhaps for the first time since she started this road trip, she is relaxed.

  Ann curled up in a fetal position. With a smile on her face, she decided to sleep for another hour or two.

  Camille stretched her arms and saw Ann. She quietly exited the tent. Before she did, she took the camera and took a few shots. This way she can show it to her husband (Officer Ryan). See, she really was sleeping by herself. In reality, they have a great marriage. Why would either of them cheat? They both have guns. Now that’s what I call “trust and verify,” or how about “Go ahead, make my day and cheat”?

  “Good morning, William” Camille said with a roll of toilet paper in her hand.

  “Morning, Camille. I took it on myself to cook a little breakfast for everyone,” William replied. He found a skillet in the back of the Humvee.

  “Ah William, I need to use the spot that you dug for Ann and me,” Camille said while shaking the roll of toilet paper over her head.

  “No worries! I see nothing,” William said.

  At this point, Fred is smelling food and started to exit the tent. William put his two fingers on his lips. He quietly told Fred to wait a few minutes. Fred almost always listens to William. He is stuck to William’s hip. Fred knows he is his lifeline. He has always been a good advocate for Fred. In Fred’s mind, he sees William as his protector and provider.

  “All set,” Camille yelled out as she headed for the pond. She too wanted to wash out her dirty clothes.

  At this point, William told Fred to come out. Fred said that he needed to use the bathroom. William got him some toilet paper. He also gave a heads-up to Camille. Fred sees the use of a bathroom in a different light. Privacy is not as important to him as others. It is not a bad thing; It’s just one of his own natural habits.

  Camille took her washed clothes and hung them on a nearby branch. By the time they leave, her clothes should be dried.

  Fred loves to mimic his friends. So he walks down to the pond to sponge-bathe himself. He deeply wants to be accepted by the people who surround him. In his eyes, he feels he is normal. Perhaps that is why he is happier than most of us. No bills, no appointments to drive to (although very few are driving now). No meals to cook or laundry to wash. Though he did enjoy putting the clothes in the washing machine and later in the dryer.

  Camille comes over to William, deciding to help with breakfast. It also gives her time to bond with William. Camille is street-wise and finds William intriguing. William is a good listener. When he speaks, he chooses his words carefully. The best way I can describe it is, you are at a party and you meet a high-price lawyer. Whatever subject you engage in, the lawyer is listening attentively.

  He really is not enjoying himself; instead, he is analyzing and finding holes to everything you say. Now imagine you come back several months later and you go to another party. Stressful week! You have a few cocktails to unwind. Wouldn’t you know, it’s the same lawyer? With a slight buzz on, you engage in a conversation with the lawyer. This time he interrupts you and says, “That is not what you said last time!” He walks away, making you feel like a fool.

  William is not spiteful. He would just listen and store everything you tell him. Scary, isn’t it? He missed his calling; he should have been a detective. Can you imagine how many cases he would solve? Then again, I should have been a professional tennis player. Hard to start at middle age with a potbelly.

  The morning is going smoothly so far. Ann has gotten a few hours of beauty sleep. (To her husband, she is always beautiful.) The sound of a crackling fire—and the sight of her new friends—makes for a nice start.

  “Morning, troops,” Ann said.

  “Morning,” both Camille and William replied.

  “Got to use the hole,” Ann said with a roll paper in her hand.

  “Got it,” Camille said as she raised her hand in acknowledgment. She was facing the fire, which means her back was to Ann.

  William also raised his hand in acknowledgment. Camille and Fred started to enjoy breakfast. William is breaking a few pieces of bread apart and slowly digesting them. With the amount that Fred consumes, he makes up for the two of them. As they were enjoying each other’s company, William looks up.

  He sees several youngsters on bicycles. They were staring at the Humvee and the movements of William, Fred, and Camille. Ann is out of sight, since the hole is behind the Humvee.

  “Ann,” William said in a deliberate but moderate tone.

  “What?” Ann replied with a loud and perturbed voice.

  “There are Chileans (slang for children) on the road,” William responded as he continued with his cooking.

  “Thanks, I will be there is a few minutes,” Ann responded.

  It took a good ten minutes, but Ann arrived at their little fire pit. She saw the children on the road. All told, there must have been at least six bikes. The ages seemed to vary between eight and f
ourteen years of age. To invite them down to eat might cause a stampede. Besides, they only packed food for just the four of them.

  Determined to enjoy their morning breakfast, they sat there for a good fifteen minutes. Just as Camille stood up, one of the children took off on his bike. Surely he is going to inform somebody of the military presence. Hopefully, it will be their parents and not a biker gang. Maybe in LA, biker gangs use children for runners, but not in the suburbs of the East Coast.

  “Time to pull up stakes,” Ann said in a measured tone. She carefully checked that her pistol is still holstered. She did not want to pull it out. She knew it would scare their new onlookers. Both in the military and police academy, they were taught to clean and take care of their firearms. Usually Ann does that right after breakfast. Today she used a little discretion. Eventually, when they stop for another break, she will clean her weapons.

  They all pull together as a team. William filled in the two holes. He also dismantled the little fire pit. Camille and Fred worked on taking the tents down. Everything needed to be folded and systematically loaded in the back of the Humvee. Remember that old info commercial, “Like it never happened”? This is their game plan.

  On the road, the children with their bikes just observed. Soon the lone biker returned with several adults. There was also another kid. He is just walking his bike. Seems like the back tire is low. The middle-aged adults look like a motley crew. The men were unshaven, and their hair looked like they had been in an electrical storm. The women seemed like they were having a bad hair day. They had wrinkled clothes, the type found in the bottom of a Salvation Army clothes bin. If they only had a couple of pitchforks, they could pose for a picture for an old farmer’s almanac, 1930s style.