Powerless (EMP Survival Book 1)

by Emily Garnet

  Powerless

  EMP Survival #1

  Emily Garnet

  Powerless (EMP Survival #1)

  © 2019 Emily Garnet

  The author reserves all rights to this work. Resemblances to people, places, or events are coincidental.

  Editing By VanRich and K.T.

  Cover images by DepositPhoto

  Cover design by Emily Garnet

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Blurb

  Ivy Gerard, mega popstar, is on stage when the lights go out. She and her best friend, Matt, soon discover it’s not just the lights that are gone. Vehicles no longer work, and fires are raging along Las Vegas Boulevard. At first, she wants to refuse to believe, but she knows what this is. Thanks to her unconventional childhood with an overbearing, prepper father, she recognizes the effects of a high-altitude nuclear detonation that creates a massive EMP.

  She’s on a race against time and the inevitable crumbling of society as she and Matt form a plan to leave Las Vegas, so they can reach her sister and his family. The panic is just beginning, but Ivy knows it will get worse. Desperate people do desperate things, and they need to leave the city while they still can.

  That proves more difficult than she ever anticipated…

  Powerless is the first in a three-part survival series about the aftermath of a HEMP. Parts two and three will be available soon.

  Chapter One

  The midpoint was the favorite part of Ivy Gerard’s performance. She was in the groove by then, and the audience had started to mellow enough to really listen rather than just scream and shout their excitement at being at a Tattered Souls concert. She had a natural pattern to her songs that she and her bandmates had carefully selected.

  They started the show with a high-intensity song to really fire up people, and then they slowly eased down the pace. At the midpoint, she had three slow songs in a row to sing, before pivoting to the faster songs and ending with their loudest, fastest, and most intense song. When they were called back for an encore, which they inevitably were, they always sang one more slow number.

  They sometimes alternated the songs they were singing, but the pattern always remained the same. It was important to her that everyone who paid the exorbitant prices to see their performances got their money’s worth and then some. Ivy hadn’t forgotten that without the fans, she’d still be singing commercial jingles, waiting tables, and doing a part-time DJ gig back in Salt Lake City. She never wanted to go back to being that Ivy again.

  She had her eyes closed as she sang, so it took her a moment to realize the energy of the audience had changed. She opened her eyes and discovered the lights were off. There was a murmur of unease among the crowd, and she wondered how long she’d been singing acoustically. When she was in the groove, it was difficult to focus on anything but the music.

  “Looks like someone forgot to pay the power bill,” she said in a joking fashion. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the crowd, since she no longer had the amplification from the microphone. At least a few people in the front row heard her joke, because she saw them laugh and start to relax.

  “What should we do?” asked Matt from behind her.

  She turned briefly to look at her drummer and best friend. “I guess we keep singing and playing?”

  “No can do,” said Desmond, the guitarist. “We’re all plugged into the amplifiers. The only thing you can do is sing without accompaniment.”

  She grimaced, not liking the idea of losing the musical support. She was confident in her voice, but with all the gadgets and electronics they used to harmonize her, she hoped people would still recognize her voice as her own when it came from her instead of filtered through an autotuner.

  After a couple of moments of silence, besides people stirring restlessly, she finally opened her mouth and started singing again. It had the desired effect, as people in the Colosseum started to quiet down, so they could hear her without the assistance of technology.

  She could feel them falling back into her grasp, entranced by her song. It was the most incredible feeling in the world, and Ivy never tired of it. She didn’t take for granted her success or assume it would always be that way. She knew it could disappear in an instant if she didn’t maintain a connection with her fans.

  She’d just finished the current song and started to ease into another slow piece when one of the set of doors to the right entry burst open, and a few people streamed in. Ivy waited for security to chase them, but there was no sign of anyone trying to stop them.

  “We have to get out of here. Everything is on fire.”

  Ivy started to dismiss it as a prank, but then she smelled the smoke in the air. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one. People started screaming and shouting as they pushed their way out of their seats, all vying for the exits. It was going to be a slaughterhouse if people fell, because she could see the panic enough to know they wouldn’t stop. They would just keep going and crush people in their terror.

  “Calm down, please. Everyone needs to make an orderly exit.” She tried her best to get their attention, but without the power of the microphone, she couldn’t cut through their panic enough to reason with them.

  Seconds later, Javier had a hand on her arm. He was her lead security guard, and he was gesturing for her to leave. With one last look of regret at the crowd, since she couldn’t do anything to help control them, she abandoned the microphone that no longer worked and followed her security guard, aware of Matt right beside her. Desmond, Julian, and Amy had been taken the other direction by the other half of the security team. As she glanced over her shoulder, she had the oddest thought that she would never see any of the three again.

  Tristan and Susie stood offstage, clearly waiting for her, Matt, and Javier. Three guards stood with them, but she couldn’t remember their names as fear started to overtake her. Unlike Javier, they were all new to her detail, having joined in San Francisco and Los Angeles before they made their way to Vegas, so she didn’t feel too bad about not remembering their names.

  “We have to get out of here,” said Tristan. His thick Cockney accent occasionally made him hard to understand, and it was worse since he was in a panic.

  Ivy took a deep breath and put a hand on his shoulder. “Just calm down. Panicking isn’t going to help anyone.” She could hear her father say practically the same words, and she shuddered at the memory. “What’s the route we’re going?”

  “Out the side entrance, and we’re going to try to find one of the less-used exits. We’ll probably have to go across the casino floor, so I want everyone to stick close,” said Javier.

  She nodded, falling in step with everyone as the security agents offered a slight buffer zone between them and the rest. Leaving the Colosseum via the back entrance wasn’t too difficult, but there was a crush of people in the hallway, despite this being a lesser-used exit normally reserved for VIPs and casino staff.

  In the madness, people jostled into them, and others seemed determined to clear a path through any means necessary. She whimpered in dismay when a large man in front of her and off to the side punched a woman who was smaller than Ivy to get her out of his way so he could reach the exit faster.

  Ivy bent down to help her
up, but she knew it was a risky venture. Matt was right there beside her, and they lifted the young woman to her feet. She was clearly dazed from the punch, but she hadn’t been knocked out. “Stick with us, okay?”

  She nodded as her nose gushed with blood. Ivy ripped the scarf off her neck and passed it to the young woman, trying not to think about the Swarovski crystals that would be unsalvageable. She loved that thing, but someone else needed it more.

  It didn’t take long to realize they’d been separated from their security people, and she tried to pause to look for them, but the crowd wouldn’t allow it. They were shuffling them the wrong way, heading away from the nearest exit in alarm. She wanted to shout at people to turn around, but there was no point. All they could do was move with the flow of the crowd and try to find another exit once they left the bottleneck of this long corridor.

  A few tense moments later, they were out of the smaller confines of the hallway and into part of the casino. She jerked when someone called her name, turning her head in time to see Tristan and Susie waving them over. They were wedged near a set of potted plants, using that as an anchor to avoid being swept into the crowd.

  She and Matt moved closer to their friends, the woman still between them.

  “Let go of my wife,” shouted a man as he ran toward them. He had his fist raised, and he was clearly combative.

  Ivy didn’t take time to explain. She simply let go of the girl as Matt did the same. Fortunately, the woman collapsed into her husband’s arms, and they slipped away before he could turn on them.

  “No good deed goes unpunished,” said Matt with a shake of his head.

  She shrugged. “She’s bleeding, and we’re dragging her with us. It was probably a logical assumption on his part that we were the ones who hurt her and were maybe trying to take her in the chaos.”

  Matt blinked at her. “And who are you?”

  Ivy tipped her head slightly to look at him as they reached Susie and Tristan. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re so unflappable and pragmatic here. Why aren’t you freaking out like everybody else?”

  She didn’t want to delve into the details of her childhood, even with her best friend. She just shook her head. “There’s no point in panicking unless we have to, right? We’ll get out of this better if we maintain cool heads.”

  Matt snorted. “Cool heads? Is this coming from the same person who had a screaming match with Amy last week in San Francisco?”

  Ivy winced, struggling not to feel defensive. “That was different. That was about creative differences in our art. Singing and music requires passion. Survival requires logic.” She almost vomited as she regurgitated words her father had said to her on multiple occasions, mainly when she’d been resisting his efforts to train her, instead wanting to focus on her music.

  Matt looked stunned, but he didn’t comment further. Instead, the four of them huddled together, trying to determine the mess between them and the door. There were a few dim lights that must’ve come on as part of the generator system, but it was just enough to illuminate the madhouse in front of them.

  While some people were focused on escaping the casino, just as many seemed to be determined to scoop up winnings off the table, pocketing chips as fast as they could. There were an equal number of security guards engaged in trying to prevent that, which was leading to a violent clash between the gamblers and the security people.

  “What if we stay low and go that way?” She pointed around the stand of slot machines, where there weren’t as many people, probably because it was a bit of a maze to get to the exit. “We could probably crouch down, maybe even crawl our way through that, and then we’d just have a hundred feet or so to battle through the biggest part of the crowd to get outside.”

  When she heard no objections, Ivy looked around. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t want to die,” said Susie. “Just get us to safety.” She sounded weak, bordering on pathetic. She’d never have what it took to survive.

  Ivy shook her head, trying to clear that uncharitable thought. She could hear it echoing in Henry’s tone. She hadn’t spent much time thinking about her father in the last ten years, and she hadn’t spoken to him in at least six, but tonight she could hear every thought he’d ever shared in her head, and in his voice. It was disconcerting, and she had to banish it if she was going to focus on getting out of Caesar’s Palace without getting trampled.

  She moved forward first, deciding to take the lead. None of the other three were going to. She couldn’t blame them, since none of them had been drilled in survival, and none of the four of them had ever been in a situation like this. Tristan, who was usually forceful and commanding as their manager, seemed to have lost his voice almost entirely. Susie was just a trembling mess, and Matt had never been much of a leader. He was always more of a follower, which usually wasn’t a problem.

  She started in a crouch, moving as far she could that way before deciding it might be faster just to crawl. With the chaos going on above their heads as people shook the machines, presumably trying to get them to spill coins though they printed tickets, and others engaged in fighting, it might be the safer way anyway.

  It seemed to take forever, though it couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes, before they navigated the maze of slot machines and made their way closer to the exit. She paused at the perimeter of the machines, eyeing their best exit. They needed to regroup, so she got to her feet, but continued to kneel as she turned to face them. “Stay low, and let’s make a run for that roulette table. We can crouch under there for a minute and observe everyone to see what our next best move is.”

  In a crowd like this, the situation could change in seconds, and what had been a smart exit strategy the second before could turn bad in an instant. After seeing them all nod, she got up and crouched down again, running as fast as she could in that position to reach the table. The others followed her, and they huddled underneath it for a moment. Above the din of the crowd, she could hear a security guard fighting with someone right beside them, and the table shuddered as something slammed into it. “Let’s get out of here before we get crushed.”

  “How?” asked Tristan. His dark gaze darted around the room as he scratched his graying beard. “We’re going to get smashed out there.”

  “We can’t stay here. We’re safer outside, especially if the casino really is on fire.” Matt spoke those words firmly, imbuing them with determination.

  Ivy flashed smile at him, proud of how well he was handling this. She’d never seen Matt break down in panic, but they’d never faced anything like this before. She nodded her approval and eyed the floor ahead of them again. “I don’t think crouching is going to do us any good this time. Everyone else is on their feet and running. The best we can do is try to stick together, blend with the crowd, and move at the pace it sets. Don’t let anybody knock you down.” Easier said than done, of course.

  “I don’t think I can do this.” Susie shivered. “I’ll just stay here, and you can send back help.”

  Ivy managed to hold on to her patience, understanding her assistant was giving into fear. “Who knows when that will come? If the casino is on fire, it could take a couple of hours to evacuate everyone while they put out the fire, depending on how bad it is. You need to get out now, while you can.” Her frustration bled through her tone a little bit when Susie shook her head. “You’re literally less than a hundred feet from the outside. Get your shit together and get moving.” God, she sounded so much like Henry that it was horrible to contemplate.

  At least it worked. Her tone and words must’ve snapped Susie out of her fear enough to comply, because she nodded and started to crawl out from under the table as Matt did the same. Ivy went next, and Tristan brought up the back. She’d gone a few steps when she heard a sickening cry and a crunch. Thud. Ivy spun around in time to see a security guard knocking Tristan’s head into the table. Her manager sank to the floor like a stone.

  She strode forward,
hands on her hips. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Get back.” He lifted a baton. “You’re not stealing anything else.”

  She glared at him. “I’m not stealing anything. We’re trying to get out of this place. You just hit my manager. He hasn’t done a thing to you, and he wasn’t threatening you in any way.”

  “Ivy, what’s happening?” asked Matt from behind her. His voice grew closer as he drew closer.

  “This savage just attacked Tristan for no reason.”

  The security guy was at least twice her size, but he seemed uncertain now. “He was skulking around under the table, clearly trying to pick up chips.”

  She glared at him, “No, he was trying to get out of here, just like the rest of us. We stopped there for a minute to regroup.”

  She stepped closer, staring him down, and his expression changed. He suddenly looked like he was in real trouble, and she knew the exact instant he recognized her by the way he moaned and swiped at his face.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you guys. I didn’t know who he was.” He looked down at Tristan. “Who is he?”

  “My manager,” she said briskly. “You’re going to help us get him out of here.”

  He nodded, suddenly sweating. “Follow me.”

  “Wait a minute.”

  He froze at her harsh tone.

  “Pick up Tristan and put him over your shoulder. The least you can do is carry him.” She figured the guy was big enough to do that and still move at a brisk enough pace to get them to safety.

  He did as she’d ordered, picking up Tristan and putting him over his shoulder before turning away from the main casino floor. Since he worked there, Ivy assumed he knew a better way out, so she followed him. Matt fell into line beside her, tugging at her elbow. She slanted him a glance from the corner of her eye but didn’t really look at him. She didn’t want to risk losing sight of the security guard with Tristan on his shoulder. “What?”