EMP: Heading Home

by Harp, Wilson

  In many ways it reminded me of Kenton. A little farm might have a big garden out back, an acre maybe three, and surrounding the buildings and house were wide, fertile fields. These fields would all be designated for specific crops to meet the needs of the base. I was positive the general could tell at a glance of a map which crops were to be grown where. We had done the same thing in Kenton, and it only made sense the military would do it on a much larger scale.

  “That’s about the sixth group of cows we passed,” Ted said. “And I count no more than ten per herd. Why?”

  Captain Wilkes shrugged. “I’m not sure. But I know nobody is to keep more than ten cows, five horses, or twenty chickens at any single farm.”

  “Makes sense,” Anne said. “A fire or an outbreak of disease can wipe out a whole herd. You keep them separate so you don’t lose a large group at once.”

  We approached a small town which seemed to be active and full of life. It had some odd Native American name and seemed a quintessential small town like Kenton. There was no damage to the buildings I saw and no indications there had been troubles.

  Wilkes smiled as we looked around.

  “Mascoutah is a military town,” he said. “A lot of military retirees and active duty families live here. It was a bedroom community for the air base before the event.

  “When the EMP happened, the people of the town pulled together immediately. When General Andrews sent the first troops here, he found many retirees and active duty personnel already organized. Some had marched down the road toward the base to find out what they should do.”

  “I’m guessing it’s like this around many military bases. Not all, though,” Kenny said.

  Wilkes tilted his head. “Maybe. This is a headquarters base. A base of consequence. Whatever happened here, it was a godsend. Lots of farm fields and lots of manpower willing to do what needed to be done”

  “The crops last year were sufficient to feed everybody at the base?” I asked.

  Of the four of us from Kenton, I was the most familiar with the fields. I had volunteered in the fields pretty much every day to plant, weed, tend and harvest. I couldn’t imagine not having enough food and I wanted to make sure everybody was well fed. I learned a lot from the older farmers and those who had done extensive gardening.

  “Rations get thin at times,” Wilkes said. “But we haven’t had any serious problems. Of course, we do forage into Belleville occasionally and our men bring back crates of canned food at times. At least early on they did. The pickings are starting to turn slim.”

  “No riots? No outbreaks? No disease?” Ted asked.

  Captain Wilkes smiled. “I know you’re curious, but technically you’re still prisoners. I probably shouldn’t say too much until your fate has been decided by the court.”

  “Court? I thought the general was in charge?” Anne asked.

  “He is, but he doesn’t handle every decision. We have a whole structure set up for that.”

  “How many people are we talking about at the base?” Ted asked

  “I probably shouldn’t be giving out numbers, but I would say we have over 30,000 people living on the base itself. It’s packed pretty tight.”

  I felt my jaw slide open. I couldn’t imagine 30,000 people all part of a single community.

  “How do you maintain order?” I asked. “Even among a well behaved population there’s going be troublemakers with that many people around.”

  “It’s a regimented life,” Wilkes said. ”You’ll see once we arrive. Troublemakers don’t last long. The general brought order right away. People have rights but they’ve been suppressed at times until we got everything secure.”

  “Draconian laws,” Ted said.

  “I would say we just don’t put up with nonsense. In the past, nonsense was a nuisance which ate up time and money. Now nonsense costs lives and we won’t have it. If you want to cause problems which could cost people their lives, don’t do it around us. If you do, you won’t do it a second time.”

  I saw Kenny nod out of the corner of my eye as Wilkes spoke. In many ways, this was the attitude he had applied when it came to Brent Talley and his thefts. A minor violation of the law in the past could be chalked up to naivety or carelessness or selfishness. Now that kind of behavior could kill people. There is no cushion for people to fall back on. If someone were knocked over in a robbery, or injured trying to prevent a thief from taking their hard earned possessions, they could die with no medical care available. There would be no insurance to recover what was stolen, and often no way to replace it even if there was enough money. If the military adhered to this draconian mentality, then we needed to watch our step and make sure we didn’t appear to be a danger to them.

  We approached the base at dusk. The gate we marched through was well guarded, but relaxed. There was a line of people heading out, and a few in front of us checking in. Our column of soldiers marched through a side entrance opened by the guards. When we reached the gatehouse, Wilkes signed a paper after he verified our names with the gate office. As the soldiers entered, they were dismissed and scattered to their own quarters. Wilkes ordered two of his men to stay with him as he escorted us to where the prisoners were being held. The location of the holding area was clear on the other side of the base, and it was another long stretch before we arrived. We passed lots of housing, walked around the flight line, and even cut through an old golf course on the way. A small gate house stood sentry over two broken down buildings at the base of a large hill. As we approached the first building, several soldiers left their post and headed toward us.

  “Looks like you picked up some stragglers, Wilkes,” one of the guards said.

  “Did indeed,” Wilkes said. He sounded as tired as I felt.

  “How far out were they?”

  “Picked them up at Ava. They came up from the south.”

  “Not much further south than Ava.”

  Wilkes laughed. “Not for a good distance, but these here are from south of Cape.”

  “They’ve had a trip, then. Are they trouble?”

  “No, put them in the guesthouse. They’re not going to cause problems. No need for the pit.”

  The guards, thankfully, agreed to bunk us down in the guesthouse. I didn’t like the idea of being put in any place called the pit.

  Wilkes turned back to us after he had handed over the paperwork to the guards. “Just don’t leave this area without one of the guards as an escort. The facilities are down the hall and if you try to escape, they will shoot you.”

  We understood our situation.

  “Your hearing should be early in the morning, so this’ll probably just be a simple overnight stay. Good luck to you,” Captain Wilkes said. He shook our hands and left us with the guards.

  “Is there anything we can get for you?” one of the guards asked.

  I stared at him openly. “We’re under arrest, right?”

  “If you were trouble, you wouldn’t be in the guesthouse. But that’s what this really is. A house for our guests. If Wilkes thinks you won’t have any problems with the hearing, I’m sure this will be a one night stay.”

  “Thank you,” Ted said. “I think we just need to sleep.”

  The guard nodded and led us to a fairly comfortable room with four cots and plenty of room. We found our beds and I fell asleep as soon as I closed my eyes.

  Chapter 11

  We were awakened before dawn and taken to an office building on the base. We left our gear in the guesthouse and walked briskly with the sullen and grumpy escort we had been assigned. The hearing was surprisingly quick. An older man with sharp eyes and a sharper tongue asked us a series of seemingly incongruent questions. Then he separated us and asked us four or five questions each. We answered him, and before time for breakfast, we were dismissed. We were told to return to the judicial center at the noon bell to learn what he had decided.

  We felt a lift when we were told to go to the guesthouse and gather our gear and we would be assigned a plac
e to stay on the base itself.

  As we gathered our things, though, we saw evidence of how the base enforced its strict rules. What I didn’t see in the pre-dawn light was the long row of gallows which looked well used behind the buildings used as prisons. Beyond the gallows were fresh turned piles of dirt in long rows. Dozens of fresh graves had been filled in and there were hundreds more which looked much older.

  “I guess that’s what happens to those who don’t follow the rules,” I said.

  “I think more for those who cause grave concern,” said Ted. “Murderers, thieves and the like.”

  “What if they press us into service?” asked Anne. “I don’t want to live and work here. Not under this type of rule. Not when we have Kenton to go back to.”

  “We’ll just have to convince them we should be free to go,” said Ted.

  This worried me. I had led my friends out from their homes. Life wasn’t perfect in Kenton, but I realized how comfortable it was compared to many places. If we were pressed into service at the base, I would feel awful and the regret would eat away at me.

  We had just gathered our things when Kenny was told by one of the guards he was expected at the medical center. We volunteered to go with him, but he insisted we get a good look at the base and learn what we could.

  We wandered around the base and found several marketplaces. There were a wide variety of goods and I could imagine Kenton having something like this, only on a smaller scale. There were stalls set up which sold winter vegetables, homemade preserved foods, and even a few which seemed to specialize in pre-event canned goods. Several places looked like piles of junk people rummaged through. I thought about Bill the fish merchant. He said people of enterprise would find ways to improve their lives, and it certainly seemed that spirit was alive and well on the base.

  “Look,” Anne said. She pointed out a stall which had a line of people standing before it.

  There was a woman massaging a man sitting in a chair. A sign on her stall offered a 15 minute neck and shoulder massage for 30 scrip. It was the middle of winter and yet she had three people waiting their turn.

  “I wonder if she can actually make a living giving people chair massages,” Anne said.

  “If she has people lined up like that, probably,” I said. “Although she may only do this to make a little extra money.”

  I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked over to see a young man.

  “Mister Riggins?” he asked.

  I pointed at Ted. “He’s Mister Riggins.”

  “How can I help you?” Ted asked.

  “General Andrews would like to speak with you and your traveling associates,” he said. “If you will follow me.”

  “It’s not noon yet,” I said to Ted as the young man turned and walked away from us.

  “I know, but if the general wants to speak to us, I think that’s more important than hearing our verdict.”

  We hurried behind the messenger as he wove his way through the crowds of people. Eventually, he came to a large brick building and pointed at the main door.

  “Just tell them you are here for General Andrews.” He turned and dashed away.

  “Maybe he’s paid by the message,” Ted muttered.

  The building which housed the general was imposing. It was made entirely of brick and had darkened windows. It wasn’t overly tall, but it took up a whole city block.

  We entered the doors and found ourselves in a nice lobby. It was almost as if we had stepped back a year. There were lamps lit, the warmth of a central heating unit, and everything was spotless. Someone spent considerable time keeping the lobby clean and shiny.

  My eyes scanned around the room, and then jerked back to see Kenny sitting cross-legged in a padded easy chair reading a magazine.

  “Kenny, what’s the news?” Ted asked.

  “Doc says it looks good and shouldn’t get infected.”

  “What about any meds?” Anne asked.

  Kenny shook his head. “Nothing they can do. We just have to pray.”

  “How did you get here?” I asked.

  “Message came while I was at the med center. Told me to come here and wait for you. Didn’t say why.”

  “General Andrews sent a message to us to come and meet with him,” I said.

  “Let’s not keep him waiting,” said Ted as he pointed to a reception desk.

  The desk was clean and tidy as was the woman who sat behind it. Her hair was streaked with gray and was pulled back in a tight bun. She kept working as we approached.

  Ted cleared his throat and she glanced up.

  “May I help you?” she asked.

  “We’re here to see General Andrews.”

  “Is the general expecting you?”

  “We had a messenger tell us he wanted to meet with us.”

  “Susan,” the woman yelled.

  A door opened behind the reception desk and a young woman looked out.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Please check with the general and see if he has asked to see…” she looked at Ted and raised an eyebrow.

  “Ted Riggins,” he said.

  “See if the general wishes to see Ted Riggins and company.”

  The young woman headed off on her assignment.

  “You are welcome to have a seat while you wait,” the receptionist said.

  The dismissal was evident, so we wandered back over to the seating area and settled into the surprisingly comfortable chairs near the front doors.

  We had barely relaxed and taken off our packs when Susan appeared again and spoke briefly with the woman at the front desk.

  “The general will see you now,” she declared.

  Susan waved to us as we approached. “Please follow me,” she said.

  She led us down a long hallway which twisted and turned several times. Doors, securely shut, punctuated the hall at regular intervals. Eventually the hall ended in a heavy door. It was thick frosted glass with a burnished steel frame.

  She pushed the door open and said, “General Andrews, your out-of-town guests are here.”

  Her voice echoed and reverberated inside the room.

  “Send them down,” a voice replied with the same echo.

  She turned back to us. “Please take care on the stairs. He’s expecting you.”

  She slipped back down the hallway and left us at the door. I pushed the door open and saw it opened onto a very large stairwell. The stairs ended just a few floors above us, but they spiraled downward for hundreds of feet, it appeared. There was a glow about five or six floors below.

  We started down the steps and our footsteps echoed through the empty space, but no one stuck their head out to see us. There were several voices in conversation, but it was muffled and muted to the point I couldn’t make out any words.

  We reached the fifth floor down and saw the door propped open. Bright light flooded out toward us and we stepped in. My eyes adjusted to the light and I spotted a man in the shadows just inside the room.

  “Welcome,” he said. “I’m General Andrews’ aide, Brian. If you will follow me, he will be with you shortly.”

  He guided us into a cavernous room. Four or five men stood around a large, high table moving things and staring intently. Another man was at one of the many white boards which circled the table and read numbers from them. The general was seated at a desk just beyond the men at the table. He had his head down and nodded each time the man at the white board read another series of numbers. On our right were a row of doors separated with broad windows which looked out onto the main room. We were led to one of the doors.

  “Please wait in the conference room. The meeting is almost over, and I know General Andrews is anxious to speak with you,” Brian said.

  The conference room was warm and clean. A long table with eight standard office chairs took up the majority of space and an empty and unused coffee maker stood on a small table in the corner. The room was dimly lit from what light made its way through the tinted glass of the windo
w.

  We set our packs down, settled into the chairs, and waited.

  “I’m guessing this building was constructed in case of a nuclear attack. Since the general set up on these floors and the lighting still works, I would say the EMP didn’t penetrate this far,” said Ted

  “Where are they getting the power from?” Anne asked. “A generator?”

  “Probably, but that means they have a supply of fuel as well. The fuel can’t last indefinitely.”

  I glanced up and saw General Andrews and Brian walk toward us. The general wrote on a clipboard as he walked. Brian talked and pointed back at the table where the men had been just a minute before. The table and the white boards were abandoned. The general handed the clipboard to Brian as they approached the room. The door opened and General Andrews stepped in, alone.

  “Welcome travelers from the south,” he said. “I hope you didn’t find your accommodations too uncomfortable last night. I understand you had your hearing this morning.”

  He spoke like they were questions, but they were statements. He knew everything which had occurred.

  “We’re waiting for the results of our hearing. We appreciate your hospitality, and I’m sure we could use a few days to rest up before we continue on our journey,” Ted said.

  “Ted Riggins, the savior of Kenton. One of the most capable men in the Southern Missouri region that we know of,” Andrews said. “It was a great relief to hear about a town of survivors we didn’t need to come and take control of.”

  “What do you mean take control? You mean a military dictatorship?” Anne asked.

  “Yes miss, that’s exactly what I mean. Military dictatorship. If we say it, you do it. Kenton is unusual. There are fifteen towns in my jurisdiction which accomplished what you folks did. And Kenton was the largest. Considering I have over 600 towns and villages under my command, you can see how rare that is.”

  “And you’re in charge?” Kenny asked. “You’re the top dog of this whole operation?”

  “I’m the top dog here. This is the Midwest Command center for the U.S. military’s efforts to try to piece this world back together.”