Hideaway_An Emp Thriller

by Roger Hayden

  After pouring wine into each glass, Larry held his up and offered a toast.

  “To the support of friends during difficult times. May the Lord keep us in His fine blessings.”

  After their cheers, James sipped from his glass and set it down. With the weekend they'd been having, he could have drunk the whole bottle in one sitting. He had to remind himself what day it was, which wasn't hard with the hanging wall calendar next to them marked with an X over each passing day. It was Saturday, October twenty-first.

  That evening, he said very little, lost in his own thoughts, planning his next move. Their hosts seemed in good spirits, expressing thanks for their help around the cabin so far. Larry turned to James while taking a bite. “We'll hit the creek at the crack of dawn tomorrow. Sound good?”

  “Could we try your radio tonight?” Marla asked.

  Larry and Carol exchanged glances as though they were considering it. “We can do that. Sure,” Larry said.

  “I just want to know what's going on,” Marla said.

  Larry cleared his throat and leaned closer. “Let's talk about that. Half the country's power grid has been disabled. That's the closest estimation we can make. They're trying to bring this country to its knees.”

  “Who?” Marla asked, distraught.

  “I don't know,” Larry said with his arms out.

  “We'll nuke whoever attacked,” Carol added. “You can count on that.”

  Marla folded her hands in front of her, pushing her empty plate to the side, not sure how to respond to talk about nukes, and decided to change the subject, thanking Carol and Larry for the delicious dinner. Then she got back to what was really on her mind. “When can we try the radio?"

  Carol suddenly stood up and took the empty plates away to the kitchen sink. James followed and helped clear the table.

  “Well,” Larry said, tapping against the table. “I guess I'll get the radio and we'll see.” He stood up and went to the bedroom, footsteps echoing across the room. James stood behind his chair as Marla called out to Carol, asking if she needed help cleaning up.

  “No, no. That's fine. You guys relax.” She turned on the faucet and began washing the dishes off. Outside, the sun was going down with an increase of wind that rattled the side of the cabin. The faucet turned off as Larry emerged from the hall, carrying what looked like a stereo receiver with a hand microphone and an emergency radio twice the size of the one he had given her earlier.

  James and Marla moved out of the way to give him space as he set the receiver down on the table and put the radio next to it. Both models looked to be at least ten years old or so. The receiver was a bulky rectangular box with vents at the top of its metal casing and knobs and switches in the front. Their emergency radio looked decades-old, with its tuning board, switches, single round speaker in the front, and crank lever on the side.

  “This is my four-way alert radio. Gets a hell of a signal,” Larry said proudly, extending its antenna. “It self-generates power, obviously. It can also act as a charging port for other electronics.” He paused and looked around. “If anything else worked.”

  James pointed to the receiver, eager to see it working. “You think we'll reach anyone?”

  Marla lunged for the receiver and instinctively grabbed the hand microphone. Larry laughed as he gently took the mic back. “Patience, now. We've got to plug this one in first.”

  James turned and saw a power strip in the kitchen with several appliances plugged in. He unwound the receiver plug before Larry could even tell him anything.

  "Go ahead and plug her in. Let's see if this works."

  Marla gripped the top of her chair as James knelt next to the power strip. Carol watched from the sink, biting her lip with obvious anticipation. Larry scratched around his white beard and adjusted the red bandana on his head. He plugged in the radio, and a little spark make them all gasp with an intake of breath. Larry looked at Marla, then flipped a switch on the receiver and backed away with his face beaming. There was static! Success. James jumped in the air, swinging a fist. Carol laughed and joined them at the table as everyone watched Larry turn the channel knob. Red digital numbers flashed as soft static continued to sound from the receiver. A needle swayed back and forth on a circular signal gauge. James was astonished that it had worked. Judging by the silence in the room, everyone was.

  Marla next pulled the crank radio closer to her, asking Larry if she could try it.

  “One thing at a time,” he told her.

  Sitting close together and leaning in on their elbows, they gathered around, with Larry still searching for a frequency on the old receiver. "There has to be someone," he said. "This thing should be able to reach at least an eighty-mile radius."

  "When was the last time you used it?" James asked, genuinely curious, but also worried.

  “It's been some time,” Larry said, his full attention on the dial. He pressed a few bottom switches and eventually settled on a frequency setting of double zero. “Here goes nothing,” he said, taking the hand microphone. With the click of a side button, he spoke. “This is Roller Beast One. Roller Beast One. Copy, over?”

  James recalled his own military radio jargon back in the day but still found Larry's call sign amusingly odd. Larry waited a moment and then repeated himself. Carol had moved right next to him with one hand gripping his leg. James thought they should have started radio calls first thing that day, but their hosts had a regimen to stick to. Now it was radio time, and so far, they had nothing.

  “Can I try?” Marla asked.

  “Just wait,” Larry said, lost in his own concentration. He then lowered the hand mic, seemingly defeated. The room was silent, but for the whistling wind outside.

  “Hello?” a faint voice said over crackling static. James froze in his seat as Marla pulled his hand closer, squeezing. “Hello? Someone there?”

  Larry’s face lit up, and he resumed his radio call. “Yes, this is user Roller Beast One out of Missouri. Who am I talking to?”

  Static nearly drowned out the voice at the other end. “Yes... Bedford... Bedford Indianapolis. Name's Jim.”

  “How are you doing out there, Jim?” Larry said directly into the hand microphone. James feared that they'd lose their new caller as his voice kept going in and out.

  “No power...” he said. “I'm in the basement with my family. It's a... out there.”

  “Say it again, Jim?”

  “I said, it's a mess!”

  “Same situation here,” Larry said. “No power, cars, cell phones, or Internet.”

  James leaned over. “Ask him if he knows of any areas not affected.”

  Larry gave him a strange look instead. “I'm sure if that was the case, he wouldn't be walled up in his basement.”

  “Just ask him!” Marla said.

  Larry sighed and then spoke into the mic. “Jim, are there any areas you know of that aren't affected?” They waited as static crackled over the air. Just when it seemed that they'd lost him, Jim spoke up.

  “No... I haven't left since the arena explosion. That was yesterday.”

  His words suddenly registered with James. “Holy crap. Arena explosion. Like sports arena kind of thing?” He turned to Marla and saw that she had tears welling up in her eyes. Any news that confirmed the widespread nature of the attacks was detrimental to their cause and hope for any escape. By the sounds of things, they stuck.

  “What else can you tell us?” Larry asked urgently.

  Again, they waited with no guarantee that Jim would answer. A reply soon followed before the transmission dropped completely. “Lots of looting going on already. Remarkable. Military wants all... for selective service. Mandatory...” Jim then said no more. Larry called out several times before giving up. “Did you get all that?” he asked Carol. James glanced over and saw that she had been writing inside a notebook on her lap.

  “I can probably fill in the blanks on that one,” Larry said to the group. “Sounds like they're instating some kind of draft.” He
then reached for the radio and began turning the crank knob on the side. “It's got new batteries inside, but we just want to be sure.” He set the radio back on the table and flipped the switch.

  The display screen lit up with the tuning arrow in the middle. They had two working radios now, or so it seemed. One for communicating and one for alerts. At that moment, James began to have second thoughts about leaving within a few days. A week or so, and then maybe he'd begin exploring the area. Larry turned the tuning knob just as before, searching for any signal. This time, however, they could barely even hear the static. He turned the volume to its highest level, but it made little difference. Across the bandwidth, it was dead air. And outside, it had only gotten darker, which could be good. Signals were said to travel better at night, something to do with the ionosphere, so they could try again later.

  Larry moved the dial back as everyone leaned in closer for a good listen. Surprisingly, it sounded identical to the alert announcer from the day before. However, that repeated message seemed to have changed or at least been updated. They listened as Larry carefully turned the volume to its loudest.

  The announcer's voice sounded distant, as though it was traveling through a tube with pops and hisses, like an old scratchy vinyl record. James thought of families gathered around their cabinet radios listening to the president's address that followed the attack on Pearl Harbor. They were living a history now, uncharted in its scope. The only thing he knew for sure was that no amount of history could help them now. They were completely on their own.

  “Avoid coastal states east of the Mississippi. Be wary of driving across state lines. Road blocks and checkpoints have been established for your protection. Areas that suffered a complete blackout, grid failure, and vehicle mobility are minimal.”

  James looked up, ecstatic. “What did he say? Minimal?”

  Larry shushed him and leaned closer to listen as the announcer continued. “Residents are urged to stay indoors or evacuate according to local decree. I repeat, if your city or town has not been attacked, you still need to take precautions. FEMA strongly urges residents to find their nearest emergency relief center. Civilian men and women are also advised to sign up for the selective service immediately, per Department of Defense protocols. War is expected to be declared at any moment.”

  They believed it. Mass chaos and pandemonium were all around them. The message ended and started over before offering any real details. There was no clear message or instructions given. For a moment, it appeared that the government didn't know what to do.

  8

  A New Plan

  The evening had brought more questions than answers. After dinner, James and Marla retreated to the bedroom after a long day. The quiet stillness of the cabin took some getting used to, especially when the rustling sounds of the night began. James stood at the end of the bed and went through his open suitcase. Marla lay on her side of the bed, facing away from him. He wasn't sure if she was sleeping or not, but she hadn't said much after dinner. The latest news was unsettling, to say the least. The situation was worse than they could have imagined, and he feared that they wouldn't be leaving the cabin anytime soon.

  James had taken Marla to the cabin with no clear plan in mind. And in the days that followed, he was going to have to own up to that. Two days away from home, and he was already getting restless. He went through his suitcase, placing clothes into the nearby drawer. Marla had her eyes closed. He then walked slowly to her side of the bed and gave her a kiss on the cheek as her eyes opened.

  “And how are we holding up?” James asked.

  “Great,” she said, looking past him at the wall.

  "Can I show you something?" He returned to the dresser before she could answer, pulling a map from the top drawer. Larry had given it to him after dinner. Of course, James's stated reasons were curiosity alone, not a plan for leaving. As far as Larry knew, he had no desire to venture away from the cabin. James unfolded the map and placed it on the bed, smoothing it out.

  "This is our surrounding area," he said, just above a whisper. Marla leaned in, searching for a name that was familiar. Most of the map encompassed nothing but forest. The small town of Winslow was in the lower right-hand corner, eight miles east of them according to the map’s legend. James had a compass, he just needed to set his coordinates. "When the time is right, I'm going to go out and find the nearest town. From there, I can see how they're doing and get more information."

  Marla sat up and examined the map as her finger ran across the sprawling forest depicted below. "I want to go too."

  "I'm sorry," James began. "If we both go, Larry will get suspicious."

  "He'd probably be angrier if you lied to him," she said.

  James glanced at the door, nervous for a moment as he heard footsteps down the hall. "No one is lying to anyone," he whispered. "We just have to consider our options."

  Marla seemed to understand as she made no outright objections. They both wanted answers, but they had to be smart in their movements. They needed a strategy.

  "I'm not leaving right away," James continued. "In a few days, I'll tell Larry that I want to walk around a bit on my own. And when I leave, I'll see how they're holding up in town." He waited for her to comment, or better yet, encourage him, but her eyes remained fixed on the thin, white curtains covering the window.

  "We need a car," she eventually said.

  James leaned back against the wall, shifting Marla's legs across his lap. "I'll try my best, but everything is different now. We have to accept that."

  Every step made would have considerations for their safety. The scattered broadcasts they heard only gave them some idea of what had happened and the true danger surrounding them. Hunkering down took discipline and patience. It also took a fair amount of detachment. But James wanted their lives back. He felt helpless at the cabin, hardly useful to himself or to Marla. Somewhere, there had to be an answer.

  “How do you feel about the cabin so far?” he asked, bracing himself for the answer.

  Marla rocked back against her pillow with a sigh. “We can make it work for a few more days. Larry and Carol have been very nice, and we shouldn't take it for granted.” She then suddenly grabbed her cell phone on the nearby nightstand and examined the blank screen. She had yet to stop looking at it.

  “If only I could make a call. My parents. My boss. Anyone.” She held the side power button and swiped at the blank screen with her thumbs, growing angrier by the moment.

  James slowly took the phone from her hands. “Don't torture yourself like this. Forget about the phone for now.”

  Marla pulled her hands away in frustration. “What about a landline? You could find something like that, right?”

  “I don't think it would matter,” he said, “but I'll try.”

  From down the hall, he heard Larry and Carol go into their bedroom and close the door. James shifted closer to Marla, trying to hold her. “This is what hunkering down is like. And for now, this is what's going to keep us safe.”

  Marla closed her eyes, facing away from him. “I know that, James.”

  He then sat up again and studied the map, moving his finger along the trail. There was a state road, miles west of where they were at, an area Larry had marked with an X. The road traveled north toward the top of the map. Along the way, there were several tiny unidentified structures in one area. “State Road 55. That'll take us right into Illinois.” He paused and looked closer at the area of unidentified buildings depicted on the map, wondering what they were.

  He folded the map and placed it in his nightstand drawer, determined to study and memorize it over the next few days. The lantern continued to burn, leaving trails of smoke in the air. James turned the lamp’s side knob, lessening the flame but not completely turning it off. He shifted in their small bed, trying to get comfortable. His arm went around Marla as she lay flat on her back, eyes closed. James kissed her face and saw a slight smile.

  “Good night,” he said, pausing. “I love
you.

  Marla nodded and whispered back, “I love you too.”

  He rested his head on the pillow near her as his eyelids gradually shut and a comforting quiet remained. The animals of the evening hadn't come out in full force yet. James’s mind continued to drift deeper into a dreamlike abyss. In his mind, he and Marla were still discussing the plan. He still had visions of the map, examining Willow Creek and the vast hills and valleys that surrounded them. If he did everything right, he'd navigate through the forest with no problem. He could get supplies or find out new and useful information. In his dream, he was already exploring the nearest town. Homes were vacant, with furnishings and belongings scattered outside on the front lawns. A haze of smoke drifted down an empty rural street, the result of a fire far in the distance. It looked like a bonfire, and he heard voices, hundreds of them chanting all around him.

  Sunday

  A week had passed since James and Marla's arrival at the cabin. In that time, the daily routine that followed was much the same. James would spend a little time with Larry during the day, hunting or fishing, while Marla and Carol worked near the cabin. At the end of the day, the emergency broadcasts were also the same, urging residents to find a relief camp nearest them. Over twenty major cities had been evacuated along the East Coast, spilling over to other areas.

  Affected power grids had yet to be restored, resources were dwindling, and no end was in sight. There was talk of selective service enlistment mandated in affected counties. But there were no real answers to any of it, which James found unacceptable after so much time. That morning, he decided to give his plan a try.

  After breakfast, James and Larry stood out on the front deck drinking coffee. Marla and Carol were inside, and there was no better time to begin the conversation. James leaned against the wooden railing, facing the cabin as Larry sat opposite from him, looking out beyond.