by John Chapman
The next hour or so was a frenzied mess. Ed returned to tell Chris that there were a bunch of cars dead on the road on their street, Mahoning Avenue, as well as on State Street, the major connecting road through town; and that there were a lot of people just milling around. He said he didn’t see any cars moving at all. Chris and Ed then checked all the heavy equipment on the property to see if anything still ran. They found a frontend loader, a backhoe and a bobcat that started right up. All three had been stored in a metal equipment shed with the doors closed. Ed said, “Whatever it was, it seems to be stopped by metal buildings.” Chris thought for a minute and said, “Yeah, the optic on the pistol I was carrying outside when it happened was fried, but the one on the carbine that was inside my car is fine.” They both thought about it for a minute, then Ed said, “Well, whatever it is we need to get moving. We shouldn’t leave those bodies out; the animals will get to them.”
So before they left, Chris used the Bobcat to move Margret, Carl and Willy’s bodies to the ramp and collapse the gravel pile onto them, burying them in a tomb of about 10 feet of rock. They both felt terrible about it, but it was the best they could do under the circumstances. When he got off the Bobcat, Chris walked to the mound and said, “Lord, please watch and protect the souls of these good people. Please give us strength and wisdom as we deal with whatever this disaster becomes.”
After the burial, Chris met Ed and Bonnie at Ed’s Truck. Chris asked where Carol was, and Bonnie said, “She and Jeff disappeared when I went to get my stuff from the car and bring it here. I hope she’s OK.” Chris was upset that Jeff may be taking advantage of Carol, a young single mother, in the times ahead, but couldn’t think of anything to do about it right this minute. Chris then asked if anyone had seen the injured dump truck driver, but no one had. They looked for the guy for a few minutes, but couldn’t find him. Chris called them back together at Ed’s truck and said, “I’m not wasting any more time on that guy. He’s a grown man and will just have to deal with it.” Bonnie and Ed both nodded and loaded up in Ed’s truck without another word.
As they pulled out of the property and turned north onto Mahoning Avenue for the first leg of their trip, to drop Bonnie off at home about 4 blocks away, Ed looked past Bonnie, who was sitting between them, and with a straight face told Chris, “Look on the bright side; God fired Carl for you.” Chris just sighed and shook his head.
Chapter 2
City Police Range
Alliance, OH
Mark Wallace showed up for work early. It wasn’t that he was late very often, but getting up at 5AM to be at the range by 7AM for a class got harder the older he got. He usually rolled in 15 minutes or so before class, making him the butt of many an hour of jokes by the range manager, Kyle Wilson. In addition to being the range manager at the police training facility where Mark taught almost every day, Kyle was Mark’s boss on the SWAT team, and was one of Mark’s closest friends. Kyle knew all of the buttons to push to get Mark wound up, and usually pushed them with ruthless efficiency. It was a source of much entertainment, but Mark didn’t mind; if you were a delicate flower or were easily butt-hurt, being a SWAT officer and tactical trainer probably wasn’t your calling in life.
Mark was a semi-retired police officer, who moved to Ohio several years previously after a law enforcement career in California and several years of traveling around the world teaching SWAT teams. He and his partner, David Wells, owned and operated a firearms and tactics training company that catered to police SWAT teams and some armed citizens who took their training seriously.
With the current unrest in the country leading to increased threats against the police, and a greater awareness by citizens of the need to train to a higher level, they were very busy. Mark kept his experience fresh by serving as a volunteer police officer in Alliance, where he was one of three Team Leaders on the City’s part-time SWAT Team. He and David also did a lot of free classes for officers from all over the state. He liked helping the good guys be better fighters, and felt a responsibility to teach whatever he could to as many cops and responsibly armed citizens as possible.
Mark had been traveling to Alliance to teach courses for many years, and when the opportunity came up for him to move to Ohio and teach there full time he jumped at it. The range facility at Alliance was world class, and was the result of many years of work by Kyle, the Chief of Police, City government, and large amounts of support from the firearms industry and the local community. It had everything needed to do advanced training, but its real advantage was the range was not restricted to law enforcement training; civilian students could take most of the courses offered there as well.
This was unusual, as most law enforcement agencies didn’t want the hassles or perceived liability of allowing citizens to train with them. Hundreds of responsibly armed citizens took advantage of this policy every year, training right alongside professional lawmen and gunfighters. The down side of the range, if there was one, was it was located inside the perimeter of the City’s water treatment plant, but nothing is perfect. The good news was after a while you got used to the smell of fresh poop.
Most important to Mark, however, was that he rarely had to travel anymore. His wife, Kasey, was happy to have him home most nights, and he had gotten tired of watching his family life slip away while he was on the road. Mark knew that moving to Ohio had played a large part in saving his marriage; and he was very aware and thankful for the part Kyle and the City had played in making the move possible.
Mark’s business partner, David, lived in Indiana, where he worked his “day job” as a heart surgeon. David would drive up to Alliance to teach classes frequently. He hadn’t always been a cake eating heart doctor; David started his adult life in the US Army, where he was a Special Forces 18D (SF Medic… kind of a demi-doctor with mad combat skills) and sniper for 8 years, before letting the GI bill carry him away to medical school. While they made an unusual pair, based on life and professional experience, David and Mark meshed very well; and they had been all over the world teaching cops and military units together. They had settled on Alliance as a home base for their business after deciding their families deserved better than them being on the road all the time.
Alliance was a perfect home base for a law enforcement and civilian firearms training business because of the facility Kyle and the city had built. Situated on a little more than 5 acres, the “range” was actually a very compact but fully functional training facility. When you entered the gate the first building on the left was the bathroom. These weren’t just any bathrooms but a stand-alone building sporting some of the nicest “facilities” on any range Mark had ever seen. And he had seen a lot of ranges. Next to the bathrooms was the range’s vault, a large purpose-built government certified storage building for weapons, ammo and other dangerous materials. The vault was a key component in attracting government training business, because visiting teams could secure their equipment there and not have to keep it in the hotel in town when not training.
The next building on the left was the range office. A small stand alone 20’X20’ building, it had been the only structure on the range when Kyle had taken over. Built in 1961, the range office had served as the range classroom until the erection of the next building on the left, the classroom. A very large metal structure built in 2016, made possible by a donation from Blue Force Gear the classroom had two rooms; one large and the other small. The classroom had 5 large rollup garage doors that allowed for maximum flexibility in how the classroom was used.
Behind the classroom was the range’s crown jewel: an 8000-square foot ballistic shoothouse with a catwalk. This part of the range was the most commonly used feature of the facility; hosting civilian, law enforcement and military training almost 250 days a year. Beyond the classroom was the range’s parking area for military vehicles. Opposite the classroom, on the right side of the range from the gate, were the facility’s breaching ranges. An entire row of breaching obstacles allowed the SWAT team and range staff t
o teach all of the skills necessary for mechanical, ballistic and explosive breaching.
Next to the breaching range was a 50-yard pistol and carbine range, capable of accommodating up to 20 shooters at a time on either paper or steel targets. The back corner of the 50-yard range also boasted an aircraft cabin simulator, used to train air marshals from around the word. Beyond both the military parking area and the 50-yard range was a beautifully manicured 300-yard range, equipped with a full complement of steel targets.
All of the range’s facilities, along with many off-range training areas for realistic urban and rural training, and the support of the City’s government, combined to create an almost perfect environment for modern tactical training. The decision to base their training business at Alliance had been a no-brainer for Mark and David.
*
It was easier being early today because the class Mark was teaching wasn’t scheduled to begin until noon, so he was able to get up at a more reasonable hour and still be at the range 2 hours early to set up the shoothouse for the day. Mark was happy that David was in town to teach the Advanced Close Quarters Battle (CQB) course with him, and today was day one of the class. It was the last class of the year and the entire range team was ready for a break after a long, busy, 10-month training season.
Being pretty pleased with himself because he beat Kyle to the range for once, he unlocked the office, made coffee and poured a cup. Then Mark lit a cigarette and leaned against the front bumper of his Yukon, intent on meeting Kyle when he pulled up so he could rub it in that he beat him to work. It was a beautiful winter day, with a clear blue sky contrasting the 28-degree temperature. Life Was Good. Mark thanked God for his Arcteryx cold weather gear, and enjoyed his coffee. After about 10 minutes, the shine started to wear off of his grand plan to get over on Kyle, so he opened the back hatch on his SUV, unlocked the Truck Vault, and started getting his personal gear ready for the long day of teaching tactics.
As Mark was pulling his plate carrier out of the vault, Kyle pulled up and backed into his usual spot. Kyle got out of his decrepit Chevy Trailblazer and pretended for a moment not to see Mark, then as he walked to the passenger side of his SUV he looked up, appearing startled, and said, “Oh, you scared me. The last thing I expected was for you to beat me to work. Ever.” Kyle then laughed uproariously and said, “Got you good!” Mark just grinned and shook his head. Kyle had been a cop for over 25 years, and before that served in as an Infantryman in the Ranger Regiment. This combination of life experiences gave Kyle an interesting sense of humor. It was hard not to love Kyle, even when he was being a 4th grader trapped in a 47-year-old man’s body. Kyle continued to laugh to himself while he got his gear out of his Trailblazer and walked into the range office. Mark grabbed his helmet bag and 3rd line assault pack, picked up his plate carrier, and lugged his gear into the office. After setting his gear down he refilled his coffee and sat down in the camp chair that served as his office seat.
Mark asked Kyle, “So, are you ready for this training season to be over or what?” “Oh, hell yes,” Kyle replied, “It’s going to be a busy day with both your CQB class and our own SWAT training today, but I’m looking forward to the end of the week. Friday night I’ll be on the road to my dad’s place in West Virginia to kill as many deer as DNR will let me shoot.” Mark chuckled and asked him, “Do you want to merge SWAT training with day one of the CQB course? We only have 8 students in the CQB course, and could handle all 18 of our SWAT guys.” Kyle thought about it for a few seconds and said, “That would help me out if you don’t mind doing it that way. It would let me get a bunch of admin stuff done today so I can get out of here early on Friday.” “No worries,” Mark said, “The team will be here at 11, and I’ll brief the other team leaders and get everyone ready to train once the regular students get here. I will use my team as assistant instructors. With that many students, we will need the extra eyes in the shoothouse.” Kyle said, “Thanks Bro,” and then turned to his computer to start working.
Mark left the office and ran into David, who had just arrived, and after a quick bro-hug, briefed him on the addition of 18 more dudes to the class for the day. David took it in stride, and just said, “Awesome, we will have a great day. I brought the family with me, so we will have to go grab Kasey and get some dinner after class.” David spent so much time in Alliance he had purchased a home, and his wife and kids frequently came with him to town.
Mark and David spent the next 45 minutes or so picking up the shoothouse and getting the furniture, target stands and targets ready for the first few runs. By then the Team’s SWAT officers had all arrived and were ready to train, so Mark put them through the quick qualification they shot twice a month to test their basic skills. By the time they were done, all of the open enrollment Advanced CQB students had shown up. David was ready to begin the course in-briefing for the CQB class when Mark and the rest of the team walked into the classroom. “Find a seat, brothers, and we will get to work,” David said. The SWAT guys took off their gear, and everyone took a seat. Another training day at the range was underway.
*
“How is it even possible I’m sweating right now?” Lee, one of the CQB students, asked a couple of hours later. Lee was ditching his gear in the classroom after the first full speed team scenario in the shoothouse, getting ready to do the after action for the run. After he racked his rifle and got his helmet and vest off, he continued, “I swear I never moved faster than a walk, but I’m smoked.” “Dan would be happy to towel you off.” said Ronnie, one of the SWAT guys. Everyone laughed, and when it quieted a little Dan piped up with, “No really, I’ll towel you off bro.” Everyone laughed even harder. “Dan retains his title as ‘gay chicken’ champion for the day,” Mark said in a loud voice. “Now, find your seats.
Mark sat down inside the classroom and lead off the after-action review while David stood just outside the door and checked his phone for text messages from his “day job”. About halfway through the first team’s comments the lights in the classroom went out and they heard the heater stop running. At the same time, David mumbled, “What the hell just happened.” while he tried hitting the home button on his phone to get it to wake up. “I just charged this thing an hour ago,” David said. Mark heard David’s comment so he stood up and pulled out his phone to give it to David to do whatever he needed to do. Mark’s phone woke up fine, but David noticed immediately it had no cell signal and would not connect to the range’s Wi-Fi. David stuck his head in the door and said, “Everyone, do me a favor and check your phones,”
All 26 guys in the classroom checked their phones, and they all powered up, but no one could get a cell signal or Wi-Fi. As Mark was about to speak, Kyle came in the classroom and said, “Are any of you guys having problems with your phones? The power went out, my phone won’t turn on, and my laptop died.” Everyone just looked at each other for a couple of seconds, then David looked directly at Mark and said, “We should all try to start our cars before we freak out.” Mark’s mind immediately flashed to his wife Kasey, but he forced down the worry. Kasey was an accomplished police officer, assaulter and sniper in her own right; and she had a cool head in emergencies. If this was bad, she could hold her own until they linked up.
Within 3 minutes, when none of their cars would start, there was little question in any of their minds about what happened. Their only real confusion was why the phones of the guys who were in the classroom at the time of the event still powered up. Lee, an electrical and computer engineer by trade, pointed at the classroom building and said, “Metal building disrupted the pulse. We should all check our optics, lasers and lights on our carbines; they were in the classroom too. We should also check anything inside our vehicles that wasn’t wired into the car, like hand held radios, night vision, tablet computers, stuff like that.” Mark said, “If that is the case, we might be able to salvage a lot of useful equipment.”
Kyle got a look on his face, turned around, and ran to the stand-alone vault next to the office.
Mark chased after him and helped Kyle open the door. Kyle went directly to the radio rack inside the vault and turned one on. It worked. “You know, having comms that still work is going to be a Godsend during whatever this is bro,” Kyle said. Mark nodded his head and said, “That, and if the vault hadn’t been grounded correctly, those 700 blasting caps might have made for quite a show.” Kyle shivered involuntarily. Mark said, “We need to do an inventory of every single piece of equipment, ammo and explosives we have on site; I have a feeling things are about to get sporting.” Kyle couldn’t disagree. He just nodded and started counting spools of det cord.
Chapter 3
Summit County Courthouse
Akron, OH
The Common Pleas courtroom stunk particularly bad today. Usually the small room filled with low cost lawyers, cops in court with 3 hours of sleep after working the 3rd watch, and the never-ending parade of hygiene challenged defendants offended the senses, but today’s bouquet was foul enough to gag a third world garbage truck driver. Kasey Wallace, a part time police officer in Tallmadge, an Akron suburb, was waiting her turn to testify in a minor heroin possession case stemming from a traffic stop, and the defendant’s lawyer was late. This delay forced Kasey to endure the smell she had learned to associate with the slow-motion collapse of society.
To pass the time, Kasey watched a defendant who was sitting in front of her in the gallery, a 20-something girl with the twitch and teeth of a meth abuser, surfing Snapchat on her smart phone in direct contradiction of the rules as laid out by the Bailiff prior to the court being called into session. As Kasey was contemplating giving the Bailiff the ‘head nod / fingerpoint’ to alert him to the transgression, the lights went out in the courtroom. Winter power outages weren’t unusual in Akron, but Kasey noticed the look of confusion on the girl’s face and saw that her phone’s screen had gone black. She watched as the girl tried to wake up the phone without success.
