by T. L. Payne
As she straightened back up, she felt faint. Her legs felt weak. But she knew she shouldn’t give in to fear.
No, I need to get home.
Dad said never to wait because things would only get worse as society crumbled. I have to make it out of Chicago.
“I just need to stay with the Andrews and make it through the burbs,” she murmured to herself.
You can do this, Maddie, her dad’s voice said inside her head.
I hope so, Daddy. I truly hope so.
Chapter 4
Interstate 70
Marshall, Illinois
Day of Event
When the Beckett Hall High School bus pulled into a McDonald’s parking lot just off Interstate 70 in Marshall, Illinois, Zach Langston and his classmates were still hours away from making it home from a field trip to Washington, D.C. While the other students headed inside the restaurant, Zach stayed outside to checked in with his mother and send a text to his sister. He pocketed his phone, picked up his pack, and went into the restaurant, taking his place in line behind his best friends, Jacob Morton and Connor Haas.
“Dude, why do you carry that heavy-ass pack everywhere you go? You have your molly in there or something?” Jacob asked, slapping Zach on the shoulder.
After picking up their food, Zach, Jacob, and Connor took their meals to a table outside. Zach and his friends were in a fierce debate about who was stronger, Captain Marvel or Wonder Woman, when the sound of grinding metal and shattering glass interrupted their conversation.
The boys stood to get a better look. Cars were piled up like cordwood in the intersection. More cars plowed into the heap of wreckage. Smoke billowed from hoods of cars. People spilled out of the restaurant to gawk at the scene.
“What happened?” a girl asked.
“The lights are out. The traffic lights aren’t working,” another voice in the crowd said.
“Did someone call 911?”
“I tried, but my phone is dead.”
“I had service a minute ago, but my phone is dead too,” another girl called.
There was a flurry of movement as Zach, Jacob, Connor, and the other kids pulled their phones out to check them.
“Anyone have cell service?” Mr. Dean asked.
Everyone shook their heads.
Mr. Dean walked over to Zach’s table and stared at the wreckage.
“What do you think, Mr. D?” Jacob asked.
All the students at the private college preparatory school loved Mr. Dean—even kids who did not have his classes liked him.
“I’m not sure, Jacob. Must be a storm somewhere that took out a transformer station. That could take out a cell tower, maybe,” Mr. Dean said.
A round man in his late sixties stepped out of his car and looked around the parking lot.
“Anyone have jumper cables? My car won’t start,” the man said.
A woman in an SUV two spots over poked her head out of her car door and said, “My car isn’t working either.”
Standing to his feet, Zach looked to Mr. Dean.
Zach’s heart plummeted. Reaching down, he snagged his pack off the bench. He was just about to heave it over his shoulder when Mr. Dean grabbed his arm.
“Don’t, Zach. Wait. We have to be certain.”
“There is only one thing I know of that can knock out cell phones, cause a power outage, and make cars quit working.”
“Shush, Zach. We don’t want to start a panic. We came here as a group. We need to stick together. Just hold on and I will make sure we all make it home.”
“But my dad always said…”
“I understand, but we aren’t near a big city. Look around. This is the extent of the commercial businesses.”
Looking around, Zach saw only a Walmart Super Center and a gas station. There wasn’t much else.
“If it is an EMP, it is not going to get better with time—only worse. I want to be home by then,” Zach said.
Lowering his pack onto the chair, Zach ran his arm through the strap, ready to grab it and run. He wasn’t sure how quickly things would go to hell, but he wasn’t letting his guard down. Unlike his mother and sister, he believed everything his dad had said about the need to be prepared. He had been eleven when his dad had died—not old enough to understand all the political stuff his dad talked about. He’d researched it since his death. He’d read the books in his dad’s office. He had taken them before his mom boxed everything up when they moved in with his step-dad, Jason.
The crowd in the parking lot grew. It seemed the crowd somehow sensed something different about the power outage, and everyone’s voices were full of fear. Zach had read that when people’s ability to communicate and move freely was taken from them, it can cause a sense of powerlessness. That kind of fear was dangerous. The fear of what could happen next could cause some people to panic and do things they usually wouldn't.
“Bro, this blows. I have plans with Zoe Lambert tonight. Who knows what time we will get home now,” Connor said.
Although Zach wanted to tell him the bad news, he refrained. Connor wouldn’t believe him. Before, when Zach tried sharing his thoughts on being prepared with Jacob and Connor, they’d looked at him as if he was crazy.
“Zach, we are going to move everyone back onto the bus. It will be easier to keep track of everyone,” Mr. Dean said.
Nodding, Zach picked up his pack and headed toward the bus.
“All right everyone, listen up. All Beckett Hall students and faculty—please make your way back to the bus,” Mr. Dean called.
After giving his name to the teacher with the clipboard, Zach boarded the bus. He returned to his seat in the back next to the rear exit door. He stepped over Jacob and Connor’s backpacks and flopped into a seat. When Jacob and Connor boarded the bus, Zach stood and let them have the window and middle positions. No way was he being trapped against the window and have to crawl over his friends to escape, if needed.
“Damn—I sure hope we aren’t trapped on this freaking bus all afternoon. This is boring as hell. I can’t even listen to music,” Connor said.
As Zach stared out the window of the bus, he noticed the crowd of people in the parking lot had grown. The occupants of the cars from the intersection had joined the group from Walmart and McDonald's.
“Hey, Connor, lower that window, man. It is freaking hot as hell in here,” Jacob said.
Jacob nudged Zach with his elbow.
“Or is that Zach over here with the hots for Makayla?”
Zach punched Jacob in the arm. Jacob bent over, clutching his injury.
“Damn, boy, no call for violence just because I speak the truth,” Jacob said, his voice lowered.
Zach resisted the urge to look up to see if Makayla had heard him. Jacob could be such a dick sometimes.
After hours stranded on the bus in the McDonald’s parking lot, Mr. Dean allowed the students bathroom breaks in the restaurant. They went in two at a time and for only five minutes. The restaurant manager had shut down food service but was still allowing them to use the facility.
When the manager discovered that the lights were not coming back on, he would have a hell of a time getting all those people to leave. The lone sheriff’s deputy that had shown up on a four-wheeler to keep the peace sure would not be much help if the crowd got ugly.
The crowd in the parking lot became more agitated. A uniformed policeman joined the deputy. The frustrated mob demanded answers from the officers—answers they did not have or would not give.
“Now, folks, settle down and listen to me. We don’t know any more about what is going on with the lights than you do. Our communication systems are down, but I have sent an officer to Ameren Electric to find out when they’ll get the power back on. As soon as I know something to tell you folks, I will. Until then, sit tight here until we get the word.”
Mr. Dean made his way through the crowd and approached the officer. The two men spoke, then Mr. Dean returned to the bus.
“Okay, everyone, s
ettle down. It appears they still don’t know what caused the power outage or the vehicles to stop working, but the chief says that they have a plan in place for an emergency shelter if it doesn’t come back on soon. So, sit tight a little longer.”
Zach wanted off the bus. He knew he should have already been on the road home. He was kicking himself for letting Mr. Dean talk him into staying. But he trusted his teacher. He hoped he would not regret it.
As the chief of police delivered the bad news about the attack and subsequent shelter-in-place order from the president to the weary crowd gathered in the McDonald’s parking lot, many stood staring in disbelief while others grumbled.
“This here is Reverend Williams. He has been gracious enough to open his church for those of you stranded by this event. You’ll be provided with a cot, food, and water. We ask that, for your safety, everyone remain in the church for the duration of the emergency. The sheriff has sent men to Decatur to get in touch with the Federal Emergency Management folks for answers as to what they are doing to help stranded travelers. We expect to have answers for you tomorrow evening.”
There were quite a few groans and murmurs in the crowd, but for the most part everyone listened in silence. Once the police chief was finished speaking, he turned the meeting over to Reverend Williams.
“Good evening. I am Reverend Williams with the Olive Street Christian Church. We have wonderful volunteers who have set up cots in the basement of our church and sanctuary for you fine folks. It is only three blocks from here, but if anyone needs assistance walking, please raise your hand. We will see what we can do to provide a wheel chair. If everyone else would please follow Brother Michaels over there. He’s the one with the red and white banner.”
Zach looked to Mr. Dean. He must have read Zach’s mind, because he shook his head and walked over to him.
“Don’t do it, Zach. It is too far to go on foot. I have to stay here and make sure the rest of your classmates get home safe. You cannot go out there alone. That is just crazy.”
“But—”
“It’s going to get crazy out there. I can’t let you head off by yourself, Zach. I’m responsible for you. You don’t want to get me fired, do you?”
Zach stared at Mr. Dean. He did not want to go stay in some church basement waiting for things to get worse. When the town’s residents received word that the power was not coming back on and food delivery trucks were not coming to restock their groceries, he knew they’d turn on the stranded travelers. He didn’t want to get Mr. Dean fired, though. His shoulders slumped, Zach followed his teacher to the line forming behind the minister.
Chapter 5
FEMA Region Five Offices
Federal Building
Chicago, Illinois
Day of Event
The conference room rumbled with nervous voices. Within three hours of the president issuing a national emergency, Regional Administrator, Reginald Harding, had called together his staff to coordinate response and recovery efforts. As he entered the room, all eyes fell on him as he took his seat at the head of the conference table.
“Okay, everyone, I am going to do my best to tell you what we know so far—which I must confess is damned little. At this point, we do know that our country has come under coordinated attacks from Russia, China, Iran, and North Korea. At approximately 1500 hours today, defense radar picked up two intercontinental ballistic missiles launched from North Korea and directed at the mainland of the United States.”
The room erupted in panicked voices. Some rose to their feet while others sat silently with their hands covering their mouths.
“Please, everyone, settle down. I know this is quite a shock to us all, but we have too much to do to fall apart now,” Harding said.
After a moment, the room quieted, and the administrator continued.
“North Korea’s missiles were shot down by Ground-based Midcourse Defense, with none making it to their targets.”
Everyone in the room let out a sigh of relief.
“However, as we focused our response on North Korea, we came under coordinated attacks from Russia, China, and Iran. Multiple ballistic missiles were launched from those countries. The first were anti-satellite missiles. A nuclear missile was detonated over the United States, setting off an EMP. The electromagnetic pulse has taken down the power grid, communications, and transportation to most of the country.”
The room’s occupants moaned and wept as the administrator continued.
“Although we have lost communications with Washington, we have our directives. We will follow the framework that we have all worked with for the last several years. We’ve planned for this. Each of you know your part. I trust you to implement those directives in as expedient a manner as conceivably possible. Now let's get to work, folks.”
He rose to his feet.
As the rest of the staff exited the conference room one by one, Response Division Director, Gerald Aims, sat quietly in his seat until everyone had exited the room. As the last person left, the Administrator closed the door.
“All right, Gerry, what do you know?” asked the Administrator.
Gerald Aims ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair and scratched his head before answering.
“Well, sir, the reality is we are screwed.”
Harding scowled.
“But we—”
“I know, I know. We have plans and directives. But we did not plan for this. My sources in Intelligence had been warning about coordinated cyber attacks to take out our satellites and the electric grid. There were some in the intelligence community who were concerned about information received from sources inside Russia. The source said they had been running large scale civil defense drills with their citizens in anticipation of retaliatory strikes from the United States and our allies.”
“And you think this may be that coordinated attack?”
“What else could it be? The report from the EMP Commission said that most cars and electronics would be unaffected. My folks are saying they were wrong. What we are dealing with here is a super EMP like Dr. Pry predicted.”
“What specifically leads you to believe that we have been hit with a super EMP?” Harding asked.
“For starters, more than half the equipment that DOD contractors said would work in an EMP doesn’t. Half, Reggie. That means half the trucks needed to take aid to the communities, half of our communications, half of our generators. Anything that was out in the field is gone. The reports I’m receiving are that the only equipment that survived is in the facilities hardened for an 85 kilovolts per meter event—and a quarter of those will require repairs before they are operable. None of our facilities were hardened for an 100,000 volts per meter Super EMP attack.”
“The generators for this building are working,” Harding said.
“Only the ones that weren’t plugged into the system. That’s why there was a delay before our lights came back on,” Aims said.
Aims leaned forward and placed a hand on his binder on the table.
Harding stood and walked over to the window.
After a long pause, Harding turned and said, “I concede that will impact our relief and recovery efforts to the region.”
He paused again and turned back to the window.
“But we have orders in place, Harding said. “We have a national recovery framework. The greatest minds in the country created those plans with all these things in mind. It is our job to do our best to carry out their plans.”
Aims turned in his seat to face Harding.
“I understand that we have plans in place. All the career folks will implement that plan to the very best of their abilities. I don’t doubt that. But like in our hurricane and other disaster responses, we have too few people with too few resources for the task,” Aims said.
“I disagree. We have learned from our mistakes. We have pre-positioned stockpiles of supplies and equipment. We have embedded staff in every major emergency management department in the region,” the ad
ministrator said.
“Sure, we have pre-positioned supplies and hardened facilities to withstand an EMP. But we never prepared for a Super EMP. We can’t sustain the entire region for the duration of an emergency of this magnitude on what we have stored.”
“We knew that all along. That is why we have prioritized areas.”
Director Aims rolled his shoulders and let out a sigh.
“We don’t have enough resources to sustain the priority areas for the time that it would take for the recovery division to establish new supply chains. We don’t yet know if we will ever be able to reestablish supply chains. The rumors—”
Harding shook his head.
“We knew that as well. That is why executive orders were issued allowing us to seize what we need from distribution centers and other facilities. I know that will not sit well with most folks, but those are the orders we have in place—understood?”
“Understood,” Aims replied.
“Now, let me know when your people have contacted the mayor and chief of police. We need to make sure they understand the emergency orders. Who is Chicago’s emergency management director?”
“Ted Sims.”
“Oh yeah, I remember him. He is a team player. You have your guys brief him and get to work securing the metro area as soon as possible. I do not want this city erupting into mass chaos on us. That would severely restrict our operations here. You let them know that the federal building and the metro area surrounding it are our highest security priorities at the moment.”
“What about the suburbs?”
“Secure the interstates leading to the Joint Field Office facility, as well as the major routes to the state capital. We already have security measures for major infrastructure elements like nuclear power plants, so we will rely on those teams to implement their plans and let us know if they need additional resources. But at this moment, Chicago is our priority. Once we have the city buttoned down, we can move assets to outlying areas as the local authorities need us too,” Harding said.
