Zero Hour: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction Series (The Blackout Series Book 2)

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Zero Hour: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction Series (The Blackout Series Book 2) Page 5

by Bobby Akart


  They tried not to second-guess their decision, but loyalty to a country that had provided the two dedicated Marines so much tore at their hearts. Their decision was clouded by emotion. Now, their view of San Diego to the east and Tijuana, Mexico, to their south was disappearing into early nightfall.

  Their view across San Diego Bay was spectacular as the sun was setting. Looking to the west across the massive Pacific Ocean, the scene was picture perfect, something only God could’ve created. The question in their mind was similar to millions of others: How could something so beautiful take away life as we knew it?

  This was just one of many questions the couple would ask themselves as the mood on the beach suddenly changed. The joyous laughter turned to shouts of alarm. In the dimming daylight, the beach partyers could be seen scrambling for higher ground. They were fleeing something.

  The collision of the ISS and the Tiandong-1 screamed through Earth’s atmosphere at nearly forty thousand miles per hour. When the large, dense hunk of molten metal struck the Pacific Ocean twelve hundred miles to their west, the impact was equivalent to two thousand kilotons of TNT, one hundred times more powerful than the atomic bomb detonated at Hiroshima.

  When the asteroid-sized wreckage hit the water, the blast created a crater in the ocean. The displaced water piled up around this crater and formed a ring. As this ring moved out and away from the center of the impact point, the water began to oscillate up and down, forming ringlets that spread outward from the crater. The series of loops and crimps in the water created a tsunami wave train.

  Initially, the ringlets produced by the impact were twenty feet high. Fifty miles later, the tsunami wave train doubled in height. Two hundred miles later, it doubled again as it spread in all directions across the Pacific.

  Shouts of help, run, and hurry filled the air. That was when the couple saw the reason for the panic. The ocean was rising. At first, the beaches of the shoreline below slowly disappeared. Lopez and Herrera held hands as they looked up and down the pristine coast, which was gradually swallowed by the sea.

  The Marines didn’t panic because they were over four hundred feet above the beach. But the ocean rose, and their concerns grew with the rising waters.

  The tsunami wave train didn’t take the lives of Eddie and Maria that night. The waves lapped up just twenty feet from where they stood at the top of Point Loma. However, the rest of the four-hundred-foot-tall wall of water stretched inland across Mexico and into parts of Arizona. It consumed the entire Southern California region from San Diego to Los Angeles and washed away nearly twenty million people when the water finally receded back into the Pacific twenty hours later.

  Chapter 9

  DAY TWO

  10:00 a.m., September 10

  Ryman Residence

  Belle Meade, Tennessee

  The euphoria of Colton’s return began to disappear, and reality set in for Madison. Now that he was home, she would try to revert to her preferred role as wife and mom. By the second day, their routines were being established. Colton functioned very well on half a dozen hours of sleep. At sunrise, he’d find his way to bed, where he would wake Madison, who was typically an early riser. Alex tried to adopt the sleeping patterns of a typical teenager during their summer break from school. Working her into a routine might prove difficult.

  Madison finished cleaning the pool while she tended to the eggs and bacon. After taking an inventory of their refrigerated items, Madison set up a menu that would last through day four. The meals would be a hodgepodge of frozen dinners and leftovers, but her family would maintain some semblance of nutrition and energy. As their meals turned to the more mundane—beans, rice, and oatmeal—Madison would incorporate the vitamins and nutritional supplements into their daily meal plan.

  They made the decision to keep the generator under wraps to avoid drawing attention. Colton wasn’t sure how to mask the sound. Running the machine inside the house or even the garage, which was attached to the house through the bonus room, could prove deadly. Noxious carbon monoxide fumes would quickly overtake the stale air inside. Ultimately, the pool house was deemed their only option.

  Madison used their newly acquired Camp Chef modular cooking system that operated on the propane tanks she’d purchased. It burned clean and didn’t make any noise. At sixty thousand BTUs, it was very fuel efficient as well. She estimated the available propane she purchased would cook ten days of meals. Propane was high on her wish list, which she’d started after last night’s foray into the O’Malleys’ backyard and the construction site.

  Colton and Alex had run back and forth, finding useful items, sneaking them home, and with each trip, asking Madison to make a note of this or that. With the world at a standstill, a simple item like a garden tool or a box of nails became highly sought after items if you didn’t have them already. Madison took on the role of inventory specialist, cataloging the items they had and also high-value items to target. From a safety perspective, she agreed with Colton they had a limited window of opportunity to make these runs. With each passing day, the night would become more dangerous.

  “Any luck?” Madison asked Alex as she entered the living room. Alex was assigned the duty of monitoring the radio.

  “Yes, actually, there is something,” she replied as she took the plate of eggs and bacon. “Wow, thanks, Mom.”

  “You’re welcome, dear. Enjoy these while you can. It may be a while before we see eggs again.”

  Alex set the radio on the coffee table and turned up the volume to the emergency broadcast she found on a ham radio frequency. The broadcast was a continuous loop recording, but the information provided grabbed Madison’s attention. She joined her daughter and listened.

  Following a long beep, the broadcast began its two-minute loop. “We interrupt our programming. Important instructions will follow. Again, this is a National Alert issued by the Department of Homeland Security. The President of the United States has declared a national state of emergency. The text of this declaration can be found posted at local federal buildings and military facilities.

  “Effective immediately, until ended by a presidential decree, the President has declared the following to be in effect. A curfew has been established until further notice. All citizens are required to remain in their homes during the evening hours. During daytime hours, citizens are encouraged to shelter in place.

  “Local law enforcement and the National Guard, in conjunction with the Federal Emergency Management Agency, will be establishing shelters for those displaced from their homes or who are in need of special assistance. Food and water distribution centers will be announced in the coming days. You are encouraged to utilize these services as a last resort only.

  “In furtherance of these directives, the President has instructed the National Guard and local law enforcement to break up any unlawful assemblies and confiscate weapons, magazines, and ammunition, such actions determined to be in the best interests of the nation and the safety, health, and general welfare of its citizens.

  “Willful violations of the provisions of the President’s declaration shall be punishable by imprisonment and asset forfeiture. All American citizens will now fall under the jurisdiction of military tribunals established by this declaration.

  The electronic beeping indicated the end of the broadcast and the beginning of the next loop. Alex turned the radio off and set her plate on the table. Madison stared at the radio for a moment. She was glad to hear something, although it was not what she expected. Rather than telling them it was going to be okay and that our government is there for you, Madison felt like she was being told to remain under house arrest and instantly felt depressed.

  “Whadya think, Mom?” asked Alex, breaking Madison out of her trance.

  “I don’t know what to think, Alex,” replied Madison. “I guess, I mean, I kinda hoped to hear something was being done about the power. Instead, I feel like a prisoner in my home.”

  Colton rounded the stairs and joined them. “I heard t
he announcement upstairs. One thing is certain, the government will attempt a response, but they will be overwhelmed and will experience mass defections of their personnel. As society deteriorates, police and National Guardsmen will opt to protect their families rather than fight the looters and thugs in the streets.”

  “Who’ll enforce the law, Daddy?” asked Alex.

  “I’m afraid, at least for a while, our nation will have to experience life without the rule of law,” replied Colton. He sat in the chair by the fireplace and laced up his tennis shoes. “We’ll have to protect ourselves. The laws will still exist, but the process of enforcement and administration will disappear. Our previously publicized and stable laws will no longer act as a deterrent to those using the collapse of the power grid as an opportunity to do bad things.”

  “What’s a military tribunal?” asked Alex.

  “The executive branch and the military are probably the only functioning parts of our government right now,” replied Colton. “If the police or National Guard arrest somebody, they will be brought before a military court to face justice. What that entails is anybody’s guess. Before the collapse, the rule of law governed our nation, as opposed to being governed by arbitrary decisions of government officials. Now, I’m afraid the government will make up the rules as they go.”

  Madison pointed to the shotgun propped next to Colton by the fireplace. “We only have one gun. Are we giving it up?”

  “Not a chance.” Colton laughed, picking up the weapon and weighing it in his hands. “Nor will the owners of the other three hundred million weapons in the United States.”

  “Didn’t they do it in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina?” asked Madison.

  “Yes, and it turned out to be a disaster,” replied Colton. “They beat up an old lady. They shot another man’s dogs. It was a public relations nightmare because the police focused on easy targets—law-abiding citizens. The gun confiscations did nothing to deter the criminals who roamed the French Quarter.”

  “Should we hide the shotgun?” asked Madison.

  “Nope. I’ll take my chances with the gun-confiscation directive. I won’t take my chances with protecting you guys against the evildoers of the world.”

  Madison stood and retrieved the radio from the coffee table. Alex tried to stop her. “I want to listen some more, Mom.”

  “I know you do, Alex,” started Madison, who picked it up anyway. “You and I have to cut and staple the landscape fabric to the windows so your dad can nail the boards up today. Besides, when we’re not using the electronics, we should keep them stored away in the Faraday cages.”

  “Why? The storm has already passed,” protested Alex.

  “I remember the picture of the hole in the Sun you showed me. It looked like it had a few more solar flares in its belly ready to fire at us.” Madison tucked the radio away and sealed the lid with the handle of the galvanized trash can. As the lid snapped shut, someone pounded on their front door, startling all of them.

  Chapter 10

  DAY TWO

  11:00 a.m., September 10

  Ryman Residence

  Belle Meade, Tennessee

  “Who is it?” shouted Colton through the door as he held the shotgun nervously. There was no answer. He repeated his question, only louder this time. “Who’s out there?”

  Still no answer. He turned to Madison and Alex, gesturing for them to look out the back door and the kitchen side door. They ran at a low crouch and reached their appointed doors. The sound of clicking dead bolts reminded Colton they weren’t following their protocols for keeping entryways locked.

  He moved to the living room and peered through the curtains. There wasn’t anyone there. Rather than opening the front door to a possible ambush, he left through the kitchen door and moved along the outside wall of the house. Many things went through his mind. Am I prepared to shoot someone? How does this gun work?

  He immediately chastised himself for not learning the basics of the operation of the Remington shotgun. He took a deep breath and channeled a character on The Walking Dead television show. He pumped the fore-end, which generated a loud, metallic sound. CLACK—CLACK. That would scare me away, he thought to himself.

  Colton, the adrenaline pumping through his body, steadied his nerves to confront the intruder and swung into view. Nobody was there. He pointed the gun in all directions, swinging it towards the garage and back to the front door. Nothing. He relaxed and approached the porch, where a rock was placed on top of a handwritten piece of copy paper.

  “Colton?” yelled Madison through the window.

  “It’s okay,” he announced. “You can open the front door.”

  Madison slowly opened the door, and the girls cautiously peeked out.

  “Seriously, y’all,” said Colton. “It’s safe. We’ve got mail.”

  Madison and Alex joined him, nervously looking around the yard. Colton read the note aloud.

  “The Harding Place Association of neighbors will be meeting today at noon at the Brileys’ former residence located at Trimble and Lynnwood. We encourage everyone to participate as we discuss the power situation. It’s signed Shane Wren, President of the HPA.”

  Colton handed it to Madison, who read it to herself under Alex’s probing eyes. He glanced at the cheap Timex watch he’d purchased at T Ricks. They had an hour.

  “Where is the smoke coming from?” asked Alex, as she looked up at the black smoke clouds drifting overhead. She instinctively covered her mouth.

  “I noticed it this morning as I did my final walk around the house,” replied Colton. “It seems to be coming from the west toward Highway 100.”

  “It stinks.”

  “Come on, guys, let’s get back inside and talk about this meeting,” said Colton, leading them into the foyer and locking the door behind them. He took the notice from Madison and examined it again.

  “Should we go?” asked Madison.

  “You know, just like before the solar flare, I’d rather avoid these things like the plague,” said Colton. “I guess, under the circumstances, we should check it out, if for no other reason than to learn what they’re up to. After the other night, I’ve got no use for Shane Wren and the rest of his cronies.”

  “You should go,” said Madison.

  “Me too,” chimed in Alex.

  “I don’t really think this will be appropriate for—” started Madison before Colton interrupted her.

  “It’ll be fine, Maddie, and instructive. Alex can see how these types of meetings are conducted. Also, another set of eyes and ears will help.”

  “Yeah,” said Alex as she ran to find her shoes.

  When she returned, she kissed her Mom on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom. I really want to help, but I also need to get out of the house. I’m getting cabin fever.”

  “Good grief.” Madison laughed. “After one day. Are you guys leaving already?”

  “Yeah,” started Colton. “I wanna check on Mrs. Abercrombie, and then I might pick up the Youngs and Kaplans on the way to the meeting. I love you.” Colton kissed Madison on the cheek. He and Alex were off on their father-daughter afternoon. The usual afternoon of golf together was replaced with checking on neighbors and neighborhood association meetings.

  Colton and Alex spent about five minutes knocking on Mrs. Abercrombie’s doors and walking around her home. She never answered. The doors were locked, and there were no signs of a break-in.

  “This is weird, Daddy,” said Alex. “Mom and I saw Mrs. Abercrombie getting her mail tw days ago. Surely she didn’t go anywhere, right?”

  “I don’t see her car, and everything else seems to be okay,” replied Colton. “Maybe she got spooked by the news and went over to a friend’s home for safety.”

  Alex shrugged and led the way to the Youngs’ front door. Nobody was home, but their note, if they received one, was missing. As they walked back across their front yard towards the Kaplans, the smell of smoke became more intense as the hot winds picked up.

 
; “Daddy, it hasn’t rained in a week, at least,” started Alex. “I remember because our match got rained out.”

  “It’s a bad situation,” said Colton. “I’m sure other transformers exploded Thursday night. Those fireballs could have gone throughout the city, catching houses and trees on fire. With no firefighting equipment available and no water being pumped, the fires will burn uncontrolled until it rains.”

  “Hey, Colton!” shouted Rusty Kaplan from his driveway. “Did you hear about the meeting?”

  “Yeah,” replied Colton. “Do you guys wanna go with us?”

  “Sounds good,” replied Karen Kaplan.

  The four began walking up the hill towards the Brileys’ home. One of their neighbors was the listing agent on the vacant house and apparently made it available to Wren for the meeting. They walked slowly as Karen and Rusty became winded on the fairly steep incline of Lynnwood Boulevard.

  “What do you expect from this meeting?” asked Rusty, now out of breath.

  “I guess it makes sense to establish a system of community leadership,” started Colton. “Assuming this situation is going to go on for a while, our neighbors in need could benefit from somebody looking out for them.”

  “What do you think about Shane?” asked Karen.

  “No comment.” Colton laughed. The Kaplans had puzzled looks on their faces. Colton realized they didn’t understand, and he cautioned himself against expressing his opinion like that in the future. Words were amplified now and could easily become misconstrued. “Well, Shane is a professor of political science. He should have an idea how groups and governments are formed. I’m hoping for the best.”

  They reached the top of the hill and the street leveled out. Several people were making their way towards the Briley residence.

 

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