Surge Together (Book 3 of the Sheffield Chronicles)

by Nate Castle

  “So does this mean that if one were to hack that system, they would have control of every single car?

  “Precisely. I was trying to tell that to the bozo that created the bill at the time, but he kept assuring me that the security would be so incredible, that it would be un-hackable.”

  “Are our government status cars on that same grid too?”

  “Not a clue, we should have someone run across the street to the motor pool and see if they are damaged. For the short term though, I know a place where we can get some cars. There’s a warehouse off of Mile Marker 33 a few miles south of here. This is one of many warehouses that was used to store all of the old cars that the people turned in. Any car made before the year 2023 won’t have that dumb electrical system in it.” General Kaplan said.

  “And you know of this warehouse because?”

  “Let’s just say me and some of the boys went there a handful of times over the years with some stogies and would drag race some of the nicer model cars. There’s a Shelby Cobra, a few Ferrari’s and even a classic Chevelle SS in that warehouse.”

  “I had a feeling your knowledge of that warehouse wasn’t work related!”

  Clyde decided it was time to take matters into his own hands. He had played a detective role one time in a short film when the main character didn’t show up for filming, and after that he often entertained the thought of what it would be like to be a detective in real life. He walked outside his apartment sporting a pair of brown sandals, grey boardshorts, and a Matthew McConaughey tank top that said “Alright Alright Alright” on it. Clyde couldn’t remember which movie that line was from, but liked the shirt anyway. He had frizzy blond hair stuck out the back of a mesh trucker hat that read Cabo ’26. He was the type of dude that pulled off the messy hair style look better than he would have pulled off the clean cut. At 6’2 he carried a few extra pounds in the form of a beer gut, but wore it well; he wouldn’t be classified as a fat guy.

  Clyde had two options after he exited his apartment, either walk down the flight of stairs to the sidewalk like a normal person or forget the staircase all together. Grabbing the railing at the top of the staircase, he flung himself in a 360 degree spin as he flew through the air and landed into an intentional somersault as he was hitting the ground. After he stood, up he performed his signature move: a quick wave with his right hand in every direction, as if he was waving at the crowd basically saying ‘thank you all for being here to watch my world class performance’. Clyde did this signature move quite often, maybe too often, but many that were close to him thought it was hilarious and never got old.

  He was now at the bike rack fiddling with the lock to get his beach cruiser unchained. Clyde did not own a car, mostly because he couldn’t deal with LA traffic. He rode his bike everywhere, and occasionally took the city bus.

  On this particular day, he had no destination in mind, he was just going to investigate and see if he could gather some evidence in the water shutoff probe. He hopped on his bike and headed north on the boardwalk, or what the locals like to call ‘The Strand’.

  Up to this point, Clyde had no clue that the cars had been disabled, but that became apparent as he continued to ride and saw cars parked in unusual positions and or left in the middle of the road following what looked like a crash. He wondered if the whole car deal was in any way related to the water being shut off.

  To his right, he saw a man coming down an apartment building staircase. The man was carrying a one strap shoulder bag and had what looked like flyers in his hand. Clyde let the man pass and made sure to note which direction he had gone. He then went up stairs that the man had come down from and confirmed his hunch; the flyers the guy had been passing out, were the notices from the water shut-off scam artists. Clyde knew he was going to have to follow this guy to gather more intel.

  Keeping a liberal following distance, Clyde stopped his bike finally after the man stopped and entered a Northrop Grumman aircraft design warehouse in Manhattan Beach. Wanting to get a sense of how big an organization he was dealing with, Clyde waited for the next forty-five minutes, making a note of how many people came in and went from the building. He logged a total of twelve.

  Okay I’ve fought off larger groups than this before. No Sweat.

  He pedaled fast on the way back to his complex, the Wave Runner Apartments, so that he could start formulating ideas. He decided to devote one whole wall to this ‘case’. Over the next few hours he diagrammed his thoughts. He made a Venn diagram which was two overlapping circles, where informational items were put in each circle, and the area where the two circles overlapped was reserved for items that from both the left and right circle that had commonalities. He also made a map of the area (not too many places were labeled on the map yet, since he had only seen the delivery man at two places). He used push pins and yarn to connect the route that the delivery man took. It was a thing of beauty and you wouldn't expect by looking at Clyde that he was so meticulous.

  3

  Win The Day

  “We’re never going to make it back to DC at this rate,” Noel said, “Has it crossed any of your minds to go to the Florida Keys anyway? Like forget going back to DC and just start our lives there isolated from whatever screwed up plan the aliens have going on this time?”

  They had been walking for the past two hours, no one saying a word until now, but observing their surroundings and looking for an easier way to get them to DC.

  “How could we enjoy that life, constantly having to look over our shoulder, wondering when that day would come when the aliens would find us?” Hank said. “As long as there are still aliens on Earth, I’m 100% committed to fighting them, even if that means doing so for the rest of my life.”

  “He’s right. We have no choice, we have to go back and help the others. Don’t forget, we have a unique skillset that not many people have,” Logan said, “Changing the subject now, it looks like there is a harbor a half mile east. That’s the most logical place for us to go, does anyone oppose?”

  He was looking at a printed map of the area. No one opposed his idea, maybe because he usually had rock solid plans.

  They reached the harbor without incident. It was in a town called Emerald Isle, North Carolina. From here, Logan estimated it would take eight hours to reach DC if there were no hiccups. Boat slips lined the dock on both sides, and this marina must have been a popular spot because it was at full capacity.

  “We need something big, but not too high tech to the point where Hank or I can’t figure out how to drive it,” Logan said.

  Shelby found what fit the criteria. It was a 32 foot yacht but seemed to be the least fancy looking out of all the available options.

  “Bullseye,” she said.

  They walked over to it. Shelby and Noel chatted for a minute while Logan and Hank boarded the boat to inspect the captain’s controls.

  “This looks like a great boat and all, except for the name,” Noel said.

  The boat had the name ‘The Unsinkable 2’ written in gold flake cursive lettering across the front.

  “You’re wondering the same thing as I am. What happened to the original ‘Unsinkable’?”said Shelby. “It must have capsized in order for the ‘Unsinkable 2’ to have been born.”

  “Don’t mention it to the boys, they have enough on their plates to worry about. Not to mention, it has to be more difficult to captain a boat on the Atlantic in the winter than it does in the summer,” Noel said.

  “Agreed,” Shelby said.

  Hank and Logan returned with smiles on, this being the first time anyone had smiled since Garrett’s passing.

  Logan threw two life jackets down from the boat, at Shelby and Noel, and then said, “C’mon let’s motor!”

  “Anyone heard from Logan’s crew?” President Taylor said, “They should have made it to the Keys by now. And I specifically told Logan that he needed to give a heads up when they arrived.”

  President Taylor was in a room with seven others, planning to dis
cuss the car situation.

  “No, but wouldn’t their car have been disabled?” Christina said.

  She had been a huge asset in the past for her engineering skill set, and as a result had earned her stripes and ability to sit in on all big decisions.

  “That’s what we’re unsure of. My source thinks that our government issued vehicles would have been immune to that attack, because they are set up on a different server, but he is following up on that,” General Kaplan said.

  “With no way to contact them, let’s hope they contact us. If they don’t within two days, I say we send a search party out to locate them,” President Taylor said.

  “And in the meantime, what’s on the agenda?” Sierra said.

  She had met President Taylor after the first alien attack and they had fallen in love. They were scheduled to have a baby soon.

  “Video compilations. We need to snag as much video footage as possible from the day of the car attack and see if that leads us to any new conclusions,“ President Taylor said, “Also can someone do a head count to see how many residents we have on the property?”

  Before the last Zyrgian incident, a few thousand citizens called the White House home. There were tents and bunk beds set up specifically as a refuge, but after the previous battle, it seemed safe again, so most decided to leave the White House and head elsewhere in the country.

  “For not having any boating experience, you sure are fooling us,” Noel said.

  Noel headed into the cabin with Shelby to attempt to get some sleep.

  Logan was captaining the yacht with Hank as the first mate. The route wasn't as smooth as one would hope, it was quite choppy actually, but Logan was navigating the yacht well.

  “Now might be a good time for us to contact the President. This yacht should be equipped with a satellite phone,” Hank said.

  “On my right,” Logan pointed.

  Hank picked up the unit and dialed the Coast Guard. He knew no one would pick up, but the White House had previously set up a system that intercepted all 9-1-1 and emergency calls.

  After a minute of static, someone answered from the other end. Hank spoke into the radio,

  ‘Yeah can I speak to President Taylor please? Tell him it’s Hank and it’s urgent.”

  Hank waited for a good nine minutes before President Taylor picked up on the other end.

  ‘This is Hank, we are en route back to you guys, currently traveling by boat. We lost Garrett I’m afraid to say. After our car got disabled, he went to check out the engine block and it blew up on him.’

  ‘That’s heartbreaking. I wish you guys safe travels back here. I feel helpless at the moment, not being able to send a vehicle or aircraft to come pick you up. I must admit though, it’s selfish of me, but I’m glad you are coming back. We feel a lot safer with you guys around,” President Taylor replied.

  ‘We’ll be there. Not sure how long it will take, but definitely will find a way,” Hank said before placing the radio back on its holder and ending the call.

  They continued on in silence until Noel returned from the cabin and said, “Shelby is sick guys.”

  “Hank you take over the controls for a minute I’m gonna go check on her,” Logan said and walked down to the cabin.

  When he returned five minutes later, Hank already knew what he was going to say based on his expression.

  “We should turn ‘er into shore. She’s yacking pretty bad. We’ll figure out an alternate transportation method once we get back on land,” Logan said.

  “Roger. It looks like there’s a spot we can pull in right here,” Hank said and pointed to a dot on the GPS map.

  He made a gradual left turn to veer back towards a patch of land. Off in the distance maybe 500 yards, they noticed something out of the ordinary. It was a red light illuminating off the water. The light covered about a 30 yard radius and was funnel shaped; it got wider the closer you looked to the water and narrower the closer you looked up.

  “What in God’s name,” Hank said.

  He tugged back on the throttle to slow the boat down. They were headed right towards this mysterious light. Now 300 yards away, they could begin to develop a better picture. The area where the red light was coming from looked like a sinkhole, with no water for a few feet. The hole was occupied by a massive oval shaped craft. It didn’t look like anything from Earth.

  “Would you agree with me that it’s an alien craft?” Hank said.

  “Yes, there’s no doubt,” Logan said, “But, I’ve never seen a Zyrgian craft that big before. Is it possible it’s a different kind of alien?”

  “Gosh, wouldn’t that be a doozy,” Hank said, “You know the craziest part abut all of this?”

  “That these aliens keep coming back no matter what we hit ‘em with?”

  “Well, that’s one crazy thing. But what I was thinking of was the fact that we are having a normal calm and collected conversation right now about an alien craft in front of us. It doesn’t phase us anymore because we’ve seen these suckers so many times already,” Hank said.

  “Yeah the initial fear I used to get is no longer there. I have more important things to worry about, like how we’re going to defend ourselves if aliens come out of that craft when we drive past it.”

  “Just for that reason, I’m going to make a loop so that we avoid the craft by a few hundred yards.”

  Hank made a sharp right turn to head into deeper water and put some distance between them and the alien craft, before making a hard left again. They could see the shoreline now, maybe a quarter mile in. Hank slowed the boat down like a responsible captain would when entering a harbor and spotted an open dock to the left.

  “Get the ropes ready,” he said to Logan.

  Logan gave him an arm straight up with closed fist signal from down on the deck, and Hank assumed that meant he was ready. Logan hopped on the railing of the boat and when it was close enough, jumped onto the dock with the ropes in hand. He tied the ropes around a pole with very little thought. He looked like a skipper who knew his way around a dock.

  “Welcome to Ocracoke, North Carolina,” Hank said.

  By this point Noel had assisted Shelby out of the bathroom and was helping her walk off of the boat with one arm around her shoulder. Hank shut off both engines and removed the key from the ignition, placing it in his pocket.

  “You keeping the key for a memento?” Logan said.

  “Good guess. I’m actually hoping that some day this mess will be over and people will go back to living normal lives. When that happens I’m going to head back here and live on this boat, maybe even cruise it around the world.”

  “Eye on the prize, I like it,” Logan said.

  The four walked off the dock. Logan relieved Noel of her duties and picked up Shelby into a fireman’s lift and began carrying her. Shelby was pale in the face but was no longer throwing up, which was good, or was it bad?

  They walked for a few blocks and then stopped on a bus stop bench to regroup.

  “Alright what’s our next move here? We’re back to square one,” Noel said.

  “I was thinking we should find a drug store to find some medicine for Shelby. But then again, no motion sickness medicine will help at this point. The only thing that might help is a sleeping pill so she can rid herself of the sickness,” Logan said.

  “It’s worth a shot, maybe we will find a medicine that we haven’t thought of,”Hank said.

  They started walking again, Shelby this time refusing to let Logan carry her. Logan noticed a sign on the road that showed a directional arrow and read ‘Amtrak’.

  This could be a game changer, he thought.

  4

  Piece Of Mind

  Clyde couldn’t sleep, he was too jacked up about what he was going to do the next day. He laid there until about 7am until at which point he put on his wetsuit, grabbed his longboard and headed down to the beach. A good surfing session always seemed to clear his head, and prep himself for the high level of thinking that he wou
ld have to utilize that day if he wanted to stay alive. Many ideas were racing through his head, but eventually he just said ‘screw it, I’m going with my gut’.

  He left his apartment on the beach cruiser and rode to all the way to Torrance where there was a Vista Power Company substation. Praying that his Youtube education the night before on the subject matter would be enough, he swapped the bike for a Vista utility truck (it wasn't hard to locate the keys) and drove towards Manhattan Beach. The truck had a box with a mini lift so that a lineman could be raised up to do work on the power poles. He had located a map of the power grid in the Vista office and used that to determine which pole he needed to go to. The pole he chose was about a block east of the Northrop Grumman building; he sure as hell hoped that no one from the organization saw him.

  Clyde put the truck in park, but left the engine running and hopped out. He grabbed a tool belt from the bed of the truck and turned on a switch to operate the bucket. Luckily, there were also controls inside the bucket so he could operate it without any assistance. When he got to the top of the pole, he realized that he needed to start over. On the Youtube video he remembered seeing the guy extend two metal arms from the side of the truck to the ground.These arms acted as anchors so when the lift was fully extended, the weight distribution change wouldn’t flip the truck.

  After making the necessary adjustment he was back in business. The video also said that there were different types of control panels, if you will, once you got to the top of the pole. A lot of cities had installed more modern ones, which were easier to operate. This particular white box appeared to be the modern one. Clyde flipped it open, and located a few switches that he would need for future use.

  From the tool belt he located a special pair of pliers and used them to take a coupling piece off of the main telephone wire. He then used the pliers to pull free the smaller wire that fed into the main line and reuse the coupling to attach it back on itself. He flicked the switches in the white box which shut off the power for the whole neighborhood. It didn't make much sense to him, but he figured if he needed to turn back on the neighborhood power again quickly (besides the Northrop Grumman building), flicking a switch would be easier than reconnecting a line.