15 Miles From Home

by P. A. Glaspy

  15 Miles From Home

  Book 2 in the Perilous Miles Series

  P.A. Glaspy

  Copyright 2018

  All Rights Reserved

  P.A. Glaspy

  1st Edition

  No part of this work may be reproduced in any form, except to quote in reviews or in the press, without the express permission of the author. Any unauthorized reproduction of this work is illegal and punishable by law.

  This is a work of fiction. Any parallel to persons alive or dead is purely coincidental and is not intended by the author.

  Published by Glaspy Publishing Inc

  Other works by P.A. Glaspy

  A Powerless World Series:

  Before the Power was Gone

  When the Power is Gone

  When the Peace is Gone

  When the Pain is Gone

  Perilous Miles Series:

  300 Miles

  Sunday, December 20th

  Chapter 1

  5:00 AM Eastern Standard Time

  The White House

  President Barton Olstein was awake, though still reclining in the large four-poster bed in the president's suite. He was going over his speech for the press conference coming up that morning — another attempt to assure the American people that the economy was strong, even as the national debt soared to epic proportions. He had marked out comments he felt made him look weak, or as if he wasn't doing everything he could to make the situation better. I'm only one person, he thought. This isn't my fault. He was finishing up the last of the changes he wanted made when the sky outside lit up like daylight had come all at once. He turned to the display, mesmerized. After a few moments, the light faded outside as the lights went off inside. In less than a minute, Secret Service Agent Walters burst through the door.

  "Mr. President, we have to get you to the bunker. Now!"

  The president jumped out of bed. "What's going on?"

  Agent Walters was grabbing clothes off the settee at the foot of the bed. "We don't know, Sir, but all the power is out."

  "In the city?" the president asked.

  "As far as we can tell, Sir, everywhere."

  "What do you mean everywhere? The entire country? That's impossible!" the president replied, indignantly.

  "Sir, we can discuss this further once you are secure. We have to go now. Come with me please." Walters had shoved clothes, shoes, and an overcoat into a duffel bag which he slung over his shoulder. He firmly grabbed the president's arm and started to usher him to the door.

  "Wait! My phone!" the president exclaimed, as he tried to free himself from the agent's grasp to get to his cell phone on the antique bedside table.

  Agent Walters held firm. "Don't bother, Sir. It doesn't work."

  The president looked at him in shock. "How do you know it doesn't work?"

  "Because none of them work, Sir — not yours, mine, or anyone else's, so far."

  The president stopped dead in his tracks. "Dear God. Do you know what this could mean?"

  Walters prodded him on. "Yes, sir, we're pretty sure we do. They'll meet you in the bunker."

  When the president got to the ready room in the bunker, his chief of staff, Vanessa Jackson, was already there. She had on a radio headset attached to a large ham radio-style unit. The ground above them shielded the electronics below. When he walked in the door, he heard the tail end of her conversation.

  "Yes, Admiral, let us know as soon as you find out something for sure. We'll be waiting for your call." She took the headset off and handed it to the Navy radio operator seated in front of the unit. She turned to the president.

  "Well, what is it, Vanessa? Is it …"

  "Sir, we are still getting reports in, but it looks like we have indeed been hit with an EMP. Everything above ground is knocked out, but we can still communicate with any of the silos, as well as our ships not in port here, and our military bases not in the lower forty-eight. Intelligence is telling us there was confirmation of a missile entering our atmosphere, but before we could launch a counter-attack, it detonated. The altitude was high enough to take out the power grid in the entire contiguous United States, as well as southern Canada and northern Mexico. The country is dark, Sir."

  The president stood there in shock, then said only one word. "Who?"

  Vanessa shook her head. "Nothing positive on that yet. We only got a short glimpse of the missile before it exploded. However, there is speculation it came from—"

  Olstein interrupted her, face dark red. "Russia, right? I knew that asshole was just buttering us up, so he could shove a nuke up our—"

  "No, sir. The trajectory seems to indicate the Korean Peninsula."

  Olstein was spluttering. "B-but we have a base in South Korea! Thirty-five thousand troops! How could they launch a nuclear missile and no one know about it?"

  "We're trying to find that out, Sir," she replied. "Apparently, they have acquired stealth technology from someone. In the meantime, we need to declare a state of emergency for the entire country and find as many house members as we can to declare this as an act of war."

  "Ha! Good luck with that. They all went home Friday," the president said with a snort.

  "I think the Speaker is still here. I've sent a runner over to his residence. He wasn't planning to fly out until Monday." Vanessa was checking some paperwork she had apparently brought with her. She looked pointedly at him. "Some of the joint chiefs may be in town. However, you don't need any of them or their approval to act right now."

  Olstein returned her gaze then changed his focus to a pen stand on the desk. "We can't attack anybody until we know who did this, Vanessa. We have to know for sure … be one hundred percent positive. I mean, none of our bases will be at full capacity. They have no way of calling the troops in. All hell is going to break loose across the country. We'll need to recall all of our troops to maintain law and order here. We won't have the manpower to launch an attack."

  Vanessa rolled her eyes. He wasn't looking at her anyway. Spineless, as always, she thought. I can't believe I've stayed here the whole term. She said aloud, "Sir, those are valid points, but we cannot appear weak in the eyes of the world. You know who's responsible! It has to be North Korea! If this attack goes unanswered, every piss-ant country over there will be looking to come here and get their licks in as well."

  "Exactly! That's why we can't afford to go looking for a fight. We'll need our troops here, protecting us," he replied defensively.

  Exasperated, she barked out, "We don't have to look for a fight — we're in one! We've been attacked! Do you think the American people expect you to just sit here and protect your own ass?"

  "How dare you talk to me like that! I'm the President of the United States! I'm the Commander in Chief! I decide what our military will do and where they will do it! We are bringing our troops home to protect all the people in our country, not just me or the Capitol! Get me every top military member we can find. I want all of them back here, now!" He stormed out of the room to his sleeping quarters.

  With a heavy sigh, Vanessa called her executive assistant, David Strain, in. "David, we need to get in touch with every senior military officer we can find in DC. You may have to go door to door, since we have no cell service or landlines."

  David had a confused look on his face. "Um, how are we going to get there? Every modern vehicle above ground is incapacitated."

  "Damn. I forgot. One sec." She went to the radio operator. "Get me General Everley. Tell him we need at least four Humvees from the hardened storage over here immediately. Also, tell him the president wants all of our deployed troops back ASAP. When he raises hell about bringing our troops home, patch him through to the president. His idea, he can explain it." She turned back to David. "As soon
as the Humvees get here, start trying to find the senior staff in town and get them down here. The shit storm up above may be mild compared to what is going to go down when they get here."

  Chapter 2

  4:00 AM Central Standard Time

  After losing another hour of travel time from an accident caused by the slick road conditions and possibly an inattentive driver, Will was happy to see the sign for the Shelby County line. That meant home was about fifteen miles away. He was singing along with the radio, a classic rock station out of Lexington that had a very wide range. He had saved it in his presets long ago because he could listen to it for over a hundred miles, almost all the way to Memphis. Plus, they played good music. It was starting to fade out though. He sang through the static.

  Will stopped singing when the sky lit up the upper atmosphere, almost turning the night to day. He slowed down from the fifty miles per hour he had been traveling, due to the worsening conditions of the roads, and was mesmerized by the sight.

  "What the hell was that?" Will exclaimed. As his car stopped running and the dash went dark, he said to his vehicle's interior, "What the hell is going on?" The light faded as his SUV shut down. Since he no longer had power steering, he muscled the car to the shoulder. While there weren't a lot of vehicles on the road, the few cars and semis he could see were trying to do the same. With no power, many of the big trucks just slowed to a stop where they were on the flat stretch of interstate. Others were being pushed by the momentum of the weight of their rigs and loads, sliding on the slushy road. One of them passed him slowly, rear end fishtailing, narrowly missing his front quarter panel.

  The night was eerily quiet as everything on the road slowed to a stop and went dark. An interstate with vehicles scattered along and in the road takes on the persona of a junk yard, without the associated rust and decay. Will tried the key, though he was pretty sure nothing would happen. He was right. He peered through the windshield, but he couldn't really see anything. The shadow of a tractor trailer just up ahead; maybe a car off to his left. The lack of headlights, coupled with the cloud cover and swirling snow from the winter storm, had cast the area into almost pitch black. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he was beginning to make out other things: definitely a car to the left. The driver had gotten out and raised the hood, apparently thinking it was a mechanical problem. Will watched as the portly man looked over at him, then turned slowly to see the rest of the early morning travelers were not moving either. He started toward Will's car, instinctively looking for oncoming traffic before he crossed. Will got out of his own vehicle with his cell phone in hand, put his coat on, and met the man in the road.

  "Hey, buddy, your car not running either?" the guy asked. "Did you see that bright light? That was something!"

  Will was shaking his head. "Nope, mine's dead, too. And yeah, I saw the flash. Any idea what it was?"

  "No idea at all. You reckon it had anything to do with why our cars won't run?" the stranger responded.

  "I think it's too much of a coincidence to think that it didn't," Will said. "Were you heading to Memphis, too? I'm Will, by the way. Will Chambers." He reached out to shake the man's hand.

  "Dennis Heath. Pleased to meet you," he replied, shaking Will's hand. "Yeah, my mom lives in Cordova. I was going to surprise her and take her to breakfast this morning then go with her to church. I guess I'll miss that."

  Will nodded and said, "I was going to surprise my folks as well. They weren't expecting me until later in the week. I should have already been there. That accident threw my schedule off."

  Dennis snorted. "Idiot. Who texts while they're driving, in the middle of the night, in a snow storm?"

  "Is that what happened?" Will asked.

  "Yeah, heard it over the CB radio. The truckers always know." Dennis wrapped his arms across his stomach. "Man, it's cold out here. I better get my jacket," he said, as he started for his car.

  Will walked over with him. "Oh, I should text my sister, let her know I'm going to be even later than I thought I would be an hour ago when I texted her that I was going to be late." He chuckled at himself, then pulled his phone out of his back pocket. He hadn't even thought to look at it until then. He pushed the button to wake it up — but it didn't wake up. He pressed the power button on the side; nothing. "Huh, I'm sure I had a full charge. Great time for my phone to croak."

  Dennis reached into the console of his car. "Here, use mine. I hope you know the number. I don't know anybody's phone number anymore. It's all saved in my contacts." Dennis tried to open his phone with the same results. "Okay, this is just nuts. I know it was working, because I pulled up the weather on it right before …" He stopped, looked at both phones, then Will. "Right before that flash. Holy shit! It took out the cars and cell phones? What could do that?"

  Will's mind was racing. Yeah, what could do that? Even the streetlights are off, that's why it's so dark. Will gasped loudly. The visions! Everything dark, no light … this is it. Whatever it is, this is what I've been seeing!

  "Hey, you okay, buddy?" Dennis asked when he heard Will's sharp intake of breath.

  Will stammered, "Uh, yeah, yeah I'm good. Look, I —" Will was cut off by a strange sound. It was loud and seemed to be heading straight for them. He looked around, trying to find the source. Then, slowly, he looked up. Heading directly toward them was a passenger jet. It looked to be about the size of a 737. It was losing altitude in a drastic descent. Even though it was probably several hundred feet above them, the sheer size made them duck as the plane passed over where they were standing. They turned to watch as it quickly glided to the ground. It exploded upon impact. A huge fireball went up that could be seen for miles.

  "Holy shit! Did you see that? That plane just crashed!" Dennis exclaimed.

  This is bad. This is real bad. "I gotta get home. So, what are you gonna do, Dennis?" Will asked.

  Dennis was zipping his coat up and flipped the hood over his head. He turned to Will as he put it on. "What do you mean?"

  Will looked around and replied, "Well, I don't know what this is but I do know it's nothing good. I don't see these cars magically coming back on. Hell, planes are falling out of the sky. I think I'm going to put on my warmest clothes, lined boots, and start walking toward Memphis. We're about ten miles from the exit to my parents' house, then it's another four or five out to their place. I should be able to walk that. I just wish I had some food with me, maybe a couple of bottles of water. I haven't stopped in over a hundred miles. Whatever this is, I need to be with my family. I'm heading out now. You're welcome to walk with me if you want."

  Dennis shook his head. "I don't think I can do that. You might have noticed I'm a tad overweight." Dennis rubbed his hand across his extended stomach. "Plus, I only have these loafers with me. I wasn't planning on staying overnight. I just live in Jackson, so Memphis is an easy day trip for me. I better stay here, see if the highway patrol comes through and can give me a jump or get a tow truck out here. But hey, I've got some extra bottles of water you can have. I always bring Mom a case when I come in. She doesn't drink enough water so that's my not-so-subtle hint to her." He reached into the back seat and came back with four bottles which he held out to Will.

  Will hesitated. "Dennis, I don't think the state troopers are going to be coming. If our cars don't run, theirs won't either. That flash lit up the whole sky, so it had to be big, meaning this thing is probably pretty widespread. I really think you should try to come with me. It's well below freezing now, and it's not supposed to get much warmer today, at least that's what the forecasters were saying last night before I left. You could die out here with no heat, no food, nothing but water."

  "Well, I'm gonna have to take my chances. Like I said, I'm in no shape to walk to my mom's, especially in these shoes," he said, holding up an expensive leather loafer. "But, you should get going. It's going to take you a few hours to get home. Take these bottles, please." He pushed the water bottles into Will's hands.

  Will took them with a
"thank you" and went to the back of his SUV. He pulled out a backpack he carried for work. It contained towels, guitar picks, extra strings, a couple of clean shirts, a half-dozen protein bars for when he missed eating before the show, and a few half-empty bottles of water. There was also a small penlight he used on stage if he needed to find something during a show so as not to distract the audience. It was nowhere near full, even with all of that in it. He dumped everything out then started putting things back in with the help of the small flashlight. The towels and shirts went first. He consolidated the water into one full bottle, and added the four Dennis had given him, along with all but two of the protein bars, which he stuck in his coat pocket. He opened his duffel bag and pulled out a sweatshirt and long underwear. Taking off his jacket, he put the sweatshirt on over the flannel shirt and t-shirt he was wearing, then put his coat back on. Sitting on the bumper, he pulled off the tennis shoes he had on. Looking around and not seeing anyone else in the area, he slipped off his jeans and put on a pair of thermal underwear bottoms. After putting his jeans back on, he donned wool socks and his thick winter boots, lacing them up over the bottom of his jeans. He tied the strings together on the sneakers and hung them from one of the backpack straps. Dennis watched in amazement.

  "Man, were you expecting a blizzard or something? You know they're usually wrong when they say it's gonna snow around here." He looked at the road and the snow covering his feet, still falling pretty heavily. "Course, looks like they got it right this time."

  Will had added two pairs of socks to his bag and donned a knit cap and gloves. "I actually live in the Smoky Mountains. I work in Pigeon Forge. We get a good bit of snow up there at times, so I try to keep clothes in here that I might need if I get caught out in a storm. Nothing you could live outside forever in, but enough to get me home if I need it. When I heard them calling for a winter storm, I made sure I had this stuff with me. After what's happened, I'm really glad I did."