CME Apocalypse Fiction

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CME Apocalypse Fiction Page 14

by Blaze Eastwood


  “Any idea what caused the power outage?”

  “I can't be entirely certain, but it could be an EMP.”

  “It can't be,” Edgar argued. “Wouldn't an EMP fry the batteries in those flashlights you guys are using?”

  “These flashlights came out of the storage room in the basement. They were protected by a Faraday cage.”

  Edgar turned around to face Vaughn, who was standing beside him, and then the staff member disappeared down the hall.

  Edgar's eyes were wide. “You don't think it's a coronal mass ejection, do you?”

  Chapter Two

  After Vaughn woke up the next morning and saw that the darkness of the night was gone, he heard a knocking sound on the hotel room door. He assumed it was one of the staff members stopping by to inform him of the latest news on the power outage. But when he opened the door, he found Edgar standing in front of him.

  “I just want to let you know that I'm leaving now,” Edgar said pensively. “So, if I never see you again, I just want you to know that it's been a privilege working with you.”

  Vaughn chuckled, as if he found Edgar's words to be absolutely ludicrous. “You're acting like I'll never see you again.”

  “Well, if this power outage is what I think it is, we can expect the entire economy to collapse, and after that, this company won't be around anymore.”

  “You really think so?” Vaughn asked vehemently.

  Edgar sighed. “You never know. But I'm sure you heard about the solar flare that occurred a couple of days ago.”

  “Yeah. Some people were saying that it might lead to a coronal mass ejection.”

  “Exactly. It looks like the CME triggered an electromagnetic pulse.”

  “You still can't be certain about that, though,” Vaughn argued.

  “Well, I know I don't want to sit idly by at this hotel to wait for the power to come back on. My wife and kids are going to be wondering what happened to me.”

  “Same here,” Vaughn said.

  “So, you're gonna get out of here, too?”

  “Yeah. I think I'm going to stop at the store first to pick up some water bottles.”

  “Good idea. The stores might be closed for a long time after this. You might want to buy food, too; not just water. I hope you have enough cash, because their system is obviously going to be down, so they're not going to accept credit cards as payment. Buy as much as you can carry. By next week, cash might not even be accepted anymore.”

  “Well, I can't carry that much, and I've got a long way to go,” Vaughn said.

  There was a pause.

  “Do you want to walk together?” Vaughn asked. “Which way are you heading?”

  “I'm heading in the other direction,” Edgar said. “Idaho is north of here. I'm heading south.”

  Vaughn nodded.

  “If you want to use the shower, you better do it while there's still some water running through the pipes.”

  “I already did,” Vaughn said. “The water heater isn't working, but a cold shower is better than no shower at all.”

  “Well, good luck,” Edgar said. “Hopefully, my instincts are wrong and the power will come back on again soon.”

  “Yeah,” Vaughn said.

  They shook hands, and then Vaughn closed the door and packed his suitcase.

  Chapter Three

  Vaughn didn't like being alone, and the idea of traveling close to three-hundred miles without any company was exceedingly difficult for him to accept.

  He had actually married Anna a year earlier than he had planned, largely due to the fact that he could never seem to fully adjust to living alone after he moved out of his parent's house.

  The courting stage had lasted only a few months, and then he bought the engagement ring. His job had only paid him twenty-eight hundred dollars a month at the time, but since Anna was making close to that amount, herself, their combined income allowed them to buy a nice house, and soon enough, they started a family.

  They had two daughters and a son; ages five, four, and two.

  He wondered how they were holding up. They had a fairly large food and water supply stored away in their house, along with some electronic devices in a Faraday cage, which made him feel a little bit better. But his mind would be severely strained until he joined his family at home and saw for himself that they were doing okay.

  Civil unrest had not erupted, at least not yet, and many of the people on the sidewalks seemed fairly hospitable, considering they had no power and couldn't use their cars.

  Perhaps the power outage was encouraging them to try harder to stay calm and positive.

  The late-July temperature was mildly hot, and the air was slightly breezy. The sun was sporadically peeking through the narrow gaps in the clouds, and it now occurred to him that he should probably buy some sunblock lotion.

  He walked nearly a dozen blocks before he finally spotted a grocery store that appeared to be open to the public for business.

  A group of shady-looking people stood outside the entrance and exit doors, possibly preying on customers who were exiting the store with bags full of groceries.

  After walking across the parking lot, he headed toward the entrance. Using his peripheral vision, he could sense the shady-looking group directing their attention toward him.

  Vaughn had no weapons on him, and his boxing skills were only mediocre.

  They said something to each other, and then one of the tallest men from the group began walking swiftly toward Vaughn, passing by three customers who immediately scrambled into the store without looking back.

  Vaughn took a defensive stance, wearing a stern, no-nonsense expression on his face.

  “Hey, can you help us out with some change?” the tall man asked. “Even a penny would help.”

  “Yeah, I'll give you a couple of bucks” Vaughn said, reaching into his pocket and extracting two dollars.

  “You're a good guy, man,” the tall man said.

  One of his friends approached from behind. “How much money is he giving you?”

  “Two dollars,” he said happily.

  Vaughn handed over the money. “You know what?” He opened his suitcase. “How would you like to have an extra shirt and suit jacket?”

  * * * * *

  Aside from the refrigerated and frozen items that had to be discarded because of the power outage, the shelves at the store were well-stocked, which gave Vaughn a fair selection of products to choose from.

  If only I had someone to help me carry it all, Vaughn thought. He had the cash to spend; just not the ability to carry all the groceries he wanted to purchase.

  At least giving away some of his belongings to the people outside the store would allow him to make room for a few more grocery items in his suitcase.

  It was early in the morning, and most of the customers in the store looked over the age of sixty-five, nearly twice Vaughn's age. Most of them seemed to be stocking up on the usual things—chips, cookies, and other snack foods. Perhaps they didn't sense the power outage would be a long-lasting one.

  Sticking with the essentials initially—a loaf of bread, bananas, soap, and four gallons of water—Vaughn also bought himself chocolate, ten cans of chili, pop-tarts, plastic spoons, sunblock lotion, and paper towels.

  The grocery shopping was not an adequate distraction for his racing mind. He imagined the journey ahead of him would either break him or harden him, and he was concerned it might be the former.

  * * * * *

  After walking five miles northeast, Vaughn found a sporting goods store. With the intention of buying a tent to sleep in, he entered the building, checking his suitcase at the customer service desk.

  Strolling through the dim aisles of the store, he eventually found the “Outdoors Supplies” section. He looked at the individual products precariously, taking the time to read the features thoroughly, so he could make an informed decision.

  He opted for a lightweight polyester tent with durable poles; one that was sui
table for warm, dry weather.

  After picking out a tent, he also shopped for a small, pocket-sized knife.

  He walked up to the cash register and waited for an employee to ring up the purchases. In the meantime, he absorbed an unusual vibe from the dim, largely silent store.

  There were no voices on the intercom, nor was there any music playing over the speakers, and it made him gravely consider the new reality; that the world around him would never be the same.

  No more could he simply turn on a faucet to get water. No more could he submerge himself in a thought-provoking film at the theater.

  Glimpses of the darkened future were tugging at his racing mind, demanding to be acknowledged.

  But he dismissed them.

  He dismissed them all.

  * * * * *

  Vaughn continued treading through Reno, and as he neared the edge of the city, he saw a motel that appeared to be open.

  He wasn't accustomed to such excessive amounts of walking, and his legs were already starting to hurt.

  He kept picturing the power turning back on, and then catching a ride back to his hometown.

  But even more importantly, he was hoping the communication system would be restored. He wanted to talk to his friends and family; someone who could keep him company. He had always been a social person.

  When he entered the building, someone was behind the front desk to greet him almost immediately.

  Vaughn placed his heavy suitcase on the ground, relieving his arms. “Do you have any rooms available?”

  Chapter Four

  Vaughn didn't even know what time it was when he checked out of the motel the next morning. But the sun was shining brightly enough to make him assume it was at least mid-morning.

  He had spent a portion of the previous evening reading the instructions for the tent and inventorying the parts, and he had practiced setting it up inside the motel room, just before the sun had gone down.

  Squinting in the brightness of the outdoor sunlight, he reached into his pocket and put on his sunglasses.

  As he walked across the street from the airport, he was reminded of his flight home that had been canceled because of the power outage.

  The runway was eerily quiet; a drastic change from what it was just a few short days ago. He stood still and stared at it, and before long, at the corner of his eye, he saw a man walking down the sidewalk, heading his way.

  “Amazing, isn't it?” the man said profoundly, stopping to look at the airport. He had short hair and thin sideburns lining the sides of his face. “If the power doesn't come back on, there are going to be abandoned airports all over the country, not to mention all the other abandoned businesses.”

  “Were you supposed to fly out of here?” Vaughn asked.

  “Yup, I was supposed to fly back to my home in Boise.”

  “Boise, Idaho?”

  The stranger nodded. “Yeah.”

  “I'm heading back to Idaho, myself,” Vaughn said.

  The stranger looked surprised. “Really?”

  “Yeah, I've got a house near the Idaho and Nevada border. You've probably never heard of it. I've got quite a long trip to go on.”

  “If you're heading to the Nevada and Idaho border, that means I've got an even longer trip than you,” the stranger said. “I'm glad I've got a tent, food, and water.”

  Vaughn chuckled. “I did the same thing. I stocked up on food and water, and then I bought a tent.”

  “It sounds like we're like-minded people,” the stranger said. “Maybe we should stick together. It might get pretty scary over the next couple of weeks, when people realize that the power isn't coming back on anytime soon. We can have each others backs if anything happens.”

  “Uh . . .” He turned and looked down the road and saw a group of people breaking into a small store at the end of the block. A moment later, he heard a gunshot.

  The owner was on the roof, defending his business with a shotgun. He had fired a warning shot, hoping to scare them away.

  “Sure,” Vaughn said, turning his head to face the stranger.

  “Great,” the stranger enthused. “My name's Mason.”

  “I'm Vaughn.”

  “It's good to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” Vaughn said, glancing down the block.

  The owner was still pointing his shotgun at a few people who had stubbornly refused to leave the premises. They appeared to be exchanging words with the owner on the roof.

  “Are you familiar with Nevada?” Vaughn asked.

  Mason shrugged. “A little bit. You?”

  Another gunshot went off, and this time, the lingering people in front of the small store began to run away, scattering in different directions.

  “Somewhat,” Vaughn said, crossing the street to avoid the fatal scuffle that had ensued at the small store. “My main place of business is further north. I'm only this far south occasionally, like when the boss schedules a big meeting. I've studied the geography fairly well because I was planning on taking a vacation here a few months ago. I know which rivers run west and which ones flow northeast.”

  Mason followed him. “Well, we just have to make sure we keep going north until we get to Idaho,” he said with enthusiastic optimism. “Do you have a compass?”

  “No. Why? Do you think that will be a problem?”

  Mason shook his head politely. “It would have helped, but I'm not worried about it either way.”

  Vaughn was walking fast. He had picked up the habit of treading speedily when he had gotten his first job at a grocery store. He remembered those days well. The company was often behind schedule, and the managers would consistently pressure him to work faster.

  “Do you always walk this fast?” Mason asked.

  “Pretty much.”

  The man with the shotgun was still on top of the roof, suspiciously eyeing everyone who walked by.

  “So, what do you think of this power outage?” Vaughn asked. “Do you think it was caused by a coronal mass ejection?”

  “Probably. I've been watching the news, and as far as I can tell, it looks like the power outage is basically an EMP brought on by a CME. That's what they had predicted, anyway.”

  “Are you married?”

  “Yeah,” Mason said, walking hurriedly to keep pace with Vaughn. “I've got a wife and two kids.”

  “Then I guess you're as motivated as I am to get home as quick as possible.”

  “It would be nice if we could catch a ride. I saw a few moving vehicles on the street this morning. They must have been a few decades old. I would have paid them all the cash I had in my wallet for a ride back home.”

  “So, what happened?” Vaughn asked solemnly.

  “I couldn't get any of the drivers to stop. They probably thought I was trying to rob them.”

  Aside from the basic information he had extracted from Mason, he knew very little about the man. Was he really going to Idaho? Or was it all a part of an ingenious hoax to kill him and take his food and water?

  Vaughn didn't know, and for that reason, he transferred the knife in his suitcase to his pocket, so it could be more readily available if needed.

  * * * * *

  After fifteen miles of walking, they found themselves near a forest preservation area.

  “Maybe we should camp in there,” Mason suggested. “I don't see any motels around here, and it's going to get dark soon.”

  “Even if there were any motels, I'm not sure how many of them would be open for business,” Vaughn said speculatively.

  “So, I guess it's settled then,” Mason said, heading for the woods.

  They made their way down a bike trail, then cut through a patch of foliage and descended a slope.

  Remaining a fair distance from the trail, they set up their tents, had supper, and retired for the evening without too much trouble.

  Chapter Five

  Treading uneasily through a small town, Vaughn kept his eyes open for grocery stores that were still doing busin
ess, growing more restless each time he stumbled upon one that was closed.

  Abandoned automobiles of all sorts filled the streets. Many of them attracted the attention of thieves who were trying the doors to see if any of them had been left unlocked.

  Nearly twenty-four hours had elapsed since Vaughn had met Mason, evincing him that he was probably no murderer. If Mason intended to kill and rob him, he likely would have done it by now.

  On average, they were stopping every two to three miles to rest and drink water. To conserve food, meals were consumed twice daily; a light breakfast three hours after rising, and a midsize supper in the early evening, with no snacking in between.

  Vaughn was accustomed to consuming twenty-five hundred calories a day to maintain his one hundred seventy pound frame. Now that his caloric intake had fallen to less than half that, it was already evident that his new diet was threatening to emaciate him.

  “I should have bought more when I had the chance,” Vaughn said aloud, venting his frustration. “I didn't think I'd be able to carry it all, though. Who knows when we'll find another open store?”

  “That place might be open,” Mason said, pointing at the grocery store on the far left side of the street.

  Vaughn saw a customer walking through the entrance door of the building, and agreed that Mason's prediction was accurate. “I think you're right. It is open.”

  * * * * *

  The selection was severely limited, and shoppers were not hesitant to ask the employees to check the backroom for items that weren't on the shelves. The usual response was, No, we don't have any right now. Sorry.

  With the sun dimly gleaming through the store's windows, Vaughn scavenged through the remains of the depleted stock.

  The gallons of water were sold out, but the store had a few twelve packs of twenty ounce water bottles for sale. Vaughn purchased them all.

  Salted snacks were still available, but he avoided them because of sodium's dangerous tendency to increase dehydration.

 

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