by Ellis, Tara
It was hard for Patty to contemplate realistically beyond a few days. The longest they’d been without power was a week, but last year they’d bought a fancy new generator so it wouldn’t happen again. And the expensive machine now sat useless on the side of the house, just as dead as the rest of the devices with any electrical components.
Caleb grabbed their packs from the table and led the way outside past the garage and to the stables. Their two quarter horse geldings stamped and snorted in greeting. Patty moved to comfort her horse, Patterson, and did so by looping an arm around his neck and leaning into him, cheek to cheek. He was always an affectionate horse and happily put up with all sorts of baby talk. She could tell he was on edge, which made sense. The horses were always antsy before a big storm or any change in the weather and she imagined that whatever had happened was having a similar effect.
They deftly saddled the horses and then started out at a trot toward their long, private gravel driveway. It led to a country road that wound its way down the hill and eventually into the town of Mercy. The ten or so miles normally took fifteen minutes to navigate by vehicle but it would be a much longer trip on horseback.
As they rounded the back of the house and the valley came into view, Patty gasped and pulled up on the reins. Several columns of thick black smoke rose from the far end of town. She felt queasy.
“We can’t do anything from here,” Caleb said flatly, moving past her.
“Should we check in on Sandy?” Patty suggested as the gravel changed to blacktop. Sandy Miller was their nearest neighbor, but the Miller ranch was set back even farther on the mountain.
Caleb twisted in his saddle. “How about we stop in on our way home? Maybe we’ll have some answers by then that we can share with her and Tom.”
“I don’t think Tom is there,” Patty said, worried that her friend was alone. “He wasn’t supposed to get back with Ethan until late tonight. Hopefully they’ll be here before dark. Unless… You don’t think…?”
Caleb shrugged and turned back around. “Let’s just get to town, Patty. It doesn’t do any good to guess.”
Her anxiety increased with each of the three stalled, vacant cars they passed, and a fourth plume of smoke rose to join the others. At one point she could hear yelling in the distance and for whatever reason, the sound of another person in this twisted reality made it all the more tangible.
After an hour and a half, they reached the outskirts of town. It had been a long time since Patty rode in on horseback and the serene perspective was nearly enough to make her forget the dark smoke hanging over them for a moment. Even at the base of the Lewis and Clark National Park, Mercy sat at an elevation of more than four thousand feet. The mountains consisted mostly of ponderosa and lodgepole pines and was one of the few areas in the states that still had grizzly bears and wolves. It was one of the oldest reserves and the expanse around them was considered true wilderness. It was why she and Caleb loved it so much, and what drew most of the inhabitants of Mercy.
There was just one way in and one way out of the steep valley where the town sat, and the nearest metropolis was Helena, more than an hour away by car. With seven hundred and ten residents, Mercy consisted of two restaurants, one combination grocery/gas station, two bars, and a church. It would have only had one restaurant and bar if it wasn’t for the tourist industry that kept the town afloat. Three gift shops and two coffee stands were the biggest employers, aside from the surrounding cattle ranches. The valley and low hills were prime for cattle and aside from extreme winters, a rancher’s dream location.
As they reached the first block of residential homes, Patty could see clusters of people standing in their yards. Young children ran around playing, squealing with laughter and the normalcy of it lightened her mood. It was short-lived.
“Mayor Patty!”
A middle-aged man ran toward them, waving his arms. “What’s going on? Carl Pritchard came by and said the transfer station is on fire! We haven’t heard any sirens. Was there an attack? Was that the light?”
Patty looked to Caleb and shook her head, unsure how to answer the man. The transfer station was at the far end of town, and routed all the power for Mercy. She wanted to believe it could be something so simple, but knew most likely it was only another symptom of a larger issue.
“Sean, right?” Caleb asked evenly.
The man nodded, confirming his name.
“We know less than you right now, Sean. We’re on our way to get some answers.”
“And once we do,” Patty interjected, “I’ll be calling a town meeting. Until then, please do your best to remain calm and take care of each other.”
Grunting with dissatisfaction despite accepting the answer, Sean ran back to his family, and Patty moved up next to Caleb. “The transfer station?”
“It makes sense,” Caleb said gruffly, obviously concerned. “This surge was so intense, or what’s called ‘front loaded’, that it didn’t even trip any circuits, which is why the transformers didn’t blow. The charge simply bypassed them and delivered a direct blow to every electrical circuit at once. It must have fried the substation at the same time, causing a massive build-up of energy in an instant.”
Patty thought of the remote location of the station and was thankful it was surrounded by a tall concrete wall with a wide clearance of trees around it. The fire should be limited to the equipment, even without the ability to fight it. But it was obvious from the plumes of smoke around the town that there was more than one fire. They’d have to resort to bucket brigades if none of the equipment at the two-truck volunteer fire station was working. It was hard to breathe under the weight of the situation.
“Come on.” She urged Patterson forward with a more resolute sense of purpose. Main Street was one block ahead and she could already see a group of townspeople milling about and hear them shouting. As mayor, they’d all be turning to her for answers. “I better get to City Hall before Gary organizes a coup.”
Chapter 8
ETHAN
Outside Pocatello, Idaho
Ethan sat looking at his belongings and did his best to think rationally about a situation that made absolutely no sense. He was leaning against the edge of the bed in the bunkhouse, doing his sorting, while his dad got the horses out of the trailer. He was having a hard time sitting still and concentrating long enough to make a decision.
He’d brought two duffel bags and a backpack full of his stuff for the summer visit. Only he’d brought more than usual this time, because he didn’t plan on going back to his mom’s.
Guilt coursed through him again, and Ethan swallowed around the rising lump in his throat. He loved his mom, and her husband Gary was a nice enough guy, but he’d never think of him as his dad. He tried too hard, constantly buying him stuff he didn’t want or need. The fancy house in the desert had never felt like home and after three years, Ethan still didn’t have any close friends.
Mercy was where he belonged. Nothing compared to the mountains, the smell of the woods and the big sky that made him feel wild and free. He and his dad might butt heads sometimes, but at least it was real. There were no awkward moments of silence or forced friendliness trying to win his affection. He knew where he stood with his dad and that no matter what, he’d always love him, even if he had a hard time showing it.
Shaking his head and forcing himself to focus, Ethan set his tablet aside, as well as the newest Nintendo system. They were worthless now and took up valuable space. He hesitated over a thick photo album his mom didn’t even know he had. It contained pictures from back when he was a baby, all the way up to the past school year. If his mom’s plane didn’t make it… Ethan stuffed it in the bottom of one of the duffel bags, along with two changes of clothes and a sweatshirt.
The other bag in hand, he moved to the two small cabinets with the intent of taking anything edible, but an odd rumbling sound stopped him. Tilting his head, he listened, confused as to what it could be. It was getting louder… There’s no way it coul
d be an earthquake, he thought, although the day was already full of the implausible.
Throwing the door open, he leaped outside in time to see his dad struggling with two of the horses. The third one was closest to him and starting to bolt. Dropping the bag, Ethan grabbed for the lead rope and leaned back into it. Fortunately, the painted quarter horse had a soft mouth and a level head, so he was able to get him under control.
“Ethan, the trailer!” Tom yelled over the rising noise.
Once outside, Ethan realized the sound was coming from the woods to the south of the road, and getting closer. Before he could respond to his dad’s command, a huge bull elk with massive velvety antlers crashed through the underbrush and landed in the road. Although less than fifty feet away, it didn’t even glance in their direction, stumbling slightly on the concrete before leaping across and into the woods on the opposite side of the highway.
Tom and Ethan stood frozen in shock and watched as dozens of elk followed. Most of them were female but there were other bulls thrown into the mix, all of them panicked. The whites of their eyes rolled and their mouths frothed, and several of them were screaming as they ran, an eerie wailing sound that echoed through the trees.
The lead rope went taught again, and Ethan nearly lost it as it ripped through his hands as the quarter horse reared, screaming in fear. He moved with the horse, allowing him to put more space between them and the wild animals until he stopped panicking.
As the pounding of hooves and wails faded, the last of the stragglers emerged from the dense vegetation. Ethan noticed something was wrong with their fur. Taking a tentative step toward them, he fought against his fear to get a better view of the retreating animals. He reeled back again when he realized their hind quarters were smoldering.
Pulling his horse over to where his dad stood, Ethan pointed at another elk with bare patches on its back. “Dad, they’re burned!”
Tom was already moving. Tying the other two horses to the trailer, he ran and picked up Ethan’s dropped bag as the last of the elk disappeared from sight.
“Do you smell smoke?” Ethan asked, his sense of urgency rising. “Because I smell smoke.”
Tom simply nodded in agreement, and then gestured to the gelding Ethan was still holding on to. “Tie him off, and then let’s get the rest of our things. We need to move now.”
Ethan hurried to follow his dad into the bunkhouse and rushed to gather the rest of his things.
“Are you done?” Tom barked, his demeanor more frenzied than before.
“Um, I’m almost done, but I wasn’t sure what you’d want to take.” Ethan moved back out of his dad’s way and gestured to the items he had laid out on the small table. “None of the lights work. There are a few candles left. I found one pocket knife, a tiny first aid kit, some bug spray, and a Glo Stick.”
Tom grunted in response. “It’s better than nothing.” He reached out and swept all of it into the bag. “Roll up the two blankets from the bed and get all the water bottles, including the ones in the garbage.” His words were rushed, and he kept looking out the open door. “We can use the tarp I always keep in the trailer for a make-shift shelter if we end up being outside long enough to need one.”
“Do we have any rope?” Ethan asked while moving around and doing what his dad ordered.
“One old fifty-foot length of nylon rope, but it’ll get the job done.”
Ethan watched as his dad got his own backpack and added some other things from the cupboard to it. Then he took his long-sleeved flannel shirt off the wall hook and crammed it in. “You have a jacket, right?”
Ethan nodded. “A jacket and a sweatshirt.”
“Good. I know it’s hot, but I want you in long sleeves and a hat while the sun is out.” Tom grabbed a ballcap and tossed it to Ethan. “You’re going to wish you’d broken down and got yourself a real hat like I told you to.”
Ethan managed a grin at his dad as he shoved the cap on his head. “I’ll manage.”
Scooping up the bags, Tom turned back to the door. “If you start to feel like your face is burning, let me know and we’ll swap,” he said while tugging at the brim of his cowboy hat.
Ethan followed his dad outside, juggling the empty water bottles and blankets. Jogging over to the shade, he donned the sweatshirt before putting the backpack on. The next few hours were going to be very hot, until the sun went down. Staring at the tops of the nearest trees, he tried to determine if he could see smoke. He swore he could smell it.
Tom was using the tarp like a saddle blanket on the smallest of the horses, and then tied the two duffel bags, the blankets, and a bag of oats to her back. She didn’t seem to mind.
The two mares and gelding were good-looking stock and appeared to have come through everything unscathed. His dad, on the other hand, was sporting a weird sunburn that made Ethan’s stomach clench painfully.
“There’s only one saddle,” Ethan pointed out the obvious.
Tom moved up next to Ethan and cinched down the one prized possession on the gelding. He smiled and didn’t look away from his work. “Since both the horse and saddle are yours, I figure it makes the most sense for you to use it.”
Ethan blinked a few times, unable to process the information. “What do you mean?”
His dad slapped him on the back before looking up at the sky with a worried expression. “This isn’t exactly how I envisioned telling you happy birthday, but Tango here is yours, Ethan. Now, let’s get the water and get out of here. You were right, I can smell smoke now.”
Ethan rested a hand on Tango’s muscular neck, though there wasn’t time for him to appreciate the gift. His heart racing, he ran into the trailer with the water bottles and they filled them as fast as possible.
Once back outside, the smoke was more obvious as they stuffed the water bottles into each other’s backpacks and then sprinted for the horses. Ethan climbed up into the saddle and watched as his dad expertly leapt onto the remaining mare. Other than an old saddle blanket, he was riding bareback, but fortunately he was an expert rider.
With his dad leading the third horse by a length of cut rope, they urged their mounts into a gallop. A surge of exhilaration briefly overrode his fear as the powerful horse moved under him, and Ethan looked back over his shoulder at the smoke-filled woods, wondering if they were really running from the fire, or into it.
Chapter 9
DANNY
North end of Salt Lake City, Utah
Danny was shoved from behind, and she landed on her hands and knees in a sea of confused and terrified people. Someone yanked at her backpack. She and Sam had been forced off the main highway due to a section of it collapsing and found themselves in the middle of a looted business district with no obvious way out.
“Hey!” Struggling to her feet, Danny spun to face her assailant. A middle-aged man with a bloodied face still had hold of her shoulder strap. He was wearing a suit and tie.
He sneered at her, his eyes wild and bloodshot. “Give it to me!”
Pulling away to throw him off balance, she swept the man’s left knee with a solid kick. As he let go to grab at his leg, Danny leapt past him and collided with Sam.
“We have to get out of here!” His lip was bleeding and his glasses were crooked.
Before she could answer, gunshots rang out, and the crowd froze momentarily before exploding in a fresh surge of panic. Something solid hit Danny in the right arm and a searing pain tore through her body. Gasping against the unexpected assault, she staggered against Sam while a two-by-four-wielding teen ran past them and slammed the club down on another man’s head.
Danny fought forward through the mob, elbowing any obstacles and lowering her shoulder into the backs of anyone not moving. Looking desperately at the street signs, she finally spotted the one they were looking for.
“Over there!” Danny pointed to a side street with her good arm and Sam simply nodded as they ran for it. They’d made it through the first few treacherous miles and she refused to accept f
ailure because of one bad decision.
The road curved between two burning buildings, and they followed it, soot raining down on them, until it rose and merged into an on-ramp to the freeway. Danny started to smile with relief until she realized the bare skin of her arm was burning. Batting at the burning embers, she smeared her own blood, and pulling her hand away, saw it was dripping with it.
“Danny.” Sam’s voice had an edge to it.
Others trying to escape the riots brushed past her as Danny twisted her right arm, revealing a three-inch gash on her bicep. “That board must have had a nail in it,” she muttered. Shrugging off the coveted backpack, she dropped to one knee and struggled to unzip it with one hand.
Sam knelt down next to her and took over, removing the first aid kit they’d taken from the trunk of the rental car. “I know I’m not the medic, but I think you’re going to need more than a Band-Aid.”
Danny grinned. “I’ve seen a lot worse.” Gritting her teeth, she wiped at the wound with an alcohol pad before sticking a four-inch gauze pad on it. “Here,” she ordered, handing a small Ace wrap to Sam. “Wrap it up nice and tight with this. Not like a tourniquet, just to add some direct pressure. It could use some stitches, but it’s not that deep.”
While Sam played doctor, Danny noticed some especially dark smoke rising up from under the overpass. Leaning forward, she could just make out the back end of an oil car sitting sideways on the tracks. “Sam…”
Sam dropped the remains of the first aid supplies back into Danny’s bag while glancing at the wrecked train.. He slipped the shoulder straps onto her back and then pulled her to her feet. “Yeah. I think we better hurry.”