Neighborhood Watch: After the EMP

by EE Isherwood

  An older woman waved me over. “Hey, are you a teacher in charge of getting the highschool kids to their homes?”

  “No way,” I laughed. “I just happened to be going the same way as them.”

  “He got us all walking together,” Luke volunteered.

  “My granddaughter should have come home,” the woman said, “but I don’t see her. Do you have any paperwork showing who left with you?”

  “Sorry. They had all the kids in the gym, and there was a bit of an issue getting them outside the school, so maybe she was delayed. I can tell you the school released everyone, so she should be home soon.”

  There were still a lot of teenagers following our main group, so I was hopeful the woman’s granddaughter was among the stragglers. We couldn’t stay and wait with her to be sure. “Well, good luck to you.”

  I’d pushed my bike about twenty yards before a female voice shouted. “Hey, you! Mister!”

  I stopped and turned. “Yes?”

  It was a different woman from the corner.

  “My son said you kept an eye on him while you walked from school. Thank you for being a good Samaritan!”

  “He’s doing a Gandalf!” Tyler yelled from next to me.

  “What?” the woman asked.

  “Nothing,” I replied. “I’m glad to help.”

  The happy woman stood close to the one who was still waiting for her granddaughter to show up, providing a stark contrast in emotion. I was almost certain every kid who’d been in the school was now heading directly home, but teens were teens. Not every person would go straight there.

  We continued on our way with fewer people. Almost every street led into another subdivision and each time we passed one there would be a student or two who peeled off our group.

  Another thirty minutes in, getting close to our turnoff, we saw a strange sight on the road in front of us.

  Ahead, coming down the middle of the two lanes, a car-sized cube of silver appeared. It took me half a minute to figure out what it was, but once I saw it, I knew for sure, since I’d seen similar stacks many times.

  “Frank, what do you make of that?” Luke asked as we stopped the bikes to assess the situation.

  “It’s a pallet of bottled waters. Someone must be pushing it on a skid.”

  We continued walking until we were within shouting distance of the approaching object. As I guessed, it was a five-foot tall cube of 24-packs of water bottles. The whole thing was shrink-wrapped with clear plastic and it rolled on a pallet jack pushed by two big men. One guy wore a red ball cap.

  “I’m glad you had us fill up our tubs, Frank,” Luke said, “because it would suck to push all that weight down the highway.”

  “Yeah, you aren’t lying,” I whispered.

  As soon as the men saw us, they put on the brakes.

  “We don’t want any trouble,” I said, anticipating they’d defend what was theirs, possibly with violence. “We’re all walking home from school.” I pointed behind me, showing the men the procession of perhaps forty boys and girls.

  The two guys looked at each other, then back to me. The man in the red hat spoke. “I guess we could spare a little for the kiddos.”

  I stood there in shock.

  “Would that be okay?” the man pressed.

  “Yeah,” I replied. “Your offer took me by surprise. It must be the heat getting to me. Of course, it would be okay. You’re lifesavers in this afternoon sun.”

  I spoke to those left in my group.

  “Kids, these two nice fellas are offering you a water bottle for the rest of your walk home. Only take it if you need it, but definitely take one if you’re getting hot.”

  The teens swarmed around the pallet as the men picked from a couple open cases near the top. The man in the red hat walked an armful over to me, Luke, and Melanie. “We’ve got plenty to spare.”

  “I appreciate it,” I said, “but I brought my own. I’d rather you give any extras to the kids.”

  Luke didn’t take one, but Melanie did.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “How’d you come across so much water?” I asked in my most casual voice. My first impression was they’d stole it, but the unprompted offer to share had me thinking it might be legitimate. Thieves wouldn’t give up their loot, would they?

  The guy with the red hat spoke to me.

  “Me and my brother here own a microbrewery in North Pointe, but there was a big plane crash close to our building.”

  “I saw it come down,” I interjected.

  “Never saw anything like that in my life. We stuck around for as long as we dared, but when no police or fire trucks showed up to fight the fire, we decided to scrounge what we could. On our first trip home we stuffed our company laptops, hard drives, and other valuables into a pallet of hops. On this second trip we got something useful for our families in case the water goes out.”

  “Don’t forget to plug up your bathtubs and fill them with fresh water,” I said, once again repeating the most basic and free survival advice anyone could do. “You can also use double-ply trash bags to make big water bladders, but you have to do it while the municipal water is still flowing.”

  “Well, I guess that would have been less work than trudging this home.”

  “We’re sure glad you were here,” I replied.

  “I think it worked out just fine. By the way, I’m Paul, and this is Chris. We’re from Starburn Cay, which you just passed.” He pointed behind us. “If you ever need anything, look us up.”

  “Same here. Always glad to help. We’re from the Yucca Reef community.” I pointed in the other direction. “You can see our turnoff right up that way.” We were maybe two hundred yards from Poseidon Pier and the sign with the orange fish. Since there wasn’t much besides trees on the east side of the road, our development stood out.

  “We’ll keep you in mind,” Paul replied.

  “Oh, one more thing,” I added. “I know why you brought home your computer gear, but I think this is all happening because of an EMP. From here on out, the only things of value are going to be what can keep your families alive until help arrives.”

  Both men were struck silent for a few moments.

  Paul took off his red hat, wiping his forehead. “How long?”

  I shrugged, aware whatever I said would probably be wrong. “I’m planning for the worst, as if the power will never come back on. Then, when it does, I’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

  “I guess that’s better than assuming it will come on tomorrow or the next day.” Paul brushed the sweat out of his eyes as he spoke.

  Both men looked to their pallet as if they were anxious to get moving.

  “Take care,” I said.

  “Ditto,” Paul answered.

  They heaved and pushed to get the pallet jack rolling, then steered it back to the middle of the roadway. In moments, they were cruising along toward their intersection. I intended to remember who they were, and what street they turned down, should I ever need a thousand plastic bottles. Not to mention, being able to brew beer is a surprisingly useful survival skill if things stayed bad for a long enough time for calories to be a big issue.

  The students in our group had spread out to sit in the grass and drink their waters, but I had to get them right back up, so we could get them all home. We were so close, and nothing bad had happened, so now wasn’t the time to get sloppy.

  “Up and at it,” I said in a loud voice. “Almost there.”

  Everyone grouped got back up without complaint as if they were anxious to get the trip over with. A sentiment I shared after talking to the two men about long-term possibilities.

  The final stretch went fast. When we reached Poseidon Pier, three or four adults waited near the stop sign. A few of the younger kids, undoubtedly from the middle school, ran ahead to meet their parents.

  “Is this when the bus would show up?” I asked Tyler, who walked nearby.

  “Yeah, I think so,” he replied.

&nbs
p; “So, these parents still don’t know this is bigger than a power outage…” I waved to the anxious mothers and fathers.

  “Why is that important?” the boy asked.

  “Don’t you see? Your principal didn’t seem to grasp the implications of a full-on EMP blast. The small number of parents who showed up at the school suggests most of the others didn’t get it, either. Now, these guys are standing around waiting for their children to show up like it was any other day. I can’t be the only one who knows about EMPs?”

  “Bruh,” he said with a chuckle. “I keep telling you how you’re totally Gandalf. You even have secret knowledge of the old world just like he did. It all fits.”

  “It’s not a secret,” I insisted. “This should be common knowledge to everyone.”

  “I’ve never heard of an EMP until you mentioned it,” he answered, not sounding proud of himself.

  “You’re what, fifteen? You have an excuse for not knowing. I’m talking about the adults.”

  “Sixteen,” he replied. “I’m a sophomore. I don’t think it’s the kind of thing they teach you in school. It might as well be magic…”

  “He’s right,” Rainey added. “They don’t teach about EMPs to seniors, either. Highschool is mostly useless stuff that doesn’t do any good for anyone, like geometry and history. Ugh.”

  “Those are…” I was going to counter her statement by saying they were important, but I didn’t want to lecture them like an old-timer. I’d used geometry and math almost every day of my life, especially when loading and unloading cargo. However, her point was well-taken about the lack of useful information being taught. There wasn’t any reason why an informed student shouldn’t know about EMPs and survival. My books were full of people who had no idea how to do the most basic things, like pitching a tent or starting a fire. I suspected most of the kids around me fell in that same category.

  We walked in silence for a few seconds before we made it to our destination. I stopped and turned around to address my following of students. “This is where I get off the bus. If you are continuing up the road, please gather around while I tell you something.”

  Most of the teenagers did as instructed, though not everyone seemed interested.

  The nearby parents moved in as well.

  “My name is Frank Douglas. I live over on Clownfish Cove, so I’m one of your neighbors. If they didn’t tell you in school, the reason your phones are dead and the power is out is most likely because an EMP exploded above Florida, or maybe even somewhere else if it was really big. The powerful blast of energy knocked out everything with a computer chip.”

  I waved in a few of the stragglers.

  “Which is why I’m going to give you the most important lesson of your lives. It’s what I’ve been telling everyone I meet today. Go home and ask your parents to pretend a massive hurricane is coming. Secure your homes. Fill your bathtubs with water. Fill anything that will hold a liquid. Planters. Barrels. Swimming pools. Top them all off. Gather your food in a secure place, since restaurants and stores will likely be closed until they have power again. And last of all, get to know the neighbors on your street. None of us can do this alone, okay? We’re in this together.”

  There was a sea of blank faces in front of me. Was that the normal look for teens? Or was it just disbelief? I probably would have doubted some old guy talking like this when I was their age, too. But this might be my last chance to help them, so I’d decided to give it my best effort.

  “Also, last thing. If you’re continuing up the highway past my stop, stick together as far as you can. Older students please take care of the younger ones. There’s safety in numbers…”

  I got a lot of wary acknowledgements. A few of the youngsters stood closer to older students as if afraid they were going to be left behind.

  “Class dismissed,” I added.

  The magic words did the trick. Kids dispersed from my impromptu lesson and sprang into action. Three or four met up with the waiting parents, who must have lived on the other two streets in our subdivision. The rest, about twenty of them, continued walking north on Bayside Road.

  “I feel like a cop, after all,” I said under my breath. “A traffic cop.” I’d spent considerable time in my day gathering young people into groups and then sending them off into the unknown. First, Trevor’s friends. Now, the highschool and middle school students. I was happy to do it, but I couldn’t make it a full-time job.

  The press of silence returned once we’d gotten away from the noisy teens and walked a bit. The parents who’d been waiting for their kids peeled off and went up the first two streets in our neighborhood. By the time we turned on Clownfish, I was happy to only have my smaller group of neighbors.

  I didn’t seriously expect trouble, but if I’d learned anything from walking and riding all over the area, and reading my books, it was that trouble would eventually catch up to us. The first few hours of the EMP had given me some scares, but nothing had been beyond my ability to handle. I wanted to stay on that streak.

  Looking at our street anew, I saw where we needed to have guard posts near the first houses under construction, maybe a roadblock there as well. Some of the books I’d read had their heroes set up complicated signal systems, such as stringing communications wire between houses so their owners could converse in real time. If we used my garage as the headquarters, it would be nice to talk to the guard post a hundred yards away without shouting.

  Confident I had the workings of a security plan, I glanced over my shoulder to check on my group one last time. They’d all stuck close to me, which was good. However, I was surprised to see two young ladies fast-walking about a hundred feet behind us.

  The whole group stopped when I did.

  “Oh, man,” Tyler said under his breath. “Not them again.”

  “Shh,” his mother hissed.

  Their insane red hair identified them from afar as the two girls who’d been trying to break into their own car, so I immediately understood Tyler’s reaction.

  “Are you guys lost?” I asked when they finally got close.

  The girls came a few steps closer but halted about ten feet from me.

  “We don’t mean to be a bother,” one of them said, “but we don’t have anywhere else to go.”

  The twins were tall and muscular, but not in an unattractive way. I figured they played softball or volleyball based on that alone. Their hair hung down to their waists, but one had hers in braids while the other let hers fly wild.

  “Our car didn’t start,” Wild hair said. “We live about ten miles north of here, but we’ve already gone about five, so we’ll never make it home before it gets dark.” She looked to her left, toward the sun. It was already dropping toward the houses in that direction. It had taken us an hour and change to walk home, which meant it was probably close to 4:30 or 5 o’clock already. I needed to find an old-school watch as soon as I could.

  “And you want to stay the night with us?” I asked.

  “We’re real sorry,” she nodded sheepishly, “but once we saw you weren’t going any farther north, we knew it was best to stick with you, since you seem to know what the heck is going on. Plus, we go to class with Tyler.”

  “They can’t stay with us,” Tyler replied in a voice too quiet to be heard by the girls.

  Rainey scoffed at Tyler before shifting toward her mother. “Of course, they can stay with us, right mom?”

  “I’m happy to provide a safe place for you girls, of course.” She scowled at her son, as if to ensure he didn’t argue.

  Luke turned his back to the twins, so he wouldn’t be heard when speaking to me. “I’m cool with them being here, and of course, we’ll take them in for one night, but getting them home could become an issue if this goes on for too long.”

  I nodded. They were extra mouths to feed, too. Based on their size and strength, they probably ate as much as full-grown men. But having them around was the price I paid for walking out of my house earlier in the day. It was the
price of living in a society. Each person I’d met had added new complications, incurred costs I’d not anticipated, and, yes, added long-term dangers and risks. The alternative, however, was living as a hermit inside my house in perfect safety until the food ran out. Helping no one but myself. What jackass would choose that path?

  “It’ll be fine, girls,” I said to them in an upbeat voice. “We’ll take good care of you until we figure out how to get you the rest of the way home. Come with us, and we’ll get you settled in. Maybe you can even help us prepare some things for the night.”

  The wild-haired girl stepped closer. “We’ll help however we can. My name is Alexandria, but you can call me Alex. My sister is Zoe, but she goes by Z.”

  “Thank you so much,” Z, the girl with the braid, added. “We were afraid to ask for help, which is why we followed you at a distance for so long. Sorry about that.”

  “All is forgiven,” I replied. “I’m glad you decided to ask for help, and I’m just as glad we’re in a position to give you a safe place to crash.”

  As we walked the last hundred yards, I saw two men come out of the woods behind the two homes under construction. They walked fast, and toward our end of the cul-de-sac, which threw up a hundred red flags.

  “Luke, stop the trailer. We might need those shotguns after all.”

  CHAPTER 10

  I grabbed my combat shotgun from the back of the trailer and handed the pump to Luke. “You get everyone to your house. I’m going to see what those guys are doing sneaking around here.”

  “Are you sure? I can come with you.”

  “No,” I said with more force than I’d intended. I wasn’t trying to be the hero, but someone had to stay with his wife and the four kids. There might be more men and other threats, so we couldn’t both go out and leave everyone else virtually defenseless. “I see Penny and Carmen standing by the island. You need to get them and your family to safety inside. Have the shotgun ready.”

  “Come on, dad, Gandalf knows what he’s doing,” Tyler said matter-of-factly.

  I wasn’t some all-knowing wizard like the boy thought I was. Instead, I was the guy who already thought about a lot of these scenarios from reading my novels. We were standing in the open, which those books and common-sense advised was the worst place to be when enemy forces were around. Rather than spend more time talking about it, and possibly getting spotted, it was better to spring into action.