EMP 1500 MILES FROM HOME

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EMP 1500 MILES FROM HOME Page 11

by Mike Whitworth


  Driver said when he passed through the town was peaceful. That was two days ago. We were, as best I could estimate, within two miles of Mountainair right now. I thought it best to stop for the night and then enter Mountainair as early the next morning as possible. We had to be alert and ready. Things could change a lot in three days.

  Julie's dad's ranch was on the other side of Mountainair, so we either had to go through town, or go around it. We decided to see if we could pass through peacefully based on what Driver told us. I thought it might be a good test of what to expect on the road home.

  We made camp about a mile from town. We kept double watch all night just in case someone from town decided to sneak out and see we had anything they wanted. No one visited.

  We were under way before daylight and it was only first light when we approached the town. At the edge of town, a crude barricade blocked the highway. Two men were guarding it with rifles. They were both fast asleep. Julie and I crept up on them and moved their rifles out of reach. Neither woke. I studied their faces carefully. I did not want either of these men in my company when I left for the east.

  "Wake up," Julie said as she jostled a man's shoulder with the barrel of her AR-15.

  "Huh," The man woke slowly, possibly a sign of drinking the night before. The other was just as slow to wake. It was obvious that these two were relying on remoteness and the inhospitality of the desert to keep intruders at bay. I was glad that the gang from the pass had not ventured as far east as Mountainair. They would have killed or enslaved nearly the entire town.

  "Who are you?" The first man asked.

  "Just peaceful folks passing through," I said. The man's eyes were on the full auto M16 I held in my hand. The rifle was most likely a Vietnam issue piece that had ended up at a National Guard base and been appropriated by the gang in the pass. It was obvious the man was nervous. I would be too in his situation. "Who is in charge here?"

  "That would be the mayor."

  "Well, you run and get him. Tell him I want to talk to him and that we are peaceful."

  "Peaceful, with those guns?"

  "Get used to it," I said. "The world has changed. Everyone carries a gun now. Now you run along. Your friend can stay with us for the time being." The man ran off, looking behind at us a couple of times. Fifteen minutes later he reappeared with another man. The other man walked up to the barrier, but the first man stayed behind.

  As the man, who I assumed was the mayor, approached, I stepped forward and held out my hand. He took it. He shook hands with a strong grip. I took an instant liking to him.

  "I am Mayor Jones," He said.

  "I am Wayne, and this is Julie." I pointed at Yeti who was with the horses. "And that is Yeti."

  "What do you want here?" Mayor Jones asked.

  "Just passing through," I said.

  "We are on our way to my father's ranch. It is the Double H. His name is George Hoffman," Julie said.

  "I know George and I know the Double H. You must be Julie. George talks about you all the time at the café. You folks come right on through town. I will be glad to give you an escort. I know George will be glad to see you. He never told me you were married though."

  Julie glanced sideways at me. "I'm not. Wayne is a friend."

  By now Yeti had brought the horses alongside. "Mom, Dad! You aren't married? What does that make me?" The mayor laughed and I sputtered a bit. Julie was still looking sideways at me. I never could tell what was going through her head.

  The Mayor looked up at Yeti, who towered over him. Yeti had not learned to make himself appear shorter around short people. That was something I learned in sales school and I was unconsciously doing it now because the mayor was a good foot shorter than I was. "Boy, you are a big one. I can see how Wayne here could be your dad."

  "Mayor, I would like to sit down with you and trade information. I can tell you what we have seen to the west of here, advise you a bit on security based on what we have seen, and maybe even tell you what happened."

  "We know what happened. It was an EMP. We have a retired physics professor living here in town. He has filled most everyone in. I would love to know what you have seen west of here though. We can talk in the café. It is only two blocks ahead."

  "It's open?" I asked. "Do you have electricity?"

  "No we don't. But folks around here are tight, and the café has always been the real center of town, so a bunch of us put our heads together and got it open again. It runs on a wood stove, hauled water, and some kerosene lanterns, but it is open." He looked at his watch, "or it will be in fifteen minutes anyway."

  I was amazed. Everything I read about the after effects of an EMP emphasized how Wild West it would be. Yet here, in the Wild West, was an island of civilization. I wished it had been like this all the way from Socorro, and I wished it would be like this all the way home, but I knew that was unlikely. However, the town of Mountainair gave me hope for a brighter future than the one I had envisioned since the EMP.

  We walked to the café and the Mayor rapped on the glass. In a minute a woman appeared and opened the door for us. She then disappeared back into the kitchen. Julie and Yeti took the horses to a safe, out-of-sight location and then came inside. They joined the Mayor and me at the table. Julie, Yeti, and I still had our firearms, but the Mayor paid no attention to them.

  "We have to get around to putting up some hitching rails around town." The Mayor said. "We used to have some, but they were taken down in the eighties, I think. Looks like we will need some again."

  "I am impressed with the way you folks are coping here," I said.

  "Not everyone is coping well," the mayor smiled. "We have had to change things quite a bit in the last week or so."

  "What do you mean?" Julie asked. "The town still looks about like it always did to me, minus the electricity and cars, anyway."

  The mayor smiled. "According to the professor, we are very lucky here. We are isolated. He thinks we are too far from the city for many people to make it here, and he thinks most of those who do will be intelligent, competent folks who are not looking for trouble."

  "Mr. Mayor," I said.

  "Call me Bill," the mayor said.

  "OK, Bill, I think your professor may have it a bit wrong, and here is why." I told him about the gang who had hijacked the National Guard equipment and armament and how close the town came to being hit by them."

  "Oh, we never thought about that," the mayor frowned.

  "Do you have scouts out?" I asked.

  "No, we don't," the mayor paused. "That all sounds sort of military. I was never in the military."

  "Me either," I said, "but I have a pa-in-law who was and who spent years trying to drill that stuff into my head. I wish more of it stuck."

  "I am sure we have some ex-military folks here in town."

  "I am sure you do. Maybe you can draw on their knowledge?"

  "I think we will need to after what you just told me."

  We spent the next two hours talking around the table, only taking time out for some of the best steak I have ever had, along with some fried eggs. It was a fine breakfast—a mighty fine breakfast. Yeti seemed too busy eating to talk, but I noticed he was listening intently.

  I gave Bill a few suggestions on security, and told him more of what we encountered on our trip. I also told him what I thought they might expect and explained that my opinion was greatly colored by what Cap taught me.

  "As best I can tell, we are headed back to the days of the city/state—at least for a while," I said.

  "I think you are right. We will need our own army for protection," The mayor mused. "But how do we prevent any army we create from taking over?"

  "Model the town government after the three branches of government in the US and the US constitution," Yeti suggested. "Why reinvent the wheel?"

  "That sounds good to me," Bill said.

  "How are you going to feed everyone?" I asked.

  "We have been discussing that. Right now we are OK. We
are not sure about long term."

  "I wish I had the answer for you," I said. "But I don't."

  "Well, I have people working on that."

  "What about water?" I asked.

  "I have people working on that too," the mayor smiled. "We don't have answers yet."

  "So you don't know how many people the area will support."

  "No, not yet. But we don't want to lose anyone if we can help it."

  That was when we heard the gunfire. I pulled Julie down with me and hit the floor without even thinking about it. Yeti was very close behind. The mayor looked around a bit and then joined us on the floor.

  The gunshots were automatic weapon fire. It sounded like full auto M4 to me. Interspersed were occasional louder shots that I thought might be sniper rifles, either .308 or .338. Right about then a bullet shattered the main street window of the café.

  Chapter 8

  Wayne

  I crawled toward the kitchen and motioned Julie and Yeti to follow me. The mayor followed too. We made the kitchen safely. The lady who ran the café and her helpers were crouching behind the cast iron wood stove. I asked if there was a back door. There was. It opened into an alley with a few empty lots behind us.

  I told everyone to stay put and slipped into the alley with the antique M-16. I hoped it was enough gun. I sure missed the old Mosin right now because I thought I might have to play telephone and reach out and touch someone.

  Keeping my head low, I crept through the alley until I could peer down the street that intersected it. The café was almost on the corner, so I didn't have far to go. When I looked, I felt a sharp pain in my gut. On Main Street I saw an MRAP, one of those armored vehicles that the Department of Homeland Security took over when the military decided they didn't need them any more. As best I remember, the DHS had less than 3,000 of the unwieldy beasts, or about 60 per state. I assumed that these behemoths were confined to the major cities. Apparently I was wrong.

  I couldn't see who was operating the beast, but I doubted it would be the feds, unless a group of them went rogue. But why here, why Mountainair? It was a small town with few riches. Most of the folks here had very little. It was a question to which I wanted an answer, but I thought it would be wise to tread lightly until the answer made itself known.

  I looked for a way to get onto a roof overlooking Main Street. Three buildings down I found an old wooden ladder leaning alongside the back of a building. I leaned the ladder against the building and climbed, hoping it would support my bulk. It did, barely.

  The roof was flat, as so many roofs are on commercial buildings, and there was a front facade for cover. I made my way across the roof and carefully peered over the facade. In the street below there were three MRAPs and about twenty uniformed men carrying what looked like A4 carbines. What worried me were the 30-caliber machine guns mounted in the MRAP turrets. I could see that each gun was manned.

  I was careful to make as little noise as possible and to not let them see me. From the sound of some of the gunfire I heard earlier, I assumed they had at least one sniper set up to cover the street. I looked across the roofs of the buildings on both sides of me and saw no one. I should have thought of that before I climbed onto the roof. On-the-job training after the End of the World had the potential to be dangerous. I vowed to be even more careful.

  I had hoped that none of the MRAPs in use domestically was EMP proof. Apparently I was wrong.

  The only people I saw on the street were wearing uniforms, well, except for three bodies that appeared to be citizens. One of those was a woman. That did not bode well for the intentions of the intruders.

  Julie

  I crouched next to the woman who ran the café. She was terrified. "What is your name? My name is Julie."

  "I am Maria."

  "Are you afraid?"

  "Oh yes. Aren't you?"

  "Of course, but you can't let your fear take over. If it does, it can get you killed."

  "You know about these things?" She asked, gesturing toward the street and the armed men.

  "More than I would like," I said. "We have encountered much since the EMP."

  "We have had only small troubles here."

  "You have been lucky."

  "Will we survive this?"

  I put my hand on her arm. I calmed myself to see if I could find The Knowing. I only caught a glimpse of it and it was good. I didn't like to call on The Knowing, because I didn't want to know if something bad was going to happen, but Maria seemed so scared. "We will be fine, just fine."

  "You have the power?" Maria was visibly calmer now.

  "A little, from my mother and her grandmother."

  "Madre Dios! The priest, he tells us that it is an evil thing, but we who remember the old ways know better. You are blessed. Does your man know you have this gift?"

  "No."

  "It is better that way. Sometimes, the men, they don't understand."

  "Especially the priest?"

  Maria laughed, "Especially the priest."

  Yeti

  I sat on a chair while Julie talked to the café lady. Wayne was scouting the situation. I wish I could go with him, but my physical limitations would only be a liability. I considered what had happened and I recreated the map of the town that was on the wall in the café in my mind. I approached it like a game, a combination of a first person shooter, a military tactics game, and a civilization-building game. The situation seemed to have aspects of all of three.

  Wayne would probably laugh at me and just blow the bad guys away or something, but I didn't want anyone to get hurt. I had seen enough death, and death up close impacts an empath like no other. Empaths are far more susceptible to post-traumatic stress disorder than anyone else. I can feel the effects already from what we have been through. Too much violence would soon leave me incapable of acting with the determination and mental acuity I need to survive and help my family survive.

  I sat quietly on the chair, half expecting it to fail under me, while I worked out a number of tactical plans to eliminate the intruders. After some thinking, I realized I didn't know enough about the armored vehicles in the street, perhaps because I never played any computer games that featured them. I would ask Wayne later.

  Wayne

  So much of what I read, at Cap's urging, suggested that after an EMP life would become simpler. From my experiences so far, life after the world ended was far more complex and more difficult than before, at least for me. No longer could I assume that the majority of strangers were harmless. Now, I had to assume that most of them would try to kill us.

  I remembered reading comments on some of the online blogs where the commenters were anxious for the shit to hit the fan. I wondered how they felt about that now? I wondered how many of them were still alive? I considered myself more prepared than most, yet it was just luck that I was still alive.

  Cap always told me to honor Lady Luck, even though he professed not to believe in her. I always tried to honor her. From the three bodies I saw in the street, the intruders were pushing their luck today and Lady Luck was quick to turn on anyone who did that. But I wasn't going to depend solely on Lady Luck today. I had other plans.

  I made my way down into the alley. I figured that the MRAP guys would not stay put on Main Street for very much longer, so we didn't have very long to act. I slipped back into the café and led everyone back into the alley. The mayor then led us through a back door on another building standing alone on the other side of the alley. He locked the door behind us.

  "Who are those people?" He asked.

  "They appear to be feds of some kind. The MRAPs are labeled DHS, but since they shot three civilians, I'll bet they have either gone rogue, or they are just a gang of some kind."

  "Don't count out our illustrious government," Bill said.

  "I will admit it is a possibility, I just hope not. What would they want with Mountainair anyway?"

  "I have no idea," Bill said. "We have had visits from the DHS a couple of times, but
it was just some pencil-pushers in suits and ties. The last visit was several years ago now."

  "What do you want to do about them?" I asked.

  "Well, I guess we should see what they want, but I don't feel like getting shot. Do you?"

  "No I don't," I said as my shoulder throbbed at the thought.

  Then we heard the megaphone. "All citizens move to the streets. This is the Department of Homeland Security. The United States is now under martial law. All of your rights are suspended for the duration of martial law."

  "He shouldn't have said that," the mayor said. "We take our rights seriously around here, well, at least most of us do. We do have our share of those who don't seem to care."

  "Everyone takes their rights seriously if they have a brain in their head," Yeti said.

  "How many are there?" The mayor asked.

  "I counted about 20 in the street. There are at least six more in the MRAPs, maybe more. I think there is also at least one sniper..."

  "Two," Yeti said. "I heard fire from two different locations.

  "OK, two. Good job Yeti," I smiled. "Where do you think they are?"

  "At both ends of Main Street, from the sound of the shots."

  "How do you think we should we handle this?" The mayor asked.

  "Well," I asked, "do you want to submit the town to martial law?"

  "Hell no," the mayor smiled. He turned to the women from the café. "Maria, would you, Teresa, and Rolinda slip out the back way and round up the men folks. Tell everyone to stay away from the intruders and to gather on the south side of town with their rifles. Do you know that low spot just outside of town in the mesquite? It seems like a good hiding place. Please tell everyone we will meet them there in about 20 minutes."

  The women nodded and left. I was worried for their safety, but they seemed confident and competent. The mayor did not seem worried at all. I wondered if these folks understood the severity of the situation. With the machine guns and the MRAPs, the intruders could kill a lot of people.

 

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