Jane stared down at an open thick folder. It was one of several on the table. She lifted it and brought it over. “Young man, this is impressive.” She set down the folder. “These images of the sun are outstanding. Are the dates and times correct?”
“Yeah,” Troy replied. “I take them every two hours, sometimes more, sometimes less.”
“How? How are you getting the images?”
“The refractor and I print the images from the computer, after I mark them,” Troy answered.
“But that takes electricity,” said Jane.
“I use a generator.”
West laughed. “I thought you said he was smart.”
“Dude, don’t judge me, I am.”
“I am not a dude,” West told him.
“Okay ... Sir. I am smart. I know when the pulses are coming. I chart every one and know when they released. They travel about one point three million miles an hour and take about seventy-one hours to get here. I shut down. I’m still alive. I’m doing something … smart, right?”
“How many have there been?” Shane asked.
“Since India? Not including the large one that wiped out most of the population … twenty-five the first day. After that, they were releasing every four hours. Today though, only one. I think the massive building CME ate them.”
Jane lifted an image., “So you do know about this. I see you have it marked.”
“It scares me,” Troy replied. “This one is going to jolt everything, like a defibrillator jump starting a heart. All those underground wires, people running generators, I think we’re looking at massive amounts of flashovers.”
“What’s a flashover?” Shane asked.
As if on automatic, I replied. “Sometimes it’s called an arc flash. It’s when the air is the conductor, and basically it’s an air to ground electrical explosion.”
West tightened his lips and nodded his head at me. “Wow, good short explanation.”
“Is everything going to explode?” Shane asked with a hint of panic.
West shook his head. “No, it’s a flash fire of intense heat. The radius is small. I think saying ‘all over’ is an overstatement by this young man. It’s possible to happen for things running, like a generator.”
“Well, all it takes is one generator,” Troy said smug. “At the wrong place, at the wrong time.”
Jane looked at him. “North Anna.”
West waved out his hand. “I’m one for being cautious about North Anna, but we don’t know if the emergency system is still running.”
“It is,” Troy said. “At least it was yesterday.”
Jane shook her head. “Do not tell me you went out there?”
“No, I’m not that crazy,” Troy said. “Yesterday some dude … I mean man was at the camp. He was telling people they had to clear out. He came from that area. He said the backup was running, but it wouldn’t for long.”
“Okay,” West said. “That means the smaller pulses aren’t touching those generators. That gives us a few more days until the generators run out and then a couple more days until the meltdown.”
“That is of course,” Jane added. “If the generators survive the big CME, which they won’t. If the CME hits while the generator is running, that core is hot and …”
Troy interrupted with a dramatic explosion sound.
We all looked at him.
“Sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t resist.”
“He’s right,” West said. “Even with the silly sound effects, the explosion is going to be big. Incineration within a twenty-mile radius, deadly radiation within hours right here. The question is …” he looked at Troy. “When is it coming?”
<><><><>
I studied those books by the light of my lantern, while sitting on the floor of the observatory museum. Everyone tried to rest, but I didn’t.
No one was really asleep. It was quiet, for a while I heard the hum of the generator. Then Troy turned it off. I needed to gather all the knowledge, and as many supplies as I could. I would leave at first light, and I would leave alone. I wasn’t sure how West or Shane would take it, and I actually contemplated not telling them, but that wouldn’t be fair. Not after all they had done for me.
Troy and I spoke, he thought I was nuts but understood. He knew where to find the Faraday suits and equipment. They’d be heavy, but I’d only wear them in the car. After he helped me with that, it would be the last I would rely on anyone.
I had plotted my course. I would take I-64 another forty miles east near North Anna. If no luck, then I’d turn back. There was still that stretch of interstate between Waynesboro and Charlottesville that hadn’t been searched because we went to Fan Mountain. I needed to get the farthest point out of the way first.
On my return trip, I planned to leave my mark in the form of a message sprayed with red paint on road signs and billboards. A message to my family.
‘Audrey Fields – Alive. Is Home’
Even though ‘home’ was on the edge of the circumference of danger, I’d leave word there as to where my final destination was.
“Hey,” Shane said softly.
“Hey.” I looked up.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Mind if I sit?”
“At your own risk,” I said. “I’ve been told my hand doesn’t smell all that great.”
“I’m a plumber. I’ve smelled worse. But that’s why I’m here.” He had a little case and he showed me as he sat down. “You haven’t changed that bandage.”
“I don’t want to look at it. I know it’s bad. I figured … if I keep it covered, I won’t have to see it until they chop it off at some medical camp.”
“Give me the hand, Audrey. You don’t have to look.”
After hesitation, I extended my hand and turned my back. I could feel him undoing the bandages.
“You’re working hard, I see,” Shane said.
“Trying to be informed.” I crinkled my noise when I smelled the sour odor of my exposed hand.
Shane didn’t waver as he spoke, nor did he give any indication of the state of my hand. “Being informed is good. Let me know if I hurt you.”
“You’re not.”
“Hopefully, you’ll share your knowledge if you find anything out.”
“Absolutely.” After the cool feeling of ointment, I felt the pressure as he placed on the bandages. There really wasn’t any pain at all in my fingers, just an occasional stabbing pain in the palm of my hand.
“All done.”
“Thank you. How long … how long does the hand have?”
“I’m not a doctor, I won’t even guess. It’ll smell better with the fresh bandages.” Shane stood up. “I know it’s …” He paused at the sound of running footsteps then turned when Troy raced in the room.
“Guys,” Troy said out of breath. “We have problems.”
At that point West and Jane both sat up then stood. With assistance from Shane I made it to my feet.
“The big one?” Jane asked.
He handed her the paper. “I checked and double checked. It let loose about two hours ago.”
“We have three days,” West said, then turned to me. “We have three days to look and clear the area.”
“No,” Troy said. “This one is moving fast. Not Carrington fast, but fast. All the ones that left before it, it’s shooting through them, knocking them out.”
“How fast?” asked West.
“Fast.” Troy looked at me. “I’m sorry. I know you have your search. But as of right now … you have thirty-six hours.”
Thirty-six hours, that was it. That was all I had to make my way as far east as I could. After that, it was game over. With a major portion of the nuclear power plants focused on the east coast, a good portion of the United States was about to become a vast wasteland. One that I would never be able to search after thirty-six hours.
If I didn’t find them or know of their whereabouts by then, I stood a chance of never knowing what
happened to my family.
29 – SPLITTING
“What? Are you insane?” West asked, he was angry at me and made no bones about it. “No. Absolutely not. You are not going out there alone.”
“I need to do this,” I argued.
“I understand. I do. I get it. You don’t want to depend or rely on anyone.”
“Yes.”
“It’s more than that, Audrey. Pairing up is strategically the smart thing to do. You think you’ll just drive right through? You don’t think there’ll be highways blocked? Yeah, it’s only fifty miles, but it might as well be a thousand right now.”
Shane stepped closer. “I hate the thought of her going out there alone, but if this is what she wants we have to give that to her.”
“Thank you,” I said to Shane.
“No, really, it’s not,” West said. “We go.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I can’t ask you to do this.”
“You’re not,” he said.
“You can’t stop me from going alone.”
“You’re right. You are absolutely right,” West said. “Just like you can’t stop me from following you.”
“It’s dangerous. We could get caught in the meltdown. You could die.”
“Then I die. That means I see my son sooner.” He nodded at me. “Audrey, you are searching for something, doesn’t matter how hard it is, your family is out there. You have a goal. Do you have any idea what it’s like to go in circles searching for nothing? Having no focus, no goal, other than to keep moving? This … this is the first focus I have had since my son died. Don’t take that from me.”
I released a long, post thinking breath. “Fine. But you both can’t go.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Shane lifted his hands. “Just say bye and never see you two again. I told you before no one was out there looking for me.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I want you to go to Lynchburg with the Colonel. Stop at Waynesboro and put a note in my house, just in case Michael goes back there, or Ken. Something that adds to the note I already left. Let them know I will head to Lynchburg. Because we will. I have to go somewhere to get this hand chopped off.”
“That’s not funny,” said Shane. “Nor is it true.” He paused. “You’ll only lose the fingers.”
“Then you’ll do it?” I asked.
“Yes.” Shane nodded. “But if you don’t show up in Lynchburg in seventy-two hours, radiation or not, I come looking for you.”
“You won’t have to,” West replied. “With Troy’s system mapped out, we’ll be near Richmond by the end of today, then in Fredericksburg, then out of there before the big one hits.”
“And remember” Troy said. “When it’s time for the big one, you’ll know by the sky. Get at least fifteen feet away from the car. Nothing may happen, but don’t take chances.”
We listened to his advice and then we made preparations to go.
Jane wasn’t giving up her horse and buggy system, so it would take the three of them most of the day to get to Waynesboro. At that point Shane and Troy felt confident in taking my car to Lynchburg.
To be safe, before leaving, we hit the utility company and found the Faraday suits, hoods, boots and gloves.
They were heavy, almost too heavy for me to wear. If I wasn’t in enough pain, it was excruciating when I tried one on. The weight was too much to bear. Troy once again, assured me his system would work. We’d be safe.
Jane was so no nonsense and didn’t mince words. I thanked her and told her I looked forward to seeing her in Lynchburg. She responded by telling me not to dally or take chances, bringing up that I looked even paler and I could always resume my search when I was well.
Granted I was in pain and felt a little unwell, but I was nowhere near what everyone implied I was.
West and I found a car and were ready to go.
Troy gave us the means that I believed would keep us safe and alive. It didn’t help the nervousness as we drove. I kept telling myself that if it did happen, I probably wouldn’t feel it.
He gave us the schedule of surges that would arrive over the course of three days. They were approximate times. We synchronized our times so make sure we were all on the same page. He didn’t think we’d need to worry after the big CME, but we weren’t taking chances. With the list, he gave us a windup alarm clock and a bag full of dollar store, single battery, small flashlights.
“Set the alarm according to the schedule,” Troy explained. “You’ll have to reset it after the surge. Remember to give it an hour before the impact time. You’ll need that leeway. Once you are out of the car, or wherever you are, light the flashlight and set it down. If the battery hasn’t died when the surge hits, the flashlight will flip around a bit and go out. That is your sign it’s over. And finally, the best warning method … put the radio on.”
“The radio?” I asked. “Why?”
“The antenna on the car works like the hearing aid. Turn up the volume. It will continuously scan until it picks up the static in the air. Trust me you’ll hear it. Stop the car, shut it off. You have five seconds, but do it in three.”
He was so smart, and I was happy to have met him. I hoped that Jane would work with him, together, they were a vital part of our future, I believed it.
We packed up and said our goodbyes, with full intention on meeting up. Parting ways wasn’t easy, it was frightening. But it was the best thing to do. I believed it.
“Can I ask you two something,” West said, looking at Troy and Jane before we left. “After the big one, is it over?”
Jane answered first, “Troy believes that the big one is grabbing the little ones on the way. Like a massive tidal wave gathering up force. Theoretically, all the ones on that list that are supposed to come after the big one, we think they won’t.”
“But is it over?” West asked. “Will things go back to normal?”
“The sun may take a break, but I don’t think it’s done,” Troy sadly shook his head. “To answer your question … no. Things will never go back to the way they were. If we want to survive as a species beyond this … it can never go back to normal again.”
30 – DISHEARTENED
We bore witness.
It wasn’t supposed to happen, in a way though, I expected it upon first setting foot at the roadside camp.
A Ladka mini surge, as West insisted on calling them, was due to arrive at eleven in the morning. Merely two hours after we got on the road. I honestly expected to be in Richmond by then. After all, it wasn’t the longest drive. Then just a few miles into the trip the road was blocked with a pile up. We stopped to look, the accident had been there since the first big CME hit. The bodies were badly decomposing in the heat and the smell in the area was unbearable.
We back tracked back to Shadwell and took a secondary route around that brought us two miles down on the interstate beyond the sea of cars.
“They were there from the beginning,” West said as he drove. “No one will be on that section we skipped. But it you want to go back…”
“No.” I shook my head. “We keep going forward.”
I thought about the possibility that my husband didn’t get back on the interstate, what if he went north? The country was vast, and unless we had a lead, we were searching for a needle in a haystack.
“Why didn’t people pay attention?” I asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“They were warned this was a possibility. I grabbed the last newspaper when I went to the drug store, they said it could happen.”
“Not globally,” West said. “You left the newspaper out. I read the article. It was stating it could be localized like in India. So everyone suffered from the ‘it won’t happen to me’, syndrome. Would you have paid attention? And that newspaper would have been out just before half the people went to bed.”
“There was the news.” I shrugged. “And to answer your question, probably not. I wouldn’t have listened. I’m still stuck on the fact that
if Ken was out there, I would stay put. Because I’d be damn well certain he’d make his way back.”
“I can’t even venture to guess why your husband left town. But you have to assume he did it for your daughter. She had to be his first priority, so he left because he needed to protect her. They kept moving, because you heard what that man said yesterday. Washington, Fredericksburg shut down the grids.”
“What is out east that can’t be found here?”
“Um, if they shut down the grid beforehand … normalcy. People.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” I said. “If you think about it, if Washington DC was shutting down the grid, that means it was a government thing. If that was the case then the whole country would have …” My words were interrupted by the ringing of the wind up alarm clock. I knew it was coming but, when it rang, it caused me to jump.
“That went fast. Nothing is coming through on the radio. You want to keep going or stop and wait it out?”
“Can we stop first chance?” I asked. “I need to tighten my bandages, and I think I need some sun, the air conditioning is cold in here.”
“Audrey, I’m conserving gas, the air isn’t on.” He reached his hand over.
I backed up. “What are you doing?”
Despite my protest, he placed the back of his hand on my forehead. “Jesus, Audrey, you’re burning up.”
“West, I’m okay.”
“I’m sure you are, how are you feeling?”
“I just told you, I’m okay.”
“I’m pulling over. There’s a rest area in two miles. We’ll pull over there. You rewrap, rest, take some ibuprofen for the fever.”
I knew I had to be slightly feverish, just the feeling of being chilled told me that. Though I did doubt I was burning up. I was weak and in some pain, but nothing I couldn’t handle.
Just as we passed the one mile to rest area sign, we saw smoke. Not much, but enough to make me worry.
Here we go again, I thought. Then as we rounded the bend, we saw that wasn’t the case.
Above the Hush Page 12