Under a Tell-Tale Sky: Disruption - Book 1

by R. E. McDermott

  Under a Tell-Tale Sky

  A Thriller By

  R. E. McDermott

  Copyright © 2015 by R.E. McDermott

  Under a Tell-Tale Sky is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  For more information about the author, please visit:

  www.remcdermott.com

  e-book formatting by Guido Henkel at www.guidohenkel.com

  Contents

  Under a Tell-Tale Sky

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Author's Notes

  Thanks and an Invitation

  More Books by R.E. McDermott

  To the men and women of The U.S. Coast Guard

  Past, Present, & Future

  Semper Paratus

  The Event

  1 April 2020

  The world ended on a Wednesday.

  Not physically, of course, but the world as most knew it. The Big Blue Marble continued to spin on its axis and orbit the sun, and neither the indigenous people of the Amazon River Basin nor the Papuan tribes of New Guinea noted anything amiss. But the ‘civilized’ world, the modern world of cheap abundant electrical power and all the wonders it provided, regressed a century and a half in the blink of an eye.

  It was fitting Wednesday was also April Fool’s Day. As if on cue, world governments responded foolishly, dithering over the wording of last minute press releases on the eve of the Apocalypse, sending mixed signals to an oblivious public. Don’t panic. Everything is under control. Business as usual. Communications went down before most advisories were transmitted.

  A few warnings did get through, but the unfortunate timing and muted official response led many to conclude it WAS an elaborate April Fool’s Day prank. Witty anchor people cocked eyebrows and shared the joke, accompanied by a clip dug from the archives, featuring a rustic gentleman with a single tooth and a tin-foil hat, discussing The End of The World as We Know It (to say nothing of his recent colonoscopy at the hands of extraterrestrials).

  But events would prove the gentleman with dental hygiene issues and aluminum head wear to be right after all. The world would never be the same again. But what would it become and who would rule it? An open question, it seemed, but if bureaucrats the world over had been shortsighted in regard to disaster preparation, guns and ammunition were available in abundance. They might not understand preparedness, but they certainly understood power and control.

  Desperate times call for desperate measures, and extraordinary circumstances produce heroes and villains in equal measure. Sometimes it’s difficult to tell the difference.

  Chapter One

  M/V Pecos Trader

  Buckeye Marine Terminal

  Wilmington, North Carolina

  Day 1, Impact

  Dan Gowan stood bent at the waist, forearms resting on the ship’s rail. The lightening eastern sky was bringing the first hints of the coming day. The terminal was a vivid contrast of light and dark shadows as powerful dock lights reflected off enormous stark white storage tanks. He shifted a plug of tobacco from one cheek to the other and squirted tobacco juice over the rail to arc into the dark shadows between the ship and the dock. Beside him, Captain Jordon Hughes shook his head.

  “Damned engineers. If it’s not grease, it’s tobacco juice,” Hughes said. “Get that nasty stuff on my nice clean deck, you’re gonna clean it up.”

  Gowan looked over with a lump-cheeked grin. “Don’t worry, Cap, I always hit what I aim for.” The engineer straightened and glanced down the deck toward the cargo manifold. “And when we gonna start pumping? We’ve been hooked up over two hours.”

  Hughes looked at his watch. “It’s just after four. These third-shift guys won’t get in too much of a hurry. I’m betting they’ll drag things out to make sure they don’t get stuck with the disconnect at the end of the discharge. They’ll likely screw the pooch a few hours before they let us start pumping, just to make sure.” He shrugged. “No skin off our ass. We gave them written notice of readiness, so any delays are on them.” He paused. “Besides, what’s it to you? Why aren’t you in your bunk sleeping instead of worrying the hell out of me about something that doesn’t concern you?”

  “I just kept tossing and turning. Figured I might as well get up.”

  Hughes grinned. “Short-timer fever, huh? Don’t worry, Chief, we’ll be back in Beaumont this time next week. You’ll start your vacation on time.”

  “We better be, or Trixie’s gonna have my ass.”

  Hughes cocked an eyebrow. “I thought the divorce was final.”

  Gowan reddened. “It is, but we’re trying to … to work some things out.”

  “Uh, didn’t you already try to reconcile a couple of times already?”

  “It’s complicated,” Gowan said, changing the subject by nodding toward a slightly built black man approaching from the deckhouse, a backpack slung over one shoulder. “Looks like Levi is headed home.”

  Hughes turned. Levi Jenkins was a qualified member of the engine department, or QMED for short, and had been on the ship longer than anyone else except Hughes himself. Even-tempered and a hard worker, Jenkins was universally liked and generally known as a ‘good shipmate.’ There was no higher accolade.

  “Evenin’, Capt’n, Chief,” said Levi, focusing his gaze on Gowan.

  “Chief, if it’s okay with you, Jimmy’s gonna cover for me today so I can go home. I already cleared it with the first engineer, but he said to double-check with you before I left.”

  “No problem as long as your job’s covered, and the First runs the engine room, so that’s his call. Just make sure you get back before we sail.” Gowan grinned. “But there is the usual condition.”

  Levi grinned back. “Peanut butter or chocolate chip?”

  “Some of each would be nice,” Gowan said.

  Levi laughed and nodded toward the distant parking area, where they could just make out a figure leaning against the front fender of a vintage Ford pickup. “I expect Celia’s already got the cookie dough mixed up.”

  Gowan shook his head. “Now that, my friend, is outstanding. Trixie stopped picking me up at the dock about six months after the honeymoon, and she NEVER showed up at four in the morning.”

  Levi shrugged. “We want to get through Wilmington traffic before rush hour. We don’t call at Wilmington often, and when I got less than a day to spend with the family, I don’t want to spend any of it tied up in traffic.”

  “And we’re keeping you,” Hughes said, “so take off and enjoy your day, Levi.”

  “But don’t forget the cookies,” Gowan added.

  “I won’t. Anyway, Celia knows if she was to send me back aboard empty-handed there might be a mutiny.” Levi laughed and moved toward the gangway.

  Gowan called after him, “And when are you going to get rid of that old beater and get a decent truck anyway? Celia deserves more dependable transportation.”

  “Celia’s just fine with that truck,” Levi called back over his shoulder, “and they don’t get more reliable than Old Blue. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, Chief.”

  “Good man,” Hughes said as he watched Jenkins’ departure.

  Gowan nodded. “The best unlicensed guy
I have in the engine room. I’ve been bugging him forever to take the license exam, but I can’t convince him. Says he’s happy right where he is. He does have a few strange ideas, though,” Gowan added quietly before turning back to Hughes. “Now when the hell are they gonna let us start pumping?”

  Hughes rolled his eyes. “Soon, I hope. Otherwise I’ll have to go ashore and start opening valves myself, just to shut you up.”

  ***

  An hour later, Hughes and Gowan were in the officers’ mess when they heard the familiar whine of the cargo pumps.

  “Finally!” Gowan said, checking his watch. “I thought maybe they’d all gone home. This’ll put us finishing when, mid-morning tomorrow?”

  Hughes nodded. “Give or take, even with a delay we should get out of here on the evening tide.”

  “It won’t be soon enough for—”

  The radio squawked, “Captain Hughes, Captain Hughes.”

  Hughes put the mike to his mouth and pressed the transmit button. “This is Hughes. Over.”

  “Cap, you might want to come out on deck,” said the chief mate.

  “On my way,” Hughes said, rising from his seat with Gowan close behind.

  They arrived on the open deck to stare in wonder. The predawn sky in all directions was awash with shimmering colors, vivid greens, reds, and blues and all shades in between, dancing across the sky from horizon to horizon.

  Gowan’s mouth hung open. “What the hell—”

  “It’s … it’s the Northern Lights,” Hughes gasped.

  “In friggin’ North Carolina?”

  “I saw them once in Alaska,” Hughes said. “Trust me, this is them. And enjoy them while you can. It’ll be sunrise in half an hour, and they’ll fade with full daylight.”

  They stood mesmerized, soon joined by others of the crew, both working and non-watch seamen, wakened by their shipmates to see the spectacle. As Hughes predicted, the light show began to fade with the dawn.

  “Well, I guess the show’s over,” Hughes said as the last curtain of shimmering green disappeared. “Time to get back to—”

  He was interrupted by a thunderous bang and a flash as a transformer on a utility pole ashore exploded, followed by more explosions in the distance along utility lines, one after another like a string of firecrackers. Lights on the dock winked out in response to the explosions, while on board Pecos Trader , the hydraulic cargo pumps continued their high-pitched whine.

  “They’ve lost power ashore!” said Hughes. “We have to stop pumping!”

  Just as he spoke, the ship lost power as well, and they heard the telltale sound of the pumps winding down.

  “Well, that takes care of the pumps,” Gowan said.

  “What the hell is going on, Chief?” Hughes asked.

  “Damned if I know, Cap, but it’s not good.”

  “Go check—” Hughes began, but he was already talking to Gowan’s back as the engineer rushed across the deck toward the deckhouse and the engine room below, tugging an ever-present flashlight from his pocket as he ran.

  US Highway 421

  Northbound

  Levi Jenkins gripped the wheel tightly as they sped north on US 421. His headlights bored a tunnel through the darkness at ground level as a dazzling display of shimmering colors lit the upper reaches of the predawn sky.

  “It’s so beautiful.” Celia stared into the sky a moment longer, then turned back to him. “Do … do you think this is really it? One of those big solar storms you’ve been worried about?”

  “I can’t be sure,” Levi said. “I’ve never seen the Northern Lights, but this can’t be anything else, and everything I’ve read says they’re caused by solar activity. If we’re seeing the Northern Lights in North Carolina, I’m thinking it’s a LOT of solar activity.”

  Celia gestured to their right at the lights of Wilmington. “The lights are still on.”

  Levi shook his head. “We’re turned away from the sun now, so the lights in the sky may just be from the solar storm, kind of washing around the edges. But it’ll be sunrise soon and we’ll be taking the full force of the blast. If anything is gonna happen, it’ll happen then.” He moved into the left lane and passed a slow-moving truck before continuing. “I’m just glad traffic is light. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I don’t feel good about this and I damn sure want to get across the bridge at Peter Point before sunrise. Even with light traffic, it doesn’t take much to jam that bridge. If we get stuck south of the river, it will be tough to get home anytime soon.”

  “Will all the cars stop working?” Celia asked.

  Levi shook his head. “I don’t think so, not from a solar flare, anyway. But it really doesn’t matter. If the power grid goes down and stays down, there won’t be any way to refine and distribute fuel anyway.” He glanced at the colors dancing across the lightening sky and increased speed. “A worry for another day. Right now, we just need to get across that bridge.”

  Celia leaned over and looked at the speedometer. “You’re going twenty miles an hour over the limit now. If we get pulled over, we may not make it across the bridge at all.”

  “Calculated risk,” Levi said, but eased off the accelerator a bit.

  Ten minutes later they crossed the bridge. Levi heaved a relieved sigh and slowed to the posted limit as he drove northwest through a mixture of woodlands, vacant fields, and industrial development along US 17/421. It wouldn’t do to get pulled over at this point. Traffic was getting heavier as he encountered the first of the morning commuters headed into work. Levi looked once again at the lightening sky.

  “The kids with your folks?”

  She smiled. “You know they are.”

  It was a standard ritual. Whenever Levi made port in Wilmington with an anticipated nighttime arrival, Celia arranged for their two children to sleep over at her parents’ house next door. Thus, they were never alone when she went to collect Levi, and the adults could enjoy some ‘private time’ before the kids woke up.

  “You think your folks are up yet?”

  Celia laughed. “Are you kidding? They’ll be mostly through a pot of coffee by now. Why?”

  “Better call your momma. Tell her if the lights go out, to wake up the kids and start getting ready to move to the river.”

  “You really think that’s necessary? Shouldn’t we wait a bit—”

  “We’ve talked about this, Celia. If we lose power after these lights in the sky, I’m thinking this is the real deal. We need to get out of harm’s way while everyone else is confused.”

  “I know, but then it just seemed … I don’t know … theoretical.”

  Levi shot another look skyward. “Well, we’re about to find out just how theoretical it is, so you better make the call now while we still have cell service. Another five miles and we’ll be in a dead zone.”

  Celia nodded and dug her phone from her purse. Levi listened as she made the call. It was obvious from Celia’s side of the conversation her mother wasn’t particularly receptive to the idea.

  “I know, Mom, I know. But you don’t have to do it unless the power goes out. Yes, I’ll tell him. Love you too. See you soon.”

  “Tell me what?” Levi asked as Celia put her phone away.

  “That she loves you, but you irritate the hell out of her, scaring everybody with all this ‘end of the world stuff,’“ Celia said.

  “But she’s gonna do—”

  KA-BOOM! Sparks cascaded into the roadway as a transformer exploded on a utility pole, followed immediately by similar explosions all along the power line in the distance. Levi flinched and jerked the wheel, inadvertently sending the old truck into a skid. He fought the truck back under control, but two hundred yards ahead of them, a startled motorist veered from the northbound lane into the path of an oncoming car with a resulting thunderous crash. Similar events happened along the length of the highway, and Levi stood on the brakes to bring Old Blue to a shuddering halt at the side of the road, only a few feet away from the wreckage of the
nearest collision. He and Celia jumped from the truck and rushed to help.

  The northbound vehicle causing the crash was older, either without an air bag or with one that failed to deploy. Nor had the driver been wearing his seat belt. He’d gone through the windshield head first and was draped across the smashed hood of the car like a bloody and boneless rag doll. There was no doubt he was dead. Levi rushed to the other mangled car, where Celia was tugging frantically, and unsuccessfully, at the driver’s side door. Inside the vehicle, two young women slumped in their seat belts, deflated air bags lying across their laps. Both were dazed but conscious, and he ran around to try the passenger-side door as Celia continued to jerk frantically on the driver’s door.

  “Hurry,” Celia yelled. “I smell gas!”

  Levi’s nose was assaulted by the pungent smell as he tugged at the passenger door. It was locked.

  “Unlock the doors,” he screamed, beating on the window, but the only response from the passenger was a glassy-eyed stare.

  He searched the ground and spotted a fist-sized rock in the grass just off the road. It was too small to hold and use as a hammer, so he backed off and threw it at the passenger window with all his might. It produced a crack but little else, rebounding off the glass to fly out of sight into the tall grass. The gas smell was almost overpowering now. Levi weighed his chance of finding the rock, just as the woman passenger began to scream. Levi moved back to the window.

  “Unlock the door,” he screamed, but the woman was in hysterics.

  Desperate now, he leaned his back against the cracked window and hammered the weakened glass with his bare elbow. It yielded on the third blow, showering the screaming passenger with glass. Levi whirled and thrust his hand through the broken window to unlock the door and jerk it open. Still screaming, the terrified and confused woman fought Levi as he attempted to unfasten her seat belt.

  “Easy, easy.” Levi groped one-handed for the belt buckle, fending off her attacks with the other. “You’ve been in a car wreck. I’m trying to get you out. Don’t fight me!