Alpha Farm: The Beginning (Prepper Chick Series Book 1)

by Annie Berdel

  Crossing back over to where the truck was located, he figured he might be able to get it started. Thinking it was a kill switch that was engaged, he popped open the hood. Looking around, he found no reason for the truck not starting, and after double checking the battery terminals, he tried to start it again. Nothing. No sound from the starter clicking or anything. Clicking on the radio, again he got nothing. “Hey, go check the headlights” he said to Angie. She looked as he turned them on “Nothing”. Glancing up and down the road again, he noticed again no vehicles. Looking down at his watch, the hands were still on 8 a.m.

  Scott got out of the truck and walked around to the back where his tool box was. Opening one side of the big silver box, he pulled out a smaller metal toolbox. Opening the box, he pulled out several items including a couple ham radios. Tossing one to Angie, he instructed her to get her backpack out from behind the seat.

  “What’s going on?” she asked. “Aren’t we just going to wait? I’m sure someone will be coming along soon.”

  “Here’s your list… tell me what you think. Nothing in the truck works. No radio, lights, starter or anything with any juice. My watch has said it’s been 8 a.m. for almost 2 hours now. Based on the location of the sun, it should be sometime after 10 a.m. There’s been absolutely no traffic on the road. We should have had at least two dozen cars pass us by now. And listen. I mean, really listen. Do you hear anything?”

  Angie stopped and did as Scott asked, her mind frantically trying to put all the pieces together. Turning, she looked down the roads in both directions. “Birds, that’s about it,” she replied, looking at him.

  “Don’t you find this all a bit odd?”

  “Scott, please. What is it?”

  “I think it’s an EMP. I’m not sure about the road, though. All the studies I have ever done never said anything about any kind of wave that went off and disrupted physical objects. It’s always been more an unseen pulse that fries the electronics.”

  “Oh, geez…looks like all my training is going to come in handy” she replied, her eyes wide open. “Let me get my bag,” and turning she walked to the cab.

  72

  Sheriff Olan tipped his back on his head. His deputies were still not all in his office and he had no way to get in touch with them. All phone lines were down and power was out all over the place. Cell phones, walkies, not even the ham unit had power. Nothing worked and he had no idea why. He needed to get over to the mayor’s office and get some answers but none of the vehicles were working which was especially puzzling. Walking outside, he stood on the front steps of his office and surveyed the scene. That’s when he noticed the plane. “What the hell” he muttered under his breath.

  Heading towards the small local airstrip, a two-seat Cessna was coming in lower than usual, its gleaming white wings tilting back and forth in the sun. “Pull up… “ the sheriff muttered under his breath. Olan shielded his eyes and watched as the plane continued on its trajectory. His eyes leaped ahead to where the hotel stood at the edge of the air strip. “PULL UP” he yelled, half expecting the plane to hear his command. “Ah shit” Ben yelled as he watched the plane slam into the side of the building and burst into flames, throwing debris high into the air. “No fire trucks, why are there no sirens?” Ben thought, and then reality hit. Turning quickly, he ran back into his office. Gathering additional firearms and a couple deputies who were there, he had his secretary lock up the building. “I’m going over to the municipal building if anyone needs me” he said as he headed out.

  73

  The crowd that was gathered in front of the building was growing larger by the minute. People were nervous and wanted answers. The power was out all over town. Vehicles weren’t running. Even the emergency generators were not working. Word was traveling fast through the small town that something drastic had happened.

  Brian stood with the mayor on the front steps. He unbuttoned the top button on his shirt trying to get more air. What he had to say was not going to be easy, and he needed to say it in a way as to not cause panic. Scraping a hand through his hair, he stepped forward and raised his hands, trying to quiet the crowd. Picking up the bull-horn, he placed it in front of his mouth.

  “Folks! Folks! Please quiet down,” he yelled as a faint murmur was heard traveling back through the crowd.

  “What’s going on?” he heard yelled from the back of the crowd, which did nothing but entice others to yell out also.

  “Please, we are trying to explain, but I’ll be damned if I am going to stand up here and try and yell over all of you!” Brian yelled into the megaphone.

  It was enough to get the crowd reasonably quiet again.

  “Here’s what we are piecing together, and no, we don’t have all the answers yet. It looks like a low altitude EMP was detonated somewhere over the lower 48. Most of the Midwest is without power or communications right now. We are trying to get comms up and running but we are going to need some time. We have some mechanics working on some older vehicles to be used for transportation but we need older models, like pre 1980s, something without damn computers in them. We also have an emergency team at the hospital trying to get their generators going but I honestly am not sure what kind of success they will have. Please. I am advising all of you to go to your homes and stay there while we work through this, but that’s all we currently have. The mayor will be speaking again about an hour before dark, so please feel free to come back then, but until then, just go home and stay there.

  “What about 911 if we need them?” someone yelled.

  “I really don’t know. Every electronic looks like it got fried,” Brian replied. “We are working on some things but please, check on your neighbors and just stay around your own homes and stay out of trouble. We have our hands full right now.”

  Brian noticed Sheriff Olan headed in his direction. Waving, he motioned for the sheriff to join him on the steps. Once Ben was with them, Brian mumbled to Ben and Ben then addressed the crowd.

  “I am imparting a curfew from sunup to sundown. You will need to stay in your homes until further notice during those times.” Murmurs were heard through the crowd. “Don’t you mean from sundown to sunup? Or are we allowed to run around like idiots at night?” Someone yelled from the crowd. Ben raised his hand, “It’s for your own safety. That’s our main priority, and ya… whatever. You want to go out at dark, knock yourself out, but I take no responsibility for your stupidity. There’s nothing you should be doing after dark anyways,” Ben explained. “Anyone that has a firearm, we might be able to use your assistance. Please meet me in front of my office in two hours as I will be looking at anyone interested in volunteering as a deputy and keeping our fine neighborhoods safe. I will be coordinating all of our efforts with the mayor and with…um… Brian here. Thank you,” he said and handed the mega-phone back to Brian.

  The three talked quietly for a moment ignoring the crowd. “We will be back here about an hour before dusk for another update. Go home and stay safe,” Brian finally said.

  The crowd mingled for a while and finally started to thin out, each going off in their own direction. Some town folks stood around and talked some more about the effects of an EMP and the length of time to recoup from the damage. Most agreed it was going to take longer than anyone truly realized.

  74

  Brian’s staff immediately went into action. All information on the long-term effects of an electromagnetic pulse was examined. The startling part was the lack of genuine information they did have. One thing they had learned from over the years was the impact of any kind of blackout. After Hurricane Katrina, a blackout was a major factor in the failure of police, emergency and rescue services during the hurricane, which killed almost 1,500 people.

  The blackout caused gas stations to cease operating, paralyzing transportation and greatly impeding evacuation efforts. The Katrina blackout, which afflicted the region for weeks and lasted for months in some localities, so severely impeded recovery efforts that even today, New Orleans an
d its vicinity is still far from being fully recovered. One thing they did figure out was the key to minimizing catastrophic impacts from loss of electrical power is rapid restoration. Until then, they all agreed, to keep everyone safe, they needed to order everyone to “Shelter in Place.”

  Brian had a huge whiteboard brought into the main meeting room. On it were listed multiple areas of concern. Some were related only to emergency personnel but the other list was the one Brian was most concerned with, the general public. Based upon data gathered from previous events, within three days, Brian could expect riots to begin. He had to have his team ready. Things were about to get very ugly, and he didn’t have the manpower to be able to control it. Martial law or not, there was only so much they could do. Grocery stores and drug stores would be hit hard and fast. Without supplies of medications, the sick would begin to die. He had to prioritize with hospital staff who would be receiving vital treatment.

  The elderly would be hit the hardest. Then the people who were physically disabled, those left behind by their loved ones. From there, the next would be anyone who was reliant upon medication or machinery to stay alive. Historically, trying to evacuate swiftly with the elderly or disabled is damn near impossible. With the grid down, a lot of these people were probably already dying. Burial services would need to be addressed so disease does not spread.

  Next, Brian needed to get his people prepared for the stereotypical welfare recipients, those people who expected others to save them. These people are the ones who will turn into the aggressors and they will take advantage of anyone. Heaven forbid if this same group of people is addicted to alcohol or drugs. One bullet will not stop them if they are strung out or desperate.

  From there we go to the people who are in denial and have done nothing to prepare. These people live in their world of love and peace and soccer games and have minimal skill sets. They make perfect targets as they choose not to carry firearms or anything to protect them. They will react too late; afraid to admit that their democratic leaders will not be there to save them. Heaven forbid they have children. How many would become orphans in the days ahead?

  History shows us that time and time again, during a down-grid situation, people die. Those who don’t die often times wished they had. The staggering amount of abuse and rape during situations like Hurricane Katrina or Fukushima should be enough to convince anyone to prepare for self-protection. But these things were not talked about. It was an embarrassment to the community. It was a pride issues. It was because it happened mostly to women and children that it was swept under the proverbial rug and truth silenced or even denied in some instances.

  Brian stopped and looked at his board, covered in notes and directions to herd people in the days ahead. Herding people was a funny task. Trying to help them, he would be blamed for trying to control them and taking away their God-given rights. And if he didn’t herd them, their blood would be on his hands.

  75

  Tom knew what had happened long before most in the city had figured it out, and he wanted to leave as soon as humanly possible, but he had some planning to do first. Having unpacked his bags, he was putting together a couple lightweight packs for himself and his grandson Jack. Weapons, water purification and clothing would be of utmost importance on this excursion.

  Most people would think food would be included, but with Tom’s ability to hunt and forage, it was the least of his worries. He needed to stay alive and keep his grandson alive, so firearms and self-protection were top on his list. Time was against them and he was fast losing precious minutes the longer they stayed there. Within days, panic would spread throughout the land and Tom wanted to make sure he was well on his way home and in the woods of West Virginia if at all possible.

  Dehydration was next on the list. Being able to carry the amount of water needed was impossible. One gallon of water minimum per person per day was needed to stay properly hydrated and not lose motor function. One gallon of water weighed eight pounds alone. Add the three weeks that it might take them to get home, and the need to know how to purify water along the route became apparent.

  Tom looked through the clothing they had brought along for the trip. Tossing aside the nice dress clothes, Tom pulled together the durable goods. Wool could get wet and still retain its warmth. Tactical pants to help carry supplies that could be evenly distributed on the body. Hiking shoes. While the dress shoes were nice and shiny and looked stylish, Tom had finished reading an article earlier of a man in DC from last winter who had walked home from work in the snow they had received. Three hours later and a hospital visit ensured the man had to have his toes removed due to frostbite. He threw in a hat, gloves, socks, more socks, a jacket and a good shemagh scarf and they were set.

  Tom laid out both firearms he had brought along on the trip, his Glock 19 and a folding rifle that accepted the same magazines as the Glock. Handing Jack the rifle, a Keltec Sub 2000, Tom walked him through a refresher course on the mechanics of the firearm in general. Tom’s plan was to use Jack as his backup since all he brought were the two firearms.

  Double-checking his blades and ferrocerium rods, he repacked all the other odds and ends back into the packs along with the medical supplies.

  Next he had his roadmaps spread out on the bed and was discussing with Jack several routes home. In case one path was blocked, they made sure they had multiple backup routes. Jack was scanning the topographical map when the knock came at the door.

  "Tomás Montalvo?,” which came out more as a statement than a question of identification.

  Odd that someone would know they were there, Tom did not relax his grip on the firearm when he addressed the person on the other side of the door.

  “Something you need?”

  “Commander Kessler,” he stated. “Senator Varga would like to have a word with you.” The man cleared his throat and continued, “In the bee garden.”

  “Jack, pack up your stuff quickly” Tom said as he began packing his own bag. “I’ll be right there,” he yelled out to the man behind the door.

  Opening the door, Tom saw a uniformed man standing in front of a military Humvee. “I should have known,” he muttered to himself as he was escorted into the back seat. Tom looked down at his grandson sitting on the metal platform between him and the commander. Jack was having the time of his life, as it’s not every day a kid gets to ride in a real Humvee and not one of the watered-down, yuppie versions cramming the streets in the civilian world. Tom grinned “Jack, you know what you are sitting on?” “No, Abuelo,” Jack replied. “That is a gunner’s platform. That’s where the guy stands that shoots the big guns. Look up there,” Tom said, pointing. “Up there’s the gunner’s hatch to the top of the truck. He sticks his head out of there to shoot whatever weapon is attached.” Jack tilted his head back and ate up all the information that his grandfather was giving him. “Cool!” Jack exclaimed. Tom only wished it was under better circumstances.

  The trip to Senator Varga’s country home was uneventful as most people were still sleeping when the EMP was detonated. Without all the extra vehicles and traffic controls, the driver made haste in leaving the city behind. Looking back one last time, Tom thought of the days ahead and how much death and destruction would surely follow. This city, once envied around the world for its power, was about to become a cesspool of death.

  76

  Pulling into the driveway, Tom was astounded at the flurry of activity going on. He and Jack were promptly escorted into what used to be the formal dining room. Stripped of the fine china and the water color paintings, the walls were now adorned with maps and the table was scattered with books and paper pads, full of notes. The commander pointed Tom to a chair and motioned for water to be brought to the table. Sitting silently, he took in the scene before him.

  The senator, who was so immaculately dressed earlier, was now in military fatigues. Her hair pinned up and all the useless baubles that women like to adorn themselves with were gone, replaced with just an analog watch. Sh
e was making the world spin from her seated position. Tom watched in amusement. She reminded him of his wife, always trying to save the world. A small grunt of a laugh escaped his mouth, which caught Nina’s attention.

  “Tom! Jack! When did you get here?” she exclaimed.

  “Not long. You look kinda busy,” he responded.

  “Yes, well. A lot has happened in the last 12 hours.”

  “I missed that memo,” he said. “But figured it out the hard way.”

  She smiled at him. “Let me introduce you to a couple people, and then we need to talk. I have a favor to ask of you.”

  “Tom, this is Commander Kissler as you have already met. He is my right hand. I’ve known Sean a long time. If you remember, he was recently allowed the benefit of change of employment from our illustrious Commander in Chief,” she stated, rolling her eyes adding air quotes for effect. The men nodded in acknowledgement.

  “This is Lt Commander Sam Benteg. Same story. Change of employment after serving our country for 27 years,” she said as she shook his hand. “Tom,” Sam said extending his hand. Tom reached out and the men exchanged a firm handshake.

  “Lt. Miles Cottner, Commander Scott Jeffries and Lt. Tim Eklund, all newly unemployed after serving our great country,” Nina added, pointing to the men around the room.

  Tom was a little confused. “Why would they all be…” he trailed off.

  “Relieved of duty?” Nina asked. “Well, the president doesn’t feel he needs their expertise to pull off what he has planned. He knows that these fine men would do everything in their power to stop him and his band of merry men. And they would. These men before you took an oath to this country, something our president has never done without his fingers crossed behind his back.”