by Nathan Jones
“You're leaving just a few weeks into fall semester?” Chad asked, voice thick with disbelief. He moved around so they were all standing in a sort of triangle off to one side of the hallway. “You'll get incompletes in all your classes. And because what, gas prices will go up a bit more and prices in stores might go up too?”
Trev just shook his head. Chad was one of those people who liked to argue about everything but never actually changed his opinion, so explaining would probably just be a waste of time. An annoying waste of time.
Even if he'd wanted to, what would he say? The economy had been hovering on the brink for a year now. A lot of people had been betting on the nuclear war in the Middle East being what toppled everything and sent them back into pre-industrial society, but a miraculous recovery had been pulled off by people on all sides. They'd all limped along for months now, pretending it was business as usual and willfully blind to the fact that things couldn't continue. And maybe some believed that after the Middle East Crisis the American way of life was indestructible and nothing would bring it down.
Trev knew better. “Listen,” he said, directing his words mostly to Matt. “You know this area has become one big sprawling line of cities, a dense population cluster filling most of Utah and Salt Lake valleys. That's millions of people packed into a small space, and how much food do you think is actually kept on hand to feed all those people? Most businesses trim their operations so they don't have any surplus stock cutting into profits, meaning delivery trucks usually come every week or even every few days to restock grocery stores, restaurants, bakeries, and everything else. Now that all those trucks don't have fuel we'll be lucky if the cities have one or two weeks' worth of food. And that's not counting the inevitable rush as people try to buy up as many supplies as they can before everything's gone.”
Chad opened his mouth to argue and Trev hurriedly kept going. “Now think about all the newsworthy riots of the last ten years, and the comparatively minor events that set them off. Compare that to millions of people knowing there's no more food being brought in and what they've got is quickly running out. Even before the cities start running out of food rioting and looting will run rampant.”
“But you can't know any of that for sure, right?” Chad argued. “Maybe knowing how serious the situation is will bring people together.”
It was hard not to laugh at that, although nothing about the situation was funny. “In small, tightly knit communities maybe. In cities? People riot over soccer losses.” He turned back to Matt. “Anyway I'm just saying you should keep your ear to the ground and be ready to leave in a moment if things start looking bad. I think you'll be surprised at how quickly that happens.” He offered his hand for his friends to shake, then turned and hurried back the way he'd come.
Outlining the doomsday scenario had got him feeling antsy, and even though he doubted rioting would start immediately he still wanted to finish his business in Orem and be gone as quickly as possible.
But before he'd gone a dozen steps the loudspeakers throughout the building crackled. “Attention students. Be prepared for a message from the President of the United States, all channels. Teachers, please prepare for the broadcast.”
Trev turned and exchanged curious looks with Matt and Chad, then moved to rejoin them as they started for their classroom, which happened to be the nearest one. Whatever his urgency it couldn't hurt to get information from a more official source and find out a bit about what they could expect.
As long as it didn't turn out to be the Presidential equivalent of reassuring hand-patting.
It looked as if some students had used the excuse of the attack to ditch class, so there were plenty of seats available as they waited and stared at the Seal of the United States being broadcast on the projector screen at the front of the class.
Trev used the time to ask his friends a few subtle questions about how they and their families had prepared for a disaster like this. It was a bit of an intrusion of privacy, but at the same time Trev had been pretty frank with Matt about his own preparations and he was genuinely concerned about how the Larsons would be able to handle this disaster.
Matt didn't seem to mind the questions, although the only good news he really had to offer was that his mom kept a well stocked pantry that should last them a month or so, and Matt himself shopped in bulk to save money on food and had enough for another few weeks that he could share with his roommates.
During their discussion Chad was surprisingly forthcoming, announcing that even though his folks were the weekly grocery shopping type they had enough savings to last them a long time if need be. Trev tried to be circumspect as he advised his friend to call his parents and suggest that they go to the store today and purchase quite a bit more food than they usually did. As much as possible, even. He extended that advice to Matt as well and admitted that while talking to his parents last night they'd already promised to go to the store and empty their bank account on nonperishables.
Their conversation was interrupted by “Hail to the Chief” blaring from the speakers, after which the screen transitioned from the Seal to a view of the President sitting behind his desk in the Oval Office. Although the older man's face was grave, he didn't have the harried and strung out look of someone who'd spent a sleepless night being briefed on how serious his nation's situation was. Good acting and makeup?
“My fellow Americans,” he began in a solemn tone. “I know we are all reeling from last night's tragedy along the Gulf of Mexico. It was a terrible, senseless attack in which hundreds of innocent people lost their lives, and I assure you we are doing everything in our power to identify the culprits so they can be brought to justice.”
Trev couldn't help but wonder if, despicable as the attacks had been, hunting the perpetrators down was the best use of the nation's resources at the moment. Luckily the President's next words addressed that.
“However, terrible as this attack was locally for all the states along the Gulf, I must now address the ramifications for the nation at large.” He reached down and picked up the single sheet of paper resting on the huge desk, glancing down at it. “As of our current best estimates, 73% of the nation's refining capabilities and 42% of the nation's fuel reserves were destroyed in the attack. But severe as the loss of our reserves were I must stress the dire situation of our loss of the refineries themselves.”
He paused to stare directly at the camera. “I won't beat around the bush, citizens. Following the Middle East Crisis last year this administration elected to dip heavily into the nation's fuel reserves in order to keep the economy running smoothly until we could set up our own fracking and drilling operations and make a deal with Canada for the plentiful shale oil they've begun producing. We'd been making good progress on that front, but a year of consuming more than we produce has dropped our reserves down to critical levels.
“To put it bluntly, the nation has run out of gas. We were entirely dependent on what was produced from our refineries just to keep up day to day operations.” He paused for a moment to let that sink in. “Now let me stress that we are maximizing production in our remaining refineries, and massive construction projects have already begun to get more refineries up and running as quickly as possible. We estimate that in three months' time we'll be back up to 45% production.”
He said that like it was good news. Trev had his doubts whether that timeline was accurate, but whether it was or not in three months winter would have set in and half the population could be dead from cold and hunger. And that was just assuming that further attacks or even riots didn't impede the efforts. By the time fuel production got up to speed the infrastructure that relied on it might not be around anymore.
Or for that matter the government might not be around anymore as the nation descended into chaos.
The President continued firmly. “We've got a lean winter ahead of us, my fellow Americans, but we will pull through. To aid with that I'm issuing an official crisis alert with the following mandates: First, all lo
cal and state governments and Federal agencies are authorized to purchase or requisition all remaining fuel from any private sources that may hold it, to be used for emergency and national defense purposes. I want to see it in public hands where it can do the most good.
“Furthermore, it's time for us all to become more responsible about energy consumption. The nation's consumption barely decreased following the Middle East Crisis in spite of our reduced fuel production, forcing us to deplete our reserves. That option is no longer available to us so we have no choice but to tighten our belts. With the suggestion of my advisors and feedback from state governors we've decided to hold off on imposing martial law or calling this a state of emergency, but I am still calling for all citizens to reduce consumption to the bare minimum needed for survival.
“That includes only using water for drinking or washing, only using electricity for lighting at night, reducing heating and air conditioning to the bare minimum and learning to live with more extreme temperatures, and being more prudent when it comes to waste and unnecessary usage of any goods or services. Beyond that, those with necessities to spare are strongly encouraged to donate to their local communities.”
The President stood, planting his fists on his desk and fixing the camera with a piercing stare. “I do not say this lightly, citizens of this great nation. We will be facing harder times than we as a nation have ever faced before, but if we pull together we will pull through until the situation can be stabilized. Until then we must all swim together to stay afloat.”
Trev shook his head at that. He was all for encouraging words, but the President's sentiment sounded like a bad one. If half the people couldn't swim then all they'd manage is to drag those who could swim down with them. Thanks to Lewis and his forward thinking Trev had done quite a bit of preparing, and he didn't like the idea of being rewarded for that by giving away all the food he'd prepared, enough to last him for over two years if necessary, in order to feed hundreds of people for a few days.
He'd made sure he was ready for something like this. It wasn't selfish to live when the alternative would barely help the unprepared and would just guarantee he'd starve to death too.
The President had a few more words to say, mostly specific comments to local and state leaders about procedure moving forward, and then he closed with “May God protect and provide for us in these dark times,” and sat back down. A moment later the screen winked back to the Seal of the United States.
There was a long silence as the people in the classroom digested the reality of a situation that was worse than they'd thought, and then the professor abruptly stood. “Class dismissed. See you tomorrow.”
Not likely, Trev thought. He'd wasted enough time saying goodbye to just one person and it was time to go.
Matt followed him as he headed for the door. “Well I'm sure that set your mind at ease. It sure made me feel a lot better about the situation.”
“Why?” Trev asked with a shake of his head. “The only thing the President could've said that would've really gotten us out of this mess is that he'd somehow convinced the Gold Bloc to give us aid. Since he didn't mention a word of that everything else is just false optimism and reassuring words to a terminal patient. You do realize that when someone says “tighten our belts” they could mean anything from missing a meal or two to spending a winter eating rats and boiling leather boots and jackets to keep from starving to death, right? From the way he described the situation it's sounding more like the latter.”
His friend nodded doubtfully. “If you say so. I'm going to wait a few weeks before I pass judgment, give the nation a chance to pull itself back onto its feet.”
“Why wait? You could come down to Aspen Hill with me right now and get a head start on preparing for what's to come.”
“How, by sitting around my house fretting about things I can't change while I burn my bridges at the university by skipping out partway through a semester?” Matt laughed. “I'll stay, although I suppose if things don't get back to normal I'll see you down in Aspen Hill in a month or so.”
“I have a feeling I'll be seeing you sooner than that,” Trev replied. He shook Matt's hand one last time before making his way back to his dorm as quickly as he could.
Chapter Two
With A Whimper
Before Trev headed for his car he ducked into his dorm room just long enough put on the underarm holster for his 1911 and slip on a light jacket to cover it. Bringing the reliable .45 might have been bordering on paranoia just for going shopping, but he had no idea how quickly chaos might descend and preferred paranoid to dead. Besides, with his concealed carry permit he was perfectly within his rights to wear the pistol, even though it would be the first time he'd taken it anywhere outside his room since coming to college, aside from to the car on breaks when he went down to Aspen Hill to practice with it at the range.
With its somewhat unfamiliar weight constantly drawing his attention, not to mention making him feel awkward and conspicuous, he made his way to his car and pulled out of the lot.
As he drove he didn't see any signs that the world had noticed the abrupt change in the status quo, even after the speech they'd just heard. No panicked people in the streets, no rioters or looters. No gunshots or sirens in the distance, no screams of horror and cries for help. Just like it had over the last year, America would sink into its final oblivion blissfully unaware.
Sure, there were quite a few more vehicles than usual on the road, people out to do whatever last minute preparations they thought would help for the lean times ahead. He also saw more people than usual out on their lawns or front porches in small groups, talking about the recent events. Some were looking up at the sky, as if idly hoping to catch a glimpse of some major disaster while they stood there gawking.
This trip was intended to be a short one, since much as he'd like to just drive straight for home he couldn't go just yet. He still had a ton of stuff in his room, stuff he'd lugged around all this time and barely used, keeping it for no reason other than that in a situation like this he'd be glad he had it. And he was.
But at the moment he was headed to the nearest gas station. Technically he had enough fuel in his tank to travel the 75 miles to Aspen Hill and then some, a deliberate decision on his part just in case he ever had to make the drive without the opportunity to refuel. But with the local, state, and Federal governments seizing all the remaining fuel he wanted to get as much as he could before it couldn't be got for love or money. Not only would he fill up his tank but he also had four 3-gallon gas cans in his trunk he'd been meaning to fill up before gas prices got too outrageous, and then it had been too late because gas prices became outrageous.
It didn't matter now. Any money left in his wallet, in his bank account, and under the limit of his credit cards would soon be worthless. The economy had barely been limping along as it was, and with zero fuel sure to grind commerce to a halt it was about to crash and burn.
To his dismay when he reached the nearest station he saw it was filled with vehicles. That wasn't the problem, though: on every single gas pump an “OUT OF ORDER” sticker had been put over the fuel type selector buttons. And if that didn't get the point across, judging by the blank screens the pumps were all turned off.
Trev grit his teeth as he took in the sight. He should've expected that the government would act first to secure the sources of fuel and then make the announcement. Specifically for the purpose of preventing people like him, and the dozens of people crowding the station lot with their cars and trying to make the pumps work who'd had the same idea, from snatching up all the fuel before it could be seized.
He was tempted to go in and talk to the station attendants to confirm his suspicions, but the poor employees were already being harried by a crowd of customers demanding they turn the pumps back on. Trev had a feeling that could become a potential source of violence, and he assumed the City Council would soon send a tanker truck around to all the gas stations and other places where fuel could be foun
d to pump it all in and take it somewhere more secure.
As for Trev, he had a feeling it would be a waste of time but he wasn't ready to give up yet. There might be some stations that were slower to respond and were still selling gas, or at least hadn't turned off the pumps so he could pay with a card before they did.
He signaled and edged out of the turning lane, continuing on to the light and reentering the turning lane there. He hadn't seen the roads this crowded since before the Middle East Crisis, and while he'd cursed the bureaucracy that had kept the streetlights on their stupid high-traffic timers back when the streets were deserted and he was forced to wait for several minutes at an empty intersection for them to finally turn, now they were actually performing their function again.
So he sat waiting at the light, cursing the waste of gas but with traffic this dense not wanting to turn off his engine to save fuel and end up pissing off everyone behind him.
Although it looked as if the driver of the SUV in his rearview mirror was already pissed off enough, considering the vehicle was lurching forward then easing back in an obvious display of impatience. The SUV was riding his tailgate so hard Trev expected to be nudged at any moment. If he hadn't already assumed some uncharitable things about the guy from the fact that he was driving a vehicle that had to get less than twenty miles to the gallon when gas was over ten dollars at the pump, this display would've confirmed it.
Finally the driver backed up a bit, but only to roar past everyone in the turning lane on the oncoming traffic side of the road while everyone at the intersection was stopped by red lights. His impatience allowed him to turn left about two seconds before their light turned green and the cars in front of Trev started going. The driver also flipped everyone a rude gesture as he passed. In spite of the situation Trev did feel a bit of satisfaction since, unlike the SUV, he had seen the patrol car sitting in the gas station lot.
