Geostorm The Pulse: A Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (The Geostorm Series Book 2)
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“Around the side,” she replied, once again without taking her attention away from the computer. She made no attempt to mask her snide attitude. “Motorcycles are all you can afford.”
Chapman couldn’t resist. “I can afford plenty. You just insist upon getting paid with gold or some such.”
The woman shrugged and pointed toward the side of the building.
Chapman retrieved Isabella, and they made their way to the motorcycle inventory. As they walked through the neatly arranged bikes, she asked, “Do you know how to drive one of these?”
He hesitated. “Well, I drove a friend’s dirt bike on the farm once. I rode a perfect wheelie until I ran into a barbed-wire fence.”
Isabella abruptly stopped. “Chapman, maybe we should try another car dealer.”
“No, I’ve got this. I mean, how hard could it be? Besides, we need something with good gas mileage in case …” His voice trailed off as he walked briskly away from her. He’d found the perfect solution, and he was on a mission to check it out.
At the back of the building sat a gently used BMW R1200GS, which included a complete sidecar mounted to its side. He was like a little kid in a candy store.
“Isabella, this is the one. It’s perfect and it’s under ten grand!”
Ninety-nine ninety-five, to be exact.
She caught up to him and stood with her hands on her hips. “You expect me to ride in that sidecar like some German officer in World War Two? No, Chapman, I can’t do it. Let’s go find a real car.”
He plead his case. “No, you can ride behind me on the padded seat. We’ll use the sidecar for our bags and whatever else we need to travel. Come on, it’ll be fun!”
She rolled her eyes and then giggled. “Okay, maybe a little bit of fun. I need sunglasses, a scarf, and toothpicks.”
“Why do you need toothpicks?”
“To pick the bugs out of my teeth as we ride to Indiana.”
Chapman couldn’t help himself as he rushed to her, lifted her in a bear hug, and twirled her around and around. He loved her more than life.
Chapter 29
Brookfield Zoo
Chicago, Illinois
Kristi leaned back in her office chair, with her feet propped up on the corner of her desk. Her computer keyboard was in her lap and the mouse in her right hand as she navigated the World Wide Web in search of research papers discussing other instances of unusual animal behavior similar to the ones they’d experienced.
Tommy mimicked her posture by slouching in a chair, feet propped up on the other corner of her desk, researching the zoology journals on the Wiley Online Library website for more information on the phenomenon they were witnessing. Interestingly, they remained singularly focused on studying their scientific resources and took no time to glance at the news headlines.
Occasionally, Tommy complained about the bandages she’d wrapped around his hand and the throbbing pain the wound caused. She’d acknowledge his complaints with the occasional grunt or I’m sorry, but mostly they resembled an old married couple lounging in their respective easy chairs, pointing out something of interest from time to time, but not necessarily hearing one another.
The two had stayed at the zoo the entire time since Tommy had been attacked, hunkered down in Kristi’s office, searching for answers. They’d consumed anything edible from her small refrigerator and cupboard full of snacks, occasionally walking outside to stretch their legs and get fresh air. Otherwise, they were oblivious to the events transpiring around them. They were intent on confirming their theories about the animals’ behavior. Just as important, the two were looking for any scientific research that might help alleviate the mental suffering and confusion being experienced by the creatures they lovingly cared for.
Someone, or something, began to pound on Kristi’s office door, causing both of them to jump out of their chairs in fear. They didn’t say a word as they stared at each other, wondering what to do.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
A steady three-knock demand to be opened. Its constant beat was unlikely an animal and more likely a cop. They were right, sort of.
The door handle turned, and a gust of fresh air preceded the head of the zoo’s security team as he entered her office.
He was curt and to the point. “Dr. Charles, um, I mean Boone, you’re needed in the administration building.”
His brusque approach struck Kristi the wrong way, considering the circumstances. She directed her ire at the security chief. “Yeah, well, your presence was required at the big cat’s habitat yesterday. Where were you and your team when one of our zookeepers was being mauled and Mr. Bannon was being attacked?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t know anything about Mr. Bannon, and our patrols came across the other situation late in the evening.” He began to make his way toward the door, when Kristi stopped him.
“That’s all you’ve got to say? I didn’t know? Where are your people? Why aren’t the phones working?”
The security chief stopped and stared outside. Without turning around, he said, “Most of them quit after the incident at the bear habitat.” He didn’t elaborate, nor did he address the issue with the telephone lines.
“Wait. What happened there?” asked Tommy.
The man simply shook his head and reminded them both to go to the administration building immediately. Then he walked away.
“What the heck was that all about?” asked Tommy as he wandered to the door and watched the security chief walk along the sidewalk with his head hung down.
Kristi leaned over her computer keyboard and exited her programs. Her research had yielded everything from beached dolphins off the coast of West Africa to an unusual feral hog migration from Canada into the U.S. To be sure, abnormal animal behavior was not unexpected, but the frequency and number seemed to be increasing. It certainly was at the Brookfield Zoo.
She stood and pulled her lab coat off the back of her chair. She checked to make sure the masking tape was still in place covering the name of her ex-husband. She pulled it down and brushed out the wrinkles. “Let’s go find out.”
The two of them walked briskly through the zoo complex. It was eerily quiet and desolate. Normally after hours, zoo personnel scampered about, cleaning up after the visitors that day and caring for the animals at night. The zoo would come alive in the evening hours as the animals sensed they were alone for the most part. They knew they were captives and, over time, grew tired of being on display. It was only the newcomers to Brookfield who were animated for their human watchers upon arrival, but as time passed, they gradually became disinterested in their surroundings.
Tommy opened the double glass doors for Kristi as they entered the administration building. In stark contrast to the nondescript block and brick buildings that housed the zoologists and the veterinarians, the admin building was ornately designed and impeccably decorated. As part of the Chicago Zoological Society, the executive team at the zoo had to kiss many a rear end in order to keep the zoo funded. Like most zoological parks in America, they couldn’t operate on gate receipts and tee shirt sales alone. It took government money, private donations, and legacy grants via animal lovers’ estates to stay afloat.
A security guard pointed Kristi and Tommy in the direction of a small auditorium at the end of the hallway that stretched the entire length of the building. As they walked toward the open doorway, Kristi glanced at the photography of Marsel van Oosten, four-time winner of the prestigious Wildlife Photographer of the Year competition.
The Dutch photographer was known for taking risks in order to capture the best shot in the wild. His photographs depicted animals in a peaceful, tranquil state. Kristi wondered if van Oosten would be interested in photographing the current state of the animal kingdom at Brookfield Zoo today.
As they entered, Dr. Barbara Boston, the zoo’s executive director, waved to Kristi and pointed to two chairs in the front row of the auditorium.
“I think we’re all here now,” she announced a
s all eyes were on the two until they took their seats. As they made their way down the aisle, several attendees commented on Tommy’s extensive bandaging and shrugged, as they were unaware of what had caused his injuries. As everyone settled down, Dr. Boston began.
“I’m sorry for the late hour meeting. Frankly, I assumed all of you were home at this point, and it took a little while to locate our late arrivals, who were still at the zoo. Let me tell you what’s happening.”
Tommy and Kristi exchanged glances and then looked around the room at their coworkers. Most of them were dressed in casual clothes as if they’d just been dragged out of their easy chairs. Tommy and Kristi were the only ones who appeared disheveled and exhausted. What they were about to learn transcended the difficulties they’d faced in their small part of the world.
Chapter 30
Brookfield Zoo
Chicago, Illinois
“Please, let me continue,” admonished Dr. Boston as she implored the attendees to stop chatting among themselves. “Although there has not been an official announcement from the president, it appears that the recent power outage caused by solar activity across Eastern Europe has led the administration to believe that a similar event could occur in our country. There are far more questions than answers at this point, but I must tell you this is very disconcerting for all of our lives.”
The group began to talk again, and Kristi turned in her chair to study their faces. She was exhausted, but they were also frightened.
The executive director continued. “If the reports are true, the president intends to turn off our electricity, perhaps as early as tomorrow.”
Another murmur rumbled through the attendees, many of whom had been home with their eyes glued to the news. Kristi and Tommy had been on the internet all afternoon, but their focus was on scientific research, not perusing the news websites.
“Please, everyone, allow me to finish. Now, as I said, this is strictly rumor and conjecture based upon anonymous sources, but many experts are saying this is a distinct possibility. The reason I’ve called you all here this evening is to discuss how this impacts Brookfield Zoo and especially the animals within our care.”
One of the attendees from the rear of the room shouted out a question. “How long will the power be off?”
“I heard it could be weeks or even months,” another attendee replied.
Another person chimed in. “That was FoxNews and their conspiracy theorists. CNN said it would only be temporary.”
Dr. Boston grew frustrated. “Listen up, people. I don’t know how long it will be turned off, or whether it will be at all. But, as a group, we need to discuss our options in all scenarios.”
“What do you mean by options?” someone asked.
“Well, first of all, the zoo is not equipped to operate without power. And by operate, I’m not referring to opening up for visitors. By the way, on that note, we’ll be closing to outsiders until further notice.”
The room burst into an uproar. Even those who’d been glued to the television all afternoon and were aware of the White House leaks hadn’t realized their jobs were directly affected by this.
One person shouted their questions. “What about us? What are we supposed to do?”
Dr. Boston was glad to reply and get back on point. “Well, for one thing, I hope that all of you report to work, as we intend to continue paying you. Now, if the power grid is down, we don’t expect those of you who live some distance away to be here. But if you can walk or ride a bicycle, for example, I would expect you to come and help out.”
A man stood up in the middle of the aisle. “Dr. Boston, with all due respect, I believe you’re being naïve about this. When the power is shut down, this city is going to descend into chaos. Heck, it practically is lawless on a normal day. There’s no way I’m leaving my house when the power is cut off.”
A number of voices joined in his sentiment.
“Yeah, same here!”
“I’ve got my own to care for!”
“It’ll be too dangerous.”
Kristi was becoming angry. She stood, turned to the group and began firing off a series of very logical questions. “If we stay home, who will care for the animals? Are you gonna let them starve? What about water? If the power is off, the city can’t pump water to us.”
“Everyone,” interrupted Dr. Boston, “Dr. Boone raises valid points, which is why I’ve called you all here. We have to come together to address our responsibility to care for these magnificent animals.”
The panicked, angry members of the zoo’s administrative staff continued to bombard Dr. Boston with questions.
“Do you mean like the bear that mauled the security guard?”
“Or the lions that ate half my staff?”
She responded, “Yes, all of them. I don’t have a handle on why these accidents have occurred at the zoo of late, and frankly, I look to some of you for an explanation. But that is a discussion for another day. For now, we have to come up with a plan of action to care for all of them.”
Tommy raised his hand. “Why don’t we divide into teams and work in shifts? I think I can speak for Dr. Boone in saying that we’d be glad to care for them.” Tommy turned to the others in the auditorium and conducted a quick, albeit approximate head count.
Thirty-three were in attendance.
He asked, “How many will join us and commit to caring for our zoo while the country works through this crisis?”
At first, nobody raised their hands as they looked at one another. It resembled a classroom of ninth graders who didn’t know the answers to their teacher’s question. Most attendees slunk down into their chairs, hoping to hide from Tommy’s gaze. Eventually seven reluctantly raised their hands.
Tommy was incensed, and disappointed. “Seven? Really? You oughta be ashamed!” He swung back around and collapsed into his chair, shaking his head in disgust.
Dr. Boston took control of the room. “This is what I was afraid of. We simply cannot care for our animals with a handful of reluctant volunteers. To leave them in captivity with the hopes that the power grid will come on quickly is irresponsible. I cannot imagine these beautiful creatures dying of starvation or dehydration.”
“We can’t let them go,” said a woman in the rear of the auditorium. “The predators would sweep through the city at will, killing people right and left.”
Another chimed in, “Plus, studies have shown that animals in captivity can’t survive when released back into the wild, much less Chicago. Look what happened to our primates.”
“Yeah!” shouted another one, and suddenly, Kristi felt all eyes upon her.
After an internal investigation, many blamed her for teaching Knight too much and irresponsibly allowing him to become a part of her daily activities. The final report deduced that it was Knight who had taught the chimps how to escape. In fact, many believed she was hiding Knight at her home after he disappeared that day, and several drove by on occasion in an effort to confirm their suspicions.
Dr. Boston surveyed her subordinates, and a wave of sadness came over her. Her demeanor changed completely as she said the words.
“Then it leaves us no choice but to consider euthanasia.”
Chapter 31
ALF Outpost
Bolingbrook, Illinois
Jerry Watson was dressed in all black clothing with a mask covering his face when he greeted his guests at an abandoned warehouse in Bolingbrook, Illinois, that evening. Many of the attendees of the hastily called gathering knew who he was but understood his need for anonymity nonetheless.
Watson, a former Bolingbrook firefighter, had been the poster boy for PETA, literally. A dozen years ago, he was selected by the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals organization as their Hottest Vegan Firefighter in the world.
He’d suffered from various physical ailments and changed his lifestyle to eliminate any foods that weren’t vegan. PETA, whose motto reads, in part, that animals are not ours to eat, praised Watson for
his adoption of the vegan lifestyle and rewarded his good looks with the Hottest Vegan Firefighter honor.
The notoriety changed his life. He quit his job as a firefighter and devoted his life to animal rights. His wife, a zoologist on staff at Brookfield Zoo, supported his decision, as her salary was sufficient to pay their bills.
As Watson became more involved in the organization, he gradually became more fanatical in his beliefs. After a couple of years, PETA disassociated themselves from him because of his extremist activities in the name of animal rights. He fell into the welcoming arms of the Animal Liberation Front.
PETA had once tacitly supported ALF until their measures became so extreme that the FBI declared them to be a domestic terrorist group. PETA supported animal rights, whereas ALF focused on their version of animal liberation.
Those who became involved with ALF had a deep-rooted ideology that animals were equivalent to human beings and therefore deserving of legal rights. They had an intense perception of injustice and felt compelled to act in order to correct the exploitation or killing of animals. Such actions were most often extreme and criminal in nature.
Watson accepted the call to action by his new friends at ALF and immediately became self-radicalized. He searched online for manuals, which served as how-to guides for committing criminal acts on behalf of helpless animals. Treatises like the Black Cat Sabotage Handbook and Arson Around with Auntie ALF served to educate him on how to conduct terrorist, anarchist activities for his chosen cause.
They were known to kidnap animals from private collections and zoos when the opportunity presented itself. If they couldn’t liberate a captive animal, they would direct their hostilities at the facility or organization that housed them. They’d firebombed zoo administrator’s homes. Hijacked trucks transporting exotic animals on the interstate. They’d even held a Minnesota family hostage until the mink-pelt farm where the husband and wife worked agreed to release between thirty and forty thousand farm-raised minks. The action of the ALF extremists turned out to be disastrous.