Super Pulse (Book 1): The Grid Goes Black

by Dave Conifer

  Dewey pointed at the privacy fence, the one that only he was tall enough to see over. “He’s in his yard now. Let’s ask him about it.”

  They walked through the new openings in the fences into Matt’s yard. Matt was standing with his hands on his hips, a shovel at his feet in the foot-high, trampled grass. He was staring at a shallow pit filled with black ashes. A metal grate, probably taken from the Weber barbecue that stood a few feet away, lay across the top. Several metal pails and bowls were stacked neatly nearby. “Hey, Matt,” Nick said after Matt looked up. “What’s this? A water factory?”

  “Yeah,” Matt answered. “But I need my fire pit bigger. Then I can boil two buckets at once.”

  “So you’re mastering the art of the shovel?” Nick said, remembering the latrine-digging fiasco. “Good man.”

  “How does it work?” Dewey asked. “Take us through the process.”

  “Yeah,” Nick said. “Anything good to report?”

  Matt’s eyebrows rose. “Seriously? You’re interested?”

  “Of course,” Dewey said. “We’re all going to start getting thirsty pretty soon.”

  “Well, the first thing I had to do was get some water back here for a test run. I wasn’t sure how, so I used that,” he said, pointing at a toy plastic vehicle that was jammed up against the house. It couldn’t have been more purple.

  “A Barney car?” Dewey asked.

  “It’s a hand-me-down from my nephew,” Matt explained. “I was only able to get five jugs into it. Then I rolled it down to the creek.”

  “Did anybody notice what you were doing?” Nick asked. “We don’t want a line of customers in front of your house.”

  “I did it at night,” Matt said. “I brought a flashlight, but I didn’t turn it on until I was back in the woods.” He waved a hand in front of his nose. “That place stinks. I think a lot of people must be using it for a latrine. You really have to watch your step back there.”

  Nick grunted. “Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised, after what I’ve seen around here. Either there or someplace upstream, or both.”

  “So maybe it’s not such a great place to take water from,” Matt said. “But it was just a test, so I filled the jugs anyway and brought them back here. It was a slower trip coming home. The load was heavier, and the jugs kept shifting around. I didn’t get back until the middle of the night. This was all a couple days ago.”

  “And?” Dewey asked, waving his hand in a circular motion. “Like, how’d it go?”

  “Well, once I got the jugs back here,” Matt continued, “I could see all kinds of stuff in it the next morning. Just debris. Leaves and stuff. And maybe some dirt. A lot of sediment.”

  Nick smiled. “Dirt, huh? Just good clean sediment?”

  “I talked myself into that, yeah,” Matt said with a shrug. “So, anyway, I thought getting rid of the sediment and, you know, whatever the rest of it is, was the place to start. I wanted to filter it out, so I had Ellie and the boys hold a folded bed sheet across a bucket, and I poured the water through it. Kind of like a giant coffee machine filter. We did this over and over, cleaning the sheet off as best we could every time. After a while it was almost clear. Just a little cloudy.”

  “Nice,” Nick said. “We could probably build something to hold that sheet and make it a one-man job.”

  “Exactly!” Matt said excitedly. “That’s just what I did! The filter worked pretty good, except it took three people to do it. So I built a gadget that let me do it myself. I actually built something! I made a square out of two-by-fours and attached the folded sheet across it.”

  “Good for you,” Nick said. “I’d like to see it.”

  “I made three of them, actually. Each one’s the right size to fit over a bucket. It isn’t beautiful, but it works. I just need to fix it so it’s easier to get the sheet out to clean it.”

  “Where are these things?” Nick asked.

  “Right over there,” Matt said. I thought I’d keep all my gear in the same place.”

  “So what was next?” Dewey asked. “After you filtered the water?”

  “Okay. So I started with four bowls worth, because, well, I only have four bowls.”

  “They’re metal, right?’ Nick asked. “We can get more, I’ll bet. If this works. Buckets would be better.”

  “So, anyway, then I dug this fire pit, and rolled the Barney car back to the woods to collect firewood,” Matt said. “I did that at night, too, so I wouldn’t attract attention. Then I made a fire and boiled the water in the bowls.”

  “I smelled the fire,” Nick said. “You did that part during the day.”

  “Yeah,” Matt said. “That was yesterday. I thought nobody would notice a fire during the day.”

  “So how’d it come out?” Dewey asked.

  “I don’t know how to test it,” Matt admitted. “I doubt I killed all the germs. There’s no way it’s as clean as city water. But sitting in the jugs, at least, it looks just as good as the stuff that Arctic Rivers delivers.”

  “That’s a great start,” Nick said. “We should think about how this could work. We’re going to need a lot of clean water going forward, that’s for sure.”

  “Sure,” Matt agreed. “I’ll keep at it.”

  “We could streamline the process,” Nick said, his face now wrinkled in thought. “That way we could do bigger runs. And maybe divide up the work. Water collectors, firewood collectors, boilers. We can all go over what Matt’s got set up. Maybe we can make it a smoother process. No offense, Matt. You did a great job with this.”

  “None taken,” Matt said. “I’m just glad to have something useful to do.”

  “Aside from testing the water to see if it’s really clean, I see two main problems to deal with,” Nick said. “Where to get the water, and how to get it back here. We need better transportation so we can carry more stuff and go further for better water. The Barney car didn’t really cut the mustard. It’s too much effort for too little water.”

  “Tell me about it,” Matt said sarcastically.

  “And I’ll add a third problem,” Nick said. “We have to keep this a secret. For now, at least. Until we can produce enough water for everybody, if we ever get to that point.”

  ~~~

  “How far is that supermarket?” Dewey asked later. “I thought I might hike over and see if they’ve got any water left. Or anything else, really.”

  “They might not even be open anymore,” Nick said. “It sounded like they were barely open, last I heard. And that was a long time ago.”

  “I think I’ll try anyway,” Dewey said. “Unless you need me here.”

  “You probably shouldn’t go alone,” Nick said. “You might not be able to carry everything you get. And you never know what you might run into.”

  “Cool,” Dewey said. “You want to come?”

  Nick, Sarah and Dewey ended up walking over to Sholman Plaza. Nick had been planning to bring the rifle, but quietly put it away when Sarah said she’d come along. Except for inspecting Matt’s waterworks, there wasn’t much else to do that day, and they all relished the opportunity to get out of the neighborhood.

  Or almost everybody. As it turned out, Jenny and Ashley preferred to sit the excursion out. After promising to stay locked in the house, and keep away from the windows, Sarah agreed to let them stay back.

  It was eerily quiet once they’d left the development, mostly because there was no automobile traffic. They passed bunches of people walking the other way, people who looked just like them. One time it was a family Nick recognized from the neighborhood. Nick waved at them across the road.

  Most of the groups they encountered were strangers, who eyed Nick’s group just as nervously as they were eyed by them. It bothered Nick that the people coming from the direction of the shopping center were empty-handed. Maybe the stores had closed their doors. Or worse.

  When they turned the corner into the parking lot at Sholman Plaza, a corner that he couldn’t remember ever having turned on
foot before, Nick was shocked when he saw the ACME. A row of about fifteen men, each of whom clearly carried a firearm, formed a ragged line in front of the shattered storefront windows. It was immediately and ominously clear that they were working together to block access to the store, except for a steady column of interlopers who were slipping freely in and out through a gap in the line. The ones going in were empty-handed, but each came out carrying an armload of goods. Looking like disciplined, determined ants, they followed one another in a line past the other storefronts until they disappeared from view.

  Small bands of stragglers were scattered in the parking lot, lurking among the abandoned cars. Occasionally somebody approached the men in front of the store, only to be met by heads shaking a firm “No.” Weapons were usually brandished to underscore the point.

  “They’re looting the store,” Nick said. “We got here too late.” He watched another group as they emerged from inside, each toting a case of bottled water on his shoulder. “They know exactly what to grab, too. Good God. People need that stuff. We need that stuff.”

  “I’m, like, surprised it lasted this long,” Dewey said. They could have done this a long time ago. Maybe they had their reasons.”

  “Who are they?” Sarah asked.

  Nick shrugged. “I don’t recognize any of them, if that’s what you mean.”

  They watched as a man emerged from behind a mini-van, leaving a woman and two small children, and walked across the asphalt with an urgent stride. Wearing jeans and an Eagles jersey, he looked like a typical suburban dad from Crestview or anyplace else in the area. “This isn’t going to end well,” Dewey predicted.

  “Are they living in that van?” Sarah asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Nick said. “I hope not. They weren’t inside it.” His eyes moved between the man and his family. “I feel bad for that guy. His kids are probably dying, and he can’t do anything about it. Only now, it looks like he’s about to try.” He looked away for a moment. “If this nonsense is going on down in Virginia, I hope Val and Jules are faring better than this.”

  The man slowed as he approached the guards, gesturing at the store as if he was negotiating. When he was five feet away he stopped, but continued to talk. One of the guards stepped forward, barking at the man and waving him away. The man held his ground as he pointed back toward his family in the parking lot. The guard shook his head.

  After looking back one more time the man darted forward, attempting to slip between two of the guards. One grabbed his arm, but that wasn’t enough to stop him. Another stalked over and slugged him in the face, knocking him awkwardly to the concrete.

  The man spat what looked like blood onto the sidewalk as he fought his way back to his hands and knees. He looked up and was about to speak again when the first guard kicked him savagely in the ribs.

  “Like, things just got real,” Dewey said.

  The man rolled away from the guards and struggled to stand. The guards waved him away again. This time the man took heed, staggering back to shelter behind the mini-van as Nick, Sarah and Dewey watched in horror. He collapsed into his wife’s arms, his children staring with open-mouths at his bloody face. Meanwhile, back in front of the store, the guards fell back into their original positions. Well, I guess that explains why everybody we saw on the road was empty-handed, Nick thought.

  “He’s just trying to feed his family!” Sarah said. “They look like they have nothing!”

  “That was ugly,” Nick said. “And it could have been any of us. Heck, we were about to try the same thing without knowing any better.”

  “Let’s invite that family to come back with us,” Sarah suggested. “We can’t just leave them here. They’ll starve. Look at those two little boys,” she said, her eyes pleading to Nick and Dewey.

  “We’re starving, too,” Dewey told her. “Or close to it. I hope somebody helps them, but it shouldn’t be us. We’re not much better off than they are. Especially after that family came in and stole most of our food,” he added pointedly.

  “But we are better off!” Sarah argued. “They have nothing!”

  “You don’t know that,” countered Dewey. “Like, anybody looking at us might say the same thing. They could have walked over from a house full of food to get here. For all we know, they’re just here for the Twinkies.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Sarah retorted. “You think he’d subject himself to that if he didn’t have to? For Twinkies?”

  “I was just making a point. But it’s not our problem,” Dewey answered calmly. “We have enough of our own as it is. If we start trying to feed the world, we’ll go down starving right along with them.”

  Sarah gawked at him in disbelief. “You’re a hypocrite. A complete hypocrite. Where would you and I be if Nick hadn’t taken us in?” She shook a finger in his face. “You know exactly where we’d be. We’d still be on that bridge. But Nick did the right thing, and I’ll always be grateful. But now all of a sudden I’m crazy to suggest that we do the same for somebody else? Nick, help me out here.”

  Nick had already been about to weigh in. “Sorry, Sarah. I hear what you’re saying, but I think Dewey’s right,” he said. “We can’t help. We can’t afford to. Things are a lot different now than they were that day on the bridge. I know it sounds bad, but we have to look out for ourselves first.”

  “Wow. Just wow. I really misjudged you guys,” Sarah said angrily, shaking her head.

  “Sarah,” Nick said, trying again to explain himself, “we passed a dozen families like that on our way here. We’ll pass a dozen on the way back. There’s a few dozen more living right there with us in Crestview. Are you going to want to share with all of them, too? It’s just not realistic. We don’t have enough. It doesn’t feel good to say this, but it’s every man for himself now. If we share what little we have with everybody who has less, we’ll all have nothing.”

  “How can you be so selfish?” Sarah shouted. “Why did you stop to help me on the bridge, then? What’s so different?” A scowl crossed her face. “Oh, now I remember. You needed our bikes. I guess we were lucky you didn’t take them and abandon us.”

  “That wasn’t going to happen, and you know it,” Nick said. “But things are different now.”

  “They are? So, let’s say you saw us hiding in that parking lot right now,” Sarah challenged, getting in his face. “Me, Jenny and Ashley, starving to death, just like that family is. Him too,” she added, jerking her head at Dewey. “You wouldn’t help us, the way you did back on the bridge that day?”

  Nick sighed and walked away, but Sarah wasn’t about to let it go. She followed him and stepped into his path. “What would you do? You owe me an answer.”

  Nick’s face hardened. “I don’t owe you anything of the sort, Sarah. And I’m not answering your question. There’s no point in going there. So let’s just drop it.”

  She stared at him. “So this is how you live your life?”

  “It is now,” Nick answered.

  “Get used to it,” said Dewey.

  “Better yet, try not to think about it,” Nick told her. “Until the power comes back on, it’s a different world we’re living in. You have to think differently now. It’s not the land of plenty anymore. Being generous might not be the best way to survive.”

  Sarah stopped arguing, but Nick could see that she was still angry. Or – something. He knew she was always suffering in silence, worried and upset about not being with her husband. Now she was afraid, maybe. He was, too, especially after what they’d just seen. “Let’s get back home,” he said. “Your daughters are by themselves.”

  Without answering, Sarah spun on her heel and started the long walk back. Nobody spoke a word until they reached the house. The girls, looking for a break from the heat but forbidden to go outside, were down in the basement where the air was cooler. Sarah joined them. Later the girls came up for dinner, but Sarah stayed down there until long after night had fallen.

  Twelve

  The rec
onnaissance mission was less eventful after the first hour, when Carlo had cleared the roadway with a blast from his RPG launcher. Bands of ragged men tried to intercept them several times, but except for that first skirmish, they were able to drive around or through them. Only one time was it necessary for Carlo to use force, and even then, all he had done was fire a few dozen rounds over the heads of the on-rushers.

  Their orders included some side trips up highways and into residential areas along the way, to collect information that could help them determine the nature of the emergency and how widespread it was. So for several days they did just that, eating sparingly from the food they’d brought along and parking the van carefully each night, when they took turns guarding and sleeping. They found more of the same wherever they went. No power, not much food, and a lot of scared, desperate people who were dangerously curious about them.

  Not every stranger they encountered was aggressive. There were also passive stragglers, often trudging along the side of the roads. Many stuck out a thumb when they saw the approaching van, hoping for a ride. It felt risky and pointless even to pick anybody up, so they simply blew by the pedestrians without even slowing down.

  Now, however, their trek, which had covered about seventy miles, had been halted in the shadows of a bridge that Roethke had been worrying about ever since they departed that first morning. If they could just get across that bridge, he believed, they could make it all the way to Washington. The capital was still over a hundred miles away, but this was the only bottleneck he’d feared.

  Unlike the makeshift barricades they’d encountered along the way, the barricade on the bridge was sturdy and formidable. It had probably always been there, ready to be swung into place, but Roethke had never noticed it. It wasn’t going to be easy to get around it, if it was even possible. The only thing missing was someone, anyone, manning it.

  As he stopped the van, Roethke remembered asking why it was so important to get to Washington. He’d been told that it wasn’t getting to the city, literally, that mattered. The idea was that the closer they got to the nerve center of the nation, the more likely it was that they would come across information about what had happened and what was being done about it. Unfortunately, he told himself grimly, they weren’t anywhere near the place yet. They’d have to get closer, even it meant backtracking and looking for another route.