Emp Pitch Black

by Above Average Joe

  live without air for three minutes;

  live without shelter for three hours;

  live without water for three days; and,

  live without food for three weeks.

  The sudden feel of intellectual enlightenment just came in to context without warning. Just to keep me at bay, I got my notebook and wrote the rules of fours so that I will not forget it. The rules that I have formulated will be basis for my “to do” list in breaking down a seemingly large cake of puzzles into bits and pieces. I just want the both us to deal with each of these opposing challenges and problems one step and one day at a time. My list has gone from short to kilometric. Good thing that I have enough supply of notebook paper for me to write on. I break everything down to brackets and elements instead of handling one enormous problem all at once. Come on! I am no Superman! I cut and narrowed it down by starting to pose questions on my intentions to keep things easy to track. Questions like, how do I maintain air supply? Is our house strong enough? Do we have adequate water supplies as well as flood supplies? After having a clear view of what I must do, my “to do” list became clearer and more concise.

  Expectation is better than anticipation and I am no Nostradamous. But definitively, there will be no electricity, no running water, no gas or propane, no technology. Any human advancement is eventually worthless. Dimmed lights, elevators falling in full speed, traffic lights’ dead, transportation derailed and paralyzed, communications shutdown, no government, no law and order everything is just chaos as more and more people are greatly zombified everyday just to fit in the desire of surviving it all. This is eventually going to happen and that is why I spend time to logically and at the same time scientifically prepare for the worse. Thanks to the twenty minute tree house meditation. It helped me a lot. The objective is to survive using the available assets and to maximize every bit of it to succeed. Food supplies is going to be scarce soon leaving us with no choice but to ake use of other alternatives or engage in “barter,” the only commercial activity recognized for now because money ceases to be a legal tender.

  May be a walk around the farm would help me ease the burden by keeping me more relaxed and composed. Who knows, my neurons might be motivated to spark more strides of brain power to help me in my decision making. And so, I put my notebook and pen back into my pockets. I jumped from the branch were I was sitting on to the tree house’s balcony. One…two… three! I jumped and settled with a strong stud sound as my Caterpillar farm shoes collided with the balcony’s floor. The tree house is sturdy indeed because it did not falter despite my eighty inch jump. I place my grip to the wooden stairs that is firmly attached on the tree’s mighty trunk. Slowly but surely I took my time ignoring my sudden fear of falling. I hate “going down” sessions because it gives me Goosebumps of vertigo effect. The squeaking sound of the wooden stairway made me paused in the balance fearing that it might fall off dragging me down to the ground from a long eighteen feet climb. I tested the strength of the wooden staircase. The doubtful weakening sound of it makes my feet shiver. I never realized that I am afraid of heights. The rust nails fastened in the 2x2 wooden steps is only four and a half inches long; my feet can’t either get a proper hold.

  Why is this happening? If I did not encounter this problem while I am on my way up, why now? Am I getting weaker emotionally? “No,” I said. “This is just a state of mind.” I increase the strength of my foot hold as my shivering feet alternatively adding negative effects of anxiety and fear of falling. I let go of my right feet to step on the next foot hold but the adjuster of my holster got stuck in between the foot hold making it into a pure tough lock and because of this, I cannot move on further.

  I settled to remove to have myself unstrapped from my holster’s grip. I cannot reach for the harness lock as it is the one that is stuck, I tried to reach for the harness lock but I can’t. It is stuffed in deep that is hard for my fingers to reach. Sweat dripping from my scalp to my face, an indication that exhaustion is becoming a factor. I am literally suspended in mid-air holding on to the tiny, age old foot hold. I push myself up to loosen the stuck up harness but my strides of strength is constantly pulled off down by the opposite --- gravity. My hold is getting weaker each minute. I have to act faster and I mean fast. I wiped away the sweat that tickled my face preventing it to penetrate my eyes again. I want to scream for help but I know Farah cannot hear me. My voice is not that audible to conquer the distance my sound will travel. I have to do this on my own.

  I just want to survive this test but do I have the balls to surpass it? Oh, wait, I s this destiny’s warm up survival test? What a great motivational factor to start with. Turning this grueling situation of mixes between acrophobia and survival instincts is certainly too hard to mingle but do I have a choice? I looked up the sky just to see the sun, almost at a ninety degrees location. It’s almost noon. I have to utilize primitive sun dial time reading as I have no watch. I am hanging here for almost thirty minutes now still pondering on what particular survival diversion I must do. Fear is in me but I just viewed everything as a part of a funny test organized by destiny. If this is my fate, so be it. I will face it.

  I tried to hang loose and put my entire weight on my lower extremities hoping that my weight could pull the wooden foot hold loose. No, I won’t and I will not. I am on high altitude to do it and should I fall, I will be landing on my back with hard gravel, bricks and broken cement on the surface. Judging from my own perspective, broken bones will surely be my ending or worse a spinal injury that could turn me into a vegetable. I cannot afford to be a useless. It would be better to die that to be a liability. Worse, hospitals and infirmaries all throughout Missouri and of all America on a shutdown so there is no way for any medical intervention to happen. I must do this on my own.

  I tried to pull off the harness from the foot hold but it’s too durable for any human hand to conquer. I wiped the sweat of my face by the back of my left hand to have a clear grip. The situation is slowly suppressing my chances for survival but I cannot just wait for help to come. No, waiting for someone to help me is certainly an act of cowardice which is not worth of any recognition. This is survival mode and I have to have a Houdini tactic to get free. This is just a game, a simulation gritted in a real situation. I unzip the storage pocket of my holster and browsed to every item that I can find. All I have is my aluminum frame reading glasses. I took it by my left hand. Now is the time to improvise.

  With no choice, I broke the aluminum frame of my reading glasses to expose it. The it is, the I have the glass, left eye glass in my hand while I put the remaining half of it back to my holster as a reserve. I banged the left eye glass against the trunk of the tree hoping to create a sharp edge like a knife. A buzzing sound hits my ear so I turned my head looking what it is. A group of large bees! Honey bees in yellow stripes heading my way! I must have disturbed them when a jumped from the trees branch to the balcony of the tree house. I stayed still, hoping that they will bypass me. One stings me on my hand. The pain is so excruciating causing the newly sharpened eye glass to fall off to the ground. I reached to my holster storage to get the other reserve. I have to do it fast. I slowly reached for the remaining eye glass. I have to break it in one smash and yes, the odds favored me. I have two sharp edge cutting tool to cut the holster’s harness loose.

  Stings of bees multiplied as little by little they swarmed on me thinking that I am their predator. My thin unprotected clothes made my skin more susceptible to the stings but I don’t care. I will deal with the pain later. Vigorously slicing the harness using the broken piece of my glasses is the perfect initiative done under pressure. Strands coming from the polyester harness fall off indicating a tare which is getting bigger and bigger each time I slice. My thrusting motion became more and more desperate as the sting is bugging me hard. I finally cut the harness loose. There is no time to waste but I don’t want to jump. I took on the foot holds in a flash in a left right - right left pattern for safety. My hands and feet function smooth
ly. It was the fastest down stride KI have ever done! The bees presence must have taught me to overcome my fear or is it just adrenaline?

  The bees’ untimely attack minimized as I get closer to the ground. I finally reached the earth and immediately ran for cover. KI ran inside the barn to check myself up. Sting pains cramp me up but it was good enough that I was not attacked on the face. Just a minor group sting wounds with a mix of ointments and antibiotics and I’m okay. I dust my pants off and went back to the house but before I walk back, I looked back in the tree house and showed the thumbs up sign. Yeah! I survived!” I acclaimed.

  Farah’s face was in a complete shock. It was a mix of anxious emotions rolled into one. I just sat on our sofa just to ease things up a bit.

  “Yeah, don’t say a word. I was attacked by honey bees when I was up the tree house.” I said in anticipation.

  “Huh? Why?…. How? What are you doing there?” Farah asks.

  “I just went up there to take a breather, a breeze of fresh air while I am making my to do list.” I explained.

  “Okay hold on, I’ll get some first aid.” Farah hurriedly gets the first aid meds. “Remove your shirt and lay yourself on a prone position so I could dress your wounds. Good thing that the bees are kind enough of not stinging your nose.” Farah laughed.

  “Yeah, right.” This is nothing. Let’s just say that I have a survival crush course.” Sarcastically I joked.

  Farah dressed my wounds with Isopropyl alcohol, hydrogen peroxide and a few drops of Betadine antiseptic solution to disinfect it. She then applied an anti inflammatory ointment on it and left the wound covered in bandage. She then gave me an antibiotic tablet to prevent infection as well as administering anti tetanus shots on my shoulders. Good thing she has adequate medical training otherwise, I would be in pain by now. Farah told me to rest on the couch to give time for the medicines to take effect.

  “Just stay here. I am going to make a comprehensive inventory of our food supplies.” She said.

  “Okay honey, thank you for this any way.” I replied sealing my gratitude with a fast smack on her lips.

  She proceeded to make her inventory of all our food supplies like fruits and vegetables including the not so fresh once for as long as they can be consumed. To prevent molds and further spoiling, Farah dehydrated it and resorted to the process of canning. No preservatives were added to keep it safe and healthy. To assure the safety and cleanliness of our food canning process we applied automatic rotation stacking it up in a linear arrangement; the old ones on the front while the freshest ones are stacked at the back.

  “Farah, honey, I need to go outside. I have to check on something.” I said.

  “Okay! Just make sure that you won’t overdue anything.” Farah replied with a cautious reminder.

  It was already five thirty o’ clock in the afternoon. Evening is almost coming so I have to hurry. I went out to the barn to check on our solar panels and assessed the damage that was caused by the EMP. I made a few repairs like rewiring or should the damage be severe, replacements were done with stocks available. I singlehandedly did the panel replacements and rewiring and in a matter of an hour I am already done with it. Moving on, just to make my time productive, I watered the newly planted trees, the bushes and plants and as soon as my day is done. I went back to the house to have my own piece of rest.

  What a long day it’s been and indeed I have learned a lot. The simultaneous teaser of survival made me realize that we are in a tough situation. It’s between life and death and we are left without a choice and wait for fate to judge us.

  Chapter 6

  Showers off and now I am fresh. Farah’s already gone past asleep ahead of me. The room was dim as the propane gas lamp is in a controlled state. After I have finished changing into sleeping clothes, then that’s the time that I will turn the gas lamp off. I don’t want to leave it illuminated as we are conserving gas consumption so we must use it wisely. I am now bare-chested with just my boxers on. I have to keep my body ventilated allowing much cold breeze to touch my skin knowing that our fans and air conditioner is dead or doing the manual flapping of a piece of board to serve as fan is too exhausting either so I live it as is. I crouched on the bed and laid my back against the soft cushioned water bed beside Farah’s. The pain caused by the bees’ stings a while ago is still aching; thank God it’s already tolerable. I revisit my experience today. The adventure that happened and the mind boggling survival skills challenge that I experienced. Man, I thought that I was on a reality TV show. I smiled a bit kissed Farah goodnight then close my eyes to sleep.

  My sub consciousness brought me into a dark deserted place. Oh, I am now in front of Wallmart. No! I am middle of the City. I just don’t know where it is. Why am I here? What the hell is going on? Streets are deserted with no lights, no life and no color. I am standing at the foot of famous arch so huge that its apex is beyond the reach of my vision. “

  Ah, yes! Is this … I think I know where I am!” I said

  I am in Saint Louis City! But this is not the same Saint Louis I have known. The place is dead and lifeless. My eyes roam around and as I look up, the Gateway Arch is now destroyed and the destruction is so enormous. I look up to see the Gateway Arch ravaged by a category 5 hurricane. I just can’t believe this. I started to walk in the streets of this seemingly war torn place. It’s just like an atomic bomb was dislodged or something because the destruction is so dramatic. I saw a signage; ah, yes, a street sign saying Washington Avenue. I walked and moved forward gazing my eyes to this unusual ghost town and as my feet continued to savor my own walking excursion, I stumbled on something.

  A hand grabbed by right ankles and as I looked down, it was an old black man with familiar facial features. As I look in closely, his face slowly revealed that I met him somewhere. Now I know, this was the red faced man that I punched out cold while Farah and I were panicking for supplies at Mountain View. His face bloodied and gums pale.

  “Help…help…me … please … EMP…EMP… you are going to die! You are going to die!” said the man in a grimacing voice.

  Anxiety mixed with extreme cardiac palpitations made me withdraw my feet against his firm grip and I ran and left him alone. I ran as fast as I can. I head west traversing through The Gateway Arch Trail. The grand view of the Jefferson national memorial flashed into my senses as I look towards my left. The once glamorous park is now dead whose grass is all withered. Everything is covered with dead leaves sending out a dubious scent of decaying biodegradables. I took a left turn shortcut through the Gateway Arch Trail. I know that it is going to be a long walk so I just passed through the serene sites of the trail with trees lined up on the right side of the road. It was dark, dull and lifeless everything in it is horrific. Suddenly, sounds of hideous steps, fast and approaching, my ear can feel the sense of urgency and as I looked back, vicious faces of people are on my trail. One of them was Sheldon, our neighbor.

  “What the hell is he…?” I ran as I can sense that they are chasing me. There are about eight people chasing me and one of them is Sheldon and about three police officers in uniform and the rest are people who I do not know. They were like programmed zombies as their speech sang a song of uniformity saying,

  “Fuse, fuse, fuse…give us your car fuse…”

  They must have figured out that I have some stocks for their paralyzed vehicles but I do not want to give them what they want. I ran faster, past the exit of the Gateway Arch Trail. Sheldon the others are still gaining on me and they are gaining fast. I looked back as their sprints grew by a second making them closer. Sheldon’s eyes are all in white. They are not human, all I know that they are not human. I crossed the weary Memorial Drive until I reached Chestnut Street. I did an easy cross because all the cars are laid flat on the road. The traffic lights seemed to be disoriented as its dimmed lights constantly changes from red, green, yellow and back again for no reason at all. When I look on the trail, I did not Sheldon and the others. They are gone. They must have stopped t
he chase so I walked along Chestnut Street. I carefully held and turned my LED flashlights on and weave it around to guide my steps. I passed by the Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse on the Ground floor of the Hyatt. The building was huge but dead. As I draw in closer to the Steakhouse in search for flood, it suddenly burned itself up. People ran into a stampede bringing with them what they can eat. I turned my flashlights off and ran towards the bushes to hide.

  “This group of people is fighting to the death because of food? What a way to survive.” I said to myself.

  I rubbed my eyes to have a clearer view because my vision is affected by the dim environment as the lights voltage support fluctuated due to the massive and destructive effect of the EMP. As I brushed the leaves of the bush that is camouflaging me, a man with a bonnet and dressed with a leather jacket aimed his gun towards someone and the next thing I saw was that they are shooting at each other. The sound of gun shots echoed for miles and miles away. Blood spilled off from their punctured bodies and unto the ground. The victims that got hit slammed to the cemented pavement while those who reigned victorious moved on to the next stage of survival. There was only one who was left standing --- a lone survivor. After spitting on the faces of his victims, he left.

  As soon as the shooter left, I carefully sneaked into the crime scene. As I walked past the dead bodies, I was held back by a strong grip. Somebody grabbed me by the shoulder. I turned and masterfully did an arm lock then slammed him to the ground.

  “Food….food…I want food….water…water.” Said the man.

  I blinked my eyes so I could see who it is but I could not recognize him. He was definitely gasping for air, he is probably dying from a gunshot wound.

  “Stars falling from the sky, Stars falling from the sky, Stars falling from the sky … beware. The end is here to stay; the end is here to stay the end is here to …”

  The man ceases to speak. He is dead. I covered his eyes and push it to close. What a way die indeed. I hurried to the entrance of the Hyatt skipped past the burned Steak House. It was a dusty ambiance as residues of burned materials flying through the air. The Hyatt was once an iconic structure in Saint Louis but now, it is nothing but a stagnant edifice with no life. I weaved my flashlights through the receiving area. What seemed to be a marble titled floor is now filled with dead bodies ranging from all walks of life piling up. The death toll is so enormous I lost count may be there are a thousand dead bodies in the ground floor alone. The scent of death crept up my nose but I ignored everything. I walked forward to the elevator. I pressed the open button but the fluctuated level of electricity is not enough to open the door. Good thing that I found a three foot round iron bar. Pushing it against the small elevator door opening, I gradually opened the door and to my demise, dead bodies are even piled up. Men, women children now dead, the elevator completely crushed. These poor people must have died to the elevator’s shutdown causing it to fall at full speed turning them into poor sandwich. I know there are several dead bodies scattered on each floor. Yes, there are many granting that the building has 15 or more floors.