Have Hope: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (The Pulse Book 1)

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Have Hope: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (The Pulse Book 1) Page 4

by Hayden James


  The night before, Rachel never heard from her boss, Bradford. Mainly because her cellphone never came back on. As the night wore on, and Rachel and Mischa waited to hear from Brad about the hotel room that Rachel would be staying, the realization that things may not ever be the same again crossed their minds, but they quickly dismissed it. The two ladies felt it best to get some rest through the night, both only sleeping a few hours as they tossed and turned.

  Rachel and Mischa had grown more concerned with the power outage but were certain everything would be restored in the morning. Morning came, and electronics, cars, and the power were all still down.

  Rachel met Mischa in the kitchen where Mischa was attempting to heat a pot of water using four aluminum cans suspending an oven rack over a lit Sterno can. As Mischa saw Rachel enter the kitchen, Mischa said, “Morning. The power is still not on and I have an electric stove. The water still works, but who knows for how long. I found a canister of Folgers instant coffee crystals in the pantry. Want a cup?”

  Rachel nodded as she admired the set up that Mischa made, “This is genius,” she muttered still drowsy from lack of sleep.

  “Yeah, I wish I could say I came up with myself, but Paul taught me how to do this just in case we ever needed to cook inside without power or gas. I do have a small reserve of water, but the faucet worked this morning.”

  “Remarkable,” answered Rachel. She paused and then said, “So, what is our plan. Obviously, we are not going into the office today to finish the presentation.”

  “Uh! Obviously,” answered Mischa. “Oh dear, you must be worried about your family. Gosh, I wish there was a way we could get a hold of them. I’m sure they are fine. Do you think the power outage is up in Indianapolis as well?”

  “I have no idea if they are affected or not. My son, Liam is in Nashville. I don’t know how big this power outage is. It’s alarming that our cellphones and small electronics are all literally fried,” responded Rachel.

  “It is bothersome,” said Mischa as she returned to watching her pot of water almost boil. Just then, a knock on the door interrupted Mischa’s meditative state. “Goodness, who could that be? I hope they’re not evacuating us,” said Mischa as she tightened the bathrobe around her body and made her way to the front door, shuffling in her slippers.

  “Who is it?” Mischa shouted through the closed and locked door.

  “Mischa, it’s Paul. Open up,” the voice from the other side of the door answered.

  Mischa unlocked and opened the door. Looking puzzled at her ex-husband standing on her porch stairs holding a couple of backpacks, she asked, “Paul? What are you doing here?”

  Before Mischa could realize what was going on, Paul pushed his way into the house past Rachel and went to the kitchen.

  “Oh? I did not know Mischa had company?” Paul stated as he was surprised there was someone else over. “Mischa, I had no idea, sorry to intrude.”

  “Paul, don’t be silly. This is Rachel. Apex flew her down for the day for a client presentation. When the power went out, I offered her my guest bedroom.”

  “Ah! Rachel, pleased to meet you,” Paul said as he stuck his hand out for a handshake.

  “Likewise,” Rachel replied, shaking his hand.

  Paul noticed the setup of the pot of water over the Sterno canister, “I see not everything I taught you fell on deaf ears.”

  “Funny, Paul,” Mischa remarked. “Keep the advice, get rid of the man, I suppose.”

  “Or something like that,” Paul replied. “Anyway, I need both of you to get out of Louisville. It is not safe here. Mischa, I know you want no part of me and I completely understand that I hurt you. But, you must realize that I care about you more than any other person in this world. Please, get out of Louisville. My uncle has a farm in Missouri, you can stay there. My uncle built a bunker, it will be safe there. Please come with me.”

  Mischa looked down and then back at Paul. She replied with tears in her eyes, “Paul, I can’t. I can’t go with you. This whole thing is just temporary and it will be back up later today. When it’s back up, I have to head into the office and get some work done.”

  Paul replied, “It was always about work with you. That’s what drove us apart. You were never home, always at the office—”

  “Let’s not hash things out now,” Mischa interrupted Paul’s walk down memory lane.

  Paul replied, “Sorry, I shouldn’t go there. Especially now. Mischa, I need to get you to safety. Please come with me. We can bring Rachel.”

  Mischa answered back, “Rachel has to get back to her family in Indianapolis, and Paul, I’m not leaving. Not now, not ever. And, frankly, there’s nothing you could say that can change my mind.”

  Tears welled up in Paul’s eyes, “Mischa, please. I can’t leave Louisville not knowing that you’re safe.”

  “Paul, I will be fine. I will be safe in here. I won’t open the doors for anyone. Plus, you taught me some great strategies on how to survive. I will stay safe,” answered Rachel.

  “All right, I can’t convince you. Please, don’t open the door for anyone,” relented Paul.

  “Since Mischa won’t be needing the backpack, can I buy it off of you?” Rachel asked after witnessing the touching exchange between Paul and Mischa. Rachel was not one to let an opportunity slip by, not to mention, she would need supplies if she was going to make it back to Indianapolis.

  Paul looked confused, not certain how to respond. He became hesitant to let supplies go. Supplies that he could very well need on his way to Missouri. He muttered, “Uh, well—”

  Seeing Paul’s hesitation Rachel pleaded, “I have to get back to my family. I have to make sure that they are all right. I need to leave Louisville right now and get home.”

  Paul admired Rachel’s persistent nature not to fall victim to this catastrophe. He replied, “Sure, you can have the backpack that I made for Mischa.”

  “How much do you want for it? I have two hundred dollars on me, cash.”

  “Listen, Rachel. Hold on to that cash, you might need it to barter with later. If you’ll be heading up to Indy, you’re going to need to get a bicycle. That will probably be your best bet since all of the electronics are fried. Or if you can get your hands on a mid-1970s car or older, that should work. If you come across a carbureted engine with simpler wiring, that would give very little for this pulse to sink its teeth into.”

  “Pulse?” Rachel asked.

  “Yeah, this thing is a pulse. Either from the Sun or an attack from a rogue nation. If it’s a High Altitude Electro Magnetic Pulse, which a rogue nation would send to attack us and destroy our power grid, we will have bigger problems than just the pulse.”

  Rachel asked again, “Rogue nation? High Altitude Pulse?”

  “Correct. A HEMP or High Altitude Electro Magnetic Pulse is a nuclear burst high above the Earth, typically above our atmosphere, give or take around thirty kilometers above the Earth’s surface. The gammas speed down unaffected by the vacuum of space until they start scattering in our upper atmosphere. Soon, the gamma beam gradually disappears as it is transverses over more and more air particles with the increase in air density with the lower altitude. Thankfully the gammas are no longer a concern, but what is the concern are the electrons that are generated, called the Compton electrons, which then turn into a geomagnetic field. These Compton electrons generate and radiate an electromagnetic pulse that builds up strength resulting in a free-field EM wave. That’s why all of our electronics our dead. The electromagnetic radiation shorted them out. Things like this wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the looters and the chaos and anarchy that will follow. That’s why, Mischa, I really need you to come with me,” Paul pleaded one more time, looking at Mischa.

  “Paul, I’m not coming. I already promised you, I would hunker down here. I have plenty left from the stockpile you assembled when you used to live here,” Mischa reiterated.

  “I tried just one more time. At least now it will not be on my conscience
anymore,” Paul replied. He paused for a moment and then turned to Rachel and said, “I do have gun since you’ll be traveling by yourself.”

  “A gun,” Rachel answered. Shock filled her face at the notion of what she might encounter as she would embark on her journey. “What would I need a gun for?”

  “Things are going to get crazy before they are going to get better. Here, I think I have the perfect weapon,” replied Paul. Paul pulled out of his holster a Glock 41. He continued, “This guy will do decently in a defensive situation. It holds a 13-round magazine and I have two for it. Not to mention, if you need to hunt, this will do the job. If you’ve never shot one, it is a heavy piece, so the recoil is easy to manage. It’s unlicensed, but I highly recommend it. Please take it.”

  Rachel shook her head and said, “I’m not comfortable with it, especially since it is not licensed. But thanks, I appreciate you offering it to me.”

  “I understand. Just please be safe,” Paul replied. “And on that note, I best be getting out of here.” Paul hugged Mischa, “Please be safe. I still care about you tremendously.” Mischa nodded as she embraced her ex-husband. Paul turned to Rachel and said, “Pleasure meeting you. I hope you don’t have to use the backpack of supplies, but if you do, I’m glad you have them.”

  Rachel nodded and replied, “Thank you.”

  Paul headed for the door, moving swiftly on foot down the street.

  “Well, that was awkward,” Mischa said after Paul left.

  “I thought he was being sweet,” replied Rachel. “You didn’t think so?”

  “He means well. That was my entire marriage though. Every single time something was a little off or there was a news alert, he’d go into prepper mode. So many times we sheltered here at the house for no reason at all. I think he’s paranoid. Something about him is not right,” explained Mischa.

  “Right or wrong, he does sound like my father-in-law, Dwight. Dwight’s prepper stuff nearly ripped my husband and him apart. William couldn’t take it anymore of Dwight’s end times rhetoric after his mom died that the two barely speak anymore.”

  “That is tough, but I get it. I was being driven nuts from the stuff Paul would say. While we were married, his paranoia rubbed off on me. All of sudden, I was scared to go out. I feared to be in crowds from a mass shooter. I wasn’t living life though. Before you leave, I think you should eat something.”

  Rachel responded, “Aww, Mischa, I can’t eat your food. Who knows when the power will come back on.”

  “Each, you need to eat before you go on your journey. I insist. I think I have some crackers. I have plenty of canned food that will last at least two months, thanks to Paul. We should eat the perishable items first,” explained Mischa.

  The two snacked on saltine crackers and drank their instant coffee. Both quiet, thinking about what Paul had said. “I do feel better since I have something in my stomach now,” Rachel broke the silence.

  “I’m glad,” Mischa responded. “Please be safe. You should get there in about thirteen to fourteen hours if you can get a bike.”

  “I’m going to try to catch a ride with someone,” Rachel replied.

  “I hope you get one. Gosh, I wish you took that gun that Paul offered you. The thought of you riding with strangers is giving me the hives. You know you’re welcome to stay here. But I do know you want to get to your family.”

  “Thanks, Mischa. I appreciate the offer. I do have to get back to my family. I have to make sure that they are all right. I have a little five-year-old at home. And she is going to want her mom soon,” explained Rachel. With that, the two ladies hugged each other. Rachel was touched by the generosity of her work colleague, tears formed in her eyes as she let go of her friend.

  “Call or somehow get in touch when you can and let me know that you are all right,” Mischa asked as Rachel slung Paul’s backpack over her shoulder.

  “I will.”

  Rachel walked down the driveway and down the street, taking in the eerie silence that she found herself in. Walking at a brisk pace, Rachel found herself in the heart of the city. Stalled cars littered the streets everywhere. People were out walking around and gathering supplies.

  Rachel made her way through another neighborhood on the outskirts of the city where she heard children playing and their parents in lawn chairs in their front yards grilling. Seemed as though the entire neighborhood was having a block party.

  Regardless of the circumstances, Rachel took comfort in the festivities. The neighbors shared their perishable items, not letting them go to waste, but rather enjoying each other’s company and making a celebration of a very dire circumstance. It was heartwarming for Rachel to see the neighbors sharing with each other. This brought faith back into humanity that Rachel had lost over the years as her older kids had gotten older. Maybe, this isn’t as bad as Paul made it out to be. Clearly, no looting is going on and neighbors are helping neighbors as they consume their perishable items first. Paul may be paranoid, but at least he gave her the backpack that he’d prepared for Mischa.

  Rachel continued her trek through the neighborhood and now at the outskirts of Louisville. She kept her eye out, looking for a ride, but not one vehicle seemed to be moving. None of the vehicles seem to be working. Where are the older models?

  As Rachel reached the city limits, she saw a bicycle shop that did not appear to be open, but she saw someone inside. Rachel knocked on the glass, peering inside where she saw a man keeping watch over his inventory with the lights off and the doors locked.

  The man at the counter yelled, “We are not open!”

  Not one to take no for an answer, Rachel knocked louder and waved at the man. She yelled through the glass door, “Please sir! I really need a bike!”

  Hesitantly, the man to the door. “Ma’am, I told you, we are not open. Please go.”

  “Please, sir! I need to buy a bike. I have cash!”

  Feeling compassion on Rachel, the bicycle shop owner unlocked the door and opened it, “Quick, come in.” Then he locked the door behind her. “How can I help you?” the man asked.

  “I need to buy a bike to ride to Indianapolis,” explained Rachel.

  “Indy? That’s a long ride. You can do it, but it will take you all day,” explained the man.

  “If it takes all day, then that’s what it takes. I need to get home to make sure my children and husband are all OK.”

  “Well, this bike here is the best for a longer trip like that. The gears shift like butter and it has a titanium, very light body. Sturdy as well.”

  “Great, how much?”

  “Sixteen hundred dollars,” answered the bicycle shop owner.

  “Sixteen hundred dollars? I don’t have that kind of money on me,” exclaimed Rachel.

  “I didn’t think you would, especially since you’re from out of town. My register is down since the power has been out for the last day. Plus, I wouldn’t want you to use up all of your cash anyway. You might need it on your ride. I’ll tell you what, I will take your credit card information and charge it when all of this is over.”

  “Really? That would be so generous of you,” replied Rachel.

  “Really. You’re also going to need a map. I have one of Kentucky and one of Indiana. Take both of them. I haven’t used them in years.”

  “Oh! Thank you. I didn’t even think I would need a map.”

  “You never know what you need until you don’t have it. I haven’t sold one of these in years. They’ve just been in my store collecting dust. Take them. They may come in handy. Especially if you find a road is blocked, you will have the information needed to get around it.”

  “Goodness, I could never repay you,” replied Rachel, astounded by this man’s generosity.

  “Think nothing of it. You have a long ride ahead of you and you need to get home to your kids and husband. Sometimes, in this world, the family is the only thing that matters.”

  “Oh, thank you!” Rachel shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks at the notion of
the generosity of this man. Rachel handed him her credit card and he wrote down the number and the expiration date.

  He handed back the credit card and showed Rachel how to change the gears. “Well, it looks like you’re all set. I hope you will get to your family just after nightfall.”

  “Oh! I hope so too. Thank you once again,” said Rachel as she mounted the bike.

  “Sometimes all we have is hope,” the shop owner said as he helped Rachel steady the bike.

  The man yelled at her as she got the hang of riding a bicycle once again, “God speed. Get to those babies as fast as you can.”

  A few hours later, Rachel was finally making good time. Riding a bike was rusty at first for Rachel, but she soon got the hang of it. Bicycling was much faster than her prior mode of transportation, walking, and Rachel was delighted that she would soon be back in Indiana in no time.

  After she crossed the river, her heart warmed as she also crossed the state line. Rachel was now back in Indiana and anxiously waiting to see her kids. As Rachel found the freeway to head toward Indianapolis, which would be a straight shot down this highway, the stalled, abandoned cars made it nearly impossible for to make her way down it. After spending some time dodging the parked cars on the freeway and it took a good measure of her energy, she decided to reference the map the bike shop owner gave her to see if there was a better route, a route that was less congested.

  After realizing the maneuvering down the freeway was nearly impossible, she pulled over to the side of the freeway and took out the map. Looking at it, she saw that if she took Route 31, that would run alongside the freeway and would be less congested since it was a smaller road. Rachel then took the next off-ramp and headed down Route 31.

 

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