Flashpoint (Book 1): Flashpoint

by Ellis, Tara

  FLASHPOINT

  The Flashpoint Series

  Book 1

  By

  Tara Ellis

  Mike Kraus

  © 2019 Muonic Press Inc

  www.muonic.com

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  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, without the permission in writing from the author.

  Table of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  INTRODUCTION

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

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  Special Thanks

  Special thanks to my awesome beta team, without whom this book wouldn’t be nearly as great.

  Thank you!

  FLASHPOINT Book 2

  Available Here

  PROLOGUE

  NEW YORK CITY, NY USA

  3:14 pm

  “Seriously, man? You don’t have to be a jerk about it. I wasn’t even speeding.”

  Officer Kenny Banks stared stoically at the cocky teen. He’d practiced the look for years and pretty much had it down. Traffic surged around them and he ignored the blaring horns. Rush hour started early in the city. School recently let out for the summer so the sidewalks were already crowded. The spaces in between the skyscrapers were filled with a unique aroma of perfume, exhaust, and countless varieties of food.

  Squirming slightly, the driver tried again. “My uncle works for the mayor’s office.”

  Slowly pushing his sunglasses up onto his head, Kenny tilted his chin and peered down his nose at the kid. “You’re right. You weren’t speeding. However, you did fail to come to a complete stop at a red light before turning and almost hit someone in the crosswalk. I’d be happy to share my dashcam footage with the mayor’s office.”

  Swallowing hard, the teen gave a small nod before turning to dig through his glovebox.

  Kenny kept watching while his right hand moved inconspicuously over his sidearm. After four years on the streets of New York City, he’d learned to never let his guard down no matter how unlikely the scenario. Doing so had almost cost him his life once.

  Clenching his jaw, Kenny did his best not to crack a smile at the teen who fumbled nervously with various papers and random items, dropping half of it onto the floor of his car. That had been him once, not all that long ago. With an absent father and a mom who worked three jobs to keep a roof over their heads, he’d had plenty of time to find trouble. Fortunately, his mom was a wise woman and insisted he fill his afternoon with sports practice when things started going sideways. It saved him.

  “Here it is.”

  Kenny’s thumb slid the safety lock back into place on his holster. Allowing the smile to form as he relaxed, he reached for the license and registration, fingers brushing over the papers. As he gave them a cursory glance, the background noise of the city was interrupted by a loud clatter directly in front of him. The muscle car's relatively timid horn blared nonstop, though with his hands still firmly planted on his legs, the kid looked as surprised as Kenny felt. Before Kenny could think of a response, the rest of the vehicles around him began blasting their horns as well, the cacophony reaching an ear-splitting volume before abruptly cutting out with the loud pop of blown-out fuses and overloaded electronics. From behind, visible even though he was looking in the opposite direction, an unnaturally bright flash of light coursed across the deep blue summer sky as the noises of the vehicles and the city itself all seemed to be sucked into a vacuum of abnormal silence.

  “What the—” Ducking out of instinct, Kenny spun around toward where the light seemed to be coming from. Bluish-white in appearance, it was already dissipating, but he could see the remnants of it above the shortest of the buildings to the southeast.

  An instant later, a traffic light in a nearby intersection burst with an odd popping sound. Shards of red, yellow, and green glass rained down on the cars closest to it and in that moment all hell broke loose. Brakes squealed, people screamed, and the sound of metal screeching on metal rang out from innumerable accidents as hundreds of vehicles suddenly lost their electronics and power steering.

  Kenny automatically turned his face toward the radio clipped to his shoulder and keyed it up. “Dispatch, Unit 25. Do you read?” Nothing. Not even a click.

  Looking at the now slack-jawed teen, Kenny threw the license and registration back through the window. Without a word, he ran toward his cruiser. The lightbar was dark. He grabbed the handle, but the keyless entry wasn’t working and it wouldn’t open. Momentarily thrown off, he stood there, wondering how he could get into his car.

  “Help me!”

  Among all of the screams and confusion, a voice broke through Kenny’s paralysis. Spurred into action, he dug in his back pocket for the fob. Slipping the end of it off, he then removed the hidden key. Finally gaining access to his cruiser, he gratefully slid behind the wheel, only to find everything dead. A faint smell of burning electronics filled the space, making his eyes water.

  Placing his hands over his face, he concentrated on his breathing, counting to ten as he drew in the slightly acrid air and then released it. Think, Kenny. Focus. His heart slowed and his head cleared.

  Something happened. Something that caused a bright light and knocked out the electronics. Stepping back out of his car, Kenny still had tunnel vision as he ignored the immediate chaos around him and focused on the bigger issue. Was it some sort of terrorist attack?

  Jarred by the fact that he hadn’t even thought to check his phone, Kenny grabbed it from the front pocket of his uniform. Dead.

  His wife. Where was she today? Not in the city. Didn’t she say something about going to her mom’s to plan the baby shower?

  Concentrate.

  The screams sounded like they were coming from far away. He knew he was in shock.

  Breathe.

  “Okay, so no comms to dispatch, and this piece of junk won’t start,” Kenny muttered slamming a hand down on the roof. “I’m cut off. Where do I go?” Rubbing idly at a suddenly persistent itch on his bare arm, he tried to picture a map of the city and his general location. Struggling to recall his training, he knew being cut off was a dangerous thing.

  Compelled once again to move, he went to the trunk of the cruiser and used the key to open it. Grabbing his riot gear, spa
re batteries, and a blanket, he then went back to the cab and took the shotgun.

  He only had a few hours until it’d be dark. Without any power in the city all hell was going to break loose—though it sounded like that was already going on. The florescent POLICE emblem on his back would soon become a target. His local station was his first and closest goal, then home.

  The sound of crashing glass nearby jolted him back to the scene unfolding in the streets. Maybe he didn’t have that long. People continued to pour out of the buildings and fill every available space. Some were holding their useless phones up to the sky, dazed and confused. Plenty of others were already losing it. Or taking advantage of the excuse to lose it.

  He had to get to the nearest subway. Underground was the fastest route and the best way to avoid the mounting pandemonium. It was tempting to look for a working landline, but all of the phonebooths were removed except for a few in the Upper West Side. Most of the subways had Help Point communication systems. Kenny was hopeful that being underground might have shielded them from whatever…this was. There wasn’t anything he could do out on the streets by himself without any information. He’d work his way through the tunnels, back to the precinct.

  Feeling better with a plan of action, Kenny slid his riot helmet on, added the extra vest for protection, and then quickly replaced the batteries in his Maglite. Reassured—though slightly puzzled—when the light worked, he reholstered it on his utility belt. The Taser next to it would be useless, but his Glock would be fine. He was tempted to draw the weapon, but in the throng of people he’d have to push his way through, it was best to have both of his hands free.

  “What should we do, man?”

  Hands pulling at him hurt his burning, itching skin and Kenny flinched. Yanking his arm back, he was faced with the young man from the traffic stop. It seemed so long ago, when in reality, had only been a few minutes. Kenny glanced over the young man’s face and bare arms; he looked like he’d been out at the beach for a full afternoon without any sunscreen.

  “Get out of the city!” Kenny barked before turning away and scratching at his arm again.

  It was two city blocks to the nearest subway station. It was an obstacle course of wrecked cars, broken storefronts, and churning throngs of panicked mobs. Even with the indescribable sounds of mass hysteria, another, even more eerie sound drowned it out as Kenny neared the subway entrance.

  It took him a moment. One long, drawn-out space of time where he held his breath and listened, confused. Then, they reached the surface. Thousands of people, trapped underground on the subways when the lights went out. When the power stopped, their phones went dark and they were left entombed in a blackness unlike anything they’d experienced before. As he drew in a breath, he understood his mistake.

  The first to slam into him was a man with blood smeared across his face, his eyes wild. Kenny had time to wonder fleetingly if it was the man’s own blood or someone else’s before he hit the ground.

  He never got back up.

  Similar scenes were evolving across the island of Manhattan as the desperate masses came to realize they were trapped in a city without power or technology. Farther down the coast, the beachgoers of Florida were left standing on the sandy shores to stare in awe at an indescribable afterglow. Their skin already burning, it was impossible for them to understand what the nausea and rapidly mounting headaches meant.

  Across the ocean, a mother in Portugal abandoned her laundry to the offshore breeze as she fled for the false safety of her home. There, she cradled her two children as her legs collapsed, skin peeling and eyes bleeding. Rocking them as they gurgled their last breaths, she died without the knowledge of what had taken their lives.

  The nightmare unraveled the same way across the village, the country, and half the continent of Africa and most of Europe, as well. From Cameroon all the way to Denmark and from halfway across the Atlantic well into the heart of Iraq, hundreds of millions lay dead or dying after witnessing the same inexplicable flash of light. No one was spared from the disaster—the poorest farmer roaming his fields in Nigeria and the wealthiest banker in Greece all suffered equally in the face of the strange blue light.

  INTRODUCTION

  It’s the universe’s version of firing a cannon. Unparalleled in destructive capabilities, this event occurs in the depths of space when either a massive supernova implodes or when two binary stars merge together. As the star matter collapses to form a black hole, twin beams of energy explode outward in opposite directions, sailing across the cosmos, destroying all that lies in their path.

  These releases of energy, called Gamma Ray Bursts (GRBs), are galactic labors that happen several times a day, though they’re normally observed occurring far outside our galaxy. By the time the radiation and energy from the burst reaches us, it’s weakened enough that our Earth’s atmosphere can absorb any residual radiation, keeping our planet—and us—safe.

  That only holds true for GRBs that originate outside of our galaxy. If one occurred inside the Milky Way, and happened to be pointed in our direction, the results would be catastrophic. Although this would be rare, it’s believed to have happened in the past. In fact, there’s a growing consensus among leading astrophysicists that such an event was responsible for the Ordovician extinction. These GRBs may even explain why so many planets we see in the cosmos appear to be unlivable; perhaps they were sterilized in eons past by a too-close gamma-ray burst.

  In the realm of science fact, there are two potential sources for an Earth-bound GRB in our galaxy at this point in time. The first is a massive star named Eta Carinae and the second a binary star system called Wolf Rayet (WR 104). Both are around eight thousand light-years away, close by cosmic standards, and both have the potential of imploding and setting off GRBs. Wolf Rayet looks to have Earth in its sights, meaning we’re lined up for a direct shot if it happens to go off, while there’s less certainty with Eta Carinae. Although an incalculable number of factors would have to line up in just the right order for either of these possibilities to hit us, it’s still something that makes the list by scientists as a most likely possible world-ending catastrophe.

  From ozone depletion to deadly radiation, a massive EMP, climate changes, and acid rain, a GRB striking Earth would be the very definition of an extinction-level event. Nuclear war, super volcanoes, solar storms—all of these pale in comparison to a gamma-ray burst’s destructive potential.

  Worst of all? By the time you see it coming—it’s already too late.

  Chapter 1

  DANNY

  Salt Lake City, Utah

  Danny Latu leaned her head back in the uncomfortable seat and closed her eyes. Although she was flying with one of the better airlines there was no escaping the cramped space without a first-class ticket. Even if it were possible to fit such a luxury into her budget, the plane was too small to offer it.

  Her long legs bent at awkward angles, Danny pulled the thin blanket she’d snagged from the overhead up under her chin. The cool air blowing full-blast from above her was chilling. She tried not to think about the various germs she was likely inhaling from the recycled air but it was still better than a stagnant, muggy plane ride.

  It was the last connecting flight and final two hours of her jaunt back home across the country. After a very un-Danny-like spontaneous trip for a job interview she hadn’t even thought of applying for until earlier that week, she was now at a crossroads in her life. It sounded dramatic, but for the past eight years, working as a paramedic was dramatic. And incredibly stressful. At thirty, she was already burned out. It was a fact she’d been slow to face, but her breakdown on a fatality scene the weekend before drove it home. She couldn’t do it anymore.

  The plane slowly taxied out onto the runway and then stopped, its engines idling as they waited for their turn to fly the friendly skies. The sound and vibration had a calming effect.

  “At this time, we’d like to ask that all electronics be turned off and stowed for take-off,” a woman’s
voice interrupted Danny’s meditation as it squawked over the PA system. “Please turn your attention to the front of the plane where we will now go over the safety procedures for the flight.”

  The man in the seat next to Danny kept tapping away at his laptop, having been at it since he sat down. She eased her left eye open part-way and observed a long string of numbers and symbols flowing across his screen. Ugh. Math. The last thing she wanted to do was engage the man in a conversation, so she closed her eye before he could notice she was awake. She was normally friendlier, but her next twenty-four shift at the fire department started exactly one hour after the plane landed in her hometown of Helena, Montana so sleep was a necessity.

  Leaning away from him, Danny pushed her head into the small pillow that came with the blanket. At least she’d gotten a window seat. That gave her about two inches of extra space to play with.

  “Sir, I’m going to have to ask that you turn the laptop off.”

  Danny peeked again and grinned at the look on the man’s face as he cowered under the reprimand from the stewardess hovering over him.

  “Oh! I’m so sorry. Of course, I’ll put it away.” The middle-aged man fumbled with the computer, almost dropping it. He finally managed to cram it into the pocket on the back of the seat in front of him, and then pushed his glasses up his nose before leaning back.

  Danny estimated the Hispanic man was in his fifties and he had a pleasant demeanor about him, if a little nerdy. Good thing he wasn’t a big man or else they’d be rubbing elbows. Danny joked that she’d inherited three good things from her Samoan father: exotic features, skin that always looked tan, and a good sense of humor. Everything else, as her father said, was simply big. A big mouth, big temper, and big shoulders. Ones that didn’t fit into either dainty dresses or planes very well.