A ways down the interstate highway in front of him, a few hundred people stood in ragged lines. Curious, he moved cautiously forward, keeping close to wrecked cars and tractor-trailers. If possible, he wanted to find out what was going on up ahead before he stepped out into the open.
Passing an overturned tractor-trailer, he glimpsed the lines of people queued up that ended at a physical blockade. Police officers sat at tables, speaking to the people at the front of the line.
Other police officers and state troopers stood guard, rifles and shotguns in hand, at the ready. The way forward into the city was blocked except for a single gate guarded by two state troopers. Cyclone wire and fencing blocked the highway off, effectively funneling foot traffic in to a single point, well covered by the armed cops.
Jack walked in between the two long lines of people, getting more than a few angry glances, as if he were trying to cut ahead of them and pull a fast one.
Jack approached a red-faced trooper with a military crew cut at one of the tables. The trooper held a man's drivers license in his hand, turning the card in the sunlight, as he looked suspiciously from the card to the man's face.
He approached the officer, stepping up to the table. "Excuse me, are there any working phones I can use? I need to call my family. They haven't heard from me in days and I'm sure they are worried sick about me."
The red-faced trooper wiped the sweat from his forehead, barely glancing up at Jack from his paperwork. He grasped the hand of the man whose ID card he'd just inspected, and pressed the man's finger to an inkpad, capturing his fingerprint on a sheet of paper.
"Get in line like everyone else. No, there aren't any working phones you can use here," he said.
"What is the line for? I just want to ask a couple of questions, it looks like a long line," said Jack.
The trooper looked up at him, a nasty glare on his face.
"Are you stupid, or just deaf? Get to the end of the line. If you're a resident of Kansas City, then get in the line on the left. If you aren't from here, then get in the line on the right."
The trooper pushed out from the desk and stood up and pointed his finger at the end of the line, his finger shoved right under Jack's nose. "Way back over there. I'll see you in five or six hours. If you want to get in a camp, you'll wait your turn like the rest of these people."
The trooper huffed and returned to his seat at the table, wiping the sweat from his sunburnt brow. "Next!"
A camp. What did he mean by that? Whatever it was, he wasn't going to press this guy any further. Jack backtracked past the other people waiting in line. There had to be a different way into the city, they couldn't cordon off an entire city. He just needed to find a phone and then get out. Maybe he could try to skirt the highway checkpoint and sneak somewhere else.
"You, in the Orioles hat. Stop," said an authoritative voice.
Jack stopped and turned around, convinced that he would see the agitated state trooper following him.
It wasn't though. A Kansas City downtown cop opened a gate in the fencing and walked towards him. He grabbed him by the arm and pulled Jack off to the side away from the other people in line.
"Give me your ID," he said. The officer glanced at the state troopers at the checkpoint.
"Edgemere Maryland, huh? Long way from home, aren't you. What are you doing here," the cop asked, his voice softer than his original authoritative shout.
"My car broke down. I was on a business trip, on my way to Kansas City from Springfield," Jack replied.
"What are you doing now, are you trying to get into one of the relief camps," the cop asked.
The officer glanced over his shoulder at the state troopers again, one of which was now pointing at the officer and Jack. He grabbed Jack's arm, pulling him along. "Come here, come with me."
Jack was pulled along, wondering what was going on.
When they were out of sight of the checkpoint, the cop questioned him again. "Are you planning on staying in Kansas City? The entire city is on lockdown."
"I wasn't planning on staying. I came here to find a working telephone or some way to get ahold of my family back home. Are there any working communications here? Do you know what's going on?" asked Jack.
"I don't know that much, I'm just a beat cop. The Chief of police is keeping a tight lid on what he hears from the mayor's office. I do know that military law went into effect two days after the EMP. There was rioting and looting, it was real ugly. National guard troops have been pouring into the city. City water stopped working three days ago, and the mayor is worried about disease spreading, so we're moving people into camps in the suburbs where we can supply fresh water and control the waste issue," the cop said.
"Why aren't they letting people through? Why the checkpoints?"
The cop chuckled, a grin on his face. "No wonder trooper ball buster didn't like you, Midwesterners don't like answering a bunch of questions, especially from a nosy Orioles fan."
The cop put his hand on Jack's shoulder in a friendly way. "Don't worry, I grew up in Glen Burnie. My folks retired out near Hagerstown. To answer your question, the official story is that it was an EMP, but we don't know who did it. The checkpoints are there because the people in power are paranoid and worried about sabotage.
As to the phones, I've heard that there is a working communication system in one of the Fed buildings, but there's no way they are going to let you use it. I did some asking around myself and got nowhere."
"So why are you telling me all this," Jack asked.
"Listen, I'll be blunt. Are you thinking about trying to go home? Things aren't getting any better here. If you don't have to be here, I wouldn't stay. We've got fires burning out of control, and no fire trucks to put them out. There is talk about rationing food. There have been riots, and we have orders to shoot looters on sight. I don't know how long it will be before everything gets back to normal, and I want to let my folks know that my family and I are all right."
All of his hopes were pinned on getting here and calling Amy. He hoped Amy wasn't as worried about him as he was about her and the boys, but he knew she would be.
"I... I have to go home. I have to get back to my family, I just don't know how I'm going to do it," Jack said.
The cop gave another nervous glance over towards the barricade. "Listen, can you get a letter to my parents? It was dumb luck that I saw your Orioles hat. I've got no other way to get a message to them. I'm asking you as one family man to another, I'd be more grateful than you can imagine," the cop said.
"All right, I'll get a letter to them. I guess if I'm going east Hagerstown is on the way. I don't have any idea how long it will take to get there," Jack said.
How could he turn down his request? The raw emotion in the man's voice and the pleading look in his eyes. He was just as worried about his parents and Jack was about his wife and kids. Jack knew exactly how he felt.
"What's your name," the cop asked.
"Jack Miller,"
"Jack, I'm Nick Rossi. Stay right here. Give me ten minutes, I'll write a quick letter. I'll be right back, I promise." The cop turned and went through the gate, disappearing inside a brick building.
Jack leaned against a car, waiting for the cop to return.
A few minutes later Nick returned as promised. He pushed a black backpack into Jack's hands, and held a letter up. "Here's the letter, my parent's address is on it. Hurry up and get out of here, that trooper has his nose bent out of shape and has been looking for you."
Jack drew his lips together, unsure of what to say to the man.
Nick pushed at his arm, urging him to go. "Go on, go! Get out of here. Be safe."
Jack took the letter and gave a short wave to Nick, then walked away from Kansas City as quickly as he could.
Chapter 10
"Mom look," Kenny said, pointing out the truck window.
An entire city block of homes was engulfed in flame, blazing brightly against the pre-dawn sky, lending an apocalyptic backdrop to
the city. Row homes went up like matchboxes as the fire quickly spread from one building to the next, with nothing to impede the inferno.
A few homeowners armed with garden hoses attempted to douse the flames, but from what she could see, it was a useless gesture, too little, too late.
A man stepped into the street, flailing his arms in an attempt to flag her down.
Silently cursing, she kept the gas pedal to the floor and laid on the horn. As the distance to the man grew short, she closed her eyes and gripped the wheel tight, bracing herself for the impact. If she had to run him down, she didn't want to see it.
Kenny's laughter a few seconds later came as a relief.
"I think that guy pi-- peed his pants mom," he said.
It was troubling that Kenny found all this humorous, but this wasn't the time to call him out on it. She could deal with that later when she had Danny in tow and both of the boys were safe at home.
It was crazy, how many people were willing to risk their necks and step out in front of the truck.
She had to assume the worst. Some of them looked like decent people, but so had the man in the suit that hopped into the bed of the truck at the highway on ramp. Who could tell which ones would toss her out of the truck and drive off without a second thought, leaving her and Kenny stranded.
It was hard to accept, but Jack's predictions were dead on. People were falling apart just as quickly as the modern infrastructure.
"Kenny, close your eyes," she said.
Two men slugged it out on a sidewalk, like two gladiators battling to the death. The bare chested men were covered with tattoos, sweat, and blood. Their faces and fists streamed red droplets as they swung. With their own blood or that of their opponents she couldn't tell.
This wasn't some drunken tussle at a tailgate party. They grappled and swung with everything they had. They knew there was no one there to stop them. It was every man for himself, and they fought like it. She didn't have any difficulty imagining that one of these two would be dead within minutes.
The main road was blocked by a tractor-trailer ahead, and she pulled around the corner of a mini-mart, driving behind the store to take a short cut through the alley and avoid the intersection.
As she rounded the corner, she slammed on the brakes.
Two police officers turned to face her, a handcuffed man held in between the two of them. The tall young officer held his hand up in the universal 'stop' gesture. He moved quickly down the alley towards the truck.
"Mam. Step out of the vehicle," he said loudly.
"Mom, back up quick, let's get out of here," Kenny said.
Indecision filled her. She knew Kenny was right, she should back up and run, but her hands trembled on the steering wheel, paralyzed. Half of her screamed the same thing. Throw the gear in reverse and step on the gas. There is no law anymore. There is no civilization. This is it. They just don't know it yet. Irritation and resentment rose up inside of her. Where were these cops when Rob Moore broke into your house and assaulted you?
Something inside her resisted though, conditioned by a lifetime of social pressure to obey the law and representatives of the law. The blue uniforms and badges carried the weight of authority. Resisting them, and refusing to obey them went against everything she'd ever stood for. She was a good person, and good people followed the rules. These are police officers. You have to obey them.
The young tall police officer trotted towards her, his hand on his pistol as he approached the driver's side of the truck. He unclipped the leather safety strap securing his weapon and put his hand on the pistol grip.
The other grey haired officer had set the handcuffed man against the alley wall, and now stood directly in front of the truck. He slid his pistol out of his holster and stared her down, his eyes cold as ice.
"Mam. Put the vehicle in park, turn off the engine, and exit the vehicle. Now," the grey haired officer said.
She reached for the gear shifter, hands trembling out of control. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She needed this truck. It wasn't right for them to take it from her.
The grey haired officer raised his pistol and leveled it at her.
"Last warning. Turn the engine off and exit the vehicle, NOW," he said, shouting the command.
She wiped at her eyes. Everything looked blurry and far away, except for the gray haired officer in just in front of her, crystal clear as if she were in a tunnel. The gun seemed larger than life, impossibly close and menacing.
"Get out, NOW," he shouted again.
Amy flinched at his voice, and her hand jerk as she put the truck into park. Kenny. She couldn't put one son at risk to save the other. She was trapped. There was nothing else she could do. She turned the engine off and slowly opened the heavy cab door, afraid of startling the policemen aiming their guns at her.
The younger officer grabbed her arm and jerked her clear of the truck. He roughly shoved her against the bed of the truck, kicked her feet wide apart and put her hands on the rail of the bed as he frisked her.
"Mam, do you have any idea of how close you came to being shot? In case you haven't noticed, we've got our hands full, we don't have time to fool around with people resisting. The next time an officer tells you to do something, you do it, instantly," he said.
After he finished frisking her, the officer looked at her license. He spun her around, and his voice softened somewhat. "Where are you going? You're a long way from Edgemere. This isn't a good neighborhood in the best of times. Half the city is burning, and the other half is rioting. You should be at home behind locked doors."
She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. "My son is at his friend's house across town having a sleepover. I have to go get him."
The officer gave her a sympathetic look. "Listen, I hate to do this, but I have to take your truck. We're requisitioning working vehicles. We need them badly right now to police the streets. I shouldn't be doing it, but I can give you a lift part of the way. I've got kids too, so I understand what you're doing. Hop in the back of the truck and keep your heads down. We've lost several officers today already, this is no game lady."
Amy nodded mutely. What could she do? She had to take him up on his offer of a ride, even if it was only halfway there. If she didn't, she and Kenny would need to walk the whole way. She wasn't giving up on Danny and going home without him.
Kenny climbed in the back and helped her into the bed of the truck.
The officers climbed in the cab of the truck and took off down the street, scanning alleys and streets as they drove.
Amy hung on to the side rail tightly as they raced across town. The officers slowed down as they drove past a group of men breaking the windows out of a cigarette outlet. They grabbed cartons of cigarettes and tossed them out of the window to the other men, who filled garbage bags with their loot. The cop briefly illuminated them with the truck's headlights, and then turned back onto the road, uninterested in the petty crime.
They were in a rush to get somewhere, or were looking for someone specific. That much was clear. Whoever or whatever it was, she didn't care, as long as they brought her closer to where Danny was.
They continued on for several miles, then pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall next to the road.
He stepped out of the truck and gave her a grim look. "This is as far as I can take you. I am really sorry about this."
She stepped over the truck's tailgate and onto the bumper, lowering herself to the ground. Once Kenny was clear of the truck, the officers drove off without a word.
The truck turned a corner, disappearing from her view, and along with it, her sense that anything was ever going to go back the way it was before the EMP.
Panic set in as she looked around. This neighborhood was far different than the quiet suburbs she was accustomed to. Graffiti covered row homes sporting boarded up windows or iron bars over the windows, the only visible difference between the occupied and abandoned properties. Rough looking men and women strutted the sidewalk
s. Down the street, a man swiveled his head from side to side as he handed something to another man and received something in return. They walked quickly away from each other, their drug deal obviously complete.
All around her, signs of the new normal could be seen and heard in every direction. The crack of distant gunfire, horrifying screams, and the sound of breaking glass.
"Come on Kenny, let's keep moving," she said.
She walked at a brisk pace, keeping here eyes cast down to the sidewalk as they walked along front of the strip mall.
A tall man, his hands and face covered with tattoos, stood next to the propped open door of a ransacked shop. He eyed her lewdly, running his gaze up and down her body. A grin formed on his face and he stepped towards her.
EMP Aftermath Series (Book 1): The Journey Home Page 6
