EMP [Collateral Darkness] | Book 4

by Tony Mastrolacasa

  “Well, considering we’re down to a couple of rifles and a few handguns, I guess my answer would have to be… all of them.”

  Chapter 16

  “Hey, Dad! You gotta get out here and see this!” Joey shouted, sticking his head in the camper door.

  “Huh? What? What’s wrong?” Stu asked, stammering as he struggled to wake up.

  “Airplanes, Dad! Tons of them!”

  Crap!

  “Okay, I’m coming!” Stu said. “Go call the others.”

  “Everybody’s already out here, Dad.” Joey said. “Hurry up!”

  Stu quickly threw his blankets off and sat up with a groan. The sunlight instantly struck him in the face as it beamed in through the window. He had no way to be sure, but it had to be getting close to 8:00 a.m. already. Judging by the crook in his back, it may have even been later than that.

  It was 9:00.

  As he hurried to find his pants, Stu began to hear the long forgotten, but unmistakable whirr of aircraft engines. He had no idea what they were, who they were or where they were headed, but they were definitely getting louder.

  “Come on, Stu, you’re missing it!” he heard his wife call out from the lakeshore.

  That additional summons was all Stu needed to forgo his socks and run straight for his boots and coat. The t-shirt he had slept in would do just fine for now. By the time he finally stepped outside, the sound level coming off of the lake had increased considerably. He jogged towards the dock where the others had gathered while he struggled with the zipper on his coat.

  “Get a load of this, Stu.” Terrell shouted, looking back with a huge grin.

  Everyone in camp was staring out over the frozen lake as dozens of enormous aircraft approached directly overhead. At least 10 distinct squadrons were easily discernible, each consisting of 12 planes flying in a tight box formation. Together, they formed a wing of 120 planes with about a half a kilometre in between each squadron. They were at considerable altitude, but they were clearly military transports of some sort. Corey had George’s binoculars to his eyes and was currently trying to identify them. As their only military man, Corey stood the best chance of recognizing the roundel insignia under their wings.

  “Please tell me those are ours, Corey.” Stu said, raising his voice to be heard over the combined roar of their engines.

  “Friendlies for sure, Stu.” Corey replied. “American and British mostly, but I think there’s a few Italian, Indian and Israeli markers up there too. That last squadron on the right is Australian.”

  “You’re kidding me… Australia is here?” Brian asked.

  “I can just make out the circled kangaroo.” Corey replied. “The official logo of the Royal Australian Air Force. Why does that surprise you, Bri? Australia’s part of the Commonwealth.”

  “No, no, it doesn’t surprise me for a second that Australia would come to help.” Brian replied. “They’ve always been a great friend and partner to Canada. I just find it strange that they’d come in from the east. The trip across the Pacific is much shorter.”

  “They’re probably rallying in the U.K.” Corey said. “Makes sense that they’d all fuel up and launch from the same place.”

  “Well, I think it’s awesome that they all came!” Grace said.

  “Welcome to Canada, boys and girls!” Cole added.

  George happily placed an arm around his daughter and her boyfriend and asked, “Can you tell what type of planes they are, Corey?”

  “Globemasters, Galaxies… a lot of Hercs.” Corey replied.

  “What’s a ‘Herc,’ Dad?” Joey asked.

  “It’s short for Hercules, Joey.” Stu replied. “Those are all really big military transport planes.”

  “They’re probably Super Hercules airplanes, right Daddy?” Jenny asked. “You and Mom used to fly in them.”

  “That’s right, Jenny.” Corey replied as he passed the binoculars back to George. “Do you remember their model numbers?”

  “C-130J.” Jenny immediately replied. “The Globemasters are C-17s and the Galaxies are C-5s.”

  Jenny’s incredible ability to remember even the smallest details of everything she had ever seen or heard never ceased to amaze her father. Years ago, Jenny’s mother had been killed in Afghanistan while on a routine training exercise. Her mother’s death had devastated Jenny emotionally, of course, but it had also altered her mind in a strange and wonderful way. A ‘curious side effect,’ was the best explanation her doctors could offer Corey at the time.

  Despite their protests, Corey and Jenny had walked away from those doctors and never looked back. In whatever way Jenny would eventually choose to use her incredible gift, it wouldn’t be to satisfy the curiosities of a bunch of researchers in lab coats.

  “Looks like the cavalry has finally arrived!” George shouted as he looked through the binoculars.

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t look like they plan on landing anywhere around here.” Sydney said.

  “Wherever they’re going, I’m sure they’re desperately needed.” Nichelle added. “This place is probably paradise compared to what they’re flying into.”

  “They might be headed out west.” Brian said. “There would have been a lot of military personnel stranded out there after that second volley of EMPs.”

  “You don’t think they’re just here to pick up their friends and head home again, do you?” Terrell asked.

  “Doubt it.” Corey said. “They might be taking people home, but not without dropping off a division or two of replacements first. Those transports will be loaded with all kinds of equipment and supplies… probably civilian aid packages too. This entire country is one gigantic relief operation now, guys. I imagine the skies down in the States are full of planes by now too.”

  “That’s assuming they aren’t still fighting out west, Corey.” Brian said. “Civilian aid comes in a distant second to feeding the war machine.”

  “Ha. What else is new?” Fran asked.

  “Could be a little of both.” Stu said. “Let’s say it’s a little of both.”

  Brian smiled and said, “Done.”

  ◆◆◆

  The funeral service for Hess was an excruciatingly painful affair. There was no mingling or story telling, as is common at such events, there were only stunned and sobbing family members and their grief stricken friends. Nate tried to say a few words for his wife, but his attempt quickly devolved into an unintelligible disaster. They politely allowed him to finish anyway, as nobody else thought that they could do any better. Nora would later suggest holding a proper memorial for her in the spring when they were emotionally capable of honouring Hess’ life more appropriately.

  Olivia was absolutely beside herself with sorrow, heartbroken at the thought of living without her mother and best friend. At home in Niagara Falls, Olivia had a large social circle and many interests. Since they took up residency in the isolated north, however, Olivia only had her mother. Hess could always be counted on to lend her an ear and Olivia had found their new relationship extremely rewarding. She was the only one capable of giving Olivia any semblance of the friendship that she profoundly missed and desperately needed. With Leo’s departure and his group’s unfortunate plan to not return again in the foreseeable future, she felt truly alone.

  Billy Campbell and Tucker Green had volunteered to handle the actual burial, so the family could be spared the unimaginable agony of completing the task themselves. Everybody quickly paid their final respects and slowly walked back to their homes to leave the young men to their work. None of them knew it, but they had each thanked Hess silently for what she had done for their families, for her sacrifice.

  As promised, the five American families had been out on watch since yesterday, rotating in and out continuously and taking turns looking after their young ones. The burial site was on the opposite side of the house, so they weren’t able to see what was going on, but they all knew that theirs was the far superior position. They kept their minds off of their numbing fi
ngers and toes by discussing the aircraft that they had seen earlier in the morning.

  “I don’t know about all that.” Jamal said. “I doubt there were more than 15 or 20, tops.”

  “I’m telling you, man, the sky was full of them.” Seth said. “I bet you there were over 40.”

  “Ha! 40 transports… Dream on, Seth.” Jamal said, laughing now. “You don’t know shit, Private First Class Numb Nuts.”

  “Laugh it up, Corporal Douche Nozzle, but I’m right about this one.” Seth said. “I know they were hard to make out through the trees, but they were spread out across the entire sky. Unless the Europeans have suddenly decided that flying in formation is passé, that means there were at least four squadrons up there. I don’t know how they do things in Europe, but in the States, four transport squadrons can be as many as 48 planes.”

  “I hate to admit it, but I think Seth might be right, Jamal.” Dan said. “…about there being 12 transports to a squadron, at least. I have no idea if you’re a douche nozzle. Of course, being a retired mud rat, what the hell do I know?”

  “A retired what, Sarge?” Seth asked.

  “Ha. Mud rat.” Dan replied. “It’s an old term I picked up from Major General Ross Mitchell, our division commander back in Iraq. I heard they’ve since promoted him to lieutenant general. Nobody there deserved it more.”

  “That’s pretty cool.” Jamal said.

  “Get back to work, you dirty stinkin’ mud rats!” Seth said, trying his best to imitate a general officer. “That totally works.”

  “Ha. You’re on your way, son. You’ll be a general in no time.” Dan said. “For now, though, you’re just a dirty stinkin’ private first class, so you get back to work, I’m going back to bed. However many planes were up there, they ain’t landing anywhere around these parts, so there’s nothing they can do for us anyway.”

  “True that, Sarge.” Seth said.

  “Hal wants to meet with us all after dinner, says he has a few things to discuss.” Dan added. “I’ll probably already be out here again, but if I’m not make sure somebody comes to get me.”

  “You got it, Sarge.” Jamal replied.

  “I’ll wake up Russ and Daniella, let them know to come relieve you.” Dan said as he turned to leave. “I think Collin was planning on coming out on watch too, either him or Molly. One of them was gunna pull babysitting duty.”

  “Ha. Babysitting duty.” Seth said with a slight laugh. “I bet you haven’t said that too many times, Sarge.”

  Dan stopped and said, “We sergeants said that every time we left the barracks, son.”

  ◆◆◆

  Mars was out front again, clearing the way in the plow truck, as Xander rode shotgun. Ken followed in the tanker with Bray as his passenger. After their meet up on the highway, Xander had quickly decided that the four top guys would be riding in the trucks while Tom, Geoff, Cam and Easton suffered a while longer on the snowmobiles.

  It was also decided that Xander and Tom’s Skandics would be the two sleds left behind in favour of the two Kawasaki Invaders and two John Deere Liquifires. No longer seeing a need for Ski-Doo’s long tracked workhorses, Xander reasoned that the guys would find keeping pace far easier on Kawasaki and John Deere’s liquid cooled racers. Once they arrived at Mars’ cottage, their transportation needs would be reassessed and reorganized. Until then, however, it was up to the grunts to make sure that Xander had all options available to him.

  With their new found ability to plow the road and a nearly inexhaustible diesel fuel supply, Xander fully intended to utilize the three diesel equipped Minecats at Mars’ cottage as well. Once they dug them out of the snow and got them running again, they would hitch up the trailers and load up their sleds. Only then could Tom and the others also enjoy the relative comforts of an enclosed cab and a warm heater.

  Initially, life on the snowmobiles wasn’t nearly as trying as they had been expecting. It was cold, but with the roadway freshly plowed ahead of them, snow dust was down and the machines were easily keeping pace. The roads were cleaned so thoroughly, in fact, that they eventually encountered a problem.

  Tom led those on the snowmobiles and he was the first to notice that his engine temperature was steadily climbing. He even began to see the occasional hail of sparks spraying out from under his carbide ski runners. Somewhat ironically, the very condition that allowed his sled to move along so effortlessly was also actively trying to destroy it. To

  combat this, he actually had to start skirting the snowbanks to keep his machine from overheating and his skis reasonably lubricated.

  Under normal conditions, the track continuously throwing snow up into the cooler is what kept engine temps in check. With the roads practically down to bare asphalt, though, Tom found that his machine wasn’t getting nearly enough cooling. It was the same condition that snowmobilers commonly encountered when crossing a lake that was glare ice. If they stayed out on the lake too long, no matter how cold the ambient air temperature, the lack of snow cover would soon cause their engines to overheat.

  Tom was content to carry on in this manner for a while longer, but as soon as they stopped again he intended to tell Mars to raise his plow blade a small amount. He needed to leave a little more snow behind for them to use. The very idea that he had to remind a guy from Sudbury that snow machines need snow was extremely annoying to him.

  Mars can’t possibly be that stupid. He’s got to be doing this on purpose.

  Apparently, Tom wasn’t the only one with at least a rudimentary understanding of how snowmobiles worked. Cam had been running his snowmobile up against the snow banks as well. Unlike Tom, however, he refused to put up with the inconvenience any longer. To prove the point, Tom saw Cam go streaking past heading for the tanker. Instead of snow dust, Cam left only a trail of sparks behind as he raced ahead.

  As Ken and Bray looked out of their windshield, watching the freshly plowed road roll under the tanker, Cam suddenly came shooting out from their left. He had somehow managed to squirt his Invader through the narrow gap between the left side of the tanker and the left snowbank. They weren’t sure what he was up to, but the sparks he was trailing gave them some indication. They continued watching as Cam veered to the far right, disturbed the right side snowbank for a few seconds and then steered hard to the left. He slammed into the left snowbank and jumped his sled onto the unplowed side of the highway.

  The snow depth immediately scrubbed a lot of Cam’s speed, but not so much that he wasn’t still pulling away from Ken and Bray and gaining on Mars and Xander. He knew that Mars would never see him if he wasn’t out front a bit, so he squeezed the throttle and hung on. Once Cam was just past the driver’s side door, he began waving his left hand frantically while pinning the throttle to the bar with his right. The moment he saw the plow truck begin to slow down, Cam eased off the throttle and steered towards them.

  Once Mars had the plow truck and trailing camper stopped, Cam rode over to his door and shut his sled’s engine down. Moments later, Ken pulled the tanker to stop directly behind the camper. Tom, Geoff and Easton rode their sleds over the left snowbank and slowly made their way around to the front of the convoy to join Cam.

  “What the hell are you thinking, Cam?” Mars asked. “You gotta death wish or something?”

  “The sleds are overheating, Mars.” Cam replied. “You need to leave a little snow on the road for us, man.”

  “Oh, shit, I didn’t even think of that.” Mars said.

  It was as close to an apology as any of them would ever get out of Mars and none of them would ever think to ask for more.

  “This isn’t the best place to stop, Cam.” Xander said, leaning over Mars’ shoulder. “Can you guys keep going another 15 minutes? We’re almost there.”

  Before he could answer, Tom, Geoff and Easton came to a stop beside Cam. It became immediately obvious that something didn’t sound right. Tom’s Invader sounded fine, but the instant he shut his engine down he knew that Geoff and Easton’s Liquifire
s were screwed. Both of the John Deeres were misfiring and vibrating terribly.

  “Shut them down before you lose them, guys!” Tom shouted.

  “There’s your answer, Xander.” Cam said as he got off of his seat. “We need some time to cool these things down.”

  “Guys, pack some snow up into your coolers.” Tom said. “Get them cooled down.”

  “Where the hell is the cooler?” Geoff asked.

  “What? Are you serious?” Tom asked.

  “Yeah, I really have no idea either, man.” Easton said. “I don’t know shit about snowmobiles.”

  “There’s a big aluminum radiator over the track.” Tom said, dropping to a knee and pointing to it. “Get as much snow stuffed up in there as you can.”

  Geoff and Easton immediately did as they were told, getting onto their knees and scooping armfuls of snow into the space between the track and the tunnel. Tom knew that it may already be too late, but they had to at least try to save them.

  “Weren’t you guys running up against the snowbanks?” Cam asked. “Didn’t you see what Tom and I were doing?”

  “I did see that.” Geoff replied. “I was wondering what you guys were up to. I thought you were just pissing around… having a little fun.”

  “For fuck’s sake.” Tom said.

  “Tom, go grab Bray, will ya?” Xander asked, looking down from the cab. “He’s the small engine guy. He’ll know whether we can save them or not.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Tom said, shaking his head as he jogged off.

  By the time he reached the back of the camper, Tom saw that Ken was already climbing down from his cab. Bray was struggling to get down from the passenger side as well.

  “Xander wants Bray to come take a look at a couple of the sleds.” Tom said as he stopped beside Ken. “I think Geoff and Easton might have cooked their engines. Does Bray need a hand getting down or anything?”

  “Hey, Bray, you doing alright over there, buddy?” Ken called out as he looking through the one metre gap between the front of the tanker and the rear of the camper. He saw that Bray was just starting to come around the tanker’s right headlight.