Neighborhood Watch: After the EMP

by EE Isherwood

  “We’ll ride on the left side of the street, Penny, to avoid contact.” The left side of the road had fewer buildings, since it was the edge of the North Pointe town center. It was tempting to cut behind them and go through the woods toward Bayside Road, but it wasn’t possible. A canal ran back there, and the city had built a tall fence alongside it, as if people from the shops had once made a habit of falling into the water. Some of the running citizens tried to scale it, but only those in good shape made it over. For our party, the only realistic means of escape was to backtrack the way we’d come.

  “I’ll stick to your tire,” she assured me.

  We shot across the intersection, going around the disabled vehicles. Penny and I both acted like rubberneckers checking out a rush hour car accident. All I saw of the wreck from my new vantage point was a tall black smoke plume. It rose above the advancing line of smoke, which was spreading all over town like ripples on a pond.

  “We can’t outrun the fumes,” I said as I struggled to sound calm. “But we’ll try to minimize our time in it.” I’d seen a few tractor-trailer wrecks in my day, including a tanker truck on fire. The smoke from that crash hadn’t been fatal, though it was an eye-watering simulation of what it might be like to stick my head in a gas can. I could have taken us into one of the shops to wait out the smoke, but that seemed too much like giving up. I wanted to get us away from town and avoid the risks of fire, panicked people, or having a safety deposit box drop on us.

  “Whatever you say.” She pedaled like a banshee on speed.

  The next obstacle in our route was the half-turned mail truck. The guy in the sandals and island shirt was nowhere to be seen, but two young men had opened the back door of the white and blue truck, and they yanked out bins of mail from the cargo space.

  They turned as we approached since the loud clicking noise from Penny’s back wheel made it impossible to sneak up on anyone. I met their eyes and nodded to acknowledge them, but I didn’t slow down or show any interest in what they were up to. Their faces were grim and unfriendly, acknowledging the fact they weren’t supposed to be there.

  For a few seconds, I wondered if they were going to make a move toward us, but as we whizzed by, they went right back to what they were doing. One of them yanked out a brown cardboard box, suddenly smiling like it was his birthday.

  “Phew,” Penny remarked as we got away. “They probably thought no one would be watching them with the plane crash so close.”

  The smoke still loomed on our right side, but I continued our conversation to keep Penny focused on what was ahead.

  “You’re probably right,” I replied. “They must have been eyeing it when we came through here before. That’s how they moved in so fast.”

  “I’m glad they didn’t want to mess with us,” she commented.

  “They knew we wouldn’t be easy targets,” I replied. The truck was obviously a target of opportunity, but criminals were unpredictable, so I’d made sure they knew we weren’t potential marks.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “I made eye contact with them.”

  “And what does that do?” she pressed.

  “The bad guys want it easy. Easy money. Easy loot. Easy everything. If you make it clear you aren’t a clueless pushover, they generally leave you alone and wait for easier targets. The best thing you can do out there is put your phone away, keep your eyes opened, and carefully observe your surroundings.”

  “Well, the phone’s not a problem, since mine is toast, but you did tell me to pay attention earlier when you talked to that one guy, and I rode ahead.”

  “Exactly,” I replied. “And I watched you look all around as you rode. That was perfect.”

  I finally caught sight of what I’d been waiting for. The black smoke wafted over the roof of one of the shops to our right, causing me to tense up for action again.

  “We’ll have to talk about this later. Right now, we have to pedal a little faster.” I sped up and hoped she’d follow, but she had extra weight behind her, so she was struggling.

  “Are we going to be okay out here?” she asked as she noticed the impending arrival of the smoke.

  “Yes,” I said with resolve. “You’re doing awesome. Just keep at it.”

  The main body of the black cloud reached us at the next intersection. It broke like a crashing wave over the long line of buildings on the north side of the road, but it came out faster and stronger in the narrow channel created by the cross street.

  A few men hung out in front of a pizza parlor on the corner, but they didn’t seem to care about the unusual smoke, or maybe they didn’t even see it. Instead, they worked together as they kicked and shoved an outdoor ATM machine.

  The black ash from the plane crash swept around the corners, washing over all those guys, and then smothered our bikes a moment later.

  I held my breath for a few seconds, but my ongoing workout made it impossible to hold it for longer. When I sucked in, my lungs filled with fumes.

  “Yuck,” the little girl sniffed. “What stinks?”

  “It’s okay, Daisy,” Penny called to her daughter. “Try to hold your breath. It’s a fun game!”

  The billowing debris cast the street in shadow, mostly blotting out the sun. It carried the stench of jet fuel mixed with the acrid smell of burning metal. It was going to be hell on our lungs, and our deep breaths sucked in tons of it, but we had to get ourselves out of town as fast as possible, so it became a vicious loop.

  I coughed a few seconds later.

  We’d already gone by the scene at the ATM, but I looked back when I heard breaking glass and then saw a young man had tumbled through a huge window on the front of the pizza place.

  He scraped himself off the front sidewalk, glanced down at his bloodied arms, then looked toward the trio working over the ATM. “Why are you all standing around? This is a broken arrow situation, people. This poison was released from a CIA chemtrail plane. We’re all gonna die!”

  The guys looked at him for a few seconds like he was nuts, but they scattered when he ran toward them. He chased after the group, but they all ran around the corner, out of my sight.

  “That was weird,” Penny volunteered.

  “No doubt,” I replied.

  We both coughed at the same time, causing us to laugh a little.

  “How are you enjoying this Florida scenery?” I mused.

  “Oh, it’s wonderful,” she said with heavy sarcasm. “I can see so many great tourist attractions. The beach is over there, Disneyworld is over here, and Cape Canaveral is just down the road.” Penny glanced left and right, as if on a tour bus.

  We traveled another few seconds before noticing a young man in a red fast-food uniform. He sprinted out of the parking lot on the right, hardly focused on where he was going.

  “Heads up,” I cautioned.

  All his attention seemed to be on the clouds of smoke wafting over the buildings from behind. I expected him to slow, but he came out into the street with barely a glance at us.

  “Watch it, buddy!” I yelled.

  Penny’s brakes squealed as she tried to avoid the collision.

  He saw us at the last moment. The man had enough dexterity to jump her front tire, barely missing the handlebars, and he somehow stuck the landing. He stumbled for a couple of seconds, got better footing, then continued running between two parked cars.

  “Nice driving, bitch!” the guy yelled.

  “Sorry, asshole,” she muttered.

  Daisy started to sob, probably from the sudden jolt.

  “It’s okay, baby girl,” Penny said to her daughter. “We just had to slow for a second.”

  My neighbor looked at me with sad blue eyes, and I knew exactly what was on her mind. She wanted to get out and check on her, but now was neither the time nor the place.

  I got up out of my seat and pedaled.

  Penny did the same.

  When we reached the next cross street, the choking debris cloud was still blowing our way from
the connecting road, as if we were on the wrong side of a smoky campfire. A few people stood in the worst of it, watching into the void. Others huddled in little gatherings, perhaps deciding which way to go. The smart ones ran across our route, to the south, fleeing danger.

  Someone also banged metal on metal, like a sledgehammer hitting a steel door. I couldn’t tell exactly where it came from since the heavy smoke made it hard to figure out the direction. However, as it continued, Daisy started to cry.

  “What’s that noise, Mommy?” the little girl asked. “It hurts!”

  “You’re okay, I promise,” Penny comforted her daughter before coughing up a lung. She then turned to me, worry plastered all over her face.

  The banging got louder.

  As we cleared the intersection, Daisy cried with more intensity, then kicked and hit the sides of the trailer like a little Tasmanian Devil. “Mommy! Mommy!”

  I’d intended to push for the exit of town before dealing with the girl, but Penny became dangerously distracted. She’d slowed her bike, spent time looking into the trailer behind her, and was oblivious to potential threats. I knew exactly why she was doing it, and I also suspected it would be impossible to get her to ignore her daughter, even for a short time, so I had to come up with a solution.

  “Penny, I think we should switch bikes before we get too much farther.” I applied the brakes, which got her attention.

  “No, I’m fine. Once we get on the main highway, I’ll be able to pedal a lot faster.”

  “That’s not why I want to switch.” I forced out a chuckle. “Just slow down for a second.”

  Penny glanced over, as if unsure, but she eventually relented.

  I couldn’t talk for a few moments as I coughed and tried to catch my breath. The smoke was so thick I could taste it each time I inhaled. Stopping ran contrary to my desire to escape the sickening cloud, but I knew it was for the best, even if I had to endure the sickly odor a little longer.

  “I’m fine,” she repeated as she rolled to a stop next to me.

  The stinky smoke provided some concealment from the pedestrians around us. Men, women, and children ran on the parking lots, or crossed the streets, but none of them were close. The blowing ash let us hide in plain sight.

  “Penny, I need to switch with you.”

  “Why?” she wheezed.

  “Daisy is scared because she can’t see you. If I pull the trailer on your bike, and you ride on Luke’s behind us, she’ll see your face.” I did consider unhitching the trailer and moving it to my bike, but it had a bunch of straps and locks that I didn’t know how to operate. I knew it couldn’t be overly complicated, but an emergency wasn’t the time to test my theory.

  A man howled in pain from one of the side streets.

  The repetitive banging sped up.

  Daisy’s sobs went incoherent.

  Penny thought about it for another second, then swung a leg over her top bar. “I should have thought of that. I was too wrapped up in my little girl’s tears to think of the big picture.”

  “That’s okay. This is why I’m here, to help.”

  “These pedals are made for my shoes,” she pointed down, “which are way too small for you. How are you going to ride my bike?”

  The pedals were about half the size of a normal flat pedal, and had notches where her shoes clicked in. They were obviously made to be paired with her special type of shoe. However, there was nothing to be done about it, since I was committed to swapping. “I’ll make it work. Take my bike.”

  She grabbed it and immediately rolled backward behind the trailer so her daughter could see her face. “Hi, baby,” she said to Daisy.

  The sobbing was immediately cut by half. Through the tears, Daisy tried to speak. “Can I get out, Mommy? I don’t like this…”

  “Not yet, but soon.” Penny knelt beside her. “Mommy is going to be watching you from this bike.” She hopped up and put her leg over the top bar of Luke’s bicycle, showing the girl how she would be behind her. “Can you see me?”

  Daisy fought lingering sobs. “Yuh-huh.”

  “We’ve got to ride again,” Penny insisted. “Just watch Mommy, okay?”

  “Okay,” the girl replied with sadness.

  For a few seconds, we looked like clowns in a circus, trying to get on bikes clearly not made for us. She almost fell over since her seat was too high, and I almost hit my knees on my arms when I tried to pedal, since mine was too low. We both raced to adjust our seats.

  “Go!” I insisted as I hopped on the new bike.

  Penny caught up and dropped in behind her daughter.

  “All good?” I asked over my shoulder.

  “Yeah, and you?” she coughed.

  I didn’t have good form developed over years of spin classes, but I was taller and stronger than her. As I shifted through the gears, I got us cruising as fast as we’d been doing before we picked up the little girl. Even the weird pedals didn’t slow me.

  “Me and Daisy are doing great!” I didn’t hear the girl crying anymore, so I hoped it was true. “Right, Daisy?”

  “Right, mizzer Frank,” she sniffled.

  The smoke cleared a bit, revealing the final intersection out of the North Pointe area. It seemed to be a gathering place for those who’d rushed out of the town center, though most of them stood around as if waffling between staying or heading south. I guessed there were between fifty and seventy-five people, and they were anything but calm. Even from a hundred yards out, I saw a couple fist fights and a multi-person wrestling match.

  “We’re almost back to Bayside Road,” Penny advised.

  “Yeah, but—” I stopped myself from speaking truthfully about the clogged street ahead of us. Daisy didn’t need to be more frightened than she already was. “But keep up with me. We’re going to take a detour to make it around this corner with, uh, fewer issues.”

  The smoke continued to dissipate, though I coughed again from what was already in my lungs.

  “Detour?” she asked from behind me.

  “Just stay on my tail!” I instructed.

  A few of the people at the intersection flailed their arms as if to flag us down. Others hopped up and yelled to get our attention, but I was pretty sure they didn’t only want to talk. If they were waiting to go south, like us, they probably wanted to do it with more than leg power.

  They wanted our bikes.

  When I’d gotten to within fifty yards, I knew my initial suspicion had been correct. Those who saw me held out their arms defensively, broadcasting how they intended to stop us no matter what. Some even jogged in our direction, as if to be the first to make their offer, or to grab what they could. One of the runners was dressed in the yellow uniform of the salon technicians we’d passed earlier.

  Adrenaline dumped into my system like nitrous fuel on Funny Car night. I dug deep and pushed those pedals to maintain my momentum. We had to reach my proposed detour route before they cut us off.

  When we’d come through earlier, I’d noticed the strip mall had a rear parking lot for employees and deliveries. At about twenty-five yards, I saw the little driveway on the left where I’d planned to make our evasive maneuver.

  I counted down the seconds as I watched the distance between us and the runners. About five men and women had closed the distance, including the woman in yellow. I aimed for them as if we’d started up a large game of chicken in the left lane of the road, but I only did it so they wouldn’t catch on to where I was really going.

  It was going to be close.

  A couple of the lead runners faltered, perhaps thinking twice about being struck. However, the salon woman and another guy kept coming.

  “Now!” I cried out as I yanked the handlebars left, a few yards in front of the lead attacker.

  “Hey!” the man yelled as he shifted direction toward me.

  I made it onto the lot, but I could tell Penny was in danger. She grunted, obviously pedaling incredibly fast.

  “Stay back!” Penny ordered i
n a roaring mama bear voice.

  I heard an “oof” from behind.

  Penny came up beside me, since she’d sped up to avoid the collision.

  When I looked over my shoulder, the yelling guy tumbled sideways across the lot, as if he’d missed a tackle on Penny’s back tire.

  The other chasers passed the downed man, intent to continue the pursuit.

  “Don’t stop pedaling,” I advised in as level of a voice as I could summon.

  “Why are they coming for us?” Penny wheezed. “What the heck did we do?”

  We shot by employee cars, empty pallets, and worker break areas. There was a six-foot wall along the left side of the lot, making it impossible to ride that way. Behind, the woman in the yellow uniform still pursued us on foot, the fallen guy was already up and running. Ahead, a row of dumpsters appeared to mark the far end of the parking lot.

  “They just want our bikes,” I answered, pretty certain they weren’t out to physically harm us. However, if the dumpsters represented a dead-end, and those runners didn’t stop coming for us, we might test that theory in seconds.

  The building was about two hundred feet long, with eight or ten stores in the row. Since we’d accidentally stirred up the unruly crowd, I was certain some of them were shadowing us on the front side of the strip mall. Even if we could somehow stop and fight off the few behind us, others would come at us from around the other side of the building.

  “Go! Go! Go!” I repeated, hoping to outrun any violence.

  We both breathed hard from the exertion.

  Ahead, the end of the lot loomed larger, and I’d begun to think realistically about pulling out my pistol. Could I threaten to use it against those behind us to get them to leave us alone? Surely, they weren’t already so desperate as to not care about being shot. Not over stupid bicycles.

  My lungs turned to lava as I sucked in air and pumped as fast as my legs would spin. Those intense efforts carried me toward the bank of dumpsters. I held my fingers over the brake levers, ready to crush them if there wasn’t a way out.