The Defiant: Grid Down

by John W. Vance

  Carlsbad, CA

  Nicholas didn’t wait for the sun to rise; he was up and working in the garage organizing his gear when the creaking of the garage door pulled his focus towards it.

  Wanting to keep what he was doing private, he didn’t open the garage door, but in order to see what he was doing, he donned an LED headlamp he had stored in a large 40mm ammunition can he’d purchased at a gun show, and he had two LED lanterns on that had also been stored in the same ammunition can.

  He turned the warm light on the garage house door to find Abigail standing there.

  “What ya doing, Dad?” she asked.

  “Just organizing things. We’re going to be leaving soon, and I want to make sure we take what is critical. That old Dodge can’t hold too much, so we have to be very practical.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do you want to help?” he asked.

  “Can I? I don’t know if I’ll be any help.”

  “Nonsense, come in here.”

  She tucked her long dark hair behind her ears and stepped into the garage.

  He gave her a task and she went right to doing it. As they both worked, he could feel a hesitation coming from her. It wasn’t that he was clairvoyant, he was just a father who had paid close attention to his daughter all his life.

  Stopping what he was doing, he looked at her. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m just scared,” she answered, turning to face him.

  “I can understand that. What else is it?”

  She looked down while chewing on her lip.

  He stepped close to her and asked again, “You can tell me. You know you can trust me. I’ve always been there for you.”

  “I’m just worried for my friends.”

  “I’m sure they’re fine.”

  Lifting her head, she looked at him with one eyebrow raised. “Really? No, don’t you think my friends parents are, what’s the word you used, dopey?”

  “Are you asking me to do something, or are you just venting?”

  “Now that we have a car, do you mind if we checked on them?”

  He was about to say no when he hesitated. The last thing he needed was to have her worked up or angry at a time when he needed her support. Stepping back from this as a parent, he tackled it as a business professional. “Yes, but not today, I’m sure they’re fine right now. I promise that before we leave—”

  “When are we leaving for Uncle Jim’s?”

  “In a couple days, three at the most.”

  “Three days, why can’t we stop by some of their houses when you go and check on Nana and Papa?”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he answered and touched her hand.

  “Thanks, Daddy,” she said, a broad smile showing her delight.

  “Is that it?” he asked recognizing she only used daddy when she wanted something.

  “Um, no.”

  “What else?”

  “You said you’ll give me a gun to keep. I was wondering when I can get it?”

  “Yes, that. How about I talk to your mom and then I’ll get you set up later this morning?”

  “Perfect,” she said and twirled around to go back to her inventory.

  He watched her shake and dance to a tune she hummed. Pride filled him as he looked at the little girl who had been his pride and joy become the young woman who displayed the perfect blend of femininity and confident strength that she’d not seen in many men. He just needed to make sure she’d survive what might be coming, and in order to do that she had to be equipped with a new set of skills and tools.

  San Diego, CA

  Fortunately for them, the Best Buy where Matt worked was several miles away. The walk was uneventful, but visually entertaining. As compared to yesterday, they saw more people moving around and even spotted a few operational vehicles. They took notice that the cars were older models. Matt attributed this to the earlier models not having computers and electrical systems to operate the cars. A group of teenagers they encountered were going from abandoned car to abandoned car, breaking in and stealing what they thought was valuable. Like them, the shopping cart was the mode of transport for many out scavenging.

  Matt had assumed that the store would be intact, but when they made the turn and saw the storefront, this assumption was destroyed like the front doors had been.

  When they got closer, a few people were rushing out with equipment in a cart.

  “Human beings are a pathetic joke. Do these people realize they’re stealing junk? None of that shit will work.” Bryn laughed.

  “You’re right. People suck,” Matt said and thrust the baton till it expanded fully.

  Bryn readied her pepper spray as they closed in on the front.

  More people dashed out, their arms cradling Blu-ray players and game systems.

  They jumped each time someone popped out of the store until they walked up and were able to get a perspective of what was going on inside.

  Glass from the large sliding door was glimmering in the early afternoon sun, and each foot they planted crunched the shards into the concrete.

  “There, grab that cart,” Matt said, pointing at a small blue cart just inside the store. With a take-charge attitude, he then ordered, “Grab what food you can, and I’ll go to the back of the store for the cases of water.” He quickly disappeared into the store.

  Bryn and Sophie didn’t debate his command and went to work on junk food. To their surprise and delight, most of it was still there. Those who had broken into the store were more interested in getting useless electrical equipment. Quickly they filled their two carts; they even began to fill their pockets with candy bars. Near the counter Bryn saw small packaged flashlights and batteries. She grabbed them all and stuffed them into the burgeoning cart.

  “We’ll need batteries. Grab as many as you can,” Bryn ordered and dashed over to an aisle. After a moment she saw that Sophie wasn’t there. She turned, fearing something had happened to her, but found her reading a magazine. “What the fuck!”

  Sophie had lost herself in a magazine she had seen near the cash register. “Sorry.”

  “Get over here!”

  A loud crash and bang came from the back of the store.

  They both looked up, only to discover Matt coming their way, cart full of cases of water.

  He ran up, a smile stretched across his pudgy face, and said, “Let’s get this stuff back, drop off and come back. There’s a shit load of stuff back there.”

  Seeing they were limited in their capacity, Bryn agreed, and they all went back. A second day and a second successful haul for them, but she knew this wouldn’t last. She didn’t want to take away from the joy of having been triumphant again, but soon and probably within days, the ease they were having would subside and then a real fight for survival would ensue.

  Upon their return to Sycamore Grove, they found everything the same as they had left it. People still stood around, some were working on their cars, the cries of hungry babies could be heard from a few open windows, kids were playing outside and the three amigos were still sitting at the bottom of the stairs smoking.

  “Whoa, look at you guys,” Alberto said out loud, excited to see the carts full of food and water. “I’m hungry. Can I have a package of the Bugles?”

  “No,” Bryn quickly snapped.

  “What?” he asked, surprised.

  “If you’re hungry, go get your own food.”

  “C’mon, Bryn, don’t be that way,” Sophie said as she reached and took a bag of Bugles and gave it to him.

  “How about me?” Dylan then said.

  “Absolutely not. Sophie, no more, this is ours, we got it. If you want food, go get some,” Bryn barked as she stepped from behind her cart and snatched the bag of chips Sophie was offering Dylan.

  “Why you bein’ a bitch, yo?” Alberto bellowed.

  “I’m not. I just don’t believe in rewarding laziness.”

  “You callin’ me lazy?”

  “I think you can figure that
out yourself. Your ass hasn’t left these stairs since the power went out yesterday morning,” Bryn shot back.

  “Fuck you, bitch!” Alberto fired back, now standing and thrusting his arms around in a wild display.

  “Get out of our way. We need to unload our stuff,” Bryn ordered.

  Matt just watched the verbal back and forth and didn’t get involved. Alberto and his friends intimidated him, and he felt they would kick his ass.

  “I’m not getting outta the way. You want to go up, pay a toll,” Alberto said. He was still standing and put his arms out so that she couldn’t get by.

  “Get out of the way, Alberto,” Bryn said, clearly irritated by him.

  Sophie too kept quiet. She knew her sister, and there was no having her back down from an altercation.

  Bryn grabbed a case of water and walked up to within inches of Alberto and stopped when he wouldn’t move. “Get out of the way.”

  “No.”

  “Alberto, move.”

  Dylan and Craig now stood in solidarity with their friend and smiled devilishly at Bryn.

  “Get out of my way,” Bryn said as she now pushed against Alberto to move.

  Alberto didn’t budge. He laughed, then shoved Bryn. She stumbled back a few feet and ran into the cart.

  She looked down and began to shake her head. That feeling, that overwhelming feeling of rage began to fill her, starting in her head and moving down. She placed the case of water back in the cart and then reached for the pepper spray in her pocket when a metal snapping sound got her attention. She looked over and saw Matt standing tall with his baton fully extended in his hand.

  “Leave her alone,” he barked.

  Alberto laughed, then said, “Look at Pillsbury Dough Boy acting all tough.”

  Craig stepped out from behind Alberto, pulled out a knife and said, “C’mon, tubby.”

  “Guys, stop, everybody stop!” Sophie screamed.

  “Shut up, little sweet cheeks!” Alberto mockingly spouted.

  “That’s it,” Bryn said, pulling the pepper spray out, but stopped when she heard a shotgun’s action work.

  Looking up, she saw Colin at the top of the steps, his shotgun pointed at the backs of the three amigos. “If you boys want to see tomorrow much less the next few minutes, you’ll close your mouths, put your knives away and do as the young lady asked. Get out of their way.”

  Dylan turned and saw Colin holding the shotgun. He hollered, “The old man has a gun. Berto, the old man has a gun!”

  Alberto and Craig turned to see the same view, the muzzle of a 12-gauge Remington 870 pointed at them.

  “Put the gun down, poppy!” Alberto said.

  “You boys need to find another place to loiter. Now move.”

  Alberto just stared at Colin, their eyes locked in a bitter contest to see who’d budge first.

  “Don’t tempt me. I’m an old vet who has PTSD; I’ll put you down like a pack of wild dogs. Now get moving,” Colin said, his steely eyes not moving from his first target, Alberto.

  Bryn, Matt and Sophie just stood voyeuristically watching the standoff.

  Alberto knew he couldn’t win, especially if Colin was determined to use the shotgun. Conceding, he turned to his two friends and said, “Let’s go, fuck these motherfuckers.”

  The three looked at each other and strutted off. Just before Alberto cleared the corner of their building, he turned and flipped his middle finger at Bryn and Colin.

  Bryn picked up the case of water and marched up the stairs; she stopped at the top and looked at Colin, who was now relaxing in a chair. She said, “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, I always hated those punks; glad they’re not over here stinking up the place.”

  Bryn smiled and walked to her front door. She unlocked it and was about to walk in when Colin stopped her by saying, “You watch yourself, okay? This wasn’t the last time you’ll have to deal with them.”

  Bryn looked at him and answered, “Yeah, I figured. So how can a girl like me get her hands on a gun like that?”

  “Oh, that?” He motioned with a slight grin. “You don’t want that, but I might have something else that’s better suited for ya. Come by later, I’ll get you outfitted.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  San Felipe, Mexico

  The small bedroom was exactly fifteen paces wide, and by the late morning Michael had walked that span forty times. Not wasting any time, he got up the moment the sun’s rays came through the blinds. Overnight, more of his memory had returned, but when asked by Marco, he denied knowing anything.

  His memory of being a Ranger had come back to him completely as did a lot of his past. He remembered that his brother, Nicholas, lived just north of San Diego and that he was his only family. While he paced the tiny space, he calculated his escape. He’d wait for the right moment and slip past Marco, preferably while his captor was asleep.

  The door handle turned.

  Not wanting to appear too healthy, he jumped back in bed and lay there.

  The door opened fully. It was Marco and he was holding a tray of food.

  “Here,” he said, placing the tray next to his bed. “You remember anything else?”

  “Nothing really, I do remember washing up on shore, but nothing about a ship or missile.”

  “Keep trying,” Marco said and left, slamming the door behind him.

  Michael had to get out of this situation and fast.

  The rumble of a truck engine got his attention; he got out of bed and peeked through the blinds. There in the driveway he saw Jose, Maria, a woman who must have been Jose’s wife, and a small Datsun truck. They got in and drove off. As a trail of dust followed behind them, Michael prayed they were coming back because that little white truck was his way out of here.

  Somberness came over him. He couldn’t figure out what he was doing on that ship and exactly what had happened. From the little he was told, a missile had been fired and now the grid was down in San Felipe. He knew what the missile represented and what had created the blackout. During his years in the Army, EMPs were discussed during the nuclear, biological and chemical courses he had taken. He recalled that the use of an EMP typically preceded a major nuclear strike. Is that what had happened? Had a nuclear war broken out? But why was he in Mexico, and why would he have been on the ship?

  He laughed out loud when he thought that he had as many questions that needed answering as Manuel, Marco or the others had.

  He looked around the sparse room for something he could use as a weapon. If he was going to make a daring escape, he’d need something to fight with. In the room there was a full-size bed with no headboard or footboard, a nightstand with only a Bible in the single drawer, a small lamp and a four-drawer dresser. Pulling out the drawers from the dresser was disappointing, as he only found clothes. “If I were a makeshift weapon, where would I be?” he asked himself. He scanned the room again, and when his eyes came upon the closet, they opened wide. It took him two steps to get there, he flung open the door, but the closet held nothing but boxes of blankets. Frustrated, he closed the door and rested his head against the wall. He turned, saw the crucifix and said a prayer, and as if God answered him, his eyes looked squarely at the framed Jesus that hung opposite the crucifix. He took it off the wall, removed the back and popped out the glass. He reassembled it and got it back on the wall. He placed the five-by-eight-inch glass under a pillow and broke it. Using the linen napkin that came with his meal, he wrapped it around the base and created a handle.

  Holding his improvised dagger, he felt empowered and one step closer to freedom.

  Thoughts of his brother then flooded in. He now recalled that Nicholas had a family and that he had a niece. A sense of obligation and protection hit him. Escape took on greater meaning. He needed to help his brother, and he needed to be in San Diego protecting them against whatever had been unleashed. He just prayed that he wasn’t behind the hell that had been let loose.

  Carlsbad, CA

 
“Absolutely not!” Becky declared.

  “Becky, please, it makes sense,” Nicholas replied defensively, his temples throbbing from the stressful and dramatic debate.

  “Mom, don’t be like this,” Abigail pleaded.

  “No, no, no. My little girl is not going to be running around with a gun.”

  “I need her to be able to defend herself,” Nicholas fired back.

  “From what, huh? The world isn’t falling apart like you thought it would. Maybe, just maybe things will get back to normal soon.”

  “You’re being ridiculous, you really are,” Nicholas barked.

  “Mom, c’mon, what if something happens or I’m by myself?”

  “That’s not going to happen and, honey, what if you do something stupid with it?”

  “I’ll train her, make sure she knows what she’s doing with it,” Nicholas said in an attempt to find compromise.

  “Dad took me to the range a few times. I know how to shoot,” Abigail said.

  “That’s in a controlled environment, Abby, not walking around with a loaded gun,” Becky fired back.

  “Becky, I’m giving her a revolver. It’s simple to use and she won’t have any issues and that’s that,” Nicholas declared, putting his foot down and establishing that he was in control.

  Becky’s eyes grew to look like two saucers. The veins in her neck bulged and her nostrils flared. Her anger was near a tipping point. “If you give her a gun…”

  Nicholas leaned in; he wanted to hear what her ultimatum would be.

  Her eyes shifted as she searched her mind for a proper punishment.

  “Abby, come with me,” Nicholas ordered and headed for his office, Abigail in tow.

  “Don’t you dare!” Becky yelled.

  “Or what? I won’t be around to always protect you guys. This is important.”

  Becky looked at them as they walked towards Nicholas’ office. If she had a gun herself, she’d probably shoot Nicholas.

  “Nic, we had an agreement,” she stated.

  “Not when it comes to protecting my family,” he said, not stopping.

  Becky huffed and followed them into his office.