Solar Reboot

by Matthew D. Hunt

  “Yeah. We’ve got a generator, and it kicked right on.”

  “Sometimes Alex’s ideas don’t seem so bad, do they?”

  “I was just thinking that. Do you want to come over?”

  Bettie shook her head. “Thank you, but I’m fine. Now I just want to go to bed and wake up when I can turn my heater back on.”

  Cameron smiled. “Okay. Good night.”

  Back in the house, without the benefit of the TV to keep her distracted, everything seemed suddenly too quiet. She found herself going back and forth to the front windows, looking out at the rest of the neighborhood. But no matter how many times she checked, no one else’s lights came back on. She was only grateful they didn’t come poking around her place. Probably too late for most of them. Maybe half the people on their street went to bed early, and most likely wouldn’t realize the power had even gone out until they missed their alarms the next morning.

  Struck by a thought, she pulled out her phone and swiped up Alex’s contact. But when she tried to text, she had no signal.

  “Damn it,” she muttered, shoving the phone back in her pocket.

  Nothing to do and no one to talk to. What was she supposed to do, just stand there waiting like an idiot?

  Alex and Piper would be home the next day. She could clean up. Yes, that would be something.

  She went through the house, looking for things to put in order. The take-out was the first obvious choice, and then the few dishes in the kitchen sink. But she ran out fast. Cameron had never been especially messy, her discipline a holdover from military life. In the couple of days since Alex and Piper had left, the house had actually gotten a lot cleaner.

  A book, she thought. She could read. That was something people did, right? Or at least they used to. She went to Alex’s office and picked something off the shelf, not even glancing at the title, then curled up back in the living room with it. She even tossed a throw blanket over her legs, completing a look that was about as not her as you could get.

  Five minutes later she realized she was still on the first page, because she kept glancing back and forth at her phone every few seconds.

  She threw the book on the coffee table with an exasperated sigh.

  This is fine. Totally fine. Alex and Piper wouldn’t land until the afternoon, and she wasn’t working tomorrow. She could sleep in basically as late as she wanted. That meant she could stay up until her phone worked again, and then text Alex just to set her mind at ease.

  Once upon a time, she had had a perfect go-to solution for waiting around bored, and she already had just the right supplies for it. So she poured herself another glass of wine, filling it to the brim, and drank deep. As the alcohol crept in, she fiddled around with her phone so she could keep her eye on the signal bars. Apparently there were a few games she’d downloaded forever ago and then forgotten about—or, more likely, Piper had downloaded them to her phone when she wasn’t looking.

  One by one they gave her half an hour of entertainment at a time, until she struck on one that completely ensnared her. She tapped away at it over and over again, mesmerized by the bright colors and flashing lights, snatching another sip from her glass every few seconds.

  “This thing is fantastic,” she said, and paused. The words had been slurred. She looked over at the coffee table. When had she opened the other bottle?

  Then she looked back at the phone and realized she had a signal bar.

  She smashed down on the home button and opened the texting app as quick as she could, surprised by how badly she wanted to send it and cursing as her fingers fumbled over the keys. In seconds she was done, and she tapped Send. The progress bar slid across the screen for what seemed like an eternity.

  It clicked, and the app said “Sent” just below the words.

  She sighed and leaned back, mental adrenaline fading away. All of a sudden she felt too tired to even move herself to bed, so she curled up on the couch under the throw blanket.

  Everything will be better tomorrow morning, she thought as she drifted off.

  CHAPTER 3

  Near 5:00 in the morning, Alex was dragged painfully from sleep by the sound of sirens.

  At first he had to lie there for a moment, listening through the grogginess of sleep as he tried to place the sound. As he placed it, nerves crept up his back. Sure, sirens were rare back home, but in Manhattan they were part of life’s backdrop. He’d slept through them plenty, on this trip and on several before. Why, then, had they woken him?

  Because there were too many, and too loud.

  He sat up in his hotel bed. Piper still slept in her bed across the room, undisturbed. He slipped from his bed as quietly as he could and made his way to the window. The curtain was an ancient thing, and it squeaked harsh against its rust as he pulled it aside. Nothing on the streets below, no flashing lights, but he thought the sirens must be just around the next corner. And now that he focused, he could hear their variety; ambulances, cop cars and fire trucks, all joining together in a chorus like the warning bells that cities used to have in medieval times.

  But something was wrong. Something else. For a long moment at that window, he couldn’t place it. More time looking raised the hairs on the back of his neck higher, rather than soothing him.

  Then it hit him. Manhattan was dark. No lights shone from the windows of the dozens of skyscrapers in view. The city that never slept was out cold.

  His phone. He snatched it up and swiped it open, meaning to find a news site that might have word about the outage. But he stopped as he saw a notification: a text from Cameron. He swiped it open.

  Power went out. Generator kicked in, but lights are still out in the neighborhood. Heard the same happened on the east coast. Update?

  That wasn’t too odd in itself, but then he saw the time the text had been sent. It was just a half hour ago, almost 1:30 am Cameron’s time. That, more than the words, formed a deep pit of worry in his stomach.

  He had no signal to reply, and he cursed the city’s thick buildings that gave such spotty reception. That meant he couldn’t search any sites for updates, either.

  The TV, then. He searched in vain for the remote, then gave up and went to turn it on by hand. Immediately he smashed his finger down on the volume button, knocking it down to mute before the picture had time to come up on screen.

  But there was no picture. No signal whatsoever. Just blank static. Frowning, Alex thumbed the channel buttons up and down. The result was the same. White snow, glaring at him in the darkness.

  He tried to fight back the panic building in his chest. Think. There had to be some way to find out what was going on. If the Internet and cell wouldn’t work, and the TV was down, then there was always . . .

  Alex went to the room’s alarm clock. The thing was a brick, an ancient relic that was nevertheless pointless to replace. Why get newer, better alarm clocks when every tenant had a cell phone to do the job? But the clock had one thing Alex’s phone didn’t: a radio setting. And better yet, its red digits shone in the darkness of the room. A backup battery for power, in case of power outages. No hotel wanted to deal with angry guests who missed their morning wakeup call.

  First he unplugged it and took it into the bathroom so the noise wouldn’t wake Piper. Then he turned it to AM radio and began spinning the tuning dial. What signals he could find were spotty and weak, but finally he found one strong enough to be heard through the static. He fingered the dial carefully, getting it in just the right spot, until a calm, smooth voice slithered out of the speakers.

  —power remains down in the city, with only backup generators providing emergency power until state government figures out the problem. We’ve heard a few reports that the problem has spread to other grids across the country—or, I guess “spread” is the wrong word, isn’t it? It’s not like a virus, I guess, ha ha. Anyway, if you’re out there listening in the dark, thanks for choosing to spend your time with us, and keep yourself safe. Maybe stay inside, play some board games with the family.
I don’t know about all of you, but I can’t get a phone signal to save my life, and for the first time I’m having to talk to my family, ha ha. Reminds me of what life was like in the nineties. We’ll give you more updates as we have them, but until then we’ve got a story from Frank “Stank” Savage, who went out to see one of my personal favorite bands—

  Alex turned the radio off with a growl of impatience. What kind of idiot babbled about a concert when his whole state—heck, for all they knew, the country—was in a blackout?

  Indecision turned to action in the span of a second, and he left the bathroom. He shook Piper’s shoulder gently until finally she came awake, blinking at him in the near-pitch darkness.

  “What? Stop shaking me.”

  “We’ve gotta go, sweetie. I need you to get up and start packing your things.”

  “Why?” said Piper, waking up fast. “What time is it?”

  Alex clicked his phone. “A bit after 5.”

  “Oh my god. No. Let me go back to sleep.” She turned over and dragged the covers above her head with a savage wrench.

  Alex slowly pulled them back down, with Piper fighting all the way. “Come on, honey. We need to go.”

  “Why?” Her voice had taken on that plaintive whine that was perfectly calculated to drive Cameron and him crazy, although just now he could hardly blame her. “The sun’s not even up yet.”

  “I know. And the power’s out, too. I’m guessing all flights have been cancelled. So we’re going on a small road trip. If you’re tired, you can sleep in the car.”

  Piper still fought valiantly to keep her head under the covers, but she was fighting a losing battle. “A road trip where? Come on, it’s not like we’re going to drive all the way home. And when the airports are back up, we’re just going to be further away from them.”

  Alex sighed, then put on his “stern father” tone. He hated it, but he needed her out of the bed. “Piper, we’re leaving. Get up. Now.”

  The covers finally came down, and she glared at him through the darkness. “Fine. But I’m sleeping in the car, and you can’t try to force me to stay awake to keep you company.”

  He barely kept from sighing in relief. “Okay. No problem.”

  “And we’re getting breakfast before we leave.”

  Alex ground his teeth. Not only was the hotel restaurant stupidly expensive, but more importantly, it meant more time. But he’d have to pick his battles. “Fine. Get up. We’re leaving in ten.”

  * * *

  The restaurant, of course, was far worse than Alex had feared.

  Despite his ultimatum, it was twenty minutes before Piper was ready to leave the hotel room at last. He tried to take the stairs, but she refused. The elevator was still working—hotels always had emergency power setups for what they considered vital necessities—and by god, Piper meant to use it. By the time they reached the lobby he was a ball of impatience, surprising himself by not bouncing from the elevator walls. He was half ready to veto the whole breakfast plan and carry her out the front door if he had to. But it would be good to get food in their bellies, especially if his creeping sense of unease turned out to be something more than just paranoia. But as soon as they reached the restaurant, he wished he’d tossed Piper over his shoulder and run.

  “Elizabeth!” Piper beamed and ran to one of the tables, hugging a girl Alex didn’t recognize. But her name was familiar, and a moment later he realized why—she was one of the girls from the swim meet, the daughter of the woman Jackie who’d been flirting with him in the bleachers. And there, at the same table, Jackie studied Alex over the heads of both their daughters. Under her cool stare, he briefly considered pretending he didn’t know who Piper was, and walking right by the table.

  “Come on, dad. Let’s eat with them.”

  Well. So much for that plan.

  Alex tried to smile and gave a mumbled greeting before brushing past and going to the hotel’s buffet. Despite its incredible expense, it was probably worth it. There were heaping trays of eggs, bacon, sausage and oatmeal, with chefs waiting behind glass screens to prepare custom omelets for pickier guests. Alex passed them by, but Piper stopped and had them make a cheese and mushroom omelet.

  After that painful ordeal, they made their way back to the table where Elizabeth and Jackie were waiting. Piper sat and fell immediately into an animated conversation with Elizabeth. Alex tried not to look at Jackie, remaining very focused on his food. Fortunately his silence was a little less conspicuous with the girls’ chatter. First they talked about the meet, complaining about how sore their muscles were after yesterday, and then they quickly moved on to the power outage.

  “It’s crazy how dark the city is, right?”

  “I know. I wonder why our hotel rooms didn’t have light, but there’s lights on here.”

  “They always have lights on in the lobby. I think it’s like a law or something.”

  It isn’t, thought Alex, but he kept his mouth shut.

  “Why are you even up this early?”

  “We always get up early. Our whole family does this morning routine thing . . . what’s it called again, mom?”

  Jackie stopped studying Alex to turn to her daughter. “The Miracle Morning.”

  “Yeah, that. We do it, plus my dad, even though sometimes he skips it when he does his poker night thing.”

  “Weird. You just wake up early?”

  “Wake up early, exercise, yoga, that kind of thing. It’s supposed to make the rest of your day better.”

  Piper turned to him. “Maybe we should try that, dad.”

  Alex tried not to laugh out loud. He’d heard of the routine, and the very idea of Piper getting up that early for any reason, much less exercise, was ludicrous. He barely managed to say, “Sure, sweetie,” without spitting out the eggs in his mouth.

  Piper missed his quiet snickering and returned to Elizabeth. “Are you guys flying home today?”

  “We were,” said Jackie, butting in. “But our flight’s been cancelled. It looks like all the airports are down until they figure out how to get the power back up.”

  “Yeah, our flight got cancelled, too. We’re going to drive at least part of the way home instead.” Piper’s frown turned into a look of sudden realization. “Hey! Where do you guys live again?”

  “Pittsburgh,” said Elizabeth.

  Piper turned to Alex. “Dad, that’s west of here! If we’re going to drive until we can find a flight the rest of the way home, why don’t we just take them with us? Then it wouldn’t be just the two of us in the car.”

  Alex wanted to die. But fortunately, and unexpectedly, Jackie swooped in to save him. “That’s very sweet, but we’re going to stay in the city. We’ll just wait for the airport to get back up and running, and until then we’re going to have some fun in the city. It’s not like we’re in any rush to get home.”

  “That’s what I want to do,” Piper said, glaring at Alex.

  He speared his last bite of eggs and gulped it down quickly. “Sorry, sweetie. But speaking of which, we should really get on the road. Traffic’s going to get pretty clogged up on the way out of the city. Might as well try to get a jump on it.”

  “I’m not even halfway done with my breakfast,” said Piper.

  “Well then, less talking, more chow. Come on, chop chop.”

  Piper and Elizabeth rolled their eyes at each other. Alex thought he even saw Jackie looking toward the heavens for a second. Piper took a few more bites in quick succession, but soon started talking with Elizabeth again. He had to keep butting in, getting her to eat more and more until she finally said she was done. Then, with a haste that he knew had crossed the line way into rudeness, he ushered her up and away from the table.

  “What is your problem?” said Piper. “We’re going to be in the car with each other for hours, if not longer. Can’t I even eat one meal with a friend of mine in peace beforehand?”

  Alex tried to hide his concern behind a goofy smile as he tousled her hair. “Oh, come on.
I’m a much better friend than Elizabeth.”

  “No.”

  “We’re buddies.”

  “We’re not. I don’t even have ‘buddies.’” She was pouting, but only because she was trying to hide a smile.

  “Chums.”

  “No.”

  “Pals.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Oh hey, look, a bus.” An express transit waited with a sign on the front that read New Jersey. Before she could even answer, Alex had Piper on board. They settled into seats, and in a few minutes the bus took off.

  * * *

  They’d taken the first empty seats they’d found, right near the front. Looking toward the back of the bus, Alex realized it was nearly empty. From one of his multitude of mirrors, the driver noticed Alex looking around.

  “Lotta people aren’t going to work today,” said the driver. “When power goes out, you get that a lot. People figure their work can’t call them to complain, so they play hooky. If their boss calls them on it tomorrow, they’ll just say they couldn’t make the commute. Subway’s down, too. Plus, there’s never many people going to Jersey in the morning. Most of the bodies are moving the other way.”

  It was a stunning amount of information, especially considering Alex hadn’t even asked for it. “Crazy,” was all he could think to say.

  He pictured his own job, a frequently lonely station buried in the middle of the Washington woods. He could take days off if he wanted to, and most times people wouldn’t even notice. But you didn’t become a ranger without liking the job, or at least you didn’t stay long.

  Piper had tried to go online almost as soon as the bus started driving, but with no Internet she’d swiftly kicked on some music. Now she leaned her head against the window, watching the passing crowds and buildings, some overly-percussive pop beat blasting from the little white earbuds. It reminded Alex of his own phone, and he pulled it out to check the signal. Still nothing. He glared out at the skyscrapers, keeping a weather eye on the signal bars.

  As the bus cleared the city, emerging from the Holland Tunnel into New Jersey, two bars finally sprang to life. Alex swiped his screen with fingers that were suddenly shaking, and tapped Cameron’s contact. He heard only silence in the earpiece for a few seconds, but then finally the familiar br-r-r of a ringtone sounded in his ear.