Hideaway (Book 0): An EMP Thriller Page 4

  He opened the refrigerator and felt the cool air, but knew that it wasn’t going to last long. He then closed it and sat at the small circular table they had in the corner, pulling out his laptop and e-book reader. He tried to turn them on, but nothing happened.

  James rose from his chair and walked toward the key rack on the wall, his heart beating fast. There before him was the key to his Pontiac. It was finally time to see if his plan would work. He grabbed the key, sighed, and headed toward the garage. He entered the darkened space and instinctively flipped the switch, but nothing happened.

  There, taking up most of the space, was his classic ‘78 Pontiac Trans Am. It was covered with a blue tarp and hadn’t been driven in weeks. He remained cautiously optimistic as he lifted the cover, revealing the glossy bronze paint job. He didn’t like taking her out like this. She wasn’t fully ready, but he had little choice in the current crisis.

  James was confident that the car would make it downtown and back. What concerned him the most was damaging the car he’d spent so much time working on. Marla had referred to it as his prized possession, and she wasn’t too far off. He was very protective of it. He felt along the smooth roof and peered through the window. The leather seats and vintage interior brought him comfort, as if to say that everything was going to be okay. He manually unlocked the door and opened it.

  Inside, everything was exactly as he wanted it. He’d even installed a CD player and speakers. He wished there was another way. The Pontiac wasn’t ready for such an uncertain journey. She belonged secured in the garage under cover, unspoiled by the outside world. But there was no other solution he could think of.

  James sat down with both hands on the wheel. It was the moment of truth. There was only one way to find out if his theory meant anything. He had to turn the ignition. He slid the key inside, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, turning the switch, prepared to rev the gas pedal.

  The Pontiac roared to life with its glorious motor blaring through the garage. James fell back in his seat, cheering. The car had really started. From what he knew, the advanced circuitry of newer vehicles was more susceptible to electromagnetic waves. Early and pre-1980 vehicles were just the opposite. He had also read that an EMP attack would have little to no effect on any vehicle. But that didn’t seem to be the case.

  James revved the engine some and let it run for a few minutes before barreling down the road. Eager to hear some news, he tried to turn on the stereo, but it had no power. He couldn’t believe it. They were cut off. No one had any idea what was happening and who was going to fix it. It was the most frustrating thing next to the loss of power.

  As he stepped out and approached the garage door, a new concern entered his mind. Traveling downtown in a working vehicle amid thousands of people without transportation posed new dangers. He had to expect the worst. And that was even if he could find Marla. The best option, he believed, was to get the car as close to downtown as possible and hope to find Marla on foot. Exhaust steadily flowed from the muffler as he pulled up the garage door. There was no going back. Who did he see at the end of the driveway but Vernon, walking both his Rottweilers. Vernon glanced over, surprised, and waved.

  “I didn’t think anyone was home,” he said. “Damn power’s out.”

  “Yeah, I know,” James said loudly over the engine.

  Vernon began to walk up the driveway, curious. “Where’s the Jeep?” His two dogs pulled against their leashes as they sniffed around the grass.

  James thought to himself, unsure of how much to elaborate on. “It broke down.”

  “Really?” Vernon responded with more surprise. “And you just left it?”

  “I had no choice,” James said, distracted. “I’ve got to get Marla now. Something’s come up.”

  Vernon nodded with unasked questions on his face. “I saw her on TV earlier. She looked great there in front of city hall.” It was nice to know that she had done her segment. He hoped that she would stay in place. If the EMP reached downtown, there was a good chance that she and her news crew were stranded anyway.

  “She’ll be happy that you watched,” he said, stepping out of the garage. He looked down the empty road where there wasn’t a moving car in sight.

  “So, you’re finally taking the Firebird out?” Vernon asked with an amused nudge of his elbow.

  “Sure am,” James said, motioning to leave. “I’ll be back soon. Talk to you later.” He turned around and headed back into the garage as Vernon called out to him.

  “Why didn’t you call a tow truck?”

  James turned around, offering his most honest assessment. “It’s not that simple, Vernon. I’ll tell you all about it when we get back.”

  “Oh…” he said. “Well. Good luck.”

  James thanked him and got inside the car. He glanced into his rear-view mirror to see Vernon moving out of the way. Shifting into Reverse, James backed out of the garage as the 165 horse-powered engine vibrated under the hood. The Firebird was loud, there was no denying it and no way not to get noticed. But James wasn’t stopping for anyone or anything. He backed into the road, ready to face the unpredictable. Vernon stood in his front lawn with his dogs circling around and waved. James put on his sunglasses and then gunned the car forward down the street.

  James continued through the back roads, avoiding the more populated areas for as long as he could. If he could get to the highway, he’d be in luck. He pictured lane upon lane of motionless cars, their engines quiet and still, with drivers and passengers alike standing around and waiting for help. There was always an off chance that the attack hadn’t spread that far. James traced back through his knowledge of electromagnetic pulses, trying to remember the approximate range of a single aerial explosion.

  A nuclear detonation could leave massive devastation. He recalled that much. The gamma rays could cover damn near half the country, depending. The damage would be determined by the amount of pulse waveform, voltage level, and detonation device. If his concerns were correct, the EMP strike must have been hugely powerful to disable not only the power grid but their vehicles and electronics. What country would have the guts to do this? As he turned down several roads, receiving curious glances along the way, James hoped that he was wrong. He hoped that it was something else.

  He swerved past cars blocking parts of a long residential road where people on both sides watched from outside homes. Their eyes followed his car with surprise, as though he was from the future. James felt uneasy with all the attention, and he knew that things were just going to worsen once he hit the main roads. He maintained his speed and kept his eyes on the road with vigilance. There were people everywhere, including children lingering on the road.

  James slowed and swerved around some empty trash cans in his path. From what he had seen so far, it looked like the world had stopped. If the situation wasn’t fixed, things would get much worse than he imagined. James was fortunate to have a working vehicle, blessed really. He and Marla could go anywhere. They weren’t trapped yet.

  He thought of his parents’ house in Pittsburg or Jason’s house in Raleigh, North Carolina. Perhaps he was thinking too far ahead of himself. Out of habit, he halted at a three-way stop, with forest ahead and the crossroad on both sides. He was a few blocks from the interstate. So far, he hadn’t run into trouble. He glanced at the fuel gauge. It was at half a tank, plenty to get to town and back. With so many vehicles spread about, he wouldn’t have any problem getting fuel when the time came. He found it both sad and amusing. The nervous laughter that followed was propelled more by fear than anything else. He turned left and saw a Buick station wagon parked crookedly in the middle of the road.

  Its hood was up like so many other vehicles. Further ahead, a walking family turned around at the sound of James’s engine. As he maneuvered around the white Buick, he hoped that they’d move out of his way. The father guided his two young children and wife to the side of the road and began to flag James down. James couldn’t bring himself to speed past t
hem, especially seeing the woman with a baby in her arms.

  He reluctantly slowed as the man paced toward the middle of the road with his hand up. James rolled down his window and came to a stop.

  “Hey, how are you doing?” the man asked, visibly out of breath. He looked to be in his early thirties with a chiseled face, thick brown hair, and glasses. Gripping the straps of the backpack he was wearing, the man leaned down with relief in his face. “We’re glad to finally see another car.”

  “Yeah,” James said. He pointed down the road, offering the man the only solution he had time for. “There’s a gas station about a quarter mile from here. You just take a left at the end of the road.”

  The man looked back at his family and then to James, clearly wanting more. “Darn car just stopped all on its own, and I can’t get it running.” He then held up his cell phone, displaying a blank screen. “Tried to call AAA, but none of our phones work.”

  “It’s really strange,” James conceded. “Only a temporary glitch, I hope.”

  “I saw this explosion in the sky while I was driving,” the man said. “Then everything just stopped.”

  “You saw that?” James asked. At least he knew he wasn’t the only one.

  “Yeah,” the man said, extending his hand. “I’m Bill Roberts. Nice to meet you.”

  James shook hands with the second stranger of his day. “James Weller. Do you live around here?”

  The man stared down the empty road and shook his head. “We’re from Idaho, trying to surprise my Mom for her birthday. She has no idea that we’re coming.”

  “Ah,” James said. He then knew that he’d set himself up for the question that followed.

  “She only lives about ten, fifteen miles from here. Think you could give us a ride?”

  James thought to himself with uncertainty. “Where does she live?”

  “Edwardsville,” the man said.

  “I’m sorry. That’s in the opposite direction, and I’m really in a hurry.”

  The man took a step back and held his tongue, visible frustration on his face. He showed his blank phone again as if to make a point. “We’re stranded here with no way to communicate with anyone. You’ve got to help us.”

  “I wish I could, but I have an emergency right now,” James said.

  “I have three hungry children with nowhere to go,” the man retorted, laying it on thick.

  James apologized again, even as the man’s politeness shifted to anger. He then pointed to a park gazebo on the side of the road. There were benches and shade, all unoccupied. It was an ideal spot for anyone to rest and wait. “If you’d like to wait, I can come back. But I’ve got to go.”

  Realizing that James might not budge, the man switched his demeanor to that of compromise. “What if…” he paused and lowered his head, searching for a solution. “Can you drop me off at the gas station, so I can bring back something to eat?”

  James was a cautious person, not overtly paranoid, but the thought of Bill Roberts stealing his car did come to mind. He gradually agreed to the man’s request and told him to get in. Bill thanked him profusely and then rushed back to his family to tell them the news. James tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, waiting. Bill parted ways with his family, promising that he’d be back. James hadn’t mentioned the condition the Drive N’ Save was in when he had left there earlier. At least he’d be able to check on his Jeep. But all those people, he thought. I’ll be mobbed.

  Bill ran around to the side of the car and got inside. He thanked James again and closed his door.

  “Don’t mention it,” James said, driving off. He watched in the side mirror as Bill’s family moved to a bench and sat down, waiting for what might be a very long time.

  “I just can’t believe this,” Bill said, cupping his fist against his chin.

  James slowed at the stop sign, nervous about what awaited them at the gas station. It’d only been an hour, but there were a lot of stranded people there. “I saw the same flash in the sky,” he began. “I think this is intentional. Someone attacked us.”

  Bill turned to him, astonished. “You think so? W-what kind of attack?”

  “You’ve heard of an electromagnetic pulse, right? EMP?”

  “Yeah.” Bill then threw his hands down. “You think so?”

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense,” James said, turning left. As they passed a pair of old train tracks, he saw more and more cars ahead. The gas station was close.

  “What about your car?” Bill asked. “It seems to be running fine.”

  “Older model,” James said, avoiding specifics. He crossed the middle line in the road to avoid one car in their path, then veered over to miss another.

  Bill then gripped the dashboard in panic and shouted, “Look out!” as two young boys darted across the road. With the many obstructions in his way, James hadn’t been speeding, but the boys still surprised him. The tires screeched as he hit the brakes. The boys froze in the middle of the road, the grill of the Firebird inches from their faces. A man in the distance shouted for them to get out of the road and they ran off without giving the car another look.

  “That was close,” Bill said, taking a deep breath. He released his grip from the dashboard and leaned back in the seat.

  “We’re fine,” James said, drifting forward. There were more vehicles in their way, while others appeared to have drifted off into the breakdown lane. They reached a line of cars stopped behind a dump truck. Drivers were out of the cars, some leaning against them, clutching their cell phones in hopes that normalcy would return. James didn’t blame them. He still carried his in his pocket out of habit, despite it being useless.

  “This is insane,” Bill uttered as they passed the cars. “What are we going to do?”

  James didn’t know what to tell Bill or anyone else for that matter. The gas station came into view, just as crowded as ever. Bill leaned forward in shock. “How far does this thing spread?” he asked.

  “Not too far, I hope,” James answered. Heads turned from all directions as they neared the parking lot. The Firebird was drawing attention now, standing out like nothing else. “Here we are.”

  Bill nodded but seemed hesitant to get out as they idled near the parking lot. The semi-truck was still there, along with all the vehicles he had seen before. “Power’s out in there too, I imagine,” he said, apparently stalling.

  “It was when I was there an hour ago,” James said. He looked beyond the semi-truck and saw his Jeep still parked snugly near the dumpsters.

  Bill pulled his wallet from his pocket and looked inside. “I hope they still take cash.” James glanced over as Bill handed him a five-dollar bill from his wallet. “Here. For your trouble.”

  But James pushed the money away. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Bill returned the money and then grabbed the door knob. “You will come back and check on us, right?”

  A determined group of men from the parking lot began their quick approach toward the Firebird. James knew he had to get out of there or face driving stranded commuters around all day. Or worse. “I’ll try my best,” James said. “I have to get my wife first.”

  Bill nodded, hesitant to leave, but the time had come. “What about other stations?” he then asked.

  James pointed to another one across the street. “Take your pick.” Suddenly, someone knocked on James’s window. James turned, startled. There stood a man who looked no different than anyone else. But in his widened eyes, James saw sheer desperation. Another fist slammed across his windshield as a man shouted at him. “I need a ride to the airport!”

  “Out,” James said in a loud tone that got Bill moving. He opened the door and stepped out as a small construction crew approached the car from behind. Bill thanked him again and closed the door. James flipped the lock and pressed the gas, jolting past the frantic traveler who had been at his window.

  He watched in his rear-view mirror as the group got smaller and felt an immediate sense of relief
. If this was a taste of what he faced a mile from his quaint suburban neighborhood, James could only imagine what awaited him in the city. He turned down the main road, two lanes divided by a median with opposite dual lanes on the other side, and drove toward the highway exit.

  He swerved around cars strewn in his path until he reached the entrance ramp, noticing an unfortunate accident nearly blocking his path. One car had slammed into the back of another, crushed against the guard rail.

  James wasn’t sure how or why, but he quickly acted to maneuver around it. With shattered glass and plastic and wires still covering the road, the collision looked recent. As he passed the wreckage, he saw a man pacing nearby with a bloody towel pressed against his forehead.

  On the side railing sat two women with their heads down in apparent pain. James heard no emergency sirens or ambulances. Their heads turned as James drove by, staring at his car in shock. Without warning, something struck James’s back window, startling him. It had sounded like a rock and left a tiny crack. He floored it and followed the curved entrance ramp onto the highway.

  Nothing blocked his path, but as he merged onto the highway, James saw a stunning sight: stopped vehicles spread across the lanes like an automotive graveyard. There were several cars parked on both sides of the road. He slowed upon seeing a crowd of people walking toward the city as though the road ahead had been closed. They were walking everywhere with no apparent fear of anything that might be moving.

  As he proceeded, it was getting more difficult to find space to move around between the three lanes. He reached a bridge with a concrete wall on each side. He was feeling more boxed in than ever, while passing and swerving around cars, buses, cargo trucks, and semi-trailers all erratically blocking the highway. He was curious about not seeing even one working vehicle; not one vintage car, military transport, or government fleet.