“Keep moving. Just a few more blocks,” Rob said.
Swarms of people blocked their way from all directions. They were packed in tightly among the crowd and it was hard to breathe. Rob pushed on, longing for the cabin. Mila kept her hand over her pocket where she could feel the bulge of her revolver.
They crossed a pedestrian walkway to the next block, at a corner store. As they passed, a voice shouted from inside as a man came running out with a carton of cigarettes tucked under his arm and a sixty-four ounce beer in each of his hands. The store owner, a heavyset Indian man with a mustache, ran outside and chased the man. Rob and Mila froze as the shoplifter headed right into their path.
“Stop! You!” the storekeeper shouted. He pulled a pistol from his jacket and fired six shots in rapid succession, taking down the fleeing man. The bottles shattered on the pavement. Mila screamed and threw herself against Rob.
Rob crouched down, pulling Mila with him. The shoplifter collapsed right in front of them, riddled with bullet holes. The storekeeper approached, gun in the air. Mila glanced downward. The man lay dead on his side with one leg over the other. His arms were out, his eyes closed, and his mouth open.
The storekeeper went pale with disbelief. “I told him to stop,” he said. “Why did he not listen?”
“Come on,” Rob said to Mila, standing. “Let’s keep moving.”
They held each other’s hands tightly and moved on. The bicycle cops were quick to the scene following the echo of gunshots. They shouted at the storekeeper to drop his weapon. A large group of people had gathered around, paying the scene no mind, even with the sounds of the police tackling the storekeeper to the ground.
“Only a few more blocks,” Rob said.
A sign for the museum was in view. Two sophisticated women walked by them trying to explain to each other why their phones weren’t working. “Maybe it’s just a bad reception area,” one of them said, holding her phone.
“I don’t know what the hell’s going on. Terrorists?” another man said to his friends as they walked by.
“Your guess is as good as mine, dude,” his friend said.
“EMP,” another one said. “I’ll bet you a million bucks.”
The words caught Rob’s ears.
Approaching the museum, they crossed over to Madison Avenue and took East Eighty-Fourth Street. The regal stone building with Greek columns lined up at the entrance was a welcome sight. The overflow of people coming outside made Rob’s heart jump. He squinted to search for any sign of Josh and Kelly. It was impossible to tell anyone from anyone else.
“Where do you think they are?” Mila asked. The three-story metropolitan building was massive in size, and they had a lot of ground to cover.
“I’m sure their teachers have kept the classes together for the time being. A power outage in a museum isn’t the end of the world. No reason for panic among the students.”
As they got closer to the front entrance, they noticed that most of the doors were closed; only a few remained open. A considerable amount of security guards manned the doors, and it appeared that they weren’t letting anyone in.
“Come on,” Rob said, running ahead. “We don’t have much time.”
They charged up the steps of the entrance, dodging around people leaving, and tried to push their way through. Rob had lost Mila’s hand and turned back to find her. She was struggling to get up the stairs, pushing through an angry batch of people denied entrance.
“Where do you think you’re going?” one loud-mouthed, dirty-looking man shouted at her as she tried to push by.
Rob went back down a few steps and tried to make some space for her to get through. He took her hand and walked up a couple steps, shouting, “We’re looking for our children!” His pleas only did so much, but it was just enough that people began to let him push past, all the way up to the platform entrance, where security guards manned two open doors.
“My children are on a field trip here,” Rob said to the first, blue-uniformed security guard. “We need to find them.”
The thirtyish security guard showed little sympathy for Rob’s plight. There were simply too many people making demands to get inside, and he had heard it all. “Sir, in light of current events, we’re temporarily closing our doors for the safety of our staff and of our artifacts. It’s standard protocol.”
Rob tried to push his way through. The guard grabbed his arm as other security guards stepped closer, ready to act. “I’m not leaving without my son and daughter, do you hear me?” Rob shouted. “They came here on a field trip. Do you still have any school children in there?”
The guard looked unsure, and didn’t respond.
“You don’t even know, do you?” Rob asked. “That’s why you have to let us in.”
The guard raised his hand, blocking Rob. “Sir, I can’t allow that.”
“Let me in!” Rob shouted.
Suddenly a woman came out of the building wearing a long dress, her hair pinned back in a bun. She called for the guards to wait and examined Rob through her glasses. “I’m a teacher!” she shouted. “And this man is right. We have three grades still in the building. There’s a good chance his children are among them.”
Rob looked back at the guard.
The guard looked his partner, who nodded in agreement. “Make it quick,” he said to Rob.
They walked inside as Rob shook the teacher’s hand. “I’m Rob Parker, and this is my wife, Mila. We’re looking for our son, Josh, and daughter, Kelly. They’re in the sixth and eighth grades.”
The teacher thought to herself carefully, distracted as further unrest grew steadily outside the museum. “We have classes from all three grades in here. No one has been released yet, so there’s a good chance they’re still in here.”
“Good,” Rob said.
The museum lobby was dark as night inside. The staff was already hard at work locking the place up. Rob assumed that with thousands of priceless artifacts, artwork, and sculptures, they weren’t taking any chances.
“I’m Mrs. Ramsey,” the teacher said. She then turned down a long, darkened corridor. “This way. Follow me.”
Operation Urban Breach
The security in and around the Met was at its most heightened. Spectators pushed past Rob and Mila with guards hastily escorting patrons toward the exits. The vast, dome-like ceiling rose on pillars high above. Mrs. Ramsey stayed close and led the way past museum wings and cultural exhibits. Under normal circumstances, Rob would have enjoyed the private tour, but ancient artifacts were the furthest thing from his mind.
They passed an Egyptian wing spotlighting the famous Temple of Dendur monument. Sunlight poured into the exhibition room from the long, angled windows from floor to ceiling. Staff members entered the room and quickly pulled down shutters, blocking out the sun and darkening the room. Mrs. Ramsey led Rob and Mila down a hall past several exhibition rooms.
“The children are in the cafeteria,” Mrs. Ramsey said, slightly turning her head.
“It’s a good thing we ran into you when we did,” Rob said. “Where were you headed?”
Her Algeria shoes clicked against the glossy stone floor with her hurried pace. “I was on my way to go check on the buses,” she responded.
“My guess is that they won’t start. Am I right?”
“We’re working on it, and I don’t know what the problem is,” she said.
“Mrs. Ramsey,” Rob began, “things are going to get much, much worse. I’ve read a lot about this. What we’re experiencing now is only the beginning of a deliberate attack on this country. Are you familiar with the effects of an EMP?”
Mrs. Ramsey paused. “An electromagnetic pulse? Yes. I had my suspicions as well.”
“Then you understand how important it is to keep these students safe. You’re going to need a police or military escort if you plan to get these students home.”
Mrs. Ramsey looked at Rob, wide-eyed. “I wouldn’t even know where to start to request that.”
“I wouldn’t know, either. But I can tell you that it’s the only way.”
Mila spoke up. “And not every parent is going to do what we’ve done.”
“I understand,” Mrs. Ramsey said. “The teachers are going to have a meeting and discuss the best plan of action.”
“We saw a man being shot to death in broad daylight, right in front of us a few blocks away. He was shoplifting. Thousands of other people will soon be doing the same,” Rob said.
Mrs. Ramsey seemed unnerved. He hoped that she got the message.
They approached the cafeteria—the size of a large mall food court—and could see the room was packed with children sitting at tables. Mrs. Ramsey pushed open double doors and they were met with clamorous chatter. Students ate from their sack lunches, talking and laughing as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
Mrs. Ramsey stopped them and turned around. “We have six classes in here, two from each grade. We’ve got them under control now, but it’s been difficult.”
“And their cell phones?” Rob asked.
“Not one works. It’s got them on edge, that’s for sure.”
“What did you tell them?”
She shrugged. “Temporary glitch.”
“Not the first time that’s been said today, I assure you,” Rob said.
Mila scanned the room through a sea of children. She wanted to yell for them but wasn’t keen on making a scene. Rob seemed to not share the same concern. He cupped his hands and shouted for them, gaining the attention of the entire room.
The chatter among the students died down as faces turned to them. Mrs. Ramsey stood sheepishly to the side as other teachers looked up, startled.
Two children stood up on opposite sides of the cafeteria as all eyes turned to them. Josh, on one end, looked over and squinted, clearly perplexed by his parents’ presence.
“Dad?” Kelly said, hurrying over. “Mom?”
The other students watched in near silence as Josh scurried away as if facing the most awkward moment of his life.
Mila hugged Kelly and then went toward Josh—who backed away, embarrassed.
“What are you guys doing here?” he asked.
“We’ve come to take you home,” Rob answered.
Kelly was not enthused. “But they’ve had us in here all morning. We’ve haven’t seen anything yet!”
Mila put her arm around Kelly, comforting her. “We’ll come another time, honey. We have to get home now.”
“The power is going to come back on any minute,” Kelly said. “I know it.”
Rob leaned in with a stern look and not a hint of patience left in him.
“Do you have all your things?” he asked.
Kelly nodded with her backpack over her shoulders.
Josh was empty-handed. “What is this all about?” he asked.
“Get your things and let’s go,” Rob said to him. “I’ll explain later.”
Josh seemed to get the message and moved quickly back to the table as some of the other kids looked up and watched him, snickering. “Have fun sitting here all day,” he said back to them, grabbing his backpack.
Rob and Mila thanked Mrs. Ramsey. “You have no idea how much you’ve done for us,” Mila said.
Rob looked around the cafeteria one last time. There was no conceivable plan to look after them all. He only hoped Mrs. Ramsey would heed his warnings. Feeling magnanimous, he lifted up the end of his shirt, exposing the pistol in his pocket. “Mrs. Ramsey. I don’t want to alarm you, but I really think you might be better off with this. It’s the least we can do.”
She recoiled. “Mr. Parker. This is a gun-free zone. I’d suggest your family move along before any of the security guards get wind of this.”
“I understand,” Rob said, lowering his shirt. “Just remember what I said. Things are only going to get worse. Your best bet is to wait in here until proper accommodations can be made to get these children home.”
Mrs. Ramsey nodded. “We plan to, Mr. Parker. The safety of our students comes first at all times.”
Rob didn’t envy her position, and he knew they had to move on. He looked to his waiting family and signaled to the double doors. “Let’s go.”
True to Rob’s fears, things only seemed to have gotten worse outside. Museum security guards had organized a vast perimeter around the building with barricades and extra guards. He hurried his family down the stairs outside the museum’s north entrance, down onto the sidewalk where crowds had assembled along 5th Avenue in a cacophony of pandemonium. Neither Josh nor Kelly looked prepared for it.
Rob stopped them before going any farther. “Stay close to us. We have a good two miles back to the car.”
They tried to listen, but were distracted.
“Why’d you park so far away?” Josh asked.
Rob outstretched his arm in an all-encompassing gesture. Easily outnumbering other vehicles, Yellow taxis filled all three lanes of the Fifth Avenue and East Eighty-second Street intersection near the museum. The roads were filled with hundreds of people on the sidewalk and street corners as well. The NYPD was on the scene, mismatched between riot gear and regular uniforms, trying to enforce order.
Lines of street vendors defensively manned their stations, trying to keep up with the demands of the encircling crowds, growing impatient and demanding food while waving cash in the air. Local news crews were on site, trying to get their equipment to work to no avail.
“What happened?” Josh asked. “Why are there so many people out here?”
“Listen to me carefully,” Rob said, trying to talk over all the noise. “The power grids are down. Cars have been disabled, along with phones and electronics. We have to get out of the city. Everything will be OK as long as we get to the cabin.”
Josh pulled out his cell phone, powerless like all the others. “But I thought it was just something in the museum that shut phones down.”
“It’s everywhere,” Rob said. “Happened about two hours ago. We don’t have a lot of time. Stick close and follow me.”
Kelly squeezed Mila’s hand tightly with one hand while biting the nails of the other.
People pushed against each other as crowds overflowed the area. A child stood near, crying for her mother. A man carried an unconscious woman along. Rob pushed back and tried to keep his family from being suffocated. There was barely anywhere to walk. Barely any space to move.
The alarming sounds of helicopters further drove the panic. People looked up as five Black Hawks hovered overhead. Past the helicopters, a fleet of fighter jets blasted through the skyline, leaving long trails of smoke behind them.
Thick black ropes then dropped from the Black Hawks onto what little space there was on the ground. Soldiers dressed sleekly in dark, urban-gray fatigues descended down the ropes with high-powered rifles clipped to their assault vests. Their abrupt presence startled the already uneasy crowd.
As the helicopters boomed above, sending circles of debris into the air, confused people took their attention off non-functioning phones and tablets and stood in awe.
“Dad…” Josh said, pointing as one soldier effortlessly slid down a rope and landed nearby.
Rob was caught in the spectacle and unresponsive.
“We should go,” Mila said, pulling Kelly along. “This doesn’t look good.”
Rob ushered Josh along, following Mila. “Keep moving. Let’s go.”
They pushed through a crowd and crossed the street. Rob pointed up the road. “Just the way we came. Hurry.”
They stayed close together, constricted by the crowd, and moved as quickly as possible as more and more soldiers hit the ground. They wore thick, tinted visor helmets with no discernible military branch, identification, or rank on their fatigues.
The soldiers brandished rifles with long, one-hundred round magazines protruding from the ends, clutching them with black tactical gloves. The wary crowds began backing away from wherever the soldiers landed. A loud voice blared over one of the helicopter bullhorns.<
br />
“Please disperse from the streets now. A tactical clearing will take place in thirty seconds. Please disperse from the streets…”
“Tactical clearing?” Mila said, looking back at Rob. “What are they talking about?”
As they continued up the sidewalk, people began moving every which way. The soldiers kept their rifles aimed forward and began shouting to the people from under their masks, “Move! Move! Move!”
Even the police officers looked confused. The soldiers announced themselves as an elite urban tactical unit specializing in crowd control through their voice boxes.
“We’ve been tasked with clearing the roads to make way for emergency transport,” one soldier told a police officer through the voice box on his visor mask.
The police seemed reluctantly on board. They began to usher more people off the street, facing resistance from pedestrians. And while the officers showed restraint, the soldiers took a much harsher stance. They pulled noncompliant people out of their vehicles, threw them on the ground, and clubbed them in the head without hesitation.
Rob urged his family to move faster. They traveled north up Fifth Avenue, desperately trying to reach East Eighty-fourth Street, three blocks ahead. Rob led them across Madison Avenue, squeezing past cars, to Park Avenue, where many others were fleeing.
“Clear the road!” another soldier shouted through his voice box. He swung his buttstock and just missed Rob’s face. Rob shoved on without looking back, keeping his family close.
Soldiers descended upon defiant crowds blocking the road.
“Get off the street!” they shouted with their rifles aimed. “Now!”
Smoke grenade canisters flew into the air and hit the ground, igniting loud pops followed by billows of purple smoke that dispersed the crowd into disoriented and frightened packs, trying to escape the noxious fumes.
Those in the thick of the smoke fell to their knees gagging, with their eyes watering and thick mucus pouring from their mouths and nostrils.
No Power: EMP Post Apocalyptic Fiction Thriller Super Boxset Page 72
