Inception of Chaos: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Story

by Holden, J. J.

  The question sent up red flags, but it was probably just her being overly cautious. The creases around his mouth showed her a man who was used to smiling—someone nice. “I’m Christine, but you can call me Chrissy. My friend here is Mary, and these are my kids, Hunter and Darcy. And to answer your question, I’m not sure. The fuel gauge said we had over half a tank left, but it sputtered and stalled, like it was out of fuel. I figured it was the C-M-E messing with the gauges.”

  “I think you’re in luck, then.” Wiley flashed a smile at her, then nodded to Mary. “If your car ran okay after the sun punched us in the nose, it’s probably not your gauges. Those are mechanical, not electronic, as long as you don’t have a digital fuel readout. But you said it was a gauge?”

  “Yeah, the kind with a needle on a dial.”

  Wiley scratched his head, and he looked like he was pondering something for a moment. Then he said, “There’s only a couple things it could be. I could tell you more if I took a look under the hood, though.”

  “I wish you hadn’t said that. Running out of gas would have been so much easier to fix.” Her stomach sank at the thought of trying to walk all the way to Weldona with armloads of their possessions and food.

  “It’s only easier if you could find a gas station, and it still had power, and it wasn’t out of gas with no deliveries going on. The news says most of the trucks aren’t working, until they can replace some motherboards and so on.” His smile faded, and he shook his head lightly. “But if it’s just a vacuum hose or something equally simple, those can be repaired with a pocket knife.”

  Christine grimaced. She didn’t have the skills to fix any part of a car, and if it wasn’t the fuel gauge to blame, it wouldn’t matter how easy it was to fix. She wouldn’t know how.

  “No need to frown,” he said. “Like I said, I can fix it, if it’s something simple. I work on cars for a living, or I did before all of this.”

  She really wanted to believe him. And, he’d shown no sign of being predatory… Plus, he was alone. He was more likely to become a victim than she was, under the circumstances. “What would you want in return? I only have the cash I had in my wallet…”

  “Well, you aren’t from here. So, I’m guessing you somehow got out of Denver. The closest freeway is I-76. I was just going to follow it, and see if any of the little towns along the way need a worker. Maybe you could give me a lift?”

  “Well…”

  He flashed a bright smile. “You aren’t obligated. You could drop me off anywhere along the way to wherever you’re going. But even if you don’t want to give a lift to some guy you don’t know, I’ll be happy to fix your car, if I can, or at least tell you what’s wrong with it.”

  Christine felt herself smiling. The guy was charming, she’d give him that. And Mary hadn’t taken her eyes off Wiley the whole conversation, so she probably wouldn’t mind. “Why would you do that?”

  “You got kids, and it doesn’t feel right just leaving you to wander around. Since I’m heading to the freeway anyway, taking a look wouldn’t even cost me time. Besides, if my little sister was in trouble, I’d have wanted someone to help her out. Your kid reminds me of her, a bit.”

  Christine nodded, considering the man. Things were getting more dangerous every day, it seemed, and having a man with them wouldn’t hurt. The clincher was what he said about her daughter reminding him of his sister.

  At last, she said, “Okay. We’ll give you a ride at least to the next town.” She found herself smiling back at him.

  The car sat where she’d left it, undisturbed, and Christine breathed a sigh of relief. She unlocked it, then popped the hood.

  Wiley propped it open and looked inside.

  “Do you want me to try to start it?” she asked.

  “Not yet,” came Wiley’s muffled voice. A minute later, he said, “Okay, try now.”

  She turned the key, and though the engine turned over eagerly, it didn’t catch. A moment later, he told her to stop. She took out the key and climbed out to move around front to where Wiley was leaning into the engine compartment. “Any idea what’s wrong?”

  “Could be several things. I’ll start with the simplest. The battery cables are fine, so next I’ll check the fuses.”

  “There’s fuses for the engine?”

  “Sort of, yeah.” He popped open a box in the engine area she hadn’t noticed before, and inside were rather large fuses. He inspected those one by one, then shook his head. “Fuses look fine. Maybe it’s not getting fuel.”

  “That’s what I said.” If he was just going to tell her she was out of gas…

  “No, not out of fuel; just not getting it. Gotta feed the beast for it to roar,” Wiley said, and flashed her a winsome smile before leaning back in. He began to feel around on a black hose.

  A few seconds later, he stood straight and wiped his hands on a workshop rag Christine handed to him. “Yeah, there’s no fuel in the line. But before you freak out, that doesn’t mean it’s on empty. Your fuel pump draws fuel with a vacuum, rather than pumping it out from the tank itself. I have to get under the car to check the line, and hopefully, I can check the pump while I’m down there.”

  Before she could reply, he walked to the back of the car and shimmied underneath. Even as small as he was, it was a tight fit. After a couple minutes, he pulled a small folding knife from one pocket.

  Christine couldn’t see what he was doing, but maybe ten minutes later, he emerged and dusted himself off.

  “Give it a try, now. If it works, I fixed it. If not, then the hole in the fuel line made the pump overheat from working too hard, seizing it up, and you’re screwed.”

  Christine clenched her jaw. He didn’t seem to care either way, but she couldn’t hold that against him. It wasn’t his problem, beyond not getting a ride. He’d be no worse off than before. She, however, would have bigger problems to deal with.

  Crossing her fingers, she turned the key.

  The engine sputtered, then roared to life. Her kids cheered, and she understood the feeling.

  Grinning, she got out and said, “Okay, everyone in. Wiley, you can sit up front. Mary, take a window seat. Darcy, you’ll be in the middle.”

  “Aw, man…”

  Christine glared, and Darcy put her head down and climbed in, followed by the others.

  They’d gone halfway to Weldona when the road ahead lit up with red-and-blue lights. Four police cars had blocked the road.

  Wiley said, “Turn around; go around.” His voice, usually rich and lively, sounded almost monotone.

  Christine came to a stop. Out of the corner of her eye, Wiley was trying to look in every direction at once. She couldn’t blame him, though. Getting detained so close to Fran’s would be beyond irritating.

  One of the police cars pulled away from the others, heading toward them.

  She said, “Too late. They’re coming to us. Crap. Listen, kids, if they ask where you live, give them Fran’s address. Mary, you’re my cousin. Wiley, you’re with her.”

  Wiley’s eyes were wide—he looked afraid.

  Too late to do anything about it, though—the other car stopped, and two officers climbed out. One approached her car with his hands poised in front over his duty belt, while the other circled toward the car’s trunk.

  She rolled down her window. “Good day, officers.”

  15

  David approached the car with his hands on his duty belt, thumbs tucked in. It was less threatening than putting his hand on his sidearm, as Orien was doing, but it was deceptively easy to snap-fire his weapon from that position.

  Although, once he got a look at the family in the car, he didn’t think they’d pose a problem. Two women, one man, and two teens.

  One of the women was behind the wheel, and she rolled her window down as he approached to greet him.

  “Good afternoon, ma’am. I’m Sergeant Kelley, Denver P-D, temporarily under State authority in securing transit in or out of Denver Metro. Relax, you aren’t in any tro
uble. What’s the nature of your travel, today?”

  The man in the passenger seat shifted. David couldn’t see his face, but his trained eye took in a few details right away. His clothes fit awkwardly, and a bit of some tattoo peeked out from under his collar, on his neck.

  David readied himself in case the man reached for something, anything, but kept his polite “game face” on.

  The woman replied, “We’re from Weldona, just north. We left to get my cousin’s boyfriend and bring him back. And, we’re almost out of gas. I figured we’d fuel up out there, but couldn’t find a gas station. Otherwise, I’d have fueled up back home before leaving. Stupid mistake, I know…”

  The woman in back said, “Naturally, the car started having problems after we got all the way out there. We’re just hoping we make it back.” Her voice was tight, the words coming out in a jumble.

  The driver blinked twice, then nodded.

  David pursed his lips. The body language could be showing they were nervous about something, but then again, most people showed some kind of fear or anger at being questioned by cops. “Can I see your I-Ds, please?”

  The two women handed up driver’s licenses. The man, however, said, “I left mine back home, and…with the car acting funny, we figured…we could get it later.”

  Odd, but it happened sometimes. “Okay, no problem. What’s your name?” David pulled out a notepad and pen.

  “Wiley Smith,” the man replied immediately.

  David wrote that down, along with the information on the two licenses. “Christine Simmons, Mary Patterson, and Wiley Smith. And these two?” He motioned to the kids, in back.

  “Darcy and Hunter, my children.”

  The girl said, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, officer.”

  “You too, kid.” He smiled, then looked back at the driver. “Okay. Anything else you want to tell me about your trip? Anything you should tell me about in the car?”

  “No,” the one named Christine said. “Just some stuff in case we got stuck out here. It seemed prudent.”

  A glance in the rear showed blankets, as well as boxes, though they were folded closed. So far, so good. But still, something about this bugged him. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he’d learned to listen to his gut.

  He said, “So, what’s wrong with your vehicle, Mrs. Simmons?”

  “Please, call me Christine.” She smiled, but her hands grasped the steering wheel hard enough to turn her fingers white. “Well, uh, it keeps sputtering and stalling out. Wiley fixed it, sort of, but it’s still stalling out every once in a while.”

  Mary said, rapid-fire, “We were looking for a repair shop to check it out. There’s not one in Weldona, and we don’t want to get stuck out here.”

  “I thought you were looking for a gas station.” David was just fishing, but sometimes people tripped themselves up if they were lying. He watched the driver intently.

  Christine said, “We hoped to kill two birds with one stone. You know, gas and garage. But we haven’t found one.”

  “Okay.” David handed their IDs back. “Please wait here and leave your engine off.”

  He nodded to Orien, and the two made their way back to the police car—a county sheriff vehicle—and headed back to the roadblock.

  Orien said, “You know damn well we can’t run their IDs. No connection.”

  “Yeah.” David adjusted the rear-view to keep the people’s car in sight. “But they don’t know that. I’ll press them a bit when I come back. But they don’t set off too many alarm bells in my head.”

  “I can’t believe they made it down here. There’s people hijacking lonely cars, all over the place. Good ol’ boys aren’t so good, when the crap hits the fan.”

  David clenched his jaw. Orien’s comment mirrored his own thoughts. Even if the cousin’s boyfriend was a bit shady-looking, the rest of the family seemed ordinary enough. Why they’d packed kids to go pick up one guy, he couldn’t guess, but it could have been as simple as not wanting to leave them home alone to burn the house down while they were gone.

  He said, “You know, we haven’t seen another car in hours. The bad guys know we’re here, by now. But it’d be terrible if that family got stranded, or worse if they get hijacked. She mentioned Weldona, right?”

  “That’s what I heard.” Orien waited until the car had stopped, then climbed out. Over the roof, he grinned and said, “Maybe you should drive them to that service station we passed on our north patrol. They were open.”

  Orien’s joking comment mirrored David’s thoughts, actually.

  David closed his door and tucked the notepad into his blouse pocket. “Maybe we should.” At Orien’s darting glance, he added, “We don’t have anything better to do, it would keep citizens safe, and it’d give us a chance to see if they were being honest. If they refuse, or if the shop says the car’s good, we can go from there.”

  Orien nodded at that, apparently satisfied. “Yeah. I didn’t like the look of that boyfriend. You saw the ink on his neck? Looked jailhouse, to me.”

  Indeed it had. David got a cup of coffee, drank it slowly, and then went to talk to the roadblock’s officer on duty.

  David climbed out of his personal SUV, but left the lights flashing. It didn’t hurt to remind them it was a cop’s vehicle, since the station officer had cleared him to go so long as he didn’t take one of their patrol cars.

  As he walked up to the window, the woman—Christine—rolled it down, and smiled.

  “Hi, Officer Kelley. Everything in order?”

  David’s eyes narrowed for the briefest moment. His gut told him that wasn’t an innocent question, but…again…people got nervous around the police. “Not quite. Miss Patterson, your license expires in two months. You need to get that taken care of. Once it expires, it’s harder to get it renewed.”

  “Oh, sure. Thanks, officer,” the woman in back replied.

  “Also, Mister Smith, nothing came up on your name.” It was a lie, but he watched intently for the reaction.

  Wiley’s hand on the seat clenched tightly. “Maybe you misspelled it.”

  David paused. “Maybe. But you folks took a bigger risk than you know, traveling out here alone. We’ve had lots of reports of road bandits hijacking working cars, robbing people, and even worse.”

  Christine’s eyes widened, looking genuinely surprised. “Really? We haven’t seen anyone in probably hours.”

  David cocked his head. “The trip from Weldona and back doesn’t take hours. What else were you up to?”

  She shifted in her seat and looked back at the other woman, Mary. “The car stalled out. Wiley had to fix it, but it was a bandage, not a repair. We just want to get home as quickly as we can. I’m sure it’ll last that long. So if everything is in order…?”

  David shook his head. “No, ma’am. My partner and I found a gas station with a garage that’s open. I’d feel a whole lot better if you followed us there to make sure your vehicle is road-worthy before we send you on your way.”

  The man, Wiley, replied, “That’s great of you to offer, we really appreciate it, but I’m sure the fix will hold. It’s only a few more miles, and—”

  David cut him off. “No.”

  “No?” Wiley cocked his head, glancing to the woman driving.

  David’s mind raced for an excuse. Of course, being the police made that a lot easier. “We can’t let you go after admitting your car isn’t fully road-worthy. Under normal circumstances, we could let you go because everyone has cell phones to call road-side assistance, or impound the car. But with the networks down for the moment, you can either continue on foot, or let us escort you to the service station.”

  Christine stared at her steering wheel for a moment with her lips pursed, but she nodded. “Okay. We’ll follow you. Besides, with bandits roaming the countryside, or whatever, I’ll feel safer with the escort.”

  David nodded. That was the right answer for a woman with her kids out in the middle of nowhere, even if sh
e might not have believed him about the bandits. They had received a few reports of it, but nothing like how he’d made it sound.

  He handed the mother a walkie-talkie, good only for short range, which he and Orien carried as backup comms. They could do without a backup for a little while. “I’ll keep in touch with you through this, but it has a short range. Stay close, so I don’t have to come looking.”

  “Um…” She took the radio and stared at it like it was some alien technology. “Okay.”

  “Okay, then. Please follow us. We’ll keep to thirty miles an hour, and we’ll get there in just a few minutes. You’ll be on your way home in no time.”

  Before they could reply or argue, he spun on his heels and headed to his vehicle. He hadn’t mentioned his stronger motive for giving her the radio, though. With it, he could check in on her, and that shady character with her would be less likely to do something stupid to get away, now.

  16

  Christine grimaced as she followed twenty yards behind the cops’ Bronco. “Dammit, Mary. Why’d you have to go adding to the story? Keep it simple, and they go away. Now look.”

  Wiley grunted, voice deeper than usual. “Never volunteer information to the police, beyond your name because they’ll ask anyways, and it sets them at ease to get it without asking. You see now why you shouldn’t do that, I hope.”

  Wiley had seemed rather nervous when the police were talking to them, but some people were just like that. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. The man’s clothes fit poorly, and there was that tattoo, which didn’t look like something a real shop would have done.

  But, the cops seemed okay with him, more or less, so she pushed that doubt aside. He’d done nothing to earn suspicion, after all.

  She said, “On the bright side, you can be on your way, when we get there. After the cops go, of course.”