He had learned during his prison life to be friendly with other prisoners but not to be friends. The one thing you learn in prison is no one is really your friend. Still, he thought about what maybe some of his fellow prisoners were going through. Could he save some of them? Should he go back? He looked back at the cell block and realized there was nothing he could do.
He laid back on the ground staring at the stars again. Something just wasn’t right. He had to put it together in his mind.
“Ok, there was an emergency warning on TV. The lights went out, and the emergency lighting didn’t come on. A plane crashes, and there are no cars on the road.”
It then hit him. “Is it possible that this is an EMP?”
In prison, you find ways to occupy your mind. Some used the time to get into more trouble. Others used it to improve their mind. That’s the choice Paul made. He had read more books over the last few years than he had his entire life.
One of the things he had read about was an electromagnetic pulse. Even though he was amazed that something like this had apparently happened, he wasn’t really surprised. He could remember what I had taught him about prophecy when he was growing up. He knew that terrible things were going to happen to us and with the way the country was going and what had been taking place worldwide, this was just another step in prophecy coming true.
“I have to get home. But how will dad handle me just showing up? Can I make it all the way to the farm?” These types of thoughts saturated his mind. “I have to try. What do I have to lose? I’m not going to wait around and possibly be transferred to some hell hole where they’ll just lock us up and forget about us.”
He looked at the prison burning and saw no movement. It didn’t look like anyone else had survived.
“How could I have survived? What are the chances of this?”
He said a fast prayer, thanking God for still being alive.
Paul made his decision. It was time to head for the farm. He checked the equipment belt that he got from the guard. It had a radio, which didn’t seem to work. A flashlight, a trauma kit, and a Glock 22 .40 caliber handgun along with two extra magazines.
He knew the first thing he had to do was find some clothes. The orange prison uniform stood out, like a sore thumb. He also needed water, food, and hopefully, he could find a first aid kit to treat some of the minor cuts and scrapes he received. He was fine now, but he knew that he might have to walk all the way to the farm and it would take at least 11-12 days. He estimated the farm was 190 miles away. He knew he could cover 15 miles a day if he didn’t run into any problems.
He didn’t know the area too well, but he’d seen a map from the library. Every prisoner fantasizes about escaping prison. He would’ve never done it seriously under normal conditions, but obviously, this was a whole new ball game.
The city of Vinita Oklahoma was only about 4 miles from the prison. He could hopefully get clothes and supplies there. He knew it was about 40 miles east to the Missouri line. Then it would be straight north for about 145 miles.
He knew the first thing he had to do was to check and see if anyone from the prison needed help. It was a risk as he could be taken back into custody, but his conscience wouldn’t let him just walk away without checking. Besides, maybe he could find some clothes and equipment to take with him.
He strapped on the belt and holster and slowly walked towards the prison area. Even being a couple of hundred yards away, the heat was intense. Scattered parts of the aircraft had spread out for several hundred yards. The main fuselage of the aircraft ended up right on top of the cell area. The way it looked, it must have gone directly through the administration building and then skimmed across the dispensary and stopped right on top of the celled housing area. With the intense flames coming from that area, a wing must have split open as the fire was so hot and intense, the fuel had to be still burning. He could hear pops and minor explosions happening.
The only building that was still intact was the maintenance building along with some storage sheds. As he walked around the administration building, he immediately started vomiting as there was a set of three seats with burning bodies sitting on the ground as though it had been placed there. The idea of the fear these people had to have felt as the plane was coming down and then to die strapped into the seats, was too much for him to handle and seeing bodies burning in place just horrified him. This was a sight that was going to haunt him for a long time. All he could do was pray that these people died on impact and didn’t burn alive.
After emptying everything that was in his stomach, he thought, “Alright, get your shit together. There is nothing you can do for them. They’re gone.”
He had to leave the area. If anyone was alive, he wouldn’t be able to help them, as the flames were spreading, and the heat was too intense.
He made his way to the maintenance building. As he entered, it was pitch black except for the glow from the flames from outside the building. He grabbed the flashlight off the belt. He knew that this time of night, there shouldn’t be anyone in there.
As he moved the beam of light around, he spotted trailers, agriculture equipment that they used on the farm and then spotted a tractor.
“Yes!” A newer John Deere tractor that he had seen them use out in the fields. He jumped into the tractor, but there were no keys.
“Damn!” he yelled out loud. “It probably wouldn’t have run anyway. I have to try though. There has to be a key box around here someplace.”
Using the light, he made his way to the office. Of course, it was locked. He spotted some flat iron and used it to pry open the door.
When he opened the door, it was like hitting the jackpot. Hanging on one of the wall lockers was a guard’s uniform. It wasn’t a typical uniform but more like tactical overalls. Apparently one of the guards that was assigned to the field crews just had his uniform dry cleaned as it was still in the wrapper that the cleaners put them into.
All the wall lockers had locks on them, but he went back out to the shop and found a sledgehammer which he used to break the locks.
In one of the wall lockers, were a pair of boots. They were size 12 which was one size larger than what Paul wore, but he could live with it. In another wall locker, he found a small backpack about the size of a larger student’s book bag. Inside the bag, he found a Zippo lighter along with some lighter fluid and even some flints. He also found a small pocket knife.
On the wall was an industrial size first aid cabinet. He grabbed bandages and Band-Aids, ibuprofen, alcohol pads, several packages of Neosporin, cold and hot packs, and a couple of slings.
Next, he spotted a box type storage bin that had a padlock on it. He used the sledgehammer to knock off the lock and inside was several 2 ½ gallon canteens that they used out in the fields. Of course, there was no water in them, but the canteens were a godsend.
There was also a machete, along with some rope, and a couple of tarps. He grabbed the machete, the rope, and one of the tarps.
He then spotted the key box on the wall. Inside was the John Deere tractor keys. He yelled, “Yes!” and ran over to the John Deere. He stuck the key in it and turned the ignition. Nothing.
“Damn it!” He leaned back in the seat and thought, “Well, it’s going to be a long walk.”
He started going through the tool compartment that was in the cab of the tractor. Besides several tools and bolts, he found an opened pack of beef jerky. He grabbed a piece and ate it. He didn’t realize how hungry he was. He leaned back in the seat with his eyes closed thinking about the long journey he was about to take.
He started feeling pain from his lower left leg. He pulled up his pants leg and found a gash about 4 inches long which apparently happened during the explosion. He looked into the rearview mirror and discovered he had several scratches and minor cuts on his face.
The reality once again hit him what a miracle it was that he had survived.
He went back to the office and cleaned and bandaged his wounds, using the
first aid equipment that he had found. He then changed into the uniform and put on the boots. It had been a long time since he wore a pair of boots.
He sat there making his plans and realizing the first thing he had to find was water and hopefully more food. He thought how it was a shame how the facilities canteen was on fire as well. The canteen was where prisoners could buy extra food, usually once a week. He could’ve gotten all the food he needed.
He grabbed his gear and walked out the door. He felt like a different person wearing something other than the prison jumpsuits that he’d been wearing for so long.
He took another look at the prison facility. If anything, the fires had seemed to intensify.
He looked east towards the road and spotted the parking lot where employees parked their vehicles. “I didn’t think about the cars.” He knew he probably wouldn’t be able to find a vehicle that would run, but he may be able to find more supplies for his trip. He went back in and grabbed the sledgehammer and pry bar that was in the shop.
As he was approaching the cars in the parking lot, another huge explosion from behind him threw him to the ground. Flaming debris flew through the air, and once again he could feel the intense heat.
As he picked himself up, he looked back, and a flame of fire was coming from the prison jail area. Obviously, a gas line had exploded and was fueling the flame. Secondary explosions were throwing flaming shrapnel through the air. It reminded him of movies he had seen where a volcano was erupting and throwing fireballs and debris through the air.
“It’s time to get the hell out of here. To hell with the cars.” He then ran back to the hillside where he stopped and took one last look at the inferno. Being so dark, the view looked a lot like a scene from some war movie.
As he walked east down the road, the idea of being free seemed like a dream. Paul’s mind was still processing everything that had happened. There is no way that he should’ve survived. It had to be for some reason.
The idea of so many dying and there was nothing he could do to help, gave him a sense of guilt. “How many people were on the plane? What would it be like, flying along and then everything would just go black? What went through the pilot’s mind? Not only would the plane just quit but not having any lights on the ground as a reference. Did the pilots even know they were about to hit the ground?” All these thoughts bombarded him.
For now, he had to put it aside. He had to make it to the farm. This was his chance to change his life. God had to have had a hand in this. All he knew was for however long he was free, he was going to change his life.
Now being away from the prison and the lights of the fires, he couldn’t believe how dark it could be without artificial light. The stars were so brilliant that he could see constellations and stars that he had never seen before.
As he would reach hilltops, he could see the fires off in the distance. “Were there other planes that had gone down?” He wondered.
Paul found himself approaching an overpass. You would be surprised how hard it is to tell where you are without street lights or headlights. It was hard enough having to use his memory of the maps he had studied of the area when he was just burning time and fantasizing about what he’d do if he ever escaped.
As he walked by the road signs, he used his flashlight to make sure he was approaching the right road.
One mile to Vinita. He had decided to avoid towns as much as possible, but he needed supplies. Vinita wasn’t that big, so he didn’t worry too much about taking the chance. His only worry was to make sure that someone that worked at the prison wouldn’t recognize him. He knew he had to get different clothes.
As he started walking east, he could hear voices. At first, it startled him, and he almost took cover, but then he realized that he couldn’t act like a prisoner. He had to mentally go back to before he was an idiot and got all screwed up on drugs and tried to rob the pharmacy.
“Get yourself together. You’re a guard at the prison. Just go with the flow.” Then it hit him, “Why would a guard be walking around with a machete?” He tossed it to the side of the road. He was keeping the bag and one of the canteens. He’d need all those items.
He took the chance and approached the voices.
“Hello, he called out.”
The voices stopped briefly then responded, “Hi!”
As he approached, he walked by two stalled cars. He then could see a group of people standing around another car.
On this road, he expected to see more vehicles, but then remembered what the price of gas was. The last report he had heard on the news, gas in the area had reached $17.50 a gallon.
“Are you folks doing ok?” He asked.
“Yeah, we’re alright. We’re just trying to figure out what’s going on. Did your car die also?” they asked.
“Yeah, about a ½ mile back. I was trying to find some help. I work at the prison, and an airliner crashed and hit the prison. It seems I was the only one that survived. Do any of you have a phone that’s working? I left mine at home today and had no way of calling for help.” Paul said in a panicked type voice. He was amazed at himself for being able to play the part so well. He hoped he was playing it well anyway.
“Oh my God! Everyone died? Are you sure? Is it possible that some of the prisoners could’ve escaped?” A woman asked with panic in her voice.
“I checked the entire area. One of the engines landed right on the cell area and exploded. I couldn’t find anyone. The heat was so intense I couldn’t get close enough to check very well.”
“Damn it!” he said to himself. He just realized that he said his car quit down the road. He realized that his story didn’t make sense. His so-called car wouldn’t have started for him to drive.
A man said, “We heard a couple of explosions from that area. It was really loud. That glow in the sky must be from the fire. Are you alright?”
“Uh yeah. I have some cuts and scrapes.”
Another woman started crying, “What is going on? Cars are quitting. Planes are crashing, and there are no street lights. It’s like everything is dead.”
Paul considered bringing up his belief that it was an EMP but decided it would be better just to act completely confused.
“I don’t know, but I have to go find help. Do you folks need anything before I go?”
The man responded, “No, we’re just going to walk to town together. Do you want to walk with us?”
“I’ll be running most of the way. I need to get some help out to the prison if it’s possible. You folks be careful.”
“Ok. Good luck.”
Paul took off at a running pace toward Vinita.
“You, stupid son of a bitch. Things like that are going to get you caught. THINK in the future.” He just hoped that the people wouldn’t put together the hole in his story. He just hoped they were too shaken up to think straight.
“I have to avoid people as much as possible. I’ll just say, I have to go find help when I see anyone else.”
After running out of sight of the other people, he started walking as the wound on his leg was really starting to hurt. He then saw the beam of a flashlight ahead of him. He could see that whoever it was seemed to be looking at the engine of a pickup. It was amazing what he could make out at a distance. The flashlight’s beam stood out and highlighted everything it was pointed at.
As he got within a hundred yards or so of the truck, he heard a man say, “I can’t figure it out. Let’s just walk to town.” He heard what sounded like the hood being slammed shut and saw the beam from the flashlight start moving towards Vinita.
Paul decided to keep walking but slow enough he wouldn’t catch up with them. Without acting suspicious, he had to avoid as many people as possible until he got completely out of the area.
As he approached the city limits of Vinita, he could see several homes lit by candlelight and lanterns. Most of the businesses were dark, but most of the homes had some kind of dim light. There were a couple of homes that were completely lit
up, and he could hear the sound of small engines. Obviously, some had small generators running.
Being in northeast Oklahoma, many people had to be prepared with alternative light sources. Besides being the heart of a fishing area, which meant several people would have Coleman type lanterns and generators, Oklahoma was also known for severe weather. People were prepared for short-term power outages.
He could also hear more people talking from different directions. It was amazing how many sounds stood out that normally you wouldn’t have heard. Besides the darkness, the absence of everyday noises such as cars, trains, planes, and industry, seemed to amplify voices and the few generators that were working.
As he continued walking, he realized that he was crossing a bridge. He stopped and looked over the side, and he could hear running water. Even though he didn’t want to use his flashlight as he didn’t want to draw attention to himself, he took the chance and shined the flashlight down below the bridge and found one thing he needed. It was a small stream.
“Yes!” he said out loud and was shocked how much his voice carried.
“Shut up idiot,” He told himself.
He made his way down to the stream. He looked around and realized that he was well out of sight, so he used his light to look around the area. He then discovered why he could hear the sound of the water. About 50 yards up the stream was a small waterfall. It looked like a small cement dam that had been built. It looked like it was built for appearances only as it didn’t look big enough to be used for flood control. Either way, he didn’t care. It was a water source.
He put his hand in the water and shined the light onto his hand. The water was clear. He knew that being clear didn’t mean the water didn’t have parasites and such, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Right now, he didn’t have a way or the time to purify the water, so he had to take the chance. He worked his way directly under the bridge and found a flat place to sit. He could tell that it had been used to fish from. He grabbed the canteen and filled it up.
Apocalypse Coming Page 21
