Inception of Chaos: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Story

by Holden, J. J.

  David sat, stunned. It was perhaps the most Orien had ever said at once in their time working together, and certainly the most open and personal he’d been. Why he was opening up just then, David didn’t know. Perhaps it was just that Orien was happy at the prospect of going back to Denver.

  And suddenly, David knew. He couldn’t leave, not yet. Orien had been right, David realized, that he did need to make a difference, and he did need to help the helpless. If he left at that moment, he’d be turning his back on Christine and her family, in their time of need, but also on the whole little town. Here, he could make a difference to the community—the entire community.

  “Actually…”

  Orien froze. “Actually, what?”

  David paused, considering his words carefully, but in the end, he decided just to be honest, like Orien had been with him. “I have to stay. Not forever, certainly, because this isn’t my home. But…for a while. I want to go home, but I can’t turn my back on these people. I just…I can’t.”

  Orien didn’t respond. He turned to look out his window, away from David, and bit his fingertips in silence.

  “You aren’t trapped here,” David added. “You can take my car and head back, if you feel like you need to. No hard feelings, if you do. Just let me know.”

  Still, his partner remained silent. Well, David couldn’t blame Orien for being upset, but he couldn’t ask that from anyone. Orien had to do what his conscience dictated, and David would take it in stride whatever Orien did, though he hoped his partner stayed.

  And yet… If Orien was so upset he wasn’t speaking anymore, was it the right choice at all? It felt right, but feelings were often the worst thing on which to base a big decision. They often tricked folks into doing what they wanted, rather than doing what they should. It was a troubling thought.

  To clear his mind and distract himself from troubled thoughts, he turned left just inside town, rather than heading to either the excuse for a city hall or Fran’s house. Maybe a quick patrol of the town would give him time to sort through his feelings and options.

  A couple David remembered seeing at a town hall meeting walked along a sidewalk, and when they spotted the patrol car, they waved and their faces lit up into smiles. David waved back, without taking his hand off the steering wheel.

  An elderly man on his front porch waved, too, smiling.

  As David drove slowly through town, he noted that time after time, the people they saw recognized him and waved. And with each wave or smile, his confidence in his decision to stay—just for a while—grew stronger.

  After half a dozen waves, he glanced over at his partner and saw that Orien no longer bit his fingertips. His frustrated expression had changed, morphing into something deeply contemplative. It would have been nice to be able to read his partner’s thoughts, just then. Was he doubting his earlier conviction about going home, like David was?

  David drove on, and each time he waved back to someone new, his conviction grew. He was staying, and it was the right choice.

  For the time being, at least.

  32

  Christine sat curled up on the living room couch with a mug of instant coffee clutched in both hands, staring at the empty fireplace. Beside her, Hunter and Darcy sat, while Fran stood nearby with her arms crossed. Wiley lounged in the recliner. The room was eerily silent as all four of them pointedly stared at Christine.

  Just as pointedly, she ignored them, trying not to fidget under their scrutiny. The mug in her hands helped with that, fortunately.

  At last, Wiley broke the tense silence. “So, what are you going to do?”

  Like a dam bursting, flooding words downstream, Fran said, “She’s staying here, that’s what. Cobi is a damn fool if he thinks he can tell me who to let in my house, unless he wants to pay my mortgage. Oh, that’s right, I don’t have one—I paid cash for this place, unlike him in that McMansion of his.”

  In a quiet voice that shook with emotion, Darcy said, “Is it real? We got exited?”

  Hunter put his hand on Darcy’s, on her lap. “Exiled, not exited.”

  Fran scoffed. “Not much difference.”

  But as Christine watched the fear, uncertainty, and doubt play out across her daughter’s face, she felt an ember spark into life, deep in her gut. Who did Cobi think he was? Some legal loophole they’d never bothered to write out of the town charter decades ago, because everyone knew it was bullcrap and would never sit for it…what in the hell did that have to do with today?

  Well, that was the thing. Today was a different time. Everyone was hungry and afraid, and that let cretins like Cobi sneak in and boss folks around.

  Fran must have seen the shift in Christine’s expression, because she asked, “What are you thinking, Chrissy?”

  The ember grew, from a hot coal to a tiny flame, one that rapidly grew as Christine remembered the smug smirk on that bastard’s face. She leveled her gaze at Fran and said, “Kids, get your shoes on. We’re going to that stupid town hall, and we’re going to end this charade. And when I’m done with him, Cobi will be lucky to be in charge of counting expired postage stamps, but he’s done being in charge of human beings’ lives.”

  Fran grinned, while Wiley nodded with narrowing eyes. Darcy’s eyes went wide a split second before she leaped up to grab her shoes.

  Hunter wore his, already. He said, “Can you do that? We’re exiled. Will he even let you talk?”

  Christine snorted. “Let me? He can’t stop me.”

  Fran grabbed Christine’s flannel overshirt and held it out. “There’s my daughter, the one I raised. Go shove your new spine straight up his—”

  “The kids, Mom.” Christine grinned as Fran’s cheeks reddened. She took the offered flannel, and then hurried out the door with her kids.

  Wiley scrambled to grab his jacket and catch up, then walked a bit behind without commenting.

  Christine didn’t look back directly, though. She focused on keeping her head high, and when they got to the town hall, she flung the door open and strode inside.

  Within, most of the faces she saw were townies, those who lived inside the small town rather than in one of the outlying farms. Cobi stood at the podium, and spotting Christine, he froze mid-sentence, mouth open. Heads turned among the crowd, and a whispered buzz spread through the dozen people clustered up by the podium, then faded out.

  Christine approached and held her gaze locked on Cobi’s eyes. Her family was at stake, though, so she worked on turning her fear into anger. This was for her kids… Into the booming silence, she said, “Cobi, you want to use some decades-old forgotten rule to kick me out? Then what? Who else gets kicked out for disagreeing with you?”

  “You can’t be here,” he said, hesitating with each word. His eyes clicked around the room, and he grabbed the back of his neck with one hand.

  “It seems you’re wrong,” Christine replied. “The reason that rule never got enforced is that it’s unconstitutional. And you know it.”

  His face lost a couple shades, growing pale. “I… It doesn’t matter. You can take that up with the courts in—”

  “No.” Christine’s single word cut him off.

  He looked around the audience, probably seeking supporters.

  Spineless weasel… Christine continued, “No, you can call the County Sheriff to enforce it. How about that?”

  She stood, in the storm of silence, staring at Cobi, daring him in her mind to say something, anything. Unless he wanted to physically remove her—and good luck with that, punk—she was staying. Her kids were staying, more importantly.

  Seconds ticked by, and Christine fought a savage grin as Cobi stood at the podium, impotent.

  Then, a husky man in a red flannel shirt and jeans stood and turned. Heads turned to face him, but his eyes were locked on Christine’s. “Missy, I don’t figure we need to call anyone to handle this. I know the stories, how you left.”

  “So? I—”

  “Now you want to come back when times get hard? No,
ma’am.”

  “That’s not up to you, and—”

  “Cobi heads the homeowner’s association, and it runs this town, not you. Not that Fran.”

  Christine felt goosebumps rising on her arms and neck at the man’s tone, the way he’d said her mother’s name. Like a pit viper about to strike. His face was reddened, and he stood rigid, clenching and unclenching his hands. She could feel the menace, even from twenty feet away.

  She couldn’t back down, though. She’d come, made a scene, and now she had to see it through. Thank God Wiley was there, standing beside her. Christine steeled herself and said, “Mister, all you heard was stories. Tales. They have nothing to do with this, though. You don’t have to like me, but you do have to deal with me. I’m staying.”

  “Is that so?” He stepped between two others to move closer. A couple other men stood, as well—and a couple of the women. His expression was as ugly as theirs.

  The door banged open, and she damn near jumped out of her skin in surprise.

  Before she could turn, David’s strong voice rang, booming and yet quiet, somehow. “Do not move. Step back. Do it now. Move!”

  The man in front stepped backward into a couple others, eyes locked onto the cop, pupils flaring to consume the irises. His voice shook as he said, “Officer. We were…”

  David finished for him. “Back off. Town rules are one thing, but you will not commit assault while I’m here. I’ll cuff you and stuff you so fast your nose will bleed, and you can cool off in Denver, waiting for a trial date. How does that sound? Pleasant?”

  “But Denver’s dangerous—”

  “Yes. It is.” David stepped slightly in front of Christine and stood erect, his hands resting on his duty belt, oozing a sense of calm control. Without taking his eyes off the hooligan ringleader, he said, “Cobi, you wouldn’t be condoning felony assault, would you? I know you aren’t colluding in a conspiracy to commit a felony. Right?”

  “I…” Cobi paused and took a deep breath. His voice was clearly shaking when he said, “Okay, folks. I think that’s enough for one day. Temperatures are high, and I think we just need to take a break, cool off.” He tapped his gavel on the podium. “Meeting dismissed, and I’m closing up the hall. Time to go, people.”

  Christine stood, stunned. That weasel really was spineless. He was taking the cop-out approach, not even addressing the elephant in the room. Probably, he hoped the problem would just go away by itself. But he clearly had zero intentions of challenging David in full-blown Cop Mode.

  David said, “Miss Simmons, take your children and go home. The mayor has decided the meeting is adjourned, and there’s nothing more you can do here, today.”

  She found herself nodding and moving toward the door before she realized what she was doing. That voice of authority he used, it worked… She grabbed her kids and scuttled through the door, hearing David inside directing the others to use the side door out.

  Once outside, Hunter planted his feet, and Christine, still moving, lost her grip on his hand. She stopped and turned around, only to find him standing with his feet shoulder-width apart, arms crossed.

  Darcy let go of her hand and scurried over to stand beside him, joining him in staring at Christine.

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake. What now?” Christine pursed her lips. Her kids were her whole reason for this, but kids would be kids—they didn’t understand things the way adults did, and it was why they weren’t allowed to just raise themselves. “Do not look at me like that, young lady.”

  Hunter said, “Leave her alone, Mom. What you did back there, it was dangerous.”

  She almost rolled her eyes, but caught herself. Kids deserved to be taken seriously, even if their advice was rarely used. It taught them their value, demanding respect as adults down the road. “Okay. Why do you say that?”

  His eyes widened. “What do you mean, why? Did you see that guy? He was bigger than Wiley, for sure. What if the cops hadn’t shown up? He could have hurt you. Or what if he’d hurt Darcy? I can take care of myself, but she wouldn’t stand a chance against a guy that big.”

  Neither would Hunter, but Christine decided not to feed into his fire by saying so. “Son, sometimes you just have to stand up to injustice. That guy could have been dangerous, or maybe he was all talk. But either way, if we got kicked out, we’d have to go back to Denver, and that’s far more dangerous than some ticked-off man in a town hall meeting. That’s guaranteed danger, not potential risk.”

  Darcy looked up at Hunter, clearly waiting for him to tell her what to think, and Christine’s lips flatlined. She was just about fed up with this charade, but she wasn’t quite ready to pull the “I’m the grown-up” card on them, yet.

  Hunter paused, considering, then said, “Mom, staying here is guaranteed danger. We don’t know what Denver is really like, but we do know they have some kind of order there. The cops didn’t run from there—they had enough cops to send some out. Maybe we’d be safer there, not—”

  Christine had officially had enough of that conversation. Her son was old enough to still think he knew everything, and too young to know a damn thing in truth. “Stop. That’s enough. I know you were scared in there, but they had to see the real faces they were throwing to the wolves. Maybe you didn’t notice, but most of them just sat there. They don’t think what Cobi did was right, or they’d have stood up, too.”

  “But, Mom—”

  “No buts. We are staying at your nana’s, and that’s final. When it is safe to leave, then we will. Not a moment later—and not one second sooner.” If only they could feel what she was feeling, she mused. If they felt her terror at the thought of leaving this island of safety, they wouldn’t be so cocky and sure. But she’d raised good kids, and Hunter wasn’t afraid to stand up for what he thought was right. Once he had some age to gather up a bit of wisdom, he was going to be a fine man, someday.

  She felt herself smile at him, and when his expression shifted, she hastily added, “I love how strongly you hold your convictions. You just don’t know everything I know about what’s going on out there, because I haven’t told you. It’s not something you need to worry about, because here, we’re safe. And here, we’re staying. Now, come on and let’s go home.”

  Hunter didn’t budge, but Darcy, after looking back and forth between them, trudged over to her mom. Hunter seemed to deflate, then. He nodded, faintly, and shoved his hands in his pockets before walking toward her.

  On the walk home, the kids fell behind a little, but Christine kept her eye on them to ensure they stayed close enough. Wiley walked beside her, so far utterly silent.

  As Fran’s house came into view, though, he said, “I have to tell you, your kids are awesome. They’re good kids, you know? I think they’re wonderful. And smart. And that means that they’ll come around, eventually. You don’t need to worry about that.”

  Christine felt her heartbeat slow. His words comforted her, somehow, like he’d instinctively known what she needed to hear. They thought she was too controlling, but Wiley seemed to get it—she was just protecting them. She smiled wanly at him. “Thanks. You’re good with kids. You never had your own family?”

  He shook his head, as they walked up the driveway. “Nah. They remind me of my sister—”

  His voice cut off, like his throat had tightened up to choke the words. As her eyes roamed his face, she saw an odd, pained expression. She considered what to say, but they had reached the front door.

  Wiley opened it with a tad too much force, and bolted inside, disappearing into the kitchen as she waited for the kids to reach the patio, too.

  She turned to look for them, and spotted David and his partner, coming up the steps. She hadn’t heard them arrive, but she’d been preoccupied. “David. David’s partner. Thanks for earlier.”

  David’s eyes were focused on the open doorway. The kids arrived just behind him, and he waited for them to go inside.

  Once they were out of view, he said quietly, “I saw you watching Wiley.
It looked like he was throwing a tantrum. What was that about?”

  Christine paused. His expression was not very charitable, as he looked after Wiley. Already frustrated, the ember of anger in her gut grew a bit hotter. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. He went inside, that’s all.”

  David shrugged. “If you say so. I’m not saying this as a cop, but just as a concerned person—don’t let yourself and your kids get too close to a man like that. You don’t actually know him, and there’s something…just wrong. Something is off with that guy.”

  “I’ve known him longer than I’ve known you,” she blurted. She immediately regretted her words, as she had just painted herself into a corner where she had to defend a man she actually didn’t know that well. She didn’t know David and Orien, either, but at least she knew they were police officers.

  David’s expression grew pained. “I’m not telling you who to be friends with. You’re a grown woman. I’m just saying, be careful. You don’t know him like you seem to think you do.”

  After the stress of her confrontation with Cobi, a confrontation with the cops who’d protected her was not what she wanted. Christine let out a long breath, struggling to squash her irritation. “I know. And thank you for sharing your opinion, and for your help with Cobi’s idiot minions. But Wiley has a standing invitation from Fran to be here, and he helped us even before you did, with no promise of any reward. He’s here to stay, and he’s part of this group Fran’s gathered, just like you are. I suggest you get used to it. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to go check on my kids. They’re kind of rattled.”