The World's End Series Book One: Dymond's World

by CW Crowe

  He looked at her with alarm on his face. "Is it as bad as that?"

  "I think it will be."

  He nodded and rose to leave. As he did, he coughed. "Thank you, ma'am. I guess I'll do just what you suggest."

  It was time for her to go home and watch the kids.

  Victor had to go get Samantha.

  ***

  Victor finished feeding the kids their breakfast and sent them outside to play. Now that he was alone, he could admit he was angry. He was angry at Mary for driving to St. Patrick's last night. He told her that they didn't know what condition the roads were in, but she got that stubborn look on her face and there was no stopping her. He'd talked to her on their little portable two meter radios until she was out of range - which was less than halfway to Missoula. She told him that there were a few disabled cars on the side of the road, but she saw a couple of cops that still had working cars and so she felt confident she could get into the hospital. He hadn't heard from her after that and the worry just added to his anger.

  He kept the two meter radio on their frequency hoping that she'd check in as she got closer to home. It was silent, but he did hear a steady stream of reports from CB and ham radio operators on his AOR with the long wire antenna. It was identical to the one up in the bug out house. Route 93 seemed to be perfectly passable all the way to Missoula.

  The damage done by the EMP appeared to be classic. Everything big - the power grid, cell phone towers, computer networks - all that was toast. With smaller stuff, the damage was less certain. Some cars were working; electronic watches, phones and other small stuff might or might not be affected - though without cell towers the phones were useless as communications devices. It depended on exactly where the items were during the blast - how they were oriented and what might have been shielding them.

  Victor had his house and garage built with metal roofs, so his electronics items were protected, but his power was off like everyone else. He had a generator, both here and at the bug out place, but he hadn't turned them on yet.

  So he was angry because he was worried about Mary and his anger only intensified as he thought of his trip to get Samantha. The University of Montana was right in Missoula and was a perfectly adequate school. But no, Samantha had to go to Washington State. He'd warned her this could happen. He could hear her now, "Just chill, Vic. I'll be fine. But regardless, I'm not going to stop living my life because of what might happen. I want to be on my own - to see what I can do without you and Mary or anyone following me around and watching to make sure I don't make any mistakes. I WANT to make mistakes. I want to live, Vic, and I want to do it on my own - just me."

  Mary took her side, of course, so now she was two hundred fifty miles away. He pictured her in her dorm room, her bug out bag ready. He'd insisted she keep it with her. It held a two meter radio so they could talk when he got nearby. It also held food - and a pistol.

  Samantha knew he was coming for her. She would have no doubt of that.

  ***

  The radio finally sprung to life. "Vic, copy?"

  It was Mary. Victor felt his head swim in relief. "Copy, hon. How are conditions?"

  "Roads are clear right now. Not much traffic at all. People are just waiting, I think. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

  "Roger. I'm ready when you get here."

  He didn't use any call signs or give any indication of where they were or that he was about to leave. You never knew who could was listening. Not identifying yourself was a cardinal sin in the ham radio world, but that world no longer existed.

  He looked at the kids to make sure they were playing and not fighting, and then he pressed the buttons on the AOR that caused it to scan for AM broadcast stations. He'd been doing this every hour, hoping some would come back online.

  At 9 a.m., he hit pay dirt. The signal was weak, but it was there.

  "This is station KZOT. We are located in the Bozeman, Montana area. My name is Emril Perkins. I'm a maintenance man, not a broadcaster, but our regular people are back at the station, so I guess I'll have to do.

  "What I'm going to report is based on a few things. First, I can tell you what I've seen. Next, I can tell you what other local folks have driven out to tell me, and third, I can report some things I've heard on my ham radio. I had a portable model in my truck and, amazingly, it still works.

  "Okay, let's get started. Last night at around 11 p.m., the power went out. You know that already. I can confirm that's its out just about everywhere. I heard hams from several parts of the country who are running on generator or battery power - everything is out.

  "Now this is speculation - but most of them believe that the cause was an EMP event. That stands for electromagnetic pulse. The government has worked on such things for years and we can guess the Russians and Chinese have too. It's basically a nuclear bomb that is detonated way up in the space - as much as two hundred miles up. It explodes; but at that height, the explosion itself doesn't do any direct damage. However, this electromagnetic pulse travels down to earth and goes into wires and basically just fries everything.

  "So, as of now, we have no power. Phone services are totally down too, as is the Internet. The roads are, however, in reasonably good shape, at least around here. I've had reports of some accidents, but not all cars were damaged by the pulse. Some that were being driven just cut off, but on some it didn't seem to have any affect. It looks like most of the people who were driving cars that stopped running were able to limp off the roadway safely.

  "I had a person come by who was traveling from Boise. He said a cop told him that the Governor had called out the National Guard. I expect that'll be happening in all the states. I think we'll need them because, without power, we can't really get food where it's needed in large quantities. So until they arrive, we need to share what we have.

  "One ham I heard was outside of St. Louis. He said there was heavy smoke coming from the city and there were a large number of vehicles leaving it. Another reported that a plane had crashed on the edge of his property. He thought it looked like a big passenger plane, but he wasn't totally sure - it was torn to bits by the crash."

  While he listened, Victor checked his bug out bag. It was in order. He packed some extra ammo for the pistol inside. He already had several hundred rounds for the rifle and shotgun that were under the seat in his truck.

  "That's about all I know about what's happening in the country. Locally, the police chief says everyone appears to be calm and that we need to work together and share what we have. We might have to live for a week or even two without power, so we should be prepared for that. That's all I have for now. I'll come back on the air at noon for another report."

  Just then, Victor saw Mary pull into the driveway. The two kids ran and leapt into her arms. He could hear Zoe's almost supersonic squeal of glee from inside the house. Mary walked to the door, a child holding each hand.

  When she got inside, she dropped her coat on the floor and hugged Vic. She felt good. "How was it last night?" he asked.

  "The docs had a couple of babies being born and three heart attacks. I had a few cuts and scrapes. Two people were burned trying to cook outside. One guy almost burned down his house." She paused, remembering. "And there were two suicides - one overdose and one gunshot, both older people."

  He nodded his understanding, "You look tired."

  "I am, Vic. It was strange. We prepared for this for so long, and now that it's happened, things aren't really all that different. I still went to the hospital, and people are actually pretty calm." She kissed him gently, "It won't last, will it?"

  "Not for long. As soon as the shelves start to empty at Good Food, things will change."

  ***

  The truck was loaded; the tank full, including the axillary tank in the back. The forty nine gallons of diesel fuel would take him over six hundred fifty miles - a hundred fifty more than he needed. It was cutting things a bit close, but he had no choice. Vic regretted not welding on a bigger axillary tank.
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  Zack and Zoe stood together, facing him. "Can I go, Daddy?" she said.

  Her voice was so sweet, so full of innocence. Vic felt his heart break with sadness at the world she would grow up in.

  "No, Sweetie, not this time. I need for you and Zack to go with Mommy up to the cabin. I won't be gone long. You do just what she says, okay?"

  "I will Daddy," she said as her lip trembled. She always hated for her Daddy to leave her.

  "Zack, you help Mom, understand?"

  Zack was only ten, but Vic knew he would do what Mary asked to the best of his ability. The boy was always saying he wanted to be like his Dad - he wanted to be a Ranger. To him, that meant he would be strong and capable. "I'll be a Ranger, Dad. You can count on me."

  He walked to door of the Dodge Ram. Mary called out, "You bring her home, Vic. Bring her home."

  Breaking Up is Hard to Do

  Even with the power out, Fallon knew he had to go to work. As he drove, he realized he hadn't seen any sign of God for quite a while. He hadn't missed Him, with his laughing and pointing and rolling around enjoying Fallon's bad luck and poor choices. When was the last time? He thought it was probably the day that Dymond moved in with him.

  It was hard at first. His Airstream was fine for him alone, or even for a weekend getaway for a couple, but it was just too small for two people to live in comfortably. On top of that, it rained for several days after they returned from delivering that car, so they were cooped up and got on each other’s nerves - and sleeping by himself on that little couch with her so close was uncomfortable. He remembered dreaming of his ex-wife and waking with a terrific hard-on. He'd never dreamed of her before except in nightmares.

  Something had to give. When the weather broke, they walked together to the lake to fish. It felt good to be outside; the late summer air had started to cool and the blue sky and water, surrounded by the still green trees, made a scene that was picture postcard perfect. They were alone in the park.

  He didn't wait. "Dy, what do you want to do? I think you need to decide."

  She studied him intently. He'd only known her for a few days, but he could tell that she was deciding if this was his way of telling her it was time to move on. Fallon didn't want that at all, but something had to give. He reached for her hand.

  She smiled in understanding. She knew she wasn't being asked to leave.

  "I thought about it, Mister. I thought about it a lot. I like your home, but . . . you know . . . it's a little tight."

  Fallon laughed. It had been a while since he really laughed and it felt good. Dy was trying to spare his feelings. "It's more than a bit tight, Dy. It's totally claustrophobic."

  Fallon remembered how she she'd laughed along with him, her normally serious expression abandoned for the moment.

  "I think we need a bigger place - an apartment."

  His mood went from warm to cold in an instant. "I can't afford that, Dy. You know I can't."

  She was quiet, like she was trying to decide what to say. She took off her sandals and wiggled her toes in a little patch of sand beside the rocks. "Well, we could get some money. You could . . . you could trick me out and then we'd . . ."

  He didn't let her finish. "No! No, Dy. Just no! If you want to go back to that life, it'll have to be without me. I won't watch you do that. I just won't."

  She didn't seem surprised at his reaction, but she was curious. "Why, Mister? Most of the time I don't even know the john's name and can't remember what they looked like an hour later. It's just like any other job - you do it so you can get on with life. It doesn't mean anything."

  He squeezed her hand and spoke, his voice suddenly soft, "It would mean something to me, Dy."

  She turned to him and smiled her brightest smile. She reached up and kissed him on the lips - gently. It was their first time.

  "Thank you," she said. They sat in silence, looking at the water. The pole bobbed, but neither of them reached for it.

  "Do you think I could get a job? I mean a real job - like in a factory or something? And I think you'll get that one down at the Seven Eleven. With that and with your car delivering job, we could afford it. I worked it out - it would be a little tight at first, but I could maybe get a second job and then things would be fine."

  Fallon was shocked. She had obviously been thinking this through - calculating their expenses and their income. That was surprising enough, but what was positively shocking was how her plans were to stay with him.

  Later, they talked and ate and talked some more. She was right - with a little luck it could work.

  But good luck had been in short supply for him for many years. He looked up, expecting to see God smirking at the very idea that Fallon could improve his life. But there was nothing there.

  ***

  As he approached the entrance to the strip center, he saw a lady cop directing traffic below a non-working light. There wasn't much traffic to direct, just Fallon and an old man driving a new Buick in the lane to his right. The cop held up her arm to stop them and made a motion for them to roll down their windows.

  She shouted, "Curfew Tonight starting at seven. Be off the streets by then." Fallon had tried the radio on the way in, but couldn't pick up any news. The blackout must be a pretty big one.

  He couldn't remember a curfew being put into place for a power outage. Just then, the old man to his right gunned the Buick and went by the cop, missing her by inches. He yelled out the window, "Fuck you!"

  The cop reached for her radio, but it must not have been working because she changed her mind. She looked at Fallon with her hand on the handle of her sidearm, "What the fuck are you looking at? Get the hell out of here."

  He did as he was told.

  ***

  With no power, the odds of being able to open the dollar store for business were not good, but as Assistant Manager, Fallon knew he needed to be there in case the power returned and their registers started to work, spitting out credit card authorizations for sales.

  He remembered how his streak of good luck had continued that night and into the next day after he and Dy talked about the future. Early the next morning, Patti called him and offered him his old job back - with even more hours if he wanted them. "Fucking Janet got knocked up, so she quit. She's been here a long time and I've never seen any men sniffing around her - must have met a really hard up guy."

  He remembered that call so well; he'd answered the phone while he was holding Dy in his lap; she was naked and was rubbing herself against him.

  "So you got your job back if you want it. I'd advise you to pass, but it's up to you."

  "Ah . . . I'll take it, Patti." Dy grinned and started to stroke him, so it was hard to think.

  "Ok, Fallon, but remember I warned you. Get your ass in here by ten tomorrow or I'll fucking fire you all over again." With that she hung up and he turned his attention back to Dy.

  ***

  He was surprised to see Patti's car in the lot. She was closing today and wasn't due in until one. Maybe some fuckwad from District was coming by for a surprise inspection or something. He let himself in the door, the mechanical bell announcing his presence.

  She wasn't out front, so he went to the back room. This was the room where she'd originally hired him over three years ago and it was the one where she fired him. She’d promoted him to Assistant Manager six months ago out on the floor with the store full of customers. She announced it to everyone and they applauded.

  Fallon found her at the little card table she called her desk. She was sitting on a large carton of creamed corn. They'd had chairs, but they broke and the company wouldn't replace them.

  Something was wrong. The expression on her face was normally sour, but her eyes usually glinted as if she understood it was all some kind of joke. Today, as she looked up at him, her eyes were red. He'd never seen her cry except for that one time when she fired him.

  He sat beside her and took her hand. He remembered doing the same thing with Dy. "What's wrong, Patti?"
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  She sniffed and reached into her purse and pulled out a small pack of tissues. They were the same brand they sold in the store. She wiped her eyes. "It's my fucking husband. I’m done with him for good. It was this morning. I told him to pack and get out and I just got up and left. I can't stand it anymore."

  He knew she and her husband had more than their share of problems. She said for a man with such a small dick, he was the biggest prick she'd ever met.

  Fallon didn't know what to say. He remembered how it was with his own ex and how they were probably both relieved to never have to see each other again. He said what he felt, "I know it hurts, Patti. But it's also probably for the best."

  She wiped her eyes again and looked at her hand. She seemed surprised to see his holding hers. She squeezed. "I can see how you got that child bride of yours. Sometimes you say just the right thing." She burst into fresh tears and embraced him.

  ***

  At opening time, there were no customers in sight. "I hope the fucking power stays off all day. I'm going to close this fucker at noon if it's not on by then. I hate to ask you this, but would you go back to my place with me? Just to make sure he's gone?"

  Fallon's first thought was of Dy. He knew that she would walk to her job at Chick-fil-A a bit before ten and, as a shift supervisor, she had to work until five. At least that was the plan - if the power didn't come back on, all bets were off.

  But Fallon wasn't worried. Their apartment was less than a half mile from the restaurant. Dy would walk back home on her own if they didn't need her. "Ah . . . sure Patti, but what if . . ."

  "What if the bastard is still there? I'll call the police and I'll throw his shit out on the curb; him too." The crying was over. She had up a head of steam.

  ***

  At noon, Patti turned around the sign that said, "Closed, But We'll Be Back Soon!" and locked the doors. That morning, even with no power and no lights, they'd had four customers. Two they had to turn away because they wanted to use a credit card. The other two gave Patti cash - one guy bought two cases of creamed corn, the last they had. They would have to find another chair for their office. Patti tried calling home to see if anyone answered, but the phones didn't work.