Leaving the hospital grounds, Naomi slowed down, bracing herself for a long jog. Both her husband Calvin and daughter Trinity were located across Schuylkill River, roughly two and a half miles away. It was part of the reason why Naomi took the Metro instead of hitching a ride with her husband.
As Naomi made her way across Broad Street again, a loud boom shook her to her core. She twisted back, seeing a flaming car jammed against a light post. Coughing and blackened by the blast, a handful of people staggered away from the recently exploded vehicle. Seeing a few pedestrians rush to their aid, Naomi kept on her path. Gasoline, oil, and other liquids seeped from different broken vehicles and slowly snaked their way toward the fire.
Streets over, groups of churchgoers offered assistance in the form of shelter and first aid while scattered police officers directed heavily-injured people to the nearest hospital and everyone else to their homes.
Complaining and shivering, office workers gathered outside of tall buildings.
Racing against the wind, Naomi lost her breath. Invisible splinters clogged her throat. She took a breather between two unfamiliar streets. After being dependent on GPS for so many years, remembering what streets led where proved to be challenging outside her daily routes. Resting her palms on her knees, she looked up to the sky, hoping to see an Air Force jet. There were only grey clouds. She wondered if the government had a contingency for this type of disaster. If so, how long would it take them to act?
Slowing her jog, she headed west and cut across the ever-busy Market Street. Not far ahead, she spotted a rack of public Rent-a-Bikes. Hope blossomed inside her. She reached the rack to find a four-digit code binding the bike chain. It was electrical and subsequently, inaccessible. Naomi glanced around, seeing that no one was remotely interested in her. She brushed her fingers over the various locks and lucked out. Someone had forgotten to lock one fully. Feelings of guilt pinged her as she parted the lock and mounted the rock-hard seat. She stood on the pedals and gained momentum. She promised herself that she’d return it on her way back.
The wind pressed Naomi as she biked. Her hair streamed behind her while her eyes watered. Groups of people swarmed supermarkets and formed long lines outside of gas stations. As much as she loved the city, she wished she were back on her parents’ farm. It was a beautiful piece of property with its own well, barn, and cattle. Best of all, it was quiet.
She zipped by the Mütter Museum, a medical museum with shelves of skulls and various organs on display, before cutting across the Schuylkill River. Boats drifted on the icy water. The mariners fiddled with the disabled control console and pushed off the bank with long poles.
Cold yet somehow sticky with sweat, Naomi rolled up to the University of Pennsylvania.
Large groups of students gathered in the courtyard. Their professors stood at the head of the classes, doing a head count and assigning roles. Naomi cut across the lawn, scanning the crowd. No sign of Calvin.
She dropped off the bike near one of the side entrances and tried opening the door. Locked. A card scanner was mounted on the closest wall. One of the professors, Roger Bates--a pudgy man with a spade-shaped beard--recognized Naomi.
“Dr. Baxter. I’m surprised to see you. Looking for Calvin?” he asked as he waddled over.
“Yeah, I wanted to get him home before things got too crazy,” Naomi said.
“You’re late to the party.” Bates looked out at the cityscape. “I can already see a few fires.”
Naomi gestured to the large crowd of students. “Planning another protest?”
“Something better. This useless, leeching generation will finally be giving back to society. They’re being voluntold to clean the city.”
“Voluntold,” Naomi repeated and shook her head. “Maybe they should be getting to safety.”
Bates smiled smugly. “Good can come of this whole calamity. Real change where everyone plays their part. Steered correctly, these boys and girls could be agents of that revolution.”
“Careful, Bates,” Naomi warned. “That’s someone’s baby you’re sending into the fray.”
“This is Philly, Naomi. Not the beaches of Normandy.” He absentmindedly swiped his card on the electronic reader. There was no response.
Naomi crossed her arms over her chest, looking wholly unimpressed.
Bates shrugged. “Had to try.” He pointed to another entrance. “You can get inside through the--”
“--Fishbowl. Got it.” Naomi finished for him. She’d spent enough years at the university to know her way around.
“Calvin’s probably in his office!” Bates shouted as Naomi headed that way.
She left her bike outside the building and entered the dark halls. It was not as crude as the subway tunnel, but it felt just as empty. Naomi reached the Electrical and Systems Engineering lab, still thinking on what Bates said. Sending large groups of college kids into the wild formed a pit in her stomach. She pushed open the door.
Rows of desktop computers, 3D printers, and countless electronic gizmos lined the room. Collections of robotics, wires, and electronic components were strewn across the various tabletops. It seemed the students were in the middle of a project when the grid went down.
In the front corner of the room, a skinny man hunched over a worktable littered with gutted machines and stripped electronic components. He wore a sweater vest with a bowtie and simple, stylish glasses fit for an eccentric college professor. His foot bounced anxiously under the table as he mumbled and fiddled with something Naomi couldn’t see. Suddenly, the mysterious object lit up, casting a yellow glow across his face.
Naomi put a hand on his shoulder. He twisted back as fast as a skittish cat. His eyes were wide with fear. The dim light of the lantern he held only added to the effect. “Naomi?” Calvin’s expression softened. “Thank God.”
He jerked from his seat and embraced her tightly, clinging to her like a raft on the open sea. She paused for a moment before hugging him back. It was the most intimate moment they’d shared in months.
“I was just on my way to get you, but I didn’t want to go unprepared.” Calvin said, pulling away from her. He held up the hand-cranked lantern proudly. “I managed to salvage this.”
It was still daylight outside. Naomi held her tongue. Calvin liked to over-prepare, especially in times of stress.
Calvin clicked off the lantern. “Did you see it?”
Naomi wrinkled her brow. “The lantern?”
Calvin scooted his glasses to the bridge of his nose. “The bomb.”
Naomi shook her head. She wondered if she should tell him about the subway accident. She had a bruise on her chin that Cal didn’t mention. Maybe he didn’t notice it.
Calvin approached the window. He pointed to the sky. “The blast was in the northwest. Judging by the size of the flash, probably four to five hundred kilometers up. It took out everything in an instant. No nuke would detonate that high. This was an EMP.”
“I know,” Naomi replied softly.
Calvin gestured back to his desk. “I’ve been double-checking the school’s components to see if anything had electronic magnetic shielding—take this lantern for example. Its metal body acted as a Faraday cage. The rest of the flashlights are toss-ups. I want to keep going through them, see if there’s anything else that works. EMPs are largely untested on most objects. We won’t really know what’s affected until we test them. There are the obvious dead ones, of course, phones, computers--”
“Calvin,” Naomi cut him off.
He closed his mouth, not happy to be interrupted.
Naomi locked eyes with him. “We need to find our daughter.”
“She’s at school,” Calvin replied.
“Then we need to get her,” Naomi said. “Before things get out of hand.”
Calvin processed the information and nodded soberly. He glanced around the room. “What about everything here?”
“Dead weight,” Naomi replied and picked up the lantern. “Except this.”
; Lips pursed and looking disappointed, Calvin slung on his heavy down coat and led her to the door. He turned back to the classroom before shutting it for a final time.
Side by side, they walked the quiet corridors. Calvin took a deep breath through his nose. “How are you doing?”
Naomi watched her feet, glad he finally asked her. “I don’t know yet, but I won’t use the word good.”
Calvin squeezed her hand briefly before bringing his own back into his pocket.
They walked in silence.
They used to complement each other like the sun complements the moon. Naomi knew people and loved the arts; she understood motives, fears, and loves, and could spot a liar from a mile away.
Calvin was the opposite. He was an academic like herself, but he focused on math, science, and critical thinking. Whereas Naomi put together broken lives, Cal repaired machines. Where Naomi could see scars of someone’s past etched on his or her face, Calvin saw the hidden math that made up the world.
In short, he was left-brained and Naomi was right. When they weren’t connecting, everything felt out of whack. You’re a national-renowned counselor and you can’t keep your own marriage lively, a tiny, internal voice mocked her.
Calvin headed to a closed door in the hall. “Over here.”
“Cal, please,” Naomi begged. “We should keep moving.”
“Come on,” Calvin insisted as he walked into the room.
The door sign read: Radio Club ext. since 1909.
Shoulders set and lips taut, Naomi followed her bullheaded husband into the radio room. She held up the lantern, illuminating different types of radio equipment. Calvin headed to the long wooden desk supporting something covered by a white sheet. He grabbed the corner and yanked it off, letting the sheet fall to the ground with a dramatic billow.
“This is a HAM Radio,” Cal lowered himself into the old leather office chair.
Naomi kept her weight on one foot and wore her anxiousness on her face. Calvin didn’t notice. He handed her a set of large headphones before putting on a set of his own. Naomi slid them over her ears. “This is a waste of time.”
“Ah ah ah,” he said, toggling a few switches. “Give me some space.”
Naomi set her jaw as her husband twisted a dial. A weak signal crackled in their earphones. “…Seven hundred and ten miles…”
Naomi felt chills. “What is that?”
Calvin shushed her. He twisted the dial, clearing up the signal.
Naomi pressed the headphones closer to her ears.
Calvin adjusted the signal.
A muffled voice talked through the radio. “And, DC?”
A second voice replied. “Completely out.”
The radio crackled. “How far does it go?”
“Still developing. Estimating the whole East Coast.”
Naomi felt her stomach drop.
The same voice continued. “That was just the first bomb.”
She put her hands on the edge of the desk, as if getting closer to the radio would clear up the signal.
“There were more?” the first voice crackled.
Static. “We don’t know.”
“How soon will we find out?”
“…We don’t know.”
The signal faded.
Scowling, Calvin tried to re-find it, but only heard a sequence of numbers and code words.
Naomi ran her hand up her scalp. “That can’t be right.”
Calvin turned his wide brown eyes to Naomi. “That’s a military broadcast. They wouldn’t lie about this stuff.”
“Military?” Naomi exclaimed. “Holy crap, Cal.”
“It’s fine,” Calvin reassured her. “I only listen to them every once in a while. I’m sure your brother does the same thing.”
Naomi didn’t contest that.
Having lollygagged enough, they left the building. College professors had nearly finished organizing the students into groups. A few said goodbye to Calvin. He reminded them to save their water. If the city wasn’t as liberal-minded, he might’ve said to save their bullets too. They headed to Calvin’s Ford Explorer. It didn’t work, of course.
Naomi thought about all the money that she’d just lost. She also thought about all the insurance companies that would have to clean up this mess. A more terrifying thought revealed itself: an EMP hitting the East Coast meant that the stock market was screwed, and if more than one bomb went off, America’s economy just died. No one would care about green paper with survival at stake.
Still, that didn’t stop Calvin from paying a student two hundred bucks for a bike.
Riding alongside each other, Naomi and Calvin cut across town.
As the morning waned, the wind kicked up and the sky grew darker.
Calvin looked up at the clouds as he pedaled. “Sixty percent chance of snow tonight.”
“I sure hope not,” Naomi said, eyeing the ominous sky.
They stayed on the sidewalks until they reached West Philadelphia Catholic High School.
They tried the front door. Locked.
Naomi and Calvin hammered their fists on the glass until a tall and skinny woman in a lady’s business suit cracked it open. She had a bird-like face, hooked nose, and hawk eyes to match.
“Principal Russo,” Naomi said with a kind but worried smile.
“Mr. and Mrs. Baxter,” the principal replied, scanning the road behind them. It was largely empty. “I’m sorry, but no one is allowed to enter or leave the school at this time. It’s standard protocol.”
“I understand the precaution, but I’m taking my daughter home, now,” Naomi said.
“Yes, well, I just told you--”
“Throw us a bone here,” Naomi said. “I won’t leave until I have her.”
Russo eyed them suspiciously. After a pause, she relented. “Wait here.”
She closed the door, locked it, and walked on. Naomi and Calvin traded a look.
“What kind of BS is that?” Calvin said. “School lockdown? When will it end? When the power comes back on? Everything is fried. Nothing is going to fix this.”
“They’ll learn soon enough,” Naomi agreed.
Five minutes inched by.
Nothing happened.
Ten minutes passed.
Calvin paced back and forth. He kept his hands in his heavy down coat.
After fifteen minutes, Russo returned.
“Trinity Baxter is not here.”
“What?” Naomi and Calvin said at the same time.
“We have no record of her signing in today, nor has anyone seen her.”
Calvin ran his hands down his cheeks in dismay.
Naomi’s heart rate quickened. “What about Becca Ryan? She’s a sophomore who drives Trinity to school.”
Russo agreed to check.
After ten suspenseful minutes, Russo returned. “We have no record of Becca Ryan showing up either. Is there anything else?”
Naomi furrowed her brows. “Can we talk to the other students?”
“I did,” Russo replied. “Neither one of the girls are in attendance.”
“Did they say where they might have gone?” Naomi pressed.
“They did not.” Russo eyed a small group of sketchy-looking people walking down the street. “I must return. Good luck with your search.” Russo shut the doors to keep the warm air inside.
Naomi and Calvin stood in silence, unsure what the hell to do next.
3
11:57 A.M
Naomi remembered holding Trinity for the first time. The infant was tiny, pink, and crying. Naomi had never seen anything more beautiful. The small fragile thing in her hands was worth more than her life. She would fight for it. She would kill for it. She would die for it, if the need arose.
She passed the swaddled newborn to Calvin. All color fled from his face, but, once he held the child, the fear left his eyes. He gave Naomi a weary smile. They weren’t just two lovers anymore. They were parents now. Storms, fights, and heartbreak might tear them apart, bu
t nothing could overcome the love they had for their daughter.
The wind rippled the American flag. It flapped and snapped, trying to tear itself from the high school’s flagpole.
Naomi’s breath misted in the air. Her smart watch didn’t work anymore, but she guessed it was around noontime. Somehow, the cold seemed to worsen with every hour.
Calvin paced. His hair was a mess from rubbing his hand up his scalp so many times. “It doesn’t make sense. If Becca took Route 676 to Chestnut, it should’ve only taken…” He mumbled as he calculated. “Six and a half miles. Count for morning traffic…” He completed the equation. “Twenty-two minutes. She left at 7, there’s no reason that, even with traffic, she wouldn’t have made it to the school on time. Even if they took Pine instead of the interstate, that only would’ve added five to ten minutes. She should’ve been at the school no later than 7:30. The blackout didn’t occur until 8:43.”
Fear, frustration, and anxiety jolted through Naomi’s body like a shot of adrenaline. “Maybe she got held up in traffic when…”
Calvin shook his head. “I drive pretty much the same route as her. No accidents. No roadblocks. Nothing that took an hour.”
“It’s a possibility, Cal,” Naomi suggested dreadfully.
Calvin pursed his lips for a moment. “How bad are the roads out there? Across the river, I mean.”
Naomi gave him a telling look.
Calvin ran his hand up his scalp again. “We should’ve never let her ride with Becca.”
Naomi sighed. Becca had been driving Trinity to school for almost a year now, and Calvin never complained. Naomi, on the other hand, knew that Becca, who was three years older than her daughter, was hiding a wild side to her since the day they’d met. She acted too perfect around adults, but the rumors from her peers told a completely different story. “Maybe they skipped class,” Naomi brainstormed.
“No,” Calvin shut the idea down. “Not Trinity. Not our girl.”
It was uncharacteristic of her. Trinity had received the perfect attendance award every year since the third grade. When she wasn’t involved in dance, drama, or piano lessons, she would be nose deep in a book or doing homework. Her studious and responsible nature were the reasons that she was able to skip the eighth grade altogether and start high school at the age of thirteen. Being absent went against her nature. Nevertheless, she was a teenage girl who had just started high school, meaning anything was a possibility.
Aftermath (Book 0): Aftermath Page 2