by Harley Tate
Grant shrugged. “I tried everything.”
Darlene leaned back in the seat. “What’s going on? First the power, then the cars?”
“It’s more than a blackout, that’s for sure.” Grant stepped back and Darlene eased from the car with her purse in one hand and useless keys in the other. “I have to get home. My kid’s with a sitter. She charges for every five minutes I’m late.”
Grant motioned to the office. “How about we try a few more cars? One of them has to work.”
Darlene nodded and let Grant back into the office through the rear entrance. She turned on the flashlight she’d left by the door and together they picked out handfuls of keys.
Fifteen minutes later, they regrouped at the counter with a pile of discarded keys and no luck.
Darlene snuffed snot back into her throat. “My son is going to be worried sick. He never goes to bed until I tuck him in.”
Grant pulled out his phone and tried to call his wife. Instead of the fast busy signal, a recording he hadn’t heard in years played in a loop. All circuits are busy. Please try your call again. He shoved his phone back in his pocket with a frown. “Do you have any other cars? Anything else we could try?”
Darlene shook her head. “What’s the use? They won’t work.” She palmed her forehead in exasperation. “How does every car stop working all at once?”
Grant gave a start. “It’s not every car.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I got here in a cab.” Grant scanned his memory, trying to parse out the differences between the cab and the cars on the lot. He clapped his hands when he placed it. “It was old. A real beater. Late seventies, early eighties maybe. It didn’t even have power windows.”
Darlene chewed on a fingernail, wrecking the polish. “You think being old had something to do with it?”
“Had to.” Grant thought it over. “Lack of computers, maybe? Cars were a lot simpler back then.”
“How could a blackout fry the electronics in a car?”
“I don’t know.” He thought about what Baker told him so many hours ago standing outside the Charlotte airport. Could a nuclear bomb do this? Was he already too late?
I can’t wait around here to find out. He turned to Darlene. “Got anything with a simple engine around here?”
She turned toward the windows and thought it over. After a moment, she answered with hesitation. “The daily lot probably does.”
“They house rentals there?”
“No.”
“I’m not following.”
She pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “Lots of people park at the airport to take a flight.”
Grant’s eyes narrowed. “You mean we could steal one.”
Her eyes cut to his face. “I was thinking more borrow, but yeah.”
Grant pinched the bridge of his nose. Steal a car? He’d made a point of never breaking the law. Not even as a kid. He might have faked a stomach bug to get out of a test or lied when his mother-in-law asked if he liked dinner, but he’d never committed a crime.
“Stealing a car is a felony.”
Darlene rubbed her eyes and smeared mascara onto her cheeks. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking straight.” She turned to look at the parking lot. “I just need to get home.”
“Then I say we hike to the airport, see if we can find another working cab. It might take a while, but we’ll find one eventually.”
She nodded. “All right. I know the way. As long as we stay on the road, we can get back to the airport even in the dark.”
Grant picked up his suitcase and headed toward the back door when a shout stopped him still.
Chapter Seven
GRANT
Rental Car Facility, Charlotte International Airport
Charlotte, North Carolina
Friday, 10:00 p.m.
Grant grabbed Darlene by the shoulder and dragged her down beneath the counter. He stole the flashlight from her limp grip and turned it off.
“What are you doing?”
“Keeping us safe.”
The shouts increased. “Look at all the cars on the lot! They’ve got to have some that work!”
The front door jiggled. “Open up, damn it! We need to get out of here!”
In the dark without the flashlight, Darlene wasn’t much more than a trembling shape beside Grant. He shifted his weight on his heels. “We can wait this out. Once they give up and leave, we can walk to the daily lot.”
More fists pounded on the glass and Darlene shuddered. “What if they don’t leave?”
“Then we run for it.”
“The only other exit is the back door.”
“Is it secure?”
“It locks automatically.”
“Good.” Grant didn’t want to be stuck in the office any longer than he had to, but not worrying about a mob rushing them from behind helped him focus. He’d dealt with angry jerks before both in the military and for WelSoft. Conferences could turn unruly when prizes were held back on technical grounds.
He’d had to break up more than one fight between a furious hacker and a company man. But that was one-on-one. Two at the most. He’d never faced a mob.
The shouts rose and fell outside as people tried the door again and again. They weren’t giving up. A woman’s voice carried over the dull rumbling. “Please, if you’re in there, we need cars! We need to get home!”
“We have children!”
“Come on! We’ll pay for a rental!”
Darlene shifted beside Grant, but he reached out and fumbled for her arm. “Don’t.”
“Those people sound desperate. I should at least tell them the cars don’t work. Then they’ll go away.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Of course it is. We don’t have cars. Once they hear that, what can they do?”
“Lots of things.” Grant held onto Darlene’s forearm with enough force to keep her from standing. “What did you suggest only a few minutes ago?”
Her answer came out hushed. “To steal a car that’s running.”
“Exactly. You think these people haven’t thought the same thing? Aren’t thinking it right now? Hell, I bet a few of them are trying to find a way inside.”
Darlene shrank back. “You mean break in?”
“If you thought it was the only way to get home, wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t know…” She trailed off and Grant let go of her arm.
“We need to be ready to run. Do you know how to get to the airport without being seen?”
Darlene was silent for a moment. “I think so. If we go out the back, we can skirt along the cars and then take the access road into the parking deck. It’s restricted access for vehicles. There’s a crossing arm that’s key card activated, but we can duck underneath it on foot. Then we cut through the deck and we’ll be at the airport.”
“Good. Do you have all your things?”
“My purse… I guess I can take the flashlight… I don’t know what else.”
Grant thought it over. “Is there a breakroom?”
“In the back.”
“Food?”
Darlene exhaled loud enough for Grant to hear. “Some sodas and maybe a bit of stuff in the fridge.”
“Grab everything and meet me by the back door in five minutes.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Search for anything we can use.” He turned toward the counter and used his fingers to feel across the shelves as Darlene scooted away into the back. Stacks of papers. A stapler. Nothing useful at all.
There had to be something. Grant turned around toward the back when he noticed the people outside weren’t yelling anymore. He rose enough above the counter to risk a quick look out. A handful of lights glowed in the parking lot: cigarettes and cell phones.
Maybe they got tired of yelling and banging their fists on the glass. Grant doubted the angry mob was giving up. It was never that easy. He sneaked into the hall behind the counter a
nd opened the first door. It was too dark inside to see a thing.
With short, sliding steps, he eased into the room. His foot hit something hard. A desk.
Must be the manager’s office.
Grant worked his way around the slab of wood and wheeled out the chair before sitting down. One at a time, he rifled through the drawers, coming up with a handful of snack bars and what felt like a half-empty six-pack of Gatorade.
In the second drawer, he found a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He added the lighter to the stack. In the top drawer, all he came up with was a box of paper clips, of which he pilfered a few.
Before he left the room, Grant pulled his wallet from his jeans and teased out what he hoped was a five-dollar bill. He set it on the middle of the desk, gathered his newfound items, and worked his way back to the hallway.
As he stepped through the doorway, he almost collided with Darlene. “What are you doing? I told you to wait at the back door.”
“Why are you in Randall’s office?”
Grant held up the food. “Gathering supplies. Don’t worry, I paid for them.”
“You shouldn’t have. He’s a jerk.”
Grant snorted. “Too late. Did you find anything?”
Darlene held up a bag. “Six sodas and a pack of string cheese.”
After adding his haul to the bag, Grant followed Darlene down the hall to the rear door. “You ready?”
“I guess. What do we do if someone’s outside?”
As Grant opened his mouth to answer, a terrific crash stole his breath. The front window shattered to the floor as a brick skittered to a stop a few feet from his foot. He turned to Darlene. “We run. Come on.”
Together, they busted out the rear door as shouts and whoops echoed down the hallway. Darlene pointed the way as Grant hoisted his suitcase in one hand and the bag of food in the other.
With Darlene in the lead, they rushed toward the line of parked cars and a modicum of cover. Angry airline passengers flooded out of the building behind them as Grant ducked behind a compact Toyota.
The lights from cell phones bounced all over the parking lot and Grant crouched low enough to hide behind the trunk. Darlene did the same three cars away. He hissed in her direction. “How far?”
“A hundred yards to the end of the row.”
“Go.” Grant followed Darlene’s shadow as people shouted about makes and models of cars.
A car door slammed, followed by another, and another. The mob was gaining on them. Grant picked up the pace and the plastic bag of food crinkled as it bobbed in the air. By the time he reached the end of the row, his breath sawed in and out of his lungs.
Darlene could barely speak. “T-That way.” She pointed parallel to the cars. In the moonlight, Grant could make out a yellow crossing arm.
“Is that the access road?”
Darlene nodded.
More shouts erupted behind them. “They don’t work! None of them work!”
Someone laid on a horn. More glass shattered. It was turning into a riot. Grant tapped Darlene on the back. “Let’s go.”
They took off together, risking discovery to angle across the rest of the parking lot. Darlene ducked underneath the crossing arm and Grant followed. Neither stopped running until the lights bouncing around the parking lot were smaller than fireflies.
Grant clutched at his legs above the knees. “I need a minute.” Too many days spent behind a desk and not enough miles on the treadmill. He heaved. “How far to the airport?”
Darlene huffed a few times before speaking. “At least a mile.”
“All right.” Grant picked up his suitcase once more and started down the road. “We won’t get there standing around.”
Darlene caught up after a moment, holding her shoes in her right hand. “I can’t run anymore in heels.”
They hurried the rest of the way in silence, ears open for any sound of an oncoming vehicle or an angry mob. By the time they reached the parking deck, sweat coated Grant’s back and he’d been forced to stuff his jacket in his suitcase.
Darlene didn’t fare much better. Her hairline was damp and she tied her suit jacket around her waist. Grant hated to think how the bottom of her feet fared.
She pointed at the deck. “We can snake through the daily lot and come out at the taxi stand.”
Grant nodded.
“You really think there’ll be a taxi left?”
Grant scratched at his head. “We can hope, right?”
They eased through the lot, moving around row after row of parked cars until the glow of lights stopped them still. Darlene ducked behind a sedan while Grant eased forward. The airport had devolved into chaos.
Thousands of people milled around outside, talking, smoking, pointing at the sky. Some even stood in the middle of the road, daring nonexistent cars to run them over.
“What’s going on?” Darlene crouched beside Grant at the front fender of the car.
“Looks like no flights have taken off.”
“The taxi stand is full of cars.”
Grant frowned as he scanned the row of shiny, late-model vehicles. Not a single driver stood beside one waiting for a fare. “None of them are working.”
Damn it. He had to get out of Charlotte, but without a working vehicle, he would never make it home. He ran a hand over his head and closed his eyes. There was only one option, even though he hated to use it.
Grant exhaled and turned to Darlene. “Let’s find a car.”
She blinked. “You mean to steal?”
“I was thinking more borrow, but yeah.”
Darlene smiled and Grant couldn’t help but smile back. She squared her shoulders. “Old, right? No computers inside?”
Grant nodded. “As old as we can find.”
They split up, canvassing the parking deck in search of a vehicle that might still turn over. Grant spied one first. He let out a low whistle and waited.
Darlene tracked him down. “Find something?”
He pointed at a gold floater of a sedan with a grin. “A 1977 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme.”
Darlene raised an eyebrow.
“First car I ever drove. This one’s even got the spoke wheels.” He walked over to it and tried the door handle. It didn’t open.
Grant set his suitcase down and unzipped it. He pulled out his suit and eased it off the hanger from the dry cleaners. He stared at the twisted piece of metal as he made his decision.
Darlene stood beside the car, waiting.
“You keep watch. It’ll take me a minute to break in.”
Chapter Eight
LEAH
Georgia Memorial Hospital
Downtown Atlanta
Saturday, 12:15 a.m.
Leah fell into a chair in the employee breakroom and chugged a bottle of water. For hours, she’d been torn between trying to find a way out of the city and helping as much as she could. So far, helping won out.
Dead on her feet, she didn’t know how much longer she could work without collapsing. She closed her eyes and visions of a nuclear bomb exploding overhead shot them back open. Did a bomb really go off in the atmosphere?
Was that why cars and incubators and most of the hospital’s equipment didn’t work? Leah unwrapped a squished granola bar she found in the bottom of her purse and chewed in silence. What about radiation? Fallout? Did any of that matter?
She checked her watch. After midnight already. Leah had been working for nineteen hours.
“You look like I feel.”
Leah twisted around in the chair. “That bad, huh?”
Dr. Phillips leaned against the lockers with an exhausted smile. “Thanks for helping with the pediatric patient earlier. Is your shoulder all right?”
My shoulder? Leah glanced down and remembered. “It’s fine. I’ve helped so many patients since then I forgot all about it. Is the girl okay?”
“Should be. She was breathing on her own, so we discharged her a few hours ago.” The doctor fished a pack of cigarettes out
of his coat. “Want to take a break?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t smoke.”
He focused on the pack with a frown. “I don’t very often. But a day like today, all bets are off.” He glanced back up. “You sure you don’t want some fresh air? I’ll stay downwind.”
Leah pushed off the chair. The thought of cold air lifted her spirits. “Why not? I haven’t been outside in hours.” She tugged her coat from her locker and shoved her purse back inside before following Dr. Phillips toward the stairs.
They hiked up six flights and walked down the dark halls to the side entrance for the employee level of the parking deck. Dr. Phillips opened the door and a blast of chilly night air hit Leah in the face. She stepped out and the doctor followed.
He lit a cigarette and sucked in a massive drag. His shoulders fell in gratitude. “Gets me every time.”
Leah walked over to the retaining wall and stared out at the city. She swallowed. Thanks to the millions of lights downtown, the sky usually glowed purple even in the middle of the night. Now all she saw was darkness below her and a billion stars above her.
The feeble backup lights of the hospital barely lit the sidewalk. As far as she could see, darkness reigned. Every now and then, some small hint of light caught her eye, but nothing like it used to be. Were those lanterns? Flashlights? Cars that still worked? She didn’t know.
Dr. Phillips joined her and let out a low whistle. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this is the end of the world.”
Leah shuddered. “What makes you think it isn’t?”
The doctor took another drag. “It can’t be. We would have an alert on our phones or someone from the hospital would have said something. It’s a blackout, that’s all.”
“What if it’s bigger than that?” Leah thought about the man in the hospital and all the texts and messages from her husband. “What if the whole country’s affected?”
“Impossible.”
Leah hesitated. At last, she couldn’t help herself. She needed someone to talk to. “A patient came in earlier. He claimed this was all due to a bomb.”
