Survival EMP (Book 1): Solar Reboot

by Hunt, Matthew D.

  “Nope. Stopped them just in time. Hey, mind if I get one of those?”

  Heath raised his eyes in surprise. “You’re a smoker? Most you city folk quit when you have kids.”

  “I did, a long time ago. It’s just, that’s the closest I’ve gotten to a fight in more years than I can remember.”

  Heath chuckled, handed him the lit cigarette from his mouth—Alex chose to imagine the filter was wet from the rain—and lit another for himself. Together they moved under the awning that covered the walkway in front of all the hotel rooms, and smoked in silence. Alex’s eyes roved across the hotel, the dim lights shining from a few windows, and the cars clustered together under the single dim bulb above. Then his gaze went to the roof, and he saw a wide metal antenna jutting up into the darkness.

  “That’s a radio antenna,” he said, pointing.

  Heath glanced up. “Sure is. Got us a setup in the offices. You a radio man?”

  “I’m a forest ranger. And I’ve got my own setup at home. Could I use your rig? I haven’t been able to talk to my wife for a few days now.”

  “Hm.” Heath took a long pull at his cigarette. “Don’t usually let guests use it. You sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “I use one every day on my job. You’ve got nothing to worry about. I just want to call home.”

  Heath took another long drag, saying nothing. But then he tossed the cigarette into the gutter and turned, tossing his head for Alex to follow.

  In the hotel’s front office, Heath went to the desk to stow his shotgun behind it. Then he opened the back door, and Alex followed him through into a hallways that was claustrophobic in every direction but forward. They passed two rooms with entirely different, unpleasant smells—one chemical and antiseptic, the other musky and rotten—before they came to a padlocked door at the end of the hall. Heath was careful to cover the lock with his body as he spun the dial. After a moment it clicked, and the door swung open.

  Stepping inside, Alex was pleased to find this room, at least, was fairly odorless, with only a faint whiff of electronic ozone. There was Heath’s rig, and though dust had collected in the room’s corners and rested on the shelves that lined the walls, the radio itself was polished and bright. It was an ancient-looking model, probably older than Alex was, though not as old as Heath.

  “There she be,” said Heath. “Have at it.”

  Alex sat down eagerly, and spun the dials to tune in to his home frequency. The radio in their cabin was always tuned the same, unless Cameron had changed the settings—which she wouldn’t have. She’d have turned it on and left it going—probably with the volume turned near to full, so she could hear him from anywhere in the cabin if he happened to call.

  “This is WA7OB looking for N7QJM.”

  The radio buzzed with static. Alex glanced over his shoulder. Heath was in the doorway, arms folded.

  “WA7OB looking for N7QJM. Cameron, you there?”

  Still silence. Of course, he couldn’t have expected too much. She would certainly have reached the cabin by now, but he doubted she’d be sitting in the basement waiting for his voice to come in. She might be relaxing at the end of the day. Heck, she might be asleep. Heath gave up after about fifteen minutes and left him alone, then returned with a pair of beers and offered him one. Alex took it, but only sipped lightly as he kept trying to reach Cameron.

  After twenty minutes he decided to change tack. He knew the emergency frequency of the stations in the area, so he tuned in to one. “WA7OB looking for W5YI. W5YI, come in.”

  For a moment, there was only buzzing static. Alex was about to call out again, but then a voice crackled out of the speakers. “WA7OB, this is W5YI. Alex, is that you?”

  Alex felt weak and sagged in his seat. “Brent. Holy…it’s good to hear you.”

  “Good to hear you, too, Alex. Everything okay in your neck of the woods?”

  “I’m not in my neck of the woods, Brent. I’m with my daughter in Illinois. We’re making our way back to the west coast, but we can’t fly.”

  “No, you certainly can’t. Well, what can I do for you?”

  Alex leaned in. “There’s a cabin community. It’s about…I think it’s about twenty miles southwest of you? I’ve got a place there, and my wife should be staying there. I haven’t been able to reach her. Phones are down.”

  “You want a check-in?”

  “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  Brent’s chuckle came out tinny and thin on the speakers. “Trouble? There’s nothing to do up here. No one’s hiking or camping. There’s too much rain for fires, but not enough for floods. At least not yet. I’ll be grateful for the diversion. I’ll try to get down there tomorrow, all right?”

  “Thanks, Brent. Her name’s Cameron. The cabin community’s called Widebrook.”

  “I know it. Anything you want me to tell her?”

  “Tell her Piper and I are find, and we’re on our way. Not sure how long it’ll take us, but we’ll see her soon.”

  “10-4. W5YI out.”

  Alex put the receiver down on the desk and swiped at his forehead—it was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. He hadn’t realized—or hadn’t let himself realize—just how worried he was about Cameron. Of course, he didn’t know any more about her status than he had before, but now at least she’d know something about his.

  “All done?” said Heath behind him. The man had clearly grown impatient while waiting for Alex to finish.

  Alex gave him a weak smile. “Would it be too much trouble if I kept trying to reach my wife directly?” As Heath’s eyes narrowed slightly, Alex hastily dug out his wallet. “Hey, listen, I appreciate you’re doing me a favor. How about I give you an extra fifty bucks for the trouble?”

  Heath took the fifty, but he still regarded Alex with suspicion. “It ain’t about money. I can’t stay here the whole night to watch you, and if you’re the stealing type, there’s a lotta stuff here worth more than just fifty bucks.”

  Paranoid much? thought Alex. But then he remembered Heath coming to his rescue with the shotgun. He reached into his wallet again. “Here you go. Driver’s license, and both my credit cards. Hang on to them—plus the fifty. When I’m done, you check the place out. If even one cord’s out of place, you keep the money.”

  Though he kept his frown, Heath eventually shrugged and shoved the cards and cash into his shirt breast pocket. Then he ambled out the door and down the hall toward the front desk, leaving Alex to tune the radio back to his home frequency.

  He eyed his watch fitfully as he kept the broadcast up, asking for Cameron again and again by callsign. The night wore on, two hours passing with no response. His eyelids were starting to drag, and he caught himself nodding more than once. Just as he was about to give up for the night, a voice crackled in the speakers, and he sat up straight.

  “WA7OB, this is KK4SWV. Sorry I’m not who you’re looking for, but I heard you while scanning.”

  Alex lowered his head to the desk, muttering out of the side of his mouth into the receiver. “Roger, KK4SWV. Sorry, but you got my hopes up.”

  There was a slight chuckle in the man’s voice as he replied. “My apologies. Just hate to hear a man shouting into the void with no one there to hear him. Who you trying to reach?”

  “My wife in Washington state. What are you doing up so late?”

  “Early, actually. I’m in Ames, Iowa. I always get up early to watch the sunrise.”

  “You got a good view of the sunrise from your radio?”

  That earned a sharp laugh. “All right, the sunrise ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. I like to check in on the radio before I start my day. Name’s Pete.”

  Alex smiled. “I’m Alex. Ames, huh? I’m in Normal Illinois right now.”

  “Heading for Washington? Why, you’re going to pass right through our area. If you want, you feel free to swing on by for a meal. It’ll be better than trying to get a meal at some restaurant. The town’s a little more dangerous than it has been.” />
  An idea struck Alex, and he leaned in. “I’d be happy to take you up on that, Pete. And…if it’s not too much to ask, could you do me one more favor? If you’re around the radio at all, could you keep an ear on this frequency? My wife might try to reach me on it.”

  “Well, I’m not here all day,” said Pete. “But sure. I’ll keep the receiver open while I’m puttering around.”

  They exchanged information—Alex providing Cameron’s callsign, and Pete providing his home address. When they logged off at the end, Alex felt a wave of relief that easily overrode his exhaustion after the long night. He rose and stumbled back to his room, falling into his bed and passing out immediately despite the sliver of grey dawn that tried to peek in through the curtains.

  CHAPTER 10

  The day after the “council” with Bill, Cameron’s mood hadn’t improved any. She and Bettie set out into the garden once more, and she attacked the soil with her hoe. Over and over she felt the urge to march down to the gatehouse and describe the multitudinous ways in which Bill was a stoat sphincter, but each time she repressed it. What with the weather, the lack of any outside communication, and the troubles that plagued the world outside, she figured interpersonal fighting was the last thing their cabin community needed just then.

  She’d dealt with bigger assholes than Bill in the service. He wouldn’t get to her now.

  Bettie must have noticed Cameron’s mood, but she was smart enough not to ask about it. Or maybe she already knew Cameron was still angry at Bill, and she just didn’t care enough to get involved. It certainly didn’t seem to bother her that Bill was a racist prick, though Cameron didn’t know how that didn’t rankle the old woman till she screamed.

  They spoke rarely, and then only to ask each other to hand over this tool or that. They remarked on the sweat of their work or expressed thanks for the cool air that kept them from exhaustion. At noon they fixed lunch together, Bettie mixing a salad while Cameron threw together some sandwiches, and not a sentence was uttered more profound than “Can you hand me the pepper?”

  Thus Cameron thought the whole day might pass without anything important happening.

  And then they heard the screeching tires.

  Screee. They were gone in an instant. Just one sharp blast. But their heads snapped up at the sound, and they stared in the direction of the cabin community’s gate. Because there was no question: that was where the sound had come from.

  They looked at each other, and then they made for the Jeep. Not running, exactly, but no leisurely walk either. It was that quiet hurry when you know something is wrong, but you don’t want to admit it, because admitting it will make it real. So you walk, as quick as you can, but your heart is pulsing and you’re wondering just how bad it’s going to be.

  Cameron hit the gas just a bit harder than she had to, and thundered down the road toward the front of the community with Bettie gripping the handle above her head. They saw the commotion long before they reached the gate: Bill standing just inside, next to the gatehouse. He was holding a shotgun, because of course he was, and he was shouting at someone through the gate. A few someones, in fact, because there was a gunmetal-gray pickup truck just outside. The driver had gotten out and had his hands up, and there were two other figures opposite him on the passenger side of the truck.

  And then Cameron didn’t see anything for a few moments. Because her eyes were fixed on the driver, and her mind was trying to process his face, and her mouth wouldn’t move.

  “Wade?” she finally managed to stammer.

  “What?” said Bettie.

  “Someone I know. From work.”

  Bettie leaned forward, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening as she peered through the windshield. “From Seattle?”

  “Stay here.”

  Cameron pulled the car to a stop a few yards short of the gate and got out. Bill was in the middle of a heated tirade, but the moment he heard Cameron’s car door slam shut, his lips stopped flapping and he looked back at her. His eyes squinted.

  “Go on back to your cabin till I sort this out,” he growled.

  She ignored him, and only barely resisted giving him a dirty look. “Wade? What are you doing here?”

  Relief crashed across his features like a wave on rocks. “Cameron. Thank god.”

  Bill squinted harder. “You two know each other?”

  “You’re quick, Bill. Wade, what’s going on?”

  “I found them on the road,” said Wade, pointing to the family still in the truck. “And the daughter…”

  That’s when Cameron heard it. Whimpers of pain coming from the back seat of the pickup truck.

  She ran forward, making for the gatehouse.

  “Don’t you open that gate!” roared Bill.

  Cameron opened the gate.

  * * *

  The father had been riding shotgun, where he’d been glaring at Bill during the exchange. The mother was in the back seat, trying to make the daughter as comfortable as possible. Hasty introductions on the way inside told Cameron they were the Williams family, with Chad and Carla being the parents.

  “And what’s your name, sweetheart?” said Cameron. She’d jumped in the back seat of the pickup while Wade drove. She could always return for her Jeep later.

  “Naomi.” The girl’s face was pale, her arm clutched to her chest.

  “Naomi, I need to check your arm out. Can you hold it still for me, and tell me if I do something that hurts?”

  She didn’t need to ask. The moment she touched the spot where Naomi’s arm seemed to bulge in an odd way, the girl cried out and recoiled from Cameron’s hand. Carla’s hands jerked, a motherly instinct to protect her daughter, though quickly mastered.

  “Okay. It looks like this is broken. Wade, make for that cabin there. That’s mine.”

  They parked. Under Cameron’s direction, Chad picked Naomi and carried her inside, being careful not to jostle the arm. Cameron had her sit in one of the dining room chairs, her arm laid out flat on the table. Though the girl whimpered every time Cameron touched it, and tears rolled down her face, she didn’t move to get away.

  Cameron gave her a smile. “You’re being really brave, Naomi. Seriously. But I’m gonna need you to be even braver. I have to push your bone back into place.”

  Naomi blinked. “Will it hurt?”

  A lot of people thought it was best to lie to kids. Cameron wasn’t one of them. “Yes. It’s going to hurt a lot. You can hold your dad’s hand, and you can squeeze it as hard as you want. Although, try not to break it.”

  To her surprise, Naomi gasped out a quick laugh. That was good. The girl had some serious steel. Chad came up and took Naomi’s hand. Carla paced behind them both, chewing on her fingernails as she watched.

  “Are you ready?” said Cameron.

  “Can you…count down or something?”

  Cameron grimaced. “No.”

  She pushed the bone back into place. Naomi screamed, and Carla put her hands over her ears. Chad winced as Naomi crushed his fingers in her grip. But Cameron held it in place, and Naomi didn’t try to drag her arm away, and in a second her screams died out.

  “Good,” Cameron murmured. “I’m sorry about that. You would have tensed up if I counted, and that would have made it harder. But the bone’s set now. I’m going to give you a splint to hold it in place. Wade?”

  She motioned to him as she rose and went to the back of the house, where she had some backup medical supplies stashed. As she dug through them for a splint and some bandages, she started asking questions.

  “What in the hell brought you here, Wade?”

  He shrugged. “I remember you mentioning the name of the place. Managed to pull the name up on a GPS before the Internet went down.”

  “Went down where? And why would you come here?”

  Wade didn’t answer for a second. Cameron stopped her search and looked back at him. His look had gone dark, and in the set of his brow she saw a truth he didn’t want to say.

&n
bsp; “Wade? What is it?”

  “I guess you didn’t hear, then. I was in Leavenworth for the weekend. When the storms started, and the planes went down, I started heading back to Seattle. But then…Cameron, Seattle’s mostly gone.”

  Again she froze in her search, but this time it was involuntary. She stared at her hands for a moment, trying to understand what the words meant. Then she stared at him.

  “Gone?”

  “Mostly. Storms kicked up some kind of killer tidal wave. It swept in and…well, a lot of people died, Cam. Then the few who were left went crazy—the ones who didn’t leave, that is. Riots, civil unrest, the whole deal. It’s a wasteland.”

  “Jesus,” she whispered. “The hospital—”

  He shook his head immediately. “Don’t even think about it. I thought the same thing. It’s gone, Cam. The building was hit hard. It’s not even safe anymore. I doubt anyone’s still there, and if they are, they’re keeping their head down, same as everyone else. Same as we should be doing.”

  She wanted to disagree, wanted to jump in her Jeep and drive until she was back home, to help however she could. But she knew he was most likely right. And more importantly, Alex and Piper were on their way here, not Seattle. She’d never go there now, not if it meant Piper would try to follow her into what sounded like a war zone.

  “I have to finish setting that arm,” she muttered, and left Wade looking after her.

  * * *

  A while later, it was done. Naomi was resting, and Cameron had broken out another bottle of wine for the parents. Chad sat in an armchair staring at nothing, while Carla had her arms wrapped around her daughter like she’d never let go. It filled Cameron with a twinge of jealousy, if she were honest with herself.

  She’d meant to let them rest as long as they needed. Maybe spend the night. But after a while, someone knocked at the door. Cameron sighed. It was probably Bill. He’d had sense enough to stay away till now, but apparently his smarts didn’t last forever.

  Sure enough, there he was when she opened the door. His bulbous, ruddy face was twisted in what was probably supposed to be a stern expression. Behind him were a few of the others from the cabin community; Cameron recognized Scott among them, as well as Russell and Debbie.