“The situation seems to be under control,” Evan told him. He sounded relieved, but incredibly weary. “Once the latest delivery of diesel for the generators arrives, that’ll buy us another forty-eight hours. There’s something you should know. This same struggle hasn’t gone so well in other parts of the country. There have been meltdowns. One in California and…”
“I know,” Nate cut in. “A neighbor of ours has a shortwave we’ve been using to collect information from the rest of the country. This isn’t isolated to Illinois or even to the Midwest. The power’s out in all of North America.”
The line was silent.
“You knew, didn’t you?” Nate said, accusingly.
“I can’t say what I know,” Evan replied, enigmatically. “The military arrived this morning in giant APCs. They brought their own engineers and have been making our lives a living hell, questioning every decision we’ve made. Wasting time instead of giving us medals for saving the county. If they just stick to the protocol I laid out, we should be fine.”
Nate told him about the evacuation plan.
“Rockford, eh? Well, we’re not quite there yet.”
“Hey, if the military’s so keen to take over, why don’t you let them and come home?” There was a touch of sadness and desperation in Nate’s voice.
“Don’t worry, big brother. Someone’s gotta watch the farm. You just make sure the house is nice and warm for when I make it out. I haven’t seen a bar of soap in far too long.” He might just as well have been describing a stint at a maximum-security prison.
Nate laughed. “Would you believe it’s only been forty-eight hours since the lights went out?”
His brother returned the gesture with even more enthusiasm. “Forty-eight hours might as well be an eternity when you’re living one second to the next.”
And with that, Nate gave Evan his customary farewell. “Stay safe, bro.”
Chapter 18
Nate was by the fireplace, nursing a steaming mug of instant coffee—one he couldn’t remember ever tasting quite so good—when he felt the ground shake violently beneath his feet. That strange and unsettling feeling was followed a second later by a loud boom that rattled the windows and shook the house.
Amy called up from the basement in alarm. She had been grabbing a few items for dinner when the concussive blast wave from the explosion had struck them.
Hunter skidded in from the living room, flipping aside the chocolate-colored fleece blanket acting as a heat barrier as he blew past it.
“Oh, my God, did you feel that?” he shouted, eyes wide, standing in dramatic contrast to his freckled cheeks. “I think we’re under attack. Those guys are back.”
“Hunter, relax!” Nate barked, already by the window and scanning the empty snow drifts outside. The assailants hadn’t returned. A detonation that strong could only mean one thing. Reactors number one and perhaps two at the Byron nuclear power plant had just exploded.
The nightmare scenario was happening. The proverbial bullet he had let himself believe they had dodged might have struck after all.
In a flash, Nate was dressed in his winter parka, poised on the back deck. Deep lines formed along his brow over what he was seeing in the distance.
First Amy, then Lauren, and finally the twins ran out to watch. Two generations of Bauers stood transfixed at the same nightmarish scene. Emmitt’s head was tilted back, his jaw hanging open in bewilderment.
High above the tree line a billowing black cloud rose into the sky, its upper edges spreading ominously outward with every second that passed.
With fingers numbed by a combination of cold and terror, Nate fished the Geiger out of his pocket and switched it on. The Geiger came to life almost at once, spitting out a loud crackling sound.
“We need to leave and right away,” Nate told them, heading back in. Hunter’s thoughtless and dangerous negligence leaving the keys in the family car had just made their situation infinitely worse.
For its part, the explosion at the plant had distilled the present moment to a single point. All of the safety features they’d tried implementing these last forty-eight hours had failed in critical and disastrous fashion. It wasn’t much of a logical leap to assume the core had melted down and was in the process of spreading a deadly aura of radiation over the entire area.
“Kids,” Amy shouted. “Run to your rooms and grab your go-bags, just like I taught you.”
Nearby, Lauren was trying to hold herself together. “We aren’t coming back any time soon, so take whatever you can carry.”
Nate had a list of his own which included the shotgun and a duffel bag filled with ammo. He then sprinted into the basement and the shelves filled with food, loading up with everything he could carry. Wherever they were headed, he wouldn’t take for granted that food would be plentiful.
Faced with such a dire predicament, their choice was simple enough. Either they fled with their go-bags and headed for the evacuation bus he had discussed with Carl, or they could take their chances on their own. The pickup had two seats, with maybe a third seat up front for one of the twins. That meant Lauren and one of the other boys would be sitting in the flatbed, covered in blankets, hoping for the best. If anything went wrong, if the gas gauge on the dodge overestimated what was left in the tank or conditions on the road between here and Rockford were harsher than they anticipated, it could very easily mean the difference between life or death. Sure, it was a simple choice, but one loaded with risk. There was another issue they hadn’t factored in. What about Evan? Would he be evacuated on his own? Would he head back home, uncertain where they’d all gone? Or would he stay at the plant, attempting to limit the damage? Or worse yet, could he have been killed in the blast? In good conscience, Nate couldn’t simply leave his brother behind. He had already lost one sibling, he wasn’t going to lose another.
Minutes later, everyone was assembled by the front door. Each of them had layered up in long johns, thick socks, sweaters along with all their outdoor winter gear. The go-bags Amy had helped them pack also contained essentials they would likely need in the coming days—dry socks, changes of underwear and clothing, along with a first-aid kit, iodine tablets, water bottle and some high-energy protein bars. It was important to be nimble in situations like this. Fight the urge to pack everything including the kitchen sink. Nor was it possible to anticipate any and every situation. Nate had read about how in special forces units, each member had their primary role and specialty. That helped them do more with less. Efficiency was the goal and Nate was glad he and Amy had insisted Evan’s family had taken this seriously back when things were relatively calm.
Nate’s own bag contained the majority of the high-tech gear he’d picked up over the years. Some of the items he’d found online while others had come from camping stores and specialty outlets. On the plus side, much of it was brand new and in working order.
While his family was prepared, he knew the vast majority of folks rarely thought further ahead than what to eat for dinner or watch on TV.
Then came the sound of a car horn from outside.
This wasn’t time for democracy. It was time for a decision, and a decision he had already made. Confident they had most of what they would need, at least in the short term, he laid out the plan.
“We’re going to load the pickup. Lauren, Hunter and Emmitt will ride with Carl and Liz in their car.”
The horn sounded again and the boys looked outside at Carl and his wife waving them on.
“Where are we going?” Emmitt asked, frightened.
Nate swallowed and found his mouth had gone dry. “You’ll be riding in evacuation buses organized by the town,” he told them. “They’re heading for Rockford.”
Amy’s coral-blue eyes flashed with surprise and then anger. “What do you mean ‘you?’ Aren’t you coming with us?”
“I’ll be right behind you,” Nate said. “Following the convoy.”
“And what about Evan?” Lauren asked, holding onto the straps o
f her bag as though it were a life preserver.
“After I drop you off at the bus, I’m going to swing by the plant and grab him.” Nate could already hear his wife’s protests before she spoke.
“Are you insane?” she shouted. “The whole town is filling with radiation.”
“That’s precisely why I’m dropping you off first. There’s no way I want any of you exposed more than you need to be.”
“Please don’t leave my dad behind,” Emmitt said, tears welling up.
Nate used both hands to pull his nephew’s hat on tight. “No one’ll be left behind, buddy. You have my word.”
Outside, Carl and Liz’s car honked again. Everyone hugged, before Lauren and the two boys headed out to meet them. Amy and Nate then filed into the garage where his truck sat waiting. While she got installed, he opened the sliding garage door manually. When he was done, he reached into his bag and pulled out the Geiger counter. Switching it on, he took a single step outside and waved the device around once again. The readings were well above normal.
Moments later, with the Dodge idling in the driveway and the house locked up tight, the convoy left for Byron Middle School.
Chapter 19
Nate took the lead in the Dodge. The road ahead was marked by two parallel sets of tire tracks through the snow. Back and forth went the wipers as Amy fiddled with the vents to keep the windows from fogging up. He glanced down at the electronic gas gauge and saw he had sixty-five miles left in the tank. Of course, that was under ideal conditions, which these were certainly not. But with any luck, he would have more than enough fuel to get all of his family to safety.
An SUV before them slammed on its brakes for no apparent reason. Nate swerved, taking evasive action to avoid a collision.
“Whoa!” Amy cried, as she swayed in her seat, white-knuckling the drop-down grab handle.
“Looks like even the blind are out today,” he said, grimacing.
Carl and the others were less than twenty feet behind them, taking advantage of the path Nate was plowing with the forward momentum of the truck.
He was about to express his surprise at how few cars were on Byron’s streets when they turned onto the main thoroughfare. It was known as Highway 2 and among commoners as Blackhawk Drive and it wound through the core of the town like a long, slithering snake. Suddenly and out of nowhere, they were in bumper-to-bumper traffic.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Nate shouted in disbelief. He thought of the Geiger again, and dared not pull it out lest it told him what he already knew. They were eating far more radiation than they should. He and Amy each swallowed a potassium iodide tablet. As he did so, he couldn’t help thinking of Evan, over by the plant. There wasn’t time for this. The traffic was going in one direction, northeast toward Rockford. It appeared a number of folks were going to take their chances. What they didn’t know was that a pair of state troopers were going to escort the convoy of buses past this mess. Not everyone had a Carl and not every Carl had a shortwave, but Nate had both.
He spun the wheel and pulled out into the oncoming lane. Chunks of snow spun off his back tires.
“Babe, the hell are you doing?” Amy cried out, glaring at him as though he’d lost his mind.
With traffic flowing in a single direction, the real insanity, he had quickly realized, was waiting to be irradiated while sitting bumper to bumper. Nate drove out, passing the long line of cars. Carl was right behind him, along with a handful of others who had followed his lead.
“We don’t have time for that parking lot,” he told her and nudged the accelerator.
Whenever an oncoming car would approach, Nate would slow down, hug the line of cars on his right and let them pass. A few folks honked in protest as he went by, a heavy volume of snow splashing off his grill, but none of them knew the middle school was only his first stop in their evacuation plan.
“Up here at the light,” Amy reminded him.
Now came the tricky part. Cutting across traffic in order to make the turn he needed. A cop directing traffic ordered the oncoming vehicles to stop. As soon as Nate reached the intersection, he spun the wheel, swinging his back tires out in a wide arc before regaining control. The stunned expressions on the faces of folks waiting in line was priceless. The cop too had to jump out of the way.
Still more amazing were the number of people in tiny hatchbacks in the distance, struggling to move forward. The source of the traffic jam he had narrowly avoided had quickly become clear. Half the cars were stuck in the snow. The rest were doing what they could to maneuver around the trapped vehicles. He wondered in that split second what would become of those who were stranded. There had to be dozens of them, all struggling in vain to dislodge their cars, woefully unprepared for the wintery hell that had descended upon them.
The middle school was not far from here and Nate powered down side roads blanketed deep with snow and not vehicles.
Moments later they came to a checkpoint. A sheriff’s deputy patrol car was angled across the road. Nate pulled up and lowered his window.
“Only local traffic allowed,” the officer told them. He was dressed in a long black coat and a matching knit cap, the latter pulled down over his ears. His cheeks were flushed from the cold.
“We’re heading to the evacuation point,” Nate said. He could just make out the school and the line of buses in the distance.
“No problem, sir. There’s some nasty gridlock on Blackhawk Drive and we’re trying to ensure folks aren’t aiming to take shortcuts to avoid it.”
“I understand.” He pointed to the convoy idling by the school entrance. “We heard they’re heading to Rockford. Can you confirm that?”
The deputy nodded. “Yes, sir. Rockford. Victory Sports Complex, to be precise. An indoor soccer pitch they’ve converted into a makeshift shelter. On a clear day, it couldn’t be more than a twenty-minute drive, but I heard they’re expecting the journey to take a good three hours. So you folks better get a move on. Seems those boys are itching to go.”
Nate thanked him and pulled ahead. As they approached, more cars appeared. Many of them had taken the main avenues to get here, probably under the assumption the roads there would be less hazardous than the back streets. Nate sighed as their momentum slowed to a crawl. He wanted to honk, but didn’t see the point.
Another deputy was in the school parking lot, trying in vain to direct traffic. The problem was, the townsfolk who were showing up in droves needed a place to park their vehicles. The police escort promised to the bus convoy had done a lot to sell the idea to anyone lucky enough to learn about it. Given the chaos, the town had barely begun the time-consuming task of informing people it was even an option. Surely, hundreds remained barricaded in their homes, some oblivious to the radiation sickness that would soon overtake them. A smaller, but more headstrong number likely knew of the danger, but refused to leave their homes for a wide variety of reasons ranging from protection of property to a not unreasonable concern that the situation outside might be more dangerous. They would take their chances with whatever nuclear fallout was coming their way. Nate certainly understood the impulse. More than a few residents had refused to leave New Orleans during Katrina until it was far too late. And even then, a surprising number had opted to go down with the ship rather than risk weeks or months away from home, sleeping in shelters.
Out of nowhere, another deputy appeared along the road and waved them into the parking lot. Nate waved as he passed, thankful these men hadn’t abandoned their posts.
On the back of that, he couldn’t help think about Evan. One could argue Evan was needed at the plant and that Nate should leave him be. Maybe earlier, when there had still been a chance of salvaging the situation. But not now, he told himself. Not after the worst-case scenario had come to pass.
The parking lot to their left would have been a nightmare had a team of pickup trucks with snowplows not cleared away at least some of the deep powder. It was a hack job, no doubt about it. But thankfully someone ha
d had the foresight to see the logistical problems they would face as folks began showing up.
He spotted a natural depression between snow drifts just ahead and pulled the Dodge alongside it. With tires spinning, Carl pushed his snow-battered car ahead and parked in front of him. They got out into the numbing cold and began unloading. A man by the bus was shouting instructions to those beginning to board. “One bag only. Anything more will be left behind.”
A guy with two giant suitcases was trying to argue his case without much success. Nate saw more people loaded like pack mules with backpacks, duffle bags and suitcases to boot. Nearby sat a graveyard of abandoned possessions cast aside in the snow. The sight was unnerving and only added to the growing sense that things in their small, once bucolic little town were unravelling at a rapid rate.
Lauren and the twins appeared next to them, each holding a single knapsack. By comparison to the hordes who appeared to have brought everything they owned, their little group looked vastly underprepared. But Nate and Amy understood, in a situation such as this, the quality of what you packed was far more important than quantity.
They headed toward the line of buses, Nate’s heart seizing up with the thought of watching them step on board. Once he grabbed Evan, he would be right behind them. He knew that. But he couldn’t shake the terrible feeling he wasn’t going to see them again. The image of a bus overturning on the highway flashed before his eyes and he shoved it away. Given the crappy circumstances, this was the only choice that made sense. A traffic jam on the freeway could very well be a death trap. The police escort might just provide the edge they needed.
Nate hugged each family member in turn. “I’ll be right behind you,” he assured them. He reminded Amy how much he loved her. She rarely ever cried. It was one of the strange personality traits he loved about her. That was why the tears he saw threatening to roll over the lids of her eyes and down her cheeks struck him like a sharp blow to the solar plexus. She wasn’t worried about meeting him in Rockford. What was upsetting her was that he was heading toward ground zero of a nuclear meltdown to get a man who might already be dead. But Evan wasn’t just a man. He wasn’t only a brother either. He was a husband and a father and Nate knew if they had packed up and fled town without him, he would never be able to live with himself.
America Offline (Book 1): America Offline [Zero Day] Page 8