A Powerless World | Book 1 | Escape The Breakdown

by Hunt, Jack

  “God, why do they have to make this so damn long?” he mumbled, his fingers zigzagging line after line. Response to a disaster was broken down into five phases: preparing, initial emergency response, extended response, recovery and mitigation, and then contingency plans. The OES divided up the workload into supervisors, a disaster council, incident commanders, a liaison officer, a public information officer, the list went on and on. It all looked great on paper but now faced with the disaster it was clear they didn’t know their ass from their head. Who the hell were all these people? Better question, where were they? So far he’d been surrounded by a handful of go-getters and clueless morons.

  He got up and went to the door. “Cathy!”

  “Yes?”

  He’d torn out the organization chart. “Do you know who all these people are?”

  “Well, yes, somewhat.”

  “Somewhat?” He handed it to her. “For the next few hours, that’s your job. Wrangle them together. I don’t care where they are, or what they’re doing, just get them here and fast.”

  “Most of them are here.”

  He stuck his head out and looked down the hall. “You’re joking, right?”

  “We’ve had some cutbacks lately. Blame the government.”

  He grumbled. “Just see what you can do.”

  “Sheriff Wilder. Sheriff Wilder!”

  “Yes,” he said, turning back with a hard frown. Jogging toward him was Steve Johnson, a deputy sheriff, nine years with the department. A good man. Personable. Reliable. At least that’s what he’d gleaned from the previous sheriff.

  Along with a few other deputies, he’d volunteered to be in charge of communication within the nearby vicinity, at least until they could get a better system up. The guy was like a damn carrier pigeon. He even looked like one with his pear-shaped body and sharp nose.

  “You told me to keep you updated on incidents as they occur. We’ve had multiple break-ins.”

  “Already?”

  He shrugged. “No CCTV, and word of mouth doesn’t travel fast especially when people are scared. It seems turning people away and telling them to go home isn’t working.”

  “Of course it isn’t.” He shook his head.

  The size of the area they served was much greater than the one covered by the local Eureka Police, who were confined to the city limits. Even with two captains, six sergeants, and twenty-four officers, the police were still being pushed to the limits of what they could handle but at least they only had to contend with the city.

  His challenge was far greater. Humboldt County Sheriff’s Office had a hundred deputy sheriffs, and a hundred correctional deputies, that had to patrol rural communities that were spread too far apart for them to handle without cruisers and radios. Even with bicycles, they were working at a disadvantage. It was better than nothing but anyone looking to smash and grab was now in their element.

  He’d asked for those patrolling to position themselves outside grocery stores, pharmacies, and the rest to keep an eye out for trouble on the streets. Easier said than done. “Thanks. Keep up the good work,” he’d said. What else could he say? Try harder? They were doing the best they could. Good men and women, all out there giving it their all, still risking life and limb. He didn’t expect that to change for a while.

  He went back into his office and closed the door and blew out his cheeks. Then he went over to a whiteboard and jotted down a few points.

  Garberville Forest Fire Station had been established as an incident command post to be used during emergencies. There was a building there with restroom facilities and equipped with everything they would need: desks, cabinets, and…telephones. “Great, those telephones might be useful, if they worked!” he bellowed loudly.

  Dan sighed.

  “Problems?” a familiar voice said from behind.

  “Hank.”

  Dan looked over his shoulder to see Hank Strickland and several of his boys enter. Well, they weren’t boys anymore but sometimes the way they acted made him think they hadn’t grown up.

  “Hello, cousin.”

  “Look, this is not good timing. I’m a little busy.”

  “Yeah, well you need to make some time.”

  Dan turned with the folder in the crook of his arm.

  “Can’t you see I’ve got my hands full?”

  “And you’ll have a lot more to contend with if you don’t take two minutes to listen.”

  Hank had been a thorn in his side ever since he’d caught wind that he was running for office. His association with the Stricklands had been a strenuous one. Because they were family, it made Hank think he was entitled. He wasn’t alone. Dan had already told Luke earlier to go take a hike when he showed up. Something about the Rikers. He never caught the rest. He didn’t have time for it. No, Hank’s demented family thought that his new position would mean they would have some kind of control over the county, and more leeway to conduct illegal activity. It was quite the opposite. They might have had blood in common but he didn’t become sheriff so he could turn a blind eye to crime.

  It was about getting respect, fulfilling a lifelong childhood dream.

  He hadn’t worked his ass off to get this far to blow it all through a few bad decisions — and anytime they came around, bad decisions followed.

  His side of the family had tried to distance themselves from the Stricklands but strong ties in the community, Hank’s charismatic ways, and his free supplies of marijuana had made it difficult.

  “Close the door.”

  Luke entered behind his brothers and smiled at him.

  “I figured,” Dan muttered.

  “Should have listened to me,” Luke said.

  As soon as the door closed, Dan tore into Hank. “I’ve told you don’t come around here, none of you.”

  Hank smiled as he took a seat and helped himself to some green grapes in a bowl. Dan took the bowl away before his sons devoured the rest.

  “Is family an embarrassment, Dan?”

  “You know why.”

  Hank leaned back in the chair, Luke and his brothers stood behind him. He tossed a grape in his mouth and looked around. “Nice digs. Must be good to be king of the county.”

  “Is that what you think?”

  Hank leaned forward. “Let’s not play, cousin. The people out there are hanging on every word you say like it’s gospel truth. I’d call that some serious weight.”

  “What do you want, Hank?”

  “We have problems in Garberville. The Rikers are back at it, taking supplies from the local grocery store.”

  “You have proof of this?”

  He jerked his head toward his son Luke.

  “I saw them inside. Tried to get them to leave the supplies. They wouldn’t. Threatened my life.”

  “Yeah? And what were you doing inside?”

  “Making sure the community didn’t lose valuable resources.”

  “Is that so. Very noble of you, Luke. Never took you for a community-minded person.”

  “Oh, that’s where you’d be wrong. I’m all about the people.” He grinned.

  “Yeah, I bet you are.” He didn’t believe a damn word he said. He looked over the whiteboard, wanting to get back to his work. “What do you expect me to do?”

  “Go up there. Arrest them,” Hank added.

  “With what charge?”

  “What else? Theft.”

  Dan laughed as he took a seat across from his brainless cousin. “He said. She said. It doesn’t hold up. You see in my line of work, you need something called real evidence. Hard evidence, Hank.”

  “Go up there, you’ll see it. They took out piles of supplies and medicine.”

  Dan ran a hand over his face, wondering how much longer he would have to put up with his imbecilic ways. “You know as well as I do they aren’t going to just let me waltz on in there. And besides, it’s all hearsay. As it is, few deputies ever go up there. You know how that would end.”

  Hank leaned forward, a confused exp
ression taking shape. “What’s the point of having you as a lawman if you don’t use your power?”

  “The law doesn’t exist, Hank, to use it as and whenever we feel like it. People have rights. Now if I go up there, that alone is going to get their backs up. I’ll need a warrant. It’s private property.”

  “So get one.”

  “If you haven’t looked around you, Hank, we are in the middle of a shitstorm. The last thing that matters to me right now is your feud with the Riker family.”

  “Then what the hell are you doing in office?”

  Dan leaned forward, clasping his hands together. “Numerous reasons, none of which include being at your beck and call. Now if you think there was a crime committed, you go and get me some evidence, fill out a report and maybe I will have one of my deputies handle it but until then, you are just wasting my damn time.” Hank snorted, shaking his head as Dan continued. “Like I told your son. I have work to do and a lot of people waiting on answers so unless there is something else,” he got up and crossed the room and opened the door, “go home. Shelter in place. Wait for an update.”

  Hank never moved. He sat there confident, calm, and collected.

  He was a dangerous man. Dan knew it. He’d seen what he’d done to people, the strength of his family, the extent they would go to for one another. He’d even gotten the report from Miriam about Bruce’s death. He knew Hank was behind it, especially after the death of Ryland, but there was nothing he could do about it. Nor would he. That was the only free pass they got.

  Family meant a lot to him and he might have been able to look the other way when there was no evidence presented, but that didn’t mean it would always be like that. His job was to remain neutral. There could be no bias. That included family.

  “So you know what you’re dealing with then, do you?”

  “We’re working on it,” Dan replied.

  Hank got up and walked over to the whiteboard and looked at what he’d jotted down. “Yeah, sure looks like you do. That’s some serious leadership right there,” he said, stabbing his finger and wiping his hand through what he’d written. “So what is it then, Einstein?”

  “Like I said…”

  “You’re still trying to figure it out, aren’t you? Well, let me save you the trouble. You’re dealing with an EMP. An electromagnetic pulse, a nuke that was detonated high above the United States. No fallout. Just a breakdown of every electronic device. The consensus, though every idiot and his brother will argue about it, is that it takes out all electronics, computer chips, cars, cell phones, anything that is plugged into the system or not in a Faraday cage. Though the jury is out on what would or wouldn’t work.”

  “The generators are working. Look around you,” he said.

  “Not all of them.”

  “How did you know that?”

  Hank laughed and patted him on the shoulder in a condescending manner. “There’s a lot I know, Dan. A lot of things that could be useful to you. That is if you can be useful to me.”

  Dan waved him off. “Get out of here.”

  Hank smiled, looking around. “Let me guess, most of your generators and the ones at the power plant are fried. Except the ones you had in storage, perhaps kept inside some kind of metallic mesh cage? Maybe up on pallets?”

  “That’s right.”

  “A Faraday cage,” Hank shot back.

  “A what?”

  “It’s what can protect them. So you don’t have to spend all your time fixing the ones that are fried. Which is what you’re going to have to do. I’m guessing whoever put that cage together knew what they were doing. Maybe you do have a few smart staff members from the past to thank.”

  Dan glanced back down at the folder, wondering what else Hank knew. Dan tapped the folder. “An amateur/ham radio system.”

  “What?” Hank asked.

  “Garberville has a ham radio system. You think that might be working?”

  “You’re asking me?”

  He exhaled, growing tired. “Look, you seem to know.”

  “What is that folder?” Hank asked.

  “Procedure for emergency disasters.”

  Hank snatched it out of his hands and looked down at it. He continued reading to see what else they had there. “Maps, charts, a generator for backup power.” He looked up at him. “All this in Garberville?”

  “The Forest Fire Station. It’s where the ICP is for the area. It’s a separate building. We’ll be coordinating efforts from here and there.”

  “Who’s there right now?”

  Dan squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Probably no one. But there will be.”

  “We could handle it for you.”

  There was a pause. Hank must have thought he was stupid.

  “Thanks but I think it’s time you all head out now.”

  “Come on now, Dan. It would be a real shame for folks around here to know about your past. I’m guessing you never told those who elected you about the skeletons in your closet, otherwise we wouldn’t be standing here having this conversation. Am I right?”

  Dan had a murky past just like anyone from his family. However, it was only known to those who were family. “You attempting to blackmail me?”

  “Me? Blackmail? No. Not a family member. I like to think of it as… encouragement. Pointing you in the right direction. Neighbors looking after neighbors. Feeding you with quality intel about the pitfalls of the community. The Rikers are your biggest pitfall. Don’t be mistaken. If you don’t chain them in fast, there’s no telling what they will do in Alderpoint and Garberville. And with an incident command post in Garberville. That could be a real problem or an opportunity.” He patted him on the shoulder. “But hey, what do I know, I’m just a family member who dropped by to pay you a friendly visit.” He winked. “Think it over, Dan.”

  Hank walked out and his sons followed. Luke smirked as he closed the door behind him, leaving Dan standing there, balling a fist. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, and the Stricklands planned to capitalize on it.

  SIXTEEN

  COLBY

  Los Angeles

  Colby let out a savage cry. What the…? Panic crept up in his chest as his eyes wouldn’t open. Why wouldn’t they open? An intense throbbing at the back of his skull radiated down his spine as he tried to move. It felt like he’d been in a car crash and his skull had been split wide. But that didn’t explain why his eyelids wouldn’t open.

  What had happened?

  His fingers groped at something soft, warm, thick material.

  His body rolled, landing with a heavy thump.

  What was that incessant noise?

  It sounded like someone was using a jackhammer. Was it the blood pumping through his ears? He couldn’t see a damn thing. Why couldn’t he see?

  He reached up to touch his eyes and felt something sticky in one area, dry in another, something caked over his skin. That’s when he smelled it. The iron. That unmistakable rancid smell. It was blood.

  The noise continued. A steady hammering.

  As his ears adjusted he realized that wasn’t a jackhammer, it was barking. A dog. Bits and pieces of his memory returned.

  Kane?

  “Kane!”

  More barking. Steady. Now even more violent.

  Colby spat on his fingers and rubbed his eyes just enough to break the seal of dry blood. As they cracked wide he was staring up at a ceiling fan. He was down on the floor, beside a bed.

  That’s when all the memories came rushing back in.

  Alicia. Daisy. Her father’s apartment.

  “Alicia!” He rolled over onto his belly and used his elbows to prop himself up and draw his knees in. The pain was excruciating. He ran a hand around the back of his head. There was a huge bump. It was still wet and sticky. “Oh God,” he said, staggering to his feet and losing his balance, and collapsing on the bedroom dresser. He caught sight of her father’s body again as he took a few steps and stumbled out into the narrow corridor.

&nb
sp; His shoulder slammed into the wall.

  “Kane!” More barking.

  It was dark and all he could feel was pain radiating through him. Colby removed the small backpack, unzipped it, and fished inside for a flashlight.

  A wide beam shot out illuminating the way. He moved as fast as he could toward the sound of Kane. When he came around into the bathroom, he was relieved to see his old friend.

  Colby leaned against the doorway, breathing hard.

  “I know, she got the jump on me too.”

  At least that’s who he believed had done it.

  If it had been the Russians he figured he would have found Daisy dead.

  Colby dropped to a knee and Kane began licking the blood from his face as he untied the leash. His tongue, wet and rough. Given a while longer, Kane would have managed to pull the pipe out of the wall. It was loose. Once Kane was untied, Colby stood up, plugged the sink, and turned on the faucets. With the power down there wouldn’t be any more water pumping through but a small amount came spluttering out, the leftover in the pipes.

  He splashed it over his face and shone the light up to get a better look at his injury. “Sonofabitch,” he said, turning his head and seeing one hell of a gash. She could have killed him. Even though he was awake there was a chance he could be suffering from a concussion.

  He reached into the bag, took out some painkillers, and tossed two back with water he’d taken from the store. It was fresh. He didn’t want to waste it washing blood off him. His thoughts went to the owner and his daughter. Were they okay? Still alive? They’d been in such a race to find Alicia, they hadn’t stuck around to check on his injury. Now he was faced with his own. If the painkillers didn’t make this headache go away and if he continued to suffer from dizziness or memory loss or trouble with balance, he would need to see a doctor and fast.

  He scooped up a few more handfuls of water, covering his face and head, then used a bandage from the small medkit on the wound. He was pleased to see that Daisy hadn’t taken his handgun. She had no need.

  Bitch, he thought.