When Mike and Ulysses finally made it out the back they shielded their eyes from the sun. Mike could hear the shouts of voices coming from the other side of the hospital, voices with a mindless purpose of chaos.
Chapter 4: The Highway
The summer sun was brutal. Even the asphalt was sweating. Mike and Ulysses trudged between the abandoned cars on the highway. Other travelers were spread out on the road, heading to whatever home they still hoped was there.
It’d been three hours since they left the hospital. Mike pulled the water bottle from the bugout bag he grabbed from his truck at the steel mill. The rays shining through the plastic hitting the water shimmered like crystals. He had to keep reminding himself to drink, while restraining himself not to down the entire bottle in one chug.
Mike pressed the bottle to his forehead, attempting to cool down. The water felt hot against his head. He reached out his hand to Ulysses, but the bottle hung in the air, and when Mike looked over Ulysses was gone. He spun around searching behind him.
“Dad?” Mike asked.
Ulysses was bent over on his knees and slowly slid down the driver’s side door of a car and collapsed on the pavement.
“Dad!”
Ulysses sprawled out on the ground. He was breathing quickly, panting like a dog trying to cool off, but with no success. Mike lifted his father’s head up and felt his forehead. He was burning up.
Mike tipped the bottle into Ulysses’ mouth. The water spilled over his lips and dribbled down his chin. Ulysses coughed and pushed the bottle away from his face.
“Dad, you have to drink,” Mike said.
“I’m fine.”
“Godamnit, Dad, now’s not the time to be stubborn.”
Ulysses put his hand down and took a few more gulps of water. Mike dropped the bottle in Ulysses’ lap. His eyes fell on the bandage around his arm where the hospital staff had drawn blood.
“Did you take that shot I gave you before we left the hospital?” Mike asked.
Ulysses took another sip of water, avoiding his son’s face. Mike ripped open his pack and pulled one of the bottles of insulin out of his bag. He ripped one of the needles out of the packet. He pulled the syringe back, filling it with the insulin from the bottle. Mike jammed the needle into his father’s arm and emptied it.
That was typical of his father. Never thinking he needed outside help. He’d never needed it before. He worked two jobs while going to school finishing his engineering degree. He lived in a broken down apartment in the slums of the city when he was first starting out, with barely enough money to feed himself, and ended up as head engineer for one of the most prestigious firms in the city.
When Mike was little his dad was superman, he could lift him up in the air with one arm. Now, just like the patients in the hospital on life support, without this tiny bottle of liquid he’d be dead.
Mike joined his dad under the shade of the car. The two of them sat there in silence for a while. The people passing them didn’t bother to stop. They didn’t think to ask what was wrong. They just kept moving toward their destinations, mindlessly. Mike thought about his destination. He needed to get back to his family.
“You and I both know that those insulin bottles are only good for another month,” Ulysses said.
Mike’s heart dropped. He’d never heard his father talk like that before. His dad had always been the one to push forward, find solutions, and get it done. It was the first time in his life he’d heard his father hint about the inevitability that comes to all men.
“Insulin isn’t the only thing that can help fight diabetes, Dad,” Mike said.
“It’s the only kind that can fight the type I have, and you know it.”
“Think you can walk?” Mike asked.
“Yeah,” Ulysses replied.
Ulysses handed the bottle back to Mike and the two headed down the path toward home. Mike’s eyes kept wandering to the windows of the cars he passed. Items left behind in the vehicles that he could easily take. Flashlights, emergency flares, food, water, all sitting in back seats, cup holders, and glove boxes.
Stop it. His eyes went back to the road. He wasn’t a looter. He only took the insulin because without it his father would have died.
Two men one car over from Mike were talking in whispers trying not to be too loud. One wore a grey Steelers jersey and shorts. The other was dressed in a short-sleeve polo and khaki pants.
“I’m tellin’ you, man, this was an EMP,” said polo shirt.
“It’s just a power outage,” said Steelers jersey.
“A power outage doesn’t cause your phone and car to break down.”
“You really think it’s the whole country?”
“Why haven’t we seen the national guard roll in yet? You saw what was happening in the city; people were going nuts.”
“You think it’s safer in Philly?”
“I guess we’ll find out when we get there.”
“Stay out of the cities,” Mike said.
The two men glanced over at Mike, who was looking at them.
“Your best bet is to head to a town with a small population. Gather whatever supplies you can and get to somewhere remote.”
“You think it was one of these EMPs that did all of this?” Steeler’s jersey asked.
“Yeah, I do,” Mike replied.
“Is that what you’re doing, survivor man? Going to get supplies?” Polo asked.
Then Mike heard it behind him, the low roar of an engine and the stiff shifting of gears. A light blue Chevy truck rumbled up the emergency lane.
People froze. Mouths dropped, and then arms flew up in the air. People made a sprint toward the car. Their frantic hands hit the side of the car, pounding on the windows, begging for a ride.
“Can you take us to New York?”
“I’m trying to get to Dayton.”
“Please, we’ve been walking for hours.”
“I’ll pay you, just please let us get in.”
The truck crawled to a stop from the blockade of people. Mike could see the young man and elderly couple inside the truck cab. The young man rolled the windows down.
“Hey, get out off the truck,” the driver called, turning toward the back.
Everyone was jumping in the truck bed, shoving each other out of the way savagely to make room for themselves. The unwanted passengers banged on the roof and sides of the truck demanding that they move forward.
“Get out of there! Now!” the driver said getting out of the truck cab.
The elderly couple held onto each other, their eyes wide with fear. One of the crowd members tried to climb in the driver’s seat when the driver got out, but he shoved him away.
Ulysses sprinted for the truck.
“Dad!” Mike said.
Ulysses had pushed his way through the crowd to the passenger side door. The truck started to rock back and forth. The driver turned around and saw Ulysses trying to pull his mother out.
“Don’t you dare touch her, asshole!” he said.
The young man leaped over the hood of the truck shoving Ulysses back. The crowd around them had grown to at least sixty people. Mike came up from behind and subdued the driver in a headlock.
“Dad, get them out,” Mike shouted.
Mike dragged the young man away from the crowd while Ulysses helped the elderly couple out of the cabin. When they were finally clear of the chaos around the truck Mike let the young man go.
People crammed themselves into the truck. Someone finally jumped behind the wheel and slammed on the gas. The truck hit several people before they were able to get out of the way. It swerved, smashing into cars and the concrete wall along the highway. People in the truck bed were falling out and smacking onto the pavement.
The truck drove further down the road with more people chasing after it. The young man started after it, but stopped when he realized his parents wouldn’t be able to keep up. He came back and took a swing at Mike’s head, who ducked out of the way.
“Calm down, boy,” Ulysses said.
“Calm down? Our truck is fucking gone!”
“Somebody would have shot you, stabbed you, or hurt your parents to get that truck,” Mike said.
“It’s okay, Chris,” the boy’s father said, putting his hand on his son’s shoulder, and with that the fight went out of him.
“We made it all this way,” Chris said.
“You should have stayed off the highways. That’s where most people will turn to when they travel. It’s large, familiar, and if other people are traveling it’s possible for them to get a ride,” Mike said.
“There were so many people begging us for rides. My parents kept yelling for me to stop, to pick some of them up, but I knew what would happen if I did,” Chris said.
“You did the right thing,” Mike replied.
As the five of them walked along the road Mike saw him glance back at his parents, shuffling along the highway next to Ulysses. The boy’s father had his arm around his mom while Ulysses chewed their ear off about last night’s Pirates game.
“They’re not going to make it,” Chris said.
“Don’t count them out just yet,” Mike said.
Mike was speaking about Chris’s parents, but looking at his dad.
The sun sank lower in the sky the further they moved west. The orange ball in front of them spread its colors across the sky in pinks, reds, and fading blues. Chris’s exit came up and they parted ways.
“Good luck, Mike,” Chris said.
“You too.”
Ulysses shook both of Chris’ parents’ hands. They turned onto the off ramp that would take them to Chris’ girlfriend’s house. Mike watched the couple grasp each other’s hands and follow their son’s lead. He wanted them to make it. He wanted them to survive.
Mike and Ulysses were about an hour away from home when they came across the blue Chevy truck turned on its side. Blood and bullet holes riddled the windshield. The mob that had attacked it didn’t know why the car was working, they just saw it and panicked, but Mike knew.
The truck that had worked was too old to have any computer chips in it. That’s why it ran, but the masses didn’t care about that. They just wanted something to work, without understanding why.
Across the dashboard, slumped over the wheel of the truck, Mike recognized the back of the Steeler jersey. Mike kept his eyes forward and the smoke rising from the wreckage grew smaller behind them.
Chapter 5: Home
The sun had completely disappeared from the sky when Mike and Ulysses turned onto 24th Street. Most of the driveways were empty. The windows along the street were dark. There was only one dim light coming from down the street: his house.
Mike felt himself running. His feet lost their pain. His face lost its weariness. His body lost its fatigue. He ran up the driveway digging into his pockets for the keys, fumbling them in the lock and thrusting the door open.
“Anne? Kalen? Freddy?” Mike shouted.
Mike looked up and saw Anne lean over the railing on the second floor. He watched her face fade from a smile to shock. Her feet thumped against the steps as she rushed down to him.
“Oh my god. Mike, are you all right? What happened?” she asked.
Her hands touched the dried blood on his shirt. She touched gingerly, looking for a wound that wasn’t there.
“I’m fine. The blood it’s not mi-”
Mike stopped. He pictured Garry’s lifeless body covered with the white sheet where underneath his green eyes were open, unmoving, frozen.
“It’s not mine,” he finished
Mike gently leaned his forehead against hers. The candles in the foyer barely lighted the features on her face, but he already knew every line of it with his eyes closed.
“Are you and the kids okay?” Mike asked.
“Yeah, we’re fine. The kids are a little restless. Mike, what’s going on? Nothing’s working. The phones, laptops, cars, everything’s dead.”
“I know. You didn’t try and take the Jeep out did you?” Mike asked.
“No, why? Would it work?”
“Yes, but let’s keep that to ourselves for now, okay?”
“What makes you think it will work?”
“It doesn’t have any computer chips in it.”
He watched her face process what he said, then saw her hand slowly cover her mouth in realization of what that meant.
“Jesus,” she said.
“I hope you’ve got room for one more,” Ulysses said, finally catching up with Mike.
Anne composed herself and hurried over to Ulysses, wrapping her arms around him.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Anne said.
Ulysses kissed the top of her head.
“Still breathing. How are you and the kids holding up?” he asked.
“Well, Freddy went over to Sean’s house and Kalen’s at Malory’s,” Anne said.
“Shouldn’t Kalen be here? She’s grounded,” Mike said.
“What’s she going to do over there, Mike? Everything she’s grounded from doesn’t work,” Anne replied. “And besides, she was driving me nuts.”
“I’m going to change upstairs and then bring the kids home. Will you set up the guest room for dad?” Mike asked.
“The couch will suit me just fine,” Ulysses replied.
“I’ll have the spare room ready in no time,” Annie said.
***
Mike walked down to Sean’s house to grab his son. He didn’t mind Sean, but his father, Nelson, was a man he could never understand. They just didn’t’ have anything in common.
When Mike rapped his knuckles on the front door he could hear the shouts of the two boys running around inside the house. Nelson answered and smiled.
“Mike!”
“Hi, Nelson. I’ve come to collect Frankenstein’s monster.”
Freddy came running by the front door. His head was hidden inside a cardboard box that had two eyeholes cut out and a wide, toothy mouth drawn across it.
“Dad!”
Freddy rushed toward his father. Mike lifted him up in the air and tilted the box up to see his son’s face.
“Hey, buddy.”
“Dad, the power went out and then Kalen got really mad because she couldn’t look at pictures of James, the boy she likes, and then I told her that she should just stand outside of his window and drool at him there and then she threw her phone at me and Mom yelled at her and then she screamed about how she hated living here and that when she moves to New York the power will never go out, but I don’t mind the power being out because I got to be outside all day.”
“I’m glad you’re making the best of it.”
Mike turned to Nelson.
“I appreciate you watching him, Nelson.”
“It’s no trouble. He’s welcome to come over any time, but umm, Mike, before you go,” Nelson said, stepping outside the house and closing the door behind him.
Mike stood, still holding Freddy in his arm. He watched Nelson fold his arms across his chest. He was worried.
“Do you know what’s going on?” Nelson asked.
“No.”
Mike wasn’t sure why he lied, or why he answered so quickly, but when the words left him, he felt a pang of guilt in his stomach.
“It’s just… I haven’t been able to reach Katie on her cell. It’s like everything’s fried,” Nelson replied.
The flashbacks from the mobs in the streets popped into Mike’s mind. He remembered the smell of blood and heat from the hospital, the rush of panic spreading through everyone in the city.
“I’m sure she’s fine, Nelson.”
“I know. I just worry.”
Mike knew that Katie was some sort of vice president at a company. It was a large corporation, so he figured she must have had some sort of security detail with her. He thought that would at least give her a chance.
“Well, you guys have a good night,�
� Nelson said.
“You too,” Mike said.
No Power: EMP Post Apocalyptic Fiction Thriller Super Boxset Page 103