PULSE: An Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (Little Rocket Man Book 1)

by Keith Taylor

  “Oh, those poor people,” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat as the tears began to flow.

  “What people? What happened?”

  “Why would they do that to them?”

  “What?! Jesus, Abi, tell me what happened!”

  Abi took a shuddering breath and wiped the tears from her eyes, her gaze still fixed on the truck in the parking lot.

  “They killed all the civilians. Just shot them dead, even the ones who weren’t fighting back.” She turned to Shepherd and gripped his arm, her eyes wide and wet with tears.

  “What the fuck is happening here, Shepherd?”

  ΅

  :::19:::

  DARKNESS HAD FALLEN by the time Shepherd guided the truck back to the gravel trail by the railroad track, and it was only when he’d made it a half mile from the road that the feeling that people were following just out of sight began to fade.

  He flipped the headlights off, plunging the Jeep into darkness, and at a slow crawl he drove on in contemplative silence. All the way Abi stared out the window into the middle distance, seemingly reliving what she’d seen in the parking lot. Since she’d told him the story the only words she’d spoken were “Why would they do that? Why would anyone do that?”

  Shepherd didn’t have the first clue, but he couldn’t help but think of his friends on the prepper forums he’d often visited over the last few years. He’d always thought that many of them took their dire predictions of a future apocalypse just a little too seriously. A time or two he’d even gently mocked a couple of forum buddies for their earnestness, but he had to admit that they’d been right on the money about everything that had happened so far. They’d predicted that people would turn to violence on day one of an EMP attack. They’d predicted that it would happen as quickly as flipping a switch; that enough people would go straight into survival mode that everyone else would have no choice but to do the same. Shepherd had always assumed they were just misanthropic curmudgeons who needed to restore their faith in their fellow man, but it turned out they were completely right.

  And now it turned out their warnings about martial law may be right, too.

  At least once every couple of weeks since Shepherd had joined the forums someone had posted a dire warning that the government was eager for any pretext to declare martial law and put the US under military rule. It didn’t seem to matter whether the President of the time was a Democrat or Republican, man or woman, saint or sinner. It was just taken as Gospel on the forums that the government would love the chance to crush the American people beneath a military boot heel, using any sort of disaster as an excuse to take their guns, their land, or whatever else they wanted that they couldn’t get during times of peace.

  Shepherd had always found that idea a little hard to swallow. For one thing he was pretty confident that if the government really wanted to take something from the people it’d be easy enough for them to find some legal means of screwing them with their pants on. Hell, the government had the police, the courts and the fucking IRS on the payroll. They didn’t need to use overt violence to get what they wanted, just as respectable banks didn’t need to threaten to break the legs of debtors. Breaking people through the terms of their contract was much easier, and much less messy than taking a bat to their knees.

  But the forum members were completely convinced. They were sure the US was always just moments away from seeing troops in the streets, and in defense of their argument they constantly brought up the fact that in 2006 President Obama had signed an amendment to the Insurrection Act that had made the declaration of martial law laughably easy.

  For more than a century the federal government had been severely limited in its ability to use the military for domestic law enforcement. Both the Posse Comitatus Act and the Insurrection Act meant that there were only a few very specific situations for which martial law could be declared, but in 2006 that all changed with the stroke of a pen.

  The new wording of the Insurrection Act allowed the President to declare martial law in any state as a result of a terrorist attack, a natural disaster, a public health emergency, or – and this was the part that made the forum members so fearful – some vague, unspecified other condition in which the state was incapable of maintaining public order. Essentially it allowed the government to unilaterally dispatch the US Army to any state in which civilian law enforcement was unable to keep the peace.

  Naturally Shepherd had dismissed the fears of the preppers out of hand, assuming that years of preparing for the worst had – just like it had Shep Senior – left them paranoid, seeing enemies in their Corn Flakes and assuming the worst of a government that was certainly bumbling and inefficient, but probably not tyrannical.

  And yet… The way Abi had described the attack he couldn’t think of any other explanation other than that they’d been absolutely right. Soldiers had climbed out of a military vehicle and executed US citizens in cold blood. They hadn’t been ambushed. Their lives hadn’t been threatened. They chose to approach the civilians, and the moment one of them raised a gun the bullets started flying.

  Shepherd could understand why soldiers might need to defend themselves against an armed assault. If they were tasked with keeping the peace it was understandable that they’d respond with lethal force – yes, even against US citizens – if those civilians came out shooting. He didn’t like it, but he could at least understand it.

  But he couldn’t understand why they’d also killed the civilians who weren’t armed. Civilians who weren’t firing on them. Even in the most terrifying and confusing war zones US soldiers were trained only to fire on those who posed an immediate threat. They weren’t trained – and they weren’t authorized – to fire on innocent civilians whose only crime was to be standing near an enemy. If that was accepted military doctrine we’d never even bother sending ground troops into a war zone. We’d simply bomb it into the ground and stroll in afterwards to pick through the bodies of enemies and civilians alike.

  So why had they killed them? Try as he might, Shepherd just couldn’t work out what was going on.

  “I said do you think this is far enough?”

  Shepherd was shaken from his thoughts. “Huh? Oh, yeah, this should be fine for the night.” He pulled the Jeep to the edge of the forest beside the trail and killed the engine. “Are you OK sleeping in the truck? I don’t think it’s a good idea to pitch the tent, just in case we need to leave in a hurry.”

  Abi nodded. “Sure. I don’t think I’d be able to sleep if I couldn’t see what was going on anyway. You wanna…” She lifted the Best Buy basket from her lap.

  “Oh yeah, sure.” Shepherd took it from her, passing her a handful of candy bars and grabbing one for himself. “Probably not a great idea to light a fire either, so we’ll have to keep running on sugar just a little while longer.”

  Abi attempted a chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “Fine by me. I don’t think I could stomach real food anyway.”

  Shepherd took a bite of a Snickers as he unboxed the weather radio, handing the empty box to Abi as he pried open a pack of batteries.

  “Is this the shortwave?”

  “Uh uh. This is a NOAA radio. If we’re very lucky there may be a transmitter within range that’s been EMP hardened and has backup power. If so we might get a few details about what’s going on with the military.”

  “Who’s Noah, and why does he have his own radio?”

  “It’s not a name, it’s an acronym. It’s the… umm… the National Oceanic and… you know, I actually don’t remember what it stands for. Something to do with the weather service. It’s an automated radio network that broadcasts weather reports 24 hours a day. The US has about a thousand transmitters dotted around the country, all of them spitting out weather forecasts on a loop, but the network is also hooked up to the Emergency Alert System. The idea is that when the shit hits the fan the government will still be able to broadcast information even if all the regular communication channels are out of commission. W
e’ll probably hear nothing but static, but it’s worth at least trying.”

  Shepherd pushed two AA batteries into the radio and flipped the switch.

  Nothing happened.

  “Shit, it’s dead.” He pulled out the batteries and tossed the radio out the window, quickly unboxing the next. “Second time lucky,” he said, pushing in the batteries.

  Again, nothing.

  “OK, third time’s the charm. Come on, you bastard. Work. Work.” He grabbed the third radio, pushed the batteries into the slot and flipped the switch.

  The LCD flicked on, bathing the truck in a dim green glow.

  “Yes! OK, gimme a signal.” He turned the dial slowly, pausing at each of the seven frequencies printed on the front of the radio. At each one a black circle appeared beside the frequency on the LCD readout, and at each one Shepherd heard nothing but oddly modulating static, the hiss rising and falling every couple of seconds like a wave hitting the shore, then receding.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Or at least I don’t think there’s anything wrong. We’re just not in range of a hardened transmitter right now, but it was a long shot anyway. NOAA transmits at such a high frequency it relies on line of sight, so we’d need to be within maybe forty miles of a live transmitter to pick anything up.” He flicked off the radio, reached across Abi and tossed it in the glove compartment. “At least we know it’s working. Maybe we’ll pick up a signal tomorrow.”

  “What about the shortwave? Maybe we’ll have better luck.”

  Shepherd was already unpacking the first of the shortwave radios, but he shook his head doubtfully. “Don’t get your hopes up too high, I think it may still be too soon. Shortwave signals can travel much further than the high frequency band used by NOAA because they can bounce off the ionosphere, so they kind of skip their way around the earth, but there’s a catch. An EMP screws with the ionosphere for a little while. Depending on the strength of the pulse we might not be able to pick up a signal until tomorrow. But heck, why not try anyway, right?”

  He pulled the cheap looking gray radio from the box, and he was happy to see that the telescopic antenna was of the screw on variety, separated from the unit and tucked in a clear plastic wrapper. This is exactly what he’d been hoping for when he chose the cheap plasticky version. More expensive models tended to have all sorts of complex, delicate circuitry and integrated antennas, but this was more like a starter radio, the sort you’d give a curious kid who hopped from hobby to hobby as often as he changed his underwear. It was as basic as you could get, which would only make it more likely to have survived the pulse.

  Shepherd pushed in the batteries, screwed in the antenna and pulled it out to its full length, holding his breath as he flipped the power switch.

  Static.

  “Aw crap,” Abi sighed, slumping her shoulders.

  Shepherd shook his head. “No, this is good. It works, but it just isn’t tuned to a station. Hold up a sec.” He delicately turned the frequency dial, listening carefully to the waves and whistles of static from the tinny speakers. He watched as the analog dial shifted bit by bit across the spectrum, and when it finally hit the upper limit he teased it back the other way, even more slowly this time.

  “Are you getting any—”

  “Shhh, quiet! Listen.”

  At the very edge of his perception, hidden in an ugly mess of hissing static, Shepherd thought he heard something.

  “Am I crazy or is that a voice?”

  Abi leaned in. “No, I hear it too! It sounds like some British woman. Can you make out what she’s saying?”

  Shepherd shook his head and brought the set up to his ear, gently turning the dial in an attempt to pick it out more clearly. “Shit, I’m losing it. Either way I turn it the signal just gets weaker.” He pushed open the door and climbed out of the truck, holding the radio high in the air as he stood. “Nah, no better. I think these trees might be screwing with the reception. We need to get to higher ground.” He turned back to Abi and leaned into the truck, taking the Glock from the dash. “You in the mood to go for a walk?”

  Abi sighed. “Would it make any difference if I said no?”

  “No, not even a little. Grab the flashlight from the glove box.” He looked around, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The night was dark, with just the barest sliver of the waxing moon casting a dim light on the ground. Shepherd could hardly see a thing, but as his eyes began to settle into the darkness he looked up at the sky and gasped.

  “My God, I’ve never seen the stars so bright!” He gazed up in wonder at the clear night sky, awed by the spectacle of the Milky Way carving a bright clustered line across the blackness. Even growing up in the boondocks he’d never seen it this clearly. There was always something to temper the clarity of the stars, whether it was a nearby streetlight or the dim glow of a distant town, but now… Now there may not be a single artificial light brighter than a flashlight within a hundred miles, and the majesty of the universe had once again taken center stage.

  “It’s beautiful,” Abi whispered, awestruck. “We hardly ever see more than a handful of stars in D.C., the lights are so bright. It’s easy to forget this is even out there, isn’t it?”

  They stood in silence for a long moment taking in the view before the low hissing from the radio brought them back down to earth. Shepherd flipped the switch and tucked it in his jacket pocket, took the flashlight from Abi’s hand and set off into the trees.

  “Stay close,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I don’t want to turn on the flashlight unless we really need it.”

  Abi reached out and took his hand, allowing Shepherd to lead the way through the undergrowth.

  “Damn it,” she hissed, struggling to keep up. “I thought I was done with the woods today.”

  ΅

  :::20:::

  IT TOOK FIFTEEN minutes of stumbling and clambering before they reached higher ground, a small clearing in the trees at the top of a nearby rise. Shepherd was sweating from the effort, and he was amazed when he turned to look back the way they’d come and saw that the edge of the forest was only a couple hundred yards away. He could still see the roof of the truck gleaming in the dim moonlight.

  “If we get through this in one piece I’m working daily cardio into my schedule,” he panted, falling to the grass and tugging the radio from his jacket.

  “You and me both,” Abi agreed, dropping herself beside him like a sack of potatoes. “I should probably quit smoking, too.”

  Shepherd laughed. “Hey, let’s not throw the baby out with the bathwater. I’m guessing cigarettes will be one of the few pleasures we’ll be able to enjoy until the country pulls itself back together. They won’t be making any new Big Macs for a while, but the cigarettes won’t go bad any time soon.” He pulled his Marlboros from a pocket and lit one, squinting in the sudden brightness as the match flared.

  “Shit, there goes my night vision.” He extended the radio antenna and took a long pull on his cigarette before switching it on. “Here goes.”

  Static, just like before. The frequency must have shifted in his pocket. He gently worked the dial, moving it slowly back to where he’d found the signal, and he froze as the British woman’s voice returned, still buried in static but much clearer this time.

  … high alert, the Prime Minister has today chaired an emergency COBRA session to formulate…

  “Go back, go back,” Abi said, leaning in closer.

  “I didn’t touch the dial,” Shepherd replied, moving his hand away as if she might suspect he was lying. “The signal’s just dropping out. Must be the—”

  … currently unclear who holds command of US overseas forces while the status of the administration is unknown. Constitutional experts are split on the matter, though many have argued that were the Twenty Fifth Amendment to come into play Warren Wells, the 53 year old Acting Secretary of Commerce, would be next in line to the Presidency as the most senior living representative of the government. Secre
tary Wells, who was en route to Madrid for the weekend’s UN trade summit, is tenth in the Presidential order of succession, though the recent revelation of his struggles with early onset dementia have left many unsure whether he would be able to…

  “Fuck,” Shepherd hissed under his breath, shifting the antenna as the signal faded. “Come on. Come back.” The signal drifted in and out, and when it finally returned strong enough to hear the voice had switched to a British man.

  … Of course talks are ongoing, and they will continue through the night and no doubt into the weekend. If there is any way – any way whatsoever – that this can be resolved without conflict then of course we would prefer to take that path, though it should be clear from recent events that there exists very little trust or good will between our governments, and at the moment it seems difficult to envision a purely diplomatic solution…

  “Come on, give us some damned information.”

  … Thank you for your time, Mr. Prime Minister. That was British Prime Minister Charles Ingram in Madrid, where he has been locked in discussions throughout the day with fellow European leaders in an effort to broker a truce with the regime in Pyongyang. We earlier learned that Chinese Premier Xi Jinping had agreed to meet with North Korean leader Kim Jong-un later today, though according to unconfirmed reports from our East Asia correspondent the regime has so far refused to respond to contact from Beijing. If the lack of response is intentional this would represent an unprecedented breakdown in communications with the…

  Shepherd crushed his cigarette butt angrily into the grass as he waited for the signal to return.

  … growing concern for the lives of the 340 million who are now without power or communications across the continental United States and the southern Provinces of Canada. While world leaders focus on regaining control over the rogue North Korean regime following today’s attack they are also faced with what must surely be the largest humanitarian crisis in history. Already the world’s navies have dispatched their fleets to the east and west coasts to begin mass evacuations, joined by several thousand civilian craft including the Disney cruise fleet and over 400 container ships volunteered by the Danish shipping line Maersk. With experts predicting that it could take several years to fully restore power to the continent it will be a race against time to deliver aid and evacuate as many as…