The Storm Rises (The Solar Storms Saga Book 0)

by Kyle Pratt

  The civilians grabbed their coffee cups and left the room.

  From the watch desk, Lieutenant Poole dialed his phone. “Shift to backup power.”

  Lights flickered and then returned to normal in The Cube, but in the hallway, only emergency lights shone.

  A few minutes later, a private darted into the ops center. “The unclassified network is down. We don’t have comms with anyone.”

  Poole picked up the phone, but this time shook his head. “No dial tone, sir.”

  With flashlight in hand, Franklin walked through dim corridors, checking offices like a night watchman making his rounds. The glow of emergency lights cast ominous shadows along the halls.

  He didn’t know what he expected to find, but the walk around the building lent him some comfort. Power remained out, but everything else seemed normal. Eventually, he reached the main entrance.

  Sergeant Keller saluted him. “Good evening, sir. Have you seen it?”

  “Seen what, Sergeant?”

  “The lights.” Keller motioned for Franklin to follow him outside. “See?” He waved at the sky.

  Ribbons of red, green, yellow, and purple weaved across the sky like oil on dark water.

  “And do you hear it, sir?”

  “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Exactly.”

  Franklin nodded as understanding hit him.

  Silence had overtaken the city.

  Day One

  Portland, Oregon, Sunday, September 4th

  “Inside this building our equipment has been protected from the CME.” Sitting in the conference room, Major Franklin frowned as he tried to imagine how the people of the city would react when they woke to no power, water, or communications. “Beyond these walls, we have very little information. We need to know what happened to get an idea of what will happen over the next few days and weeks.”

  “I’m sure the electromagnetic pulse burned out most modern technology worldwide.” Poole leaned his elbows on the table. “Several pulses, probably. A lot of people are going to die.”

  Poole sat directly across the conference table from Franklin. A single LED lamp between them left most of the room in darkness and cast deep shadows on the lieutenant.

  “You’re right, Major, we need facts.” General Sattler stepped from the blackness into the gloom.

  “We know that commercial power is out along with internet and military networks,” Poole said.

  “But this might be a localized problem,” the general replied.

  Poole shook his head. “I doubt it.”

  Sattler strode to the head of the table. “Major Franklin, if Lieutenant Poole is correct, we no longer have a Cyber Intelligence Center and we won’t for a very long time. What I need now are real-world facts. At dawn, take Sergeant Keller along with two of the security squads and, if needed, add some of your specialists. Then investigate the local situation. If power and communications are out across Portland, go to Salem. Advise the civil authorities of the situation, and then report back here.”

  “Yes, sir. Shall I also check on unit families in the area?”

  “Good idea.” Sattler nodded. “I’ll handle those close to base. You check on the ones farther out. Also, bring water and extra food from our stocks.”

  Franklin nodded. This was a mission he would gladly accept because the family checks would include his own.

  * * *

  Standing in a shadow, Franklin zipped the jacket of his Army Combat Uniform jacket a bit higher and then strapped on a holster for the first time in many years. He watched an orange sun climb over the hushed city of Portland. It seemed as if the entire world held its breath, waiting for answers.

  In the distance a lone dog barked.

  Medic Karen Bickel lugged a large pack of medical supplies toward one of the trucks. Franklin hoped she wouldn’t need them.

  Sergeant Keller jogged over to him and saluted. “I’ve secured the supplies you ordered along with four vehicles, two Humvees, a fueler, and the deuce-and-a-half truck with that plow blade you wanted. We’ve been working on the cars but can’t get any to run.”

  “What’s wrong with them?” He felt foolish for asking.

  Keller shrugged. “The dash lights come on, the windows even go up and down, but the engines don’t turn over. They just click.”

  “The CME probably damaged the computer processors.” Franklin’s jaw clenched. If the storms inflicted that level of damage on their cars, what would he find as they traveled through Portland? “Ensure all the men are armed, Sergeant.”

  “Yes, sir.

  “Okay, Sergeant, when you’re ready, lead with the deuce and have Braun ride shotgun.” Franklin reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a handheld transceiver and a paper. “Take these. The paper is a map of our route. The radio was in our building so it still works. I’ve got one and I’ll get more for the other drivers. Any questions?”

  “Yes, sir.” Keller pointed to the map. “I understand the stop at the airport and city hall, but there must be twenty other stops marked all over the city of Portland. What are they?

  “Twenty-two stops, Sergeant. We’re checking on unit families. You’ll see your address noted on the side of the page.”

  Keller ran a finger along the paper. “Thank you, sir. Also, why did you want the plow blade on the truck?”

  “Clear the way for the convoy, and keep us moving.”

  Keller raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll be in the Humvee right behind you.”

  Atop the flag pole the stars and stripes fluttered in the cool breeze as Franklin exited the building with additional radios. He shivered as he handed the first one to a driver. When finished, he climbed into a Humvee with Private Scott Thomas. “Do you have family in the area?” he asked.

  “No, sir. I’m single. My parents live back east.”

  Franklin nodded. He hoped that Thomas would see them again, but he doubted that opportunity would arise anytime soon. Clicking the radio, he said, “Head out.”

  As the convoy pulled from the parking lot, the deuce slammed into an abandoned car and pushed it aside with the plow. Franklin grinned. Keller would have a memorable day.

  After the deuce banged past a couple of more vehicles, Franklin clicked on his radio. “You don’t need to smash into every car on the road, Sergeant, just the ones in the way.”

  They crossed under a silent freeway and for the next half mile the convoy weaved around abandoned cars as it followed along quiet streets. Most homes and businesses appeared untouched, but then the convoy passed a burned-out strip mall. Shards of glass sparkled across the parking lot in the early morning light.

  Abandoned cars and trucks filled the intersection just ahead. The screech of metal on metal resounded as Keller plowed a path through. Two blocks beyond, the convoy turned down a residential side street. Curtains pulled back and people gazed from dark homes as the rigs stopped in front of an older blue two-story house.

  A woman stepped out and walked to the middle of the yard.

  Franklin glanced at the list for her name and then joined her on the lawn. “Mrs. Gray, we’re doing welfare checks on unit families. How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine.” She let out a worried breath. “I watched the news until the power went out. Is Jake okay?”

  “He’s fine. Do you have enough food and water?”

  “I do for a couple of days. When will the electricity and water be back on?”

  He had little hope that the utilities would be functioning anytime soon but said, “We’ll be checking on that today.”

  At the second home, Franklin spoke to a man whose wife served in the unit. He asked similar questions and received similar answers.

  After several other family checks, the convoy drove through an older part of the city. When the vehicles stopped, a pregnant woman walked out of a small Craftsman-style home.

  She asked about her husband, electricity, and receiving supplies from one of t
he trucks. Then she inquired about the nearby hospital. “Is it still open? Can I have my baby there?”

  “We’ll check.” Franklin glanced at his map. “That’s our next stop.”

  Older wood homes and brick buildings surrounded the modern steel-and-glass hospital. Men and families walked up and down the streets, but few women walked alone.

  As he stepped from the Humvee near the hospital main entrance, the first thing Franklin noticed was the sound of engines. Generators? Perhaps the hospital remained operational.

  The smell of diesel fumes and wood smoke hung in the air.

  “Sergeant Keller, stay here and guard the vehicles. I’ll take the medic and a couple of armed soldiers and check the hospital.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Pungent smoke hung unseen in the air as they approached the agitated crowd that blocked all view of the main entrance.

  “Make way,” Franklin said as he edged his way into the crowd. “Stand aside.”

  “How come you get to go in? We need things too,” a man on crutches said.

  Franklin ignored him and pushed on with the other soldiers.

  An even larger crowd, some in wheelchairs, others with walkers or crutches, packed the lobby. Just in front of him a man with a towel around his arm dripped blood on the floor. Several children and babies cried.

  Franklin and the soldiers pushed their way through to the counter. Three women attempted to direct patients to doctors, nurses, and wards.

  After watching the turmoil for a moment, Franklin said, “I’d like to speak to the hospital administrator.”

  The nearest woman scowled and threw down her pen. “So … would … I.” Her face grew redder with each word. “Through there.” She thrust her hand in the direction of two security guards blocking the way to a nearby hall. “Fifth floor, room 515. You’ll need to use the stairs. The elevators aren’t working.” The woman stood and shouted. “Bill, let these soldier guys go through.”

  As Franklin strode down the hall, he felt comforted by the glow of fluorescent lights above. He pushed open the stairwell door. Above, doctors and nurses hurried up and down illuminated flights.

  The three soldiers joined the climb. Sweat beaded on Franklin’s forehead when they finally pushed open the stairwell door on the fifth floor. He put his hand on a nearby vent. The air felt warm.

  When they reached the office, Franklin knocked on the door, opened it, and entered.

  “Who are you?” The man behind a large desk jumped to his feet.

  “I’m Major Franklin on a fact-finding mission for the area commander.” He held out his hand and they shook. “You’re the hospital administrator, correct?”

  “Yes. My name is Emerson Montgomery. Please sit down.” He pointed to chairs and everyone sat. “Normally I’d ask how I could be of help to you, but today I’d really like to know if you can help me.”

  Franklin shook his head. “We won’t be able to assist you today, but tell me about your situation and we might be able to get help in the days ahead.”

  Emerson sighed. “We have generators, but everything … MRI, X-ray, ultrasound, heart monitors … everything is down. Also, the toilets don’t work … there’s no water. Dysentery … hepatitis … e-coli … we’re going to have a huge problem very soon. ”

  A drop of sweat ran into Franklin’s eye. “Does the air conditioning work?” he asked as he rubbed his face.

  “No. Ventilation is functioning, but not cooling or heating.” The administrator shook his head. “When will power and water be back on?”

  Franklin had no answer, but knew it wouldn’t be soon. “Conserve fuel for the generators, triage your patients, and post an armed guard in the pharmacy.”

  Color faded from Emerson’s face. “So, it’s going to get worse?”

  “I think so.” Franklin bit his lip. “Make a list of your most urgent needs and give it to Corporal Bickel, our medic. That is the best I can do today.”

  As Franklin left the hospital and walked back toward the vehicles, gray smoke hung heavy in the air. He unfolded his map and looked for their next destination.

  Keller hurried to him with wide worried eyes. “There, my home. That’s next,” he pointed. “We’ve got to go. Now!”

  Franklin followed his gesture. Smoke rose from a white wood-frame apartment building a couple of blocks away. “Why didn’t you say your home was on fire?”

  “I just spotted the flames.” Keller continued to stare at the burning tower.

  “Mount up,” Franklin ordered. “Let’s go!”

  The convoy arrived in less than a minute. The lead vehicle lurched to a stop. Keller jumped out and pushed through the families clustered along the sidewalk. Ash drifted in the air from orange and red flames that had blackened one side of the building and continued to burn up the wall. The charred ruins of dozens of homes scarred the landscape for blocks beyond.

  “Stay here and guard the convoy,” Franklin shouted to the others as they jumped from their vehicles. Then he followed Keller into the burning building.

  Franklin coughed and his eyes watered as he scanned the lobby. Only a few people hurried down the stairs, and they darted through the smoky lobby like ghostly specters as they hurried out. Franklin held the page close and read the apartment number. Somewhere in the smoke above him a baby cried. He started up the stairs.

  “Major, sir, I’m here.”

  Keller, burdened with suitcases, hurried down the stairs with his wife, Katie, and their baby. Handing the cases to Franklin, Keller said, “Please take these, sir,” and disappeared up the smoke-filled stairwell.

  Eyes wide with fear, Katie stared in the direction her husband had gone.

  Anger gripped Franklin as he choked on the smoke and struggled to inhale. Had Keller returned to the fire to get more from his apartment? “Let’s get your baby out of here,” he said to Katie. “Then we’ll find your husband.”

  Outside, he pointed to Privates Kohen, Rankin, and Thomas. “Go to apartment 214 and get Keller. Drag him out if you have to.”

  The three disappeared into the growing clouds of smoke.

  Families crowded around the convoy, seeking answers.

  The soldiers couldn’t provide much information, but they handed out water bottles to all who asked.

  Katie opened one, drank deeply, and then washed her infant’s face.

  Bending at the waist, Franklin drew in a deep breath. Then he drank, coughed, and spit. When able to both breathe and see, he focused on the lobby entrance. Why had Keller gone back?

  Smoke billowed as the door swung open. A soldier stumbled out and fell to his knees, coughing. The medic ran to his aid as a second and then a third soldier emerged from the burning building.

  Franklin hurried to the soldiers he had sent in as others provided water. “Where’s Keller?” he asked the men kneeling near the entrance.

  One of them pointed back inside.

  Franklin’s gut churned. During his career he had lost several men under his command. He didn’t want to lose another to a fire.

  Two forms emerged from the smoke. As they slumped to the concrete steps, Franklin recognized Keller and a woman holding a baby.

  The mother coughed and gagged. Still struggling to breathe, she jiggled the baby. “No … no.”

  The infant made crying motions, but no sound escaped. Franklin felt helpless. “Medic!”

  Corporal Bickel took the child and thumped it on the back. The infant whimpered and then wailed.

  Still holding her baby, Katie ran to her husband with water for him and the woman.

  Franklin turned to Keller as he poured the water on his face and then drank.

  “Why did you go back in? Is that woman a friend?” Franklin asked with growing irritation. “Is that why you went back?”

  “No, I heard the baby crying when I came out of the apartment. I had to try to find them. Is everyone out?”

  “I sure hope so.” Franklin’s ire softened. “I’m not sending anyone else in. Load
up your family and things in the truck.” He allowed a weak grin. “We’ll pin a medal on you later.”

  An angry inferno now consumed the upper stories of the apartment building.

  “Mount up,” Franklin ordered. Over the radio, he said, “Drivers, we’re leaving in one minute.”

  “What are we supposed to do?” a man shouted.

  Franklin stared at the desperate and now homeless families as he struggled for an answer. “Go to the nearest fire station.” Would anyone be there? They hadn’t responded to this fire. “Maybe the Salvation Army or one of the other local churches.” The words sounded callous and hollow, but what could he do? His resources were limited and he held out little hope of resupply. Looking out at the blocks of charred rubble, he worried about Carol, James, and Logan. Were they now homeless—or worse?

  The convoy drove along several burned-out streets and then reached a major boulevard that had acted as a firebreak. Seeing the unharmed homes beyond, Franklin inhaled a deep breath and prayed that his family had been spared.

  Keller and his plow blade swept several cars aside as the convoy crossed from blackened ruins into a typical residential neighborhood. Every night Franklin drove this way, past familiar homes, to his own house, and this portion had never taken long, but today the Humvee seemed to only inch forward. He forced himself to sit still and breathe as they passed the last couple of side streets.

  When the convoy turned down the road toward his home, Franklin smiled with relief. The entire street appeared unscathed.

  Several people stepped out and watched as the convoy slowed. When the vehicles neared his home, Carol hurried onto the porch with Logan.

  Franklin jumped out and nodded to Ted, his nosy neighbor, watching from his kitchen window.

  “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” He hugged Carol tight and, despite regulations, kissed her. Then he hugged Logan. “I’ve been worried about all of you. Where’s James?”

  “He went to check on a friend.”

  “Emma.” Logan snickered.

  “The next block over.” Carol pointed.