HADRON Dark Matter

by Stephen Arseneault

  Chapter 7

  _______________________

  Mace awoke as the mammoth display in front of them switched to an image of a podium. A spokesman for the Department of Homeland Security stood behind it.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, good evening. I am Deputy Director Paul Hodgekins of the DHS. I come to you this evening to provide what news we have available to us at this time. As you know, power has now been out in the Northeast corridor for over fifty-seven hours. We have crews coordinating across the region to get these outages resolved as soon as humanly possible.

  “As many of you may have heard or experienced, our communication systems have been hit by waves of intense interference coming from space. At this time we believe this phenomenon to be natural and not the work of another nation. Moscow, Beijing, and Tehran are all experiencing similar outages. This is a worldwide event and as intelligent Humans we'll just have to work our way through it.

  “The effect on communications has been a complete disruption of service, not only for mobile systems and over-the-air broadcasts, but landlines as well. Again, crews are working diligently to resolve these issues. We don't yet know the full cause of this sporadic but extremely heavy interference; however, we and the other nations of the world are cooperating on solutions. The fact that you are witnessing this broadcast is evidence of this cooperation.

  “As to our military, they have been ordered to remain in place and prepare. With the current chaos that is dominating our citizenry, we are left vulnerable to our enemies. The President has ordered all troops and reserves to report, but to remain in place upon arrival pending further orders.

  “We ask that all citizens, except for police, emergency workers, and our military personnel... please remain in your homes. Please make every effort to keep our streets clear for utility work and emergency vehicles as they are moved about as needed. For now through Wednesday of this next week, the President has ordered that all civilian government offices be closed, I would expect the same for local schools.

  “I realize this briefing has been, well... brief, but know that we are doing everything in our power to resolve these issues. That is all I have for the moment. And I must apologize as there will be no questions answered at this time.”

  The briefing room erupted in chatter from the handful of reporters who had been present. The director turned and walked from the podium as a myriad of questions were hurled in his direction.

  A stunned reporter turned to face the camera. “As you heard, we are experiencing a worldwide event. Authorities are coordinating, but it appears they don't know much as to its cause at this time. Please hold... OK, I'm getting reports that the west coast is now without power and widespread looting is underway in Los Angeles. This along with earlier reports of violence and lawlessness in Detroit, Chicago, Houston, and even on the Washington Mall in D.C. Please remain in your homes if at all possible. Allow our police and emergency workers to do their jobs. This is Tawna Binkley reporting, BHCN News.”

  Johnny shook his head. “This is a mess. I wouldn't expect the cops to be here tomorrow either. We may have to take Dirk to the hospital by boat.”

  Dirk said, “Mr. Tretcher, it hurts, but not so bad that I need immediate attention. If I don't move it, there's not much pain at all.”

  Tres looked over at the valet. “Wounds have a way of getting infected. Did you know more soldiers in the Civil War died from infections and disease than on the battlefield?”

  Dirk nodded. “Those were overwhelmingly from disease and not infection.”

  Tres smiled. “Finally, someone who knows the Civil War.”

  Johnny thought for a moment. “Yeah, well, Dirk, we aren't taking any chances. We'll run you over after first light.”

  The remainder of the night was spent flipping from channel to channel looking for news reports while watching the grounds outside. Two broadcasts, coming from over the air, were all that could be found. Both were showing the footage coming from the DHS spokesman on a continuous loop.

  Mace was troubled in thought at how quickly civilization, with all its marvelous technologies, was coming apart. He didn't move from the couch until dawn was beginning to brighten from just over the horizon.

  With weapon in hand, Mace stood. “I'm walking the perimeter. Be back in ten.”

  “Not alone.” Johnny said. “Tres, walk with the man.”

  Tres nodded as he stood, pulling two extra magazines from an ammo box before following Mace toward the door.

  Tres joked, “I can't believe I gave up a night at the Dortmer for all this.”

  “Can't say I have a good feeling about our situation. Happened with no warning. The government didn't know, because there was no preparation on their end.”

  Tres checked the safety on his rifle. “When the power comes back on, I'll bet everyone goes right back to work.”

  Mace reached over to pat Tres on the shoulder. “Let's hope so.”

  As they walked, a huge explosion of light flared in the distance, followed seconds later by a shake of the ground and a rumbling.

  Tres stopped. “What was that?”

  Mace thought for a moment. “I would have to say that's one of the tanks from Craney Island. There's a big Naval fuel storage facility there. If so, give it a few minutes and we'll probably see more.”

  They walked toward the dock.

  “Radio interference wouldn't cause something like that.”

  Mace shrugged. “Who knows. Might just be from the loss of power and then some backup system failed. Answers are the one thing we don't have right now, and I don't think we'll be getting any anytime soon.”

  “Why would you say that? We have some broadcasts back already.”

  “We've become dependent on power for just about everything we do. If this is happening globally, I don't think it will be over tomorrow. Most people can scrounge enough food in their homes to keep themselves fed for a week. After that, civilized behavior will be thrown out the window. Nothing more dangerous that a man intent on feeding his starving family.”

  Tres half laughed. “Aren't you the glorious rainbow of hope this morning.”

  Mace frowned. “Think about it. We get our water pressure from the millions of gallons being continuously pumped up into storage tanks. No power, no pumps. The longer the power is out, the lower the water pressure we’ll have. And what do you think happens when we run out of water? That's probably worse than food in the near term.”

  Tres answered, “I don't know, I think we can be pretty resourceful if we need to be. We can boil it if needed.”

  “Some can, yes. And this group, we'll be survivors if someone else doesn't kill us first.”

  Mace stopped on the first planks of the dock where it adjoined the land. “I think the further away from the city you are, the better off you'll be. These people we dealt with tonight, they were just scumbags who picked the wrong people to rob.”

  “Glad I wasn't at the Dortmer.”

  Mace nodded. “Give this a week or two to fester and you’ll start to see neighbors killing neighbors over food. If this was just local, not an issue. Help would be streaming in from around us. But put this everywhere like it is... no help will be coming. At least not at first. And without comms, it will take the military a while to get organized.”

  “Why would they hold the military back from helping us?”

  Mace shrugged. “They must perceive a threat coming from somewhere. Maybe this interference. Who knows what they aren't telling us. If they even know themselves.”

  Tres walked back toward the house, shaking his head. “You don't have much faith in humanity, do you?”

  Mace sighed as he followed. “I've seen what otherwise normal people are willing to do when they feel trapped and hungry. Not all of those were ideologues.”

  Tres stopped. “I gotta believe most people are good and will do the right thing. Not saying bad won't happen—it might. Just that, well, we're a smart species—we adapt, we overcome.”

 
; Tres again walked and laughed. “Now stop bringing me down, OK? I don't have the training you do, so I need the fluffy bunny, everything will be all right, stories.”

  “Let's check on the others.”

  As they walked, a second storage tank at Craney Island blew. A huge fireball rose into the sky beside the existing pillar of billowing black smoke. Seconds later, the shock could be felt and the rumble heard. The others were standing outside by the back door.

  Johnny asked as Mace stopped beside him. “Those the Craney tanks?”

  Mace nodded. “Yep. Can't say that's an encouraging sign.”

  Jane sighed. “I'm not liking this, one bit.”

  As they walked back into the house, Jane continued with the making of a pot of coffee and the baking of cinnamon rolls.

  Tres pointed Mace at the kitchen. “See, civilization continues.”

  Jane winked.

  Johnny flipped through the TV channels, looking for more news as he glanced at Mace. “You've been in a downhill spiral all night. You gonna be OK?”

  “I think a part of me is just trying to reject the rush of violent activity we've had, that's all. It took me most of six years to get that edgy feeling out of my head. And here in one night it’s all back. Not sure I want to go through the mental come-down again.”

  Johnny gestured toward the kitchen. “Not that it's anything the same for us, but Jane's running on all twelve cylinders this morning. Of course, we did just kill about twenty people. I can see where that would take its toll if you let it.”

  Mace said, “You're looking at the first combat reaction of most soldiers right there. It's not something you can turn off or put aside. You seem to have a similar reaction as to what I initially did. I was nervous, but calm.”

  Johnny thought for a moment, returning a chuckle. “Crapping my drawers over last night won't make me a better person.”

  “I'm the same way. Only thing I would add— from what I've seen and experienced, people like her tend to deal with these things better. Anxious at first, but once they settle they don't have issue with it again. At least not to the degree that others like me have.”

  Johnny smacked Mace on the back. “You are one of the calmest, most put-together people I know. What you're describing is just being human. We all have our moments, and everyone deals with their situation in their own way.”

  Mace half smiled. “Yeah, right.”

  “All you need is something to keep you busy. So, what say we go fire up the boat and take Dirk across the inlet to the hospital? The ride might do you good.”

  Mace sat back on the couch. “Take Tres. And Donna and Dee. She should be with her father. I'll keep watch here on the home front.”

  Johnny stood and joked as he pointed at Mace. “You just keep your hands off my wife. I'm watching you.”

  “You weigh almost three hundred pounds. I'd be an idiot. Anyway, while you’re out, do some recon. Think about what might be of value to us in the near term if power stays out. Not saying to go looting, but if it comes down to it, we'll want to have a plan.”

  Johnny nodded. “Cool, calm, collected.”

  “Jane, make a few of those to go. We're taking Dirk over to Mercy Point.”

  Jane replied, “The hospital's four blocks in from the marina over there. You might want to take your yard wagon for Dirk. He shouldn't be walking on that leg.”

  “Good idea. I'll get it directly. Tres and I will be taking Donna and Dee with us.”

  “Why?” Jane stopped what she was doing. “They would be safer here.”

  Johnny agreed. “They would. But if we have to leave Dirk, I don't want to split them up. Dirk would want them there with him. If we come right back, we bring them back with us. And if they keep him for a day or two, we bring them all back together then.”

  Jane half frowned. “Just think it's an unnecessary risk, that's all.”

  Johnny pulled her close for a hug and a kiss. “They'll be fine. Be back before you know it.”

  The wagon was brought around and Dirk loaded before being pulled across the lawn. The sun was just beginning to peek through the trees. The boat's twin diesel engines powered up, breaking the silence of the ultra-quiet morning.

  Mace remained on the couch, flipping through the endless list of channels before finding another broadcast.

  A local reporter was speaking: “Looting in downtown and the suburbs seems to have subsided now that the sun is rising. Police and fire units worked through the night to restore order. We have reports from the governor's office that the first National Guard units will be deploying later tomorrow. We have been unable to reach Mayor Danford or his office for comment.”

  A second reporter added, “Word out of Washington has been slow. Very troubling given the current situation. Hold on...”

  A staffer handed the reporter a note. “OK, two tanks at the Craney Island storage facility are in flames. We are told Navy firefighters are on the scene and further explosions may be possible, but are not imminent. We have no reports of related deaths or injuries, or of the cause at this time. And, folks, we apologize to those who are watching. We are trying to do our best to stay on the air and deliver the news to you as we receive it. Until such time as we have grid power back, those of you who can hear us, please stay in your homes and be patient. This is a worldwide event and we all need to do our part to see ourselves through this in an orderly fashion.”

  Jane handed Mace a cup of coffee and a hot cinnamon roll. “Not the Sunday morning I was expecting.”

  Mace said, “You should go get some sleep. Could be a long day.”

  Jane smirked. “Sleep, yeah. Like I would be able to do that.”

  Jane held out her hand. It was trembling.

  Mace nodded. “Not uncommon for a first timer. I did that for three days after my first encounter. Just know what you did was the right thing to do, and it was within your legal rights. All we did was defend ourselves and rid the world of a little of its filth.”

  Jane took a sip of her coffee. “It's a lot easier to watch on that big TV than it is to deal with in real life. There's no ‘pause’ or ‘rewind’ or shutting it off. It's there, it happened, and it will always have happened.”

  The newscaster on the screen perked up as a new note was handed to her. “This just in. As has been reported, interference from off-world has been designated as the source of our current problems. Reports are coming in that the interference may be subsiding, and, if that continues, power may be restored over the coming days. Scientists at a New Zealand observatory claim the Earth is passing through a massive wave of electro-magnetic signals, origin still unknown, and when we come out from the other side of this wave, things should return to normal.”

  Mace took a bite of a cinnamon roll. “As hard as it is to survive down here, we forget we live in a big hostile universe.”

  Jane said, “Let's just hope those scientists are right. I think tonight might be worse for some than last night was.”

  The Simpsons emerged from their room.

  Jane gestured toward the couch as she got up. “Have a seat. I'll get you a cup of coffee and a roll.”

  The Simpsons nodded in thanks as they sat.

  Greg asked. “Any new reports?”

  Mace scowled. “Just one. But it didn't tell us anything we didn't already know. They don't know anything. The government can't decide what to do.”

  “The explosions, was that Craney?”

  “Yep. Couple of the tanks are burning.”

  Greg took a deep breath as Jane returned. “We can't thank you enough for your kindness.”

  Jane smiled as she carefully handed over two steaming cups. “You've been good neighbors for the past ten years, quiet and good. Just glad we were able to stop them in time.”

  Molly, the Westie, hopped up on the couch seeking attention from the elderly couple. It was the first smiles the Simpsons had offered since the beginning of the night before.

  Jane asked, “Greg, weren't you a surgeon?”


  Greg shook his head. “Goodness no. Nothing so glamorous. Just research. And mostly on fecal matter.”

  Jane grimaced. “OK, I'd stick with the surgeon gig if anyone asks. Didn't realize there was that kind of money in fecal research.”

  “We had several patented test procedures that netted a substantial sum when we sold my company. Martha and I have lived in that house ever since.”

  Jane asked, “Any children?”

  “No,” said Martha. “We talked about it, and even tried for a short period, but neither of us had the time. We were too wrapped up in our company.”

  Jane smiled. “You worked together?”

  Greg kissed his wife on the forehead. “She was my chief researcher. I can't imagine having been successful without her.”

  Jane grinned. “Now I feel guilty for never having invited you over.”

  Greg smiled. “We're just a couple homebodies anyway. Probably would have bored you to tears. Speaking of homebody, I think it's time we headed back to our house.”

  Mace said, “We left it the way it was. It won't be pleasant in there.”

  Martha replied, “Mr. Hardy, we worked with fecal matter for almost forty years. Having to work with it one more time won't hurt us.”

  Mace laughed as he turned toward Jane. “I like these people. That was funny.”

  Jane said, “I'll leave a note for Johnny. We should all go. We can help you with the cleanup.”

  The four of them turned to face Vanessa where she was sleeping in a large recliner chair with Derwood on her lap.

  Jane stood. “I've never understood how some people are able to sleep whenever and wherever.”

  Greg replied, “That's one of the reasons we wish to go home. Didn't sleep any last night.”

  Vanessa was awakened and the group of five made their way to the Simpson house. Bodies were dragged out to the roadway and bloodstains mopped or otherwise cleaned up. Jane offered weapons to her neighbors. The Simpsons declined. As they left the property, the large iron gate at the end of the drive slid shut and locked. It was the last they would hear from the elderly couple.