Grid Down: The Beginning - An EMP Survival Story

by Roger Hayden

  They passed an Egyptian wing spotlighting the famous Temple of Dendur monument. Sunlight poured into the exhibition room from the long, angled windows from floor to ceiling. Staff members entered the room and quickly pulled down shutters, blocking out the sun and darkening the room. Mrs. Ramsey led Rob and Mila down a hall past several exhibition rooms.

  “The children are in the cafeteria,” Mrs. Ramsey said, slightly turning her head.

  “It’s a good thing we ran into you when we did,” Rob said. “Where were you headed?”

  Her Algeria shoes clicked against the glossy stone floor with her hurried pace. “I was on my way to go check on the buses,” she responded.

  “My guess is that they won’t start. Am I right?”

  “We’re working on it, and I don’t know what the problem is,” she said.

  “Mrs. Ramsey,” Rob began, “things are going to get much, much worse. I’ve read a lot about this. What we’re experiencing now is only the beginning of a deliberate attack on this country. Are you familiar with the effects of an EMP?”

  Mrs. Ramsey paused. “An electromagnetic pulse? Yes. I had my suspicions as well.”

  “Then you understand how important it is to keep these students safe. You’re going to need a police or military escort if you plan to get these students home.”

  Mrs. Ramsey looked at Rob, wide-eyed. “I wouldn’t even know where to start to request that.”

  “I wouldn’t know, either. But I can tell you that it’s the only way.”

  Mila spoke up. “And not every parent is going to do what we’ve done.”

  “I understand,” Mrs. Ramsey said. “The teachers are going to have a meeting and discuss the best plan of action.”

  “We saw a man being shot to death in broad daylight, right in front of us a few blocks away. He was shoplifting. Thousands of other people will soon be doing the same,” Rob said.

  Mrs. Ramsey seemed unnerved. He hoped that she got the message.

  They approached the cafeteria—the size of a large mall food court—and could see the room was packed with children sitting at tables. Mrs. Ramsey pushed open double doors and they were met with clamorous chatter. Students ate from their sack lunches, talking and laughing as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

  Mrs. Ramsey stopped them and turned around. “We have six classes in here, two from each grade. We’ve got them under control now, but it’s been difficult.”

  “And their cell phones?” Rob asked.

  “Not one works. It’s got them on edge, that’s for sure.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  She shrugged. “Temporary glitch.”

  “Not the first time that’s been said today, I assure you,” Rob said.

  Mila scanned the room through a sea of children. She wanted to yell for them but wasn’t keen on making a scene. Rob seemed to not share the same concern. He cupped his hands and shouted for them, gaining the attention of the entire room.

  The chatter among the students died down as faces turned to them. Mrs. Ramsey stood sheepishly to the side as other teachers looked up, startled.

  Two children stood up on opposite sides of the cafeteria as all eyes turned to them. Josh, on one end, looked over and squinted, clearly perplexed by his parents’ presence.

  “Dad?” Kelly said, hurrying over. “Mom?”

  The other students watched in near silence as Josh scurried away as if facing the most awkward moment of his life.

  Mila hugged Kelly and then went toward Josh—who backed away, embarrassed.

  “What are you guys doing here?” he asked.

  “We’ve come to take you home,” Rob answered.

  Kelly was not enthused. “But they’ve had us in here all morning. We’ve haven’t seen anything yet!”

  Mila put her arm around Kelly, comforting her. “We’ll come another time, honey. We have to get home now.”

  “The power is going to come back on any minute,” Kelly said. “I know it.”

  Rob leaned in with a stern look and not a hint of patience left in him.

  “Do you have all your things?” he asked.

  Kelly nodded with her backpack over her shoulders.

  Josh was empty-handed. “What is this all about?” he asked.

  “Get your things and let’s go,” Rob said to him. “I’ll explain later.”

  Josh seemed to get the message and moved quickly back to the table as some of the other kids looked up and watched him, snickering. “Have fun sitting here all day,” he said back to them, grabbing his backpack.

  Rob and Mila thanked Mrs. Ramsey. “You have no idea how much you’ve done for us,” Mila said.

  Rob looked around the cafeteria one last time. There was no conceivable plan to look after them all. He only hoped Mrs. Ramsey would heed his warnings. Feeling magnanimous, he lifted up the end of his shirt, exposing the pistol in his pocket. “Mrs. Ramsey. I don’t want to alarm you, but I really think you might be better off with this. It’s the least we can do.”

  She recoiled. “Mr. Parker. This is a gun-free zone. I’d suggest your family move along before any of the security guards get wind of this.”

  “I understand,” Rob said, lowering his shirt. “Just remember what I said. Things are only going to get worse. Your best bet is to wait in here until proper accommodations can be made to get these children home.”

  Mrs. Ramsey nodded. “We plan to, Mr. Parker. The safety of our students comes first at all times.”

  Rob didn’t envy her position, and he knew they had to move on. He looked to his waiting family and signaled to the double doors. “Let’s go.”

  True to Rob’s fears, things only seemed to have gotten worse outside. Museum security guards had organized a vast perimeter around the building with barricades and extra guards. He hurried his family down the stairs outside the museum’s north entrance, down onto the sidewalk where crowds had assembled along 5th Avenue in a cacophony of pandemonium. Neither Josh nor Kelly looked prepared for it.

  Rob stopped them before going any farther. “Stay close to us. We have a good two miles back to the car.”

  They tried to listen, but were distracted.

  “Why’d you park so far away?” Josh asked.

  Rob outstretched his arm in an all-encompassing gesture. Easily outnumbering other vehicles, Yellow taxis filled all three lanes of the Fifth Avenue and East Eighty-second Street intersection near the museum. The roads were filled with hundreds of people on the sidewalk and street corners as well. The NYPD was on the scene, mismatched between riot gear and regular uniforms, trying to enforce order.

  Lines of street vendors defensively manned their stations, trying to keep up with the demands of the encircling crowds, growing impatient and demanding food while waving cash in the air. Local news crews were on site, trying to get their equipment to work to no avail.

  “What happened?” Josh asked. “Why are there so many people out here?”

  “Listen to me carefully,” Rob said, trying to talk over all the noise. “The power grids are down. Cars have been disabled, along with phones and electronics. We have to get out of the city. Everything will be OK as long as we get to the cabin.”

  Josh pulled out his cell phone, powerless like all the others. “But I thought it was just something in the museum that shut phones down.”

  “It’s everywhere,” Rob said. “Happened about two hours ago. We don’t have a lot of time. Stick close and follow me.”

  Kelly squeezed Mila’s hand tightly with one hand while biting the nails of the other.

  People pushed against each other as crowds overflowed the area. A child stood near, crying for her mother. A man carried an unconscious woman along. Rob pushed back and tried to keep his family from being suffocated. There was barely anywhere to walk. Barely any space to move.

  The alarming sounds of helicopters further drove the panic. People looked up as five Black Hawks hovered overhead. Past the helicopters, a fleet of fighter jets blasted through the
skyline, leaving long trails of smoke behind them.

  Thick black ropes then dropped from the Black Hawks onto what little space there was on the ground. Soldiers dressed sleekly in dark, urban-gray fatigues descended down the ropes with high-powered rifles clipped to their assault vests. Their abrupt presence startled the already uneasy crowd.

  As the helicopters boomed above, sending circles of debris into the air, confused people took their attention off non-functioning phones and tablets and stood in awe.

  “Dad…” Josh said, pointing as one soldier effortlessly slid down a rope and landed nearby.

  Rob was caught in the spectacle and unresponsive.

  “We should go,” Mila said, pulling Kelly along. “This doesn’t look good.”

  Rob ushered Josh along, following Mila. “Keep moving. Let’s go.”

  They pushed through a crowd and crossed the street. Rob pointed up the road. “Just the way we came. Hurry.”

  They stayed close together, constricted by the crowd, and moved as quickly as possible as more and more soldiers hit the ground. They wore thick, tinted visor helmets with no discernible military branch, identification, or rank on their fatigues.

  The soldiers brandished rifles with long, one-hundred round magazines protruding from the ends, clutching them with black tactical gloves. The wary crowds began backing away from wherever the soldiers landed. A loud voice blared over one of the helicopter bullhorns.

  “Please disperse from the streets now. A tactical clearing will take place in thirty seconds. Please disperse from the streets…”

  “Tactical clearing?” Mila said, looking back at Rob. “What are they talking about?”

  As they continued up the sidewalk, people began moving every which way. The soldiers kept their rifles aimed forward and began shouting to the people from under their masks, “Move! Move! Move!”

  Even the police officers looked confused. The soldiers announced themselves as an elite urban tactical unit specializing in crowd control through their voice boxes.

  “We’ve been tasked with clearing the roads to make way for emergency transport,” one soldier told a police officer through the voice box on his visor mask.

  The police seemed reluctantly on board. They began to usher more people off the street, facing resistance from pedestrians. And while the officers showed restraint, the soldiers took a much harsher stance. They pulled noncompliant people out of their vehicles, threw them on the ground, and clubbed them in the head without hesitation.

  Rob urged his family to move faster. They traveled north up Fifth Avenue, desperately trying to reach East Eighty-fourth Street, three blocks ahead. Rob led them across Madison Avenue, squeezing past cars, to Park Avenue, where many others were fleeing.

  “Clear the road!” another soldier shouted through his voice box. He swung his buttstock and just missed Rob’s face. Rob shoved on without looking back, keeping his family close.

  Soldiers descended upon defiant crowds blocking the road.

  “Get off the street!” they shouted with their rifles aimed. “Now!”

  Smoke grenade canisters flew into the air and hit the ground, igniting loud pops followed by billows of purple smoke that dispersed the crowd into disoriented and frightened packs, trying to escape the noxious fumes.

  Those in the thick of the smoke fell to their knees gagging, with their eyes watering and thick mucus pouring from their mouths and nostrils.

  More canisters flew into the air, striking the ground, and rolling as they exploded into colorful clouds that spread down the street. Rob led his family in one long chain, out of the smoke and farther down the road. The unruly crowds were getting more dangerous, and he feared a stampede.

  A thundering crash echoed down the street, followed by an explosion of glass and metal. People stopped, stunned and frozen in their tracks. An enormous cargo truck, wide enough to take up all three lanes, barreled down the street, smashing cars and heaving them out of the way with its front-end plow blade.

  The machine tossed vehicles to the side in wrecked heaps, and showed no signs of slowing down. With smoke billowing from its exhaust pipe, the truck chugged down the road at a steady speed of thirty miles an hour, tossing cars aside with startling precision and no regard for anything in its path.

  Rob pulled Mila close and shouted over the din surrounding them. “We’ve got to get through! Follow me!” Rob pushed his way through the crowd and they made it to the corner on Eighty-fourth Street. They ran as fast as they could down the sidewalk, joining others, hysterical and desperate to get as far away as possible.

  Soldiers dropped from ropes all around them as Black Hawks circled the city.

  “Let’s go. Try to keep up,” Rob said.

  Kelly was falling behind. Her legs could only move so fast. Mila kept a tight grip on her hand, slowing just enough for her to keep up. Mila suddenly lost Rob’s hand as he quickly moved ahead. She shouted for him, drowned out by the noise of the truck.

  The disorder in the streets shocked her senses. Helicopters, panicked screams, voices blaring from intercoms above, roads blocked with motionless vehicles, and the methodical destruction of vehicles was unbelievable. It couldn’t have been happening. But it was.

  After a quarter mile, they reached Park Avenue, only to find two green military cargo trucks clearing the roads like snow plows. Anyone in the road soon discovered that the trucks were not stopping—no matter what. Commuters jumped out of the way and watched helplessly as their cars were crushed and swept along the road like debris.

  Rob looked north down Park Avenue. Platoons of armed soldiers walked behind the trucks, scanning the road. The Black Hawks continued to blare from overhead. With blocks to go, the odds seemed insurmountable, but they had no choice but to push on. “Everyone stay together,” Rob said.

  Kelly, close to tears, wrapped her arms around Mila. “I’m scared. Why are they doing this?” she cried.

  Mila was helpless to move with Kelly attached to her. Rob pulled Josh back as he tried to run ahead. “Wait,” he said.

  He went over to Mila and picked Kelly up, holding her in his arms against his chest. She was trembling and drenched with sweat.

  “All right,” Rob said to Mila and Josh. “Now we move. And don’t stop until we get to the car.”

  They moved forcibly through the crowds, trying to stay focused on their narrow path ahead, trying to ignore the impossibility of what was happening around them.

  Race to the Cabin

  After a long, exhausting journey, they finally neared the parking garage. Sirens wailed from every direction. Smoke and tear gas rose into the city skyline, toward the top of skyscrapers. New York City was a disaster, and the sooner they escaped, the better. The three-story parking garage offered temporary refuge. They were all exhausted and equally shaken—Rob’s arms strained from carrying his daughter, Josh in a state of shock, and Mila rendered nearly catatonic.

  “Guess we should have taken the subway,” Mila said in a dry tone.

  Rob’s laughter was uneasy. “Guess you’re right.”

  They had no clue if the subway was still operational or not. Metro stations from Manhattan to Queens had been swarmed with no way for them to enter. Sad as it seemed, they were safer above ground.

  Looting had begun along the way, in small doses, but apparent in nearly every storefront they encountered. The city looked to be in a full-scale riot. Smoke. Gun shots. Vandalism. Sirens. Helicopters circled above as trucks bulldozed through gridlocked traffic throughout all five boroughs.

  The Datsun looked untouched—a glistening jewel, covered in dust and debris. He pulled the keys from his pocket, confident that the car would start, but a little nervous anyway.

  “All right, everyone. In the car,” he said, unlocking his door.

  Josh stood back and scanned the car. “In this thing? Where’s the Kia?”

  Kelly and Mila were already inside, happy to be off their feet. Rob walked to Josh and pointed outside the parking garage to the
streets below. “You see what’s going on out there?”

  “I do. But I don’t understand it because you won’t tell me anything.”

  Rob gripped his shoulder. “I told you that I’ll explain everything once we get home.”

  Josh crossed his arms and huffed.

  “What is it?” Rob asked.

  He looked up, saddened. “My friends from school. I made fun of them for having to stay in the museum. I didn’t know…” His voice trailed off and he hung his head.

  “None of us could have seen this coming. But all that matters now is how prepared we are.”

  “Are we prepared?” Josh asked.

  Rob looked ahead. He could see smoke and fire rising from afar, deep in the city. “I believe we are, yes.” He then gently ushered Josh in the back seat. After he got in, Rob took a seat and took a deep breath. He stuck the key in and turned the ignition to the glorious sound of his internal combustion engine.

  He turned to Mila, exhaling in relief. “Thank God.”

  Mila unfolded the map, and looked at the route back. There was no way to avoid the highway, and she was certain things had gotten worse. “Just get us home safely,” she said.

  “I plan to,” Rob said, putting the car in reverse.

  Kelly was quiet, still shaken. Josh, on the other hand, fired off a litany of questions.

  “Is it like this back home, too?” “What shut the power off?” “Who were those guys dropping out of the helicopters?” “Why were those trucks pushing cars out of the way?”

  “It was an EMP,” Rob said, backing out and trying to answer one question at a time.

  Mila turned around to face Kelly. “Honey, are you all right?”

  Kelly nodded. She looked pale, possibly dehydrated. Mila quickly pulled some water bottles from under her seat and passed them around. Josh and Kelly gulped them down.

  “An EMP? You mean like that thing in Last Earth?” Josh asked. Last Earth was a popular science-fiction show from a few years ago that portrayed the effects of an aerial EMP over a small town. Josh and Rob had watched it all the time.