Breakdown: Season One

by Jordon Quattlebaum

  A nervous Thom Monroe nodded, “I copied all of the receipts and scanned them to you. You should have them all. Let me check our company drive. They should still be there. IT has a 180-day purge policy for our quarterly audits.”

  Rick just shook his head. “They’re not there, Thom. Trust me, I’ve looked.” He checked the time on his wrist.

  Thomas knew that look, and he had a fairly good idea exactly where at least some of the money went as he caught a flash of his boss’ new watch, but he knew better than to say anything yet.

  Catching Thom’s eye, Rick nodded toward him.

  “Let’s wrap this up, Thom. I’ve got a plane to catch. Haven’t had a vacation in quite some time.”

  “I’m going to need to contact my lawyer before we continue this conversation,” Thom said with an uncharacteristic amount of steel in his voice.

  Rick’s sigh was a bit over the top. “I was afraid you were going to say that. You’ve grown increasingly unreliable and belligerent since the passing of your wife a few months ago. There have been reports that you’re growing unstable and rude to our students. One of your co-workers, who will remain anonymous, even reported that you might be abusing certain illegal contraband.”

  Well, that explained the “random” drug test Thom had been given last week.

  “Thom, I’m afraid at this point I’m going to have to ask you to leave the building. You’ll find a box on your desk. Gather your things. You’re fired. The authorities will be contacting you soon to complete their investigation.”

  Rick must have assumed Thom’s red face was from fear, not anger, and he couldn’t help twisting the knife in his back just a little further.

  “Thom?”

  “Yes?” he asked hesitantly.

  “You can leave the picture of your wife and daughter at the beach from a couple of years ago. I particularly like the two-piece your daughter—”

  He never even had time to see Thom’s fist coming before he hit the ground. The two men who must have been waiting to escort Thomas back to his desk ran in just in time to see Rick’s unconscious body tumble backward out of his expensive office chair. The next ten minutes were a blur, but at one moment, Thom could swear he heard people cheering as he was escorted out to his car.

  Chapter 3 – Lecture Hall

  Anna hurried across campus to her next class in the engineering building, accidentally bumping into a man handling out ad sheets on the corner and sending a stack of yellow papers flying.

  “Sorry!” she exclaimed, picking up a fistful and handing them back to the obviously frustrated man.

  Rushing into the lecture hall, Anna quickly found a seat toward the front and just had time to get her notebook and pen out before the professor began his lecture. It was a low-level astronomy course, and for the last couple of days they had been discussing a few really interesting topics; sun spots, solar flares, and coronal mass ejections.

  Today, they were set to talk about something called the “Carrington Event,” in which a large solar storm, accompanied by a coronal mass ejection, fried most of the telegraph systems in Europe and North America. Apparently, the geomagnetic storm was so intense, some of the telegraph operators were still able to send and receive telegraphs while disconnected from their power source.

  Anna had managed to take the majority of her general education requirements in high school, which was great for financial reasons, but it did mean jumping straight into a pretty heavy course load her first semester, and she was having trouble balancing her time.

  Astronomy now, then a break for lunch. After that, a 100-level engineering course, then a one-hour self-defense class to round out her Phys. Ed. requirement.

  She hadn’t told her Dad about the part-time job she’d taken at one of the campus dining halls, and she hoped to keep that secret for a while longer, which meant she needed to bring her grades up in a hurry. She didn’t want her dad to worry but knew from experience that he wasn’t the most reliable person in her life. She loved him dearly and knew it wasn’t his fault, but she also knew she had to take care of herself as much as possible while he healed.

  She hoped that one day, he’d once again be the man who had raised her.

  For now, it was time to set those thoughts aside as best she could and focus on the lesson at hand.

  Worries could wait until she had more time.

  Chapter 4 - The Sky is Falling

  Praying the car would start as the two security goons stared at him through the car windows, Thom fished the key out of his pocket and inserted it into the ignition.

  He turned the key, and the car sluggishly came to life. Thom put it into reverse and backed out of his spot, offering curt nods to the fellows as they watched him leave the parking lot.

  Once he was safely out of view, Thom pulled into a nearby lot and had a bit of a breakdown. Deep down, he knew he’d be okay. His brother-in-law was a lawyer with experience in wrongful termination cases. He’d be all over this. Besides, there had to be backups of the data. Thom knew the physical copies had been shredded; he’d done it himself on his boss’ orders.

  “No sense in Compliance seeing these and laying into us for leaving financial documents lying around for anyone to see.”

  That smug bastard had played Thom for a fool. He’d figure a way out of this, though.

  Monroe’s hand throbbed, and he actually took comfort in the pain and smiled. He doubted Rick would press charges for that after what he’d said. He was skating on thin ice anyway and would want any extra attention diverted away from himself, especially after getting knocked out by a mild-mannered phone jockey.

  Thom was worried, though, and started to cry when he thought of the financial burden this would place on his family. There’d be a settlement eventually, if he won, so that’s something, but it would take months, perhaps years to get to that point. In the mean time, he was out of work, and they were already paycheck-to-paycheck after the passing of his wife. College tuition was taken care of through Anna’s scholarship, but room and board weren’t covered. She had a part-time job she didn’t think he knew about and could take out loans if necessary, but Thom had hoped to get her off on the right foot financially. The fact that she might start her adult life deeply in debt hurt him more than his injured hand, or his pride.

  Thom sniffed and scrubbed a hand across his eyes, wiping the tears away. He smiled. Things would be okay. They were a family. They’d find a way to get through this together.

  It wasn’t quite noon when he pulled the car onto the highway and started the long drive home in the slow lane, hazard lights flashing. He’d call and look for an auto body shop in the morning. Now that he didn’t have a job to drive to, there was really no reason to start the search tonight.

  The engine started knocking heavily, and the car lost power a few hundred yards after it passed the sign welcoming Thom back into Missouri. He’d had just enough time to pull over to the shoulder, as close to the concrete barrier as he could.

  Steam bellowed up from the hood, and Thom had to use a pair of leather gloves he kept in the glove box in order to keep from burning himself when he propped it open. He scratched his head and looked at the engine without a clue what to do next. He wasn’t a car guy. He could change the oil, check the tire pressure, and top off the fluids, but that was the extent of his automotive talent. So he closed the hood and grabbed his cell. Before he could dial, though, it rang in his hand. Thom checked the number and didn’t recognize it, but he answered anyway. If it was a telemarketer, he’d tell them about his day and vent a bit. Heck, he knew what it was like to be on the other end of that line.

  “Thomas Monroe. What can I do for you?”

  There was a slight delay, and then a static-filled voice answered.

  “Thom, this is Andrew Jackson.”

  Thom grinned. Andrew was
the Air Force student stationed over in Korea. They’d spent the last two years working together to get him through the program and had grown quite close. He was graduating in May and had invited Thom to visit him at his family farm south of Columbia. Thomas always got a kick out of his name, and Andrew knew it.

  “Mr. President, great to hear from you. If you’ve got questions about your tuition assistance, I’m afraid I can’t help you. I got the sack today.”

  “You what? Thom, I’m sorry to hear that, but I don’t have much time. There’s something going on here, and I’m scrambling. I’m not sure how much time we have, and not sure exactly what’s happening yet, but—” Static filled the line for a moment. “—need to get home as soon as you can. If you have time, get to the store—stock up on things like rice and beans and garden seeds. You’re going to want a firearm and some ammunition, a rifle or shotgun, a pistol for a sidearm. Make sure they’re chambered for common rounds, and stock up on as much ammo as they’ll let you carry out. If there’s more time, get the heck out of the city. Go get your daughter and head for the hills. If you’ve got family in the country, go there. Better yet, since my family is about a 30-minute drive south of Columbia, head there, Jackson Nurseries off of 63. You’ll see the signs. They’ll take you in. I’ve told them about the man who helped me get my degree.”

  “Andrew, what in the world are you talking about? You turning into one of those doomsday survivalist types?”

  “Thom, this is serious. I’m not sure if it’s the North Koreans, Iran, or some third party mercs, but something big is cooking. We’re being sent home. All of us. The entire base. I’m jeopardizing my career to help you. You need to—”

  The phone didn’t so much click as it just stopped working. Must have been a bad connection, Thom thought. He checked his screen, hoping to see the number so he could call Andrew back, but the phone had shut off, which was confusing, since he’d had nearly a full battery when the call started.

  Thomas pounded his fists on the car hood hard, over and over again, adding dent upon dent to the growing collection. He pounded his fists until he’d worn himself out, and then he collapsed facedown on the car.

  The first thing that clued him in that something was off was the thrumming sound the power lines started to make. Thom looked up just in time to see the first car hit another.

  The other cars on the road were all slamming into one another, the drivers wearing looks of panic on their faces. Thomas jumped over the concrete barrier just in time for his car to be slammed from behind by a pickup truck. Dazed, he lay next to the barrier, staring into the clear blue sky, and noticed a single engine Cessna fall from the air onto the road. It must have been headed toward the downtown airport on glide. It might have made it if the road had been clear.

  The explosion was close enough that he could feel the rush of super-heated air suck the wind from his lungs. Thom felt a sharp pain in his head briefly before the world abruptly faded to black.

  Chapter 5 – Just Desserts

  Rick settled in to the comfortable leather seats of first class and gave a self-satisfied smile. Checking his new watch, his grin widened. He hadn’t really needed to check the time again, but he couldn’t help but admire his new toy. One of many new toys. He admired the handiwork of his new Canadian passport and reminded himself that his name was now Linus.

  The fact that he was able to pin the entire ordeal on that nobody, Thom, just made the whole thing that much more enjoyable. It wasn’t personal, really. He just needed someone believable to take the blame. He didn’t feel all that bad. He’d given Thom a “bonus” a month earlier using funds from the corporate account, cooking the books a bit. If Thom were an honest man, he’d have noted the discretion and reported it. Rick had a plan for that eventuality as well, but at least Thom would go down with a clean conscience. Had he not even noticed the extra money in his account?

  When the authorities began investigating Thom, they’d find the ten thousand. They’d also find a good deal more than that missing from the deeper pockets of the corporate account, thinking that Thom had whisked some of the funds offshore. Meanwhile, Rick would disappear in Aruba, living off of the money he’d stolen and the money gained from the sale of private information over the years, which he’d squirreled away into a Swiss bank account.

  Flagging down a stewardess and ordering a stiff drink, Rick felt extremely satisfied indeed.

  The engines whirred to life, and the jet began to taxi to the runway.

  A few moments later, they were speeding down the runway. The nose of the plane lifted, and, for one glorious moment, they were airborne.

  That is to say, one moment they were airborne, and the next, they weren’t.

  The 747 touched down roughly, and luggage in the overhead bins shifted and spilled out, injuring and startling several of the passengers, who noted that the plane wasn’t accelerating. Neither was it slowing much.

  Looking out the window, Rick observed that they were quickly running out of runway and decided it would be a good time to finish his drink.

  It didn’t seem fair, he thought, that after all of his hard work, he should be ended by such a stupid thing as a plane crash, surrounded by annoying, screaming people.

  There was impact, and something struck Rick’s head. Hard. Then there was fire. For a brief moment, before the lights went out of his eyes, Rick wondered if, perhaps, he had descended into Hell.

  Chapter 6 - Powerless

  Thomas Monroe awoke to a world that looked like it had been plucked right out of Dante’s Inferno. He thought that he must have been out for a while because the sky was starting to get dark. There looked to be several fires in the city, with plumes of smoke drifting skyward. Cars now lay empty on the interstate, though he had a sneaking suspicion that a few cars and trucks had become tombs.

  The world was quieter than it should have been for Thom, a little gift from the explosion, but when he rose, he could still hear the moans of the injured coming from the cars around him. Reaching up to his ears, Thom felt a trickle of what appeared to be blood, now long dried.

  Climbing over the guardrail, he checked the side mirror of the car and confirmed his suspicion. He had a nasty gash on his forehead. No doubt left by a piece of flying debris from the explosion.

  Thom pried open the trunk of the car and grabbed the car repair kit, sorting through the medical supplies to see if there was anything he could do to get himself fixed up. Taking out some antiseptic gel, a bit of duct tape, and a pair of EMT shears, he fashioned a makeshift butterfly bandage that seemed to do the trick. The wound had pretty much closed on its own, thankfully, but there was no point in risking anything now. He’d get some proper medical treatment when the paramedics arrived.

  Rushing over to the nearest car, a small subcompact that was mostly under the trailer of a semi-truck, Thom could hear a passenger moaning quietly inside. Trying to open the door, he realized quickly there wasn’t any way short of the jaws of life he’d be able to get the trapped occupant out. Thomas gave the driver a closer look and realized that his injuries would be life-threatening in the best of times. Even had he been able to get him out, moving the man would probably kill him.

  “Hey, man, hang in there. What’s your name?”

  The driver didn’t turn his head, but he said, “Steven.”

  “Steven, my name’s Thom. We’re going to get you some help, okay? You hang in there.” Thom reached in through the broken glass of the window and held the man’s bloodied hand gently. “I’m here, buddy. Just hang in there.”

  “My chest hurts pretty bad, man. Every time I breathe.”

  Steven was sucking down great gulps of air very rapidly, trying to catch his breath without breathing too deeply. Looking down, Thom noticed the steering column had basically pinched him in half. It was a miracle he was still alive, but Thom knew he wouldn’t last much
longer. Thom’s heart broke, then softened when he realized his role wasn’t to be a healer in Steven’s life, but someone to comfort him as he passed from this world to the next.

  “I’m here. Just hold my hand and rest.”

  A few minutes passed, and Thom noticed the man’s hand start to cool. He let it go and headed to the next car. And the next. He realized pretty quickly that the survivors had been triaged long before he woke up. These were the walking dead. These cars would be their graves. And so as he passed, he did it with the somber respect of someone walking through a cemetery.

  Eventually, after losing the contents of his stomach a couple of times, he just stopped looking in the car windows. To do anything else hurt too badly. The images he’d already seen had provided more than enough nightmare fuel for many nights to come. And they reminded him too much of the night he’d lost his Sarah.

  Thomas looked around and wondered where the emergency crews were. They should have been there by now, surely.

  He groaned as he realized just how impotent he was at the moment. Band-Aids and antiseptic cream weren’t going to fix these people. Help would be on the way soon, anyway…wouldn’t it?

  That thought caused Thom to stop for a minute and examine the facts. It was dark, or close enough to being dark that there should be some light. The only light he could see, though, was from the fires sputtering around him.

  He should be hearing sirens, cars, planes, but the only sounds he could hear were the crickets, and even they weren’t saying much. The wounded had either been evacuated or else had left on foot while he was unconscious. The emergency crews couldn’t have gotten to them without clearing the wreckage, which, Thom could easily see, they hadn’t.