Post Grid: An Arizona EMP Adventure

by Tony Martineau

  “Rich, Jose, go check the other shooters. Secure their weapons and make certain they aren't a threat. This one is out of action.” They went back toward the front of the store.

  Kelly thought, The gunman had been facing the hay stack to her right. She eyed the high pile of bales. There was a stairway of sorts, made by removing the bales from the square stack. Nothing looked out of place. She moved cautiously to the side of the stack. “Dennis!” Then she saw him. He was lying on his back, rifle at his side, eyes open and staring at the ceiling. “Dennis!” Kelly screamed, voice shrill, tears coming to her eyes. She scrambled to his side, then dropped to her knees. Dennis blinked and slowly looked at her.

  “Oh, I hurt... everywhere,” Dennis groaned.

  She breathed a sigh of relief and dropped to her knees beside him. “You better,” she chastised him. “You scared me to death. Don't move. Let me take a look at you.” She began the same quick field assessment she had used during the war. “What happened?”

  Dennis tried to sit up, but Kelly put one hand on his forehead, holding his head still. “Don't move your neck. Does it hurt?” She put her free hand gently behind his neck.

  “Nope.”

  “Does it hurt when I move it side to side or up and down?” she asked, moving his neck very gently.

  “Nope.”

  “Okay then, slowly, try moving it on your own and see what you think,” Kelly said.

  “Everything seems to move okay,” Dennis said, slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position. “I was climbing that pile backwards as fast as I could go, shooting as I went. I must have topped it and kept on going. Did I get him?”

  “Yeah, you got him alright. We saw you defending the fort. Good timing on our part, huh?” Kelly asked.

  “I didn't know I could shoot a man,” Dennis said.

  “I'm sorry you had to do that, but you've got to get up, we have to get going before anyone else decides they want what we've got.” Kelly helped Dennis to his feet and together they navigated around shattered glass and pellets of dog food to the front of the store.

  Jose and Rich had two of the injured gunmen propped up against the wall. One had a flesh wound to his right arm and the other had been shot through-and-through the left leg. One was pleading for his life, the other just crying.

  “We aren't going to kill you,” Rich said.

  “We didn't mean to hurt anyone,” the least hurt said. “We were just defending ourselves.”

  “Didn't look like you were defending yourselves. We saw six guys charging the store. What a waste of human life,” Rich said. He spat on the ground in disgust. “There's plenty in here for us and all of you too. Now your buddies are dead and for what? You kids have been playing too many damned video games.”

  “Please, just let us go,” the youngest pled, tears streaming down his face.

  “Oh, we aim to let you go, but you're done shooting at people,” Rich said.

  “You take our guns mister, and we're as good as dead,” the other kid said.

  “Should have thought about that before you rushed poor Dennis here,” said Rich. “If we give 'em back, you're just as likely to shoot us as not.” He motioned toward the west. “Now, get on out of here while I'm still inclined to let you leave.”

  The kid with the flesh wound helped his leg-shot buddy stand, and they hobbled off.

  “I hate this,” Rich said. “Scrapping like thugs for things we all need.”

  Everyone else was silent.

  The trip home was a long one. The horses fared the worst, but Kelly made sure they were rotated off the cart every so often. That meant that time had to be taken to unharness and harness the animals, which considerably slowed their progress. The small band pushed steadily on to avoid the vulnerability of stopping for the night. The horses pulling the cart set a slow, monotonous pace that the others naturally fell into. The clomping of their hooves echoed through the canyons. As darkness fell, the temperature plummeted, giving everyone a second wind. They did not see any other travelers on the road home; if there were any, they were probably all camped for the night, if they had even made it this long. Everyone rode quietly, peering into the night in case of an ambush and privately pondering the events that had turned their worlds upside down.

  Chapter 7

  The group got in about 9 p.m., as measured by the grandfather clock. It had been Emma's father's and his father's before him. Dennis stopped, opened the glass face and adjusted the hands to his watch's time. He wound the clock, then went on to the kitchen.

  “How did the trip go?” Jared asked from the couch as Kelly came through the front door. Someone had stacked pillows so that he was sitting at a forty-five degree angle, and his shoulder was supported with more pillows and blankets.

  Emma interrupted, placing the shirt she was mending on the end table beside her. “You can tell all of us while you eat. I made dinner, hoping you would make it in. I'll reheat it.” She got up and headed for the kitchen.

  “How are you feeling, Jared?” Kelly asked softly. She pulled the ottoman over near the couch and sat just out of his reach.

  “Sore today,” he answered, forcing his shoulders back slightly until he winced. “Hoping for a better day tomorrow, though. It's good to see you home safe.”

  Kelly smiled, “Good to see you too. I worried.”

  “No need to worry about me. I'll be as right as rain in a week.”

  She smiled. “Well, a week may see you off that couch, but I'm not sure a week is going to get you back to where you were.”

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” he said with a playful frown.

  Kelly leaned forward.

  Jared wrinkled up his nose and gave a good sniff. “I wouldn't come any closer if you want me to live.”

  Kelly cocked her head to the side and raised one eyebrow.

  “You smell of road dust and horse, but you're still a beautiful sight.”

  “Bet you say that to all your cowgirls,” she said, sitting back up straight, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

  “Only the pretty ones.”

  “Do you know any other cowgirls?”

  “No, not really. I only moved here two years ago. I think one of the court clerks has horses. I haven't ridden since summer camp, when I was thirteen.”

  “Summer camp? Where?”

  “Michigan. Crabapple Lake, over on the west side. The nights were heaven. The fireflies made the woods sparkle at night. We used to catch them and put them in baby food jars to make our own personal lanterns.”

  “Did you go every summer?”

  “Most summers, when Mom and Dad could scrape up the money or I could raise it myself. They liked me gone because they both liked to drink. Sometimes the camp money got used for booze before I could go. If they drank the camp money, they'd just leave me at home alone; nobody watched me.”

  “I'm sorry.” Kelly paused, thinking of what to say next. “I didn't mean to pry.”

  “You're not prying. A lot of kids have crappy parents. That's probably what pushed me toward police work. When the police came to our house, they were nice to me. Maybe I was wanting to make a difference, but I'm not quite the social worker type.”

  “Noble of you, Mr. Malloy.”

  “I don't know how noble, but at least my folks' lifestyle taught me not to drink or do drugs. When you see what it does to people, you either fall into it or run away from it.”

  “Did you have grandparents?”

  “I remember my mom's parents when I was small, say up to five or six, but after that they seemed to fall away. We moved a lot, apartment to apartment, trailer to trailer. We would stay 'til we got evicted for my folks' loud fights or not paying rent. I never knew my dad's parents.” He appeared thoughtful. “Shoot, I'm not sure my dad knew my dad's parents.”

  Kelly sat upright on the ottoman, stretching her shoulders.” We all know that stuff goes on but I, for one, was sheltered from most of that. I had a girlfriend in fourth grade whose dad used to drink and yel
l—maybe even hit her, I don't know. I'd gone somewhere with her and her mom in the car. We got back to her house and her dad had been drinking. He came out of the house screaming and yelling. I used to see my friend at school after that, but was too scared to go over to her house anymore.”

  “Yep, that was my house too. I'm glad to be out of that now, on my own. I've been out for ten years, since I was fifteen. Took me a long time to fit in. I have a few friends now, you know, other deputies. They understand a cop's life.”

  She stared at him, unrelenting in her gaze. “Can you talk to them? I mean, really talk to them?”

  “We watch sports. They drink beer.” He readjusted his arm on the pillow. “We don't really talk. I guess I never really learned how to be a good friend.”

  “That can change.”

  “I don't know—can it? If you miss all that as a child, can you learn to be a good, friend, husband, father for that matter?”

  “I think you've got what it takes,” Kelly said. She leaned forward again and laid her fingertips on his forearm. “Let's get you well, then find out.” She smiled briefly, then stood. “I'll be back, I'm going to go get washed up. My stomach is growling. The guys are up at Rich's place cleaning up and they'll be back soon hungry as bears; I don't want to hold up the works. Can we continue this later?”

  “I'd love to.” He closed his eyes and sank back deeply into his pillows. “I'd love to.”

  ****

  A few minutes later, smelling of soap and perfume, Kelly returned to the living room to find Lynn talking to Jared.

  “Time to get up,” Kelly announced. She helped Jared swing his legs off the couch and get into a full sitting position. Next, she stood to his right facing forward, bent at her knees, and lodged her forearm snugly in his right armpit. Lifting, she said, “Up.” The attempt was only partially successful. Jared came up a couple of inches, then flopped back down. “Ugh,” he said upon landing. Lynn stepped to his other side just in case she was needed, but wondered where she could hold on. She didn't dare lift him by his bad arm.

  “Guess I wasn't ready after all. Try it again,” Jared said determinedly.

  “Okay, here goes. UP,” said Kelly. “Ahhh, that's it.”

  Jared stood, not quite straight up, but up nonetheless. Taking short, tentative steps, he said, “Kelly, this young lady”—he tipped his head toward Lynn—”stepped into your nursing shoes while you were gone. Seems now I have two of my three nurses hovering about. I appreciate all of this attention, but I'm not going to die on the way to the kitchen.”

  Jared suddenly listed toward Kelly and she leaned into him firmly, propping him up.

  “We know, we know,” she said, giving an exaggerated sigh and grunting, as if bearing his weight were arduous. She leaned her face in toward his so closely, she could feel the warmth radiating from his cheek.

  Emma had placed Jared's new favorite chair, the one with the armrests, at the kitchen table for a late dinner. Kelly and Lynn helped Jared ease into it.

  “Thank you, ladies.”

  Everyone sat crowded around the table as the meal was served.

  “You mean we get to eat again?” Jess scooped a huge mound of mashed potatoes out of the bowl in the center of the table.

  Emma cleared her throat. “Yes, but please save the lion's share for those who haven't eaten any dinner yet.” She narrowed her eyes only half-teasingly and glared at Jess.

  Jess seemed to take the hint. He knocked half of the scoop back into the bowl, showing just a hint of remorse.

  “Thank you,” Emma said approvingly.

  “What happened in town?” asked Jess. “No one has told me anything. I wish I could have gone,” he said, speaking quickly, not giving anyone time to respond.

  “Okay, okay, be patient,” said Jose. “I thought we should wait to tell the story 'til everyone could hear it at the same time, instead of having to repeat ourselves. We were lucky to get the parts and other supplies. I don't think we could have done it if we had waited one minute longer. Just about everything in town had been cleaned out and people were willing to fight and kill for stuff already.”

  As Jose relayed the tale of their adventures, Jess looked to his father with pride, but Lynn was visibly pale.

  Dennis noticed her fear. “Come here, sweetheart,” he said, pulling Lynn's chair closer to his. He held her hand. Lynn stifled a sob and leaned into Dennis's arm, looking down at her lap.

  “How was the highway shopping, Jess?” Dennis asked, diverting the conversation. “We passed some trucks that you had unloaded on the way back.”

  “Great. Bill Johnson, the 'freeway boss', as we call him now, says that we're done,” Jess said. “We put everything in his barn. The whole town is getting together to divide it up at about one o'clock tomorrow. We'll have to take the cart. We won't get it all home in one load either.” His faced beamed.

  “Sounds like you had a pretty good day,” Kelly said.

  “We sure did,” said Jess. “There were two trucks along our stretch of road, about five miles. They had already been broken into, but had a lot of good stuff still left. We had to make three trips with the buckboard. Lots of it was food. Most of it is on pallets that had plastic wrap around them. We didn't take things like toasters or cameras, but there was everything you could imagine. We got about three or four hundred cans of tomatoes off one truck. We got so many cans that we thought we would break the wagon. Some of the bread and bananas and stuff were already stinking. One truck had a bunch of meat and it was rank,” Jared scrunched up his nose, “but we still got the other food. My muscles are sore, but it really was kind of fun. It was like shopping without paying. Bill's going to post a guard, several of them, down at the barn tonight.”

  “Did you see anybody else on the road?” Kelly asked Lynn, trying to include her in the conversation.

  Lynn looked up, pressing her lips together tightly as if trying to gather the strength to speak. “Yep, and we shared things off the trucks when people came up.” She spoke softly at first, then built up steam. “There were only a few folks, like eight or ten of 'em, and they couldn't carry that much. A couple took food away in boxes. They were going to have a hard time getting the cans open, so we showed them how to rub the end of the can on the pavement until the metal wore away. We learned that in CAP. Some of the stuff was produce, like oranges and apples, so we gave that out first because we knew it would go bad quickly if it wasn't eaten. The potatoes were still good, too. Everybody was pretty friendly.”

  “Sure they were—you were handing out food and water,” Rich said.

  “We found water bottles, sports drinks and that mocha coffee stuff too. I know you really like that, Dad.” Lynn looked up at her father and smiled at him for the first time since Jose had started the story about the trip.

  “Should we all go to the divvy in Sunflower tomorrow?” Emma asked.

  “Maybe,” Jess said. “I'm sure everyone will have different ideas about what is important, if we get a choice.”

  “I think Jose and I should stay and fix the well so we don't have to haul water with that torpedo,” Rich said emphatically.

  “We'll have to sort the things we got in Fountain Hills first thing in the morning and get 'em off the cart,” said Kelly. “We went clothes shopping, Lynn,” she said, grinning. “I picked up some of your favorite footwear at the feed store.”

  Lynn rolled her eyes, knowing this would not turn out well. She smiled, tipping her head and batting her eyelashes dramatically. “Yes, I've always wanted a John Deere hat and some rubber boots.”

  “Funny you should mention rubber boots; I picked out the cutest pairs of Ditsy Dots boots with polka dots and horses on them, just for us,” Kelly said, matching Lynn's expression and tone. “We might need them for mucking out the barn,” she cooed. Lynn wrinkled up her nose in mock disgust.

  “Look, Jared's asleep,” Emma pointed toward Jared, who had put his head on the table and was now breathing heavily. “It's probably because of all th
ose pain pills.”

  “I'll take him to bed,” Kelly offered.

  “No, leave him there. I'll help you later,” said Emma.

  “Well, it sounds like Bill's barn is full,” Rich interrupted. “Thank the Lord. But I have to tell you guys something. Now I know you're staying, it's a good time to share my secret.”

  Rich spoke in a softer volume, put both of his arms on the table, and lowered his head, like in the old-time movies when the villain was going to give secret instructions to the other bandits.

  The others mimicked his posture as they waited to hear what he had to say. The sight made Kelly giggle.

  “I've been keeping stuff for an emergency for years,” Rich began. “My old church taught me to keep a year's supply of food and other necessities. When I was younger, I didn't see the need. It seemed that it took all of my money just to keep food on the table for my family, but these days, I've got a pretty good store of provisions. I've also got a few extra ham radios and some other electronics in insulated metal trashcans in case of EMP or solar storm.”

  “No way! Do you think it's safe to bring the radios out?” Jose asked.

  “I've been checking for radioactivity with the dosimeter. This thing changes color if radiation levels are high, and it hasn't changed. It's been a few days now. If this is from a solar storm, it should have passed by now. I'm sure other ham operators have radios stashed, too. There's a government command center buried at the Papago National Guard facility in Phoenix that should be transmitting. Shortwave broadcast stations ought to be transmitting too. I'd like to start listening to see if we can find out how widespread this is. Jose, maybe we can talk to your wife in Iowa, wasn't it?”

  “My dad is in Utah and he's a ham radio operator too. Do you think we could try to reach him?” Kelly asked anxiously. I don't know if he put any radios in trashcans, but my dad has always been the prepared type.”

  “We'll give it a try,” Rich said with a smile, “but the well's got to be our first priority. Once we get that finished, I'll set up the radio and antenna.”