Dark Days Rough Roads dd-1

by Matthew D. Mark

  He looked over at the housekeeping director and asked him how long before the trash cans were full, the outside dumpsters overflowing and the rodent control would lapse. “Two days. That’s all,” he said. Haliday said, “You could add that to the infectious disease issues and realize things would be getting far worse much faster than anyone could expect.”

  The food services department piped in and said the spoiling of fresh food would start within days, the freezer would stay cold a few days and the fridge maybe two. Haliday informed him the food would be gone in a matter of 2-3 days tops anyway with this many people looking to eat and more people surely to show up thinking a hospital is a safe haven. There wouldn’t be any food deliveries each day like they normally had.

  Haliday looked around once more and told them these were basic issues that people took for granted. “Look around,” he said. “Look how dependent we are on technology. IV pumps no longer working, pain med pumps not giving people morphine and other drugs, no blood pressure monitors, no pulse ox meters, no telemetry, no nothing.” Haliday continued, “What you now have is a lot of people who need to leave before a lot of people start a slow painful death.”

  It wouldn’t be a good place to be and he started heading for the door and said, “I surely won’t be here more than the time it takes me to get my personal stuff out of my truck and leave myself. That brings up another point, good luck starting your cars and making it home.” Some of the people commuted 30 to 50 miles one way. He paused only briefly to look around at the folks who still didn’t get it, although a couple of them had excused themselves for one reason or another, most likely on their way out the door as well.

  In the meantime, during this little meeting, all hell was breaking loose around the facility. The surgical center and outpatient procedures center were trying desperately to wrap things up and stabilize patients. Unfortunately for one, there was no hope. As soon as the equipment stopped, there was no suction for clearing the surgical sites, there were no blood pressure monitors to alert anyone of low blood pressure and old fashioned cuffs were a thing of the past due to mercury content. Most of the OR equipment was electronically controlled, so it had failed. It was a fast crash and thankfully the patient had not woken up from the anesthetic.

  Up on one of the long-term care floors, they had six people on ventilators. The nurses and patient care associates were all trying to manually vent these patients, but were tiring very quickly. Screams for more staff to come and help fell on deaf ears. There were simply too many patients to care for in a situation like this. The staff was tiring out very quickly.

  Too many patients needed care and too little staff was in the facility. Someone needed to triage now and make a determination of who would live and who they would have to let go. The grand idea of saving everyone was just that, a grand idea. If they knew what the next few days would be like, they would walk away now. It was a noble idea to try and wait things out, to help the patients, but it was a risk they shouldn’t take.

  Some of the staff already started leaving. A few years back, they had had a massive power outage in the state and even with the emergency generators running and limited power, they left in droves to go home and take care of themselves. Roughly 30 percent had left then and almost the same amount refused to come into work.

  Housekeeping, food service, maintenance, and other support staff. They were underpaid and would not care about working to keep the place running. Knowing it was a permanent problem they would care even less. These workers would impact how quickly the facility would fail.

  Haliday stopped just before exiting the building as another guy was shaking a snack machine. He looked at Haliday and asked him if he knew how to get a refund. Haliday pulled out his knife, which had a window punch on the end, and pressed it against the glass. The glass shattered. Haliday reached in and grabbed a few candy bars, and told the guy to help himself.

  Haliday walked out to his car and passed by a few others doing the same. The only difference was he was going out to get his pack and gear and they were sitting there trying to start their cars. He heard an engine start and looked in the direction of the noise where he saw an old Ford F100. As odd as it was to see a running vehicle; it didn’t surprise him.

  As it slowly crawled through the parking lot passing a few cars dead in the aisles, the driver stopped just as Haliday put his pack on and loaded his rifle, readying himself for his walk home. The driver was an older guy in his late 60’s and he looked at Haliday and asked him where he was heading. Haliday said, “East.” Shockingly the driver told him he was heading that way and offered him a ride.

  Haliday was not too sure about the proposal, but eyeing the passenger seat he saw a smaller bag and an empty pistol case for a pistol which he noted was strapped on the old guy’s thigh. Good company to be in. Haliday started to refuse and the old guy said, “Hey, I’m looking for a little security until I get out of this crack hood and you seem to be one of the only ones who knows what’s going on, so I’m taking a chance.”

  “I saw a gal in uniform get in her car, change, then pull a bike out of the trunk with a pack and she took off before I could call to her. I’m thinking by your squared away looks you two were friends,” he said. Haliday smiled and nodded, then told the old guy he could stay with him about 20 miles due east and that was it. The old guy said that was fine with him. There was a different setting altogether in that direction.

  The two pulled out onto the road, dodging cars here and there and drove a bit in silence as they passed by people standing in the road and on the sidewalks. There were actually a couple other cars running, older, but it was evident they were just old, not selected or prepped like this old Ford was. They talked a bit about just a little of this and that, no real subject and neither brought up the EMP or the future. After about 30 minutes, Haliday said he was ready to bail and the old guy stopped the truck in a clear area of the road as no one was nearby.

  Haliday shook his hand, told him thank you and wished him the best of luck. The old guy said, “You’re quite welcome and I pray you keep safe.”

  Haliday said, “Well sir, right now we all need to pray.” People started heading their way and Haliday told him he better get going and waved goodbye as he started off to the shoulder of the road and toward an access road. He heard the drum of the old Ford’s engine dwindle away. He laughed out loud, even spoke out loud, “Yep, we all need to pray.”

  Chapter 2

  He stepped down off the shoulder of the road, took a few more steps to cross over the ditch and the ground under his feet felt spongy. When he looked closer, he could see the soil was wet and since there had not been any rain in the past few days, he didn’t know why. He squatted down a bit to pick up a leaf, which was halfway in the muck, and grabbed it by the dry stem and took a quick sniff.

  It was definitely water and not sewage, which he thought it might have been. At least that was a good sign. Sewage would bring disease real quick and he wasn’t sure how long the municipal waste system would last. He was still on well water and a septic field, so he didn’t pay much attention to that.

  Slowly standing up he looked around and saw a younger guy working under the hood of his car like it was going to do him any good. Looking past the car, he saw a substation for the water system. Out here in the suburbs, he was really not far from the Detroit city limit, give or take 12 miles or so, and the water that was used was purchased from the city of Detroit. It was pumped throughout Lower Michigan with these little pump stations scattered around all over to help boost water pressure.

  Toward the east side of the fence line, there was a large pipe coming out of the ground in a sweeping elbow which reminded him of the air intakes on old ships. This one, however, was dumping water into a retention pond which apparently had overflowed a while ago. Off toward the actual substation building, he spotted another guy who looked to be working on valves. The man was feverishly turning valves on this pipe, more valves on that pipe, and it looked like a losing
battle. Haliday was interested in this and started heading that way.

  The young kid working on his car looked up at Haliday and then turned white. The kid started to visibly tremble at the sight. Haliday had not realized it at the time, but at this particular moment looking at a guy with a .40 caliber strapped to his belt and carrying a rifle slung on his pack was just not normal in this area. Haliday said, “Take it easy kid, just moving on through to go check out that water plant.” The kid got inside his car and just watched as Haliday strode by. Coming up a little closer to the substation, he saw a sign warning trespassers of an electrical fence, so he stopped.

  He just stood there a moment longer watching the worker turn valves, cussing as he did so. He started to wonder how the water was being pumped and doubted the extreme nature of the emergency, thinking the power loss was actually sporadic and not an entire regional or national loss. This was the reason he didn’t get too close to the fence.

  The worker glanced up and saw him standing there. He too stopped dead and looked at Haliday. Again Haliday found himself telling another person not to worry. This time he got a response. “No offense partner, but you don’t look like you’re out hunting rabbit,” said the worker.

  Haliday said, “I guess you’re right, but anyway, my name is Roger and I was just curious as to why the pump station has power when the rest of the area is out.”

  The guy said, “We don’t have power.”

  Confused a bit, Haliday asked how the water was being pumped. He got a one word answer to that question. “Gravity.”

  Haliday said, “I don’t understand, how can that be? Could you put it in lay man’s terms for me? I’d appreciate it.” Haliday was always looking for this kind of information; you never know what you may need to do and how to do it.

  The guy working the valves said, “It’s simple. The river downtown is a lot lower than the land out here in the burbs. The pumping stations are daisy chained together to pump the water up the elevation. The pumps stopped, the back flow valves were electromechanical and they failed along with some of the safety valves.

  Therefore all of the water pumped into the burbs is now flowing back toward the main plant and coming out of the overflows into the retention ponds located nearby their substations.” The pond being past capacity was why the ditch was wet. The water had to go somewhere.

  When he thought about it, it really made sense. Haliday asked one more question, “How much water is flowing back and what’s going to happen at the plant?”

  The guy paused then said, “I don’t know, but the worst that could happen is that the main plant and downtown Detroit gets a few wet streets.”

  “No big loss,” Haliday said. “As a matter of fact that place could use a bath. Not quite the infamous motor city with sprawling plants and bustling workers and shops it used to be,” Haliday added.

  Haliday thanked the man for his time and started moving on again. He had a plan which required some very delicate adherence to time tables and he was about an hour behind. He had a goal to achieve and the quicker the better.

  He was only about a mile and a half away from home at this point, and this early on he just took the sidewalks and streets. Very few people would be a threat this early on, but he was still very aware of what was going on around him. He was closer to home and cutting through a parking lot by the local supermarket when he noticed they had the doors propped open.

  “Ahh, just a few steps out of my way,” he told himself and so he walked in. Eddie the store manager spotted him and told him they were closing up. Haliday nodded and told him “Ok,” then turned and walked out. Eddie shouted out, “Hey, are you going bear hunting or something, Roger?”

  Haliday said, “Good luck Eddie,” and continued walking out, not saying another word.

  On his way out he looked at the store front. Typical of a grocery store; it was all windows. He wondered how long these would last. Other than the single back set of double doors and the one roll up loading dock door, this was the only way in. Chances were when he got back this place would be stripped clean. He didn’t give it any thought; he had what he needed, but of course he always wanted more.

  Hell, he would have been happy to walk out with a few bags of rice and beans. That thought made him chuckle. Beans, beans and more beans, he thought. Oh boy, the butt trumpet was going to be playing a continuous melody shortly. Simple things amuse simple minds, but that was not really the case here. He was an average guy. Things like that were just plain funny.

  He thought about the market. That place would be an absolute nightmare. He didn’t buy into the whole 3-day food supply theory. He knew that once people realized it was their last chance, the place would be stripped in hours. Three days my ass, he thought. Not in this neighborhood.

  On the other side of the strip mall at the end was his favorite pizza place. There were a few folks inside here too. It looked like all kids in their late teens. He waved at the kids who were cleaning up and getting ready to close the store. One waved him over. He told him he was in a hurry, and the kid said, “We have a couple pizzas nobody picked up, you want one?” There was no hesitation. He agreed, even offered to pay for it; but they told him not to bother. He thanked them, took the box and started to walk out. They asked him if he knew what happened and he said, “No idea.”

  One kid said, “Well sir, based on your firearms, I’d say you have a very good idea.”

  He felt a little badly about his answer. He looked at the kids and asked them how far away they lived. A couple miles away was the furthest any of them lived. He told them to listen carefully. He advised them to forget about cleaning the store, forget about locking it up, and forget about anything other than getting home as soon as they could.

  That’s all he would tell them. Out of the three kids, two left immediately. The third who commented on his guns looked him square in the eyes and asked him just how bad it was. “It’s real bad, worse than you could ever imagine,” Haliday said. The kid grabbed the last three boxes of pizza and left in a hurry.

  Haliday opened the box and took a slice out and started to eat it. It was room temperature, but he didn’t care too much; it was going to be the last pizza he ate in a long time. He walked out and headed straight for the sidewalk. He saw the last kid dart down one of the nearby side streets. Haliday figured most of them were from the neighborhood.

  Haliday had almost reached the sidewalk when he looked across the street and saw the oil change shop. He made a mental note of it. Although sooner or later someone will take the drums and bottles of oil, they might overlook the waste oil tank. This could be filtered and used for a variety of purposes and even burned if necessary. He started back on his way home.

  As he continued to walk along the sidewalk, more and more people started looking at him. How funny this must be. This 6 foot 2 inch tall, 250 pound guy with a gun strapped to his waist, a rifle slung on his backpack and walking along eating a pizza like it was just another stroll in the neighborhood.

  Just 10 minutes later, he was almost home. It was a typical suburban neighborhood with half acre lots and the houses too close for comfort, but he did not have the resources to relocate like he wanted to thanks to the wonderful economic conditions. He had to make do with what he had and that was fine with him as long as his plans could hold.

  If he could maintain a good level of security, he should be fine. He paused long enough to tuck the pistol away along with his good old rifle, which was an Armalite AR180 with a folding stock, somewhat similar to an AR15. He took his pack off, folded the stock and slung the rifle on his back and then put the pack back on.

  He looked like just an average guy except for the backpack and of course the pizza box. He was not worried about his neighbors, who were out and about and talking to each other. He had maintained a great level of OPSEC, operational security, and seeing him with his backpack was a normal everyday event. He told them before it was his uniform and equipment from work and they never paid him any attention afte
r that. They didn’t this time either.

  He waved as he passed the folks. He said, “Hell of a power outage, huh?” He walked the last couple of hundred yards to his house. Approaching the door, there was an electronic cipher lock which he attempted to use out of habit. No luck of course; he dug into his pocket and fished out the key.

  As soon as he opened the door and stepped in, he breathed a sigh of relief. In one sense, it was good to be home, in another it was bothersome. Bothersome because he would have to temporarily leave for a few days or more and wasn’t sure what he would come home to in that amount of time. He walked around the house and made sure all of the windows and doors were locked.

  He peeked out into the attached garage at his baby and said, “I’ll be out there shortly.” “For goodness sake,” he said. “It’s a truck. Don’t talk to it. You have work to do and the quicker the better.” It was mid-October and the Michigan weather was so varied that even though today it was sunny and 70, tomorrow could be wet and 40. Fall was here and the impending winter would be harsh with all things considered.

  The first thing he did was go over to the fuse box and turn off the main power. No sense in any lights or anything coming on by accident. Next he reached down by the floor and flipped a single switch. This completed the circuit from a small array of deep charge batteries which ran a small series of 12v outlets throughout the house. Another switch actually turned them on, but until he pulled the bulbs out of their protective wrappers he didn’t bother to try it.

  He unwrapped the bag that he had bought from eBay and took out a bulb. It was supposed to be like a Faraday cage, but he thought it looked like a Mylar bag. Not even sure it would work, he screwed it into a lamp that was on the counter and went and hit the other switch. There was nothing, the light did not come on.