Commerce will be restricted to local bartering for those with few things of value. Trade will be for those allowed it. Commodities will be restricted and dispensed in small units by those who have. Food will become scarcer by the hour. It will be hoarded by the few and hunted by the many. Water, the vital source of life, will be more precious than oil and more prized than sacks of gold. Supplies will dwindle through fear and greed and bedlam.
Only the strong shall sustain. From the masses a mere handful of determined souls shall be fortunate enough, or determined enough, to survive.
All stores will be stripped of supplies, depleted of essentials, ransacked of every conceivable item. From food goods to daily supplies, from medicines to the last bag of grain, from TVs to the newest DVDs. Businesses will be shuttered and closed, but soon
destroyed by marauders intent on destruction for its own sake, and by those in search of hope.
Banks will be emptied of cash and coin. Vaults and drawers and trays cleared down to the last piece of copper. Paper dollars, once the most sought after of dear possessions, will be trumped by silver tenfold. And silver trumped by gold ten times again. Those with real coin will trade to survive. Those without will go without.
Churches and temples will be chained closed to those of faith and those praying for hope. Houses will be boarded or burned, raided and looted. Schools will become temporary prison quarters packed with once common citizens, parents of the children and teachers of the students. Camps and centers of the grandest scale in the most obscure and secret places will be overtly contained, guarded to hold those distrusted.
Hospitals and clinics, once havens of care and promise, will be shut to injured and sick. The injured and sick will slowly disappear as their ills are not met. Those seeking help will find none. Those offering help will be barred.
Lands will lay barren as if never touched. Farms will dry up into dust bowls never seen before. Crops will decay on their vines and stems. Lakes and rivers and streams, once jewels of the land, will be poisoned and made toxic.
Diseases long contained and cured will spread again and cover the land, leaving no one unscathed. Infections and unknown maladies will multiply and spread from the dead to most living beings. Those living will fester and spread to the rest, until few remain whole as before.
Ruthless gangs of criminals, intent on terror and revenge, will run unleashed. Mobs of youths and those of color once denied their chance, will scatter and right their social injustices. Desperate men, once kind and civil, will terrorize in search of sustenance as the streets become feared danger zones. Soldiers in mass squads of unknown origin will by force and violence enter the homes to clear those who remain and dispose of those who resist. And for their vigilance they will be promised great riches.
From shore to shore and wide boundaries to the north and south, an entire population, which through all recorded time had once reveled in comfort and wealth unrivaled throughout the world, will be decimated to a tiny fraction of its former self as catastrophe is thrust
upon them. Those left will be secured and monitored, enslaved and worked, confined and tortured, until it is no longer practical.
The few sorry survivors still free to roam and hide, chased by legions of paid warriors loyal to their fortunes, will silently join in battle against the evil makers of death. But they too will be crushed if divine righteousness abandons their souls.
And as the grand event continues, the bitter weather altered by science and maneuvered by man will hasten all by design and with a touch of sheer chance. Every person within the grand circle will soon believe in the concept of hell on earth. The fortunate ones who endure the event may wish they weren’t so lucky.
Chapter 6
The cold air blasted Cody like a solid brick wall. He looked at the empty street and moved toward the sidewalk. He was already freezing and flapped his arms against his sides. He smelled burning wood from nearby chimneys. Wisps of white smoke escaped his house chimney flue. To his right on the street corner he saw someone bundled against the freeze walking his way. The man waved at Cody and came closer.
“Thought that was you,” the man said.
“Didn’t recognize you with that coat and hat,” Cody said. It was Nick, his neighbor from three doors down the street. They weren’t exactly close friends, but they had run into each other several times ever since Nick and his family had moved into the neighborhood last summer. Mostly they simply waved at one another from inside their vehicles on their way to work or on their way home.
“Brutal weather, huh?” Nick said, his teeth chattering in the cold.
“Tell me about it,” Cody remarked. “Your phone working?”
“Nope, must have gone down during the blackout. My car won’t start either,” the man added. Nick was a contractor working for the Army on Fort Huachuca, the huge military intelligence base adjacent to the city. As far as Cody could figure, Nick was some kind of computer whiz who worked on high tech, secret government projects
well beyond Cody’s comprehension. He too had the long four day Thanksgiving week-end off from work.
“You and your family doing okay?” Cody asked him.
“They’re doing fine so far, as long as we have heat.”
Cody looked up and saw smoke rising from Nick’s fireplace chimney. Nick had twin daughters, Caitlin and Tanya, who were about six years old. Cody had seen them all dressed up in their cute costumes when they came by his house on Halloween. Their kids played together frequently.
“I stepped out to see if there was anybody moving out here. Haven’t seen nor heard a car drive by since yesterday afternoon,” Nick remarked. Some ice still covered the road and there were no recent tire tracks. It was odd not to see or hear any traffic driving through the neighborhood.
Cody nodded. “Something’s wrong. I can’t understand how everything could shut down at the same time. I mean, the phones and the cars should still work. We’ve had snow storms and cold spells here before. We’re at an elevation of nearly five thousand feet, so being in the high desert we can expect some bad weather on occasion, but I’ve never experienced anything like this.”
“I agree,” Nick said. “What baffles me is there’s no running water too. And no radio signals. That doesn’t just happen because of an arctic sweep.” Clouds of warm vapor escaped their mouths as they spoke. “There is one incident that could have caused this,” he added.
Cody stared at him in the sub-freezing conditions. “What do you think it is?”
“Well,” Nick began, “I can see the electricity going out. That’s not uncommon in weather like this. But since everything that seems to be affected is electrical, there has to be some sort of interference with electromagnetic components. You know, electric and phone service, car engines, even radio transmissions.”
“That sounds logical,” Cody said. “But how?”
The two men both wished they were in a warmer place, instead of standing on the roadside freezing their asses off. Nick started to explain what might have happened. “In today’s digital age nearly everything we rely on is controlled by computers. Try to think of one modern convenience that isn’t dependent on micro-chips and semi-
conductors. We’ve turned every aspect of our lives over to electrical devices and tiny silicon chips capable of handling billions of functions. Hell, even the old style hand-cranked pencil sharpener and can opener have gone electric.”
“So you think the computer systems that run everything have somehow failed because of this unusual weather?” Cody questioned.
Nick tried not to think of the worst possible scenario, but he knew the unlimited potential of complex computer systems. That was his job. He worked on super computers everyday developing networks and software that only a few years ago seemed farfetched and futuristic. Some of the advanced programs he’d seen would make recent science fiction movies look like children’s games. But he also knew of their weak spots.
“No,” Nick stopped for a moment. “I don�
��t think the weather has caused this problem. Not all of it, anyway. I think maybe it was an intentional event.”
Cody looked shocked. “You mean someone or some group may have caused this blackout on purpose? This whole thing is turning into a crisis. People’s lives could be at stake. Why in the world would someone do such a thing?” It was beyond his grasp that someone would, or could purposely instigate such a disaster.
Nick nodded his head. He knew what he was suggesting was a feasible, but unlikely possibility. Carrying such a test to this extent was almost unbelievable to him too. He threw his arms into the air. “I’m just saying it could be that. Maybe so, maybe not. No matter what, I can’t come up with any other explanation.”
He didn’t mention what he really thought, because it would be too terrible. Terrorism was still a major threat in the world, especially to the United States. Ever since the 9/11 attack the whole world had changed and America wore a big target on its back.
It was too cold to think straight. “It had better be fixed, whatever it is and by whoever caused it,” Cody said, his mouth almost useless at this temperature. He was unconvinced by Nick’s theory. That would never happen. Besides, he thought, to what end would it lead?
Cody dropped the conversation about unlikely plans to inflict pain on citizens of his small city. He turned his thoughts to the reason he was out in the cold in the first place. He was heading to the city’s police station. “Since there’s no way to communicate and it seems no
help is on its way,” he told Nick, “I’m going to the police to get some answers.”
“Mind if I come along? I want to know what’s really going on too.”
“Of course,” Cody said. “I’d welcome the company. But first I want to check in on Jack. See how he and his wife are doing. I told him last night I would stop by sometime today.”
Nick turned to look back at his house. “Okay, I want to let Lisa know where I’m going. I’ll meet you at Jack’s in a couple minutes.” Nick turned and walked toward his home.
Cody went straight to Jack’s front door. He almost reached for the doorbell again. Old habits. The smell of burning wood got stronger. But it smelled different as he was about to knock on the door. It had a more pungent odor than the prevalent smell of mesquite or juniper in the air. It reeked of the acrid scent of burning oil. He knocked on the solid door, waiting for the old man to answer. There was no sound. So he knocked again, this time a little bit harder. Still no response. The next time Cody removed the leather glove from his right hand and banged on the door with force.
He could smell the caustic smoke lingering near the doorway. Something was wrong. One more time he rapped on the door, then he tried the handle, but of course it was locked tight.
He called his neighbor’s name.
“Jack! Jack!”
Maybe the man was in the back bedroom and couldn’t hear him. Maybe he was sleeping. Whatever the reason, Cody was getting concerned. He looked through the front windows, but the drapes covered every inch, making it impossible to see inside.
Then he decided to do the crazy thing. He rammed the door with his shoulder, padded by his thick winter jacket. It barely budged. He hit it again and the frame cracked a bit. The smell of smoke seeped through the small fracture. One more time, with all his strength, he stepped back and slammed forward into the door, crashing it open.
A sudden wave of caustic smoke was quickly sucked out the open doorway nearly knocking Cody over. With a gloved hand he covered his mouth and nose the best he could and entered the dimly lit room. His eyes sprinted around looking for the fire. But there was none. Not in the front living room, anyway.
He called out again.
“Jack! Jack!”
There was only silence.
The smoke was thinning as it escaped. The smell was like that of a chemical fire. The house was as dark as night, accept for the faint light from the doorway. Each window was covered with heavy drapes
to seal out the daylight and cold. The inside was nearly as cold as the outside. Two barely lit candles rested in pools of melting wax.
“Jack! Edith! Where are you?” Cody continued to shout.
The house had two bedrooms, Cody remembered. One on either side of the main entrance. Cody opened the door to the left. It was even darker inside and contained a chilling freeze.
He called out again.
“Jack! Jack!”
Quickly moving inside the room he found the bed and felt around, but it was empty. Then he turned and ran across the house to the second bedroom.
That door was locked. A visible stream of smoke was oozing under the door’s threshold gap. In one fell charge Cody kicked the hollow core door back. The room was filled with smoke making it difficult to see the furniture. The scathing smoke made him gag and he almost threw up from natural reflex. Moving farther inside with his arms extended he touched something soft. Bed covers. Then he felt something solid, like a person’s leg or foot covered with blankets. Immediately he went to the window and yanked the drapes back to let some light in.
Some of the layered smoke swept out the open bedroom door. Cody’s eyes were stinging and tearing from the poison. His throat was gasping for clean air. He could not believe what he was seeing. Lying on the bed were Jack and Edith.
“Cody! Cody!” He heard a voice from the other side of the house. It almost startled him to death. Then he realized it was Nick.
“In here, Nick. In the bedroom.”
Nick entered the second bedroom and saw the two old people in their bed. “Oh, no!” he mumbled. “Oh, no!”
Cody wiped his burning eyes with the back of his hand and coughed. “Jack,” he whispered. “Edith.” He removed his other glove, reached over and touched Jack’s neck in hopes of feeling a pulse, but
it was too late. The old man’s lips were a dark blue, his eyes were closed. Then Cody did the same to poor Edith. The skin on her neck was cold and rigid. Her lips were a deep purple. Her eyes were also closed, as if she were sleeping comfortably.
“I’m no expert, but I’d guess that she’s been dead for some time now,” Cody said to Nick. “Longer than Jack.”
Jack’s body was lying cuddled up close to his dear wife, their faces nearly touching. A small pillow rested awkwardly against Edith’s forehead. Cody immediately thought, Jack, what have you done?
Several blankets and a heavy quilt had been tucked around her in loving comfort. Jack’s left arm was wrapped around his wife in a lasting hug as they drifted off together toward a better life.
“Christ.”
Cody looked around the room. Sitting on the floor on the other side of the bed was a kerosene lantern; the kind often used outdoors, its wick still burning, its stained glass flue still spewing deadly smoke. Nick went to the lantern and turned the brass knob to extinguish the flame.
Cody noticed something crunched in Jack’s outstretched hand. A white tag, a small piece of paper.
“He’s holding something,” Cody said to Nick.
“Leave it,” Nick said, nervous just being in a room with two dead people.
“No,” Cody whispered.
He took Jack’s frigid hand and gently unclenched it. Cupped in his neighbor’s thin, wrinkled palm was a key with a scrap of white paper taped to it. Cody removed the key and moved Jack’s hand back to Edith’s side. Cody’s name was written on it. He looked confused and glanced up at Nick.
“What do you think this goes to?”
Nick shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.
“Must be important,” Cody remarked. “Maybe it goes to a cabinet or closet.”
“Did he have a safe?” Nick asked.
Cody had no idea. “Let’s look around.”
The two men slowly moved through the cold house. For added light they pulled open the rest of the window drapes. They looked in
the kitchen and every closet, but none had locks. They rambled through the living room, then the front bedroom and found nothing.
“This feels creepy,” Nick said.
“Keep looking,” Cody said. It did feel disturbing, almost invasive. But Jack wanted Cody to find whatever it was he had left.
“I found something,” Nick called out. “There’s a safe in here.”
In Jack’s bedroom closet there was a small portable safe stuck in the back corner under some bath towels and folded blankets. The safe was about a foot tall and a foot wide, with a dial tumbler and a key
slot. It was heavy, but Cody was able to rock it away from the wall allowing some shadowed light from the bedroom window to filter in on it.
The men looked at each other. Cody got on his knees and inserted the key, then pulled the handle. The safe door opened without having to use the combination dial. Though dark inside, Cody could see a piece of paper on top of some odd shaped items. He removed the paper and brought it up to full light. It had Cody’s name scribbled on the outside fold.
Cody unfolded the paper. It was a brief letter to him from Jack. He read the letter aloud:
Cody---
These are bad times we live in. We have forgotten
there are always terrible people out there. We
have ignored past events and are destined to relive
them. Being a teacher of history, you should know
that. We have forgotten how to fight for what
is right. I know. I’ve been there. All the things in
this safe are for you, Cody. Over the years you have
been a dear friend to Edith and me. Take them and
protect your family. If anything, remember what
a great man once said, “Bad things happen when
good men do nothing.”
Jack
“Wow,” Nick uttered.
“Yeah. Wow,” Cody softly responded.
Treasonous Behavior- in the Beginning Page 5