EMP Survivors (Book 1): Destination Lost

by Christof, Norman

  Becky rested a hand on Casey's shoulder. "You'll be fine," she said. "All you can do is your best, and pray that it's enough. It's all any of us can do."

  Casey smiled. "Thanks, that helps."

  "We both know all about being new," William added. "We're actually still students. This is just a co-op job for us. I was pretty nervous when I started, and I certainly didn't have to try and save anyone's life my first day."

  "William," Becky scolded. "You're not helping. He's nervous enough without you pointing out the obvious."

  "Shoot, sorry. I was just trying to help."

  "Don't worry about it," Casey said. "I appreciate what it is you guys are trying to do. Really I do, and it helps. But it's going to eventually come down to me just doing my job. I need to stay focused and confident and not second guess myself. It would have been nice to have one of my crew here with me, but that's not what's happening, so I just need to suck it up and get it done."

  "Buckle up. Shut up. And get 'er done!" William said, with an encouraging fist pump.

  "Really, William?" Becky said, just shaking her head as she took the lead up the stairs.

  William stopped momentarily, lifting his hands in confusion. Casey patted him on the back as he walked past.

  "Don't worry, William. I get it." He smiled at him. "Really I do." He motioned towards Becky. "Let's keep up, we don't want to keep the lady waiting."

  After keeping a grueling pace with all the gear up the stairs, they finally reached the unfinished stairwells.

  "I see what you mean," Casey said. "This will be tricky, but I'm sure we can manage. I have just the right gear for the job." Casey opened one of the kits, and took what looked like mountain climbing gear out. "Once I get to the first landing, it'll get easier." He strapped himself into a harness, then got out some long spikes and a metal mallet. "These things will go into just about anything. They're supposed to be able to puncture steel, so this concrete will be easy." He hammered one of the spikes into the wall, then took the tether from his harness and clipped it to the first spike. He then crouched till his feet were off the ground and let the spike take all his weight. It gave some, but held. Casey then hammered more spikes higher and towards the next landing. His harness had two tethers, so as he put in a new spike, he'd attach his second tether to that, then release the first one, and move it to the next tether. "The trick," he said out loud, "is to make sure you have enough confidence in your staking to release the second tether. This is not so bad. It's not like I'm at the top of a mountain over a river thousands of feet below."

  "I guess when you put it that way, it doesn't seem so bad," Becky said, watching him intently.

  "Still, I'd prefer not to break a leg or turn an ankle in the attempt. It would most definitely make the rest of the mission that much more challenging."

  It took Casey about fifteen minutes, but eventually he made it to the first landing.

  "Tell me you don't expect me to do that," William said.

  "Not to worry, William," Casey said. "I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve." From his backpack, he pulled out a block and tackle with lines and a sling attached to the end. He secured the block and tackle to an exposed I-beam, and threw the end of the rope with the sling down to William. "Wrap the sling around that small kit first, then we'll move up to the bigger ones. When we've got all the kits up here, I'll send my harness down and pull each of you up."

  The first landing took them a little while to get everything and everyone over, but each successive one went quicker. With the block and tackle, moving three people was almost as quick as moving two.

  By the time they got to Wayne, he looked really bad; frail and gray. He hadn't moved from the time they'd left him.

  They'd barely set the gear down when Casey was at his side trying to find a pulse. Becky and William stood back, watching intently. William crossed his arms, and Becky wrapped one of her arms through William's. Casey seemed to be taking forever to find a pulse. He pulled a stethoscope out and placed it under Wayne's shirt.

  After several uncomfortable moments that seemed to last forever, Becky broke the silence. "Is he dead?"

  Casey held up a hand for silence. He moved the stethoscope around Wayne's chest, as if he didn't know where to place it.

  Becky looked up to William and whispered, "Is he?" William just shrugged his shoulders. "We took too long. We never should have left him alone."

  "We did everything we could. It's a disaster down there. No one was around."

  "One of us should have stayed with him. He went all alone. That's not right."

  William looked down at Becky. "We did the best we could. One of us alone couldn't have made it to Casey and back on our own." He pursed his lips. "We tried."

  "We should have tried harder." Becky sniffled.

  Casey started looking all around him, as if lost. "Where's the small red kit with the orange handle?"

  William pulled a kit matching Casey's description out of the stretcher. "This one?" He handed it to Casey.

  "Yes, open it for me. There's a mask and a small metal tank inside ... get it out." Casey opened Wayne's shirt, and moved the stethoscope further down over his abdomen.

  Becky asked again. "Is he ..."

  "Barely. Just barely alive." Casey put the mask over Wayne's face, and adjusted the flow of oxygen from the small tank. "He's got internal injuries, but I can't tell how severe. I need to stabilize him first, and then we'll have to get him out of here and to a hospital. I'm going to need both of you to help if he's going to live. A dose of luck wouldn't hurt either."

  Chapter 29 ~ All Alone

  Olaf kept one hand on the wheel and shouted back towards the short man. "You will immediately lower that weapon and hand it over. Instantly! I am the captain of this vessel, and I am the only one giving orders."

  The short man refused. "I will do no such thing. I have the gun. I'm in control now." The short man looked towards Garrett and Holly, who watched him intently. He knew they'd taken the gun from his partner.

  "He knows, doesn't he?" Holly asked.

  "Of course he knows. How couldn't he?" Garrett answered.

  "Then what's he doing? He has to know his gun isn't the only one on board."

  "He's counting on us thinking the same thing that he's thinking. He's counting on us being on his side."

  A few of the other crew members began moving towards the man, but he pointed the gun at each one in turn. They all froze.

  "That's crazy," Holly said.

  "Not as crazy as you might think. What would happen right now if we took a vote between staying put or heading for land?"

  "I don't know ... that man with the other family members--"

  "That man doesn't know the whole story. He doesn't know that no one is coming for us. No rescue mission. No Coast Guard. Nothing."

  "He still--"

  "He still couldn't do anything about it. The only logical decision here is to save ourselves. It's the only sane choice."

  The short man grew impatient. "There are extra fuel cans stored aboard this vessel. We have enough fuel to make it to the coast. Staying out here in this storm is suicide."

  Olaf stepped away from the driver's seat, focusing all his attention on the short man. "Sir, there isn't enough fuel. There are no extra storage cans of fuel. I need you to relax and just put the gun down. Everyone else on board here is doing their best to stay calm, and I need you to do the same." Olaf moved a few steps towards the short man. It was difficult with the rocking of the boat, but he managed. His sea legs were used to these kinds of conditions.

  "There're extra fuel cans here, because I put them here. Check in the lockers those people are sitting on." He motioned to the sides of the boat.

  "Those lockers contain extra life preservers, sir. There is no fuel stored there."

  "You." The short man looked directly at a petite girl sitting on one of the storage lockers. "Get up, girl!" he demanded. "Get up, and look under your locker." Everyone was staring intently at
the young girl.

  Olaf spoke. "Young lady, you don't have to do that. Just stay seated."

  "Hey!" the short man screamed at Olaf. "Don't test me. You are not in command of this vessel any longer." He waved his gun about. "I will use this. I will shoot you, and anyone else who ignores me." Olaf froze in his tracks, and looked to the young girl. He nodded his head silently in her direction, and she got up and raised the lid of the locker just slightly. Most of the people couldn't see, but the few around her could. They all looked back to Olaf.

  "He's right," she said. "There are fuel cans in here, but no life preservers." Passengers on the other side of the boat looked in the lockers under their seats, and they too acknowledged that there was in fact additional fuel.

  Olaf dropped his gaze, looking towards the floor. "This violates all maritime laws. You, sir," Olaf looked at the short man, "are guilty of mutiny. If in fact we do make it back to shore, and you don't end up killing us all, you will be prosecuted in court. I guarantee you that. I will be sure it happens."

  The female crew member spoke up. "Olaf, we don't have to do this. There are more people on this boat than him. He can't shoot all of us. We can't let him take charge." The other crew members nodded in agreement, as well as some of the passengers.

  The old man who had panicked earlier spoke. "My family is on those other boats. I can't just leave them behind. We need to wait for the Coast Guard. They'll rescue us. They'll know what to do." Other passengers started talking amongst themselves.

  "You're all idiots," the short man said aloud. "There's no one coming to rescue us. They can't. They're all too busy with their own problems. None of you know what's really going on here, do you?" He waved his gun towards each crew member, finally settling back on Olaf. "Even this straw captain. He doesn't know." The short man paused as everyone stared, waiting for him to finish. "We've been hit by a massive EMP strike. That's why the power in the entire ship died. That's why the ship couldn't move. That's why we got caught in this damn storm." He looked around at the disbelieving faces. "An EMP ... an electromagnetic pulse. You don't know what that is? This is the end of days. The Coast Guard won't be able to get to us. You know how many cruise ships and tankers are stranded out here in the middle of the ocean? There's no way. Even if the Coast Guard manage to get their boats working, they'll be swamped by problems. We're on our own here."

  "What about my family on those other boats?" the old man said. "I can't desert them."

  Damien, the boy who had told Holly and Garrett about his EMP suspicions in the first place, spoke up now. "He's right." Damien motioned to the man with the gun. "It's the only thing that makes sense. Nothing else could have disabled the cruise ship the way it did. I heard others talking about it before." He pointed at the short man. "This guy wasn't the only one. They knew what happened."

  "It's all true." Garrett spoke. He looked to Holly, but she wouldn't make eye contact. "None of us out here right now have much of a chance. No one knows how bad this storm will be, even Olaf here. The electronics have been down on the ship since the blast, and he's flying blind. We're lucky that the engines on this boat actually work."

  Another passenger spoke up. "If it's all true, about the EMP, then why do this boat's engines work, but the ones on the cruise ship don't?"

  The short man spoke up. "Because they're simpler. They don't rely on the fancy electronics that the big ship uses."

  "This guy is right," Garrett said. "He's right, but we shouldn't trust him. He and his buddy were planning on taking this boat themselves, and leaving everyone behind. They snuck the extra fuel on board, and made sure the engines were working. They'd planned on being long gone before the captain ordered the evacuation, but they ran out of time."

  "Shut up," the short man said. "You don't know anything."

  Olaf spoke up. "This is ridiculous."

  "I agree, Captain, but you really don't have a choice," Garrett said. "You know it's the only thing that makes sense." Many of the passengers were nodding in agreement with what Garrett said. "We can't stay here."

  As the short man, Garrett and Olaf debated the situation, two of the other crew members managed to work their way into the short man's blind spot. He never saw them coming as they rushed him, but he managed to get a shot off. The crew members tackled him, and as they fell amongst other passengers, the short man lost his grip on the gun. It landed at his feet, and wedged itself against a seat support. The crew members couldn't reach it, but the short man could. Just as he was about to retrieve the gun, the boat rocked hard to one side, and the gun slid away. It landed at the feet of the old man who had panicked about being separated from his family. The old man reached down and picked up the gun. He looked up, intending to hand the weapon to Captain Olaf

  , but the captain was nowhere in sight.

  Olaf was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. The single bullet fired from the gun had hit the left side of his chest, and lodged in his heart. He died instantly. Several passengers screamed, while most were silent.

  Holly noticed the old man holding the gun, and made her way to him. She stayed low as she moved, maintaining her balance against the rocking. She knelt at the old man's feet, and looked up to him. "I want to stay too, but they're right. We can't stay here. We have to save the ones we can ... at least, we have to try." She held her hand out to him. He had tears in his eyes as he handed her the gun.

  "They're the only family I have left," he said hoarsely. "I'll be all alone."

  "No you won't. You have all of us. We're all in this together."

  Chapter 30 ~ Choices

  The hospital was the polar opposite of the construction site. Normally that would be a good thing, but right now, the world was anything but normal. They'd gone from a strangely quiet construction site to a chaotic, overcrowded and noisy hospital. Things were being turned upside down. The hospital hallway that Becky stood in was anything but quiet and ordered. There were gurneys crowding the hallway, and they weren't ordered. Most were placed up against the walls to keep the center clear for traffic. There just so many of them that some were double parked. Becky thought, how ironic for a city that issued more double parking tickets than anywhere else.

  Wayne lay on one of the gurneys, and still wasn't conscious. He'd been like that ever since they'd found him at the skyscraper. A doctor looked at him briefly, said his injuries weren't urgent and he'd get a nurse to administer some medication. Becky waited for almost two hours for the nurse to show up. If Wayne's injuries weren't urgent, she didn't want to see the patients whose injuries were. When the nurse finally showed up, she looked like she hadn't slept in days. She barely spoke to Becky. When she left, Wayne was hooked up to an IV drip from a bag with a sticker on it that said propofol. The one thing the nurse said to Becky was that she may as well go home, because Wayne wouldn't be awake for a very long time. The drug she gave him was meant to keep him in a coma while his body healed. Becky had a bad feeling that they just didn't have time to take care of him.

  She wanted to leave. She wanted to get out of the place, but staring down the hallway made her feel guilty. Every single gurney had a patient on it, all the way down to the end of the hall. There were only two other people besides her that weren't lying on a gurney. None of the other patients had anyone there with them. They were all alone. Somehow, they'd managed to get to the hospital, but there was no one there to be with them. If they were unconscious like Wayne, it wouldn't have seemed so bad, but most of them weren't. They were either staring at the ceiling, or moaning in pain. How could this be happening? Becky wondered. She could only remember being in a hospital a couple times in her life. Once to get her tonsils out, and one time when her grandma was really sick. Both times, the hospitals had been such an orderly place. The staff had been very nice and helpful. This hospital felt more like a horror show. She had to get out, even if just for a few minutes.

  She put her hand on Wayne's arm. It felt cold, so she moved it to his chest. It moved enough to convince her that he was
breathing, but not enough to give her hope. He didn't seem to be improving.

  "Wayne." At the sound of Becky's voice, an elderly lady rolled over and watched Becky. "Wayne, I don't know if you can hear me, but I have to go out for a little bit. Don't worry though, I will come back. I just need to check on a few things, and maybe find something to eat. I will be back ... I promise." She squeezed his arm, and headed off down the hall. The older lady followed Becky with her eyes as she disappeared from sight. She looked back at Wayne, and his IV bag slowly dripping into his arm. Tears flowed from her eyes onto the sterile white hospital sheets as she fell asleep whispering to herself.

  William stood outside the emergency entrance to the hospital, watching the lineup of people that extended down the sidewalk past the well-manicured garden. Some sat on the ground waiting for the line to move. None complained. They were silent, and looking resolved to wait for as long as it took. A panhandler had set up camp on a rock in the garden. Everyone in line walked past the panhandler. She was middle aged, with long, unkempt blond hair. William couldn't hear what she was saying, but she talked to every single person that walked past her. Some talked with her, some gave her money, but most ignored her. Those ones she talked to the most. They'd do their best to avoid eye contact with the panhandler, but she'd keep talking and smiling. The looks on the faces of those within earshot told William that whatever she had to say was pretty funny. They were grinning or outright laughing. He wondered if she was asking for money, or just trying to make everyone feel better.

  He was about to sneak closer, to eavesdrop, when Becky walked up.

  "How's he doing?" William asked. "Any change?"

  "None." Becky crossed her arms against the chill of the night.

  "Have the nurses been around to check on him?"

  "No. Not since they hooked him up to that IV. No nurses, no doctors, no janitors. The only people in that hallway are the patients, and a couple of family members. It's downright depressing."