EMP 1500 MILES FROM HOME

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EMP 1500 MILES FROM HOME Page 2

by Mike Whitworth


  "Hey Mister," the voice shouted, "stop right there."

  "Yeah," a second voice said, "let me see what you have." The two men pointed pistols at me.

  If I had a gun and was paying attention, I could have shot both of them, but I didn't have a gun. The guy at the hardware store refused to sell me one since I was from out of state. I should have taken what I needed. Cap always said I was far too soft. For the first time I understood what he meant by that.

  The two men divested me of my belongings, and made me empty my pockets. They took it all—everything, well except for my watch, which was hidden under my shirtsleeve.

  "Should we kill him?"

  "Yeah, let's kill him."

  That was when I stooped, grabbed a water jug, and ran like hell. Their shots missed, but not by much. They kept shooting and ran after me. "These guys must be seriously fucked up," I thought to myself. In only a day and a half, civilization was gone.

  Both the guys chasing me were medium height or less. They lacked my long legs. They also lacked the fear of death their guns instilled in me. I outran them. It took me another fifteen minutes of full on sprinting to lose them, but I did it. I ran at a slower pace after that, but I ran.

  Thanks to Cap, I was still alive. Eight years ago, when I married Cap's daughter, I was overweight and out of shape, in spite of my job in construction. Cap took me in hand, gently at first, and then with an increasing firmness until I was in good physical condition. Now, four extremely early mornings a week when I was home, and a full day on the weekends, Cap put me through his personal version of boot camp hell. I was used to it now, but he still managed to push me almost to my breaking point at least once a week. He didn't spare himself either. After eight years, he could still outrun me, although I was by far the stronger.

  Thanks to Cap, I knew I could keep going longer than the two guys who took my stuff.

  By evening I was a good ten miles farther north. I could see I-25 in the distance every now and then, but I was hidden in the creosote bushes far from the interstate.

  I settled in for the night, hoping no rattlesnakes liked the spot I picked. I took stock of my possessions; one half-full gallon water jug, one watch, my shoes, and the clothes on my back, minus my suit coat, which had been in my pack roll. Everything else was gone. The bug out kit I put together between the grocery store and the hardware store was gone—even the Swiss Army Knife was gone. I didn't even have a single match.

  When Cap and I were together, he constantly told me stories. Most were stories of survival in the wilderness. After a while I stopped listening because I never thought of myself as a survivalist. Now I wished I had paid more attention. I lay there trying to recall all of the survival stories Cap told, one by one, until I fell asleep.

  Julie

  I awoke before dawn. The electricity is still off. The feeling is strong within me that something is very wrong this time. I decided to throw some stuff together and drive to the ranch. My dad wanted me to come home to the ranch when I lost my job, but I like working and wanted another job, so I found a less expensive place and kept looking for work.

  It was still dark when I tossed my suitcase into the back seat and tried to start the car. It wouldn't start. There was complete silence when I turned the key. Just my luck, the car is broken. I will have to wait until daylight to see if I can fix it. I am hoping it is just a loose wire.

  Wayne

  The next morning I woke at first light. I was shivering and hungry enough to eat a rattlesnake, but none were in the vicinity. I looked.

  I waited as the sunlight grew stronger and the sky changed from black to a tentative blue, and finally a deep rich blue. I wished I still had the atlas from my pack. Cap always told me that before I go anywhere, I should memorize the map so I knew alternate routes in case I needed them. Yesterday afternoon I did just that. I studied the road atlas for several hours. Now I realized that I would not be able to travel on the highway as I first thought. I would have to stay under cover as much as possible. I still wished for the atlas though. I didn't fully trust my memory.

  Over the past few years Cap tried to teach me how to travel off-road undetected. I hoped I paid enough attention. I wished Lucy was with me. Cap trained her from childhood and she did everything well. She was a better shot than I was, but then, so was Cap. Cap taught me how to handle a huge number of firearms though, so I was no amateur when it came to guns. Now, if I only had one...

  I walked north keeping I-25 in sight to my right (east). There were more houses east of the interstate, closer to the Rio Grande, so it is safer to stay away from the river. I still have almost half a gallon of water in my jug. I need to find more water soon.

  The high desert heat is deceptive because it evaporates the sweat directly from your skin and you never feel like you are losing water by sweating. But you are, and dehydration can kill surprisingly quickly. Water is crucial out here.

  A few miles farther north, a small, isolated subdivision popped up in front of me. According to the map I studied, it is the western part of a community called Polvadera. The main part of Polvadera is east of I-25 and too populated for me to go there.

  I did not want to pass through any cities, or even medium-sized towns, on the way home, so It seemed to me I should follow Highway 60 East and avoid Albuquerque. The turnoff to Highway 60 East was fifteen miles north of Polvadera.

  I knew I wouldn't make it to Highway 60 today, or maybe even the next day, so I decided to scout the subdivision and see if I could find some water, food, and/or other supplies.

  I studied the subdivision from my well-hidden position in the mesquite, or greasewood—I didn't know which. The subdivision was laid out on approximately one-acre lots, and not all of the lots had houses or house trailers on them. I crept closer to a lot on the edge of the subdivision that contained a house trailer and a few outbuildings. There was a single silver car parked in front of the trailer. A few other cars were pushed off into the brush. They looked to be junkers, but not old-enough to be EMP proof.

  After watching for a couple of hours, I saw no movement in the trailer, or on the place. I crept up to the obviously home-built porch and quietly tried the trailer door. It was open. That surprised me. That meant there might be someone home. I turned to exit the porch when the door opened behind me and I felt something on my neck.

  "Stop right there, fella."

  I stopped, slowly turned my head, and saw it was a woman behind me; a woman holding a shotgun, the barrel of which was touching my neck. I slowly raised my hands above my head. "Yes Ma'am," I said.

  "You must be new at this?" She laughed, "I don't think you are a very good thief."

  "No Ma'am," I said, "I only stole something once before in my life."

  "Do you know what has happened? Why did the electricity go out?" She asked.

  "Yes Ma'am, I think I do."

  "Well come inside then and tell me what you think you know."

  I nodded my head and entered the house trailer. I ducked to get through the door, but then this was an older house trailer and many of them only had six-foot tall doors. The shotgun never wavered.

  I sat down in an overstuffed chair when told to do so. After sleeping on the ground the night before, it felt good. I almost, but not quite, forgot about the shotgun.

  "What do you think happened?" I looked at the woman with the shotgun. She was very attractive, cute really, and had a sturdy look about her, a no-nonsense look.

  "I think the electricity went out because of an EMP strike."

  "What is an EMP?" She asked. It took me about five minutes to explain that an EMP resulted from a nuclear explosion miles above ground, and that it generated currents that destroyed the transformers on the grid and delicate electronics that were not shielded. I told her about the red sky. I also told her what the after effects of an EMP were supposed to be.

  "I saw that too, but I didn't know what it was," she paused a bit. "You mean to tell me that some SOB shut down our electricity here in
America?"

  "Yes Ma'am."

  “What about radioactivity?”

  “From what I read, radioactivity is not supposed to be a problem.”

  "How long will it take for the electric grid to be repaired?"

  "I have been told no sooner than a couple of years, and it could be longer.

  "Well that sucks cow shit!" Her words surprised me and I guess I let it show on my face. She looked me in the eye and said, "You are kinda prissy for a thief, aren't you?"

  "Well, thieving was not my first career choice."

  "Can I have a swig of the water you have there? I'm out." I passed her the jug. She took a drink. The shotgun remained pointed in my direction the whole time. Then she passed the jug back to me and set the shotgun against the wall in the corner.

  "Now don't get any ideas big fella. I have a pistol in my apron pocket and I know how to use it."

  "I believe you do Ma'am," I replied.

  "Now, if I understand what you said, it may be several years or more before the electricity comes back on."

  "Yes Ma'am."

  "This trailer is uninhabitable without electricity, and not defensible without civilization and its rules and regulations," she said.

  "Yes Ma'am. I agree."

  "And you think as much as 90% of the population could die from this power outage?"

  "That's what I read, but I hope not."

  "I think that might be accurate. In this area, it might be more like a 95% die-off."

  "Ma'am, you are pretty sharp..."

  "For someone who lives in a house trailer on a junky lot?"

  "Well, yes Ma'am."

  "And you know too much and are too inexperienced to be a thief."

  "I agree with that," I said.

  "Tell me about yourself," she said with just a hint of a smile, "but keep it short, I don't have all day."

  "Yes Ma'am," I said. After all she had the gun (or guns). "My name is Wayne Zane."

  "Wayne Zane?"

  "I would show you my driver's license, but it was stolen."

  She laughed, "I think you may have this thief thing backwards, Wayne."

  "Yes Ma'am," I replied trying not to crack a smile. "Anyway, I am a sales representative for a company in Indiana that sells industrial equipment and storage solutions. I was in Socorro trying to make a sale when the lights went out."

  "Ever been in the military?"

  "No Ma'am."

  "Can you shoot?"

  "Yes Ma'am. My pa-in-law taught me. He is retired special forces."

  "Good," She paused. "But the important question is will you shoot if need be?"

  Thinking back to the two men who robbed and tried to kill me, I said, "yes Ma'am, I will."

  "OK, have you ever shot or killed anyone?"

  "No Ma'am."

  "Do you hunt?"

  "I have hunted some with Cap, my pa-in-law."

  "Good. From the ring on your finger I take it you are married?"

  "Yes Ma'am. My wife Lucy and I have a son. His name is Ben. He is seven."

  "Well Wayne, you seem fairly normal."

  "Ma'am, may I ask your name?"

  "My name is Julie, Julie Hoffman. I was born and raised on a ranch near Mountainair—that is here in New Mexico."

  "Yes ma'am, I know where it is."

  "Well Wayne, you surprise me a bit. Anyway, I have been working at New Mexico Tech in Socorro, but I was laid off a few months ago; budget cuts they say."

  "Yes Ma'am. I was laid off a few years ago and had to find another job."

  "Were you a salesman in that job too?"

  "No Ma'am, I was carpenter."

  "That's good. Maybe it's best you weren't an electrician?" We both laughed.

  "Yes Ma'am."

  "Anyway, I grew up on a ranch, got a degree from the University of New Mexico in economics, and have worked in Socorro for the last 14 years." She looked me over. "I would guess I am about ten years older than you?"

  "I am 32," I replied.

  "Well five years then. You look a bit younger than your age."

  "You too Ma'am," I replied.

  "Are you hitting on me, Thief?"

  "No Ma'am. I just tell it like I see it."

  "Not the best trait for a salesman, I would say."

  "Yes Ma'am. It has cost me a sale or three."

  "OK, Thief. I have a proposition for you."

  "Are you hitting on me, Ma'am?" I grinned.

  "Don't you wish, Boy," she smiled. "No, I think we need to team up for a while. I need to get home to the ranch and you are traveling east. Your best route will take you close to our ranch. I know the area well, but two guns are better than one."

  "Ma'am, you have a partner," I said. Julie smiled.

  We both jumped up when we heard the voices. Julie plucked her pistol from her apron and tossed me the Remington 870 pump shotgun just as the door burst open and three men rushed into the room.

  Chapter 2

  Wayne

  Without thinking I raised the shotgun, checking to be sure the safety was off with my trigger finger as the gun came up, and fired three times.

  In a few seconds I realized I was pointing the gun at three dead men lying almost stacked on top of each other in the doorway. Two of them had pistols. The third had a machete.

  "Damn, Wayne," Julie said, "you are the quickest man with a shotgun I have ever seen."

  "Yes Ma'am," I replied. "We had better check the perimeter. I bent down and recovered a Glock from one of the dead men. "Do you know how to use this?"

  She took it from my hand and nodded. I picked up the other pistol, a Colt pattern .45 auto, rocked the slide back slightly, saw the glint of a chambered round, set the safety, and stuck the pistol in my hip pocket.

  Julie, holding her revolver in one hand, and the Glock in the other, peeked out of the window. "It looks clear," she whispered.

  I nodded. "Stay here," I whispered, and rolled out of the door, off the porch, and then under the porch. No one shot at me. There was no movement. I watched carefully for twenty minutes, only taking time out to throw up. Still nothing.

  Julie

  I was shocked at how fast everything happened. In just a few seconds the three intruders were lying dead in the doorway, bleeding all over my rented trailer. If Wayne had not been there I would have been dead, or worse. I have never seen anyone handle a shotgun that fast. The three shots were almost indistinguishable from one other.

  I was still shaking when Wayne stepped outside to see if there were any more intruders. Though my pistol was in my hand, and my dad taught me to shoot when I was just a little girl, I had not fired a single shot. For a little while I was afraid of Wayne, this overly tall man who killed so quickly. Then I heard him retching outside. It was then that The Knowing took over and I lost my fear of Wayne. My knowing told me a lot more about Wayne, and me, but I have been known to be wrong. Besides, he wore a ring on his finger and I could tell he was not the kind of man to take that lightly. Yes, The Knowing is a gift, but this time it left me confused.

  Wayne

  Cap told me that combat was often a waiting game, and the best waiter would win—unless, of course, the enemy charges with overwhelming force. I think they tried their version of overwhelming force the first time.

  I slipped out from under the porch and skirted the perimeter, keeping to cover the way Cap taught me. The taste of vomit was strong in my mouth.

  I found the tracks where three guys came up the driveway. There were no other tracks except mine anywhere on the perimeter. There must have been only the three of them.

  I was worried about the neighbors, but no one came to see what the commotion was about. I went back to the trailer. At the trailer, Julie kept watch with the reloaded shotgun while I went through the men's pockets. Each of my shots struck center mass and blew their spines through their backs. It was a gory sight. I almost vomited again, but managed to hold it in and do what I had to do.

  Useful gear we salvaged from the three
marauders included: one .45 semi-auto pistol with two magazines and 11 rounds, one 9mm Glock 17 with one magazine and 14 rounds, one machete, one old case pocket knife with three very dull blades, two cheap plastic butane lighters, one battery-powered wristwatch, and twenty-seven dollars and some change.

  I wasn't surprised to find an expensive iPhone in each man's pocket. However, right now the only way to reach out and touch someone with a cell phone was to throw it at them.

  "Not much stuff," Julie said, shaking her head.

  "The guns are useful."

  "Yeah, but it is kind of sad. They had so little."

  "Enough to kill us if we weren't lucky."

  "I see what you mean."

  I dragged the bodies into the sparse mesquite, one at a time. I didn't bury them, but I left them several hundred yards from the trailer.

  Once that was done, I circled the area again. I saw nothing. No one moved. None of the residences seemed to be occupied. I went back to Julie's trailer.

  Julie

  I started cleaning up the trailer. With no water it was difficult and not very effective. I was still trying to clean up when Wayne returned. The expression on his face told me that he felt sick over what happened.

  Wayne seemed a paradox of sorts, a man who was courteous, obviously caring, and even gentle, yet a man who could kill more quickly that I ever thought possible. He was a throwback to older times. I remembered the stories my dad and grandfather told me of the Old West. Many of the men they most admired were like that—strong, decisive, and kind. I wasn't completely sure about kind yet, but I was sure my dad would take to Wayne immediately. That was part of The Knowing.

  Wayne

  Julie had most of the mess wiped up. She used all the paper towels, but she didn't use any water from the jug, smart woman, that one.

  "We need to put some kit together and move along as soon as we can," I said.

  "I was thinking the same thing," Julie said. "Besides, I am ready to start toward the ranch."

  We both scrounged through her trailer and put together a makeshift camping kit. Once we had everything that looked potentially useful piled onto the kitchen table and the sofa, I went through the pile getting rid of extras. I knew we would have to travel fast and far, so I didn't want us to be too loaded down.

 

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