Solar Storm (Season 1): Aftermath [Episodes 1-5]

by Marcus Richardson

  She winced as her feet hit the cold tile floor. Across the small room, Erin stirred in her sleep, one milky-white arm hanging limp from the side of her bed. Leah frowned at the pile of clothes scattered across the floor.

  Finals were next week and Erin still thought nothing of going out for all-night parties. Leah just didn't understand. She put on her fuzzy pink slippers and slapped her way into the bathroom.

  Leah reached out to flick the light switch in the small bathroom and stumbled into the sink before she realized the light hadn’t turned on. Frowning again, she flipped the switch up and down to no avail.

  Great.

  UI Brookville wasn't the most modern school and she had grown used to frequent power outages whenever there was bad weather. There was only a little snow on the ground outside and last night had been crystal clear, so she was a little confused why the power was out now, but her bladder didn't give her the option to think too much of it.

  After relieving herself and washing up, she made her way back to the warm confines of her bed. Sighing as she wrapped her thick comforter around her, Leah snuggled in to her little pocket of warmth.

  That was when it hit her. She knew the power was out, so she expected the room to be pitch black. Only it wasn't.

  She opened her eyes and noticed a faint pink glow staining the floor underneath the heavy drapes hanging in front of the window. Erin always insisted on having the window as covered as possible to create a tomblike environment for her to sleep. Light or dark, it didn't matter to Leah—when she was tired, she could sleep anywhere, anytime. It was a trait she picked up from her mother—her real mother—though Kate liked to joke it was something she learned in the Air Force and passed on to her stepdaughter.

  Leah sighed. It's already morning. Dammit.

  She threw back the covers and sat up. She’d never been able to sleep once the sun was up, a trait she most definitely inherited from her father. He blamed his childhood on the family farm, but deep down Leah thought it was because he didn't like to waste anything, let alone time for learning.

  I'm awake, may as well study.

  She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and unplugged it from the charger, expecting the screen to light up as it always did. The black face of the screen stared back at her. She tapped it, pushed all the buttons she can think of to turn it on, then frowned. Leah walked over to the window and peeled back the heavy, thick blanket hanging from the ceiling. She gasped and ripped it the rest of the way down, ignoring the sound of tearing fabric.

  Outside her window, undulating waves of pink and green light covered the entire sky.

  Aurora! Holy shit, the CME hit already! It was supposed to be tomorrow…or today…wait—what time is it?

  She squinted up out of the corner of the south-facing window and spotted Orion striding high over the horizon. The bright orange star Betelgeuse—her favorite—glared down at her as its light cut through the aurora.

  If Orion's that high, it must be 5—maybe 6 o'clock. Almost sunrise. Jesus, look at that!

  Her breath caught in her throat. She glanced down at the dead phone in her hand. It'd been plugged into the wall when the CME hit the magnetosphere. She turned in a slow circle, hoping against hope to find the small blinking lights of idle computers, TVs, or radios. Instead she found her dorm room cast in an eerie pink tint as the auroral light poured in through the window.

  "What the hell?" growled Erin as she buried her head under a pillow. "Turn out the light…"

  "Hey, wake up."

  "Don't wanna," pouted Erin.

  "I'm serious! Wake the fuck up!" snapped Leah. She moved over and shook Erin's shoulder. That was when she noticed her own breath condensing in the air. "Something's happened—you have to see this."

  Judging by the cold air in their room, Leah figured the CME must've hit hours ago and knocked the power out to campus—which killed the heater in their dorm.

  She put one hand to her forehead, trying to brush away the last of her sleepiness. Think, dammit. Power is out.

  Leah thought back to earlier in the semester when the power had gone out after storms. Most of the time, service returned within a day, but that one nasty thunderstorm back in October had left them in darkness for three days.

  She remembered the long lines at the cafeteria as the school attempted to give away as much food as possible to prevent it from spoiling. She learned to take extra bread and the little packets of peanut butter back to her room after the first day. Erin spent the entire time with one of her off-campus friends.

  Leah glanced back into the bathroom. Water. We have to get water from the sinks. Without electricity, the water pumps won't get anything up above ground floor let alone up here on three. Last time we lost pressure in just a few hours.

  She reached under her bed, pulled out a flat plastic tote and removed an olive green flight bag. She smiled at Kate’s going away present, running her hands over the patch that had Kate's name embroidered on it.

  "I know it's not much, but take this," Kate had said when she handed the bag over. "There's a couple bottles of water, some emergency rations, and other toys in there to get you through a crisis—whatever it may be. I have one just like it I take with me on every flight."

  Leah had smiled at the gesture, all the while thinking it pointless. She would be at college, not on deployment overseas. She remembered thinking what could happen that school officials wouldn’t be able to handle?

  Leah looked up at the pink ribbons of light writhing across the visible sky outside. Her eyes blurred, but she wiped away the tears with the back of her hands and unzipped the emergency bag. Mac—and to a lesser degree, Kate—had spent a lot of time trying to teach her to survive in an emergency. It looked to her like it was time to test that training.

  "What the fuck is that?" gasped Erin as she sat up in her bed.

  "Aurora borealis," replied Leah without looking. She pulled the little flight bag open like a briefcase and found a laminated contents list, handwritten by Kate. A few paragraphs written in the same neat script covered the reverse side of the paper, explaining the use of a lensatic compass and how to rehydrate a freeze-dried food pack.

  She skimmed down the list of items. Water, emergency food, space blanket, compass, fire starters, matches—the list went on and on until the bottom where she saw the entry for knife.

  "Is that dangerous?" Erin asked as she wrapped herself in the quilt from her bed. "Why is it so cold in here?"

  Leah looked up and stared at the view out the window. "No it's not dangerous, it's just the interaction of the solar wind with Earth's magnetosphere."

  "English please," Erin replied, "I'm a communication major, not an astro-nerd, remember?"

  Despite herself, Leah cracked a half-grin. "The sun burped, and it hit us. That," she said, pointing at the window with the contents list, "is a sign it was a big burp."

  "How do you know?" Erin asked as she stood from her bed and padded across the floor to the window, her quilt draped around her shoulders like a cloak. "It's beautiful…"

  "You don't see displays like this too far south of Canada. That's why they're called the northern lights. Another way I know it was a big one," Leah said quietly, "is that it knocked out power to the entire campus."

  Erin spun from the window. "It did?"

  Leah went back to rummaging through her emergency kit. Her hand brushed the smooth leather handle of a rather large knife. Leah’s eyes widened in the semidarkness as her fingers travel down the length of the leather sheath. It had to be almost a foot long from the tip of the blade to the thick hexagonal pommel. She carefully, almost reverently pulled the knife from the sheath and examined the 5 inch blade, brushing her fingertips along the serrated upper edge. She glanced down at the paper again, reading in the dim, pink light: Ontario 499 USAF Survival Knife, Black.

  Not sure what she would do with a knife like that, Leah slipped it back in its tan leather sheath. A little pouch attached to the sheath, about the size of a tube of C
hapstick, held a small gray stone.

  Well, at least I know I can sharpen it…

  “So the campus is without power, huh?” Erin murmured, transfixed by the view out their window.

  "It may be a lot more widespread than just campus. If the CME was big enough to make aurora like that all the way down here…most of the town could be out. Or even the state," Leah mused aloud. She couldn’t bring herself to state what she really feared, that the power might be out for the whole country or…God forbid, the world.

  If this was anything like the Carrington event…that affected the whole world but they only had telegraph lines for technology back then. If the whole world lost power…oh my God…

  "There's no way they'd be able to get power back in time for next week’s finals, is there?" Erin asked, as she stood.

  Leah tucked her knife back in the bag and sat down on the bed. “If it caught the power companies by surprise like it did us, they could lose a lot of transformers—” she paused, catching the glazed look in Erin’s eyes. “Look, just because the power’s out doesn't mean they won't have finals. They can still have us handwrite stuff—"

  "I knew it! We’re not going to have finals!" Erin clapped her hands, the motion causing her to drop the quilt from her shoulders. She scooped it up and wrapped herself again. "My God, it's cold in here. Did I take off all my clothes last night?" she asked, pointing a bare foot at the slinky black dress on the floor.

  Leah looked down and noticed underwear and stockings by the foot of the bed. "Looks like it. The heat's off because the power's out, so you might want to get dressed.” She hesitated. “Also, I don't know how much longer we'll have water, so if you want something to drink or you need to use the bathroom, now's the time."

  "Are you kidding me? Now's the time to party,” Erin smirked, pointing out the window. "It's like the end of the world or something out there!"

  Leah tried again. "Erin, listen. This is serious—"

  "I gotta go tell Stacy!" Erin said, brushing past Leah on her way to the bathroom.

  She raced back. "Forgot my clothes."

  "Erin, please!"

  Erin laughed as she headed back to the bathroom again. "Yeah, yeah, I got it—it's a big solar burp or something. This is so exciting!"

  Leah sighed, glanced again at Kate's bag on her bed, and pulled on some jeans and thick socks. She burrowed into her heaviest sweatshirt and grabbed her shoes and winter coat. If nothing else, Erin had a point—they didn't know how bad it was. There was no cause to panic. Yet.

  And if there was one thing her father had taught her growing up, it was to never panic.

  "An educated mind does not panic," he’d told her hundreds of times in her youth. "When you have the benefit of education, you are equipped with reason, logic, and science. If something happens, God forbid, and you are forced to act quickly, it always pays to take a moment and think first. Just think about it," he’d admonished her. He was talking about learning to drive at the time, but the advice applied here too, she thought.

  Leah did just that as Erin brushed by, putting on makeup in the dark and begging use of a spare flashlight. All the while she prattled on about what kind of party could be had to celebrate the event.

  Leah frowned. Okay, power is out to the campus. We're on the third floor. Water pressure in the building should fail pretty quick as more students get up. I have to find something to collect water.

  She looked around her room, ignoring Erin, still talking away at the mirror, holding her flashlight in one hand, makeup brush in the other.

  Leah stared at the bin she’d pulled out from under her bed. It might hold a decent amount of water. That's short-term. And food won't be a problem, because the dining hall will probably just open like it did back during the last power outage in October and we’ll have access to a lot more.

  She opened a drawer on her desk and pulled out the little AA-powered LED flashlight she always had with her. She clicked it on and the bright light lit up the entire room, almost shutting out the pink glow from outside.

  Okay, long term—do I stay here or try to make it home?

  She stood there for a moment thinking. If she tried to go home, how would she do it? She didn't have a car, and she didn't even know if the CME affected cars or not—no one had ever seen one like this before. At least no one alive at the moment.

  She shook her head. Her first priority was to find out extent of the blackout. If it was localized to just Brookville, she would stay here and wait it out. If nothing else, her father would hear about it on the news and come get her when he realized he couldn't make contact.

  If it was a bigger blackout that affected the state or…

  She closed her eyes and focused on what she could plan for. Contact. Right—second thing I need to do is figure out communication. I've got to get word to dad. Leah glanced down at the dead phone in her bed. That won't do me any good. I need to find another phone or a working computer.

  "Hey, Erin—can borrow I your phone for a minute? Mine's dead."

  Erin’s laugh echoed out of the cave-like bathroom. "And you're the one that's always telling me to make sure I remember to plug my phone in at night! Yeah, sure," she said with a chuckle. "If you can find it."

  "Probably in Bret’s room," Leah muttered as she swung her flashlight around the room making a cursory examination of the trail of debris left from Erin’s partying.

  A car roared down the street outside, horn honking. Well, that as answers that question—at least some cars still work.

  "Hey, I'm gonna go see if I can find somebody with a working phone. You going to be okay here?" Leah called out after giving up looking for the phone.

  "Don't worry about me! Once I get ready, I'm heading over to Stacy's. If this is the end of the world, we’re gonna bring the roof down!"

  "Hey," Leah said as she leaned into the bathroom. Erin had a flashlight in the sink pointed up at the ceiling so she could apply makeup. The light, hitting her from underneath, gave Erin a ghoulish appearance.

  "Be careful,” Leah warned, “this is serious, okay?"

  Erin sighed, dropped her hands from her face and turned to stare at Leah with her lipstick half-applied. "I promise, mommy. I'll be a good girl." She laughed and slapped Leah lightly on the shoulder.

  "Come on, loosen up a little. You keep looking at me like that and I will start calling you mom." She turned back to the mirror and finished her lipstick.

  "Okay, just, be careful."

  Leah shut her door behind her and paused in the silent hallway. At any hour of the night, one thing she could always count on was someone listening to music. There was nothing. The hallway was lit only by the emergency lights at the far end, the set by the stairwell to her left, and the single light over the quad meeting room door. A single flashlight bobbed up and down in the distance. Every door on the floor was shut.

  Leah kept to herself during the school year—meeting friends was not high on her priority list. Her goal was to get good grades and land a position as an astrophysicist. Physics and calculus left little time for partying or hanging out watching YouTube while drinking Mountain Dew.

  She took a few hesitant steps toward the door just down the hall from her where Jasmine—a girl in her Physics class—lived. She reached up to knock, then realized Jasmine had explained on Thursday she planned to spend the weekend with her boyfriend across campus.

  Leah frowned. That was her excuse not to study for the exam together. She wondered what the other side of campus looked like right now.

  Leah turned and thought about the other people she knew in the building. Most of them knew each other and had set up little communities of shared interest, with approval from the school. She sighed, regretting more than ever her lack of interpersonal skills. At the least, she chided herself, she should have joined one of the little communities in the dorm. Then she’d know more than just one other girl in her class besides Erin.

  At the far end of the hall, the ROTC squad kept watch over t
he building. On this end, the building was dominated by those who lived in the Roundtable Community, designed for gamers and science fiction and fantasy lovers. Most of the boys would go out of their way to help her on grocery day—John told her one time she reminded him of some Elven princess from a book he liked—but she figured they were likely useless in a situation like this.

  Erin had told her they were playing Dungeons & Dragons in the quad before the party. She knew from experience that those games, especially ones on Friday night, lasted well into the wee hours of the morning. She walked down the hall and peered into the student lounge. Sure enough, two slovenly students with weeks-old patchy beards, lay snoring on the couches. Bags of Cheetos and empty bottles of soda lay scattered around the room along with stacks of books and a pile of dice on the table. Soda cans and water bottles were everywhere.

  "Good grief," she muttered.

  With a final sigh of resignation, she worked her way down to the ground floor, ignoring the athletes on the second floor. She didn't know anyone else besides a handful of people on her floor so there was no point in knocking. As she approached the dorm's front door, she saw a dark-haired boy leaning against the wall with a sleepy expression on his smooth-shaven face.

  "Hello," she mumbled as she walked by.

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned, stretching.

  She turned back to him, her hand on the push bar to the door. "Why not?"

  "It's electronic."

  She pulled her hand back as if he'd told her it was a snake. "So?"

  "If you go out, it will lock behind you and you won't be able to get back in." He smiled. "Ask me how I know."