EMP

by Wilson Harp

  Over three hundred people had died in Kenton. Many more would die in the upcoming months. The heat, the malnutrition, maybe even an outbreak of a disease would take many. I didn’t want to know each name. I didn’t want to know each story. I’d leave that to Luke Carter.

  I went back to Millie and sat down on the grass. I was tired. Bone tired as my dad would say. I would wait until the meal was ready and take it home, just over a mile, eat it and then go work on the radio until the sun went down.

  Then I would lay on the bed and pray for rain, pray for safety for Lexi and Emma, and pray for my parents. I generally would fall asleep sometime in that routine. Then I would wake up with a start and begin another day of just trying to survive.

  “David,” said Millie. “Go get your container, we are about ready to serve up the stew. Had four rabbits and two ducks brought in today, so you all will get a few bites of meat.”

  “What about the beets?” I asked. She was washing them carefully in a tub of water.

  “Tomorrow. We’ll stew them separate and add them as a side.”

  I was looking forward to having a bit more variety in the stew, but with rabbit and duck meat tonight, it should be a filling dinner. I looked at the field with the wheat growing and felt my mouth get moist thinking about a piece of bread to go with dinner.

  I went and gathered the container I would bring back, washed and dried, the next morning. I handed it to Millie and she ladled four large spoonfuls of stew. I noted she went out of her way to add some extra meat to the container.

  “You make sure your dad gets some of that rabbit,” she said. “He needs to keep his strength up.”

  “I will, Millie. I’ll be here tomorrow to get you some more beets,” I said as I took the container of hot stew. I went to where the greens were being prepared and collected the small bag that contained our side.

  It was amazing how much just a few bites of vegetables could satisfy the growling stomach. My thoughts drifted to what I would normally eat on a salad. I’d have carrots and cucumbers, tomatoes and croutons. Oh, croutons! Those would be missing for quite some time. At least the carrots, cucumbers and tomatoes would be available in the next month or so.

  We just had to make it through this week, and then maybe the next, but more varieties of crops would come in. Once we made it through the summer, we would have the fall harvest to look forward to. Pecans and walnuts, apples and peaches. I had heard there were some berries that would be available in the summer, but I really didn’t know about any berries except strawberries. And the farmers agreed they weren’t worth the effort. We needed foods that could be keep us going, not just foods that would be flavorful.

  I knew thinking about different foods wouldn’t help my stomach pangs or help me focus on what I needed to think on. I looked around and saw I was already halfway home. My pace increased as I thought about working on the radio. Maybe I was putting too much power through it? Maybe I had missed a critical area? What about the capacitors? Could one of those have burned out?

  I had been over all of those questions before and hadn’t been able to figure it out, but I was sure I was close to the solution.

  Mom was out front of the house with a bucket and a pile of clothes when I approached. She waved at me and went back to her work. I had suggested to dad she go and work for Millie, but he didn’t like that idea. She had been pretty good these last couple of weeks, but he was worried what would happen if she had a bad day. The worst she could do here is break our stuff, ruin our water, or knock over our outhouse, again.

  There, he said, she could ruin food for fifteen families in one outburst.

  I agreed, grudgingly.

  “David,” Mom said as I drew near. “Did you hear the news?”

  “No, Mom. What news?”

  I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

  She kissed me back and smiled.

  “They found some deer!” she said. Her eyes twinkled. She looked ten years younger when she was happy and I could tell she was focused and clear.

  “That’s great,” I said. “Who got it?”

  “Three. Buck and his boys got three. Two does and a buck. Buck got the buck.” She laughed. “Isn’t that funny?”

  “Sure is,” I said with a laugh. “Where are they?”

  “Hanging out in front of Buck’s garage, from what I understand.”

  “When will they butcher them?”

  “I’m not sure. Your dad went down there to see.”

  “Okay, I’m going to go put our stew in the house and wash up for supper.”

  “Thank you, David,” Mom said as she went back to her work.

  I went through the garage and into the kitchen. I set the container of stew on the counter and the bag of salad on the table.

  I didn’t remember the last time I had been alone in the house. It was an odd feeling, one I did not enjoy.

  I walked back to my room. I intended to look at the radio for a few minutes before supper, but instead I turned and looked into my parent’s bedroom. It was essentially the same as when I grew up. The bed and dressers were the same and in the same location. The curtains on the window were the same ones my mom had hung when I was a child. They were a gift from Aunt Alice.

  This room was a place of shelter. A solid point in the chaos of life. No matter what was going on in my life, I could know this room would always be here and always be the same.

  I thought about Emma. What had I established that had given her a point of solidity to hold onto? We had moved often as both Lexi and I advanced in our careers. We changed furniture on a whim, the layout of rooms without consideration. The only unchanging element for Emma was we were together as a family. And now we weren’t.

  “Davey?”

  “Here, Dad,” I answered.

  I walked back into the kitchen. Dad had opened the container with the stew and was looking at it.

  “No beets?” he asked.

  “Missus Marsh said they would add them tomorrow.”

  He looked up as he did when he was considering what to say.

  “She’s getting food stored up. That’s more clever of her than I would have thought. Maybe the council had that idea,” he said after a few seconds.

  “Stored up?”

  “We have been living day to day, Davey. And while that is no small feat, we need to start storing some food for a rainy day.”

  “I think that phrase is more literal now,” I said.

  “Indeed.” He closed the container and motioned me to sit down. “Did you hear about the deer?”

  I nodded as I sat down. “I understand they took three.”

  “Yes, and Buck says he saw at least four more.”

  “Sounds like the deer are coming closer to town again.”

  “It does. That’s good news for us, as we will get more meat in our diet, but it also means the coyotes might be heading back in as well.”

  “We’ll have to keep an eye on the kids and pets,” I said.

  “There is always a balance, you know? When something good happens, there is often a danger associated with it. And when something bad happens, there is often an opportunity.”

  Mom walked into the kitchen with her empty laundry basket.

  “Oh, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything serious,” she said as she saw us at the table.

  “No. Not at all dear,” Dad said as he stood and took the laundry basket from her.

  “You may want to check on those clothes in a bit,” Mom said looking out at the laundry drying on the clothes line. “A storm’s coming.”

  Chapter 11

  I held Emma’s hand as I helped her up the crumbling wall.

  “Hurry,” Lexi called. She was standing on the remains of the tower and waving us up.

  I pulled Emma up the last few feet and she fell into me, giggling and smiling.

  She was eight years old again. No, fourteen.

  “Will you two hurry up?” Lexi asked. She laughed and we were standing with her.
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br />   I turned my head back and saw the land behind me burning. Desolation stretched as far as I could see.

  “We’re almost there Dave,” Lexi said.

  I turned to look at my wife and daughter. They stood on the tower and were looking out on the land we were struggling to reach.

  I screamed as a bolt of lightning hit the tower.

  Everything was dark, then the thunder hit and I tried to open my eyes.

  “David?” Mom asked. “Are you alright?”

  I shook my head and realized that my eyes were open, it was just pitch black in the room. It was a dream. I had dreamed of my wife and daughter again. I heard their voices, I felt their presence. But it was just vivid echoes of the dream.

  “I’m okay, just a bad dream,” I yelled back to Mom.

  I lay back on the bed and was startled by a flash of light. The storm was here.

  All through the evening before, we could see the line of clouds march from the West.

  I had always mocked the weathermen on television. They didn’t seem to know what was going to happen any more than the average person. Now I missed the general information they could provide.

  Was the storm merely a line of thunder that would go past us overnight or would it be a system that would be with us for days? Would we have high winds, tornadoes or hail?

  Of all of those, hail scared me the most. In the past, hail would have meant an irritating phone call to the insurance agent and a trip to the body shop. Maybe I would have to climb a ladder and check for damage to the roof.

  Now, hail meant we could lose some of our crop. Losing our crop would mean starvation and more people in graves.

  I grew restless as I considered what could happen, so I left the bed and went to the window. The storm silenced the normal sounds night brought to life and performed a symphony of its own. The sound of wind combined with the creaks, whistles, and thumping of the trees and buildings.

  When illuminated by street lights and the ambient glow of modern life, the sounds were recognizable and ordinary. In the darkness that smothered the town tonight, however, it brought to mind all of the fears and terrors I had as a very young child.

  We are all afraid of the dark to some extent. It’s the fear of the unknown, and more, the fear we can’t see something that might be able to see us.

  Lightning slashed through the sky and I could see the Johnson’s house clearly. Some animal was walking through the yard. I barely saw it. It may have been a cat, opossum, or even a skunk. The image was burned onto my eyes, but not clearly enough to be sure.

  The thunder rolled in a few seconds later. I put on a pair of jeans and left my room. I could feel a strong draft of air coming down the hall and knew the front door stood open.

  “Can’t sleep?” I asked softly as I turned the corner.

  I couldn’t see him, but I knew Dad stood near the open doorway.

  “Never could sleep through storms.” Dad lied. He never woke, even in the worst storms, when I was young.

  “Have the rains started yet?” I made my way through the living room to stand by the door.

  “No, not yet. Should be soon. Smells like it is about to drop.”

  “Think it will hail?”

  “Hope not,” he said. “We sure don’t need to lose the wheat.”

  We stood in silence as we waited for the rain to start.

  “Do you dream about food, Davey?”

  “Sometimes,” I said. “Mostly I dream about Lexi and Emma. But I dream about food sometimes.”

  “I feel guilty about that, Davey. I asked you to make time to come down here. I thought you needed to spend time with your mom, and I needed something to take my mind off of things. I didn’t mean for you to leave your family behind.”

  “It’s not your fault, Dad. It’s no one’s fault. If things… if things were different, we might have all been down here together. But things are what they are.”

  The rain started to fall. It was a heavy rain that fell in solid sheets. It wasn’t a gradual rain, it was one which starts like someone threw a switch. The smell of wet earth rushed into our open house. The rain brought the frigid air from the upper atmosphere with it and I shivered as the temperature dropped,

  “What food do you dream about, Dad?”

  “Sounds odd, but cookies mostly.”

  “Mom’s snickerdoodles?”

  Dad chuckled. “No, but don’t tell her that. I dream about chocolate chips cookies for the most part. They have always been my favorite.”

  “Cookies do sound good. In fact, anything bread-like would be a dream.”

  “Well, when we get the wheat in, separated, and ground, I would get ready for basic, flat bread for a while.”

  “Flat bread?”

  “Not a lot of yeast, I’m figuring.”

  “What about sourdough?” I asked.

  “Don’t know. Maybe someone in town will know how to make bread from scratch. Maybe Sharon Little has a book that has that trick.”

  “Dad, Sharon took her life yesterday.”

  The sound of the rain filled the silence for a few minutes.

  “What about her boys? Did she take them, too?”

  “Yeah, she did.”

  Dad swore under his breath.

  “I’ll go over to her house and look for any books we can put to use tomorrow,” he said.

  “Some people just crack under this pressure, I suppose,” I said.

  “No. Cracking under the pressure is understandable. Giving up is unforgivable. She didn’t need to take those boys with her. That shows her character more than anything else. She decided if life couldn’t be lived on her terms, then it wasn’t worth living for anyone.”

  “I just want to get through tomorrow. And the next day. And the next.”

  Dad put his hand on my arm. “Davey, I want you to get your family back. That is what I want. Me and your mom… we can do alright. If you think you can find a way to get back to Chicago, I think you should.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I just don’t know how to even start. It’s almost five hundred miles. I figure even if I can walk twenty miles a day, that is still almost a month. And I would need to make sure I had plenty of food and water.”

  “Well, figure a pound of food a day, and a quart of water. That’s what? Eighty pounds of food and water for the trip?”

  “I don’t think I could make a trip with an eighty pound pack strapped to my back. And I would have to cross the Mississippi. I just don’t know.”

  “Don’t give up, Davey. And don’t look at the problem. That will make you feel overwhelmed. Look for the solution, like you are with the radio.”

  “I don’t know that I have a solution for the radio. Not yet anyway.”

  “Don’t give up. If you are working on it, then likely there are others that are as well. If so, then we should be able to communicate with other towns when you get it working.”

  “What about you, Dad? What do you want? If I left, what would you have to keep you and Mom going?”

  “I don’t know. To eat a chocolate chip cookie,” he laughed. “That would be a good start. I’d like the thrill of feeling the wind blow on my face while riding in a car. I’d like a reason to have to put on a suit again. I like my old suit, but I’m afraid it will hang in my closet until it rots.”

  He turned to me. “Say, not to be morbid, but when I pass, bury me in that suit.”

  “I really don’t want to think about that, Dad,” I whispered.

  The rain had shifted to a steady shower while we had talked. The lightning and thunder didn’t seem as close, but each time the sky lit up, we could see nothing but a solid roof of clouds.

  “We probably shouldn’t be standing in this doorway. Might catch a cold,” I said.

  “You go on back to bed. I’ll stay up and watch the rain a bit more.”

  I pulled Dad in for a hug. He patted my shoulder and I made my way back to my room. This night was a reflection of our current situation. We knew things were happenin
g outside of our ability to perceive them, but we would have to wait until the storm passed and the morning dawned in order to see what we had experienced.

  I shut the door to my room and slid my jeans off. I sat on the edge of my bed and thought about what Dad said. Could I start the trip up to Chicago? What would I need to take with me? Could I go alone?

  The bands of raiders that had burned and looted Wilcox were a major concern. If I left and was killed on the way, then I couldn’t help Lexi and Emma, nor could I help Mom and Dad. I would just be dead.

  I felt guilty as I thought that. It felt like I was justifying my cowardice. I suppose I was, to a certain point. But the reality was, I could do something useful here. I could fix the radio and get us in contact with others who were keeping their towns together.

  Once we had a way to talk to others, I could figure a way to get to Chicago and start looking for my family.

  Lighting lit my room again, and I yawned. I was too tired to work on the radio, anyway, so I decided to get some sleep. I lay down and soon I was dreaming of Emma and chocolate chip cookies at a birthday party.

  The next morning I woke and looked at the window. Sunshine should have pushed me awake some time before. I pulled my pocket watch from the nightstand and looked at it. Nine o’clock. This was the latest I had slept in a long time. Months, maybe a year.

  I looked over at the window and saw the sky was dark and gray. I sat up, stretched my arms above my head and listened for a minute. The sound of rain was soft and steady, not like the wind-swept torrents when I stood at the door last night. I heard some movement in the kitchen, so I knew at least one of my parents was awake.

  I grabbed my jeans and shoes and got dressed. I went into the kitchen where my Dad had a candle burning on the table. He was reading a book.

  “Good morning, David,” Mom said.

  I turned and saw her working on a piece of cross-stitch she had found. She hadn’t done cross-stitch since I was quite young.

  “Morning Mom,” I said.

  “Take the umbrella,” Dad said as I started to open the garage door. Just inside the garage was an open umbrella drying.