by Harley Tate
Walter gripped the back of the chair, his knuckles turning white from the force.
“I’ve talked to my superiors, they’ve talked to theirs, and everywhere in the Army, the story is the same. The United States as we know it is gone. Without power, the government has already fallen apart. Members of the House and Senate fled their posts, concerned more about their families than their constituents. The president is alive, but completely ineffective. He refused to implement martial law for the first week, insisting all of the scientists were wrong and that the power could be resorted in short order. He said even if it was a lie, we should tell people not to worry, that it would come back on any day.”
The sergeant exhaled in disgust. “How can I look a woman and her children in the eye and lie to her? I’d be sending her to her death. It might not be today or tomorrow, but every day she waits to get food and water is a day she doesn’t have.”
The radio crackled and Tucker fiddled with the knob, trying to keep the signal.
“Even the guys in my unit are leaving. All we have to eat are MREs. There’s no way to pay anyone for their service. It’s a mess. Fort Stewart is okay. All the base families have opened their homes to families living off base and they’ve developed a rationing system for the food and water stored onsite. The barricades have been closed and the whole place is on lockdown. But—”
The sergeant paused. “I just keep thinking about everyone else. The millions of Americans out there on their own with no food or water. I’m sitting up on this hill, broadcasting this message in hopes you hear me. No one is coming to help you. Get what you can, do what you can now, because this moment? It’s the best chance you’ve got to survive.”
The radio crackled again and Tucker turned the knob, trying to get the signal back. Walter stepped away, turning to face the windows of the radio booth. All of his worst fears were true. The blackout hit not just the West Coast, but all of the United States. For all they knew Canada and Mexico were equally powerless.
No help would be coming for the millions of people trapped inside major cities across the country. With little food and water and nowhere to go, how long could they live? How many millions would die over the next month? He thought about their meager supplies back at the house. Whatever they had would need to last as long as possible and soon, their strategy would need to change.
Walter turned back around and caught the wide eyes of his daughter in the light of the flashlights they’d propped up around the room. She smiled at him. “I guess you were right. It’s nationwide.”
“Seems that way.”
He could tell from the way she held her expression that Madison fought off a wave of tears. “What are we going to do?”
Walter rushed up and wrapped his arms around her. She might not be five years old and clinging to his leg, but Madison was still his daughter and she needed him. Maybe now more than ever. He ran his hand through her tangled hair. “We’re going back to the house, getting you cleaned up, and then we can talk to your mother.”
“I mean the future, Dad. What are we going to do? How are we going to survive?”
He planted a kiss on Madison’s head before pulling back. “One day at a time.” Walter glanced up and cleared his throat. “Who’s ready to get out of here?”
Brianna and Tucker both raised their hands.
“Good. Everyone grab a flashlight and let’s go.”
Tucker stopped him. “Can we grab some of this gear too? I think I can make a portable radio that will work with a car battery. It’ll give us a chance to listen to any more news out there.”
Walter nodded. “All right. Brianna, you’re in charge of weapons. Madison, you take the lights. Tucker and I will gather up anything useful here.”
Everyone set to work and in minutes, they were walking out of the communications building and into the dark.
DAY TEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
TRACY
863 Dewberry Lane, Chico, CA
7:00 a.m.
“We’re already at capacity. The back of the Jetta is scraping against every speed bump we cross, and the Jeep has so much gear tied to the top, it could topple over in a strong enough wind.”
“We can pack tighter.” Walter wrapped his fingers around Tracy’s arm and pulled her close. Even in the dim light of the pantry, his eyes still held so much warmth and love. “You heard the broadcasts, hon. We have to take as much as we can.”
Tracy exhaled. Everything her husband said was true, but she didn’t see how they could take any more. When they walked in late the night before, Tucker set to work. He rigged up the car battery Walter had pulled from his rental car and the radio components they took from the campus building.
Within an hour, Tracy was listening to voices from across the country delving into their worst fears and bitter memories. Heartbreak and hunger awaited so many over the next few weeks.
She should have slept and regrouped in the morning, but Tracy couldn’t shut her eyes. Every time she tried, her eyelids popped back open and visions of her wounded daughter with a shotgun in her hands filled her mind.
She got up and started an inventory.
Thanks to the house they had co-opted as their own, Tracy guessed they had enough food to survive four more weeks. Liquid would be tight, but they could make it last by using the juice and water from any canned goods and reducing showers to wet wipe downs and braided hair.
They could stay at the little house a few more days, eat the bulky food that didn’t travel or store well, and then take what remained on the road. Peyton and Drew were in no condition to travel anyway. Although Peyton could carry on a conversation, he still suffered the lingering effects of the concussion. And Drew couldn’t speak more than a sentence before exhausting himself.
Time was such a double-edged sword now. On the one hand, every day they spent in one place meant another opportunity to forage and plan and make their long-term supplies last. But it also meant more risk. The street outside might be quiet now, but it wouldn’t be forever.
People would find them and they would have to fight.
Again.
She leaned into her husband’s embrace and closed her eyes. “We need a few days, Walter. Drew and Peyton are still too weak to travel. Maybe if we scout around, we can find a bigger car. Then we can take more.”
Walter ran his hand up and down her back, soothing away the tension. “Have I told you lately how much you mean to me?”
Tracy pulled back and searched her husband’s face. “We haven’t had a lot of time to think, let alone talk.”
“I know. And that needs to change. Now that we know more about… the future… we need to start acting accordingly.”
“What are you saying?”
Her husband smiled, eyes wandering over her face as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “This isn’t a temporary hardship. We’re not on a race course just trying to make it to the end.” He paused. “There is no end. It’s only this.”
“You mean this is as good as it’s going to get.” A furry nudge against Tracy’s leg made her start. She bent down and Fireball mewled as she scooped him up. Cats always had a way of showing up to prove a point.
Walter reached out and ran a hand through his fur. “We need to make the most of every moment. Ever since the power went out, I’ve been on a mission. Whether it’s landing a plane in the dark or getting back to you or heading to Truckee, I haven’t stopped to slow down for more than a half an hour.”
Tracy raised an eyebrow. Her husband had always been the on-the-go type. Even when they took a vacation to unplug and recharge, he couldn’t sit next to her in a beach chair and watch the tide roll in. He needed to be up with the sun, hiking and exploring and seeing somewhere new. The end of the world couldn’t have changed him that much.
“I can’t believe you want to slow down. That’s not the Walter I know.”
He shook his head. “Not slow down, but…” He glanced at the pantry shelves as he tried to put
his thoughts into words. “Prioritize. It’s like the saying we used to throw around in the Corps. Slow is smooth and smooth is fast.”
Tracy thought the words over. It reminded her of Girl Scouts and how so many skills took careful practice to gain proficiency. Rushing through a sewing project or an archery lesson only resulted in loose stitches and missed targets.
She nodded. “We need to stop running and think through our next steps.”
“Exactly. I don’t want to leave here until we’ve exhausted everything Chico has to offer.”
“Then we should go to the Agricultural Department.”
Tracy turned around to see their daughter standing in the doorway. With the sun from the kitchen windows backlighting the space, Madison looked more like a shadowy ghost than a live teenager. But her words carried real weight.
“Brianna told me about it when we were waiting for you in the communications building, Dad. She says it’s almost as big as UC Davis. That means seeds and plants and fertilizer and maybe even livestock.”
“We don’t have a trailer to haul any pigs or cows anywhere, Madison.”
“The Ag department must. Animals mean food. Survival. After what we heard last night, we need to think long-term.”
Tracy let go of her husband and smiled. “She’s definitely your daughter.”
“Indeed.” Walter held out his hand and Madison walked up to him as she placed her palm on top of his. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Ugh. Since when did the pantry become the hot spot for family bonding time?” Brianna walked into the small space, scrunching up her nose as she slipped past Tracy to survey the supplies.
The Sloane family broke apart after a quick hug. Walter disappeared into the kitchen and Tracy turned to Brianna. It had to be difficult to watch the three of them together when Brianna’s family could be a hundred miles away worried sick. “I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get to Truckee.”
Brianna nodded but didn’t make eye contact, focusing instead on the bag of flour in front of her. “Thanks.”
“Madison mentioned you two talked last night?”
The twenty-year-old nodded again, but didn’t speak. Brianna was so tough and composed in a crisis it was easy to forget she was less than half Tracy’s age.
“Do you mind staying here a few days so we can load up on supplies and maybe find a new vehicle?”
“No. I don’t mind. It’s the right call. The more we can bring up to my parents’ place, the better. The property is big enough for livestock, and there’s a portion that’s easy to clear, but my parents probably didn’t think that far ahead. Getting there was always the first priority, you know?”
She shot a quick glance at Tracy and then turned back to the shelves. The quiver in her cheek expressed more than her words ever could. Brianna was worried and homesick and probably exhausted.
Tracy gave her a quick pat on the shoulder. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here, okay?”
Brianna nodded.
“I’ll leave you two to figure out breakfast. Pick something that won’t keep long. Anything we won’t want to pack in a vehicle.” Tracy turned to leave when her daughter caught her arm.
Madison mouthed the words “thank you,” and Tracy smiled before leaving the little room. The more time she spent with Madison’s friends, the more they became family. She couldn’t bear the thought of Brianna hurting on her own.
Tracy walked through the kitchen and on into the backyard of the little house. There wasn’t more than a scrap of brown grass in the back between the fence line and the little one-car drive, but Tucker sat out in the middle of it with a hunk of electronics in his lap.
“What are you doing now?”
He glanced up, squinting to avoid the morning sun. “Charging solar panels, stripping some electrical wire, and seeing if I can’t convert this radio to run on my little backup battery. It sure would be easier than lugging a car battery around.”
“Any more news?”
Tucker shook his head. “The reception dropped way down as soon as the sun came out. I haven’t picked up a single signal this morning.”
Tracy watched him work in silence, thinking over all the testimonies they heard the night before. So many people trapped in their own little worlds, speaking into the giant void of what used to be 24/7 noise.
“Have you noticed how much more sound there is now?”
Tucker paused and looked back up. “Don’t you mean less?”
“No. I mean more. I’ve never heard so many birds or crickets or other little bugs and critters. I was standing out here this morning and the sound of a squirrel climbing up the tree caught my ear. I would never have heard his claws digging into the bark above the street noise before.”
She stepped closer to Tucker and bent down into a crouch beside his gear. “The world is noisy and busy and going on just fine without us.”
He glanced her way. “Do you think we’ll make it?”
Tracy tilted her head. “Society as a whole will have to change. I’m sure millions will die if they haven’t already. I can’t imagine cities being sustainable now. But the people who know how to farm and can protect their own little plots of land will make it. They might even thrive.”
Tucker bent his head and focused on the wire in his hands. “I know most people will die. I’ve come to accept that. What I meant was, will we make it? Do you really think we can get to Brianna’s place in Truckee? And once we’re there, can we survive?”
He glanced back up, his eyes so hopeful and bright in the morning light. Tracy wanted more than ever to lie, but she couldn’t. Not anymore. So she told the truth. “Honestly, Tucker, I have no idea. But we have to try.”
DAY ELEVEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
TRACY
Agriculture Department, CSU Chico
7:30 a.m.
Tracy, Walter, Madison, and her friends spent the entire previous day inventorying their supplies. Brianna and Tucker unpacked both cars while Tracy and Madison took the house apart and collected everything useful. Walter laid out all the first-aid supplies and medicine.
By the time the five of them finished, it was evening and everyone was spent. But it confirmed their worst fears. Without finding a way to grow and harvest their own food, survival would grow increasingly difficult. They might be able to make it through the first winter and even survive after most everyone around them perished, but after that?
At some point they would run out of places to forage. Without a garden and a farm, they would never make it a year.
“Are you sure this is the only way in?”
Walter nodded. “The greenhouse is our best bet. It’s got good natural light, easy sightlines around the tables, and it leads directly into the main building.”
“From here it looks like most of the plants are still alive.” Brianna handed her binoculars to Tracy.
As she brought them into focus, dark green splotches of leaves appeared behind the frosted greenhouse glass. She couldn’t believe it. “Someone must be there. They wouldn’t survive this long without water.”
Walter nodded. “That’s why we’re going in hot. I don’t want a repeat of the Comm building.”
Tracy lowered the binoculars and frowned at her husband. “Whoever is in there could be an ally. You seriously want to shoot first and not even stop to assess the situation?”
“Madison almost died because we didn’t.”
Brianna spoke up. “Madison isn’t here and I agree with Tracy. We shouldn’t engage unless whoever is inside is an actual threat.”
Walter rubbed a hand down his face. The man was beginning to look like a lumberjack with his inch-long beard and uncut hair. “It’s too risky. I won’t allow it.”
“You don’t get to make that call. This is a group effort, honey. At some point you’re going to have to accept that.”
He frowned. “Not today.”
Tracy rolled her eyes. “I’m not giving up, just so you know.”
>
“I’m not either.”
“You two argue like an old married couple.” Brianna unholstered a handgun and checked to make sure it was loaded. “Let’s get this over with.”
Tracy followed Brianna out from behind a grove of small trees. She turned back to her husband with a smile. “Coming?”
“Right behind you.”
It didn’t take more than five minutes to enter the greenhouse. The second the door opened, the smells of fertilizer and rich earth and growing plants hit Tracy’s nose. The humidity stuck to her skin and thickened the air. As Walter let the door shut behind him, Tracy fought the urge to leave.
Walter pointed with the tip of his rifle. “Each of you take an aisle. We can clear the greenhouse faster.”
Tracy eased over to the right, Brianna to the left, and Walter stayed in the wider middle. With her gun drawn and pointing down toward the floor, Tracy advanced. Every breath into her lungs felt a bit more like drowning. Suffocation from countless water droplets suspended in the air.
She wrapped her free hand around the base of the pistol and raised it a few degrees, willing the claustrophobia to subside. The greenhouse reminded her of her past, not because of the richness of the smell or the vibrant colors of the plants, but the closeness.
The oppressive heat and stifling fear.
Pushing the thoughts aside, she focused on the present. Nothing good ever came from her childhood memories.
“There’s got to be hundreds of plants in here. We need Madison to come and tell us which ones to pick. With all this, I’m sure we could set up a mini-farm.” Brianna slung her shotgun over her shoulder and began rooting through the plants, checking the names and pulling out ones for Madison to look over.
