We take a path to the left, skirting the neighbor's cornfield and head down towards the big spring-fed pond. Redwinged blackbirds and sparrows flit around the meadow to our right as we come up on the pond.
"Look along the edge of the water, kids," I say. "You'll see fish in there. Sometimes you'll even see a big bass." It's a big pond, four acres, with a good natural balance that keeps it clean. Dad had it cleaned out and stocked after they bought the place and the fishing is quite good. The kids want to take out the canoes, but again get turned down. Plenty of time for that tomorrow, they're told, as they are staying a few days before heading home.
As we head back up the slight hill towards the new house, my sister remarks, "Mom and Dad really found an awesome place when they found this old farm. We'd love to have something like this, but just that old farmhouse on a two acre lot would be like two million dollars in the Bay Area!"
"Yeah, Mark, this place really is remarkable," says my son-in-law. "So you and Rebecca are going to move out here?" Turning to Rebecca he asks, "Becca, you buyin' in to this plan? You weren't exactly raised a tomboy. Nearest nail salon gotta be twenty miles away!"
"Hey, smart ass! I'm gonna love it here," My wife retorts. "And I'll outfish you any day. Who do you think taught your wife how to bait a hook anyway? Besides, the hair salon in town does nails and she's quite good. So there!"
The kids head off to tell about their adventure to the other kids and we all rejoin the party.
The merriment and memories continue long into the evening. As guests begin to leave we all start making claims for our sleeping quarters. Between my parents' house and the old farm house there is room for all the adult children with a few grandkids sprawled out on couches or on the floor. We cherish the comfortable closeness, wondering if we will ever all be together there again.
Chapter 4 Gathering, September 11, 2018
My wife's building comes into view. I turn the corner heading up the drive to the large parking areas. People are everywhere, kind of like at the school, kind of looking like a fire drill, but less organized. An older model Mustang heads out past me with five people in it, three crammed in the tiny rear seat. It being such a nice day, someone must have decided to bring their classic car to work, lucky for him and his friends.
Again, the stares, and again, people moving out of my way. I am hoping I won’t need to drive through the parking areas. They are full of people, many staring bewildered at their cars with the hoods up; a few people are actually trying some useless repairs.
Security people approach me as I pull up to the visitors parking area near the main entrance. I glance at the shotgun wrapped in the blanket, and rest my hand on the pistol grip of my Glock. Two gentlemen in security uniforms and a well-dressed woman come up to the open window of the van.
"Can I help you with something?" the older of the two guards asks.
"I'm looking for my wife, Rebecca Mays, she works in payroll," I state.
The woman says, "I know Becca Mays, she works here. I saw her a bit ago, she was in the rear parking area with some of her friends."
I don't want to have to circle the building. Over three hundred people work here. Confusion is starting to set in, and driving through all these parking lots and people is not a good idea. "Could you send someone to let her know her husband is here to pick her up?" I ask, as if today was just another normal day.
The woman says no problem, and finds a nearby subordinate to go seek my wife.
The younger guard steps a little closer and asks, "What's going on here? How come your van is running? Why won’t anyone else's vehicle start? Nothing is working but you got a vehicle that runs."
At that moment I start to hear the low whumping sounds of helicopters in the distance. I look in the direction of the sound, coming from nearby Murtha Airport. As it grows louder I say, "Hey, look there. The National Guard is up and running as usual." We all turn and watch a flight of four helicopters come over the tree line. Two Apache attack helicopters flanking two Blackhawk transport gun-ships.
My mind races and I quickly realize the military is activating to evecuate the VIPs from the Shanksville, Flight 93 Memorial ceremony. An hour in, and hardened assets are being deployed. I don’t recall who the VIP's are, but I am sure it's at least the Secretary of Homeland Security and a few Four Star Generals. The nearby military/civilian airport has to be in full operational mode. All hardened assets will be moving to protect the elite. I briefly wonder the fate of the average citizen, who has placed too much reliance on the government it thought would take care of them. Thousands of people in Shanksville will be left to their own devices as the elite are whisked away to Camp David or Greenbrier or some other hardened site.
The young guard says, "Hey, we got things coming back on line! Wonder if my cell phone is back up and workin' agin?" He fumbles for his connection to everything he thinks is real. I thank God for the short distraction.
The flight of helicopters overhead has distracted everyone. Even though it's only been an hour, everyone knows it's not like a normal power outage. Computers are shut down, cell phones may power up but have no bars. Some battery powered equipment works, but anything connected to the grid is down. Cars won't start. Plumes of smoke from distant fires can be seen, but there are no sirens wailing. All mechanical sounds are gone, no traffic, no horns, no twenty-first century background noise.
The young guard looks up from his inoperable cell phone. "Ain't workin'! I don’t like this whole shit pile," he says as he looks around. "Ain't no cops or ambulances runnin'. I ain't heard nothing over the radio, and I see…Crap! I see at least four fires going up! This is bad, mister, this is bad. I heard ‘bout shit like this, and this is bad!"
I start to feel something bad coming myself, but try to empathize with the young man. "I know what you mean, young man, I know this all ain't right. Can I offer you a word of advice, what I think?"
"What do you think old man?" he asks, irritated.
"Go home to your family. Sit with them, hug them, and pray to God for forgiveness and protection. What has just happened is an EMP, and life is going to get very hard." I struggle with the next words. I want to say "Pray with me now. The Lord will hear your prayers, the Lord will be with you," but I am not strong enough to say them.
"EMP! I been thinkin' that, old man. Seen it on some survivor pod-casts. It's why ain't nothing runnin', ain't nothing gonna run!"
I'm feeling this situation is going to go down hill as I see Rebecca come around the corner with several other people, casually walking toward me. At the sight of me and the van Rebecca beams a smile at me and waves happily. I wave back, and beckon her to hurry. She picks up the pace, and beckons to her friends to do so as well.
The young guard steps right up to my window and says, "How come you got a vehicle that runs? We're gonna need this vehicle if it runs, and nothing else does. I gotta get home, we gotta get these people home!"
"Don't panic, calm down," I say to the young guard. As Rebecca runs up to the van, I jump out of the van pushing the young guard back just by opening the door. I hug my wife hard as I whisper in her ear "Becca, it's an EMP and it's bad. I watched planes go down. We talked about this. Pray, Jesus will give us peace."
"Janet!" she exclaims as she turns to the well dressed woman, "What's going on?" I can hear the concern in Becca's voice, but she is being genuine.
"All our systems are still down, and I guess so is everything else, as your husband was just telling us. I don’t know though, I think it's just a glitch. They'll get everything back up soon. Our security has a handle on things," Janet continues. "But I don’t see any sense in keeping everyone here. Let your people know they can go home, but we expect them here tomorrow. I gotta go check with IT, and see if they have any news."
The young guard, feeling more confident in himself after hearing Janet's approval, asks me where I'm heading to. I dismissively tell him I'm picking up my kids and heading home.
"We got three hundred people here that
need a ride home, your van is the only thing I see running. Mister, we're going to need to use your van," States the young guard.
"Whoa, friend!" I exclaim. "Hold your horses! This is my van, and I got my own people to get home."
"But sir, you just stated this is an EMP attack, and that makes this a national emergency. In my position, I can impose Homeland Security initiatives, and claim your property for the general good and use of the State. I have people here who need transportation and you have the means of transportation. Step aside, sir. I proclaim your van as Property of the State in an emergency situation."
"I don't think so!" I say incredulously, "Your homeland security initiatives don’t mean squat to me. You just blew through several constitutional amendments with your shiny little badge. You ain't takin' my van, my property! You got no right, and you ain't got the balls!"
"Listen, you redneck tea-bagger, I was told about folk like you," the guard responds angrily. "Rights didn’t mean shit then and don’t mean shit now. Our training from Homeland Security clearly stated that the president's directive was that we take control of the situation as we see necessary in an emergency. I see your van as necessary and this is an emergency! Step aside old man, I am procuring this van under just cause."
I see this spinning out of control. I pray for wisdom, Christ has already given me peace.
Turning to my beloved wife I say, "Becca, get in the van! Check the glove box, and under your seat. Tell your four friends to get in the back. We'll give them a ride as far as we can."
Turning back to the security guard, I loudy state "Young buck, our constitution trumps your presidential directive every time. Emergency or not, this is my property, and you have no right to it. Stand down!" This is not going well.
"You old fart! I'll rip through you like shit through a wet sack. Step aside!" he shouts as he raises his arms to charge me.
Before he takes two steps in my direction, he is staring down the business end of my 9mm. "Don’t make me let this rip through your skull like lead through bone." I calmly but sternly state, fully ready to use deadly force to defend myself and my property from this punk. "You're nothing more than a car jacker with a badge! Step back."
The older guard steps up and the grabs the young guard. "Jimmy, what are you doing? He's right. You can't just claim his property. I watched that video too, but that's bullshit. You can't be some Gestapo type. He's just trying to take care of his own. Calm down."
"Yeah, calm down, Jimmy" I say. And at the Lord's urging I add. "I will gladly help those I can help, but I won't be forced to help those I can’t." Keeping the Glock rigidly aimed at Jimmy, I climb back in the van.
With Rebecca and her friends in the van we head back down towards the main road. I'm glad to see Becca has her Glock locked and loaded, held steady, in a ready position. We turn north, away from her office complex.
Chapter 5 Getting Janie, September 11, 2018
"Rebecca!" I exclaim, "I'm so glad I got to you! Thank God! I gotta pull off and regroup, babe, my head is spinning." I pull off by an AYSO soccer field and get out of the van, putting my hands on my knees and taking a few deep breathes. Becca gets out and comes around the van. I stand up and we hug deeply.
"I'm here, baby, I'm here," she whispers in my ear. "If God is with us, who can stand against us?" she quotes to me. I feel strengthened. She steps back and gives me a very concerned look. "What the hell is going on! Explain!" Her penetrating green eyes, full of wisdom and hope, lock with my eyes.
"Becca, we've been attacked. Someone, the Russians, ISIS, I don’t know, set off an EMP. Everything electronic has been fried. What we talked about has happened. We need to get everyone to the farm," I say hurriedly.
"EMP!" Rebecca exclaims. "We talked about a depression. We prepared for bad times, not end times! An EMP! Oh my God! Mark! Oh my God!" she begins to weep.
"Becca, Becca, Becca! I am with you and God is with us," I tell her. "We will be okay, but we have to move forward." We embrace tightly again for a few more moments.
I step back, breaking the comfort of the deepfelt hug. "Who are your friends we have with us and where do they live? I felt we couldn't leave them there, but what can we do now? How can we help them? Eeergh! This is not how it was supposed to happen!"
We get everyone out of the van and I open the hood to make it look like we are broke down too. There are several college students and other pedestrians walking our way, so I figure we should try to blend in.
One guy, Adam, a hunter and outdoorsman, lives about ten miles north of where we are parked. I let him know what's going on as best I can. I let him know we can get him to the interstate overpass and he will have to walk from there. He gets it, and agrees. I give him some water, it's all I can offer. He sees the ARs and asks about them. I assure him he can get home before it turns bad, but that he should do so as fast as he can. He should be home in a couple of hours.
Two of the girls with us live nearby, but they are close to being hysterical. They hear me telling Adam he has to walk home and that unhinges them. We repeatedly try to calm them down, assuring them that we will do our best to take care of them. We pray together and that calms them. We assure them again that we will get them home safely.
We load back into the van and together plan our next moves. One of the girls lives about two miles further from town than where we are now. We head in that direction first. Without incident, we get to her front door. Her husband and kids are not there. She pleads with us to help her get her husband and children. We are torn. We cannot do that. Becca puts her foot down. "Tina, we kept our word to you and got you home! Your kids' school is not far away. You go get them and walk them home. You need to step up and take care of yourself. Take the first step now, cause we can't take it for you. You can do this. You have to do this." With that we load up and head back towards town.
The next girl lives literally two blocks from my stepson and daughter-in-law's house. A few miles on the back roads and a mile on the four lane gets us there. The four lane is surprisingly clear, most cars having coasted to the side of the road. It seems that stranded drivers have started to walk, either looking for help or trying to get home. We drop her off at her front door.
Georgeann, our last passenger, lives on the other side of town. I try to convey to her that I can't get her there today. I tell her how things are different, stalled cars, no traffic lights, lots of people being confused and walking, and how people will want to take my van just because it's running.
She has two young kids, who should be coming home from school, and she needs to be home for them. The Lord inspires me. Since we took her into the van, we can help her, need to help her. I know He will be with us, that we can help her.
Inspired, I ask, "You live in the west end, right?"
"Yeah, just on the other side of the tracks from the supermarket," she responds.
"This may sound weird, Georgeann, but I am a Christian man. The good Lord would not have had us pick you up if we couldn’t help you. So I believe the Lord is with us, and we can get you close to home. You have to have faith in the Lord that we can get this done, okay?"
She looks at me, and suddenly she brightens, something changed in her. "I do have faith Mark, I believe you, with God, we can do this."
I laugh, happily, the first time in hours. "Yes, exactly! Let's put a plan together."
I let everyone know we would go to our daughter-in law, Janie's house first. Becca would stay with her and help her get ready to go. Then I would take Georgann as far as I could.
Two minutes later we pull in to Janie and Zach's driveway, I honk upon our arrival. We go through the side gate and rap on the back door. A few moments later, Janie's perpetually optimistic smiling face appears at the door with her beautiful two year old in her arms. "Hey guys! Welcome! What are you doing here?" she exclaims enthusiastically.
I take a deep breath and look at Becca, beckoning her to begin the conversation, to burst the bubble. Rebecca wraps them both up in a big hug
and says. "I love you both so much." Stepping back and turning to Janie she says, "Janie, we got to talk."
Seeing that I need to move things a little more quickly, I butt in. "Power's out, right?" a wide eyed nod from Janie, "Cell phone won't work, right?" another nod.
"Mark," Becca steps in. "I'll handle this. Janie, we've been attacked. ISIS, Russia, Chinese, we don’t know who, but what Mark is trying to tell you is that everything electrical is down. Cars, computers, cell phones, all down. And not just down, it's off permanently. An EMP. Zach and you, and all of us have talked about this."
Janie's beaming smile and bright eyes are fading as Rebecca talks. Her tanned face turns pale, and she clutches harder to her child. She reaches behind her and grabs a kitchen chair to sit down. "Oh my God, Oh my God, Be with us Lord. Oh my God" She mumbles.
You can see in her eyes that her mind is starting to race and calculate the next steps. She is the mother of five children, an eternal optimist, a survivor by instinct; fiercely loyal to her family and husband. "How do you know? Are you sure? Power could come back on in twenty minutes. How do you know?" she asks emphatically, but logically.
I explain the planes falling from the sky, and everything else that I have seen. Rebecca explains what happened at her office, and all the events that have happened so far including the overzealous security guard, and all the idled cars.
"This is not happening, this is not happening!" Janie repeats. Rebecca reaches for her hand.
I clasp Janie’s other hand. "Yes, it is, Janie, yes it is. Pray with us." I say. "Dear Lord, we do not know why this has happened, but we know we must move forward. We are here by your grace, and by your grace we will move on, and follow the path you have laid before us. Grant us wisdom, dear Lord, grant us peace, in Christ's name, Amen."
Righteous Gathering: Book 1 of the Righteous Survival EMP Saga Page 3
