The Defiant: Grid Down

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The Defiant: Grid Down Page 6

by John W. Vance


  “I think something worse than a typical power outage has occurred.”

  “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked.

  “Um, no, I’m good,” he replied, following her into the kitchen.

  From the back den, Frank’s hollering came through the thin walls.

  “Frank, stop trying to call SDG&E and come say hi to Nicholas,” Marjory called out.

  “Who?” Frank asked.

  “Nicholas is here.”

  “One second.”

  “Listen, I think you guys should come home with me. It will be more comfortable for you two. I have plenty of food,” Nicholas offered.

  “We’re not going anywhere,” Frank bellowed as he came into the room. He brushed his thin gray hair to the side with his fingers then tucked his bright green polo shirt into his khaki pants.

  Nicholas and Becky had a running joke that her father must own stock in Izod as he had five of each color of polo shirt.

  Frank walked past Nicholas and opened the refrigerator and took out a jug of orange juice.

  Nicholas took notice of how loose fitting the khakis were on him.

  “Can I make you some lunch?” Marjory asked them.

  “Mom, I’m fine. I need to talk to you about what’s going on,” Nicholas stressed, raising his voice slightly.

  “Don’t tell me, this power outage is the end of the world?” Frank quipped then took a drink of his orange juice.

  “You haven’t been outside, have you?” Nicholas lamented.

  “If you came over here to spread your doomsday scenarios, please spare me,” Frank said, scolding him.

  That comment made Nicholas want to walk out; he had lost patience with people’s attitudes a long time ago. “Dad, this is more than a power outage. Cars aren’t working, my mobile phone and other electronics are dead.”

  “Oh dear,” Marjory said.

  Frank clenched his jaw and said, “I’m sure the president is handling the situation. The power will be back up soon enough. You just gotta have patience. I swear you and the younger generations can’t sit still.”

  “That may be, but Becky wants you two to come home with me. She’s worried about you.”

  “Maybe we should,” Marjory said, looking at Frank.

  Frank cut a look at her and then put his attention back on Nicholas. “We’ll be fine. There’s no need to be an alarmist about these things.”

  “I’m not being an alarmist; something isn’t right.”

  “Listen, son, my parents lived through Pearl Harbor, the Great Depression, World War Two and this isn’t shit.”

  “Frank, please,” Marjory said, shocked by Frank’s attitude.

  “Marj, you know Nic; he’s a bit paranoid.”

  “So I’m taking that as a firm no?” Nicholas asked sarcastically.

  “Wait a moment, Nic,” Marjory said and turned to face Frank. “Stop being so stubborn. You don’t even know what’s going on.”

  “We’ll be fine. I’m not saying what happened wasn’t bad, but it’s not the end of the country.”

  Nicholas watched the two bicker. He imagined this was a common occurrence outside of the times he and Becky witnessed them arguing.

  As they went back and forth, Nicholas looked around the quaint and always extremely clean kitchen. If Marjory was anything, she was organized. Nicholas appreciated that and was thankful that it had worn off on Becky.

  “No, Marjory, we’ll be fine!” Frank barked and broke Nicholas’ wandering thoughts.

  Marjory cringed and sheepishly replied to Frank, “Okay.”

  Nicholas looked at what were decades-old expressions and lines of living with a crass man. His heart tugged for her just then. For an extended second his gaze remained unblinking on her face. A deep vertical line pulled between his brows and he turned towards Frank and gave him a stare that met the man’s bloodshot eyes.

  “Frank…”

  “What?” he asked, sitting the glass on the counter.

  Nicholas could feel his blood boil, but getting angry himself wouldn’t do anything to help the situation. He stopped short of expressing eighteen years of frustration, anger and spite towards the man who was his beloved’s father. “Nothing, it’s nothing.”

  A devilish grin crossed Frank’s wrinkled and leathered face.

  An intense urge to knock Frank’s coffee-stained teeth gripped him, but the realities of doing such a thing was impossible.

  “Marjory, I don’t know how you can contact us, but what I’ll do is stop by every day to check on you two.”

  Frank walked up to Nicholas and said, “You’ll be just wasting your time. We’ll be fine.”

  “Anyway, I’ll try to get over here every day about this time until this clears up. Please feel free to come to our place anytime you need to. Our house is your house.”

  Marjory extended her shaking hand and rubbed Nicholas’ arm. “You’re so sweet, but like Frank said, we’ll be fine.”

  “There’s another reason I’m here,” Nicholas said.

  “Go ahead,” Frank asked.

  “Do you still have that old Dodge Dart?”

  “Yeah, the old girl is out in the garage, why?”

  “I think he loves that hunk of junk more than he loves me,” Marjory joked.

  “She doesn’t give me any lip,” Frank shot back.

  “That rust bucket is a money hole.”

  “It gives me a hobby.”

  “Could I borrow it?” Nicholas interjected loudly over their quibbling.

  Frank narrowed his eyes at Nicholas and paused for an uncomfortable amount of time before saying, “What do you need it for? You have those fancy German cars.”

  “It’s what I’ve been telling you, our cars aren’t working, but I think the Dart might.”

  “Oh, c’mon, Frank, he needs it for his family. Let him borrow the car,” Marjory said.

  Frank’s eyes were still slits, as he wouldn’t stop leering at Nicholas.

  “Frank, can I please use the car?” Nicholas asked.

  “Yeah, sure, let me go get you the keys.”

  Frank exited the kitchen.

  “You sure you don’t want to come with me? Becky would love having you stay over.”

  Hearing this, she gripped his arm firmly. This was her way of silently telling him yes.

  Her eyes gave a different answer than her voice. She loved Frank, but his inability to warm up to people damaged many relationships they’d had over the years.

  Frank swept into the kitchen, holding a rabbit’s-foot keychain with two keys. “Here, don’t put a scratch on it and please bring it back full.”

  Outside, he stood holding his bike and looked back at the condo. A few more elderly people came strolling by, no apparent concern as they walked their dogs, chatting and laughing. A thought struck him; maybe he was too paranoid and this was all going to be remedied? But quickly he dashed that thought. He had become successful because of his gut instincts and street smarts. His experiences of people and the general public told him that if things didn’t get fixed right away, the situation could get out of control. He understood Frank’s insistence that all would be fine, but he also could see the opposite. His entire life he used this broad and open view to formulate how he should conduct himself. From business to his personal life, he always liked to cover all possible contingencies, so while he understood Frank’s position, he also found it foolish, because if Frank was wrong, it could cost him his life. If he was wrong, then he had a lot of cool gear and copious amounts of food and water.

  Nicholas approached the garage door and realized that without power he wasn’t getting in.

  No sooner had he come to this realization than Frank hollered, “I think you’ll need this to get in.” He was holding up another set of keys and promptly walked towards the rear of the detached garage.

  Nicholas followed.

  “I mean it when I said no scratches,” Frank grumbled.

  “Let’s just see if it runs first,” Ni
cholas said as he stepped past Frank into the dark garage. He disengaged the automatic garage door opener and lifted the door.

  Light splashed on Frank’s Chevy Impala, his and Marjory’s primary vehicle, and the Dodge Dart covered in a tan car cover.

  Frank pulled the cover off and folded it up neatly.

  Nicholas was impressed with how mint the car looked. Frank had done wonders in keeping the old car running and in good shape.

  Caressing the front quarter panel, Frank purred, “I’ve had this beauty for a long time. I think I told you, I bought her brand new, only six miles on the odometer when I rolled off the lot with her.”

  “I’ll take good care of it, I promise,” Nicholas said. He meant what he said, but deep down he didn’t know if that would come true.

  The door sounded heavy when Frank opened it. He settled in snugly behind the large steering wheel and inserted the key.

  Nicholas closed his eyes and mumbled a prayer under his breath.

  Frank clicked the ignition forward and pressed the accelerator slightly. The car rumbled and started.

  Nicholas exhaled heavily, looked up and said, “Thank you.”

  “I told you she’d start up,” Frank said proudly, a gleam in his eye.

  “Do you have the keys for the Impala?” Nicholas asked. He was curious if it would start too.

  “You know, come to think of it, why don’t you take it instead?” Frank said, tossing him a set of keys.

  Nicholas got behind the wheel of the 2008 Impala and put the keys in the ignition and again said a prayer. “One, two, three,” he said and turned the key.

  Nothing, it was dead.

  “I knew it!” he said loudly.

  “Impossible, I just took it out yesterday. Get out. You’re doing something wrong,” Frank barked.

  Nicholas happily got out.

  Frank got in and tried several times before yelling at the car, “Goddamn piece of junk. They don’t make cars like they used to.”

  “Frank, this is what I’ve been telling you; most cars aren’t working. I don’t know what would cause that, but that, the power not working, and our cell phones being dead all lead to one thing.”

  “Hmm, there has to be a reasonable explanation.”

  “There is, we’ve been attacked by some weapon.”

  Frank’s jaw tensed as he grinded his teeth.

  “I don’t know if I can let you take the Dart until I can get this started,” Frank said and got out. He popped the trunk and pulled out a set of jumper cables.

  “You’re wasting your time, Frank. Please listen to me.”

  Ignoring Nicholas, Frank mumbled, “I must’ve left a light on. I bet Marj left the overhead on; she does that all the time. Damn fool woman.”

  Shaking his head in disbelief, Nicholas watched Frank unsuccessfully try to jump the Impala.

  A half hour went by watching Frank curse, pound his fist and slam car doors before Nicholas spoke up. “Frank, Dad, please stop. It’s not going to work. Why won’t you listen to me?”

  “Because you’re a damn fool!”

  “I can’t deal with this shit one more second,” Nicholas said, waving his arms in a sign of defeat. He exited the garage and grabbed his bike. He was done; he couldn’t take Frank’s ignorance anymore.

  “Where are you going?” Frank yelled.

  “I’m going home.”

  “I thought you wanted to use the Dodge?”

  “I do, but I don’t want to wait till next week to get it,” Nicholas said with a snarky tone.

  “Take it. Just stop by Auto Zone and pick me up a new battery for the Chevy.”

  Nicholas wanted to slap Frank repeatedly. He couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t listen. As he fumed at Frank, Nicholas took notice of a few cars with their hoods up at a set of detached garages a block away. There was no doubt that whatever happened was widespread, but just how large was the problem? Did it only encompass San Diego or was it statewide? God forbid, he thought, if it was national.

  “Nic, here,” Frank said. He had exited the garage and was standing next to him.

  Lost in his thoughts, Nicholas turned and said, “Look over there.”

  Frank did and said, “Well, I’ll be, looks like others are having car trouble.”

  Nicholas couldn’t help but wonder if Frank’s stubbornness wasn’t senility. He snatched the keys from his hand, got in the Dodge and drove off.

  San Diego, CA

  Once inside, the scene was even more chaotic. One problem was that most of the store was dark save for the little light coming in from the setting sun. For an instant Bryn paused. Going into complete darkness seemed stupid at best, but if this scene was playing out everywhere else, then their opportunity to get food was possibly limited to what was in this store.

  What also scared her was people’s frantic reaction to the outage. She recognized that humans were pack animals and reacted to others in chorus much like a flock of birds do as they fly and turn through the air. For whatever reason, people were in a panic, and that emotion just fed on itself.

  Some inside the store had flashlights. She could see the lights darting around, their beams bouncing off the aisles, ceiling and floor. She’d give anything at the moment to have a light much less something more lethal to carry for protection than her small canister of pepper spray. A strong sensation of vulnerability overcame her because she felt completely unprepared. Everything happening was surreal, and in that moment she had a nagging feeling that she was going to die.

  “Are we going or what?” Sophie asked, urging them to move.

  This question shattered her doubts and propelled her into the store. “Everyone stay together, okay.”

  “But I think we can get more if we separate,” Matt chimed in.

  “Fine, you go, but Sophie, you’re coming with me,” Bryn ordered. Seeing a cart next to one of the checkout counters, she grabbed it and with Sophie next to her went into the darkness.

  Matt took off in the opposite direction. He seemed to know where he was going, but he lacked a cart. Bryn noticed this, but didn’t have time to think about it. All she could do was focus on what she and Sophie needed to do.

  “Do you know where we’re going?” Sophie said loudly to overcome how loud it was inside. Screams, cries and hollering were coming from every direction as people battled for what they could find in the dark.

  “Let’s get canned food,” Bryn blurted out.

  As if on autopilot, she navigated the cart to the aisle where the main bulk of canned foods were located. While her internal sense of direction was good, the trouble came from people and debris. It seemed as if every couple feet they went, someone ran into them or their cart’s wheels hit something on the floor. Their eyes had adjusted to the faint light, but it was still inadequate.

  “I think this is the soup aisle. Grab what you can on the shelves, hurry!” Bryn commanded.

  Sophie obeyed and began to sweep up what cans she could feel on the shelves and tossed them into the cart.

  Bryn followed and scooped up whatever she felt without regard for what it was. She just hoped it wasn’t can after can of chicken broth. Surprising to her, there were still a good number of cans, so within ten minutes they had filled up the cart.

  “Matt!” she hollered out.

  “Let’s get more!” Sophie barked and took off towards the entrance to find another cart.

  “Sophie, no!” Bryn screamed; fear that something would happen to her filled her mind. “Sophie, come back, now!”

  It was too late; she was gone.

  Bryn stood, peering out, hoping she would catch a glimpse of her. She thought about following, but she didn’t know exactly where she went.

  “Sophie, Matt!” she called out, but no reply came. All she heard were the steady grumblings and screaming from others in the store.

  “Help, Bryn, help!” echoed in the store.

  With no concern for the food they had just gathered, Bryn ran in the direction of Sophie’s sc
reaming.

  “Help!”

  Bryn frantically ran but couldn’t find her. The last time she heard her cry it was close.

  “Help!”

  Bryn saw a commotion on the floor and connected that it must be her. She ran over and saw a man on top of Sophie. Not hesitating to react, Bryn jumped on the man’s back and began to choke him.

  “Get off of her!” Bryn barked.

  The man reached back in an attempt to grab Bryn, but she wouldn’t let go. Suddenly, one of his wild attempts made contact as he grasped a handful of her hair and pulled.

  “Arghh!” Bryn screamed out in pain.

  He twisted her head and pulled her off his back. He was a large man, over two hundred and thirty pounds. He reeled back to punch her when a loud bone-crunching sound hit her ears.

  Sophie had found a can of food on the floor and smashed it into the side of his head. The impact was solid, and he let out a grunt, released Bryn and slumped over.

  “Oh my God, did I kill him?” Sophie asked, her voice trembling.

  Bryn was furious. She snatched the can out of Sophie’s hand, and if he wasn’t dead, Bryn made sure he was by hitting him repeatedly while his body lay motionless on the floor.

  “Bryn, Sophie, where are you?” Matt called out from inside the store.

  “You all right?” Bryn asked.

  “I’m fine. He tackled me is all. Nothing else happened.”

  “Come on,” Bryn said, getting up, tossing the now bloody can and helping up Sophie.

  They met up with Matt, whose scavenging had been a major success. He too had found a cart and had it full.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here!” Bryn said.

  “What happened?” Matt asked.

  “Nothing, take Sophie outside. I’ll be right back,” Bryn ordered as she jogged to where she had left her cart. Fortunately it was still there, so without further delay she pushed the overburdened and heavy cart out of the store.

  “Let’s get home fast. Keep your eyes peeled, no bullshitting on the way home,” Bryn ordered.

  Sophie and Matt just nodded. The joking and petty conversations were absent on the slow walk back. The reality of the situation they had just endured penetrated deeply. None of them talked. They all pondered the new world around them and wondered if this was a temporary thing or if things had changed forever.

 

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