Post Grid: An Arizona EMP Adventure

by Tony Martineau

  ****

  Kelly woke when it was not yet dawn. Somehow she had turned over in the night and now Jared was behind her, with his bad arm draped over her. She dared not move unless she hurt him or startled him, which could be dangerous given their close proximity. It was still cold. The physical closeness evoked memories of a happier time. She lay there fantasizing that they were lovers lost in each other's arms. It wasn't hard to imagine.

  Jared's breathing changed from the slow, deep, steady breathing of someone asleep, to the shallow, quicker pace of someone who is awake, or at least on the verge of being awake, but he did not move or speak. Kelly lay there for a few more minutes before she felt Jared stir.

  “How's your shoulder?” she asked him quietly.

  “Stiff.”

  “That doesn't surprise me. Hurt much?”

  “Yeah, some. I think I slept on it wrong, but I needed the sleep. I can manage.”

  Kelly eased her way out of the sleeping bag, pulling her coat over her shoulders.

  “Ugh,” Jared groaned softly.

  “Sorry, I was trying to be gentle.”

  “It's not your fault.”

  Jared lay in the sleeping bag for another few minutes, but then nature called. Kelly knew that relieving himself was going to be a challenge—not to mention painful—but she also knew Jared wasn't about to ask for help. Kelly watched out of the corner of her eye as Jared struggled out of the sleeping bag and made his way to the edge of camp.

  A few minutes passed. Jared called back, “I'm sorry to have to ask, but...” As Kelly got closer, she could see his difficulty. He had managed everything except re-buttoning his pants. She modestly lent a hand.

  Jared said softly, “I really appreciate everything you're doing for me.”

  “I'm a nurse, remember? I've done this for many people.”

  “No, I mean it.” Jared reached out with his good arm and touched her sleeve. “I couldn't make it without you. Your husband is a lucky man.”

  “I'm not married.”

  “I just assumed... you're wearing a ring.”

  “That's just for show, it's easier. I've never been married. Came close once. You?”

  “Me? No. Haven't found the right girl yet,” Jared said, averting his gaze.

  “Come on, you're in bad shape and we can talk while we ride. I've got to get us to Sunflower.”

  The two walked back to camp. Breakfast was quick and cold, a couple more granola bars and some soda, which had cooled considerably since yesterday. Kelly and Jared both stole little glances at each other as they ate.

  “Breakfast of champions,” Kelly said as she packed up the bedding. The horses were offered a small drink before the picket line was dismantled. Everything was ready to go except for getting Jared on his horse.

  Jared could do little to help himself. Kelly pulled Pokey near a fallen tree and tied him there. She helped Jared step up onto a tree trunk that was propped up on a large rock. The trunk gave a little under his weight, but did not break. Kelly held out her hand and Jared used his good arm to steady himself. He inched his way up the trunk until he was tall enough to reach the stirrup. He threw himself over Pokey and landed with a thud, but was safely perched. Pokey let out a whinny while taking a couple of steps backward, as if to protest the mount.

  “We only have three hours left, if I've calculated it right. Sunflower is roughly at mile marker 220.”

  There was plenty of time to talk on their journey. Kelly noticed that speaking with Jared seemed to ease his pain, or at least distract him. Jared had to be coerced to tell her all about his day and night in Fountain Hills after the power had gone out. He told her about getting back to the sheriff's station and how he and three other deputies had decided to patrol on foot. The officers hid the weapons and ammunition from the substation that weren't being used, so they wouldn't fall into unfriendly hands. He told her about being out on patrol and how he got shot.

  “I knew I couldn't carry much and needed to get to a hospital. I did the only thing I could think of, walk.”

  The country got more mountainous as they progressed. It wasn't long until they had to use the shoulder of the road. They rode more swiftly when passing people. Kelly scanned everyone as if they might try to overtake them for their food and water.

  “Jared, you see that?”

  “What?”

  “That woman, I think she's got some kids with her,” Kelly strained to see the figure far up the road.

  “Wow, looks like two kids, maybe three and five years old. That sucks. Are we going to pass them up too?”

  “I don't think I can. What should we do?”

  “I'm glad to hear you say that. I'm still struggling with this self-preservation versus helping people stuff. My mind says one thing, but my heart says another.”

  “Mine too. My mom's house is within reach with the water we would have left, if nothing happens.” Kelly said those last three words much more quietly than the rest of her sentence. “I'm gonna stop.”

  ****

  “They looked bad already and it's only been two days,” said Kelly as they rode on. “Can you believe that mom was just camping, waiting for help?” asked Kelly.

  “Sure, someone always comes and helps. Haven't you seen the roadside assistance commercials or the National Guard ones? Someone has always come before; why shouldn't she expect that now?”

  “You're right, but I'm afraid help's not coming this time. We haven't seen it yet.”

  “That was a nice thing you did back there,” said Jared.

  “Thanks, but I doubt they can make it back to town or survive out here unless they get more water than those three dirty water bottles we found along the side of the road. Those two granola bars I gave them won't last long either.”

  “It's all you had.”

  “I know it's all we had.” Kelly used the plural as if somehow they had agreed to give away the last bit of food. “I feel like I have multiple personality disorder.”

  Kelly struggled with her thoughts. We will find out very shortly if we can afford multiple personality disorder. Fate is going to dictate charity or survival.

  ****

  They hadn't been back on the road more than an hour when Kelly pulled on the reins to stop Hokey. The horse stopped, but pulled her head forward as if to protest the pressure on the bit.

  “Look up there. Do you see that dude in the middle of the road?” Pokey came to a stop behind Hokey without any direction from Jared.

  “He's pretty bold for being on the road two days from the blackout. I think I should ride ahead,” said Kelly. “Something doesn't feel right about this guy. No one else has been walking down the center line; it's just too hot on the asphalt.”

  “Could be nothing, but I think we should stay together.”

  “If he sees you're hurt, he could think he has the upper hand,” argued Kelly. “I can protect myself better than I can protect both of us.”

  There was no arguing with that.

  Kelly picked up the pace, leaving Jared to fall behind. He didn't close the gap. She reached down and felt the stock of the AR-15 concealed in the jeans scabbard. She wanted to make sure she could brandish it quickly if needed. She reached up and felt the grip of the Ruger too.

  Hokey walked toward the man without any heightened sense of alertness. Kelly thought this was a good sign, although she couldn't tell herself why. She was, after all, just a horse.

  “Good day,” Kelly offered from atop her mount when she was about twenty feet from the figure.

  The tall stranger smiled, but didn't say anything back. It was an odd smile. The kind of smile an actor used in the movies, just before he killed someone, thought Kelly.

  “Where you headed?” Stupid question, Kelly thought to herself. The only place he could be going is town.

  “Have any water?” the stranger finally asked.

  “Just enough for me and my friend here to make it to Payson,” she said, motioning back toward Jared. She didn't want to t
ip her hand by saying she was going to Sunflower. “There was water in the spring back just a few miles in Sunflower, if you need some.”

  “I'd rather have yours,” the man said, pulling a pistol from his waistband at the small of his back.

  Already on high alert, Kelly's training kicked in. Her magnum roared to life the same instant that it cleared the holster. The bullet found its mark, center of mass, followed a split second later by another round. Hokey reared and twisted, forcing Kelly to hang onto the saddle horn. The man crumpled in the street, dropping his pistol. Kelly scanned the desert, terrified that the man might have an accomplice, maybe even more than one. She yanked the AR-15 from its scabbard and brandished it in case others were watching. Jared rode slowly to Kelly's side while trying to hold Hokey's reins in his left hand and his Kimber .45 in his right.

  “I'll get his gun,” said Kelly, trembling as she stowed the AR and slid down from her mount.

  “Make sure he doesn't have any more guns on him,” said Jared. “I'll cover you.” His pistol wavered unsteadily.

  Her .357 pointing toward the stranger, she picked up the Smith and Wesson MP lying a few feet from his sprawled form and stuck it in her back pocket. He was still breathing. His hands were empty.

  “Do you have any more weapons?” Kelly demanded, voice quavering. There was no response, just a dull stare. Forcing herself to move, she advanced to the bandit's side. She recognized the emaciated frame and splotchy, weeping skin as that of a meth user. This was something Kelly had only seen in civilian nursing. Keeping her pistol drawn, she reached toward him, but couldn't bring herself to touch him or his bloody clothes. A boot made contact with his side and she gave a nudge, trying to see if any guns were secreted in his waistband. The gesture didn't move him much.

  “You can do better than that,” Jared said with all of the conviction he could muster. “Your life and mine depends on it, Kelly. Get him rolled over!”

  Kelly finally put her boot under his flank and gave it a good shove this time. The body rolled face down onto the asphalt. Kelly tapped around his waistband with her foot. “He doesn't have anything else on him.”

  “He was a walking dead man before you shot him, Kelly,” Jared said gently. “Meth addicts are zombies.”

  “I've never killed anyone before. I'm a nurse, remember? I have to watch people die when other people have hurt them, but I never thought I'd kill someone after I left the Service.” Her voice was almost inaudible. She stared blankly at Jared.

  “I'm sorry,” he said empathetically. “It needed doing, though. The other night, I tried to give someone the benefit of the doubt and look where it got me. Come on, let's get out of here.”

  Chapter 4

  “What are you doing with that radiation badge, Rich?” Emma Wise asked her neighbor incredulously. Rich waved the small plastic disc in the air by its metal clip as the two stood on the porch of Emma's adobe ranch house. Rich was just under six feet tall and of average build. His light red hair was now as much grey as red, after more than sixty years of living.

  “I'm trying to see if there is any radioactive fallout,” he said.

  “Fallout? Don't you think we'd know if there had been a nuclear attack? You know, the mushroom cloud, roaring winds, stuff like that?” Emma asked casually.

  Emma stood about five feet four inches. Her cowboy boots gave her a little extra height. Old West cowboys would have called her a handsome woman. Her good proportions came from physical labor, not a gym, and were well displayed by her Wrangler jeans and short-sleeved western shirt. Emma was just a little younger than Rich, but in the same ballpark.

  “You'd see that only if it were a full-scale ground attack,” said Rich. Before he could continue, a noise from the driveway caught his attention.

  Emma heard it too. They both stared down the road.

  About a quarter mile away, two middle-aged men wearing dark blue BDUs with bright, hunter-orange t-shirts and blue boonie hats came into view. They hiked up the driveway. Behind them were a teenage boy and girl. The teens wore bright-orange shirts and woodland camouflage BDU pants. They all carried backpacks.

  “Who on earth are those people?” Emma asked, not really expecting Rich to have an answer. She walked to the porch rail.

  “I don't see any guns,” Rich said as he moved nearer Emma's shotgun, propped near the front door.

  The first man waved, leading the others up the driveway.

  “Hold on—just one of you come up,” Rich called.

  The first man continued to the porch. The others looked around, confused.

  “Good afternoon, chaplain—or do you prefer rabbi?” Emma asked respectfully.

  “Either, but I prefer Dennis, Dennis Rabbinowitz. I'm guessing you were in the military, ma'am.” Dennis tapped the silver Star of David and ten commandment tablets pin above the bronze oak leaf on his hat.

  “I'm Emma Wise. Yes, I nursed in the Navy. This fellow is my neighbor, Rich. You folks look like the proverbial lost patrol.”

  “How right you are. We were on a practice search-and-rescue mission for Civil Air Patrol,” Dennis said.

  “What is Civil Air Patrol?” Rich asked.

  “It's the US Air Force Auxiliary,” Dennis explained. “We search for downed aircraft. Our teenagers are cadets, like junior ROTC. We're a ground team for this weekend's search-and-rescue exercise.”

  “Come on up, folks.” Emma waved to the others.

  “This is my daughter, Lynn,” Dennis said. “That's Jose Herrero and his son, Jess. We were hoping you had a working phone. Our truck and all of our electronics seem to have stopped working. No one came looking for us.”

  “Dennis, our phones are working just as well as yours,” Emma said. “All of our electrical stuff is out too.”

  “That's what we were afraid of,” Jose said. “We think it might be some kind of solar storm.”

  “Or an EMP—you know, electromagnetic pulse,” Rich said. “I think that a nuclear device was detonated high in the atmosphere, knocking out most electrical equipment for good.”

  Everyone, including Emma, looked at him, brows furrowed as if trying to grasp what he had just said.

  Rich continued, “Solar flares only affect objects that are plugged in. During an EMP attack, a high nuclear blast, the whole ionosphere is charged. Macro and micro circuitry, plugged in or not, fry.” Rich's eyes grew big and he threw both hands up in the air. “POOF!”

  Lynn jumped back, then shot a worried look at her father. Jess let out a humph of disbelief and rolled his eyes the way teenagers do when they think their elders are wrong. “There were no mushroom clouds. Everything looks normal.”

  “The bomb was set off too high in the atmosphere for us to see all that,” said Rich resolutely. For all we know, it covers most of the United States.”

  “I had hoped it wasn't an EMP,” Dennis said. “To my mind, that is the most devastating possibility.”

  “Is that a dosimeter?” Jose pointed to the radiation badge in Rich's hand.

  “Yes, but there's no color change, so no high radiation level,” answered Rich.

  “I wish we had a survey meter to see what the radiation levels are and to see if they are rising, declining or staying the same,” said Jose.

  “Shouldn't we have a Geiger counter for that?” asked Emma.

  “Same thing, ol' woman,” Rich said endearingly. “The solar flare, or whatever this is, might break the meter because it's electronic too. As long as the badge stays the same color, we're fine.”

  Lynn's eyes widened. She looked quickly between Rich and her father. “What is he saying? What are we going to do?”

  “Don't worry, I'll take care of you,” said Dennis, drawing his daughter close to him. “We'll have to take this one step at a time.”

  Lynn melted into her father's arms. “Does this mean the world is ending?”

  “No, of course not,” Dennis answered unconvincingly.

  Jess addressed his father sharply. “No way!”

>   Jose looked at his boots, then back at Jess. “I'm afraid it could be an EMP or solar flare. That would explain what's going on around here, but I think Rich is right. We can't jump to conclusions.”

  “What about Mom?”

  Jose shrugged his shoulders. “I don't know. She's in Iowa, out on the farm with your aunt and uncle. If they are without power, everyone there could manage for quite a while.”

  Rich, after seeing Lynn's reaction, said, “Maybe we shouldn't hang our hats on the EMP hypothesis one hundred percent. Our minds could be playing tricks on us, or it could be something we haven't even thought of.”

  “I'm sure we'll get more information over the next few days. Stay here and have lunch. Then you can work out what to do,” said Emma. “Lynn, you remind me of my daughter, Kelly, when she was in junior ROTC in high school. She went on to Navy ROTC and nursing school at the University of Arizona. She lives in Mesa now. I hope everything is alright there.”

  “Emma is right,” Dennis said. “We have camping gear. We'll be alright for awhile. Relief should be flooding into the cities shortly. We have time.”

  “May I use your restroom, ma'am?” Jess asked.

  “Well, actually, no,” Emma said. “Our water comes from a well with an electric pump that Rich and I share. No power means no water. We have some left in the tank, but that's for us to drink. Conservation is the name of the game right now—no flushing. We will build a latrine away from the house. For now, take a shovel from the barn and dig a cat hole over there to the south somewhere. Please use as little toilet paper as you can. It's in the bathroom.”

  “Do you have another source of water?” asked Jose.

  “Just the trickle of water in the creek,” Rich said. “That leaves us trying to collect enough water for our use, plus watering the horses, chickens and rabbits. It's a bit of a haul up to the houses too. Our gardens won't last long.”