A Powerless World (Book 2): When the Peace is Gone

by P. A. Glaspy

  He had cleaned out all the leftover lunches in the fridge throughout the day. They weren’t his, but the power was out and the food was going to spoil, so someone might as well eat it. There were chips, crackers, cookies, and candy bars in the vending machine. Those might last a little while. There were four five-gallon bottles of water for the dispenser, plus an almost full one already on it. There was a shower in the locker room, but he didn’t know how long the water pressure would last. That would be a problem for the toilet as well. He could step out back to take a leak, but the other…well, he’d have to think about that one.

  The biggest thing the place had going for it was the gun racks. There was a half-dozen shotguns, both tactical and standard; a couple of M4 carbines; and pistols in multiple calibers, multiple styles. It was almost like the city council had gotten them off the clearance rack somewhere, because there was no rhyme or reason to them. There were, however, many thousands of rounds of ammo for each caliber represented.

  The more he thought about it, the more it made sense to him to stay in the sheriff’s office. There were supplies in the basement, which was also an emergency shelter. Food, water, blankets, lanterns – everything he’d need to survive. If he rationed it right, he could probably stay there for months without having to leave – once he figured out that bathroom problem. He had nothing at home in the way of supplies. Maybe half a jar of peanut butter and a few slices of cold pizza, that probably wasn’t so cold now. Yes, he was much better off staying put.

  He went down to the basement to see exactly what he had to work with. They hadn’t even opened the crates when they were delivered. They moved them to the basement and forgot about them. When he popped the top on the first one he found boxes of MREs. Hundreds of meals, just for him. In the next crate were cases of water in pouches like the kid’s drink you stick the straw in. He kept opening the crates, pulling out things he wanted to try or might need soon, like blankets and lanterns, as well as couple of the MREs. In the last crate, he found stacks of “honey buckets”. It was basically a five-gallon bucket with a liner, a seat, and a lid. He grinned as he pulled one out. So much for the bathroom problem. There was a piece of paper with instructions on it inside the bucket. He started to toss it aside, but something caught his eye: Odor Control & Maintenance. He decided to give it a look.

  In an emergency situation, you may have to use whatever materials you have at your disposal for odor control. The following items can be used:

  Sawdust: After using the bucket, sprinkle a thin layer of sawdust. This will reduce the odor and still decompose.

  Cedar Shavings: these work even better, and may provide a more pleasant smell. In a remote area, if sawdust or wood shavings are not available, even dry leaves may help reduce odors.

  Wood Ash: If your home includes a woodstove, wood ashes can also be sprinkled over waste in the bucket.

  Straw or Peat Moss: Other recommendations for a bucket additive to keep down odors include chopped straw or even peat moss to encourage the formation of a crust atop the waste.

  Keep the lid tightly closed when not in use to prevent the spread of germs and disease.

  Tim found a nail sticking out of a board and stuck the note to it. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t remember all of that, and he wasn’t really sure where he could find any of it, outside of the wood ash. Oh well, he’d worry about that later. He could still use the toilet for now.

  He went back upstairs to the sound of someone banging on the front door. Annoyed at the interruption, since he really wanted to try out one of those MREs, he dropped the items he had brought up with him in the break room and went around the corner. Standing at the door were Alan, Rich, and Steve. Great. Just what I don’t need. No way am I letting them in here. Those supplies are mine. The survival instinct kicked in quickly when you needed it.

  He went to the door and talked to them through the glass. “Hey fellas. What’s up?”

  Alan looked at him like he had grown two heads. “What’s up?? Have you been asleep all day? The world has gone to hell. Let us in, so I don’t have to yell through this door.”

  Tim was shaking his head. “Sorry, Alan, I can’t do that. I’m under strict orders to keep this place locked down. Nobody in or out.” Not entirely true, but they didn’t know that. Or did they?

  “Orders from who? Who gives a shit anyway? There’s nobody in charge anymore. There’s no laws, or cops. You are officially unemployed, Timmy. Now open the fucking door and let us in. I know you got guns in there. God only knows what other sweet stuff you have. We’re gonna have some fun now!”

  “What makes you think everything won’t be back on in the morning? You don’t know how long this is going to last, Al.”

  “Because it ain’t just the power, dumbass. It’s everything. Nothing modern works. I don’t know what the hell it is, but it ain’t gettin’ fixed tonight, or next week, or next month. Now, are you going to let us in or not??”

  Tim stood there weighing the consequences of whatever he was about to do. If he let them in, they would ransack the place, find the supplies in the basement and take it all. They’d take all the guns and ammo. Sure, they’d probably take him with them, but did he want to go down the path they were heading? What if they were wrong, and things did turn around? He’d be out of a job, probably on the other side of the bars in a jail cell. No, he wasn’t willing to take that chance. Not yet.

  “I’m sorry, Alan, but I can’t. You might be right about the situation, but you might be wrong, too. I need to keep this place secure, at least for a while, and see how everything goes. I need this job, man. Come back in a few days, see how everything is going then.”

  “SCREW YOU, TIM! I hope you rot and die in your own filth in there! Yeah, we’ll be back, BUDDY! Count on it!”

  Alan slammed his hand against the door, then turned and stomped off. Rich and Steve had stood there silent the whole time. They looked at Tim, then at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and followed Alan to his truck.

  Tim watched them until Alan fired his truck up and sped off. Why was his truck running? Maybe Al was right about what was happening, but Tim wasn’t ready to test that theory just yet. No, he was staying put for now. Al will calm down; hell, he was probably high and will forget the whole thing when he sobers up.

  In actuality, Al would forget it, but not because he sobered up – because he remained high from that point forward, and had changed his focus to other things. To hurting other people. To killing other people. Tim would face them again, and would have to choose between his oath and his friends.

  ****

  Tim had holed up in the sheriff’s office for weeks. No other employees showed, including the sheriff, so he had the place to himself. He was bored since there was no TV or radio, but he had food and shelter, something a bunch of other people apparently didn’t have. He stayed out of the front lobby area so no one would know he was there. Some folks came to the door in the first few days, banging and shouting for help. He hid in the back away from the windows. He reasoned with himself that he couldn’t help everyone, so he shouldn’t help anyone. If people knew he had food in there, they’d try to get in to take it from him. The only people who knew about the emergency supplies were the ones who worked at the sheriff’s department and the city council members who had requisitioned them. He hoped none of them remembered.

  After about three weeks, Tim heard a new sound out front. The sound of a key in the door lock. He jumped up from the sofa he had been napping on in a t-shirt and boxers and rushed to the corner to see who was coming in. If they had a key to the door it had to be someone who worked there, or the mayor. It turned out to be both the sheriff and the mayor. He ran back and put his pants on.

  Gary Burns had been the sheriff for over 10 years. He was a good, fair man who always had time to listen to the people he served. Angie Hale had been mayor for almost eight years, due to her similar philosophy of listening to those who put her in office. She and Gary worked very well together. Ther
e were rumors around town that they had more than just a working relationship, but so what? He had been a widower for the last six years, and she had never married, choosing a career in local politics over family life. Together, they almost always put the people before themselves.

  Gary unlocked the door and peered inside. He didn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary, so he proceeded into the lobby. He turned to Angie.

  “Are you sure I can’t talk you into staying out here until I get the place checked out?”

  She firmly nodded. “Yes, Gary. I don’t think I’ll be any safer outside alone than inside with you. Lead the way.”

  He held the door for her, then closed and locked it from the inside. He pulled a flashlight from his belt and started toward his office. Just as he got to the corner, Tim stepped out into the light beam. Gary jumped in surprise; Angie screamed.

  “You scared the hell out of us! What are you doing here, Tim? How long have you been here? Why were you hiding back here?” Gary peppered him with questions. Tim had answers already prepared. He had been playing this scenario out in his head the entire time he’d been holed up there.

  “Hey Sheriff! Man, am I glad to see you! It’s crazy out there, ain’t it! I’ve been here the whole time. I was here when everything went off, and I knew we had valuable stuff in here, like the guns and ammo, so I felt like it was my duty to…you know…guard the place. I was hiding because I didn’t want anybody to know I was here. People were banging on the door at the beginning, looking for help, and I didn’t feel like I had the authority to dispense the emergency supplies from the basement, so I just stayed out of sight. I’ve just been keeping the place secure, hoping you’d show up soon, and you’re finally here! Where have you been all this time?”

  While Tim was going through his prepared speech, Gary kept walking through the offices, looking in to see the state of the place. When he got to the breakroom, he found piles of MREs sorted by meal. He looked at Tim with a raised eyebrow.

  “I see you’re not missing any meals while those people outside starve. Is that what you believed was the purpose of those supplies, Deputy?”

  “No Sheriff, but like I said, I didn’t feel like I had the say so over them, so I just waited in here for someone to show up who did. Madam Mayor, I believe that’s you.”

  Angie had remained silent during their conversation thus far. She took the opportunity of being addressed by Tim as her opening.

  “Yes, that would be me, Deputy Miller. I would like an immediate tally of just what we have left in here that we can share with the community. There are people starving to death in their homes as we speak. There does not appear to be any help coming any time soon, so we need to bring the people together and help each other. It’s past time these supplies were distributed to the community. If this isn’t an emergency, I don’t know what is.”

  “Yes ma’am, it sure is an emergency. Have y’all been able to find out anything about what’s going on? There’s a wind-up radio in the stuff downstairs, but I didn’t hear anything but static on it when I tried it out. Is there any news?” Tim was hoping to set their conversation on a different path. He had been eating quite well, and wasn’t ready to give that security up just yet.

  Gary was still looking around as he spoke. “Yes, we know what happened, but we don’t know who did it or why. The only information we’ve been able to get is from ham radios. Someone detonated a nuke in the atmosphere, which caused an EMP over pretty much the entire country.”

  A NUKE??? Are we at war?? Is there radiation out there? What’s an EMP?” Tim had an almost hysterical tone in his voice. The sheriff tried to calm him down.

  “Simmer down, Tim. It was high enough up that there appears to have been little to no radiation associated with it. To my knowledge, we are not at war – yet. We still don’t know who’s responsible. EMP stands for electromagnetic pulse. It’s like a lightning strike hundreds of miles wide, and fries everything connected to the power grid, as well as anything with a computer chip in it. Pretty much nothing modern works now. Were there packing lists in with the supplies, that gave us a count of everything? Have you kept up with what you’ve used? I appreciate you keeping an eye on the place, Tim, but we need to get this stuff ready to hand out. I’ve spent the last couple of weeks just going from house to house, farm to farm, and seeing how people are holding up. Some of them are in pretty bad shape. The folks in the country are better, because they have gardens, and they know how to hunt and fish. City folks don’t know any of that stuff.”

  “How have you been getting around, Sheriff? My patrol car is dead.”

  “I’ve got an old 1950 pickup I restored years ago. Had it stored in my garage. I’d run it once a month, just out on my property, so it was good to go.”

  “Then, why didn’t you come in to town, come here to check on things?”

  “I was trying to every day. But every day someone else needed my help. I had to bury a whole lot of folks. Mr. Walker’s pacemaker stopped. Mrs. Evans couldn’t keep her insulin cold. The retirement home just outside of town was the worst. It took us a good week to get all those folks buried properly. I just hoped everything here was still secure, because I was too tired to come on in by the end of the day. I finally got to Angie – er, Mayor Hale’s house two days ago. We checked on her neighbors and had to lay a couple more to rest. There was a young woman who was scheduled for dialysis the day of the pulse. She didn’t make it. Another woman went into labor and hemorrhaged. She bled to death, and we found the baby beside her, a little boy. I’m guessing her husband was at work and never got home. It’s been pure hell.”

  Tim was shocked at the amount of death that had occurred just from the power being out. “Man, Sheriff, that’s awful. I guess you just don’t think about all the ways we depend on electricity until you don’t have it anymore.”

  “No, you don’t, which is why we want to get these supplies out to the people who can use them. The folks outside of town, they seem to be faring much better. We should concentrate on the ones close by. We need to figure out a way to let everyone know we are going to be handing stuff out as soon as possible.”

  “Sheriff, I understand wanting to help people but I gotta ask: do you have any idea how long this is going to last?”

  “No, I don’t. I’m thinking it could be months, possibly years. What difference does that make?”

  “Well, if you hand this stuff out to whoever comes by, and everything isn’t back on, what then? Did you just prolong the inevitable? This was enough supplies for a thousand people for a week. There’s that many at least in town. So, what happens next week, and the week after that? Will it do any good now?”

  Gary listened and took in everything Tim said. He was surprised at the forethought the man had given the situation. Or was he hoping to keep the food for himself? One way to find out.

  “So, do you have a plan as to the best way to utilize these items, Tim? Just keeping them stored here is not helping anyone. How do you suggest we proceed?”

  Angie started to protest, but Gary held his hand up to her with a slight shake of his head, in a gesture that said Let’s see what he has to say.

  Tim looked at both of them standing there waiting for him to speak. Okay, Tim, here’s your chance, don’t blow it.

  “Well, Sheriff, I think we should just leave things the way they are for now. I mean, I’ve been keeping this place locked down – no one has gotten in until today. I can keep on staying here, keeping everything secure. Of course, I’ll need supplies to do that…”

  Angie blew up. “How did I know you’d respond with something like that, Deputy?? Have you already done the math and figured out how long you can live off those rations by yourself? Gary, this is ridiculous. We have to get this stuff out to the townsfolk! Why are you even talking to him like he has a say in this matter?? He doesn’t! As far as I’m concerned, he has been paid in full for services rendered for the past three weeks with food, water, and shelter. That’s more than most of
those folks out there have had. He can have another week’s worth in payment for helping get the supplies distributed, and the guns and ammo loaded in your truck. That’s it. The rest belongs to the people!”

  Tim saw his plan going up in flames. He needed to salvage this situation somehow. He looked at Gary.

  “Sheriff, I know what it sounds like, but there’s more at stake here than just the food. Here, we can keep this place secure. We’ve got bullet proof glass out front, metal doors out back. The guns and ammo are locked up tight in the cage. Nobody is getting in there without a key or a big ass truck. Plus, is there no law and order now? Is it every man for himself, and the bad guys get the run of the land? Are we not supposed to protect and serve, whether we get paid or not? I don’t think we should just go home and hope somebody fixes everything before only the evil remain. No, someone needs to be here, to represent the law. I’m volunteering to do that. No one else showed up in all this time. I was here.”

  “You were here hoarding all these supplies for yourself! The only person you were serving was YOU!” Angie practically spat the words out as she pointed a finger at him.

  Gary waited for her to get it out of her system, then nodded. “You’re right, Angie, we do need to do something for the townsfolk, but he’s right, too. We need some kind of representation that there is still law enforcement. We need it now more than ever. How many people have we talked to that told us they had been attacked, robbed, or beaten by gangs already? And this just got started. What’s it going to look like in another month? Some people still had food, or were able to find some. The grocery stores have all been looted, there’s nothing left. Now is when it gets really bad. Hungry people are desperate people. I’ll take you to your place, with a week’s worth of supplies, then I’ll come back here and stay with Tim. We can go out on a rotation and check folks, maybe leave some stuff with the ones who are the worst off. We also need to see if there are any houses that haven’t been checked that belonged to folks who never made it back. I know we saw some standing open, so that may be a pipe dream, but we can look. Unless you have a better idea.”