by Bobby Akart
Jones continued. “I’ve received a phone call from Commissioner Goodell, whose flight has been grounded out of New York. He is telling me that, in all likelihood, tonight’s game will be—”
But Jones was interrupted by the buzzing of muted cell phones that were set to vibrate. Within thirty seconds, text messages were received and voice mails were listened to.
Many of the attendees in the conference room, except for Colton, were receiving wireless emergency alerts. Since 9/11, public safety officials had used the emergency alert system as a reliable method of delivering warnings of impending natural or man-made disasters. Governmental websites like NOAA, FEMA, and Ready.gov provided a variety of notification options.
In Colton’s home state, the Tennessee Emergency Management Agency, or TEMA, created a Mobile Preparedness App for all major cell phone platforms. In addition to warnings of an impending disaster, the app provided locations of shelters, evacuation routes, and local emergency management contacts based upon your location.
At any given time, a user could visit the app and determine the state’s emergency activation level. Level five was considered normal, and level one indicated a catastrophic disaster. Colton was unaware that his state had declared a level two, major disaster.
“A solar flare?” said one of the attendees.
“Possible power outages,” said another.
Jones continued. “The game is likely to be canceled. Now, I live here, so this is easy for me to say. It’s possible this is a false alarm, as there is not an official statement from the President or her staff. But for any of you who would feel more comfortable getting home to your families, I suggest you leave now. I have cars waiting downstairs to take each of you to your chosen destination.”
Papers were being shoveled into briefcases, and the lids snapped closed before some of the executives hit the conference room door. Pleasantries were not exchanged. Handshakes with their host were sidestepped. It was every man for himself.
Colton sat stunned for a moment before he gathered his belongings. Most of the NFL and network people flew in on private jets from New York or California. They would meet up with their aircraft at the nearby executive airport in Addison. Nobody offered him a lift. Colton realized he was the only attendee that flew on a commercial airline.
As he left, he stopped to shake the hand of the NFL icon Jerry Jones. “I want to thank you, sir, for what you have done for my client and me. I hope this is not as serious as it portends to be.”
“I agree, young man. May I assume you’re flying back to Nashville? You’re welcome to ride this out at my lake house near Tioga.”
Colton smiled and declined, saying that he wanted to get home to his family. He picked up his pace and headed down the hallway toward the winding stairwell leading to the lobby. He was remarkably calm considering he rang the warning bell with Madison an hour ago.
Madison! Doggone it. I need to call her. He tried in vain, but all circuits were busy. Colton suspected much of America would be lighting up the cell phone lines over the next hour, attempting to spread the word of the impending flare.
How am I gonna get through? I need to get on a plane!
Chapter 24
10 Hours
1:52 p.m., September 8
Sam Rayburn Tollway
North Dallas, Texas
The black Lincoln Town Car raced through traffic on the toll road named for former Texas Congressman Sam Rayburn, who served as the Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives for seventeen years, the longest tenure in history. Rayburn was actually a Tennessean by birth, having been born in Roane County near the Cumberland Plateau.
Colton tried not to watch as his driver emulated a frustrated NASCAR driver who’d rather be at the Texas Motor Speedway. Instead, Colton focused his efforts on trying to get flight information online and changing his reservation. He was not having any luck. He kept receiving a 502 Bad Gateway Error Message, which meant the servers for the websites were overloaded. He had less luck getting through on the phone. His texts appeared to be going out, but he was unsure whether they were being delivered. It was very frustrating.
The driver found his way to DFW, and Colton immediately headed to the American Airlines ticket counter. He read the departure board while he waited in line. The first available nonstop flight left at 2:25. After that, he would have to wait until 4:44.
The line wasn’t moving, and Colton craned his neck to get a better view of the ticket counter. The passengers appeared frustrated as the ticket agents stared down at their computer monitors. Ten minutes had passed, and nobody had been issued a ticket. Something is wrong.
It was hot and stuffy in Terminal A, and the travelers began to feel the heat under their collars as well. Colton looked at his watch and saw that it was nearly 2:00 p.m. Even if a seat was available on the earlier Nashville flight, there were so many potential passengers in line that he knew that flight was realistically out of the question. He began to doubt whether he could make the 4:44, for that matter. The TSA checkpoint lines were so slow that the FAA was recommending allowing three hours to pass through security—under normal travel conditions. This was hardly normal.
Colton had to make a decision. He recalled that it was roughly six hundred fifty miles or so to Nashville from Dallas, and it was all interstate. He performed the calculations in his head. The only major cities that would hold him up were Little Rock and Memphis. Little Rock had a bypass, but Memphis would be a pain in the butt. If I average eighty miles an hour, that’s eight hours. Home by 10:00. Decision made.
Colton left the line and was headed down the escalator toward Ground Transportation and the car rental companies when he heard the PA announcement followed by groans and shouts of anger. American Airlines had just announced that their outbound flights were either grounded or canceled due to lack of equipment. Because so many flights from northern airports had been canceled, there weren’t any inbound planes available to meet connections. At that moment, commercial airline travel came to a virtual standstill across the nation.
Colton ran down the remaining few steps of the escalator, pushing his way past half a dozen people. He approached the Hertz counter and was pleased to find that there was no line. He stood there patiently for a moment, waiting for a rental agent, but no one arrived. He looked around for a bell or a buzzer to ring. Nothing. But then he noticed a sign upside down on the counter that read NO CARS AVAILABLE. A frustrated customer must have slammed it down in disgust.
He immediately looked around at the other counters. The counters were vacant, but there were several signs that read NO CARS AVAILABLE.
Now what? Colton wandered through the rental car area, rubbing his temples and looking to his cell phone for guidance. He tried to call Madison again with no luck. He hadn’t received a response to his text. What am I gonna do? I could go back to Frisco. Maybe Jerry Jones could take me to his lake house?
Colton began walking toward the taxi stand, and he saw a small rental car counter tucked around the corner from the main rows of the national brand names. It was called Divine Auto Rental, and there was a lonely customer service agent waiting for the next traveler. Their sign read CARS AVAILABLE.
Just what the good Lord ordered, he laughed to himself.
Chapter 25
10 Hours
1:48 p.m., September 8
Kroger Grocery Store
West End Avenue
Nashville, Tennessee
Just as Madison and Alex turned their overloaded carts toward the checkout aisles, the sights and sounds of cell phones coming to life filled the aisles of the Kroger store. It was not the grocery store chain’s equivalent of the famous K-Mart Blue Light Special of years past. This was a special alert of another kind—here comes the sun, and not in a nice way.
The State of Tennessee elected to use its Amber Alert Warning system to post a notification about the geomagnetic storm. As of 2013, AMBER Alerts, which were used exclusively for the purposes of notifying the public
of a serious child-abduction case, were automatically sent through the Wireless Emergency Alerts program to all cell phone users. Everyone with a WEA-enabled phone was automatically enrolled for three alerts—presidential declarations, imminent threats like terrorist acts, and AMBER alerts.
Although a national program, it was typically utilized by local law enforcement and governments. Tennessee’s governor issued an imminent threat warning regarding the coronal mass ejection inbound from the sun.
Within the store, over a span of thirty seconds, the shoppers went from dead silence to a panicked mob. Many saw the alert, which began with the words Imminent Threat Warning, and lost sight of the message which followed.
Earlier in the year, a much-publicized Imminent Threat Warning was issued by newly installed Governor Charlie Crist of Florida declaring a state of emergency in the Daytona Beach area. The Daytona 500 was cancelled moments before the green flag dropped, causing a mass panic and the deaths of seventeen people. It became a major source of embarrassment to the newly inaugurated President.
“We’re under attack!”
“Terrorists!”
“Are we at war?”
The shouts of fear and hysteria filled the air amidst the sounds of metal shopping carts crashing into each other. Cell phones rang and were answered. Others attempted to reach loved ones. Madison kept her head and urged Alex to hurry to the checkout aisle.
Out of twelve available lanes, only one “twenty items or less” was open, the self-checkout, and five regular lanes. Madison resisted the urge to use the “twenty items or less” aisle out of fear of reprisals from her fellow shoppers, and moved down to aisle four. The woman and the young boy from earlier were checking out, and one elderly woman with a modestly filled basket was in line in front of them.
Madison assessed their haul and was pleased with herself. Behind her, the sounds of chaos ensued. At the entryway to the left of the checkout aisles, people tried to force their way through the sliding doors, causing a jam. A store employee attempted to assist the new shoppers and received a shove to the floor for her efforts.
Shouts and arguments filled the air from the aisles. The crash of broken glass caused a momentary silence before the mayhem continued. Madison was astonished at how quickly the situation devolved into pandemonium. As Alex slid the blue divider stick behind the elderly woman’s stack of Ensure, Madison thought about how the behavior of human beings was so unpredictable. They were not wired to accept change very well. Their psyche was too sensitive. She wondered if it had always been that way, or was it because society was too coddled now and therefore unable to adapt.
Alex began to unload Madison’s cart as a heavyset man rammed his shopping cart into her backside. Madison lurched forward and looked back at the man, who was obviously impatient. The line behind him had developed, and there were angry shouts demanding more open checkout lanes.
Ordinarily, Madison would try to monitor the prices as they were rung up on the electronic register system. Today, it was impossible to keep up. Although they had been in the store for nearly an hour at this point, it had been anything but a leisurely shopping day for mother and daughter. This trip reminded Madison of an episode of Supermarket Sweep, which had aired on Lifetime years ago.
Alex worked with the lone bagger to relocate the day’s haul from the conveyer belt to the empty carts. The groceries, which filled two carts while in the store, now required three carts to depart the premises.
The bored and oblivious checkout clerk looked at Madison and asked, “Do you have your Kroger card with you today?”
“What?” asked Madison, clearly distracted from the normal shopping experience.
“Would you like your discount? Do you have your Kroger rewards card? If not, I can sign you—”
Madison interrupted the clerk as the man behind her slammed a case of Schlitz beer on the conveyor belt, causing her to jump. “Sorry, here.”
“Your total is one thousand one hundred twenty-one dollars, thirty-four cents,” announced the clerk.
Madison reached for her phone out of her bag and immediately noticed there were no missed calls or text messages from Colton. I hope he’s okay. She navigated to the Chase Bank Mobile App, which was accepted by Kroger as payment. She scanned the phone to pay.
No response. She tried it again. Nothing.
“Is this machine working?” she asked, referring to the Canadian-based Moneris VX520 iTerminal mounted next to the register.
“It was,” replied the clerk. “Try a credit card.”
Madison, feeling the pressure from the probing eyes of the shoppers behind her, fumbled through her purse and found her wallet. The man behind her let out an audible sigh, followed by an obnoxious belch.
Madison found her Chase debit card and swiped it again.
Nothing. This time a message on the terminal read Card Fail.
Madison stared at the machine, dumbfounded. They had plenty of money in their bank account to pay for the groceries. Embarrassment was beginning to overwhelm her.
“It reads card fail,” she whispered to the clerk, or so she thought. The man behind her lifted his now empty cart and dropped it to the floor with a loud clank.
“C’mon, let’s go!” he huffed.
Madison ignored him and tried another card. Same result. Card Fail.
“There must be something wrong with your machine,” said Madison. The clerk stared back at her with no expression or suggestion. A store manager interrupted the transaction with an announcement over the store’s PA system.
“May I have your attention, please? Please, Kroger shoppers. May I have your attention? We are experiencing difficulty with our credit card processing company. At this time, we are only able to accept cash or check for payment.”
Madison frantically waved Alex over. “Give me your checkbook.”
“It’s in my book bag. In the truck.”
“Run out there and get it, sweetie,” said Madison.
Alex leaned in to whisper to her mother, “Mom, I don’t have that much money in my account. You do remember how much my allowance is, right?”
“Get it anyway. They’ll never know. Now, hurry. Run!”
As Alex scampered off, Madison turned to the clerk. “My daughter is going to get the checkbook.”
This brought roars of disapproval from the man behind her and several others, including a baby who was wailing uncontrollably.
“Get out of line!”
“Start over!”
“This is ridiculous!”
Madison tried to plead her case and buy time. “It’s not my fault that the credit card machine doesn’t work. My daughter will be right back. Just a moment more!”
The man behind her shoved his cart into Madison again. She was angry now.
Madison turned on the man and grabbed the front of his cart with both hands. “Stop hitting me with that cart!”
“Or what, lady?” he shouted back. “You’re a hundred and forty pounds soakin’ wet. What exactly are you gonna do, huh?”
Nothing, of course, but Madison was tired of being bullied by this crude guy. She was about to respond when one of the store managers appeared on the scene.
“What seems to be the problem here?” he asked.
“She ain’t got no money!” shouted one of the people in line.
“Yes, I do have money,” started Madison. “Your machine doesn’t work and my daughter just ran to the car to get the checkbook. She’ll be back any moment.”
“Hey, me beer’s gettin’ hot!” shouted bully boy behind her.
The store manager glanced at the man and his beer before addressing Madison. “Ma’am, perhaps we should have you step aside so that we can keep the line moving.”
Alex came running through the front entrance, holding the checkbook over her head.
“Here she comes. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to check out and leave now.”
Chapter 26
9 Hours
2:02 p.m., Septembe
r 8
Bank ATM
West End
Nashville, Tennessee
They had to force their way past the throng of new shoppers who were shoving their way into the store. Madison glanced down the aisles as they pushed their three heavy carts toward the exit. Large sections of the shelves were empty. The floors were littered with broken or damaged groceries. Many customers carried what they could, as available shopping carts were at a premium. She immediately conjured up images of countries that had recently experienced economic collapse like Venezuela.
“Hey, I need one of your carts,” said a man who followed them out of the store.
“Just a moment while we unload,” replied Madison, who immediately felt apprehensive about the man following them to their truck. Despite being in broad daylight, she imagined the man carjacking their truck and kidnapping them or worse.
As their Suburban came into view, she was actually relieved to see the small red Kia that blocked them in. At least the man following them couldn’t steal their truck. She’d figure out what to do with the offending KIA later.
The man, as it turned out, was a decent guy who wanted to secure a cart before going into the store. He needed diapers and formula for their newborn and knew he couldn’t carry much. He helped the women lay down the backseat and moved Alex’s golf clubs toward the front to make room for their groceries. He chatted briefly with her about golf and then was on his way. Madison closed the rear trunk lid and joined Alex inside. She immediately locked the doors, turned on the air conditioner, and caught her breath.
From their vantage point, they could see the melee, which best described the last senior shopping day to be held at Kroger for a long time. One woman, in a panic to pack her groceries into her small car, allowed her shopping cart to roll away, which included her kicking and screaming two-year-old. The cart almost crashed into a car that was waiting on her parking space. A Good Samaritan made the rescue, but unceremoniously lifted the two-year-old out, pointed her in the direction of the distraught mother, and ran into the store, pushing the cart to its limits.