by Perrin Briar
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Details can be found at the end of CUT OFF.
CUT OFF
A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller Series
PART ONE
PERRIN BRIAR
1
REID
Reid lounged in his cubicle with his chair aimed directly at the window. He’d been staring at the outside world for the last thirty minutes. No one noticed, no one cared.
He couldn’t concentrate on his work. Even when he was at his most productive, the work seemed pointless. On his least productive days, it was a complete nightmare.
It was meant to be a great job, with good pay and nice benefits. He had achieved what most people had been studying their whole lives for. A “career.” Some of his friends bummed around, moving from one job to the next. If his parents had been alive to see his accomplishments, they would have been proud of him.
He’d done what every parent wanted their kid to do. And that was the problem.
It had never been what he wanted to do. Reid wasn’t a wimp. He would have stood up for himself and pursued his own dreams, except… He really didn’t know what he wanted to do. He was drifting, without aim or direction. He sensed things just weren’t right. Something was up with the world. Deep in his gut, Reid already knew it wasn’t going to get any better than this.
“Hey, Reid,” Jacob whispered from his identical cubicle.
“Huh?” Reid said, blinking from his daydream.
“You’ve been peering out this window all day, man,” Jacob said. “Todd will be making the rounds soon.”
“Screw Todd,” Reid said.
Todd was the boss. Unlike Reid, Todd had found his calling in life from an early age. He was in his line of work to pursue his only true passion: tormenting his fellow employees with pointless reports and so-called “metrics.” What that word meant, Reid hadn’t figured out yet. Not that he’d tried hard to.
“What is going on here?” Todd said, strutting into Reid’s line of sight, blocking his view of the outside world.
“Crap,” Jacob said, immediately returning to his desk and hammering furiously at one pointless project or another.
“Hey, Todd,” Reid said. He even managed a small smile.
So, today was to be the big day, Reid thought. He was too close to the precipice of despair to care about what might happen next. Quitting was an option. It was quick and clean, and he could head to the old farmhouse his father had left him after he’d died.
For a while now, Reid had wanted to go there and check on the place. He needed to tidy it up. The old house reportedly hadn’t been used in years. Reid was still halfheartedly playing with the idea of turned it into a homestead. The problem was, he really didn’t have a clue about how to do that. He’d grown up firmly in the suburbs, safely away from any real nature.
“I heard what you said,” Todd said, leaning into Reid’s face and supporting his hands on his knees.
“Is that so?” Reid said.
Here would come the explosion. Now was the time when Todd would display his big, powerful managerial colors for the entire office to see. He breathed in a big lungful of air, the vein on the side of his bulging neck preparing to burst.
Then the power cut out.
A deep silence filled the office.
“What on Earth was that?” Todd said, standing upright and peering around.
Reid turned in his chair to face his computer terminal. The screen was black. Dead. Reid pressed the power button. Nothing happened.
“Someone cut the power,” Todd said.
Reid peered around and noticed everyone else’s monitors were dead too. He picked up the desk phone and put it to his ear. No dial tone. He fished his phone out of his pocket. That screen was dark too.
“It’s not just the electricity that was cut,” Reid said.
“Someone’s going to pay for this,” Todd said. “Don’t they understand how much money we’ll lose because of this?”
Reid sat silent and still in his chair.
Was it really happening?
For two years he’d been thinking something like this might happen. Some form of EMP event. Reid didn’t grasp the details, but he understood that, under the right circumstances, solar flares from the sun could form electromagnetic pulses powerful enough to knock out most electronic devices on the planet Earth.
It was a large part of the angst he’d been feeling for a while now. He always knew something was up with the world. The infrastructure that had been put in place was too fragile. Everything relied on an extremely efficient shipping system. Worse, those shipping systems relied almost entirely on electronics that could all too easily be deactivated or disabled. There were literally millions of things that could lead to the kind of apocalyptic shutdown of modern society. Reid had spent days on the internet reading about each of them.
Of course, that didn’t exactly mean he was prepared for an event such as this.
But he was better equipped than most. At home, he kept a simple bug out backpack in case an event such as this reared its ugly head. Inside it, he kept a basic medical kit, a hunting knife, an axe, some antibiotics, and a few bits and pieces he’d gathered over the years. It wasn’t a complete kit, and now that the time had come when he might actually have need of it, he cursed himself for not having trusted his instincts and gone full-out badass on the concept.
Now was the time to take action.
The others in the office began to panic. They took out their cell phones and realized they didn’t work. Confusion dawned on their faces, stemming from the fact this wasn’t a simple power outage. The panic would be spreading everywhere, not only in St. Clements. They would attempt to drive home. The roads would be choked off with traffic.
Reid had a single goal on his mind. Get home, grab his gear, and escape to his old farmhouse. He’d be far from the chaos and panic that would inevitably ensue. That was when the accidents would happen.
Reid was taken aback by how calm he was, how fast his mind had developed a solution. This was his advantage. Everyone else would take days, perhaps even weeks, to come to his conclusion. And by then, it would be too late.
He stood up, causing his swivel chair to slam into his desk, making a loud noise.
As no machines were running, the room was deafeningly quiet, save for Todd’s angry mutterings. Everyone else cast their eyes around for help, scared, in their cubicles. They didn’t move, only whispering to one another.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Todd said.
“Home,” Reid said.
“Reid,” Jacob said, peering up at Reid from his chair. “Sit back down if you want to keep your job. He’s in a foul mood.”
“Good,” Reid said. “That’ll help him get through this.”
He ignored his colleagues’ confused expressions as he darted toward the exit. The corridor was silent. The overhead lights were off, and he had to rely on the natural light that streamed through the office windows to guide him.
Todd moved surprisingly swiftly considering his great girth. He blocked Reid’s way and stood before him. The exit was right behind him.
Reid could feel everyone’s eyes on his back.
One of the measures he’d started taking about a year ago when he’d begun to sense the great wrongness with the world, was carrying a few crucial items with him at all times. The first was his trusty, well-oiled pocket knife with thumb stud. The other was his reliable Glock 17. It sat invisible in the holster at the waist band of his pants. With his shirt un-tucked and covering it, no one had ever spotted it. It was thought to be too big to carry
daily by some, but Reid found it comforting. He liked the heft and shape of it. It gave him a great deal of confidence.
It helped that Reid often maintained a calm head. He wasn’t about to shoot his boss in the face for blocking his way. Todd wasn’t a threatening danger, only a nuisance. The real hazards would be waiting for him in the coming days and weeks, assuming the power wasn’t quickly restored before then. After all his reading and research, Reid was certain that wasn’t the case.
“Step aside, please,” Reid said in a low, calm voice. Still, it conveyed he meant business and would not be swayed.
“Walk through this door, and you’re fired,” Todd said.
He attempted to stand tall and puffed out his chest. He was a big man, but Reid wasn’t intimidated at all.
“Don’t you understand?” Reid said. “This isn’t only a power outage. Everything is off. Check your cell. This is it. The end of the modern world we’ve grown accustomed to.”
“You’re nuts,” Todd said.
He had the decency to sound a little scared.
“I’m telling you, Reid,” he said. “Step outside that door, and it’s the final straw. You’ve spent far too many days staring blankly out the window. One more black mark on your record and you’re finished. You can forget about any recommendation from me.”
Reid sighed and shook his head. Some people would either be slow in catching on, or not want to believe what was happening here. Reid would not let them stop him from doing what he knew he needed to do.
“Step aside now,” Reid said.
Todd looked from Reid to the other employees. So what if he lost one of his flock? He still had plenty of sheep to boss around. He bowed his head and stepped aside.
Reid was in good shape. Despite Todd’s girth, he wouldn’t have lasted long against Reid’s physical superiority. Not that he’d ever even consider fighting him. Fighting wasn’t part of the sophisticated modern world they’d built, certainly not in an office environment such as this. Arguments were fought with words, not fists. Right then, Todd’s managerial mind would be concentrating on potential lawsuits and additional demerits he could attach to Reid’s file.
Reid stepped from the office. He knew it would be for the last time.
The door slammed shut behind him. It was a thunderbolt in the deafening silence.
He was in the stairwell. The lights were, of course, off. He’d need to get a good flashlight when he had the time.
He took a single careful step toward the top step and paused. He shut his eyes. There was no difference. That was how dark it was.
There, in the pitch darkness of the company stairwell, the reality of the situation suddenly struck him. His heart pounded in his chest. The anxiety smacked him like a breaching wave. His pulse soared, his skin clammy and cold to the touch.
He’d been in control in the office. He’d been roughly planning this day for years, or at least foreseeing the possibility. He had important gear at home, possessed a plan. Most people wouldn’t even have that much. He also had enough food to last over a month.
Suddenly, none of it felt like it was enough.
He was alone in all the world. The dark staircase cloaked in silence only reinforced that concept.
Was he really in a better situation than everyone else? Or would he slip into the same trap as them? Letting himself die a slow, painful death in total hunger? Or perhaps something even worse? After all, he still had no concept of what the fallout from all this might be.
Reid reached into his pocket for his LED flashlight. He hoped it hadn’t been adversely affected by the EMP. His hand was trembling. He couldn’t even slip it in the pocket of his jeans.
Crap. That was all he could think. Crap. His mind was trapped in an infinite loop of panic.
Crap.
2
Michelle
Michell had pulled a sickie at work. She’d woken up early enough to call in and performed her best impression of a sore throat.
“I can come in,” she said between bouts of hoarse coughs. “If you really need me. But I think I’m contagious. You don’t want to see the state of the toilet.”
“Okay, okay,” her boss said. “No need for extraneous details. Come in tomorrow if you feel better. Make sure to let me know how you’re doing. I’ll get Rhonda to cover your shift for you—”
“That’s great, thanks,” Michelle said, hanging up.
She let out a nice big sigh and let her head rest back on the pillow. She surfed semi-conscious dreams, where nothing happened, save time rushing headlong into the day.
At noon, she awoke again, brain pounding against her skull for torturing it with all the beers she’d had the previous night. She smacked her lamp from the nightstand as she climbed from bed. Then she kicked a mysterious glass of water that had been placed on the floor.
She stumbled into the bathroom and flicked on the light switch. Nothing happened. She peered up at the lightbulb. Damn thing must have blown. She pulled open the blinds to let in a little natural light. She located the aspirin bottle in the medicine cabinet.
She emptied out a few and swallowed them, not bothering to count. She used a glass of water that had been sitting there for over a week to wash them down.
She staggered into the kitchen and flipped the light switch. Again, no lights. She cursed. The power must be out. Did she pay the bill? Maybe. She wasn’t sure. She thought she had. She shook her head.
The last time the power had gone out, she was with Joseph, her boyfriend of five long years. She grimaced at the memory of them both hiding beneath a blanket playing a game of cards with a flashlight.
The memories were still painful and fresh. That was the reason she’d been out drinking last night with friends. They’d pledged to take her out on a night she would never forget to push all those problems out the door. It hadn’t really worked that way, as it so rarely did, in her experience. The only thing she could really recall was crying her heart out at the end of the night in someone’s arms, drunkenly weeping about Joseph. But he was long gone, somewhere in California with his brand spanking new girlfriend.
She had to contend with her headache, her breakup, the power outage, as well as the crappy job she was hardly holding onto with her fingernails. Still, Michelle was a woman of vast internal resources. She vowed to turn her life around. Beginning today.
She cast an eye around her apartment. It was a complete disaster. Usually she was very thorough with cleaning, but now it looked like a squatter resided there. Stacks of ice cream tubs sat on the coffee table. Dirty dishes were piled up in the sink, spilling across the countertops.
Michelle prepared a fresh pot of coffee and only remembered the power was out when she pressed the “on” button.
There was a knock on the door, insistent and loud.
“Who’s there?” Michelle said, winding her way through the mess. “Hello?”
She peered through the peephole.
“Mrs. Cairns,” the figure on the other side of the frosted glass said.
Mrs. Cairns was a retiree who lived on the same floor as Michelle. There were just the three of them. Michelle, Mrs. Cairns, and a single man called Reid. Michelle hadn’t exchanged more than a few words with him over the years. He always seemed so wrapped up in himself, too distracted for her to enjoy a friendly conversation with.
Michelle groaned. She really didn’t need to deal with Mrs. Cairns right then. She was a nice old lady most of the time, but she was certainly not the type anyone wanted to have to deal with while they were still hung over. Mrs. Cairns preferred the indirect method of confrontation, which meant she would want Michelle to be the one who had to contact the landlord about the power or any other problem she might have.
Michelle paused before she opened the door. She focused on fixing a smile on her face. Then she recalled the time. It was noon. She shouldn’t have been at home at this time, much less with a dopey look on her face from having just woken up. She thought she’d called work, pretending she w
as sick, so she put a “sick” expression on her face before pulling the door open.
“Mrs. Cairns,” she said, eyes half-lidded and voice scratchy. She thought she put on a good show.
“Why are you here, dear?” Mrs. Cairns said. “Did you lose your power too? Why aren’t you at work?”
Michelle felt overpowered by the prying questions and wished she’d just pretended she wasn’t at home. Why hadn’t she thought of that? It wasn’t as if the lights or TV had been on.
“I don’t have any power either,” Michelle said. “I’m sick.”
That ought to explain her appearance.
“Can I come in for a moment, dear?” Mrs. Cairns said in the tone of voice that suggested there was no denying her entry.
“Uh,” Michelle said. “It’s a bit messy at the moment.”
“My back is sore and my stick is in my apartment,” Mrs. Cairns said.
Michelle sighed inwardly and stepped aside to let Mrs. Cairns in.
“My Goodness!” Mrs. Cairns said, hands around her mouth.
“I warned you,” Michelle said. “Sorry about the mess. It’s been a rough week.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Cairns said. “I heard about Joseph.”
That made Mrs. Cairns blink. Did the whole building know everything about her personal business? Michelle wondered how much they really knew. Did they know she’d caught Joseph cheating on her? That he had a bit on the side in California? Did they hear the argument that never ended with a satisfying conclusion? That Michelle wasn’t sure if she had broken up with Joseph, or if he had broken up with her? Had she kicked him out? Or had he simply left?
Mrs. Cairns sat down with Michelle on the couch. Michelle shifted her laptop and magazines. They’d been Joseph’s magazines and she’d torn them to pieces after a particularly bad fit of depression and anger.
“I was going to call the landlord,” Michelle said, predicting Mrs. Cairns’ next question.