Brace for Impact

by Harley Tate

  Georgia Memorial Hospital

  Downtown Atlanta

  Saturday, 7:00 a.m.

  Leah woke up to pain radiating down her neck. Sleeping curled up in a ball in a threadbare chair might not have been the best strategy. She rubbed the knot in her muscle and sat up.

  The breakroom could have been a refugee camp. Nurses and doctors slept in every available chair, using their lab coats or extra hospital sheets as blankets.

  Leah stood up, wincing as her legs ached in protest. After fishing out a backup pair of scrubs from her locker, she cleaned up and changed in the bathroom.

  With a tight ponytail, clean face, and new clothes, she almost felt human. Tiptoeing around the sleeping bodies, she searched for Dr. Phillips. He wasn’t there. Guess she would be heading out alone. Leah packed her things as quietly as possible and slung her duffel across her body.

  It would be a long trek to her sister’s place in Hampton, but Leah would get there. She promised Grant.

  As she walked toward the hall, a shadow fell across the doorway. Dr. Phillips. Leah almost didn’t recognize him in street clothes. With running shoes, jeans, and a sweatshirt, he looked a decade younger. She smiled and walked over.

  “Are you ready?”

  She nodded.

  “Then we should go.”

  Together, they walked toward the employee entrance on the east side of the first floor.

  “You sure about leaving?”

  Dr. Phillips glanced at Leah. “Of course. Aren’t you?”

  Leah hesitated. “They could use our help.”

  “I’m sure that’s true. But I’ve pulled a forty-eight-hour shift and you worked twenty at least. We need to go home to our families. They need us, too.”

  Leah turned to look behind her. The hospital had quieted overnight. Without the usual influx of ambulances and EMTs, the ER was almost peaceful. “I guess you’re right.”

  Dr. Phillips opened the door and Leah stepped out onto the sidewalk. She stopped and tapped her head. “I forgot my car’s in the deck. I should check to see if it starts.”

  “It won’t.” Dr. Phillips took off walking down the sidewalk and after a moment, Leah caught up. “I’ve been awake for a while. I talked to the staff. No one’s vehicles work. I tried mine; no luck.”

  “But someone said older cars still functioned.” Leah tried to remember who it was and more of the conversation, but it was all a blur. Exhaustion always wrecked her memory.

  Dr. Phillips shrugged. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find one. Until then, we’re walking.”

  Leah cast a sideways glance at the doctor as they walked. Without his lab coat, she could see he kept in shape. Strong legs, capable arms. The wrinkles around his eyes and the highlights in his brown hair spoke of time in the sun. “So where do you live?”

  “On the north side of town, just past the malls. You?”

  “Outside the perimeter. But I’m heading to my sister’s place in Hampton.”

  Dr. Phillips whistled. “That’s forty miles.”

  “I know.”

  “We’ll need to find a car.”

  “Dr Phillips, I don’t—”

  He stopped walking. “Andy. Call me Andy.”

  Leah opened her mouth, but turned the shock into a smile. “Leah.”

  “Nice you meet you, Leah.” The doctor stuck out his hand and she shook it with a laugh.

  “Now what’s this about not finding a car?”

  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and resumed walking. “I don’t know if I’m ready to start stealing.”

  Andy nodded. “Fair enough.” They walked to the corner and glanced both ways before crossing the street. Eight in the morning on a Saturday, downtown was ordinarily a ghost town. Today, cars littered the street, stalled out from the EMP the night before.

  People slept in their back seats, still wearing suits from their fancy jobs in the high-rises all above them. One woman sat in the driver’s seat of a BMW, pushing the start button over and over.

  Leah and Andy avoided her as they snaked through the tangled mess. They turned the corner and headed north toward midtown.

  “So tell me about you.”

  Leah snorted. “Me? I’m boring.”

  “Nonsense. There’s got to be something.”

  Leah ran through the basics. “I’ve worked at Georgia Memorial for three years. I’m married, no kids. Live just outside the city in a cookie-cutter subdivision.” She shrugged. “See? Dull as a doornail.”

  Andy gave her a nudge. “Come on. Think bigger. What do you do for fun?”

  She smacked her lips. “Read?”

  “There we go. What types of books? You strike me as the thriller sort.”

  “You’ll laugh.”

  He fixed the doctor look on her, the one that gets patients to tell them everything. She blurted it out. “Romance novels.”

  Andy laughed. “And here I thought you’d say something like self-help.”

  Leah rolled her eyes. “Your turn.”

  He held up a fist, sticking out a finger for every point. “Married. Live about five miles due north in an overpriced house in a good school district. Two fur kids, but we’re trying for the real deal. My wife’s name is Marley but if you call her that, she’ll shiv you.”

  Leah laughed. “I like your wife already.”

  “Everyone does.” His tone turned somber. “I need to get home.”

  “I know.”

  They lapsed into silence and picked up the pace, making it out of downtown and into midtown within the hour.

  As they crossed another congested street, Leah’s stomach growled.

  “Is that you or a bear cub in your duffel?”

  “Me, I’m afraid. I haven’t eaten in a while.”

  Andy surveyed the street. “Let’s change that.” He pointed at a restaurant with an open front door a hundred feet ahead.

  They slipped inside.

  Leah squinted and blinked, her eyes working overtime to adjust to the dim light.

  A burly man with a grease-stained apron approached from the back. “Can I help you?”

  “Are you open?”

  He nodded. “Cash only, limited service.”

  Andy spoke up. “Works for us.”

  Together they followed the man to the last empty table by the window. He cleared his throat. “I’ve got sandwiches. Ham, turkey, roast beef. White or wheat.”

  “Any breakfast?”

  He stared at Leah like she’d turned him to stone. “I said limited service. Take it or leave it.”

  Andy reached into his back pocket. “How much for a sandwich?”

  “Ten dollars. Chips are two dollars extra.”

  Leah grimaced at the prices. “Does that include cheese?”

  The man pinned her with the same look.

  “Guess not.” She rummaged through her bag and pulled out her wallet before counting her cash. She almost never carried any now that everywhere took cards. “I’ve only got seven.”

  Andy waved her off. “I’ve got enough.”

  “You sure?”

  He nodded and turned to the man. “I’ll take a ham on wheat and whatever chips you have.”

  Leah swallowed. “Turkey on white, please.”

  “Chips?”

  She glanced at Andy and he encouraged her. “Yes, please.”

  “Twenty-four dollars. Pay in advance.”

  The man waited while Andy counted up his money and placed it in his meaty palm. Then he turned without a word and walked away.

  “Not big on customer service, is he?”

  “I’m guessing he spends most of his time in the kitchen.” Leah pulled her coat closer and looked around the restaurant. Three other tables held customers. A pair of twenty-somethings in pajamas, an older woman alone, and a pair of police officers.

  Leah motioned at the cops. “Think they know anything?”

  Andy turned around to look. “More than we do, probably.”

  She ached to get
up and ask them if they knew what caused the blackout, and if what the guy from the phone company said were true. Her mind tripped over all the messages Grant left her while she was busy rocking preemies in the NICU and helping trauma patients in the ER.

  Her husband insisted she get out of the city as fast as she could, claiming she wasn’t safe and more things were going to happen. She wished he’d been clearer and explained what he knew. She didn’t understand why he was speaking in generalities.

  Was he in trouble? Were people listening? Fear iced down her spine. If something happened to Grant, how would she carry on? Leah jumped when two glasses of water thunked onto the table.

  The man who took her order pointed at them both. “No ice.”

  He stomped off and Leah took a chance. “I’ll be right back.”

  Before Andy could say anything, she walked over to the police officers and plastered on her most helpful, nonconfrontational smile. “Hi.”

  They eyed her with suspicion. The male officer inclined his head. “Hello.”

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but do you know anything about what happened last night? The power is still off and my car doesn’t work and—”

  The cop held up his hand. “All we know is that it’s widespread. Whatever knocked the power out did so up and down the East Coast.”

  Leah swallowed. That part was true. “No one’s said anything about what it could be?”

  The police shared a glance. “Nothing definite.”

  “Any word on when we’ll find out?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry.”

  Leah smiled and thanked them before heading back to the table. A turkey sandwich sat at her place along with a snack-size bag of Fritos. She held up the little bag. “Two dollars for this?”

  Andy shrugged as he took a bite of sandwich. “Guess price gouging’s already a thing.”

  Leah took a bite of her own sandwich and sighed. “At least it’s good.”

  She chomped down on her sandwich as Andy attacked his own. They cleared their plates and polished off their chips in record time.

  “You think he’s got any dessert?”

  “For twenty bucks, he’ll probably give you a lollipop.”

  Andy laughed, but the sound was cut off by a massive boom outside. Leah jumped to her feet. Across the street, flames leapt from the now-destroyed window.

  The female police officer keyed the radio on her shoulder and spoke into it. “One Adam fourteen, I have a code thirty-three at the intersection of Sage and Fourteenth.”

  The radio crackled. “Copy one Adam fourteen, sending any available units to your location.”

  The officer pulled her service weapon from its holster. Leah watched as both officers slipped from the restaurant and disappeared from view. She turned to Andy. “What’s going on?”

  He grabbed his bag. “I don’t want to stay to find out.”

  Chapter Eleven

  GRANT

  Suburbs of Charlotte, North Carolina

  Saturday, 8:00 a.m.

  Grant stretched and his arm hit a lamp shade behind him. He reached out and caught the base before the lamp crashed to the floor and woke the whole house. As he turned to sit up, a pair of little bare feet caught his eye.

  “Hello.”

  A boy of seven or eight stood in front of the couch wearing red and blue striped pajamas and a serious case of bed head. The kid tilted his head just like his mother. “Who are you?”

  Grant wiped the sleep from his eyes and smiled. “A friend of your mother’s.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I needed a place to sleep.”

  “Don’t you have a home?”

  Grant held back a laugh. Darlene’s son didn’t hesitate to ask what was on his mind. “I live in Atlanta. It’s a long way away.”

  The boy turned around without another word and padded into the kitchen. Grant watched him go before finding the bathroom down the hall. He splashed water on his face and took stock. Bags hung under his eyes. His hair stuck up in all directions. His clothes were rumpled.

  I look like a bum.

  He exhaled and replayed Leah’s voicemail from the night before. She was still downtown helping at the hospital. Grant clutched the sink as nausea roiled his stomach.

  He didn’t know if he should laugh, cry, or scream. Was he really putting his trust in a teenage kid who broke into third-party software on the web but couldn’t tie his shoes? Baker, the hacker who discovered the threat, wasn’t the most reliable source. If Grant were a police officer, he’d probably laugh the kid out of the building.

  But Midge took it seriously. Yeah, she was a hacker just like Baker, but she discounted him, too. It was only when she read the underlying documentation that she spooked. Grant pushed off the sink and clenched his fists. He had to assume it was real. He already told his boss to stuff it, left the conference, and stole a car. What choice did he have but to carry on?

  Grant reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He clicked it on and opened up the photos. His wife’s beautiful face stared out at him, blue eyes sparkling, hair like spun sunshine. If she stayed at the hospital and the bombs hit, surely she would die.

  Damn it. He should have told her everything he knew. Screw the potential panic or someone listening. He should have shouted from the rooftops about the nuclear threat and to get the hell out of the cities. Instead, he fumbled around like an idiot, telling her only that it was dangerous and she needed to be safe.

  I failed her, and for what? To not scare her?

  With the palms of his hands, he pressed on his shut eyes until they hurt. If Leah died it would be his fault. He brought his hands down and stared at himself again in the mirror. Was he really giving up now? Was he going to stand there and curse himself and call it hopeless?

  Grant squared his shoulders. No. I won’t let that happen. I will find a way to get to her. Leah won’t face the end alone.

  With a ragged exhale, Grant left the bathroom and made his way to the kitchen. The boy stood on a stool pouring cereal into a plastic bowl, the picture of normal, everyday life. Grant forced his panic down. Matthew and Darlene needed help, too. He couldn’t grab his bag and run without at least warning them. Leah would never forgive him.

  The boy struggled with the plastic sleeve in the box and Grant opened his mouth to offer help, but caught himself without saying a word. He remembered fiercely clinging to independence as a kid. When a grownup cut in, he always took it as an insult. Instead, he closed his mouth and leaned against the door frame, waiting.

  At last the boy finished closing the box and picked up the milk. As he poured it on his cereal, Grant eased into the room. “It’s Matthew, right?”

  The kid nodded before carrying his bowl to the table.

  “My name’s Grant.”

  Matthew slurped a spoonful of Cheerios into his mouth.

  “How’s your mom these days?”

  Matthew swallowed the bite. “She tries.”

  Grant blinked.

  “But she’s tired all the time. She works too hard and worries too much.”

  “It’s just you and her?”

  Matthew nodded before chomping down another spoonful.

  Grant hesitated. The kid seemed more levelheaded than his mother, but he was young. Could he handle what might be coming?

  The kid broke the silence. “Something bad happened, didn’t it?”

  “How do you know?”

  “Liv freaked out last night. When the lights went out, she couldn’t text anyone or get online. She said it was the end of the world.”

  “Because the internet was down?”

  Matthew nodded.

  Grant supposed a teenager would think that. Typing to friends and taking pictures to post online was the new pastime. No one under the age of twenty talked or hung out anymore. They just sat with their necks bent, furiously pecking at their phones like a row of birds.

  He hedged. “It’s not the end of the world, but something wo
rse is coming.” Grant leaned an arm on the table. “Do you know what a bomb is?”

  “Something that explodes. Hurts a lot of people.”

  Grant nodded. “A bomb might go off here, in Charlotte. A big one. If that happens, you’ll need to go in the basement and hide. Can you do that?”

  “Will my mom have to hide, too?”

  “Yes. Everyone will. For a few days until it’s safe to go out.”

  “Okay.” Matthew took another bite. “After that, will everything be back to normal?”

  “No.” Grant focused on the table and the grains of the dark wood. “Nothing will ever be back to normal again.”

  “Good.”

  Grant flicked his eyes up to meet Mathew’s solid stare. “Why?”

  “Because normal isn’t all that great.”

  “It’ll be hard.”

  “I know.”

  Grant marveled at the little guy. If anyone could make it through what happened next, Matthew could. He pushed up to stand. “Will you be all right?”

  Matthew nodded.

  “I’m going to clean up and head out. Tell your mom thanks for the couch.” He walked back to the living room and opened his suitcase. He pulled out the workout gear he never had a chance to use at the conference and his toiletry kit, and returned to the hall bath.

  A half an hour later, Grant emerged clean and ready. He packed his suitcase with everything except a bottle of Gatorade and a granola bar and walked to the door. Matthew stood in the archway to the kitchen, watching.

  “Remember what I said. Get in the basement and stay there.”

  “I will.”

  Grant nodded at him and walked outside. The cold morning air bit into his sweatshirt and he hustled to the car. He tossed the suitcase into the back seat before sliding into the driver’s seat. The front curtain fluttered as he tapped the two starter wires together.

  As he sat back up, Darlene rushed from the house. Grant rolled down the window.

  “You’re leaving.”

  He nodded. “I need to find Leah.”

  Darlene pulled a bathrobe tight around her middle. Without makeup and her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she seemed so small and vulnerable. Grant swallowed. He couldn’t stay even if she needed him to.