by Jake Aaron
“The thieves probably got away with stale coffee and yesterday’s popcorn,” Lee said sardonically.
The door on the bank had been forced open, likely to no avail. The city’s only grocery store mirrored the mercantile in Florence, except on a grander scale. The line was longer. Two men with rifles kept order.
John: “It’s a sad sight, but you know what they say: Civilization is paper-thin. I don’t know who said it. It’s so true. Some experts had predicted a loss of 90 percent of the United States population a year after a major EMP event. In the end, maybe only the likes of the Amish and Mormons survive; overseas, aboriginals. These are desperate times!”
Lee added, “On that score, a couple days before Thanksgiving I was talking with the manager of one of the big box stores in Missoula. She told me that without trucks coming in, her store would run out of food in three days. We had an unappreciated finely-tuned machine, a complex apparatus, keeping civilization humming along before.”
John nodded, “Well said, brother. Before!”
Lee: “Hey, John, why would anyone break into a church, for Pete’s sake? Look at that!” Someone had destroyed a huge stained-glass window to open the metal front doors, now agape.
“Think about the fellowship after services at most churches. Their kitchens and pantries are usually well stocked with food,” John explained.
Lee shook his head, “If only I still had my time machine …”
“You and me, both. We’d go back to the way it was, wouldn’t we? Lee, let me take lead for a while. My arms are tired of carrying the rifle.”
They went on, seeing a ranch at their two o’clock. Two people on horseback stood guard in the field around the bison herd, apparently the owner and his son.
John handed his sidearm to Lee. He held up his hands halfway as he walked up toward the older man on horseback. “Sir, we mean you no harm. The only reason I came over is to learn what you know. My friend is helping me get to the armory in Missoula. I hope it works as a check-in. I’m going on my first submarine patrol out of Washington state in a couple of days. Any way for me to get to my duty station that you know about?”
The man relaxed some. “Son, I wish you well. Put your arms down. I was a Marine. I know how it is, but I think you’re out of luck getting there. We went to bed early on the 31st and woke up to nothing working. Damnedest thing!
“Yesterday we noticed some folks eying the herd during the afternoon feeding. My family is doing shifts around the clock. I can’t afford to lose a single animal to poachers!”
John gave him a report on what he and Lee had seen on their trek so far, as well as his theory of what had happened.
“I appreciate the update, son. That’s pretty much what my boy told me about Lolo. One of our conspiracy buffs in town told him the alien Grays and Reptilians were taking over.” He chuckled. “I don’t know. I think I’ll go with your take on things. If you come back this way, say hello. We’ll feed you and your partner a steak.”
When John and Lee were out of earshot, John observed, “Amazing, isn’t it? We exchange a few words, and a previously suspecting man welcomes us back to his house. No wonder con men are so successful.”
*****
Halfway up the mountains to the west, narrow wintry clouds snaked along the beveled terrain like a white cotton belt, frayed on the top. Rounding the first hill of the Blue Mountain area on Highway 93, Lee called out, “This area makes me nervous. The way the highway is carved out of the mountain could have us trapped, and the railroad track off on the right is even worse for getting ambushed. We can’t go left or right much to take cover. And the curvy road limits our downrange visibility.”
“I sense it, too. A real chokepoint,” the naval strategist pointed out. “Let’s get more separation between us.”
Besides a few stranded cars, pickups, and SUVs, the two passed a Walmart food truck stalled in its lane. The semi's driver door was left open. The doors in the back trailer were also open. Looters had removed every item of cargo. John and Lee trekked on seeing more of the same on the highway into Missoula.
Finally, long after daylight had ebbed from the valley, the two hikers sat on the curb at the intersection of Highway 93 and Reserve Street in Missoula. A haloed moon through thin clouds gave them minimal lighting. They shared sandwiches with Mark, a Missoula policeman on bike patrol.
“Guys,” the police patrolman said, “I know you said you wanted to go to the armory. May I suggest you go to the Missoula Armed Forces Reserve Center? It’s further away than the armory, but it’s more likely to be manned. Ten miles away at the wye.
“About half of the police department showed up for my shift yesterday. Of that half, everyone was late. Today there are only two of us on patrol. We’re both bachelors, out here on our own.
“Martial law is in effect. Curfew at dark. I’d give you a written pass, but someone still might just shoot you. My place is a few blocks from here. There’s no heat, but I’ve got blankets and sleeping bags. At least you won’t freeze — or get shot. There’ll be water until it runs out or the pipes freeze. I filled up every container in the house with water after the power failed.”
After getting John’s nod, Lee said, “I think we’ll take you up on that offer. I’m so beat from the forced march today. I have never walked that far in my life, or as fast. What are you going to do tomorrow?”
Mark answered, “A buddy at work and I were talking about biking to Helena to see what they know in the capitol puzzle palace. I think we’ll wind up patrolling Missoula, though. The city needs us. John, you being a submariner, what do you think about our nuclear forces? Do you think they can still function?”
“My bet is that land-based strategic forces were hardened against an EMP attack, at least to the extent that they could plan for that. The folks in Minuteman silos around Great Falls probably have extensive food and water to hold out for months. That’s speculation. As for the naval nuclear deterrent, I can’t comment without giving away official secrets …”
Lee cut him off, “We totally get it, man. National secrets. I do wonder what it’s like for your cohorts at sea. They’ve been gone almost six months, in the case of the crews you’re supposed to replace. When they come back, your crew can’t show up with a full complement. What does the crew that’s now at sea do, turn around for another six months underwater? Would they be able to replenish food and supplies? The questions go on and on. Don’t answer, John. I’m just thinking out loud. We’re in uncharted territory.”
*****
At the Denton Ranch, Zeke and Meagan sat on the edge of their bed after supper.
“Ah, it’s great to be alone together,” Meagan began. “Isn’t it wonderful that Keala is doing so well? I have the last shift tonight. If she keeps improving, maybe we can start having the guys pull night shifts, too. You know, checking on her, keeping the fire stoked, boiling water, and providing security.”
“She has really come around,” Zeke said. “Thanks to you! It will be good to have everyone pulling night shifts.”
Meagan: “I appreciated the marshal coming by. Gives a sense of order. I really need that. I’ve been told that having an alcoholic father will do that to you. How about you?”
Zeke bit his tongue. He wanted to say, “I’m not an alcoholic.” That would be funny in a glib sort of way. Knowing she had just shared a close secret, he reconsidered. “I like a sense of order, too. I tend to think I was born that way, but high school and junior college at a military academy added to that. Of course, you never know. One of my roommates from the Institute rebelled against organized life. He became an artist and lives a life of studied chaos in Taos, New Mexico. You never know. Sorry, about your dad …”
“Zeke, let’s not talk about that. I should not have brought it up.”
And yet she did, Zeke thought. He was beginning to understand what drove Meagan. Lack of daddy’s love led to an insatiable appetite for achievement that will sadly never be enough. Then he took a jab at his own
mental imperfection and his playing amateur psychoanalyst, gaining some humorous self-perspective.
*****
On the outskirts of Kendrick, Idaho, Cody and Joan prepared a campsite off the main highway. They had left the RV in Moscow with all the layers of clothes they could wear. Each had carried a large backpack of food, water bottles, and survival gear. On top of the backpacks were rolled-up blankets.
Fortunately there was no moisture. That allowed Cody to build a small fire. They agreed to trade off on fireguard and armed watch duty. They were still within arm’s reach from the city.
“Joan, I may be overcautious about being robbed. Trust me, it’s a good practice. You saw all the stranded cars on the road. We are going into desperate times. Food is going to be hard to come by. I brought extra ammo and medicine to trade for food. Meanwhile, as our food and water bottles get depleted, we’ll replace some of them with dry kindling and firewood. We’re lucky it didn’t rain or snow today. Are you all right?”
“Just a few tears. I keep hearing you singing ‘I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry’ in my head. I’m scared, Cody.”
“I am too, Joan.” He hugged her, then philosophized, “You can bet that many, perhaps all in the civilized world, are wondering what happened and when it will be over. We’re so used to real-time news and fast solutions. It’s hard to cope with not knowing. Very hard for me to believe food and water shortages won’t lead to mob violence. I think what we’re doing now is our best option. And action is usually the best course when your circumstance seems frozen up.”
*****
The young redheaded lady prepared to go bed in her Hamilton apartment. She put cans and glasses on the floor near the door and by windows. If they were knocked over in the night, she would know there was an intruder. She hid a butcher knife under her pillow and a loaded .38 Colt on the floor under her bed. She tucked her slim form beneath heavy covers and and rubbed her light blue eyes.
The world had gone to hell in a hand basket since the grid went down, she thought. Everyone was turning inward, it seemed. She barely knew her neighbors due to her long working hours. She knew there had been a break-in two doors down — people looking for food. As a result, some of the men in the apartment had organized to watch the building at night. Could they be trusted?
Her genius IQ told her that an EMP attack had probably taken place. No matter, a MENSA membership offered no protection from a society that was melting down. Survival skills were what made the difference now.
She had gathered every blanket she owned for covers. She had topped that off with a sleeping bag as bedspread. She had never been this cold.
As she put her head on the pillow, she resolved to leave tomorrow for her granddad’s old place on the outskirts west of town. The more rural, the better, she thought. Her head felt strange on the pillow with the new short hair. To prepare for tomorrow, she had cut her beautiful long red hair. She laughed at herself for being kept awake by a new hairdo when the world was falling apart.
January 3
Around 3:00 AM, a guard with a flashlight opened Milt’s prison cell with a mechanical release. The electronic lock would not function. “Warden wants to see you.”
Milt walked ahead of the guard down the dark hall. He stepped on the flashlight-lit concrete floor ahead of him. There were no other sources of light.
Minutes later, the warden greeted Milt and explained, “I’m letting you go. No telling how long the power is going to be out. There’s no communication with anyone in the state or the nation. You’re my best prisoner. I want to release those of you who aren’t a danger to the public. You don’t belong in here with the violent offenders. Of course, I can’t let them go.
“Change into these civilian clothes. I’m asking that you head away from Deer Lodge. Go any place in Montana but there. Leave the area. I trust you’ll do that. For the record, I have to let you go. The kitchen food supply has been ransacked. Two-thirds of my guards didn’t come in to work yesterday. I expect even fewer today. People have to take care of their families. And it’s over a four-mile walk from their homes.
“At this rate we’ll soon run out of water and the sewage system will back up. I’m not sure how long I can keep coming in. I have a family, too. Good luck out there!”
Now dressed for the cold, Milt pledged to stay away from Deer Lodge, thanked the warden, and headed northwest on foot. He knew the other released prisoners would head to Deer Lodge. He would keep the warden’s trust. He was a man of character.
As Milt began his journey, he wondered about fate. The conviction that had put him in prison came out of the blue. The complete loss of electrical power leading to his sudden release from confinement, was equally unexpected. What had caused the massive power outage? He could ponder that question on his long trek.
*****
In Missoula, John and Lee awoke before Mark. They ate peanut butter sandwiches and canned peaches. They set out on the last leg to get to the Center. Reserve Street looked like a linear used car lot. The city was one step away from being a ghost town. The few people they saw looked at them suspiciously.
A different bike policeman, Steve, stopped them. Steve inquired about their situation.
“So you two spent the night at Mark’s place. Cool. I’m going to make sure you make it safely down Reserve to the interstate. I’ll be doing loops around you as you go. You know, I’ll keep you in sight while I cover nearby territory. Show the flag, so to speak.”
Steve didn’t shoot any looters, and he knew he couldn’t arrest every one. He arbitrarily picked one here and there to make an example of. Since he couldn’t haul them into the jail, he used plastic handcuffs to anchor them to light posts. “Penalty box. I come back later and cut them loose. Sitting a couple hours in the cold ought to get them to chill out, right?”
John and Lee laughed with him.
Proprietors defending their businesses called Steve over to thank him for being there. They gave him snacks and drinks, which he shared with the two hikers. He explained to John and Lee, “Hey, we never took anything from the public for doing our duty before, but we’re in unchartered territory.”
Leaving Steve’s protection, John and Lee kept their tactical formation going northwest on I-90 all the way to the wye. There was only one vehicle in the lot of the Armed Forces Reserve Center. They knocked loudly on the glass door to get attention. After two minutes a bedraggled sergeant let them in after John showed his military ID card through the glass door.
“What was that?” the stubbled sergeant asked. His uniform was rumpled from sleeping in it.
Hearing the crashing, John sprinted down the long dim hall toward the source. Lee and the sergeant jogged behind him. John caught a teenager who had broken in and knocked over a vending machine. John braced him. He gave the lad a quick lecture on federal law and stealing. On the kid’s way out, John called him back, “Come back and fill your pockets. That’s an order from a United States Navy officer. Make sure you get a lot of peanuts. Keep your protein up! And don’t come back.”
The three headed back to the sergeant’s office with snacks as they exchanged information.
“You’ve been here by yourself since the first of January?” A weary Lee expressed his astonishment.
“Yeah, I drove over on the thirty-first from Helena for my tour. Stuck here since. Been pretty quiet except for that kid we caught. We have some rooms full of MREs and bottled water that I prefer no one else know about. I’ll load you two up with some when you leave.
“I don’t have anything official. Seems like one of those electromagnetic attacks to me. I don’t know of any way you can possibly get to your sub base in Washington.
“Lieutenant, I’m going to enter your name in the official log, including that you checked in. You did the right thing coming here to do that. If all these problems go away tomorrow, it will be good to have covered your ass. Am I right, or am I right, sir?”
John thanked him. “One more thing, sergeant, I’m going to write o
ut a memo that we did this and get you and Lee to witness it. I’ll put it in a plastic sandwich bag to protect it. That way I’ll have something on me when they haul me off for my court-martial.”
“Sir, you’re going to go far in the Navy.” The sergeant saluted John. “Nice to have some company.” He escorted them to the supply room to pick up MREs and bottled water on their way out.
*****
At noon, Keala joined the eight others for lunch around the picnic tables on the back deck. She was able to recount the chaotic beginning of her new year. “When the aircraft touched down, it was as smooth as glass for several seconds. Then the tail broke off. We went sharply left followed by sharply right. All I remember after that was being ejected and sliding on the back of my seat on top of the water. The starry night sky gave me a flashback to Girl Scout camping. It was other-worldly. Then nothing.
“I feel I know all of you, but I couldn’t really, could I? I think I know Zeke really cares for Meagan, but I couldn’t know that either. Just a sense. Which of you is Zeke?”
Taken aback, Zeke raised his gloved hand. He tried to recover from having his private feelings read out loud. “I’m Zeke. Nice to know you, Keala. I take it you know Meagan by now. She can be a real pain, but she’s tolerable if you cut her a lot of slack.”
Everyone laughed.
Meagan knew he was kidding. She shot back, “Look who’s talking!”
The two smiled at each other, after pretended daggers.
“Keala, we all took turns watching out for you. Maybe that’s where you got that sixth sense you’re talking about. Your experience of that kind of feeling is medically documented. I say that as a nurse.” Meagan didn’t acknowledge the Zeke part. She wondered: Had Zeke been talking to unconscious Keala about his feelings? And Zeke had seemed embarrassed at the revelation.
Karen joined in. “Keala, we’ve been talking about your recovery. We don’t want you pushing too hard, but Meagan says your being mobile is the key to a fast recovery. So, if you’re agreeable, we’ll start you on some light chores. This new world that’s been thrust upon us has a lot more manual labor than the old one. I’ll get Zeke to explain more about what we think has happened to our old way of life.”
