NightFall

by Roger Hayden

  Not much more came over the radio. There were continual advisements for residents to stay inside their homes, almost as if that was the government’s only plan. But it beyond that, they weren’t any closer to finding out who was behind the EMP and why. The time wasn’t right and the government wasn’t speaking. There would be no real answers for some time.

  Twenty miles from the cabin, Kelly was knocked out, resting after some Ibuprofen Mila had given her. Josh stared out the window as Mila dug through her purse.

  “Damn it. Forgot our passports.”

  “Don’t worry, I grabbed them,” Rob said.

  “Oh,” Mila said, relieved. “Thank you.”

  “What do we need passports for?” Josh asked.

  Rob’s eyes looked into the rear-view mirror. “Just in case we have to leave the country.”

  “You’re serious?” Josh asked.

  Their lack of response told Josh all he needed to know.

  Mila looked out the window, and then covered her mouth with a slight gasp.

  “What is it?” Rob asked.

  “I was on shift tonight. Oh no. We should have at least swung by the hospital. They’re going to be so worried.”

  Rob gently placed a hand over hers. “I’m sure you’re not the only one who didn’t show.”

  “But what about our patients? Surely there has to be some kind of back-up generator or something. Right?” She looked at Rob, frantic and waiting for an answer.

  “Yes. I’m sure there are. You need to put it out of your mind. Just for tonight.”

  It all fell like a bad dream. There very livelihoods had changed. Bills, school, work, exercise, family time—all routines given an immediate moratorium. What would their new routines consist of?

  “Almost there, gang,” Rob said, as they ascended a narrow hill leading to a dirt road where the cabin awaited. He could see the small wood structure in the distance, concealed under a patch of Redwood trees. It stood ten feet in the air, on wood beams—to keep wildlife and bugs from getting in. Wooden steps led to the front door. Beyond the windows, the house was as black as the night sky.

  The air was cool and the town below was indistinguishable from the blackness of the forest. Rob had always wondered what a city without lights would look like in the evening—what things must have looked like two hundred years before. During their trip, his question had been answered, and there was no comfort to what they had seen.

  ***

  They soon settled in, unpacked, and moved everything into their three-bedroom cabin in the rolling hills of Bear Mountain. Within the camp, there were five cabins total spread throughout three acres of forest. The others soon showed up, just as Rob expected. There was Peter and his wife, Krystal. The Santos family—Carlos, Mayra, and their children Gabriel and Antonio. Elliott and Reba, an older couple, who had long relocated to their cabin after retirement. And Brad and Ashlee, a young couple with five children.

  The initial reunion between families was heartfelt and affirming. The families were excited to see each other and overwhelmed by the crisis that had sent them into mountains. But now, the real work was upon them. They were going to have to hunker down and work together if there was any chance of survival.

  Days past, then weeks, and their routines soon became second nature. The days consisted of fishing, hunting, cooking, boiling water, gardening, and most important, learning from each other. There was even a few rooms set aside for the kids to go to school. It was life in the wilderness among a tight-knit group of people who trusted each other, motivated by their mutual longing for the return of normalcy so that they could go home.

  Two months had passed and Rob’s family hadn’t left camp. Too many troubling developments were announced over the radio. Gunshots and looting could be heard from the town below. From their carefully placed look-out tower, Rob could see fire and smoke almost daily from his binoculars. Nyack didn’t look to be faring too well from afar. The faith and hope that had brought the camp together was put to the test with each day they remained without answers or assurances.

  Their “temporary bug-out” had extended past the two month mark, and the news had gotten worse. The power grids were no more repaired than the cars on the road. The town was too dangerous to venture into. Their supplies were dwindling even with an emphasis on rationing. But plans were in the works for a supply run. It had to happen, despite whatever madness had gripped their town below.

  Rob was on a morning walk when he ran into Peter, who had just finished his guard shift.

  “Morning, Rob,” Peter, an energetic gray-haired man in his fifties. He and his wife, Krystal were both well-to-do realtors, and among some of Rob’s most loyal customers—when he had his store.

  “Hiya, Peter,” Rob said.

  Peter held a hunting rifle in hand, a camouflaged jacket, and black boonie cap. He looked worn from his long guard shift.

  “I just wanted to share something real quick.”

  Rob looked on, interested. “Sure. What do you have?

  Peter brought his hand to his chin. “I was thinking about what you were talking about the other day. About when you and Mila went into the city to get your kids.” Peter stopped, took his boonie cap off, and wiped his forehead.

  “What about it?” Rob asked.

  Peter’s eyes were intense and wide. “They’re doing that everywhere, not just through the Bronx and Manhattan, or wherever you saw it. It’s part of a nationwide operation to clear the most densely populated areas of the country.”

  “I don’t understand,” Rob said. “Where did you hear this?”

  “From a buddy on my mobile HAM signal. It’s called Operation Urban Breach. A classified operation where they make room for complete militarization.”

  Rob flashed him a skeptical look, but wasn’t entirely dismissive. What he had seen was every bit as Peter described.

  “They know that after the EMP, millions of vehicles are nothing but useless hunks of metal blocking the road. So what is the government going to do, just leave them there? Who owns the roads, Rob? Think about it.”

  Rob was deep in contemplation. Everything Peter was saying made sense. It just seemed so… impossible. How could the government pull off such a thing?

  “And no word on who attacked us and why?” Rob asked. “Two months later, and none of your buddy’s knows.”

  Peter shook his head. “Haven’t heard anything.”

  Rob thanked Peter and went about his morning hike. At the very least, he had quite the story to tell Mila. He walked up a cliff and examined the open fields and tiny houses miles away. Thin waves of smoke trailed in the distance. It always smelled like smoke because something was always on fire.

  For the time being, nothing was going to change. The outdoor life was just like any other. They were a community of people who lived in the area, dedicated to one untied goal of survival. And so far, it was working. Two months in the mountains had left them with disconnected from their normal lives, wondering if it was still possible to make the transition back to who they were before.

  Despite the relative anonymity that surrounded them at camp, the times were changing. And on the afternoon of Sunday, November 19, things were about to get a lot more interesting. They had been discovered. And it was no accident. The men who watched them from a safe distance believed them to be thieves, for their latest supply run had crossed into gang territory.

  About a hundred yards from the camp, a black fedora hat rose from the bushes, revealing a tall man in a leather jacket. He had a small group with him. Bulky, intimidating me, with tattoos, scars, gold teeth, while some were missing teeth. The man, along with his gang convicts, had taken over Nyack and claimed it as their own. Now they had an outside threat to deal with.

  Mayor Jenkins called his men to advance, and they hiked up the latest hill, getting closer to the stretch of cabins before them. They had been staking it out for some time, studying their activities, defenses, and routines. The gang held their rifles close to thei
r chests and moved with a stealth similar to the maneuvering that saw their prison escape.

  Jenkins halted them again. They heard something not far ahead.

  “What is it?” Larry asked. His braided long hair, hung over his jacket.

  “We need to be careful from here on out. These people are armed and they know the area ten times better. They’re not going to be as easy as the preacher and his folks. Got it?”

  “Got it,” Larry said.

  They waited for a few minutes, and then advanced further. The men were itching for a shootout. Murder was on their mind and vengeance in their hearts.

  The exciting tale of survival continues in EMP: Book One

  After adjusting to life at camp, the group mobilizes to conduct a much-needed supply run. Rob knows that venturing into town carries its share of danger, but what lay ahead is worse than he could have imagined. The group narrowly escapes a violent ambush on the streets of Nyack and escapes back into the mountains to re-group and strategize. Having alerted a nearby criminal gang to their presence, an avalanche of conflict soon follows where lines are drawn between those who can survive and those who will die.