by Harley Tate
With another push of a button, the control panel began to glow. Tucker spun around in the chair with a smile on his face. “Think of it like a skywave instead of a groundwave. During the day, we’re limited by the sun’s effects, but at night, we can harness the atmosphere to broadcast for thousands of miles in the right conditions.”
Madison shook her head. She had no idea the radio she grew up scrolling through in her parents’ car and the one she listened to in the greenhouse at UC Davis were built on so much science. “Did you learn all of this in your astrophysics classes?”
Tucker shook his head. “No. My dad was a HAM radio operator. It’s actually because of him that I’m into astrophysics at all.” The corners of Tucker’s smile slipped as he mentioned his father.
“Sorry.” Madison tried not to bring up Tucker’s parents. She couldn’t imagine what it had been like losing the pair of them as a kid.
“It’s okay.” He brightened. “Let’s see if this works, shall we?” Tucker turned back around and reached for a knob, twisting it until a burst of static filled the station.
Madison’s father patted Tucker on the back. “Good job, Tucker.”
“Did you know this would work?”
Her father shrugged. “I thought it might. I’m not an expert like Tucker here, but thanks to all the international flights I’ve been on lately, I’ve learned a bit more about radio waves and how they function.” He turned back to the control panel. “Now we have to hope someone is out there.”
Chapter Thirteen
WALTER
Communications Building, CSU Chico
9:00 p.m.
The first hint of static transforming into voices sent Walter’s stomach straight into his throat.
“—inside Saddleback College. It’s bad down here. Stores are all looted. Everything’s either on fire or burned to the ground or smashed into bits. A bunch of military came and blocked off Los Angeles. We can’t get in and they aren’t letting anyone out.”
Walter swallowed. He knew what those barricades were like.
“San Diego’s the same way. They haven’t come down as far as Mission Viejo, I guess we’re not important enough.” The man broadcasting let out a half-snort, half-laugh. “My friend Ricky went up to the barricades yesterday, trying to learn something about his parents inside. He got a gun pointed at him and told to back off or he’d have a bullet in his chest.”
The man paused and Walter exhaled. It was the same across the entire state of California. No power. No assistance. Nothing but barricades and a bunch of national guardsmen scared shitless and without pay.
“We need help. Food and water and an explanation for what the hell happened. Where is our president? Our governor? Shouldn’t they be on the radio? Shouldn’t we have heard by now? We can’t be the only radio station running on solar power, can we? Again, this is Jake from Saddleback College.”
Tucker clicked the dial. It didn’t take long to find another voice.
“—saying years. That can’t be true, can it? No power for years? If it weren’t for the wind turbines up here we wouldn’t have anything. How will we survive without power? We’re only sixty miles outside of Portland. When I stand out on my porch at night, I can still see the fires burning. Those people can’t survive much longer.”
The woman’s voice cracked on the last word and she paused. Walter reached out and took his daughter’s hand. The entire West Coast was in the dark. He’d seen it from up in the air, but he knew Madison held out hope.
“Will the government let people starve? Will they step in to help or just hide somewhere and do nothing? I can’t believe this is America. We used to stand for something. Believe in something. Now…”
Tucker moved the knob and the woman’s voice faded into static. “Let’s see if we can find someone farther east. I don’t know how long of a charge the solar panels have. Without the sun shining, we could run out soon.”
Walter nodded and waited as Tucker scrolled through more static and more voices, moving on when they determined the station was still on the West Coast.
“Wait! Go back!” Brianna spoke up for the first time in a long while. “I thought they said Chicago.”
Tucker clicked back slowly until a voice filtered back through.
“The mayor declared martial law, but it’s not doing any good. Every drug dealer and petty criminal in this town has a gun, but none of the good people do. We’re barricaded in our homes and offices. Trapped. I heard the police are leaving. The national guard are abandoning their posts. The grocery store on the corner still has food, but the owner won’t take cash. He’s demanding crazy things like prescription drugs and gasoline and fuel. What twenty-something has a spare can of gasoline in his apartment?”
Walter glanced at his daughter. The muscles in her jaw twitched as she ground her teeth together. Was she angry? Sad? In shock? Walter wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t know how. He squeezed her hand.
“I thought about bartering with my half bottle of Xanax, but then I wondered if maybe I shouldn’t just keep it. When the food runs out, a bottle of pills and a bottle of scotch might not be a bad way to go. So much for living the good life. A job in the Loop, an apartment with a view of Lake Michigan, and I’m going to die because the power won’t turn back on.”
He laughed, cold and hollow. “So much for all this modern technology! My boss rigged the solar panels so that we could broadcast in the event of an emergency, but he didn’t think to hook them up to anything but the damn transmitter! So here I am, a radio DJ, sitting in the dark, talking to no one until my luck runs out. This is Billy D, broadcasting from the heart of Chicago.”
Tucker turned down the volume. “Now we know it’s as far as Chicago.”
“And it doesn’t sound good.” Tucker reached for Brianna’s hand and held it, his eyes as full of fear and confusion as those of his friends.
Walter wished he could do something to show these kids they would make it. But he didn’t know where to begin. If what all these broadcasters said was true, it didn’t matter how far they ran or how long they waited. At some point, they would have to accept that society as they knew it was gone.
He nodded toward the controls. “Let’s try a few more. It’s pitch black out now. We might get lucky and find some broadcasts from the East Coast.”
Tucker slipped his hand out of Brianna’s and turned back around. After fidgeting with the knob for a few minutes, he landed on a promising voice.
“Again this is Sergeant Lee Branson, I’m a 25Q with the 63rd ESB out of Fort Stewart.”
Walter interjected. “Fort Stewart’s in Georgia.”
The three kids leaned in to listen.
“I’m broadcasting on a modified HCLOS radio hooked up to my Humvee. I don’t know how long I can broadcast before they find me and bring me back, but I swore an oath when I enlisted to support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic, and I’m aiming to uphold that oath to the best of my ability.”
Walter gripped the back of the chair, his knuckles turning white from the force.
“I’ve talked to my superiors, they’ve talked to theirs, and everywhere in the Army, the story is the same. The United States as we know it is gone. Without power, the government has already fallen apart. Members of the House and Senate fled their posts, concerned more about their families than their constituents. The president is alive, but completely ineffective. He refused to implement martial law for the first week, insisting all of the scientists were wrong and that the power could be resorted in short order. He said even if it was a lie, we should tell people not to worry, that it would come back on any day.”
The sergeant exhaled in disgust. “How can I look a woman and her children in the eye and lie to her? I’d be sending her to her death. It might not be today or tomorrow, but every day she waits to get food and water is a day she doesn’t have.”
The radio crackled and Tucker fiddled with the knob, trying to kee
p the signal.
“Even the guys in my unit are leaving. All we have to eat are MREs. There’s no way to pay anyone for their service. It’s a mess. Fort Stewart is okay. All the base families have opened their homes to families living off base and they’ve developed a rationing system for the food and water stored onsite. The barricades have been closed and the whole place is on lockdown. But—”
The sergeant paused. “I just keep thinking about everyone else. The millions of Americans out there on their own with no food or water. I’m sitting up on this hill, broadcasting this message in hopes you hear me. No one is coming to help you. Get what you can, do what you can now, because this moment? It’s the best chance you’ve got to survive.”
The radio crackled again and Tucker turned the knob, trying to get the signal back. Walter stepped away, turning to face the windows of the radio booth. All of his worst fears were true. The blackout hit not just the West Coast, but all of the United States. For all they knew Canada and Mexico were equally powerless.
No help would be coming for the millions of people trapped inside major cities across the country. With little food and water and nowhere to go, how long could they live? How many millions would die over the next month? He thought about their meager supplies back at the house. Whatever they had would need to last as long as possible and soon, their strategy would need to change.
Walter turned back around and caught the wide eyes of his daughter in the light of the flashlights they’d propped up around the room. She smiled at him. “I guess you were right. It’s nationwide.”
“Seems that way.”
He could tell from the way she held her expression that Madison fought off a wave of tears. “What are we going to do?”
Walter rushed up and wrapped his arms around her. She might not be five years old and clinging to his leg, but Madison was still his daughter and she needed him. Maybe now more than ever. He ran his hand through her tangled hair. “We’re going back to the house, getting you cleaned up, and then we can talk to your mother.”
“I mean the future, Dad. What are we going to do? How are we going to survive?”
He planted a kiss on Madison’s head before pulling back. “One day at a time.” Walter glanced up and cleared his throat. “Who’s ready to get out of here?”
Brianna and Tucker both raised their hands.
“Good. Everyone grab a flashlight and let’s go.”
Tucker stopped him. “Can we grab some of this gear too? I think I can make a portable radio that will work with a car battery. It’ll give us a chance to listen to any more news out there.”
Walter nodded. “All right. Brianna, you’re in charge of weapons. Madison, you take the lights. Tucker and I will gather up anything useful here.”
Everyone set to work and in minutes, they were walking out of the communications building and into the dark.
DAY TEN
Chapter Fourteen
TRACY
863 Dewberry Lane, Chico, CA
7:00 a.m.
“We’re already at capacity. The back of the Jetta is scraping against every speed bump we cross, and the Jeep has so much gear tied to the top, it could topple over in a strong enough wind.”
“We can pack tighter.” Walter wrapped his fingers around Tracy’s arm and pulled her close. Even in the dim light of the pantry, his eyes still held so much warmth and love. “You heard the broadcasts, hon. We have to take as much as we can.”
Tracy exhaled. Everything her husband said was true, but she didn’t see how they could take any more. When they walked in late the night before, Tucker set to work. He rigged up the car battery Walter had pulled from his rental car and the radio components they took from the campus building.
Within an hour, Tracy was listening to voices from across the country delving into their worst fears and bitter memories. Heartbreak and hunger awaited so many over the next few weeks.
She should have slept and regrouped in the morning, but Tracy couldn’t shut her eyes. Every time she tried, her eyelids popped back open and visions of her wounded daughter with a shotgun in her hands filled her mind.
She got up and started an inventory.
Thanks to the house they had co-opted as their own, Tracy guessed they had enough food to survive four more weeks. Liquid would be tight, but they could make it last by using the juice and water from any canned goods and reducing showers to wet wipe downs and braided hair.
They could stay at the little house a few more days, eat the bulky food that didn’t travel or store well, and then take what remained on the road. Peyton and Drew were in no condition to travel anyway. Although Peyton could carry on a conversation, he still suffered the lingering effects of the concussion. And Drew couldn’t speak more than a sentence before exhausting himself.
Time was such a double-edged sword now. On the one hand, every day they spent in one place meant another opportunity to forage and plan and make their long-term supplies last. But it also meant more risk. The street outside might be quiet now, but it wouldn’t be forever.
People would find them and they would have to fight.
Again.
She leaned into her husband’s embrace and closed her eyes. “We need a few days, Walter. Drew and Peyton are still too weak to travel. Maybe if we scout around, we can find a bigger car. Then we can take more.”
Walter ran his hand up and down her back, soothing away the tension. “Have I told you lately how much you mean to me?”
Tracy pulled back and searched her husband’s face. “We haven’t had a lot of time to think, let alone talk.”
“I know. And that needs to change. Now that we know more about… the future… we need to start acting accordingly.”
“What are you saying?”
Her husband smiled, eyes wandering over her face as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “This isn’t a temporary hardship. We’re not on a race course just trying to make it to the end.” He paused. “There is no end. It’s only this.”
“You mean this is as good as it’s going to get.” A furry nudge against Tracy’s leg made her start. She bent down and Fireball mewled as she scooped him up. Cats always had a way of showing up to prove a point.
Walter reached out and ran a hand through his fur. “We need to make the most of every moment. Ever since the power went out, I’ve been on a mission. Whether it’s landing a plane in the dark or getting back to you or heading to Truckee, I haven’t stopped to slow down for more than a half an hour.”
Tracy raised an eyebrow. Her husband had always been the on-the-go type. Even when they took a vacation to unplug and recharge, he couldn’t sit next to her in a beach chair and watch the tide roll in. He needed to be up with the sun, hiking and exploring and seeing somewhere new. The end of the world couldn’t have changed him that much.
“I can’t believe you want to slow down. That’s not the Walter I know.”
He shook his head. “Not slow down, but…” He glanced at the pantry shelves as he tried to put his thoughts into words. “Prioritize. It’s like the saying we used to throw around in the Corps. Slow is smooth and smooth is fast.”
Tracy thought the words over. It reminded her of Girl Scouts and how so many skills took careful practice to gain proficiency. Rushing through a sewing project or an archery lesson only resulted in loose stitches and missed targets.
She nodded. “We need to stop running and think through our next steps.”
“Exactly. I don’t want to leave here until we’ve exhausted everything Chico has to offer.”
“Then we should go to the Agricultural Department.”
Tracy turned around to see their daughter standing in the doorway. With the sun from the kitchen windows backlighting the space, Madison looked more like a shadowy ghost than a live teenager. But her words carried real weight.
“Brianna told me about it when we were waiting for you in the communications building, Dad. She says it’s almost as big as UC Davis. That means seeds and pla
nts and fertilizer and maybe even livestock.”
“We don’t have a trailer to haul any pigs or cows anywhere, Madison.”
“The Ag department must. Animals mean food. Survival. After what we heard last night, we need to think long-term.”
Tracy let go of her husband and smiled. “She’s definitely your daughter.”
“Indeed.” Walter held out his hand and Madison walked up to him as she placed her palm on top of his. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Ugh. Since when did the pantry become the hot spot for family bonding time?” Brianna walked into the small space, scrunching up her nose as she slipped past Tracy to survey the supplies.
The Sloane family broke apart after a quick hug. Walter disappeared into the kitchen and Tracy turned to Brianna. It had to be difficult to watch the three of them together when Brianna’s family could be a hundred miles away worried sick. “I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get to Truckee.”
Brianna nodded but didn’t make eye contact, focusing instead on the bag of flour in front of her. “Thanks.”
“Madison mentioned you two talked last night?”
The twenty-year-old nodded again, but didn’t speak. Brianna was so tough and composed in a crisis it was easy to forget she was less than half Tracy’s age.
“Do you mind staying here a few days so we can load up on supplies and maybe find a new vehicle?”
“No. I don’t mind. It’s the right call. The more we can bring up to my parents’ place, the better. The property is big enough for livestock, and there’s a portion that’s easy to clear, but my parents probably didn’t think that far ahead. Getting there was always the first priority, you know?”
She shot a quick glance at Tracy and then turned back to the shelves. The quiver in her cheek expressed more than her words ever could. Brianna was worried and homesick and probably exhausted.
