Beyond Borders: Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction (The Lone Star Series Book 2)

by Bobby Akart

  “Major,” started Lucy as she clutched her husband’s arm, “he said Canada, too. The kids are gonna be—”

  Major put his arm around Lucy and pulled her head against his shoulder. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. At least we have a source of information.”

  Major stopped talking as Barling’s face suddenly grew serious. He was holding his hand to his earpiece and shaking his head from side to side. He grimaced and looked into the camera.

  “We have now received further word that the Ministry of Defence has placed the Royal Navy, Air Force and the British Army on their highest levels of alert. Although a formal statement will be forthcoming from Air Chief Marshal Sir Stuart Lovegrove, our sources have told us that it is likely the United States has come under attack, and this may be the beginnings of a broader military conflict. In just a few minutes, we will be taking you to—”

  Major’s mind began to race as he tuned out the rest of Barling’s report.

  United States has come under attack. Beginnings.

  He turned to Lucy. “Listen to me, honey. Now is not the time to panic, but we’ve got to move quickly. This has to be a nuclear EMP attack; otherwise Texas would be in the dark too. It could be the start of all-out nuclear war, I don’t know. We have to get everybody to safety.”

  “The phones don’t work.”

  “I know. Preacher and I have worked out a system for this. It’s kinda like Paul Revere’s ride to warn the patriots.”

  “Okay, what do you want me to do?” she asked as she wiped the tears off her cheeks.

  “Get the shelter opened up and the power running. As the families show up, get the women and children settled. Keep them calm. Send the ranch hands here to load up food out of the pantry.”

  Lucy nodded her head and fought back the tears. “The kids. They’re all alone.”

  Major gently put his fingers to Lucy’s lips. “And they’re levelheaded, practical, and most importantly, they’re Armstrongs. They’ll be fine.”

  Chapter 6

  November 25

  Black Friday

  The Armstrong Ranch

  Borden County, Texas

  Major bolted out the front door and skipped the steps as he hit the mulched walkway leading to the barn. His adrenaline was pumping, raising his body temperature as he entered the near-freezing temperatures outside. In his haste, he never considered grabbing his jacket and gloves hanging on the wall by the front door.

  He was in the process of saddling his horse, cursing his suddenly cold, stiff fingers, when he heard the sound of horses racing toward the barn. He reached for a flashlight mounted on the outside of the stall and went by the water troughs to investigate.

  “Who’s that?” he shouted into the darkness as the light from his flashlight scanned the field to find the riders.

  Preacher shouted his response as his horse closed on the barn. “Major! It’s me and Antonio. Something’s happened!”

  “Yeah, huge power outage.” His voice lowered somewhat as the riders came toward the barn at a full gallop.

  “Whoa,” the riders said in unison, encouraging their horses to a stop. Dust and a few rocks were kicked up onto Major’s jeans as they arrived.

  “Antonio, do you know something?” asked Major.

  “Si, señor,” began Antonio, who had arrived at Armstrong Ranch alone when he was sixteen. He had snuck across the border with his mother and sister through Terrell County, with the assistance of human traffickers. Once they’d arrived in America, the traffickers demanded additional payment or the family would not be allowed to go free. When his family gave them the seventy-three dollars in their possession, the traffickers raped and murdered his mother and sister. Antonio received a beating but managed to escape. Preacher had found him on the banks of the river, drinking the muddy water. He’d lived and worked on the ranch since.

  Antonio continued. “I was listening to radio from Coahuila—XHRF.” XHRF, one of the original border blaster radio stations on the Mexican side of the border outside Laredo, was known for its traditional Mexican music and lack of political commentary.

  “No power in Tamaulipas, Nuevo León, and Chihuahua. Transformadors explode. Power poles on fire. Oscuridad, all dark, everywhere.”

  Preacher held the young man’s horse as Antonio dismounted. “San Diego and Tucson, too?”

  “Si, Preacher. No power in America.”

  Preacher handed the reins to the young man and pointed toward the fence rail next to the barn. Antonio led the horses away and tied them off where they could drink water for a moment.

  “Major, did they hit us?”

  “I think so, Preach. We were trying to watch Coop’s ride and the screen went blank. We found the British station. They think we were attacked.”

  “EMP?” asked Preacher.

  “Most likely,” said Major. “You guys need to saddle up again and bring everyone to the shelter. Miss Lucy’s getting it ready out back now. I’ll take the houses by the river and near the barnyard. Send Antonio out to the back forty. You’ve got the south side of the ranch.”

  “We’re on it,” said Preacher as he turned toward Antonio and the horses.

  Major added more instructions. “Tell everyone don’t pack much. Kids’ favorite toys. Grab only the clothing they can carry. If they have vehicles, and they’re still running, tell them to park them in front of the entry gates to the ranch. I want everyone back here within the hour!”

  “Hah!” shouted Preacher as he dug his heels into his horse. “We’re on it, boss!”

  Major stood in silence for a moment and gazed at the cold, clear sky. A meteor shower was providing a show as a comet, designated SW-3, made its appearance following its fracturing in 1995. He watched in awe as the comet’s debris painted a broad stripe of glowing pebbles and dust in the sky.

  Living on a ranch in a desolate part of Texas, the night skies stood out in a brilliant illumination of stars, planets, and space debris. It was a peaceful experience.

  With a chuckle, Major mused at the irony. Now the rest of the country, as it experienced total darkness, devoid of the constant barrage of artificial lighting from vehicles and buildings, would be able to view the beauty of SW-3 as it crossed the horizon. For them, however, there would be no peace—for years to come.

  Chapter 7

  November 25

  Black Friday

  Presidential Emergency Operations Center

  The White House

  Washington, DC

  The Bush administration, under the guidance of Vice President Dick Cheney and Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, made substantial changes to the nation’s continuity-of-government plan. During their tenure in office, they ran catastrophe drills in which they were taken to Andrews Air Force Base by their Secret Service details.

  Once there, they joined a team of forty to sixty security personnel and high-ranking government officials, along with other cabinet members. Each was transported to remote locations across the country to underground bunkers and secured military facilities.

  The plan, designed to keep the U.S. government fully operational in a time of attack, dated back to the early Cold War-era of the fifties when duck-and-cover scenarios were considered sufficient. Now, state-of-the-art technology was utilized to deliver warnings, updates, and directives wirelessly to key personnel.

  However, in the case of an electromagnetic pulse attack, communication lapses for a period of time were to be expected until the president, vice president, the Speaker of the House, and the cabinet were protected within the secured bunkers.

  While federal budget constraints prevented each key player in the continuity-of-government plan from having their own fallout shelter, the facility within the White House for the president was the next best thing to Cheyenne Mountain and Raven Rock.

  The Presidential Emergency Operations Center, or PEOC, was a recently expanded and updated underground facility beneath the East Wing of the White House. Initially constructed under President Fra
nklin Roosevelt during World War II, the PEOC had undergone substantial changes to make it impenetrable to any form of ICBM nuclear attack, enemy invasion, or terrorist operation.

  President Harman and her husband moved quickly through the tile-covered hallways, instinctively ducking under the pipes suspended from the low ceiling, which contained hardened wiring for mechanical equipment and communications networks.

  Several armed military guards greeted them at the thick, solid steel door, which resembled a bank vault’s door. Past a reception area, the president entered a large conference room adjacent to the PEOC’s nerve center.

  The conference room was small, but it contained comfortable sofas, a kitchenette with drinks and snacks, and a few magazines. It resembled an upscale physician’s waiting room.

  “Madam President, the First Husband will be required to wait here,” stated a lieutenant commander in the Navy, who was in command of the facility at the moment.

  She nodded and embraced her husband. They exchanged a brief kiss, and he smiled as he whispered to her, “You’ve got this, Alani.”

  Warmed by his brief words of encouragement, President Harman left him alone and followed her escort to the PEOC’s situation room, which was different from the one located under the West Wing in one respect, it was twice the size.

  In 2010, tall fences were installed near the West Wing and a massive construction project was undertaken. Officially, the renovations to the White House complex were described as an update to the facilities’ infrastructure system. Unofficially, the contractors were using tunnels to greatly expand the East Wing PEOC facility, gaining access from behind the West Wing.

  A sprawling, multiroom structure was built, which required many truckloads of heavy-duty concrete and steel beams. Additional tunnels were installed to connect the West Wing to the PEOC to allow faster evacuation of the president to the nuclear-proof facility. It was also expanded to provide for better long-term sleeping quarters for the First Family and the president’s staff and essential security detail.

  President Harman entered the PEOC situation room and was greeted by her chief of staff, Charles Acton, as well as Deputy Secretary of Defense Harold Cummings.

  “Charles, talk to me,” ordered the president.

  “Madam President, thirteen minutes ago, two nuclear warheads were detonated approximately two hundred fifty miles above the Earth’s surface in the area of Oregon and Virginia.”

  The president walked through the PEOC’s nerve center and studied the screens mounted in a semicircular shape around the room. Every computer station was manned by uniformed military personnel with telephone headsets. They were busy speaking with American government facilities around the globe and constantly updated the monitors with data.

  She had a thousand questions, but these were the first that came out. “Why didn’t our missile defense systems shoot them down? I mean, were there more than two? How could this happen?”

  “Madam President,” started Deputy Secretary Cummings, a former Air Force general, “we’ve monitored North Korea as well as the usual nuclear threats on our highest state of alert for many months. These—”

  “How could we miss ICBMs launched from North Korea?” She shouted the question, drawing the attention of some of the military personnel.

  “They did not come from the Korean peninsula, Madam President,” he nervously responded. “It is our belief they were dropped on us from above, via satellite.”

  “What? Why didn’t we take them out?” The president was incredulous.

  “Madam President,” responded Deputy Secretary Cummings, “the response time is practically nil. By the time our global reconnaissance picks up the incoming nuke, it’s too late to shoot it down. The satellites are in low Earth orbit to begin with, and the flight time to the point of detonation takes under three minutes.”

  President Harman began walking back and forth along the upper level of the theater-style situation room. She rubbed her temples as a headache began to set in, partly from stress and the histamine effects of the red wine she had drunk earlier.

  “How widespread is the power outage?” she asked.

  “Madam President,” Acton began to respond, “our information is still coming in, but based upon initial reports, both the Eastern and Western Interconnection grids have suffered a catastrophic, cascading failure. If my memory serves me, that would impact much of Canada and parts of Northern Mexico.”

  President Harman ran her fingers through her dark hair and continued to massage her temples. This is a nightmare.

  “Charles, please find me a bottled water and Excedrin,” ordered the president before she turned her attention back to Deputy Secretary Cummings. “Where is Monty?”

  “Per continuity-of-government protocols, Secretary Gregg, the Secretary of Homeland Security, and other cabinet members are en route to Raven Rock, ma’am,” he replied. “The vice president is being taken to Cheyenne Mountain.”

  Acton returned with an Evian and three Excedrin. President Harman didn’t hesitate to take the painkillers and drink three long gulps of water. The prospect of the medication taking hold and a deep breath combined to calm her nerves somewhat. It was time to become Commander-in-Chief.

  “Okay, gentlemen. What else do we know? Any indication of who initiated this?”

  The deputy secretary responded, “Nothing confirmed at this time although our intelligence and knowledge of the North Korean advancements in satellite technology would point to them. The CIA has provided us nothing to believe either the Russians or Chinese are involved in this.”

  “Has there been any other activity, militarily or diplomatically, that provides us an indication of their intentions?” asked the president.

  “Militarily, no,” replied Acton. “Diplomatically, our information is still incomplete. State is sending their people to Raven Rock now. It will take a little time to gather our entire emergency team.”

  “Where is Homeland Security?”

  “The director is also being transported to Raven Rock,” replied Acton.

  “Am I to remain here?” she asked.

  “At some point, you will be moved there via Air Force One.”

  “When?” asked the president.

  “As soon as we’re comfortable that the missiles have stopped falling,” replied Acton dryly.

  Chapter 8

  November 25

  Military Air Transport

  Near Frederick, Maryland

  Secretary Gregg and his wife joined other members of the cabinet on a Boeing C-40 Clipper, which departed from Andrews Air Force Base to a military-protected landing strip at the Defense Threat Reduction Agency in Pennsylvania at the base of Raven Rock Mountain. Billy Yancey and his wife were not authorized to travel on the transport because he was not considered essential personnel, but Secretary Gregg arranged a ride for them to Lackland Air Force Base near San Antonio, where the Senate president pro tempore was awaiting pickup. After the Speaker of the House, the president pro tempore was next in the line of succession pursuant to the continuity-of-government plan. The Yanceys and Greggs said their goodbyes and exchanged promises to stay safe.

  Secretary Gregg had never flown on the C-40, and after the flight was airborne for the short flight into the mountains of Pennsylvania, he took a brief tour with his top aide, Assistant Secretary of Defense Jackson Waller.

  “How many of these aircraft did they harden for this purpose, Jackson?”

  “A dozen, I believe. In addition to Andrews, they’re at Scott Air Force Base in Illinois, Hickam in Hawaii, NAS Jacksonville, and even Ramstein in Germany.”

  “We could’ve driven and gotten to Raven Rock quicker,” quipped Secretary Gregg. “Except I’m sure the highways are crammed full of stranded motorists. Lot of people out shopping and traveling this weekend.”

  They moved through the cabin and found a couple of seats over the wings that were out of earshot from the other passengers, especially the director of Homeland Security, who was no
w able to make contact with the president. They were able to hear bits and pieces of his conversation, as the director was slightly hard of hearing, which caused him to speak loudly.

  “You notice she’s speaking to him first?” said Secretary Gregg in a questioning tone. “Do you think she blames me for this? After all, it’s my job to defend.”

  “Monty, there is no defense to what most likely happened,” replied Waller. “Reagan began warning the Congress back in the eighties of this possibility, and he was ridiculed by the media as promoting Star Wars as a military doctrine.”

  “I’ve been aware of the possibilities, though. Thanks to Dr. Peter Pry and Admiral James Woolsey, the EMP Commission kept the conversation active in the halls of Congress. As is typical, Congress paid lip service to the issue but didn’t take adequate steps to protect us from the threat.”

  Waller raised his hand slightly so they would stop talking. They listened to the Homeland Security director as he completed his phone call with the president.

  “Monty, this isn’t on you. If anything, you’ve been begging the president to take the fight to Kim on his soil before it came to a moment like this. Whether the nuke was launched from Kim’s backyard, dropped from a satellite, or tethered to a damn balloon, all of this could’ve been avoided if she’d followed your advice.”

  Secretary Gregg pointed his finger toward the front of the aircraft as the director of Homeland Security headed in their direction. As he walked past, he avoided eye contact. This didn’t go unnoticed by either of the men.

  “Well, there you have it, Jackson,” started Secretary Gregg. “She’s back in the PEOC getting an earful from her man Cummings. This whole thing is gonna be hung around my neck like a ten-ton albatross. I’m surprised I was even allowed on the plane.”

  “There’s no way she’d replace you during a time of crisis, Monty. Don’t sweat it. Besides, you’re the best she’s got when it comes to military strategy and she knows it.”