“I’ll meet you at the cabin,” Van exclaimed.
Nicki put the Suburban in gear and drove to the cabin. Once there, they all stepped out of the vehicle, looked around, and took a deep breath. Being at ZP brought piece of mind and a feeling of safety and security. They were tired but excited to be ‘home’.
“Well, sir,” Oz said to Van. “We ran into a few issues. Can you give me a hand? The first thing we need to do is move my father into the building.”
“Boys, it’s Oz,” Van stated to the group of men who were again surrounding the Suburban. “You can stand down. He’s one of us and you can trust him. Give them a hand and get that stuff inside.”
“When we have a few minutes, I’ll introduce you to my kinfolk,” Van said. “When the power went out, they all came running to my house. Who would have ever thought this poor old coot would be the savior of the family,” he said with a quick laugh.
“Van?” Oz asked as he looked around the property. “Any sign of Brian, Elizabeth, or BJ?”
“Nope, not seen hide nor hair of them,” Van replied as he spit a dark brown liquid on the ground and continued. “You’ve had a few visitors the last few weeks here on your property. We’ve had to forcefully encourage several groups to leave. You’d be amazed at what a shotgun and a banjo can do to city folk. They tend not to stick around too long.”
“Thanks, Van” Oz said with appreciation. “We’ll return the favor and you know we’re always there for you.”
“I know you are,” Van said, patting Oz on the shoulder.
“One more thing,” Oz said with a smile. “I’ll give you a pint of moonshine if you and your family help me put the 40-foot radio tower up in the morning. Randall and I can’t do it alone.”
Oz took out a pint jar of moonshine from a tote in the Suburban and handed it to Van.
“No need to ask me twice,” Van snickered as he unscrewed the lid on the mason jar, sniffed it, and took a quick drink. “Apple Cinnamon. Moonshine wasn’t meant to taste like apples and cinnamon, but it will do.”
Oz gave a quick laugh and asked, “What are you hearing these days about what happened?”
Van scratched his face and pulled at his beard before answering.
“It’s all over the board,” he began. “Heard the Chinese were involved, and for that matter the North Koreans may have shot off a missile. Not really sure about that. The military would have seen any inbound missiles, not to mention that we would have a decent chance at shooting them down. Also heard one feller say that the top-secret weather machine in Alaska was hacked and used against us. Imagine that, a government technology used against its own people.”
“It’s definitely all over the board,” Oz replied. “I don’t think it was just one thing. I think it was two attacks—one affecting anything tied to the grid and the other affecting everything not directly connected to it. My plant was definitely hit with a cyberattack. There was no disguising it. Then, the power went out and anything with electronics failed. That part I think was an airburst EMP of some type.”
“Interesting theory, but it doesn’t matter anymore,” Van exclaimed. “Survival is all that matters. And with survival, it means taking care of your family and friends. We need to rely on each other, Oz. You know that, right?” Van said as he looked directly at Oz.
Oz extended his hand to shake Vans, smiled, and affirmed, “The moment I met you was the moment I knew I could trust you; we have your back and I know you’ll have our back.”
18
5 UNITED
Brian, Elizabeth, Luke, Max, and BJ left the cabin once it was completely dark and the team was united in the plan, route, and focus to get to ZP. After what they had all just gone through, they would not stop for anything until they were safely at their Kentucky stronghold.
The Tregor’s bug out cabin was literally due north of ZP and meant they would have to travel south for four hours, assuming there was no trouble, before reaching the cabin and hopefully the McTateys.
The trip would consist mostly of back roads with the most challenging aspect being the ability to cross the Ohio River. Once at the Ohio River, there were two options of crossing: the towns of Metropolis or Brookport, Illinois.
Metropolis was the main thoroughfare for Highway 24 whereas Brookport had the smaller, less traveled Highway 45. The Baba Yaga route that they had used to get to the cabin would be used to continue their journey to ZP. The route took them through Brookport which was an hour away, over the Ohio River, and then three more hours to ZP.
They all piled into the HUMVEE and the diesel engine came to life. Brian drove down the drive and before turning onto the highway to Brookport, stopped the vehicle. Although they had used more diesel fuel than expected to get to the cabin, Brian felt it was still important to maintain the cover of night. The HUMVEE was camouflaged in color and very difficult to see at night. However, the headlights could easily be seen for miles. He had a plan for this.
“Are you sure about this?” Elizabeth asked Brian.
“No, I’m not, but we both know it’s the right thing to do,” Brian answered.
Brian pulled out a set of military night vision goggles. They weren’t cheap and were hard to come by, but he was glad he purchased them at a gun show several years earlier. Brian slipped the headband over his head and adjusted the straps. He flipped the optics down and they came to rest near his eyes. He powered the unit on and the night lit up. He reached down and turned the HUMVEE headlights off. Everything in front of them and around them went dark.
With the headlights turned off and the vehicle completely engulfed by the night, Elizabeth asked, “I can’t see a thing. It’s pitch black. How’s your vision?”
“Good,” Brian answered. “I’ll have to drive much slower than normal, but we should be undetectable minus the noise of the engine. I have a good view of the road.”
On a good day, the HUMVEE was lucky to push 55 miles per hour, but at night, with no lights, and the driver wearing night vision goggles, they would be lucky to go 35 miles per hour.
INSTEAD OF THE trip taking one hour, it took two, but the Tregors and BJ eventually made it to Brookport. Brian scanned the area and pulled onto a forest service road. They were about two miles from town and four miles from the bridge. Brian needed to know what they were driving into and be as prepared as he could.
“BJ, Luke, refuel the HUMVEE,” Brian began. “I’m going to walk up the road and scout. Don’t follow me; stay with the HUMVEE. If you hear gunshots, get in and drive. No matter what happens, drive to ZP and don’t stop. I should be no more than an hour. I’ll walk for 30 minutes and then turn around.”
He checked for his Springfield XDM and extra magazines before getting out of the vehicle to begin his reconnaissance.
BJ AND LUKE were exhausted and knew there was no use questioning him. They simply nodded, jumped out of the HUMVEE, and began to refuel the vehicle.
BRIAN TURNED AND began walking down the highway. He kept close to the tree line knowing that concealment was still the key to survival, even at night. The walk was relatively easy given that the highway they were traveling on had started at about 2,200 feet above sea level and, over the span of fifteen miles, descended to the town of Brookport at 340 feet above sea level.
Brian walked about twenty minutes before he stopped and was able to make out the outline of the town and even the outline of the bridge. Brian had the advantage of being at a higher elevation than the town, and though it was a challenge to make out any details, wearing the night vision goggles allowed him to make out enough detail to know that Brookport was still occupied. He could see lit candles and other various types of primitive lights scattered throughout the town.
As he stared past the town toward the direction of the bridge, he could see fires burning near or on the bridge. It was hard to make out, but he guessed that the bridge was secured which meant that driving over it could pose problems. He lifted the night vision goggles from his eyes and rubbed his chin. The only o
ption was to drive toward the town and bridge and hope for the best. Going back wasn’t an option. Brian knew that wasn’t exactly a plan, but there wasn’t another choice.
He turned and walked back to the HUMVEE. About 30 minutes later he was surprised to see that he was being held at gunpoint by BJ and Luke.
Realizing it was his dad, Luke exclaimed, “You know the communication protocol. You call in your position before you come into camp; in this case, our HUMVEE. It’s night Dad, we need to stick to protocol. We could have shot you.”
“You’re right Luke,” Brian said with frustration. “I was preoccupied. I was weighing our options, but you’re correct. I should have called in ahead of time. Won’t happen again.”
“So, Tango one,” BJ said. “What’s the plan?”
“From here, we drive straight to the bridge and hope we can cross,” Brian answered. “I don’t know of another way to cross. We’re three hours from ZP and the only thing separating us is the Ohio River. Let’s make it happen.”
The three loaded into the HUMVEE and were settling in when Brian turned and spoke to the group, “Full gear: helmet, vest, radios, and weapons check. Now!”
As the group readied themselves, Brian turned to Elizabeth and said, “Put Max in the back between BJ and Luke.” Turning to BJ and Luke, he continued, “Remember, we all have a window we can fire out of if it gets bad. Luke, BJ, you also need to cover the back, if needed. Stay alert. We have one shot at this.”
Brian flipped his night vision goggles down, started the HUMVEE, and turned onto the highway. Fifteen minutes later, the HUMVEE approached the outskirts of town. Brian stopped and exited the vehicle. He jumped on top of the hood and peered toward the city one last time.
It appeared as if the road to the bridge was clear and looked to be a quick drive. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but knew that most people would be sleeping. He felt comfortable that with the HUMVEE lights off, the diesel engine would be the only indication that a vehicle was passing through.
He jumped off the HUMVEE hood and back into the driver’s seat. He drove the HUMVEE slowly through town in order to keep the engine noise down. As they drove, they saw a once flourishing town turned into an eyesore with trash overflowing in the streets. Feral cats were everywhere and they even passed a pack of dogs devouring a carcass of some type. There were occasional lights flickering from windows, but never the presence of humans.
THEY CONTINUED TO travel through the heart of the city; always keeping alert. They were about a quarter mile from the turnoff to the bridge when Brian stopped again. He had a clear view of the bridge.
“Elizabeth, Luke, Randall, stay alert while I scan the bridge one last time,” Brian stated.
Brian scanned the bridge and could see barricades on the entrance and exit ramps. The barricades appeared to be barrels of some type.
“Maybe water barrels?” he thought to himself.
As he scanned the area, he could see two people at the entrance of the bridge. They were sitting in chairs behind the barrels and huddled around a fire.
“Looks like two men,” he spoke out loud. “Not sure if they’re with the other two men on the opposite end of the bridge. I don’t see any radios so I’m not sure if they’re able to communicate with one another.”
Brian looked to Elizabeth and said, “Scan the radio and see if we can pick up any transmissions.”
Elizabeth put her Baofeng™ radio on scan mode and listened for several minutes before saying, “Nothing yet; I’ll let you know if I pick up anything.”
“Any recommendations?” Brian asked as he sat back down in the driver’s seat.
No one said a thing and they all simply shook their heads side to side.
“Onward then,” Brian said.
AS THEY APPROACHED the entrance to the bridge, Brian could see the two men stand and begin looking for the noise of an approaching vehicle. Although they couldn’t see the HUMVEE, they definitely heard it.
“Stop,” BJ said in an excited voice. “Don’t approach yet. We’re in a HUMVEE and all wearing the same camouflage military uniform. We all have the same equipment and not to mention we’re wearing PASGT military helmets— Army excess inventory. We all look the same.”
“I’m not following you BJ,” Brian said. “What are you saying?”
With a smile across his face, BJ explained, “If we’re careful, we can make them think we’re in the military; the Army.
“We’ll cover Max with a tarp. There’s a camouflage one in the back. Elizabeth, you sit back here with Max and Luke. I’ll drive the HUMVEE and Brian you sit in the passenger seat. I remember when Dad was in the Navy, he had a driver and he always sat in either the passenger seat or the back of the vehicle. Brian, we need to make them think you’re in charge; not Elizabeth.”
“It’s worth a shot,” Brian smirked.
Without exiting the vehicle, they all changed places.
BJ placed the night vision goggle straps over his PASGT helmet. They all truly looked as if they were members of a military unit. BJ slowly approached the entrance of the bridge, prompting the two men to raise their rifles.
“Brian, you and I need to approach them together,” BJ suggested. “If Max wakes up, it could ruin the rouse, not to mention they’ll probably question all of us. If we don’t have the right answers, we’re in trouble. I know a little military jargon from my dad’s active duty days, so let me cover the questions if I can.”
Brian shook his head in agreement.
WITH THEIR HANDS in the air, Brian and BJ approached the two men.
“My name is Corporal McTatey and this is Major Tregor of the Kentucky Army National Guard,” BJ began. “We’re from the 1st Battalion, 123rd Armored Regiment. We need to pass to rejoin our unit. We were in Washington when the EMP hit and were just given orders to return to our base. We’re on a humanitarian mission.”
Brian observed that both men looked to be well fed and taken care of. They wore mismatched camouflage hunting clothes and off-brand hiking boots. One man was tall, about 6’4” and the other man short, about 5’6”. So far, they had not tried to contact or alert anyone and appeared to be calm, almost relieved at seeing these two men in front of them who appeared to be from the Army.
“So, tell us what happened,” the short man insisted. “Why don’t we have power?”
“We were hit by an Electromagnetic Pulse,” Brian said. “It was a high-altitude burst that killed power across the United States. As Corporal McTatey mentioned, we were in Washington for training when the event happened. We need to return to our unit and hope there’s still something left of it.”
“It’s been weeks since the EMP and we haven’t seen one military person,” the tall man added. “How come?”
“We’re living examples of why,” Brian replied and slowly walked toward the two men. “It caught us off guard. To be honest, and it’s hard to admit, but we didn’t see it coming. It’s taken us six, seven—hell I don’t remember how long now—regardless, it’s taken us weeks to get organized. What I can tell you is that all branches of the military are now organized and aid is on its way.”
The two men looked at one another and slowly lowered their rifles.
“When can we expect help and when will the power be on?” the short man asked.
“The Army Corp of Engineers is being deployed as we speak to restore power,” BJ answered. “You’ll have to have patience because it will take time. But help is on its way. As far as food and medical help, well, I’m not sure. We’re only connected with the Army Corp of Engineers who will restore the power.”
“When will they get to us?” the short man asked again.
“Not sure,” Brian said. “Once again, I know help is coming, but I’m not sure of when you’ll get power back. Now, if you don’t mind, we need to get back to our unit immediately. We have entire towns that need our help.”
The short man pointed to the end of the bridge and waved his hand in a motion that suggested they could pro
ceed.
Brian and BJ turned, and with a brisk pace walked back to the HUMVEE.
Somewhat relieved, Brian asked, “How in the heck did you come up with the story about being in the 1st Battalion, 123rd Armored Regiment?”
BJ pointed to a sign that was 100 feet behind them that read:
Welcome to Kentucky
Home of the Kentucky Army National Guard
1st Battalion, 123rd Armored Regiment
Brian immediately began to laugh but knew he would have to wait to celebrate. They needed to get across the bridge first.
BJ accelerated the HUMVEE forward when he saw one of the men wave a flashlight with an orange cone. It appeared that he was signaling someone; maybe the two men at the end of the bridge. As they passed the two men, the tall man waved his hand signaling for them to stop.
He approached the HUMVEE and peered in the driver’s side window. He looked at each of them before asking, “If there’s anything you can do to move us up on the priority list, it would sure be appreciated.”
“I understand,” Brian said. “If we can get you moved up, we will.”
Just then, Max began to wake up and said, “Hi, Nana.”
BJ continued to drive the HUMVEE forward when he looked in the rearview mirror and saw a puzzled look on the tall man’s face. The man crossed his arms and his foot began bouncing off the highway. He was nervous.
“Hey,” the tall man yelled to the short man. “What branch of the military were they in?”
“Army National Guard,” the short man replied.
“The one feller was a Corporal and the other a Major,” the tall man recalled. “Did you see their rank insignias anywhere?” He paused for a few seconds and then answered his own question by exclaiming, “Now that I think about it, I didn’t see any patches on the uniforms at all.”
The E.M.P. Chronicles (Book 2): A Life Without Power Page 9