The E.M.P. Chronicles (Book 2): A Life Without Power

by McTatey, Zayden (Oz)

  “What about Luke, Max, and Jessy?” Elizabeth said with despair in her voice. “We can’t leave without our only son. Not to mention that when Luke married Jessy we taught her to be prepared for these types of events; but I’m concerned she may not be emotionally ready for what may have happened, not to mention what is yet to come if the power does not come on. Max is only 2 and I worry about him the most.”

  “Let’s not panic. I have no idea if they’re going through the same thing,” Brian said. “We need more information. Let’s get in the HUMVEE; hopefully, it’s not affected by the EMP. We’ll head into town and see what’s going on.”

  Brian and Elizabeth jumped into the M855 HUMVEE. The M855 was a four-seat military vehicle that Brian purchased from a government auction website. The HUMVEE had been used by the United States military in numerous battle theatres and was well proven in all types of terrain. It had no electronics and therefore would not be affected by an EMP attack – or so he hoped. Brian used it primarily for off-road enjoyment, but after talking to Oz he realized that it would make the perfect Bug Out Vehicle.

  Brian made a few modifications including armored side and rear panels made from AR-15 steel, a modified exhaust system so the HUMVEE could travel through four feet of water, extra seating in the back for four additional passengers, 12,000-ton winch, additional exterior and interior lighting, and an AR-15 gun storage rack on the center engine cover. Although the additions added weight to a vehicle that already had bad mileage, Brian had planned to carry extra fuel if they needed to Bug Out. He would carry enough to get them to Zulu Papa in Kentucky and still have a half of a tank to spare.

  Brian turned the ignition lever to the right and the glow plug lit up. Ten seconds later, he turned the lever to the right again and the diesel engine fired up.

  “Relief,” Brian thought to himself.

  Brian and Elizabeth pulled out of the driveway and as they drove into town it was the same scene. Cars stopped everywhere. They saw store and shop employees, as well as what appeared to be customers wandering the parking lots. The shopping malls and buildings were without power. Everyone they passed looked dazed and confused. Transformers in the city were the same as they had seen near their house; blackened and smoking or previously on fire.

  People watched as they drove by, making Brian uncomfortable. He knew they were questioning themselves as to why his vehicle ran but theirs didn’t.

  “This is just the beginning,” Brian said to himself, not wanting to upset Elizabeth.

  “Brian,” Elizabeth began. “We trained, practiced, and drilled for years for something like this. If it truly is an EMP we need to know if it’s localized or nationwide. Do you think we’ll be able to pick up any communications on the shortwave radio?”

  “Great idea,” Brian said as he turned the vehicle around and headed back home. Then something caught his eye.

  “Elizabeth, look at the prison,” Brian said as he untucked his shirt from his pants and placed it behind his conceal carry holster. “Any idea what happens when a prison loses all power?”

  “No idea, but if the power remains out for any length of time, we should be concerned,” Elizabeth finished.

  “My thoughts exactly,” Brian said while grabbing Elizabeth’s hand.

  ONCE BACK HOME, Brian plugged the RCH Navy Ship shortwave radio into his solar battery bank and turned the knob that adjusted the frequency. Just like the majority of equipment that the McTateys and Tregors bought, this was a vintage piece of equipment that had a history of working in the harshest of conditions and was extremely reliable. Because the radio did not contain solid-state electronics but instead operated off vacuum tubes, the EMP had no effect on the radio.

  His first pass through the frequency range yielded nothing. He went through the frequency range again when he picked up a transmission.

  He listened for a second before responding, “Kilo Delta 4 Tango Victor to transmitter on this frequency. Please identify yourself.”

  “Forget the call signs,” the stranger’s voice said. “What is your name? I’m Charles. Consider me a radio pirate if you will,” the voice said.

  “Charles, I’m Brian,” he said. “Where are you and what is your status?”

  “I’m in Olympia, Washington,” Charles responded. “Have you lost power?”

  “Yes, we have,” Brian answered. “Any idea what happened?”

  “EMP,” Charles said in a matter of fact tone. “What else could it be?”

  “Have you made contact with others, and if so, what is their status?” Brian asked.

  “Have not made any other contacts but have listened to discussions across the U.S.,” he responded. “We’re all in the same boat. No power.”

  Brian needed to know more about Charles. He was intrigued that Charles had a working radio after the EMP hit which meant the radio was either a vintage model like his or it had been stored in a Faraday cage.

  “How else could it be working unless Charles prepared for something like an EMP,” Brian thought. This was an important piece of information as it would give Brian an indication if he was a prepper and might be trusted on future conversations.

  “How are others transmitting if there was an EMP?” Brian asked.

  “Most of us on the radio, especially now, are ‘old HAMs’ who collect vintage transmitters — the tube type like mine,” Charles answered. “Others have told me they stored their radios in Faraday cages and some have even said they stored them wrapped in aluminum foil, secured in a protective container underground. It’s all over the board but some of us prepared for the unpredictable.”

  “Charles, how often are you on the radio?” Brian asked.

  “I’m on every 12 hours for 30 minutes,” he said. “Mark this time and come back to me in 12 hours. Be ready to share any new information and I’ll do the same.”

  “Thanks for your time; Kilo Delta 4 Tango Victor out,” Brian said setting the transmitter down.

  “Global unconsciousness has set in,” Brian thought to himself.

  Brian and Elizabeth made the hard decision to set a time limit of four weeks in the hope that Luke, Max, and Jessy would arrive at their house in Illinois. They knew this went against all the training and planning they had done in years prior, but it was their family. Food and water would not be an issue as they were prepared to shelter-in-place for up to a year.

  2

  NORMALCY SETS IN

  It had been several weeks since the power went out, and BJ, the oldest son of Oz and Nicki McTatey, watched as students milled around on the Southern Illinois University (SIU) campus. He continued his routine of conducting research for his thesis and carried out his responsibilities at the greenhouse. The university was on lockdown with no power except for several generators powering the dining halls throughout the campus. Each generator had enough fuel to keep the power on for one month.

  BJ recalled that when the EMP hit it had only taken two days for grocery and hardware stores to run out of most supplies, but the SIU campus dining hall had a one-month supply of food. Worth more than gold, tight security protocol had been implemented with access only being granted to enrolled students and staff.

  In addition to having access to the campus dining hall, BJ was lucky in that he had access to a food source very few people knew about. As a graduate student and caretaker for the Southern Illinois University greenhouse, he had access to fresh vegetables, fruits, and various nut trees; but more importantly, he had access to the “Shroom Tunnel.”

  The Shroom Tunnel was a hidden location under the main campus that was used for research and development. In order to gain access to the Shroom Tunnel, you had to sign a non-disclosure agreement with the university since the federal government was funding the research.

  BJ studied different vegetables and mushrooms in hopes of being able to genetically modify them to the point that they would grow in the dark with absolutely no sunlight. Although still in the research phase, the project was headed in the right direct
ion, and most importantly it was another food source for BJ.

  BJ and Scott, BJ’s best friend and roommate, lived off campus, but as students, even during the lockdown, they had access to the campus. Although they had to wade through the crowds that had formed at the campus gates and subject themselves to pat downs, it was worth it. Campus security was tight and became stricter when the campus police recruited the university ROTC students to supplement their force.

  As the days went by, BJ noticed that fewer and fewer campus police and ROTC personnel showed up for work. He knew that it was a matter of days before the campus would be overrun with hungry and desperate people. To make matters worse, he was made aware that the dining hall’s dwindling food supply would last no more than one week because a rather large supply of the frozen food had mysteriously disappeared. Students would soon become like those on the other side of the gate—frantic and starving.

  “TWO WEEKS, NO power, and no help,” BJ thought to himself. “Now, the dining hall is running out of food.”

  For a third time, BJ read the note his dad had placed in his Bug Out Bag.

  BJ,

  If you are reading this letter the Stuff Hit the Fan. Like your sister and younger brother, I know you well and there would be no other reason for you to use the contents of this Bug Out Bag.

  First, let me tell you that your safety is priority one. Be aware of your surroundings and constantly, I mean constantly scan your immediate area for danger.

  By car, you’re six hours from our house as well as Zulu Papa; our Bug Out Location in Kentucky. Assess your circumstances and determine which location is best for you. Either location will provide safety and security. The most IMPORTANT point is to take action. DON’T WAIT. If you can drive, then drive. If it was an EMP, you’ll have to find a bike or begin walking.

  You have an additional option. You’re only a three to four-hour walk from Brian and Elizabeth’s house.

  If you question your safety, only travel at night and hide during the day. IF TRAVELING AT NIGHT, PUT ON THE CAMOUFLAGE PANTS AND LONG SLEEVE SHIRT stored in your Bug Out Bag. I taught you about a gray man (fitting into your environment and not sticking out like a sore thumb)? Now is the time to be that person.

  I’ve included maps in the Velcro compartment on the very back of the Bug Out Bag. These are just in case your car doesn’t’ run or the highways are impassable. ALWAYS use back roads where possible.

  Second, your Bug Out Bag contains many things to keep you safe, warm, and fed. You’ll most likely not need them because of your distance to Brian and Elizabeth’s house. Just in case, you have:

  First Aid kit with many different supplies

  Baofeng™ radio (when you’re close to our house or Brian and Elizabeth’s, contact us or them on Channel 1)

  3 flashlights

  3 Mountain House™ freeze-dried meals

  4 U.S. Coast Guard water pouches

  Life Straw™ (use to filter water from a creek or a questionable source)

  Waterproof matches, a blast match, cotton balls, char cloth, lighters, twine, and candles

  Two knives (on the outside of your BOB)

  Light (headlamp, glow sticks, and Stream Light flashlight)

  Emergency blankets

  Writing tools (Sharpie and Fisher Space Pen) with notebook

  Third, if you are the first person home, go to the safe in the garage and grab the Red Binder that is labeled “SHTF – Elevated Threat Manual.” Read it then re-read it and FOLLOW all directions. This binder contains directions on how to secure our house.

  If you get in a bad situation, I want you to FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE. Do not give up. You’re a wrestler, use everything you learned. Pull hair. Kick or hit any and everybody part you can. If possible, push your finger through someone’s eyes. Punch them in the throat as hard as you can. Get your finger in your attacker’s ear and push as hard as you can. FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE!!!!

  BJ, there’s a chance I may not be home or it may take some time to get home. Take care of the family. If you’re not home by the time I get home, we will plan to find you. The first place we will head is to Brian and Elizabeth’s. Be strong in everything you do.

  I love you very much, now get home or head to Brian and Elizabeth’s!

  Love, Dad

  He immediately thought of the word “normalcy.”

  “My dad would want me to act. He would want me to take action to protect myself,” he thought to himself.

  Having access to the fruits and vegetables in the greenhouse, as well as the Shroom Tunnel, BJ knew that Scott and he would have several more weeks of food.

  “Having several more weeks of food buys me a little more time to wait and see what happens,” he silently pondered. “Hopefully, the power comes back on and life returns to normal.”

  AS BJ LEFT the campus the following evening, he could see lines of people forming at the campus gates. Campus police and the ROTC students kept a watchful eye on the crowd. BJ could hear the rumblings of people yelling phrases such as, “We know you have food. Let us have some,” “You’re a state university. We’re taxpayers and have a right to access the dining halls and food,” “I have money. I can pay for food,” “Please, my baby needs medical attention. The hospital shut down and has no plans on reopening,” and “If you don’t let us in, we’ll force our way in!” BJ knew the situation was becoming dire.

  As he continued his walk home, he felt a hand on his shoulder. It startled him and he turned around to discover three men, all appearing to be in their twenties and most likely college students, staring at him.

  “You don’t know me but my name is Alex,” one of them said. “We’re in Advanced Biology together.”

  “I recognize you,” BJ said somewhat confused as to why they stopped him.

  “I know you’re doing research in the greenhouse,” Alex said. “What are you growing?”

  “Everything has been rampaged,” BJ said, trying to mask the truth. “There’s nothing left.”

  “Let’s not dilly dally,” Alex said as his smile disappeared. “What’s in your backpack? You wouldn’t happen to have food, would you?”

  “No food, I’m headed home,” BJ said with concern.

  Alex looked at his two friends and said, “Then you won’t mind if we look in your backpack, right?”

  “Of course I would mind,” BJ said, now getting angry and walking toward Alex.

  Before he could take another step, the two men grabbed BJ by the arms; one on each side of him. There was nothing he could do.

  Alex walked behind him and ripped the backpack off. As he opened the backpack a smile came across his face.

  “Maybe you don’t think fruits and vegetables are food but we do,” Alex said as he walked to face BJ.

  Without saying another word Alex punched BJ in the stomach and BJ doubled over and fell to the ground.

  As BJ held his stomach, Alex and his two cronies walked away with food in hand. Alex turned and said, “Next time it will be much, much worse; never lie to me again. See you tomorrow.”

  The following day BJ and Scott returned to campus. Standing outside the Shroom Tunnel door, BJ inserted his key in the deadbolt and turned it. He grabbed the door and it opened. They collected as much of the fruit and vegetables as their backpacks would hold. Their plan was to return to their house and shelter-in-place. In the back of BJ’s mind, he knew this was probably the last trip he would make to the university campus. The crowds were growing larger and becoming more uncontrollable.

  3

  TAKE THE HIGH ROAD

  The next day, word leaked out about the greenhouse’s location and contents. Once the public was made aware of this treasure trove, its contents were reduced to nothing in a single hour. No fruits, no vegetables, no nuts, and even the plants were dug up and taken.

  BJ being the son of a prepper had the wisdom to bring home more than he ate and stockpile what he could. Now confident he would no longer have access to the Shroom Tunnel, he and Scott would have
to conserve their remaining food supplies.

  Being satisfied with their food supplies for the most part, BJ and Scott agreed to wait for several more weeks before bugging out in hopes that the power would come back on and the state or federal government would send supplies like fresh water and food. Although not a smart move, they at least had the intelligence not to leave their house. They would shelter-in-place just as Oz had taught BJ. To their dismay, the power never came on and help never arrived as the world continued its downhill spiral.

  “SCOTT!” BJ YELLED. “Last can of chicken noodle soup!”

  “You have it,” Scott replied. “We have my mom to thank for one more case of Top Ramen noodles. I’ll throw some veggies in and eat that.”

  “We’re running low on food and, well, things are getting worse by the day,” BJ said. “We need to head back to Decatur. Your family is there and my dad’s best friends are there. Our agreement was to wait two more weeks. Time’s up.”

  “Here,” BJ said as he handed Scott the letter his dad had left in the Bug Out Bag. “My dad is right.”

  Scott took several minutes to read the letter and said, “BJ, I didn’t know your dad was preparing for the end of the world.”

  “That’s not what he does,” he began. “He’s tried my whole life to prepare me, my brother, sister, and mom for the unpredictability of life. Where other parents tell their children everything is going to be ok when disaster strikes, my dad was trying to give us skills and understanding to ensure everything would be okay. The reality is we can’t be here any longer. We need to move on.”

  He grabbed the note from Scott and re-read it again. He understood he had waited too long. He thought for several more minutes before realizing what he had to do. He needed to start walking to Brian and Elizabeth’s house.

  At most, it would be a two to three-day walk. They were young and in good shape. They would walk without stopping. BJ knew that once he arrived at the Tregor’s, they would have food and, just like their dad, were prepared for a man-made or natural disaster.