EMP Survivors (Book 1): Destination Lost

by Christof, Norman

  "Electrical discharges from submerged cables? I'm no engineer, but that sounds like a bunch of malarkey to me. Cables malfunctioning enough to leak current into the water likely wouldn't be in service for very long."

  "Do they even transmit electricity through underwater cables? I thought cables were just for communication. Phone and Internet signals. Those couldn't be strong enough to disable an entire cruise ship. It does sound like a bunch of malarkey to me as well."

  "The good thing is that the majority of passengers don't seem too upset about the entire thing. They seem to believe what the captain said."

  "You think that's a good thing?" Holly looked confused. "That doesn't make a lot of sense. If what the captain said isn't true, then we need to let people know. The more the better."

  "No, absolutely not. We're on a disabled cruise ship in the middle of the ocean. The last thing we need is for mutiny to break out. If everyone starts revolting, there'll be no place to hide. The captain knows that too. I'm pretty willing to bet that if he hadn't been able to convince us that things were under control, he had a backup plan."

  "Like what? Handcuff everyone and send us to the brig? There are like four thousand people on this ship. I don't think they have a brig quite big enough."

  "No, they wouldn't, but it doesn't mean they don't have some way of confining people to a section of the ship, and keeping them there."

  "That's pretty scary. I don't like the sound of that."

  "It's maritime law out here. What the captain says goes. Anyone that doesn't fall in line could be in for a rough cruise."

  "How? I haven't seen a single security officer or policeman since I've been on board."

  "No, and until there's an incident, you won't. It doesn't mean they're not here. They'll be undercover, travelling as passengers, just like us."

  "Yeah, I suppose. Just like air marshals. Still, there won't be enough to control everyone."

  "You're right. That's why the captain came and spoke to all of us first. Diplomacy before force is always a good strategy to start off with when you're heavily outnumbered."

  "I wonder what's really going on. I wonder if the captain really knows what's going on."

  A young voice from behind them spoke up. "It's an EMP blast."

  Both Holly and Garrett turned to see a teenage boy standing behind the bar drinking a pina colada from a bright pink curvy glass with a curly straw.

  "Are you supposed to be back there?" Garrett asked.

  "Nobody was paying attention while Captain Oh-So-Full-Of-It was lying, so I figured I'd help myself.

  "Are you even old enough to be drinking? Is there alcohol in that drink?"

  "Um, no, and yes ... lots of it. If the world is coming to an end, I should be able to drink if I want to. My parents let me at home, and to answer your next question ..." He looked right at Holly. "No, they don't know where I am, and I don't know where they are. The main reason I think they like going on cruises is that they don't feel obligated to watch me, and they know I can't really go anywhere."

  "What's your name?" Garrett asked.

  "Damien," the boy answered, pulling his long red bangs back out of his eyes.

  "How old are you, Damien?" Holly asked.

  "Sixteen."

  "No you're not."

  "In a few days I will be."

  "No. I don't think so." Garrett spoke up. A few of the other passengers were taking notice of their conversation, and listening to what Damien had to say.

  "What's an EMP?" a mother with a baby asked.

  Damien started to answer, but before he could, Garrett grabbed him by the arm, and took the three of them away from the crowd and the young mother. They stopped by the rail, where they could be alone.

  "You don't need to be saying that kind of thing to everyone," Garrett warned Damien, who just sipped his drink.

  "What is an EMP?" Holly asked Damien, who raised his eyes to Garrett over his drink.

  Garrett answered, "It's an electrical magnetic pulse. They can occur naturally, or be manmade, and basically knock out every electrical device in the area."

  "Permanently?"

  "Generally, yes. At least until things can be repaired or replaced."

  "So, if they occur naturally, why wouldn't the captain just say it was an EMP?"

  Damien jumped in. "Because, the manmade ones are the result of a nuclear bomb." They both stared at him without saying a thing. "That's right. A terrorist attack. The captain thinks we've been attacked by terrorists, and that if he says too much, everyone will panic and then things will just get worse. That's why he lied."

  Damien finished his drink, then started to head back towards the bar before Garrett pulled him back.

  "How do you know so much about this stuff?" Garrett asked.

  "Why wouldn't I? Look, just because I'm a kid, doesn't mean I don't know things. I can read." Both Holly and Garrett shook their heads at him. "There's this thing called the Internet. You've heard of it, right? Exactly how old are you people?" Neither Holly nor Garrett answered.

  "Alright, alright. I heard some guys talking in the back of the crowd when the captain was talking. They said that the captain was full of it, and that this had to be an EMP ... and a bunch of other stuff ... terrorists and all of that."

  "That was it? That's all that they said?"

  "Let me get another drink first. Then I'll tell you some more." Damien looked towards the bar.

  "No more drinks," Holly insisted.

  "Fine," Damien said, looking down and shuffling his feet. "They said the captain was lying, and had no idea what was going on. They said that they were going to do something about it, but had to get back to their rooms first."

  "Back to their rooms?" Holly looked to Garrett. "They wouldn't have weapons in their rooms, would they?"

  "Unlikely. There's no way they could have got them past security. It's still not good though. The last thing we need is a bunch of people getting riled up and confronting the crew."

  "Should we report it to the captain?"

  "We don't know who they are, or what they look like. I don't know how helpful the information would be."

  "At least they'd have a heads up. Damien here could give a description, then their security staff force could take it from there."

  Damien tried backing away, but they each took him by the arm, and headed for the bridge.

  Chapter 8 ~ Help

  Becky and William were both terrified to move, but at least the floor had stopped shaking. Neither one spoke as they stood. They couldn't remember if they'd been knocked to the floor or huddled next to the largest concrete pillar under their own power. The helicopter crashing, the collapsing cranes, and the explosion had taken less than a few minutes, but they were both exhausted from the events. The helicopter still smoldered several floors above them.

  "What the hell just happened?" William asked.

  "I'm not sure," Becky answered. "The cranes just started collapsing. The loads must have been too heavy for them."

  "Some are still up. I can see them."

  "Wait, something happened just before the cranes collapsed. There was an explosion, or something hit us hard."

  "Was it the first crane collapsing? It must have been. What else could have hit us way up here?"

  Their eyes met as both their minds raced back to the stories their parents had told them of 9/11. They were too young to remember the events themselves, but every American knew what happened that day.

  "Terrorists?" William asked.

  "But we're still standing," Becky said. "Why would anyone attack an unfinished skyscraper? That makes no sense."

  "Maybe they missed? Maybe they got shot down?"

  "There's no way this building could stand an attack like the one that took out the World Trade Center. This one isn't even finished; it's not nearly strong enough. It would have crumbled by now."

  Realizing how remote the possibility that they were under attack was didn't deter William from stating the obvious.
"We need to get out of here. It's not safe. What if there's another attack? Like before. That could just be the first one. We have to get to the ground."

  They started to move towards the construction elevator when Becky grabbed him by the arm. "Wait. Do you hear that?"

  William shook his head. "Becky, it doesn't matter. The building is probably still shifting from the impact. We need to go."

  "Shh. Listen. It's voices. Someone's calling for help." She pulled William back towards the empty elevator shaft that ran through the center of the building. The sound of a voice got clearer.

  "Help! Help me. Someone? Is anyone there? I can't move. Hurry, please."

  It was several floors up, and coming through the shaft.

  "Hello!" William called back up the shaft. "We hear you. Just hang on. We're coming."

  Becky looked at William. "Was that our boss Wayne? It sounded like him."

  William hollered back up the shaft again. "Wayne? Wayne? Is that you? It's William. I'm here with Becky. Wayne?"

  There was no answer. William tried calling again, but still no answer.

  "He's in trouble. We have to get up there," Becky said. "The construction elevator."

  They raced to the elevator, and were about to enter when William said, "Wait."

  "What? We need to get up there. He needs help. There could be others as well. Whatever hit could have hit on the floor he was on. We have to go."

  "Yes, I know, but we should check the elevator first. Make sure it's OK. It could have been damaged as well."

  William grabbed the side rails of the elevator and gave it a good shake, while Becky did a visual inspection all along the safety mesh and down the track it rode on.

  "I don't see anything wrong, but we won't know till we try it."

  "Yeah, alright. Let's give it a go. Should we both get in? I mean, if there's something wrong, and we both get in, then we're both in trouble. Would it make sense, maybe--"

  "I'm not going on my own, and you're sure as hell not leaving me here alone. We both get in."

  William nodded his head nervously as Becky gave him a look that said this wasn't negotiable. They climbed in together, closed the safety latch, moved the direction switch to up and pressed the power button.

  Nothing happened.

  Becky moved the switch again from down to up, and pressed the power button.

  Again, nothing.

  William tried as well with no luck.

  "I think there's supposed to be a manual override on this thing." They looked around the cage. "There, on the side."

  There was a hand crank next to the main controls. It moved slowly, but it moved. William started turning the wheel, which gradually moved them up. Becky pitched in and they moved a little faster. It wasn't quick, but they were moving.

  It took them nearly twenty minutes to get to the top finished floor. Fifteen floors from where they had started. They were both perspiring, and grateful for the light breeze.

  "Can you smell that?" Becky asked.

  "Yes, something's burning. Like gasoline or electrical wiring. I'm not sure."

  "I've never smelled a gasoline fire. I'm not sure what it would smell like."

  "Hello!" William called out as the elevator cage got just high enough for them to see the top floor. They'd been calling every few minutes or so, but no one had answered. The voices had stopped since the initial calls through the elevator shaft. Then, they heard the voice again.

  "William. Becky. Hello, is that you?" the voice called out. It was weak and distant, but they could hear it.

  "We're coming," Becky called out. "Just hang on. We're almost there. Just hang on." She turned to William, and they both cranked faster with renewed enthusiasm. The whole trip up, they'd both been having second thoughts, but neither one wanted to say anything. Every instinct in their body told them that going up wasn't good. They wanted to plant their feet on the ground, but they'd both heard the pleas for help, and weren't willing to give up, even when they hadn't heard anyone for a while. Now, they cranked the manual wheel even faster.

  Stepping onto the top floor was a shock. It looked like a war zone. A war zone suspended high above the safety of terra firma. It looked like it was about to implode. There were dozens of I-beams scattered around the floor, as if thrown about by a child. There, just on the other side of the main elevator shaft, was the wreckage of the helicopter. It seemed so out of place and surreal that neither one of them could believe it was there. The boom from one of the fallen cranes lying across the helicopter added to the bizarreness of the scene. The fire from the burnt fuel had gone out, with nothing left to burn, but the smoke still wafted through the air. All around the helicopter, the debris was black and charred. The windscreen was totally smashed. They were motionless, just staring at the scene, unsure of what to do next.

  Becky was the first to make out the flight helmet and flight suit of the pilot. "Is that who was calling for help?"

  "No, can't be. He's been gone for a while. There." William pointed towards the end of the fallen crane boom, away from the crashed copter. "Wayne!"

  They both rushed over to where Wayne was wedged between the end of the boom and broken chunks of concrete. He wasn't moving. Becky knelt down and put two fingers on his throat. William put his ear next to Wayne's mouth.

  "He's breathing, I think. Just barely."

  "Yes, there's a pulse."

  "Wayne. Can you hear me?" Becky said.

  Wayne's eyes fluttered, and he tried to raise his head, but couldn't, as his chin remained slumped on his chest. He was sitting with his back against a pillar, and the crane boom across both his legs. His right leg was twisted at a completely unnatural angle that indicated it had to be broken.

  Becky put her hand on Wayne's shoulder. "Wayne, I don't know if you can hear me, but you just need to hang on. We're going to get you out of here. Don't worry. You're going to be OK. We've got the construction elevator here. We'll get you to the ground, and get you to a doctor. You just have to hang in there, OK?"

  Wayne's eyes fluttered once more.

  "Look around," William said. "There's got to be something here to help us get the boom off of him."

  They started walking the floor, scanning for anything that could help.

  "That thing's got to weigh a ton. How are we ever going to move it off him?" Becky asked.

  "We just have to move it enough to wiggle him out. Just a couple of inches. There must be some tools around here the crew were using that could help."

  "Where are the crew? I don't see anyone else."

  "We would have seen them by now if there was. They would have been helping Wayne."

  "There had to be men here. Why else would the cranes have been lifting loads up here? They'd need workers to handle setting the loads down. It doesn't make sense."

  They both paused, looking up. William spoke first. "They likely would have been working up on the unfinished beams above. If they were up there when the copter came down, they could have been thrown anywhere. Off the edge?" Becky started to shake, and William reached to hold her. "Or crushed under the copter."

  "We need to focus on helping Wayne right now, OK? Let's just do that first. One thing at a time. We get Wayne out, then we check the floor for others. K?"

  "OK." William let go, and they resumed their search.

  Chapter 9 ~ Frying Pan

  "You don't understand, we need to speak with the captain," Garrett tried to explain.

  The three of them were standing in the hallway just outside the main bridge of the ship. They were debating with one of the officers stationed outside the door. He was big enough to be an NFL linebacker, and smart enough to follow orders.

  "I'm sorry, sir," the officer said. "The captain is very busy now, dealing with getting the ship functioning properly. I'm going to have to ask you to vacate this hallway. Kindly return to the public deck areas where you are allowed."

  "You don't understand." Holly tried now. "There were some people that we think are goin
g to cause problems for everyone on board. They think that we're under some sort of terrorist attack, and they plan on taking matters into their own hands."

  "Thank you, ma'am, but I'm sure the security personnel have things under control." The officer didn't even make eye contact with Holly. He stared straight down the hall.

  "He's not listening to me," Holly said to Garrett, as if the officer wasn't even there. "I don't believe he's even going to tell the captain that we were here. He's not taking us seriously at all."

  "Sergeant," Garrett said.

  "I'm not a sergeant, sir, I'm just a bosun. We don't have sergeants on board."

  "Fine. Bosun. This young man ..." Garrett motioned to Damien, who was slouched in the hallway, stealing glances into the bridge.

  "Sir," the officer interrupted while looking at Damien. "Please step back from the door. You're blocking access to the bridge."

  "Whatever," Damien answered as he slid down the wall a few steps.

  Garrett resumed his plea. "I don't think you're understanding the importance of our concerns. There were other people that overheard these men talking. They believed, as did many around them, that the problems we're having are the direct result of a terrorist attack. People are going to start to panic, and those men are going to be the start of it. If the captain and his crew aren't going to take care of this, then others will have to."

  "What exactly is it that you're suggesting, sir? Are you planning on instigating a riot aboard this vessel?"

  "No no no." Garret raised his voice. "I'm telling you that if I don't speak with the captain right away, you could be responsible for allowing things to get totally out of control."

  While the officer was distracted with Garrett, Holly tried sneaking past him to get through the bridge door. She didn't get very far, as the big officer moved surprisingly quickly to block her, and bumped Holly rather ungracefully into the wall.

  Garrett instantly went chest to chest with the officer, addressing him in a very loud voice. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing, running a woman over like that? There was no reason whatsoever for that behavior. I now demand to speak with the captain about this behavior. This is totally unacceptable, that you would treat a passenger in this manner."