by Akart, Bobby
Lacey took her job seriously and studied every aspect of outdoor survival. The only part she’d never covered was the aftermath of a nuclear war. This was on-the-job training at its worst.
“Yes. That tin holds all of those small tools we might need while camping but gets lost in the bottom of the pack sometimes. I can get it.” She started back toward the Bronco, but Owen stopped her.
“It’s electronic, so it might not work. Plus, it probably doesn’t test for radiation. This package indicates these test strips do.”
He opened the Health Metric package and pulled out the test strips together with the laminate card containing test results. He made his way to the creek’s edge and dipped the strip into the water. The family huddled around him, sitting on the rounded, boulder-sized river rocks, as the strip dried and the colors began to appear. After a minute, Owen held the strip next to the chart and compared the results.
“Well, assuming this thing is accurate, we’re good to go. It looks like pure Sierra Nevada spring water to me.”
Tucker knelt down to scoop some into his hands, but Lacey stopped him.
“Not so fast, mister. Let me get our Sawyers. There may not be radiation in it, but there’s other crap that can make us sick. Better safe than sorry.”
Lacey jogged back to the truck and retrieved their Sawyer MINI water filtration system consisting of a drinking straw, a sixteen-ounce reusable pouch, and a cleaning plunger. Small and lightweight, it performed the same function as a LifeStraw commonly used by survivalists. It removed all bacteria like salmonella, cholera, and E. coli. She liked the Sawyer because it could filter up to a hundred thousand gallons each.
The family thirstily took in the cold, fresh water and then worked together to fill their containers. Tucker passed out an MRE bar to each, and they choked it down, commenting the stale form of nourishment tasted like unflavored toothpaste slathered on cardboard.
After repacking the truck to provide Tucker a place to sit more comfortably, they continued toward South Lake Tahoe just as snow flurries mixed with ash began to fall around them.
Chapter Nineteen
Sunday, October 27
Fairfax, Virginia
“Jackie, you’re not going with me.” Peter was being polite but firm as the two argued in the hallway leading to the apartment’s bedrooms. “You’ve got your family to take care of, and I don’t wanna be responsible for you getting hurt.”
She stood tall, fists firmly planted on her hips, adopting a defiant stance that was as strong as the granite on Mount Rushmore.
“You’re not gonna risk your life for my grandmother by yourself. Besides, I know the neighborhood and the store.”
“Every CVS is the same,” Peter shot back. “Nice try, though.”
“You need somebody to have your back. I’ll have Mamaw’s gun and—”
Peter burst out laughing. “No way. No freakin’ way!”
Jackie scowled, her expression barely discernible in the dimly lit hallway. “What? I can handle myself.”
“Have you ever shot somebody? Hell, have you even fired that thing?” Peter walked toward the living room and then turned around and spoke in a loud whisper. “Not gonna happen.”
“You’re right, I haven’t. But they won’t know that. You know, the gangbangers runnin’ around lookin’ to empty the store.”
“They’ll know, trust me. Do you even know how to hold it?”
“Yes! I know how to hold it.”
Out of frustration, Peter pulled his 1911-style, nine-millimeter pistol from the paddle holster inserted into the waistband of his pants. He took it by the barrel and thrust it toward Jackie.
“Show me!”
She took it by the grip, placed her finger on the trigger, and pointed it at him.
“Jesus!” exclaimed Peter as he grabbed her by the wrist and pointed her arm upward.
“You keep His name out of your argument!” shouted Asia from the living room.
“Jackie, this is what I’m talking about. Never put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to shoot. You’ve got to have a better grip on the pistol. The first shot may come close, but the next couple are gonna fly over their heads.”
“Then show me how, frat boy,” demanded Jackie as she relinquished the gun to Peter. “It’ll take us twenty minutes to walk over there. I can learn all I need to know.”
Peter holstered his weapon and stormed back into the living room, leaving Jackie alone in the hallway. He looked at Asia, who seemed to be enjoying the exchange.
“Is she always like this?” he asked.
The answer came from a different direction. “You ain’t seen nothin’, mister.” It was the oldest of the three young children.
“That’s the truth,” added Asia. “I pity the boyfriends she unloads on. She don’t take crap from anybody.”
“Especially a frat boy,” Jackie added, who’d appeared behind Peter without him realizing it.
Asia picked up her gun and offered it to Jackie. The young woman took it and shoved it in the waistband of her jeans. Then Asia addressed Peter.
“You can tell her no, but no sooner than you walk out that door, she’s gonna be right behind you. You might as well take her along.”
“Geez,” mumbled Peter. Asia raised her finger to him as a form of warning. He grimaced and then asked, “Do you have a car? We need a pry bar or a lug wrench with a flat side.”
Asia replied, “We’ve got a Ford Taurus. Jackie said it doesn’t work.”
Her granddaughter nodded and retrieved the keys off a foyer table. “I pushed the button on the key thing, and it wouldn’t unlock.”
The Taurus was an older model that still used a key to unlock the doors and turn on the ignition. Despite the fact the electronics were likely fried from the EMP, the trunk should open with the car’s key.
He shoved the keys in his pocket and ran his right hand through his shaggy hair. He had been overdue for a haircut when he went to Abu Dhabi more than a week ago. Sitting in a barber’s chair had been the last thing on his mind. He furrowed his brow and knelt down in front of Asia.
“I wanna be honest with you before you give permission to let your granddaughter walk through that door. Even if the CVS isn’t already looted and I can get us into the store, there’s no guarantee I can break into the pharmacy. If—and this is a very big if—if I can, then I have to hope they have insulin in their refrigerators and it hasn’t been ruined by the loss of power.
“But, Asia, this may only last a few days or a week at best. I don’t know. Is it worth the risk to send Jackie out there?”
Peter didn’t want to dishearten the diabetic grandmother. He wanted her to understand the risk to Jackie. If something went wrong, Asia would likely die anyway, and Jackie could be lost in the process, leaving the three young kids completely alone.
Jackie walked closer and knelt next to Peter. “Mamaw, I don’t know this man, but I trust him. Please. Let me try.”
For the first time, the stoic grandmother showed a vulnerable side. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she nodded her approval. She looked Peter in the eye.
“Please bring this child of God home to me. Promise me.”
Peter nodded his head, but he couldn’t say the words.
A few moments later, Jackie was leading them to the Taurus. Peter opened the trunk and rummaged through some pillows, blankets and boxes to locate the tire-changing tools. They’d been used once before and thrown in the bottom of the trunk. He managed a smile when he discovered the tire iron was flat on one end with the socket to loosen the lugs on the other.
They walked briskly through the apartment complex until they reached an office building. All of the glass windows of the building’s entrance had been broken out. Peter paused, stuck his head inside, and illuminated his flashlight to scan the interior. He did it out of curiosity, but it was also a reminder. Desperate people were doing desperate things in order to survive. Many understood that help wasn’t coming anytime soon. Th
ey were willing to loot, steal, or forage, pick your description, in order to live one more day.
Jackie knew the sidewalks and pathways of the apartment complex like Peter knew the mangroves around Driftwood Key. As a child, he would play with Jimmy Free all over the twenty-plus acres of the island. They had hiding spots and built makeshift forts for fun. Jackie’s playground consisted of apartment complexes and parking lots. Their two worlds couldn’t have been more different growing up.
She held her hand up across the street from the CVS Pharmacy. “Let’s wait here for a minute and see what’s going on before we cross out into the open.”
At that moment, Peter was glad he’d brought Jackie along. He was on her turf.
Chapter Twenty
Sunday, October 27
CVS Pharmacy
Fairfax, Virginia
Peter raised the compact binoculars he’d taken from Dick’s Sporting Goods. He studied the entrance as they waited. The signature entry door found at the front corner of the building had been pried open, and its glass was shattered. Even in the darkened conditions, he could see merchandise thrown onto the sidewalk and just inside the store.
“See anybody?” Jackie asked.
He lowered the binoculars and sighed. “Not so far. What I don’t know is whether somebody is still inside.”
“I think we’ve gotta go for it, Peter. The longer we wait, the more likely it is that someone else comes along.”
Peter gave the store one last look, and then he put the field glasses away. He turned to Jackie. “From here on out you have to follow my lead, okay?”
She nodded. “Just tell me what to do.”
Peter sensed her serious mood and willingness to cooperate with him. The words he’d said to Asia had been meant for Jackie, too. She was headstrong and confident. Both admirable traits. However, she needed to remember there were young kids relying on her, too. Getting injured or even killed might very well sentence them to death.
“Okay,” he began. “Most likely, the people inside are just as afraid as we are. They’re trying to find things to help themselves or their families. Just like us. We don’t have a quarrel with them, and they have nothing against us.”
“Makes sense,” she interjected.
“I hope I’m right.” He glanced around and then stood, holding his hand out for Jackie to take it. It was a personal gesture that helped the two form a bond. They needed to trust one another. “When we get to the entrance, I need you to give me a minute to clear the store. I’m gonna check the aisles and places to hide to make sure we don’t get ambushed.”
“We don’t have anything worth stealing,” she said.
Peter patted his holster. “Yes, we do. These are our most important assets right now.”
“What do I do?”
“Wait just inside the door,” he responded. “You know, in the shadows so nobody on the outside can see you, and close enough so you can run out if necessary. If something goes wrong inside, run back here, and we’ll regroup. If you see people coming, don’t hesitate. Give me a heads-up. Got it?”
They dashed across Fair Lakes Parkway, a four-lane boulevard separated by strips of grass and mature oak trees. Using the shrubs and trees for cover, they paused to look around one more time before racing through the CVS parking lot to the front door.
Once inside, Jackie readied her weapon as Peter had taught her on the way to the pharmacy. She pressed her back against the wall next to the entrance, constantly looking through the busted-up entrance for any signs of movement.
Peter drew his weapon and walked through the store in a low crouch. Because it was so dark, he had to use his tactical flashlight. He held it backwards in his left hand as if he were prepared to stab someone with it. Then he placed his right arm over his left wrist. This allowed both hands to act as one as his light pointed the way, and the barrel of the gun could lock on to any target he illuminated.
In this case, it took only seconds to locate a target. He made his way to the left side of the store toward the refrigerated coolers and the food aisles. To the right were things like makeup and sundries. By the time he reached the second aisle, he found several children sitting cross-legged on the floor, shoveling chips and candy into their mouths. Their eyes grew wide as they saw the gun pointed at them, but it didn’t deter them from continuing their snack.
Peter approached them cautiously. “Is there anybody else in here?”
“No, mister. Just us,” the oldest of the kids replied.
Peter studied his face to assess his trustworthiness. Kids don’t lie, usually, he thought to himself. It made him feel better, but he exercised caution nonetheless as he quickly moved through the aisles. Less than two minutes later, he was satisfied he was alone.
He was also pleased to discover the steel cage doors rolled down from ceiling to countertop at the pharmacy were still intact. While access would be more difficult, his chance of finding insulin for Asia that hadn’t been rummaged through was better.
“Clear!” he shouted to Jackie.
“Nothing going on out here, either!” she yelled back.
“Stay there for now. There are a few kids in the food aisle, but they’re cool.”
Peter holstered his weapon and gripped the tire iron. He’d been in a CVS pharmacy dozens of times before. He thought the roll-up doors would be too difficult for one person to open. However, he had another plan.
He made his way to the pharmacy windows. As expected, the counters identified as drop off and pick up were secured with a mechanical, cagelike door that locked in place. He walked past the pickup counter to the small room adjacent to the pharmacy, marked Consultation. This space could be accessed by both patient and pharmacist to discuss the medications being dispensed.
Peter took a deep breath and reared back and hit the glass insert on the door as hard as he could. All he accomplished was a jarring jolt to his shoulder, as the glass easily repelled the tire iron and knocked it from his hands.
“Dammit!” he shouted as pain shot through his upper body. He was still sore from the multiple tumbles he’d endured after his car stalled.
Peter stomped around out of frustration. He was certain this would be an access point into the pharmacy. He used his flashlight to inspect the surrounds of the pharmacy. His mind hearkened back to the Vitamin Shoppe at the mall.
He shined the light onto the ceiling. The front of the pharmacy was identified by a red, curved fascia clearly identifying the space to shoppers. After all, CVS was supposed to be a pharmacy and not the variety store it had become over the years. The fluorescent light fixtures were spread equidistant throughout the drop-ceiling panels. The panels ran through the entire pharmacy area, past the secured counters and outward toward the fascia.
He shouted to Jackie, “Are we still good?”
“So far!”
Peter pulled himself onto the drop-off counter by using an adjacent shelf full of cold remedies as a step. Once on the counter, he held onto the steel-grate screen to keep his balance. His head pressed against the drop ceiling. With his right hand, he pressed upward on the ceiling tile. With a little effort, it broke free of the grid and pushed upward.
Peter stepped onto the top of the elevated section of shelf that contained the cold and allergy medications. His upper body was now into the ceiling. He used his flashlight to light up the space.
“This is too easy,” he mumbled to himself. The steel-grate dividers acted as a deterrent to most. However, for the experienced burglar Peter had become, they were just window dressing.
He took a deep breath and pulled himself into the ceiling by grasping an iron water pipe that ran along the space. He pulled upward, and with a kick of both legs, he was able to wrap his arms around the pipe.
Peter didn’t have to go far to drop into the pharmacy. In less than a minute, he’d pulled himself above the ceiling tiles and kicked his way through into the pharmacy. He dropped his body inside, inadvertently kicking the flat-panel monitor off the count
ertop.
“Oops, sorry about that,” he said with a stifled laugh. Peter was full of himself. His overconfidence would prove to be a mistake that almost got him killed.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sunday, October 27
Mount Weather Operations Center
Northern Virginia
“Why the hell can’t we do something!” the president shouted at the representatives of half a dozen agencies charged with the responsibility of rescuing and assisting Americans in their time of need. Between his lack of sleep and frustrations caused by an increasingly dire situation, President Helton was viewed as becoming unhinged.
“Sir,” the secretary of Homeland Security began to respond. He’d borne the brunt of the president’s tirades, as he oversaw so many agencies designed to meet the needs of those impacted the most during a catastrophic event. “The fact of the matter is nobody ever thought this would happen. Until the Cold War ended during the Reagan administration, nuclear Armageddon was on the forefront of everyone’s mind. Since then, we’ve allocated our resources elsewhere.”
The president lashed out, not at those in the room but at his predecessors. “And we’re paying a hefty price for that shortsightedness.”
“Mr. President, have you given any more thought to the power grid situation?” asked the FEMA administrator.
His reply was sarcastic, reflecting his mood. “Yeah, great idea. Kick the entire Western United States in the teeth while they kneel on the ground with their arms outstretched, praying for help and mercy. I may go down in history for a lot of things, but that isn’t going to be one of them.”
“I understand it’s coldhearted, Mr. President.” The FEMA administrator bravely pressed the subject. He was a native New Yorker, so he might have a bias in favor of the East Coast. “Sometimes, we have to consider unpopular decisions to serve the greater good. I can make an argument that our rebuilding effort will be more effective if at least half the nation is fully functioning.”