Hideaway (Book 1): An EMP Thriller Read online

  Hideaway: Book 1 - An EMP Survival Story

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  Fragments

  Marla woke in the dead of night with little idea of where she was. From the back seat of a moving car, darkened billboards passed by on the quiet highway. The steady, rhythmic bounce rocked her forward as she tried to gather her bearings. Headlights beamed onto the road in front, illuminating their path. But there were no other lights or cars to be seen. There were boxes and plastic bins to her side, filling the rest of the back seat. The hatch behind was loaded up as well. She recognized the car. She was in Larry Atwood's station wagon.

  A blanket had been placed over her along with a pillow behind her head. She was even strapped in, but she had no memory of how she had gotten there. Larry was driving. He had helped Marla and her husband, James, escape the city earlier that morning. She could barely wrap her mind around all that had happened. James was in the seat in front of her. He and Larry weren't talking, and neither seemed to notice that she had awoken. But the main question on her mind was how she had gotten there. Her recollection was hazy. She checked her jean pockets for her cell phone but couldn't find it. Her purse was also gone. Son of a...

  She remembered the unexpected blackout that had besieged St. Louis and the explosions that had followed. There had been a direct attack on the city. Terrorism was suspected. She had never experienced anything like it. Her and James gone to Larry's store downtown. He was lucky enough to have a working vehicle. After the blackout, so many people didn't. She recalled the chaotic drive home in Larry's wagon. Now she was back in the same vehicle and it was nighttime.

  The entire horrible day flooded back to her: the mass hysteria outside the courthouse, the bodies in the road after the second explosion, and the fear that gripped her and the entire city. It was the kind of fear she hadn't known existed, a fear of annihilation. There was no sense to any of it. One moment, she was at work, and then everything literally stopped. Downtown had descended into madness.

  Vehicle engines cut off as though their batteries had been yanked out in an instant. A cacophony of collisions followed, cars crashing into one another when their drivers lost control. Marla couldn't get the sounds of crushed metal and plastic out of her head or the cries and screams that followed. She couldn't quite get the smell of thick smoke off her. It had come from the raging building fire a few blocks from the town hall where she had been conducting an interview. She wondered if it had been some awful nightmare. But that wasn't the case. It had really happened. How else had she ended up in the backseat of Larry's cramped station wagon?

  They passed a sign for Interstate 55, traveling north. The car's speed ebbed and flowed as Larry swerved around vehicles stopped dead in the road. She remained quiet and hoped to hear what James and Larry were up to. Earlier that day, Larry had made clear his plans to travel to a cabin in Forest Park, fifty miles outside the city, where his wife was waiting. But Marla had agreed to no such plan and began to suspect that the decision had been made for her.

  Her memory of the day was a confounding blur. She had no idea what time it was or how many hours had passed. She had no idea if her parents were safe, or anyone else for that matter. There was no telling how wide the blackout had spread. Larry believed that the national power grid had been compromised. That's how he had put it.

  St. Louis had been hit with a nuclear electromagnetic pulse, launched upwards of forty thousand feet in the air. Larry owned a survivalist store. As a self-proclaimed “prepper,” he seemed to at least understand what was going on. Her husband James had his own theories too. Whether it had been an attack by a rogue terrorist organization or enemy state, the results were the same. Their lives were in disarray.

  Marla rested her head back and glanced out the window as they passed a rest stop shaded in darkness. Semi-trucks lined the parking lot just as normal but without any lights. Their car suddenly jerked to the side, startling everyone inside. Larry cursed under his breath and veered onto the shoulder, avoiding a jackknifed trailer across all four lanes. He then pulled back onto the road where fewer vehicles blocked their way. Larry said something to James about “getting there before morning.” She knew what he was talking about. They were going to Larry's cabin. Marla thought back to the beginning. She was there in downtown St. Louis when it had all started. Soon enough, everything came flooding back.

  ***

  It was a normal Friday morning in the bustling city of St. Louis, Missouri, where some three hundred thousand people were beginning their day. The rising sun peeked over the iconic Gateway Arch amid metropolitan skyscrapers, highways, and urban sprawl along the Mississippi River. Downtown traffic crawled along through every busy intersection and street. Road and building construction droned from blocks apart, echoing through the air. People shuffled past crosswalks and along sidewalks to get to work. Children were sent off to school, shifts began, breakfasts were made, and a collective eagerness for the weekend filled the autumn air. Life was moving on like any American city. And in about thirty minutes, all of that was about to change.

  Marla Weller stood outside the steps of City Hall with her news crew in wait. Dean, her cameraman, checked his video settings as her assistant, Raul, gathered equipment from the back of their news van. Their segment was about to be broadcast on the Channel 9 morning news. Inside City Hall, a refurbished Information Center was opening. They were interviewing Deputy County Commissioner Gale Redding a day ahead of the grand opening. For Marla, it wasn't exactly a “hard-hitting” segment, but she did the stories she was assigned. She had worked for Channel 9 for over four years, waiting for a story that would launch her career.

  “All set,” Dean said, lifting his video camera to his shoulder.

  Marla slipped in her earpiece, patching her to the station. Raul approached them from the van with some cables and handed Marla her microphone. Behind them was the courtyard leading into City Hall, an elegant four-story building. Its grand bohemian design resembled an old castle with two looming elm trees placed across from each other in the front.

  Her cameraman looked around as they set up. “Is he supposed to meet us out here?

  “No,” Marla said, listening to her earpiece. “We've got to go inside.” She paused and glanced at her watch. “Let's move.” She hurried up the steps to the building and then veered to the left where the information center was located. The double door entrance was closed, but she gave it a quick knock and opened it.

  “You there, Marla?” her producer Kate said through her earpiece.

  “I'm here,” Marla answered through the lavalier mic on the collar of her dress shirt. She wore a skirt and heels with her dark hair brushed back. She had applied her own makeup earlier, including the red lipstick she liked to wear on camera in addition to her silver earrings.

  “We're winding down from commercial,” Kate continued. “Be ready.”

  “Got it,” Marla said, hurrying inside. Her eyes searched the lobby for the deputy commissioner, but she didn't see anyone. The information center was much bigger than she remembered, especially with its new additions. There was a historical archive, tourist info, computer center, and even a small art gallery. Just past the lobby was a lighted fountain, with classical music playing overhead. It was all so sophisticated.

  Raul came up to her with a mirror as she glanced at her reflection just to be sure. “How much money do you think they spent on this place?” she asked.

  “More than enough,” Raul said, taking her cosmetic mirror back. He not only served as her assis
tant with his jet-black greaser hair and mustache, he was also her driver, technician, and mechanic. They glanced up at some wall-mounted flat screen televisions lined up like a sports bar, all playing the same welcome video.

  A group of suited county workers suddenly entered through a glass door, approaching a clerk who was at the desk. Marla searched the group but didn't see the deputy commissioner among them. Dean panned his camera around the elegant lobby, impressed with what he saw.

  “Pretty nice,” he said.

  “You like it?” a voice asked from behind them.

  Marla spun around, surprised but relieved to see the deputy commissioner standing there, a big smile on his round, reddish face. He wore a tweed suit and black tie with his thin blond hair parted to one side. “Pretty nice, right?”

  “Find him yet?” Kate's voice said in Marla's earpiece. “You're on in thirty.”

  Marla extended her hand to the deputy commissioner. “Mr. Redding. It's a pleasure. We're about to go live. Are you ready?”

  A nervous smile flashed across his face as he patted his hair. “Sure. I apologize for the delay. There's some interesting developments going on and--” he suddenly stopped himself and rotated his neck, prepared for the interview. Dean, in his corduroy jacket and green ball cap, took a step back and gave Marla a thumbs up. Marla then noticed a deepening look of worry on the deputy commissioner's face. Her instincts told her that it was more than just nervousness. “Is everything okay?” she asked just as Kate began to count down into her ear.

  “Sure, sure,” he said, waving her off. “Just got back from a security briefing. I'm sure they're just being overcautious.”

  “About what?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, straightening his tie. “We've had dozens of briefs just like it.”

  “Move closer to the mural behind you,” Kate's voice said.

  Marla turned and backed up toward a tile wall mural of an old colonial settlement and looked in the camera as the deputy followed. She could hear one of the morning news anchors, Terrance Delaney, speaking. “And now, Marla Weller joins us at City Hall for more. Marla?”

  Dean pointed at her as she nodded and spoke without delay. “Yes, Terrance. We're standing in the new information center, where brochure stands aren't the only thing you'll find. The center was given an extensive makeover with five additions added to it.” She signaled for Dean to pan through the room. “And as you can see, it looks fantastic. I'm here with the deputy commissioner, Gale Redding. Mr. Redding has been with the county for ten years and was one of the driving visions behind the renovations. Gale, what can you tell us about this new center?”

  He lowered his cell phone and nervously looked to Marla and the camera. “Yes. We're excited to finally have this ready for our grand opening tomorrow. The public is invited to come join us for free drinks and food, including a, uh... raffle.”

  Kate suddenly spoke in Marla's ear. “What's going on? He's sweating like a pig.” Marla watched as he pulled out a white handkerchief, mid-sentence, and wiped his forehead.

  “Sounds wonderful,” Marla said to Gale after he finished. “It's amazing how quickly the refurbishment took place. What was your role in the negotiations?” The list of questions rattled off in her head as she tried to stay on topic. With his shifting eyes and nervous composure, she grew concerned by his distraction. Gale reached into his coat pocket for his cell phone once again. “I apologize,” he said, glancing at the screen. “I'm afraid I have an emergency.”

  “Get him on track,” Kate said, “or we cut to sports.”

  Marla continued in her professional fashion. “We understand you're a busy man. What do you think this center will do for the community in the long run?”

  Gale was done, regardless. “I'm sorry. It's been a pleasure, but I need to go.” He then simply pivoted to the side and walked off camera, stunning Marla and her team in the process.

  “Is there anything you can tell us?” she asked.

  Gale halted. “No. It's nothing. Thank you.” He walked off toward an elevator in the corner, vigorously pushing the button.

  “It looks like we've caught the deputy commissioner at a busy time,” Marla said, trying to save face. “This is Marla Weller, inviting you to the grand opening of the St. Louis Visitor and Information Center tomorrow morning. Back to you, Terrance.”

  “And... you’re clear,” Kate added.

  Marla yanked out her earpiece and held her arms out in awe. Dean pointed to the elevator and she turned to see Gale still standing there. She ran over to him, eager to find out what had happened. Gale turned upon her approach and pressed the elevator button again, but it was moving too slow for a clean getaway.

  “I do apologize, Mrs. Weller,” he said, “but I've got urgent business.”

  “It's quite all right,” she said, catching her breath. “Our viewers might be a little suspicious though.”

  His eyes widened as he turned to look at her.

  Marla nodded. “My producer told me that they're already getting calls about it.”

  “Okay,” he said in a hushed tone. “I'll tell you what I know, but you didn't hear it from me.”

  “Sure,” Marla said in anticipation.

  “It isn't much,” he was sure to add. “Like I said earlier, we've received some credible information about a potential terrorist attack. Threat level is up, and we're about to alert all departments. Happy?”

  “Where and when?” Marla asked.

  Gale leaned in closer with his friendly facade erased. “If I knew that, I wouldn't be standing around here talking with you.” The elevator door opened and he hurried inside, turning around to address her. “Good day, Mrs. Weller.”

  The doors closed and Marla stood there, thumb on her chin and trying to make sense of it all. She marched back to the lobby where Dean and Raul were waiting with curious expressions.

  “Well. That was weird,” Raul said.

  Dean lowered his camera off his shoulder and placed it onto the floor. “Didn't Homeland get rid of that color-coded system?”

  “I don't know,” Marla said, looking beyond them to the outside exit. “I think we should go back to the station.”

  Raul glanced at his wristwatch. “We've got to be at Lafayette Park in an hour. Why not just head there?” They had a noon spot, covering the growing use of pesticides among the park ground's thirty acres.

  “Because something's not right,” she said, walking past them.

  She opened the exit and saw two security guards approaching. She held up her press badge as they stepped aside and let her through. Dean and Raul soon followed and joined her outside where general unease was in the air. Marla took out her earpiece, done with reporting for the moment. She continued toward the courtyard where people approached and entered City Hall as though everything seemed at the height of normalcy. The sudden increase of security guards around the building soon changed that.

  She observed City Hall as traffic continuously flowed from the street. Dean and Raul stood around not saying much, but it was clear they were confused by her sudden flight from the building. “We've got to get going,” Raul said. “Kate wants us at Lafayette Park.”

  Marla nodded in understanding but gave no response while watching as more and more people filed outside City Hall with security guards at the doors. “Get your camera ready,” she told Dean.

  He lifted his camera up, unsure of where to point it. “What's going on?”

  “Yes, what's going on, Marla?” Raul added.

  “Quiet!” she said with a finger to her lips.

  A stillness in the air drove her intuition to a belief that all was not well. She was prepared to step in front of the camera and voice her concerns, but nothing about the situation was clear. They were simple observers and nothing else. Something inside told her to leave, so she walked down the steps toward their van parked along the front.

  “I thought you wanted to hang around and see what happens,” Dean said, chasing after.


  “Raul's right. We need to get to the park. Just keep your eyes open,” she responded. City Hall no longer interested her. She wanted to get out of there. There was no certainty to any of it, but she didn't feel safe. And then she heard the blast.

  Ground Zero

  A few feet from their news van, a sudden explosion rippled through downtown, loud and foreboding. Marla saw a fireball rip up into the air from a distance, sweeping in its vibrant scope. She stumbled back, startled, and brushed against a tree. Tremors followed with an echoing boom. Regaining her balance, Marla hurried to the van, knowing that something had gone horribly wrong. Blocks away, past several buildings, smoke flowed with the glare of flames in the distance. Seconds later, a massive fireball rolled and expanded, billowing into a plethora of deep black smoke. One building was clearly on fire, maybe more, right in the heart of downtown.

  Marla fell back against the van's side and tried to get a better look while shielding bright sunlight from her face. She could smell the smoke already, strong and potent. With her news team, she watched, paralyzed, as people ran past the courthouse or through the roads and sidewalks, away from the explosion. Her bare foot touched the pavement as she realized she was missing a heel. She brushed her hair to the side, with a tight, panicked feeling in her chest. Raul and Dean took cover next to the van, crouching low in the increasing haze.

  “Dean! Your camera,” Marla said, jamming her earpiece in.

  Dean looked up at her. His camera sat on the pavement a few feet away with its lens cap. “Sounded like a bomb.”

  “You think?” Raul said, opening the rear doors. Phone between his ear and shoulder, he reached in and fished out a pair of binoculars.

  Marla kicked off her other heel and went to the back of the van, grabbing a pair of sandals. It had only been a minute or two since the blast. People were still fleeing in the opposite direction, rushing past them and scattering downtown. “Kate?” she said, cupping the side of her earpiece.