“What's wrong?” Tyler asked. “Are they closed?”
“It looks like they're out of business,” Lance said.
“Yesterday, Mrs Petersen said the power went out because of the sun and plasma,” Tyler said. “Is that true?”
“Yeah, it's called coronal mass ejection. It happens when a lot of plasma gets released in outer space.”
“Why does it happen?”
“Because sometimes there are disruptions in the magnetic field,” Lance said. He thought about how he could make an eight-year-old understand. “Think about when it rains. Remember when we had the house and it rained more than usual? It would cause the basement to flood sometimes. When there is more of something than usual, it can cause problems in the earth.”
Lance and Tyler heard a loud crashing sound. They turned around and looked toward the closed corner store across the street.
A group of people had broken the glass windows, and were now making their way inside.
Tyler's heart thudded as he viewed the shocking scene. “What are we going to do then?” he asked, directing his attention back to his dad.
Lance thought about it for a moment. In his mind, he was going over all the different scenarios, considering his limited options and the different implications that were likely to follow each one of them.
“Well, for now, I think it's a good idea to get out of the city,” Lance said.
They started walking toward the car when they heard another loud smashing sound coming from across the street.
Tyler stopped in his tracks, clearly disturbed about what he saw. People were leaving the store with stolen goods, dropping them off in their cars, and then coming back for second and third helpings.
“Come on, Tyler,” his dad said. He was developing a headache. The town he was once so familiar with now seemed overwhelmingly foreboding.
Chapter Six
The swift breeze carried a scent of smoke. Somewhere in the distance, a large building was on fire. Since the communication networks were still down, the fire department was unable to respond to the inferno.
The power had been out for three days now, with no signs of it coming back on in the foreseeable future.
It had been relatively peaceful the first couple of days, but looting had increased drastically in the past twelve hours.
Businesses were continuing to close their doors, and grocery store shelves were severely depleted.
After seeing a great deal of looters and rioters rampaging through the streets, Tyler was beginning to understand the danger of the situation.
Lance had procrastinated about leaving town and heading to the pacific northwest. He wanted to wait for this horrendous ordeal to turn around.
He had hoped with great enthusiasm that the power would turn back on. If only it did, he would schedule another interview at the gym, and hopefully get the position. Being the optimist that he is, he had envisioned it working out that way.
But things were getting worse, and gasoline was only going to get harder to get as more time went by.
Along with the rising crime, temperatures were starting to climb to uncomfortable levels, as well. He wanted to leave.
With careful deliberation, Lance turned on the engine and shifted into DRIVE. He drove to the edge of the gym's parking lot and stopped. He looked into his rear-view mirror to take one last look at the gym that had been like a second home to him.
“Where are we going?” Tyler asked.
“We're leaving town,” Lance said. He looked both ways before pulling onto the street. He thought about stopping for gasoline, even though he had almost a full tank. But it looked like the gas station across the street was closed.
Tyler turned his head and stared out the rear window. He watched the gym building dissipate in size as the car drove further away.
Then it was gone.
* * * * *
After passing the Illinois and Iowa border, Lance and Tyler stopped at a visitor's center, which was surprisingly still open, even though the place was running on backup generators for power.
“What caused all of this to happen again?” Tyler asked. “A coronal what?”
“It's called a coronal mass ejection,” Lance said, glancing up from the bathroom sink. He was washing his face. “But I'm not sure if that's what caused the power outage. A guy at the back said there was a solar flare that disrupted the communication network, and a CME could sometimes follow a solar flare.”
“Communication network?” Tyler asked.
“The phone lines.”
“If it's not a CME, what else could it be?”
“I don't know. It could be another terrorist attack. Remember when we had one not too long ago?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, they might have struck again.”
Lance had as many questions as his son did. When they exited the bathroom, Lance approached the woman behind the front desk. “Have you heard anything about the power outage?”
“The last I heard, someone told me it's an EMP. They were saying they were unsure whether this was an act of terrorism or a CME. But they've been ruling in favor of a CME. As of right now, they have more evidence of unusual weather patterns than they have of terrorist-related activity.”
“Are they saying how widespread the EMP is?”
“It's affecting the entire country and other parts of the world. I actually didn't find that out until a few hours ago, when a state trooper came in here.”
“It's probably not a terrorist attack then,” Lance said. “Unless it's a group of terrorists that are attacking different parts of the world all at once.”
“Whatever it is, it caused an EMP. They have definitely confirmed that the power grid is down.”
“Did they say when the power will come back on?”
“No.”
* * * * *
They got back into the car and disappeared into the late evening darkness.
Tyler was eating a slice of plain bread. “Where are we going?”
“Oregon,” Lance said. “The pacific northwest is our best bet.”
“Why?”
“They have milder weather over there. It hardly ever snows during the winter, and it doesn't get real hot during the summer. There's also a good chance that the regions near the coast will get help quicker. Since they're close to the ocean, that means help from foreign countries will be able to arrive quicker. The coast guard will also be nearby.”
Even though it was seven-thirty in the evening, the highway wasn't as crowded as Lance thought it would be.
He assumed the lack of traffic was because the power outage had significantly impacted the fuel delivery system, which prompted people to conserve more fuel by not driving their vehicles.
Additionally, most modern cars were heavily reliant on electrical components to function. Perhaps driving a seventeen-year-old car was not such a bad thing after all. It looked like nearly all the functioning vehicles on the road were fairly old cars.
It made him wonder how far he would get before the gasoline stations ran out of fuel. He looked down at his fuel gauge and saw that it was nearing the empty mark.
He sighed, then pulled off of the highway to search for a gasoline station.
His car hadn't given him any serious trouble yet, and he was hoping it would stay that way.
A three-gallon canister of gasoline was stored away in the trunk, but he was saving it for an absolute last resort type of scenario.
“How long will gas stations be open?” Tyler asked.
“Until they run out of fuel in their underground tanks. That's what I assume, anyway.”
After pulling off of the ramp and onto the main road, Lance caught a glimpse of the most crowded gas station he ever saw.
The car began to slow.
Tyler cringed at the sight of all the panicked people condensed into such a small region. “You're not going to stop here are you?”
“I don't know when we'll find another functioning gas s
tation.”
Chapter Seven
Lance pulled up behind a long row of cars, and waited.
This particular gas station had battery-powered pumps, which seemed to be taking longer than the ones he was accustomed to using.
Tyler rolled up the windows. “When I go inside to pay, stay in the car with the doors locked, okay?”
“Alright,” Tyler said uneasily. He took a sip of grape juice from the plastic container.
They could hear loud voices barking back and forth at each other.
“Be careful not to spill anything on your shirt,” Lance said. “Until the power comes back on, it doesn't look like there's going to be any open laundromats.”
Tyler lowered the plastic container and placed the cap back on. “How far is Oregon from here? Will it take longer to get to than Michigan?” He remembered the vacation trips they would take to Michigan every autumn. He remembered it would take the length of a school day to get there.
“Yeah, it's much further. It will probably take us at least a few days to get there, as long as nothing goes wrong.”
Three different car horns sounded, and then the line of vehicles began to move forward.
“How come it's so crowded?” Tyler asked.
“Because most of the other gas stations are probably closed.”
Lance tried to think back to the last time he had an oil change. It was close to a month ago. He also checked his tire pressure almost every day, and several hours ago, the gauge showed that he had the proper amount of air in each tire.
For now, he just had to get to Oregon, preferably in a timely fashion. All the other economic problems could wait until afterward.
Lance reached into his pocket and extracted his wallet. He had less than a hundred dollars, but money was not a concern.
If the current circumstances remained in place, money would likely be useless in the very near future.
He thought it would be better to focus on actual items, like food, water, and gasoline, rather than paper currency.
If anything, he was hoping to get rid of his paper currency fast.
The car in front of Lance finally moved away from the pump. Wasting no time, Lance pulled up to the nozzle, and turned off the engine. “Okay, stay right here,” he said, hitting the lock on the door and slamming it shut behind himself.
Tyler could see his dad hurrying into the station.
* * * * *
A handwritten sign was taped to the glass door.
It read:
CASH ONLY
NO CREDIT CARDS ACCEPTED
After standing in line for a minute, Lance walked up to the counter, where the service clerk shot him a mean look. It was the look of a person who had been dealing with numerous difficult people all day. He was expecting Lance to be no less difficult than any of the other people he had encountered.
“Hi,” Lance said, placing the money on the counter. “This is for pump five.”
* * * * *
A strange man was eyeballing Lance's car. He had a smile on his face, appearing to be friendly. He was with three other people who all seemed to be standing around, doing nothing.
Tyler took notice, but he was trying not to make eye contact with him.
The man exchanged some words with his three friends. Then they all turned and looked at the car.
The next thing Tyler knew, the man was walking toward him.
Tyler stared straight ahead, trying not to notice the stranger.
Maybe he'll go away.
The man walked up to the passenger's window and knocked on the glass.
Tyler slowly turned and looked at him.
He was motioning Tyler to open the door.
Tyler ignored him.
But the man persisted. He knocked on the glass again, and this time, he spoke. “Young man, can you help me out?”
Tyler continued to ignore him, but he was growing increasingly fearful.
“Can you help me out? I just want to ask you something?”
Tyler had a basic understanding that people with functioning cars were a target for criminals. He knew that many lurkers were desperate for supplies, and that they would try any tactic they could think of to gain access to someone's house or car.
“Can I just ask you something?”
Tyler finally decided to acknowledge the man. “What do you want to ask me?” He immediately felt remorse. He knew he wasn't supposed to talk to strangers.
“I can't hear you,” the man said. “Can you open your door please?”
“I said what do you want to ask me?” Tyler asked. His voice was considerably louder than before.
The man stared at him confusedly, as if he were struggling to understand what Tyler had said.
Tyler stayed firm, refusing to open the door.
At the corner of his eye, the man saw someone walking speedily toward them.
It was Lance. He was staring at the man, ready to fight if necessary.
The man frowned, as if he were disappointed for losing out on an opportunity to rob someone. He turned and walked away, empty handed.
Chapter Eight
By the time they made it to the Nebraska and Wyoming border, it was close to seven o' clock in the morning the following day.
It was the fourth day of being without power, and Lance was consistently aware that the clock was ticking.
Each day that went by brought the country a step closer to the collapse of the dollar. He didn't even know if martial law had been declared or not. So far, he had not encountered any law enforcement officers.
He had driven all night, while Tyler slept in the backseat. During that time, he made just one stop at a gasoline station.
He was tempted to keep driving, but soon noticed he was losing his coordination.
It was time for him to slumber for at least a few hours. He pulled into the right lane, preparing to exit the highway.
There were not a whole lot of vehicles on the road.
The trip was beginning to drain their energy, and Lance and Tyler had been silent for most of the morning.
Tyler was trying to keep himself entertained with his toy action figures. But for some reason, playing with action figures in the car was never the same as being in a house. He felt trapped in a constant state of confinement, limited by the lack of space.
More room to stretch meant more room to play. The car just wasn't as fun, and it was taking a psychological toll on him.
The sun was shining brightly, but for the most part, the hot temperature was only noticed when they were stationary. Cruising down the highway with the windows rolled down provided a welcoming relief.
As the next exit came into view, Lance changed his mind and switched back to the left lane. He didn't feel like he could afford to take any breaks yet. Society was getting worse with every passing day, which only made traveling harder.
* * * * *
After being turned away at three different gas stations, Lance finally managed to locate one that still had some fuel to spare.
Finding a gas station with battery-powered pumps was one thing; finding one that still had fuel was an even more daunting endeavor.
“Can I get out of the car this time, dad?”
Lance looked around, as if to surveillance the area.
It was still early afternoon, and there didn't seem to be too many people around. Most of the looters were still sleeping; still tired from spending the previous night rampaging through the streets.
“Yeah,” Lance said. “Stay close to me, and lock your door.”
* * * * *
After filling his tank to the brim, Lance took three empty water containers and filled them with gasoline also.
He put them in his trunk, next to the three-gallon gas canister. Now he had six gallons to spare. He would have bought more, but he had just spent the last of his money. If he needed more gasoline in the future, he would have to start trading food for it.
Tyler was running back and forth, trying to stretch
his legs.
“Come on, Tyler. Time to go.”
As he got into the car and started the engine, Lance took a minute to think about how much further he could get with the gasoline he currently had.
His car was capable of getting twenty-five miles to a gallon on the highway. Multiplying twenty-five miles by his seventeen gallon tank capacity, he would be able to go another four-hundred-twenty-five miles without stopping for gasoline.
That was not including the additional six gallons he was storing in his trunk, which added another hundred and two miles.
Five-hundred miles was possibly enough to get him to the easternmost part of Oregon, but that was just a rough guess, and possibly wishful thinking.
* * * * *
An hour and a half later, Lance exited the highway and pulled into the parking lot of a large park. Tyler needed to stretch, and Lance just wanted to take a break from driving.
Lance sat down on the first bench he saw. “Don't go too far, Tyler,” he said, opening a packet of pop-tarts. “Stay where I can see you.”
Tyler ran into the field, kicking a soccer ball around.
As Lance consumed the cold pop-tarts, he thought about the restaurant dinner dates he would go on with his wife.
She had died in a car accident a little over a year ago. Lance couldn't help but think she probably was better off having not been around to experience all of this; the nuclear attack, the financial ruin, the homelessness, and the EMP.
Someone had left a newspaper on the bench. Lance picked it up and skimmed through it. The date showed that it was four days old. But even four days ago, they seemed to know what was going to happen.
The main article talked about the solar flare, and how scientists were predicting it had a good chance of leading to a CME.
He tried to read further, but his eyes were having difficulty staying open. He was exhausted. He placed the newspaper back on the bench and closed his eyes.
The plan was to rest his eyes, not to induce sleep.
He continued to listen to the sound of the soccer ball being kicked around in the field.
CME Apocalypse Fiction Page 6
