by Chris Pike
“Where y’all headed?” the rancher asked. He stepped off the tractor and offered a hand to Nico.
Above the roar of the engine Nico yelled, “Into town!”
“Hop on,” he said. “I’m Emmett Jackson. I’ve been ferrying people who have been stuck on the roads back to their homes.”
“I’m Nico Bell, and this is Josh Lopez.”
Emmett spied Josh’s flight uniform. “You from the base?”
“Yes, sir. I had to eject when my jet lost power.”
Emmett took off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair. “Yup. I heard about several planes nose-diving to the ground. You’re lucky you got out.”
“Have you heard of any other pilots ejecting?”
“Sorry, son, I haven’t.” Emmett noticed Josh’s shoulders drop. “Don’t worry,” he said, “it’s a big area they fly over. They could’ve ejected a hundred miles from here.”
“I hope so. We were all taking our first solo flight.” Josh kicked the toe of his boot on the road. “What an initiation.”
“There’s nothing we can do for the moment,” Emmett said. “Hop on and I’ll take you into town.”
The tractor only managed a few more miles per hour than Nico and Josh could walk, but considering how tired they were, they welcomed the offer of a ride into town and a chance to rest their aching feet.
The rancher explained his wife sent him to town to get milk and bread the previous day. “Then all these people came running up to me begging for a ride. It’s the oddest thing with electricity not working and the cars not starting. I thought it was bad luck or coincidence out at the ranch. Considering it’s happened across a wide area, it can’t be a coincidence or multiple blown transformers as some people have surmised. What do you think is going on?”
“Don’t know,” Nico said.
“Josh,” Emmett said, “you’re in the military. What do you think?”
“If I told you, you probably wouldn’t believe me.”
“Try me,” Emmett said.
“Do you know what an EMP is?”
“Nope.”
“It’s an electromagnetic pulse, caused by the sun or even worse, a nuclear bomb detonated high in the atmosphere. Not enough for radiation damage, but enough to take down the electrical grid and anything relying on a computer board.”
“Nah, can’t be,” Emmett said. “That sounds like hocus pocus tomfoolery some sci-fi author would make up.”
“Maybe so,” Josh said. “It’s only a theory, something we briefly touched upon in school. It’s never been tested.”
“If we’re being graded, test grades are only pass or fail,” Nico cut in. “I don’t know about you two, but I’ve never failed anything in my life and don’t plan on starting now.”
* * *
An hour later, after a bumpy and extremely slow ride, the rancher stopped in the town’s only grocery store’s parking lot where he idled the tractor to a stop. Nico and Josh hopped off the tractor and stretched their legs.
“Will ya look at that?” Emmett said, his mouth gaped open at the scene.
The front glass plated doors of the grocery store had been shattered and the store looked like a bomb had hit it. Displays were knocked over, shelves had been picked clean, and sundry items lay scattered on the floor.
“Yesterday, it was still open for business.”
“Don’t you know the old saying?” Nico asked.
“What saying?” Emmett said.
“Society is only three meals away from anarchy. Today is the second day after the electricity went off, which means we’re already passed three meals. People have realized resources are scarce and the government is incapable or unwilling to help. The citizens have taken matters into their own hands, including looting the grocery store. If their kids are hungry, parents will do anything to feed them.”
“Lord Almighty!” Emmett exclaimed. “I better get home to my wife and tell her there won’t be any store-bought milk anytime soon. I’m sorry, boys. I’m going to have to leave you here. Hope you understand.”
“No problem,” Nico said. “We understand. You’ve already helped us considerably.” He reached up to shake hands. “Godspeed to you and take care of yourself.”
“And the same to you.” Emmett laboriously turned the steering wheel a hard right, lurched forward a few feet, then had to back up the ancient tractor. It groaned and creaked as if to protest the movements required.
Emmett throttled the tractor full speed to make a hasty exit, or as hasty as the tractor would rumble. The last Nico saw of him through the black smoke of the tractor was a hazy image of a man hell-bent on getting home.
“Want to check out the store?” Nico asked.
“Sure, why not?” Josh said. “I don’t want to stay too long, ‘cause it’s getting dark. I want to be out of here when the looters come back.”
Carefully, Nico and Josh stepped over the shattered glass and entered the store. They stopped near the front where customers normally checked out groceries. The cash register drawers had been ripped out and tossed on the floor. A few pennies were scattered around on the floor along with empty bottled water containers.
The stands by the cash registers containing impulse purchases of gum and candy were empty except for a few pieces of bubble gum. Nico picked one up, unwrapped it, and popped it in his mouth, chewing audibly. Getting an idea, he got on all fours and looked under the stands. As he thought, there were several candy bars accidentally kicked out of sight. In the looters’ haste and melee, they had probably scooped up the candy bars by the handfuls, not mindful of any on the floor.
Stretching his arm as far as he could, Nico retrieved several Hershey chocolate bars with almonds, and once his eyes acclimated to the low light, he spied two Baby Ruths and four fun sized Butterfingers. Not exactly his favorites, but it would give him the added boost he needed and quell the empty feeling in his stomach.
Nico put the candy bars and gum on the conveyor belt, divided the stash equally, then handed half to Josh.
“Thanks,” Josh said. He stuffed the candy in his pockets. “I’m going to check the courtesy booth for anything useful.”
“Good idea,” Nico replied. “I’ll make a quick sweep of the store.”
Nico grabbed a hand held basket and sprinted down the aisles, while Josh quickly opened the cabinets which appeared not to have been rifled through. There were office supplies, paper napkins, hand lotion, pictures of kids, books of stamps, a stapler, tape dispenser, then way in the back of one of the cabinets he spied a case of water. Josh pulled it out and lugged it on top of the counter.
Nico came back.
“Whatd’ya find?” Josh asked.
“Not much,” Nico said. “The deli is empty except for spoiled meat and cheese. I found a box of crackers and a peanut butter sandwich which I guess was someone’s lunch.” Digging around in the basket, he pulled out a packet of baby wipes. “For, you know…necessities.”
Josh gave a ‘sup nod. “Gotcha.”
“Let’s check upstairs,” Nico said.
“What for?” Josh asked.
“The manager’s office should be up there.” He pointed to the ceiling. “See all those mirrors?”
“Yeah.”
“Two-way glass. Offices are up there. It’s where they look for shoplifters. Stairs should be near the meat department. Bathrooms too, so if you need to go, now’s the time.”
“I could use a pit stop,” Josh said. He grabbed two plastic bags, checked the magazines, then popped the latest gossip magazine into the bag. Reading about the latest Hollywood gossip and the A-lister star’s shenanigans always entertained him. He’d had enough of calculus and trigonometry to last him a while. What he needed was brain putty reading and the magazine he held in his hands fit the bill.
Before Josh left for his maiden solo flight, he had dropped his car keys into his pocket. It had a small Photon flashlight on it, and flicking it on, he was surprised it still worked, casting a feeble, yet
readable, light.
“See you in a few minutes,” Nico said.
Josh opened the bathroom door and peered into the darkened space. He propped open the door using his foot. Other than Nico clomping up the stairs, it was eerily quiet.
“Anybody here?” Josh tentatively asked. He waited for an answer although he didn’t expect one. He held the door as it shut, letting it click into place.
Flicking on the flashlight, he chose a stall on the end where he pushed open the door. The toilet was a household type instead of a commercial one. He peered in the bowl filled with water.
Good.
Meaning water was in the tank so he wouldn’t have to waste any of his precious bottled water. He took a minute to squirt some pumper soap on his face then went to the tank and splashed cold water on his face and hair. He wiped his hands on his flight suit then sat down.
He shook open the magazine and thumbed to the story about an A-list actor who had been caught red-handed fooling around with his leading lady. Apparently the A-lister’s wife had hired a private detective and once she had the evidence, she said she was going to take the guy to the cleaners. There had been no pre-nup, so with the latest string of blockbusters the wife was sure to get the L.A. mansion, four vintage and very expensive cars, and—
A sneeze came from somewhere in the bathroom.
Josh had been so enthralled in the article he wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. His mind might be playing tricks on him.
Another sneeze!
“Who’s there?” Josh demanded in his most authoritative voice. In the cramped confines of the stall and the fact he was sitting on a toilet, he was aware of his vulnerable situation.
There was no answer.
“If you make another move, I’ll shoot,” Josh said. He ducked his head under the stalls and looked for another pair of feet. He shined the flashlight in the direction of the sound, but still didn’t see anything. He quickly buttoned up and carefully eased open the bathroom door.
He pushed open each stall door and peered in, second guessing what he thought was a sneeze. Maybe it had been water in the pipes, or someone had entered the store. Maybe in his tired state of mind brought on by exhaustion he had imagined the sound, that was, until he opened the last stall door.
Chapter 13
Nope, he had heard it alright.
“Who are you?” Josh asked. He shined the flashlight on the girl’s face full of freckles and childhood innocence. Ringlets of light brown hair tumbled around her cheeks.
The eight or nine year old girl looked at him as if he was a male lion and she was a hapless gazelle about to be devoured. She was sitting on the back of the toilet with her knees tucked to her chest.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
Still no answer.
“What’s your name?”
The girl shook her head and crossed her arms. “You need to leave because you’re in the ladies room. Boys aren’t supposed to be in here. Only little boys are allowed, and only if their moms are with them.”
Josh laughed at the mix-up and the spunk she displayed for such a small girl. “Sorry, I didn’t know. I thought this was the men’s room.”
“It’s not,” she said, pointing him in the right direction. “It’s over there.”
Josh noted her voice was steadfast and didn’t waver. She was a little pistol and a scrappy girl. “The lights were off. I didn’t notice.”
The girl looked at him with speculation.
Josh cleared his throat. “My name is Josh. I fly airplanes.”
The girl immediately perked up. “You do?”
“Yes,” he said, noticing the change in her demeanor. “Important airplanes that keep our country safe.”
The girl’s eyes got big and round. “Do you know my daddy? He flies those fast planes in the sky. I’m Tracey.”
“Is your daddy stationed at Laughlin?”
She nodded.
“What’s his name?”
“Bill Killion.”
A breath of horror escaped Josh’s lips. “Bill Killion is your dad?”
“Yes,” Tracey said. “His nickname is Kill Bill.”
“After the old movie.”
“Right,” Tracey said excitedly. “Do you know my daddy?”
“I did...I do. We worked together, and he always talked about you and how proud he is of you. We were about to get our…” Josh stopped in mid-sentence at the thought Bill was also taking his first solo flight. He recalled seeing Bill’s jet lose power before his did. Helpless in the air, Josh followed Bill’s jet and waited for him to eject. Images of the jet spiraling out of control to the ground, followed by the explosion knowing Bill would have been killed instantly, came to him.
“What’s wrong?” Tracey asked.
Josh dropped to his knees so he’d be eye to eye with Tracy. He looked at her with a mixture of fatherly protection and utter sadness.
“Tracy,” Josh said. “Your dad is…” Josh diverted his gaze, unable to make eye contact with Tracey. “Where’s your mom?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t come home last night from night school where she’s getting a master’s in education and my sitter had to leave early and my phone isn’t working and I couldn’t text my mom or dad. The TV doesn’t work and I’m hungry and the milk tasted yukky this morning and I didn’t know what to do, so I came to the grocery store to get food, and I had to go to the bathroom—”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down,” Josh said. “I’ll take you home. Do you live far from here?”
“No.”
“Can you find your way back home?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll take you there. I’m sure your mom is probably home by now and is probably worried—”
The bathroom door flung open. Josh pivoted expecting to see Nico, instead two teen boys rushed Josh.
Josh pushed Tracey out of the way then ducked as one of the teens swung a metal bat at his head. The bat collided with a stall door, knocking it inward, banging the dividing wall.
Tracey screamed.
The hit which missed Tracey by inches was so powerful the reverberating metal bat sent shivers through the teen’s hands and up to his arms. For a moment the teen was stunned, and he waited in surprised shock for the feeling to return to his arms.
Josh kicked his right leg out, making contact with the back leg of the other teen, some pimply, gangly kid jacked up on youthful bravado. The teen buckled to the linoleum floor, and when he was down Josh kicked him in the fleshy part of his thigh, not enough to do any real damage, only hard enough to leave a nasty bruise. The kid let out a surprised high pitched squeal as if having his swagger wounded was worse than a real injury.
The teen holding the bat lifted it high above his head, took a quick step forward, and as he was about to bring it down hard and fast on Josh, an opposing force jerked him back. Off balance and with his arms at a weakened position over his head, the teen struggled to get control of the bat and regain his footing.
Two hands had a stronghold on the bat and kept the teen at an awkward angle. A hard knee to the teen’s kidneys forced him to release the bat. He bent at the waist and grunted in pain.
Another kick to the back sent him sprawling on top of the other juvenile delinquent.
“You came in the nick of time,” Josh said.
“I don’t think these jerks will be bothering you anytime soon.” Nico cast a disgusted look at the teens who were cowering on the floor. “Who are you?” he demanded. When there was no answer, Nico decided to bluff them. “I’ll crack your skull right now if you don’t tell me your names.” He held the metal bat high over his head, moving it as if he was about to hit a fast ball.
“I’m Stewart Kunkul. Don’t…don’t…hurt me,” he stuttered. He held a feeble shaking hand over his head.
Nico took a commanding step forward. “Who’s your friend?”
“Uh, uh, his name is Gene—”
“Shut up!”
“—Paulson.”
>
“Well, Stewart and Gene,” Nico said, “What should we do with you?” He ran a hand over his chin.
“Please,” Stewart pleaded, “let us go. We were kidding. We weren’t going to hurt you.”
“Oh really? You and this metal bat?”
“I just found it. It’s not even mine.”
“You stole it?” Nico asked.
“No we didn’t. Right, Gene?” Stewart elbowed Gene. “Right?”
“Yeah, right. We found it in the park, and we were bored and didn’t have anything to do so we came to the grocery store. We thought this guy was a looter.”
“You expect me to believe that?” Nico asked.
“It’s the truth!” Stewart squealed, his voice rising to the pitch of an adolescent girl.
“Maybe you can pull the wool over your parents’ eyes, but not over mine.” Nico paused for effect. “Josh, what do you think we should do with them?”
“I swear it’s the truth,” Stewart said.
Rising, Josh stepped closer to Nico. Looking Nico straight in the eye, Josh winked. “We have a special new program at the base.”
“So?” Stewart said. “What does that have to do with us?”
“It has everything to do with punk kids like you who get into trouble.” Josh paced back and forth in front of the teen. “The program lets parents drop off their delinquent kids at the base no questions asked, so we can do what we want to with them.”
“D-do what with them?” Stewart’s voice shook with anxiety.
“Let me explain. First I need you to promise you won’t tell anybody about it because the kids who graduated are sworn to secrecy.” Josh glanced at Nico and winked. “Otherwise there are dire consequences to be paid.”
“Right,” Nico said, playing along. “It’s a brand new program. Border Patrol got an email about that the other day.” He could barely keep from laughing at the scared expressions on the teen’s faces.
“You’re joking,” Stewart said. His gaze bounced from Nico to Josh to the exit.
Nico stepped in front of the door.
“Nope, it’s called TBS,” Josh said. “Stands for Teens Being Stupid.”
