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

by Bobby Akart

  Secretary Gregg adjusted his position in his seat. He looked behind them to see if anyone else had suddenly appeared. They were still alone, as the majority of the passengers had congregated at the rear gallery to commiserate about the demise of America. He, for one, was not ready to throw in the towel.

  “Jackson, nobody blindsides me and gets away with it, including Kim Jong-un. But this president no longer has the media watching over her. She can kick me out of Raven Rock into a snowdrift and nobody would know about it.”

  “Monty, that’s not going to happen,” interjected Waller reassuringly.

  “It might. She could undermine my authority within the cabinet and the Defense Department. Most of them are lifelong politicians. Who’s gonna stand up to defend a Secretary of Defense who allowed the power grid to collapse across America while on his watch, hmm?”

  Waller sat up in his chair and tried to console his friend and superior. “Of course, that’s not totally accurate, so there might be a silver lining.”

  “What do you mean?” asked the secretary, who was having a rare moment of self-pity.

  With a puzzled look, Waller turned to look his friend in the eyes. “Monty, have you not heard? Texas is still under full power. Their grid stood strong.”

  Chapter 9

  November 25

  Black Friday

  Texas Governor’s Mansion

  1010 Colorado Street

  Austin, Texas

  The Mansion, as residents of Austin often referred to it, had been the official residence of Texas governors and their families since 1856. It was the oldest governor’s mansion west of the Mississippi River and the fourth oldest that had been continuously occupied. Tonight, Governor Marion Burnett was hosting her annual kick-off-the-holiday-season gala with the unveiling of the Christmas tree and décor within the massive Greek Revival-style structure.

  Most dinners at the governor’s mansion were intimate affairs, with the guest list ranging up to a dozen attendees. For this dinner, donors were invited, but so were the chairmen and CEOs representing banking, transportation, and, naturally, oil and gas.

  “Marion, I must say, this is your finest Christmas kickoff yet,” said Mickey DeWitt, president of Midland-based WestTex Oil and Gas. At just under four hundred thousand dollars, the DeWitt family was one of the largest donors to Governor Burnett’s coffers over the years. Make no mistake, this was the way politics worked. The annual event was about stroking the egos of donors as well as putting movers and shakers together to make deals. Needless to say, everyone was looking to get the governor’s ear.

  “Why, thank you, Mickey,” said Governor Burnett with a smile as she accepted a peck on the cheek from DeWitt. Marion reached out and provided a gentle squeeze of Mrs. DeWitt’s hand. “You know, old friends, I could not have done this without both of you. You’ve been loyal supporters and dear friends throughout my career.”

  “Well, now, Marion,” began Mrs. Dewitt, “not to mention we’re practically neighbors. The only large ranch between our place and yours belongs to Major Armstrong, and he’s practically family to us all.”

  “He sure is,” said Mr. DeWitt as he joined his wife’s side. A waiter with a tray of champagne glasses strolled past the group, and both DeWitts eagerly grabbed a glass. Governor Burnett raised her hand and declined. This is a working dinner.

  “Y’all know Major,” she began. “He’s not much for rubbin’ elbows. He and Lucy always have a standing invitation to join us, but they’re not up for puttin’ on the Ritz, as they say.”

  “That’s quite all right. We love them dearly,” said Mrs. DeWitt with a chuckle. Then she raised her glass. “Besides, there’s more bubbly for us, right?”

  “Marion, while we have a moment,” started the oil man, “I’d like to talk with you about my permit application to drill in the Guadalupe Mountains National Park. The Interior Secretary said the application is moving forward, but I still need the state to sign off on the water-reclamation permit.”

  Governor Burnett smiled and held her hand up to stop him from talking. “Say no more, old friend. We signed off on it Wednesday afternoon before everyone left for the Thanksgiving weekend. I wanted to tell you the good news in person.”

  “We’re good to go?” asked Mr. DeWitt.

  “You betcha. Drill, baby, drill!” The governor found her campaign voice momentarily as she channeled close friend and ally Sarah Palin.

  As the threesome finished up their small talk, a commotion began toward the rear of the room. Two members of the governor’s security detail were sticking their heads above the nearly two hundred guests in search of the governor.

  When they made contact, they quickly approached her, gently shoving their way through the crowd. They were followed by her trusted chief of security, Ryan Long, a former Texas Ranger and friend of Major’s.

  “Excuse us. Madam Governor, may we have a word?” said Long.

  “Um, sure, Ryan. Excuse me, folks.”

  Long pulled the governor away from her curious guests and spoke directly into her ear. “There’s been some sort of attack on the country. Our information is incomplete, but about ten minutes ago, the Eastern and Western Interconnection power grids collapsed. Most of Canada is impacted by this, as well as parts of Mexico.”

  Governor Burnett instinctively looked at the well-lit ballroom. “Nukes?”

  “We’re unsure, Governor. From our best information, it doesn’t appear to be H-bombs. Most likely an electromagnetic detonation.”

  “Washington, too?” she asked.

  “As far as we can tell, yes. All of our information is coming from news broadcasts from Europe. This literally happened in the last ten to fifteen minutes.”

  Governor Burnett looked around the room and saw some of her guests appeared worried as they looked at their cell phones. “I should make an announcement, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” replied Long. “So you know, we’ve alerted the Texas Fusion Center. They are coordinating actions between Texas Homeland Security, the Infrastructure Protection Unit, and other field operations.”

  “Last question. Is there any indication that the attack is ongoing?”

  “No, ma’am. However, out of an abundance of precaution, we’ll need to get you into the shelter. We can always travel through the tunnels to the Fusion Center.”

  The governor nodded and made her way to the stage, where a string quartet and a harpist had been playing Christmas music. She walked up the steps to the side of the stage and approached the microphone.

  “Good evening, everyone,” she began before being interrupted by thunderous applause. Then the chants made famous on the campaign trail began.

  “Texas strong! Texas free!”

  “Texas strong! Texas free!”

  Governor Burnett raised her hands and lowered them to quieten the crowd. “Thank you, everyone. I must notify you of some very disturbing news.”

  The crowd’s chant quickly died down and was replaced by nervous chatter amongst the guests.

  “The information we have is sketchy, but it’s being reported by foreign news sources that our nation, and much of Canada, is experiencing a massive blackout.”

  The crowd erupted in murmur and conversation. It became so loud that the governor tapped the microphone, releasing a series of loud thumps through the speakers.

  “Please, folks, listen up. We don’t know what has caused this or if there is something more nefarious afoot. However, as you can see, the power is still on in Texas. That means we can all get to our homes and safe places until more information can be gathered. I’m sorry, but everyone needs to leave quickly, but safely. As word of this spreads, the streets may become chaotic.”

  Someone in the crowd shouted a question. “What are you gonna do?”

  She responded with authority. “Texas has prepared for this possibility for decades. We have Texas Homeland Security already taking measures to dispatch all available law enforcement, first responders, and guardsm
en to control those opportunists who try to take advantage of this situation.”

  “Will we be attacked, too?” asked a distraught woman from the rear of the room.

  “We don’t have any indication of that,” she responded. Then she exhibited her command of the situation. “My friends, we sleep well at night because we’ve taken the steps to be ready for this eventuality. Now, do your part, get home safely, and let our Homeland Security team do its job. Also, turn on those emergency radios I gave you my first Christmas in office!”

  Chapter 10

  November 25

  Black Friday

  Deerfoot Inn & Casino

  Calgary, Alberta, Canada

  It took Cooper, Riley, and Palmer less than an hour to traverse the city streets of Calgary and make their way to the Deerfoot Inn & Casino on the south side of town. All three of them were loaded down with gear, as they left very little behind in the truck. As they ambled along, dodging pedestrians and stalled vehicles, they discussed the realities of travelling to the Armstrong ranch on horseback. They’d have to be selective on what they carried with them. The additional weight would be hard on the horses.

  The first challenge they faced upon arrival at the hotel was securing their horses. They all agreed their rides were more valuable than all the disabled vehicles in Calgary. Not only would they have to take extraordinary care of their horses’ health, but they’d need to constantly stand guard to prevent someone from stealing them.

  By acting decisively, they were the first three to leave the Calgary Stampede and therefore were the first cowboys to arrive on horseback. On a vacant lot next to the hotel, which was used for overflow parking, a wood and aluminum lean-to shed stood alone in the darkness.

  They got their horses settled in and walked into a nearby stand of trees in search of tall grasses to pull for the horses to feed on. It wasn’t the best setup, but it would do for the night. Like people, a horse’s well-being would deteriorate rapidly from dehydration in just three days. Food was important for good digestion due to the rapid buildup of acids in a horse’s stomach, as well as for their mental health.

  They decided to take shifts staying with the horses and, while remaining vigilant, make every effort to gather grasses for feed. Riley took the first shift, and Cooper handed him a rifle.

  “A lot of good this thing will do me,” said Riley. “It’s empty, remember?”

  “I know, no ammo,” replied Cooper. “But the bad guys won’t know that. You point it at ’em, they’ll tuck tail and run.”

  “What if I need backup?” asked Riley. He turned toward the hotel, which was nearly a thousand yards away, and pointed. “I can see our room from here. Are y’all gonna watch out the window in case of trouble?”

  “No, we’ll use these,” replied Palmer. “Daddy kept a few things under the backseat. You know, to be used with our get-home bags.”

  Palmer opened her backpack and pulled out a Christmas cookie tin that was sealed with aluminum duct tape.

  “Great, Momma baked cookies in case we got hungry,” said Riley sarcastically.

  Cooper opened his pocketknife and handed it to Palmer. She ran the blade around the opening and then popped the lid off. A piece of one-inch foam fell out and blew across the vacant lot with the increasing wind. She closed the knife and returned it to her brother.

  She handed an aluminum foil rectangle to each of them. Riley eagerly unwrapped his, most likely hoping Momma’s cookies were inside. Instead they revealed three matching handheld Uniden MHS126 radios. Palmer pressed the power button and the display illuminated.

  “Great, they work,” exclaimed Palmer as Cooper and Riley followed suit. “Mine has almost a full battery charge.”

  “Unbelievable! Why isn’t it fried like the rest of this stuff?” said Riley as he pointed to the graveyard of automobiles in the Deerfoot Inn parking lot.

  “Riley, you really should pay attention to our parents sometimes,” admonished Palmer. “This cookie tin acted like a Faraday cage.”

  “Who?” he asked.

  “Faraday was this scientist guy who figured out a way to protect electronics from massive blasts of energy, like an EMP. By taking these radios, wrapping them in heavy-duty aluminum foil, and securing them in this metal container lined with foam, the EMP went around the cookie tin instead of inside it.”

  “Check it out,” said Cooper. “It’s got a GPS compass, it’s submersible in water, and has dozens of channels to choose from.”

  Riley studied the display and held the radio in the air. “Will it reach Texas?”

  “No, the range isn’t that good, but we can use it to communicate for situations like this one,” said Palmer. She reached into the cookie tin and pulled out another aluminum-foil-wrapped device. She opened it and showed her brothers the contents.

  Cooper asked, “Is that a solar charger?”

  “Sure is,” she replied. “Daddy tried to think of everything. This will soak up the sun and recharge any device we have with a USB cable. The radios last around ten to twelve hours, but we can recharge them as we ride using this solar charger.”

  She handed the device to Cooper and he pressed a button. Five green lights illuminated near the top of the cell-phone-sized device. “Amazin’,” he mumbled.

  Shouts from near the front of the hotel grabbed their attention, and Cooper swung around. “Something’s goin’ on. Palmer, grab what you can, and let’s see if we can get into our rooms. Riley, monitor channel eleven but don’t use it unless it’s an emergency. We need to conserve our battery life. I don’t think it’ll be very sunny tomorrow to help us recharge.”

  “Ten-four,” said Riley with a laugh, using CB jargon.

  Cooper and Palmer slung their rifles over their shoulders, picked up what they could, and headed for the hotel’s side entrance. The door was propped open, and a couple of guests were standing outside with drinks in their hands.

  One of the drunks addressed Cooper and Palmer. “Well, hey there, wayward travelers. Did your horse and wagon break down?”

  “Come on, Palmer,” said Cooper as he ignored the men and pushed his way past.

  “That’s pretty rude, buck-a-roooo,” said the other man to Cooper. He was far more inebriated than his friend, so he didn’t hesitate to address Palmer. “Aren’t you gonna introduce us to your lady friend. Whadya call yourselves? Buggle bunnies or some such?”

  The men, focused on Palmer, never saw what hit them. Cooper had dropped his gear on the carpeted floor of the hallway and quickly shoved both men off balance until they fell backwards out the door. Their drinks flew out of their hands, dousing one another, which generated more complaints than the act of landing on their backsides.

  Cooper pulled the door shut and heard the lock snap shut. “Let ’em chew on that awhile.”

  Palmer laughed hysterically. “I could’ve taken those two, you know.”

  Cooper grinned as he gathered his gear. “I know, but I had a little frustration to let out. Let’s stop by the front desk and see if our keycards will work.”

  A crowd was gathered in the lobby around the bar, where drinks were being served for cash only. Cooper chuckled to himself as he thought about how worthless money was at this point. Tomorrow, after the liquor wore off, these people were going to wake up to some harsh realities.

  Before they approached the counter, which was illuminated with a dozen candles, he removed his coat and dropped his duffels on the floor. He covered his rifle with his coat. “Watch my stuff and keep the rifles undercover. I don’t want people to freak out.”

  “Got it,” replied Palmer as she removed her gun and jacket.

  After a few minutes, Cooper returned with a bellman, who had a skeleton key to open the doors in the event of a power outage. He escorted them to their room and unlocked the door.

  “Don’t let this close while you’re gone,” he said as he turned the bolt lock to prevent the door from closing. “We won’t always have time to do this in the future.”

&n
bsp; Cooper scowled at the man in the dark and pulled a twenty-dollar bill out of his pocket. “Will this twenty get you back up here if necessary?”

  “Oh, yes, sir, it sure will,” said the bellman as he stuffed the Canadian bill into his pocket. “Thank you!”

  Cooper locked the door behind them and felt his way along the wall until he could open the curtains, allowing ambient light to provide some relief from the darkness.

  Suddenly, the room was lit up as Palmer found her SureFire tactical flashlight. “This will help us get organized. Can you see Riley from here?”

  “Yeah, I can barely make out the lean-to. Once we get settled, I’ll go back down there and keep him company for a while. Maybe we can start a fire to help stay warm. It’ll draw attention, but that’s a might better than freezing to death in this cold.”

  “Tomorrow and especially tomorrow night will be brutal,” said Palmer.

  “I agree. We may go to double duty down there to stay alert. As the sun rises and people figure out what’s happened, it will be more dangerous for anyone guarding the horses.”

  Palmer patted her brother on the back and slung her bug-out bag on one of the beds. “Let’s see what Daddy has packed for us. Open yours up, too. Maybe we can consolidate some things.”

  “Palmer, we’re gonna have to ride seventeen hundred miles to get home. Have you thought about what that means? It’ll be hard on us and the horses. Not to mention the fact that people will be trying to take what we’ve got.”

  “I get it. We’ve got a lot to work with here, but one of our first priorities needs to be ammo for our rifles. We’ll have to find a way to pick some up while on the road home.”

  “Okay,” said Cooper. “Let’s get organized, and you catch some sleep. You’ll have the morning shift at first light.”

  PART TWO

  Saturday, November 26