by Bobby Akart
“Increased ultraviolet radiation will result in a variety of skin cancers, including the life-threatening melanoma,” replied Dr. Stanford as she continued to stare at the photographs. “For the eyes, cataracts are likely to develop, as well as conjunctiva, a malignant cell cancer. Then there is a suppression of our immune system. UV exposure will enhance the risk of infection and decrease the effectiveness of vaccines.”
“None of this is good,” interjected Jose.
As Dr. Stanford returned to the group, she walked up to the monitors and leaned over them. She studied the ever-changing numbers and the pulsating images of the sun.
She summed it up, taking a deep breath before speaking. “It will all depend on the speed of the second CME. Guys, now we have something else to watch. The first wave may knock us against the ropes—robbing us of our power, but the second wave may knock us out.”
Chapter 33
7 Hours
4:40 p.m., September 8
West End
Nashville, Tennessee
“I still think we should take the gun,” said Alex as Madison approached the intersection of Harding Pike. This portion of US 70 South stretching toward Bellevue was far less crowded than the White Bridge Road intersection a few miles closer to town.
“We don’t know how to use it, for one thing, and we won’t be long.” Madison inched forward as the traffic ahead of them moved through the green light. As Walgreen’s parking lot came into view on her left, she saw a line of cars stretching around the building. The drive-thru pharmacy window was overwhelmed.
But this turned out to be a blessing because other potential shoppers avoided the store on the premise that it was too busy. Unlike pharmacies of years past, Walgreen’s and their counterpart CVS had become more about selling sundries and household items and less about dispensing prescription medications.
They parked the Suburban and walked briskly across the parking lot. By 4:30, the sun had heated up Nashville to one hundred one degrees, which was another record if such things were worthy of discussion on a day when the Sun planned on dealing a death blow to the planet. They dashed between two of the cars standing in line and entered the store, finding it surprisingly empty.
Alex immediately noticed the cash only, no checks sign and brought Madison’s attention to it. Figures. They’d scraped together every piece of loose change in the house. Alex had even retrieved a twenty-dollar bill out of her golf bag, which was there for emergency money. With their seven-hundred-and-eighty dollars, the two shoppers would have to be frugal. The big-ticket items, if they were available, would be found at their next two stops.
Madison produced the list and the two got to steppin’. Personal hygiene and additional overlooked grocery items were the top priority. Madison grabbed more vitamin and nutritional supplements. Finally, she grabbed a couple of boxes of Walgreen’s Stay Awake Caffeine tablets. The three of them would have to establish a round-the-clock security rotation. Caffeine could help them stay awake until their bodies adjusted to the midnight shift.
While Alex was checking out, Madison ran back to the pharmacy counter and found three last minute items—a digital thermometer, an inexpensive blood pressure unit, and a glucose monitor. The last item, oddly enough, came to mind when she saw the pool water-testing equipment. Their eating and sleeping habits would change dramatically. She thought it might be a good idea to monitor their blood sugar.
She added the items to the pile and Alex held up several packages and asked, “What are these?”
“Mylar blankets,” replied Madison.
“They look like aluminum foil. Are they like the balloons?”
“Same material, but they’ll keep us warm if we get stuck out somewhere. People put them in their medical kits.”
Some of the other items Madison picked up were hand warmers, lighters, matches, two manual can openers, and some baby wipes.
“Your total is two hundred and seventeen dollars, fifty cents.”
Madison counted out eleven twenties and handed the money to the clerk. She noticed the store had filled up while they were shopping. Taking her change, she thanked the clerk and headed for the exits. Walgreen’s knocked out a big part of their list.
After they had loaded the SUV, Madison shot across the street to Hart’s Ace Hardware. The family-owned store had been a fixture in Nashville for nearly seventy years. Alex was a classmate with one of the Hart boys in grade school.
As she pulled into the parking lot, she glanced to the front of the building to confirm that they still had some standard, twenty-pound propane tanks used for most barbecue grills. She also hoped to find a more portable propane grill just in case mobility became necessary.
The store only had a handful of customers. A small retail hardware store was looked over by most of today’s frenzied shoppers. As she entered the store, she noticed the handwritten BROKEN sign taped to the credit card machine. She casually asked the clerk if she would accept a check since the machine was out of service. The answer was yes, and the items on Madison’s list just grew significantly.
“Outstanding, Alex. Let’s get started.”
Madison began to walk towards the outdoor living area in search of a camping grill when she suddenly stopped to ask the clerk a question. “Do you have any generators?”
“We only have one left. It’s a Generac Tri-Fuel for six hundred eighty-nine dollars.”
“Tri-fuel?” asked Alex.
“Triple fuel,” replied the clerk, adding, “they operate on gasoline, electricity and propane.”
Madison didn’t hesitate. “We’ll take it. Set it aside for us, and add two tanks of propane too. Okay?”
“You got it,” replied the young woman.
Madison and Alex both grabbed a cart and hustled toward their lawn and garden department.
“Good job, Mom.”
“Why, thank you! Now, let’s find something more portable to cook on.” They found a Camp Chef modular cooking system that provided two burners. Madison added a Wenzel three-person tent to the cart, and then sent Alex back up front for another cart.
They moved through the store and quickly added items on the list, and a few that were not, including a variety of knives. She found an Eton Solar Crank emergency radio, several styles of flashlights, and batteries to power them all. She also grabbed a solar charger that could handle smartphones, iPads, flashlights and other electronic devices.
The last two items, which the girls had to carry, were ten-gallon galvanized trash cans with lids. A roll of 3M aluminum tape finished off her list.
“Mom, really?” asked Alex, holding them up in each hand. “Are we going industrial with our home décor?”
“Ha-ha, very funny.” Madison laughed. “When we get home, I’ll show you. Your beloved iPod will thank me as well.”
A helpful ACE hardware man, unlike the more modern, politically correct ACE hardware person, arrived on the scene to help them check out. He escorted them to the parking lot to assist with the loading of the generator and other items into their truck.
After he closed the deck lid, Madison thanked him and then asked, “Do you know where Nashville Gun and Knife is located? It’s supposed to be close by.”
“It is,” he answered, “but it’s closed. They stopped by here as they were going out of town.”
“Out of town?” asked Madison.
“Yeah, they have a place on the Cumberland Plateau. They’re gonna ride out this solar storm over there.”
“Aren’t you worried about it?” asked Alex.
“Young lady, the Hart family has lived here for nearly a century. I’m seventy-eight years old. I’m not goin’ anywhere, and neither is this hardware store. If somethin’ happens, then we’ll just set us up the Hart Family Trading Post.”
The three of them laughed and Alex spontaneously hugged the man. They smiled at each other and he slowly walked back inside with his hands in his pockets, looking around the exterior of the store with pride.
“Mom, what did you plan on buying at the gun store?” asked Alex as the two entered the truck.
“I was gonna give it a try. You know, buy a used gun under the table, sort of.”
“It would’ve been worth a try.” Alex shrugged.
Madison was about to turn onto Harding Place, pleased with their haul, when she accelerated through the light instead.
“Hang on,” said Madison.
“Where are we going?”
“I’ve got an idea,” replied Madison, and she pulled into Phillips Toy Mart.
“Toys, really, Mom?” Alex started to thumb through her Facebook news feed.
“Just a hunch, wait here and lock the door. Also, pay attention.”
Madison jumped out of the truck and went inside. She approached a bored clerk, who was also scrolling through one of her social media accounts. To save time, Madison asked her if she had any toy guns or BB pistols.
Without looking up, the indifferent clerk pointed toward the rear of the store and said back wall. Madison found a wall section of Daisy and Crosman products. She bought a Crosman Airsoft rifle, which resembled an AR-15, and two Taurus PT-111 look-alike BB pistols. She didn’t bother with the BBs, as that was not the purpose of these tools.
On the way to the checkout, she grabbed some black model spray paint. Madison, frustrated at her inability to acquire real weapons, did the next best thing—she improvised. The BB guns she purchased were realistic replicas. With the spray paint, she could cover the distinctive bright orange muzzle tips if they couldn’t be removed altogether. If the situation arose, the Rymans could bluff their way out of a potentially deadly standoff.
Chapter 34
6 Hours
5:22 p.m., September 8
West End
Nashville, Tennessee
Things had gone too smoothly. Madison and Alex were very pleased with the items they picked up in the three stores. A little over an hour ago, they’d traveled this route from their house, past Belle Meade Country Club, and encountered very little traffic.
When she reached a Metro Nashville police officer, he refused to provide them an explanation and told her she’d have to turn around and find another way to her destination. Belle Meade Boulevard was closed. When Madison pressed him for more answers, he became angry and actually placed his hands on his service weapon. This frightened Madison, and she immediately maneuvered the Suburban into a three-point turn and headed back to US 70 South.
“This is stupid,” said Alex. “Our house is less than two miles from here. We have to go all the way around Belle Meade.”
“It is stupid, but I don’t know that we have a choice. It’s getting late, and I really wanted to get home and settled before dark. I’m sure your dad will be home soon too.” Madison pulled into the parking lot at Harding Academy and thought for a moment. She could go left a few miles and work her way around Percy Warner Park, then back up north on Hillsboro Pike. Or about a mile up, she could catch Woodmont Boulevard over to Green Hills and come down that way. They still had several hundred dollars available. There might be a store open that could add to their supplies.
“What’s the plan, Mom?”
“It’ll be shorter to go up and over,” she replied. “We’ll head back up to the scene of the crime and then take Woodmont over to Green Hills. Madison pulled out onto US 70 and navigated north toward the Kroger store where they had shopped earlier in the day. At the Belle Meade Boulevard entrance, several police cars blocked the road, and traffic came to a standstill as people rubbernecked the scene. Alex stretched her neck to look down the street.
“I see that yellow crime scene tape. It’s stretched across the road about one hundred and eighty yards down.”
As a talented golfer, Alex was very accurate on distances within three hundred yards. Madison followed the traffic and inched toward the Woodmont interchange. After twenty minutes, she realized she’d made a mistake and wanted to do a U-turn towards Percy Warner Park. But now the traffic on the southbound side was bumper-to-bumper. What a mess!
Madison was blocked in and couldn’t move. She decided a last stop in the Green Hills area was out of the question. She should’ve known—pigs get fat, hogs get slaughtered. At this point, she focused on getting them home safely. Lynnwood was just ahead. She’d turn right there and work her way through the neighborhoods to their house. Suddenly, her adventure was becoming a chore.
A young man startled Alex by beating on her window, causing her to shriek.
“Hey, ladies! How are you this fine day?” said another man, who was grabbing the roof rack of their truck and shaking it. Madison looked around and immediately wondered where they came from.
Her first reaction was to honk the horn. She wanted the cars in front of her to move so she could get away from the thugs. The loud blast had no effect on the surrounding vehicles, but it did seem to anger a third man who joined his friends. He was wearing a bandana as a mask around his mouth. The image on the bandana resembled a skull.
One of the men stood on the side rail and attempted to open the rear passenger door, causing Madison to panic. She lurched the Suburban forward, almost hitting the bumper of the Toyota in front of her. As she did so, the man on Alex’s side of the truck flew off onto the pavement and rolled into the curb.
Madison quickly weighed her options. She was blocked in on the left side, front and rear by cars—many of whom joined in the frustration by slamming on their horns. There was a three-foot-tall slave fence erected along the open field to their right, but it had withstood one hundred fifty years of traffic, from horses to vehicles.
First used by Scottish immigrants in the eighteenth century, slave fences sprouted up all over the country as a way of creating a barrier to hold livestock. If a farmer’s cattle got out and caused damages, they would be held liable. On a second offense, the farmer would have to pay double damages. They were built to last.
Madison was afraid to tear up the drivetrain or flatten a tire by ramming through it. Her only option was to bull her way down the shoulder, except for the fact that a lamppost stood in the way.
“Mom, what are we gonna do? They’re not leaving.”
“I don’t know, can you—”
But Madison was startled by one of the men, who used the tire to catapult himself onto the hood of their car. He began jumping up and down, waving his arms and hollering, “It’s the end of the world! The end is near! Woo-hoo!”
Now Madison was pissed. She threw the truck into reverse, and the man lost his balance, bounced on his back, and rolled off the hood of the Suburban to the ground. He tried to regain his balance and stand up, but fell against the trunk lid of the Toyota in front of them.
For the second time that day, Madison used her bumper. She slowly inched forward and pinned the man to the back of the Toyota. The Toyota driver rolled down his window and started waving his arms.
Now the hoodlums were frightened. They were running around the front fenders of the Suburban, banging on the hood of the SUV, shouting for Madison to back up.
“Mom! You’ll kill him!” Alex was frantic. She leaned up in her seat and looked over the hood at the man, who appeared to be losing consciousness.
“Why shouldn’t I?” asked Madison. Just as she was about to put the Suburban in reverse, the Toyota driver spun the tires and lurched forward, which unpinned the thug. He fell onto the pavement in a heap.
Traffic began to move and Madison laid on the horn once again. This time, the men helped their friend to the shoulder and propped him up against the fence. He wasn’t moving.
Madison gunned the accelerator and headed for the shoulder, frightening the two men, who jumped over the fence to safety. Madison had no intention of hurting them. It gave her one more opportunity to teach them a lesson.
Once she cleared the last lamppost, she drove two wheels on the pavement and two wheels on the grassy shoulder. She then roared onto Lynnwood Terrace towards the house.
She looked in the rearview mirror to make
sure nobody was following them. Alex looked frantically in all directions as well. They were in the clear, so Madison loosened her grip on the steering wheel.
“You know I was just kidding about the Thelma and Louise thing this morning, right?” asked Alex.
Madison ignored the question and gripped the wheel—doing fifty as she roared past the thirty-mile-per-hour sign on Westview Avenue. After a moment, she calmly asked, “Do you think I killed him?”
She’d lost track of how many laws she had broken that day.
Chapter 35
5 Hours
6:00 p.m., September 8
Oval Office, The White House
Washington
If the walls of the Oval Office could talk, the American people would have a much better understanding of how their government worked. A lot happened within the confines of the famous bowed walls designed at the request of President William Howard Taft in the early twentieth century.
Within the confines of the President’s personal workspace, domestic and foreign policy was reviewed, advisors were consulted, legislation was signed, and occasionally, events required the President to address the nation via television and radio.
In the two hours prior to the announced address, the President’s husband was flown in from Chappaqua on Long Island, the national security team was assembled, and advisors from across the entire governmental and political spectrum were summoned. The President was going to address the nation regarding the impending geomagnetic storm.
The conversations had become contentious several times. The national security and law enforcement advisors insisted upon full disclosure and an announcement of maximum readiness. The political and domestic advisors cautioned against unduly frightening the public, pointing to a mass suicide that occurred in South America earlier in the day by some religious zealots.
A compromise, of sorts, had been reached upon the suggestion of the President’s husband. A series of executive orders were drafted and executed by the President in anticipation of a worst-case scenario. The public, however, would be told a watered-down version of the potential impact AR3222 would bestow upon the nation later that evening. Prepare for the worst, without frightening Americans.