The Blackout

by Stephanie Erickson

  He took a deep breath and resolved to be constructive. In the coming weeks, he would have to make a choice – continue following the coast, with a solid food source, or cut the travel time and veer inland a bit. Gary hated to extend his journey, but abandoning a known food source made him nervous. He didn’t have anything useful to kill game with, if there was even any to be had. He also didn’t have any salt or anything to preserve fish with, eliminating the possibility of storing up food before he veered away from the coast.

  He considered the map. At the furthest point from the water, he’d be sixty miles or so from food.

  That’s too far to walk if I was starving. I’d have to decide quickly to turn towards the coast if it became necessary. But it’s always an option. If I don’t find food in the first day or two, I could always turn east, he thought.

  One nice thing about walking the coast was that there weren’t too many big cities, so he avoided most of the Wanderers. Venturing inland might put him in unnecessary danger. Molly would never know he was making good time if he was killed before he got home.

  Gary decided a middle-of-the-road approach was best. Most of the bays had feeder rivers that went a little ways inland, and he could travel between them without too much extra time. If he took 64 to 664, he could find food in the wildlife refuge. He didn’t want to cut across it, for fear of getting lost inside, but if he skirted the west side of it, he could be at one of the many rivers in another day’s walk. More of the same awaited him further south.

  He had at least sixty-three days before he would be home. Sixty-three more days of walking. Sixty-three more days of surviving. Sixty-three more days without Molly.

  It was a long time.

  The Storm

  21.

  “Into each life, some rain must fall.”

  - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  A storm was coming. A storm that would stir the souls of the lives it touched. A storm with the potential to destroy what was left of the world as they knew it- a world they desperately struggled to hold on to.

  22.

  Beth and Molly were sitting on the back porch working on the week’s lesson plans when a man came strolling around the side of the house. He was very striking and Molly had a hard time not staring. He had olive-colored skin and dark hair that shined in the sun. His button-down shirt was open at the top and untucked from his jeans, giving him a sexy, rumpled appearance.

  “Hey. When are you coming home? You know Mom doesn’t want you out past dark.”

  Confused, Molly realized he was talking to Beth. “I just want to finish up here. I’ll be home before dark. Don’t worry.” There was a hint of annoyance in her voice.

  He wandered up next to Beth and jammed his hands in his pockets. “Hey,” he said and nodded in Molly’s general direction.

  “Hi.”

  “Oh. Molly, this is my brother, Seth. Seth, Molly.”

  Now that she knew it, she could see the similarities between the two of them. Beth had the same skin tone, slightly lighter hair, and the same shape to her face and eyes. “Nice to meet you,” she said. He nodded again in response.

  Beth sighed as an awkward silence descended. “I promise I’ll have her home on time,” Molly said through a smile. She nearly added ‘sir’ to the comment, but stopped herself. She didn’t know if he could take a joke.

  He cracked a bit of a smile. “You just better, or she’ll be grounded.”

  “Alright. I’m sitting right here. And I’ll get this done a lot faster if you leave us alone, Seth.”

  He chuckled and turned Molly’s way again. Her heart fluttered a bit to have his beautiful brown eyes settled on her. “See ya round,” he said with a distinct look of mischief in his eye.

  “Sure,” was all she could muster. Idiot, she thought as she watched him walk away. You’re acting like a teenager! You’re married! Get a hold of yourself.

  “Sorry about that little…interruption,” Beth said.

  “No worries.” She paused. “So, is he older or younger than you?”

  “Younger, but only by two years. When the Blackout happened, my mom wanted us all in one place, so we moved back in. Neither one of us had gotten married yet or even been seeing anyone seriously, so it wasn’t like we had to uproot families or anything. And lucky for her, we’d stayed close by.”

  Molly thought of her parents, who’d moved a thousand miles away before they both passed on. For the first time since they’d died, she was grateful they weren’t around. She wasn’t sure if she could handle worrying about Gary and the two of them – not knowing if they were OK, if they had enough food, if they’d been attacked by Wanderers. She returned her thoughts to Beth. She was in her mid-twenties, so that made her brother early twenties. He wasn’t that much younger than Molly; only about a decade.

  “Well, that worked out well.”

  “Yeah, it did for my mom.” Beth chuckled a little. “She kind of drives us crazy with worrying. Especially after we were both used to having so much independence.”

  Molly couldn’t imagine going back to living with her parents at this point, and being subject to curfews and rules again, so she sympathized. However, she couldn’t help thinking that it must’ve been nice to have someone so close to worry about you. Realistically, it was scary out, and her mom’s worries weren’t overly unfounded.

  “I feel for you, but it’s dangerous out. You can’t blame your mom for worrying.”

  She sighed. “I guess. I just…” She thought for a moment. “I never expected this is what my life would be. I had such ideas, ya’ know? Dreams for myself, for my life.” She chuckled a bit. “Let me tell you, they did not include living at home with my mother and brother at twenty-eight years old.”

  Molly frowned and nodded. She could say the same thing – the dreams she had for her life hadn’t included living alone, not knowing whether her husband was dead or alive, and teaching at a K-through-whatever school.

  “Well, we’ve all had to shift our focus, for lack of a better term. It’s not been easy for anyone. And I s’pose we’re all hoping this is temporary. I know I am. In fact, I’m not really hoping, I’m more…expecting. This isn’t life as I know it, and the old way will come back eventually.” Molly nodded to emphasize her point.

  Beth looked across the yard, watching the wildflowers bend in the breeze. “Wouldn’t you say the old way has come back?”

  Molly couldn’t get Beth’s comment out of her head, so she decided to face it head on. She’d been debating about reading Alas, Babylon with the group for a few weeks. Worried the kids might panic about the subject matter, she considered skipping it. But the relevancy of it was too tempting, and her conversation with Beth tipped the scale.

  The book took place in Fort Repose, a town in Central Florida. Molly was never sure if it was a real town or not. It wasn’t someplace she’d ever heard of, and she couldn’t really go online and look it up. But the fact that it was in Florida hit home for all the kids.

  The book received mixed reviews. Some of the kids simply didn’t like it. Molly thought that was because it was too real, too much like what was happening. Others thought it was great, citing how innovative it was for the nineteen-fifties.

  That day, they were seated outside in the grass, taking advantage of the beautiful December weather. “Now, I want to talk about some of the struggles the people in Frank’s book faced, versus the ones we are facing,” Molly suggested.

  “Do you think we’ll run out of salt?” One of the boys at the edge of the group asked.

  “It’s hard to say, Lewis. I hope not. And I don’t even know if Frank’s research on the effects of salt deficiency is sound.” She thought about the people on the other side of the wall. “Right now, I think we have bigger problems.”

  “How come the people in Frank’s book didn’t have to deal with Wanderers?” Another asked.

  “Well, it’s hard to say. I think a lot of the other people were killed in the blasts, don’t you? So they didn’t r
eally have an extraneous population wandering around looking for resources like we do. Ours was a catastrophic event, but not deadly.” She thought of Gary, hoping that was true.

  Cassandra piped up. She was a bright student, about sixteen years old. Her parents had been major supporters of Burt and the wall. “I don’t think their struggles were all that different than ours, and I think the book is a testament to what we all have to look forward to.” Silence fell heavily upon the group.

  Bingo, Molly thought. It was what she was waiting for. Either she’d have a good discussion, or she’d crash and burn, and she was about to find out which.

  “What makes you say that, Cassandra?” Molly asked.

  “Well, look at them, and look at us. We’ve started farming, we’ve learned to like eating fish regularly, we’ve come together as a community, we’ve dug wells, and I think as supplies get more scarce, they’ll also be more valuable. I mean, no one uses money anymore, or even speaks of it. All of our money was digital and disappeared with the power. Just like in Frank’s book, food and supplies will become the unit of trade. You just watch.”

  Molly smiled. It was something she had considered as well. Jimmy had told her as much. Even in the early days, he knew.

  “Well, having read this, what do you think you could suggest to Burt or the town leaders to help make our lives easier? What can we learn from the successes and mistakes of Frank’s characters?”

  No one had anything to offer, so Molly tried to start them off. “Ok, well, couldn’t you argue that most of their struggles were from external sources? Food shortages, radiation poisoning, crime, things like that?”

  Heads bobbed in agreement. “Well, some of our struggles have been internal. A selfish few planted a seed of doubt that grew into a small rebellion. Now, our town is a bit smaller.”

  “Yeah, well, now we have less people to care for, less to come up with supplies for,” a boy in front snidely added.

  “True. But my question is, why wouldn’t Frank’s characters rebel against each other the way we did?”

  A quiet girl who never usually said much made eye contact with Molly. “Emma. Do you have something to add?”

  “I just think that maybe Frank’s book is a little optimistic. Maybe it was Frank’s way of saying what he thought humanity should be like, not necessarily what it really is like.” She paused. “I mean, in a crisis situation, you always want to believe people will help each other, that the best will come out, don’t you think?”

  Molly smiled. “Yes, Em. I do think.”

  Molly learned about the goodness of humanity that night. The attack came swiftly and quietly. Burt and his family were sleeping, but Jimmy was on duty at the wall and saw some movement. By the time he tracked the intruders down, they were at Burt’s house, setting it aflame. They were standing in the shadows when Jimmy and his team tackled them, and a group of neighbors worked to get the small fire out.

  Burt burst from his home demanding an explanation. Jimmy held the leader from behind while he squirmed and thrashed, trying to get free.

  He grasped the man’s face and turned it into the light. He was bearded, dirty, and wild, but recognizable. “Craig.”

  The people watching the scene gasped in unison.

  “I suppose it was your brood that set the supplies on fire too?”

  He responded by spitting in Burt’s face. There were four other men being restrained as well, but they weren’t fighting like Craig was.

  Burt sighed. “This cannot be tolerated. I sentence all five of you to death. You will be executed immediately. Jimmy, lead them to the square. I’ll be there shortly.”

  Jimmy nodded, while the crowd watched in disbelief.

  Death? Molly thought. She ran to Burt as he went back into his house. “Burt! Death? Are you sure about this?”

  “Molly, for heaven’s sake, not now.”

  “But you have kids, Burt! Can you really kill five men?”

  He went to his gun cabinet and pulled out a 9mm handgun. “I can, and will. Molly, I’m a cop. I’ve done it before.” He turned to face her. “They would’ve killed me and my family today. And the attacks won’t quit until I stop them.”

  Molly knew he was right, but how could he live with himself after killing five people?

  “Maybe you can keep them prisoner and put them to work? The town can always use laborers.”

  He unlocked the cabinet where he kept the ammo. “The town doesn’t need more mouths to feed, particularly ungrateful ones.”

  Molly watched him load the weapon and walk out the front door. He’d made his decision, and Molly wasn’t sure she wanted to watch him go through with it.

  She went to the porch and saw Jimmy waiting with the prisoners. He made eye contact with her, but his stare was emotionless. She lowered her gaze and turned to go back inside.

  Burt’s family sat around their kitchen table, heads bowed, hands held. Praying for what? Molly wondered. For the souls of the men their father was about to dispatch? For their father to have the strength he needs? For themselves? For the town?

  She leaned against the doorframe, watching them. Who needs it most?

  23.

  It had been five days since Gary left Williamsburg. He was on the west side of 664, debating walking over to the Naval Reserve and seeing what was up. After what happened in D.C., he wasn’t sure of the reception he would receive. He wasn’t sure it was worth the risk. He would probably be better off going around it, although he risked missing out on valuable supplies and information. Decided, he started to pack up when a sound startled him. He fumbled for the Leatherman. A group of scruffy men came out of the brush, dangling various weapons from their hands. One had what looked like a broom handle, one had a hammer, one had a sharpened triangle of metal that might have come off of just about anything. Only one of them had a genuine weapon, a knife - a fairly large one at that, one you might use to skin a deer.

  Gary held the Leatherman in his left hand loosely, not to be too threatening, but to demonstrate that he wasn’t going down without a fight. “Can I help you with something, fellas?”

  “Looks like you’ve got a pretty nice setup here.” The man with the knife eyed Gary’s fire, the map spread out next to it, the pack on his back and his coat.

  “Can’t complain.”

  “Maybe you’d like to share with those...” he glanced at the men on either side of him and grinned, “a little less fortunate than you.” The other men laughed.

  “I don’t have any more food, fellas. You can check my pack. I caught the fish I ate this morning in the river. Sorry. I don’t have much to share.” He bent over and picked up the map and began folding it.

  The man with the knife let out a single chuckle. “You misunderstood what I meant by share. See, we want what you’ve got. And we tend to get what we want.”

  They moved in on him slowly from all sides. Gary could tell they meant to kill him, over a Leatherman, a map, a backpack, and some fishing line. That was what the value of his life was, apparently.

  He wasn’t going down without a fight.

  It became clear rather quickly that they’d done this before. They had a system. Intimidate, frighten, fight, kill. That was their process. Frankly, they were doing a good job with it. Fear threatened to choke Gary as they closed in. The man with the broom handle held it in his left hand and smacked his right with it. The man with the sharpened metal smiled menacingly. The man with the hammer choked up on the handle and narrowed his eyes. He considered Gary a task that needed doing. The others enjoyed it.

  They didn’t come at him all at once. It was a matter of entertainment, not efficiency. The man with the broom handle went first. He was strong, but not terribly coordinated. Gary blocked his attack easily and stabbed him with the knife in the Leatherman. He recoiled and Gary turned to face the guy with the metal. Gary didn’t think he could really stab with it. He’d have to slash, and hit something major, like the neck, to do any real damage. So, Gary tried to tire him out.
He let the man wave wildly, missing, mostly. He got Gary once in the arm, and once across the back, but with all the adrenaline pumping, Gary didn’t feel it much.

  After one poorly timed slash, Gary was able to grab the man’s wrist and stab him hard in the stomach. He wretched much the same way the man with the broom handle had, and slumped away.

  The man with the knife sighed impatiently. “Enough of this. Lou, finish up here, would ya? I have other things to do today.” A smile crossed his face as he looked at Gary. “Like fish.”

  Lou circled Gary a bit before he moved in. Gary was at the disadvantage. Lou had watched Gary fight the first two; he knew his strengths and weaknesses, knew he was getting tired, that the adrenaline was wearing off. Gary looked wildly from Lou’s face to his hammer, trying to anticipate what he might do.

  To his credit, he didn’t drag it out. He circled, and Gary became impatient, so he slashed his knife at the man. He seized the opportunity and drove his hammer into Gary’s back, knocking him to the ground, but not unconscious. The backpack offered little protection, as it was mostly empty by that point. The pain was unimaginable. It consumed Gary. He thought he might be sick.

  But Lou wasn’t done. He kicked Gary’s ribs, stomach, and back. Gary curled into a ball, trying to protect himself, but then Lou turned the hammer on Gary’s legs and arms. Gary could taste blood before he started to lose consciousness.

  He heard the man with the knife approach. “Good work, Lou. Now, let’s see if he was worth all that trouble, hmm?”

  He didn’t hear Lou’s response before he blacked out.

  When Gary woke up it was dark. He shivered. He looked down to discover he was naked, save for boxer shorts. He turned to see where he was, but the pain that resulted consumed him, and he blacked out again.