Marla nodded, grabbed some bread and lunch meat, and closed the door. “Do you really think it will take long to get the power back?”
“I don’t know,” James said, hands out and shaking his head. He backed against a counter and shared in the uncertain silence.
Marla observed their kitchen table, the table they used to share breakfast on together, before their lives had gotten so busy. Daylight glowed from behind closed blinds. “I hope Raul and Dean and everyone else are okay.”
“I’m sure they are,” James said. As he glanced over, he noticed tears welling in her eyes.
“I’m worried about all of them now, even Kate.” She laughed nervously as James approached her with a hug.
“They’re going to have to figure things out, just like we did.” He then kissed the middle of her forehead. “You’re shaking. Why don’t you lie down for a little bit and get some rest?”
“That’d be nice, but I’ll pass for now,” she said.
Suddenly, a knock came from the front door. Marla tensed up as James and spun around, listening. “You stay here,” he said, leaving the kitchen in a hurry. Another knock had sounded, more urgent than before. He stared into the foyer, hesitant to make another move. Larry was on full guard, no longer on the couch but kneeling next to it with what looked like a revolver in his hand.
“Put that away,” James quickly said.
Larry shook his head and t hen lowered the piece. “Tell them to go away. You know nothing. You say nothing.”
James turned to see Marla right behind him, inching toward the door. “I’ll handle this,” he told her as he hurried ahead and looked through the door’s peephole. Vernon was standing outside, and he was alone. He was wearing a hat and sunglasses and in his right hand was a cane. James didn’t know him to use one before. He certainly didn’t when he was walking his dogs earlier that day.
“It’s okay,” James said in a quiet tone. “It’s just Vernon.”
Another knock, louder this time. “James! Marla! Come on, open up!” Clearly something was wrong. Vernon was normally so laid-back. James had never seen him so worked up.
He opened the door a crack and stuck his head outside. “Hey, Vernon. What’s going on?”
Vernon backed away from the door, leaning on his cane, out of breath. “Sorry to barge in on you like this, but I need to talk to you.”
James opened the door fully and stood aside for Vernon to enter. He didn’t look particularly well. “Sure, Vernon. Is everything okay?”
Vernon took a step forward and winced. “Yes and no. It’s my own stupid fault.”
James turned as Marla approached from behind, concerned. “Goodness, what happened? Please come in.”
“Yes, please,” James added, extending his arm, waving him in.
“You’re too kind,” Vernon said, limping forward. Marla held his shoulder and guided him in. James shut the door behind them. They entered the living room as Larry shifted to the other side of the couch, eyes narrowed and deeply suspicious. Marla walked Vernon to the couch and helped him sit.
“It’s Rita,” he said with a jolt of pain showing on his face. “I think she needs to go to the hospital.”
Marla gasped as she sat next to him. “Oh no. What happened?”
They knew that he looked after his sick wife, an at-home caretaker. She suffered from kidney problems and used dialysis treatment daily. “At first I thought she’d be fine, but with this power outage, I’m getting worried.”
The inevitable burden of their sick neighbor reared its head at the worst possible time. James didn’t blame Vernon or Rita. They had no control of the situation. They, like thousands of others, were now facing dire reality.
“My car won’t start, just like everyone else, it seems. I can’t call an ambulance. I can’t do anything.” He paused to catch his breath as he rubbed his bad knee. “I heard her calling out from the bedroom, and stupid me, I ran and tripped in the dark hallway, hence the cane.”
James stood across from Vernon and Marla, listening. He glanced at Larry and knew by his stone-faced expression that he wasn’t going to readily assist. In fact, it was probably the last thing he wanted to do.
“I don’t know what to do,” Vernon continued as Marla held his arm, deep concern showing in her face. “I-I’m all out of options.” He suddenly perked up as though he’d found the solution. “Then I thought of that station wagon you pulled up in. You must have the only working vehicle in the entire neighborhood.”
Marla’s eyes shifted toward Larry, hesitant. “Yes, but that’s not our car.” She held her hand out, introducing him. “It belongs to our friend, Larry.”
James stepped forward. “We were stranded like everyone else, and he gave us a ride.”
“Oh…” Vernon said as his head lowered. “But the car does work?”
“Yes, it works,” Larry said, standing up with a stretch. “But I’m not in the shuttle business, sorry.”
James had to give it to Larry. The man didn’t disappoint. Marla looked at him with near disgust but held her tongue. “We have to do something,” she managed to say.
“You can just drop us off at the hospital,” Vernon added. “That’s all I ask. Please!”
All eyes went to Larry as he slid his hand down his face with a big sigh. “I don’t think you understand, mister. It’s bedlam out there. We almost got shot by a group of stranded motorists. It’s not safe to drive. Period.”
Vernon leaned back into the couch, thinking to himself. “Just how widespread is this thing?”
“Could be the entire state,” James answered. “Or damn near half the country. Downtown is pure chaos, thousands of vehicles just stuck on the road, not a one of them working.”
“My God…” Vernon said. He then turned to Marla with desperation in his eyes. “But the hospitals. They’ve got to have a backup generator, right?” The silence that followed didn’t exactly show much confidence in his assessment.
“We don’t know,” Larry answered for everyone. “I don’t want to sound like the bad guy here. I sympathize, sir. I really do. Bottom line is that it’s simply too dangerous to be out on the road right now, especially for your sick wife.”
“It’s a chance I’m willing to take,” Vernon said, defiant. “Now, I’m begging for your help here. I’ve got money. I can pay you for your trouble, just name your price.”
Larry’s face then switched from apologetic to angry. He turned and looked at James. “This is why I told you not to open your doors. Do you see how this starts?”
“Thank you, Larry,” Marla said, quieting the room.
James hung his head as Larry said nothing more. The awkward tension in the air soon dissipated when James made a suggestion.
“We have a generator in the garage,” he began, garnering their attention. “It’s a long shot, but it just might get Rita’s machine working.”
Vernon placed his interlaced fingers against his chin and sighed. It may not have been the answer he wanted, but Larry did have a point. Between stranded vehicles and equally stranded passengers, the roads were a litany of hazards. Saint Louis Hospital, the nearest medical facility, was located within the heart of downtown, the very place they had barely escaped from.
James knew that under no circumstance was Larry going to drive back there, and he certainly didn’t blame him. Vernon presented them with a near impossible task in saving his sick wife before it was too late. “You’d never make the trip,” James said. “It’s that simple, Vernon, and I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is.”
“I’m not talking about the main hospital,” Vernon said, shifting in his seat. “We could take her to that clinic off Providence. What’s that, five or ten minutes away?”
Larry stood up to leave the room, stopping halfway in the hallway, where he turned around and asked to use the restroom.
James immediately looked at Marla as he left. “You can’t blame him. He’d have to be crazy to want to go back out there.”
�
�I understand,” Marla said, “but we’re talking about Rita here.”
“I had no idea things were so bad out there,” Vernon said in a vacant tone, as though speaking to himself.
James paced the living room, trying to think of a solution to all their problems, but nothing came to mind. There was no quick fix, no number to call or news bulletin to provide information. The emergency radio hadn’t offered a broadcast since the last one. And they couldn’t get bogged down in what they didn’t know.
James believed that their best course of action was in working together. But they couldn’t bring too much attention to themselves. They’d already been seen with a working station wagon. Hauling a portable generator to his neighbor’s house in the open was one step further. “We could be looking at months of no power,” he finally said.
“Why?” Vernon asked, astonished. He fell back into the couch as though he’d just received a knockout punch. He was as clearly unprepared for the disaster as James and Marla or anyone else.
“We can’t say for sure,” James admitted. “But it’s apparently happening all over the country, a direct attack on our power grids and mobility.”
Vernon leaned forward, shaking his head in a state of denial. “No. That’s impossible. Not in America. Who the hell would have the gall to do something like this? They’d be annihilated.”
“We don’t know,” Marla said, holding Vernon’s arm. “What’s important right now is helping Rita. Would you like to try our generator?”
James didn’t even know if it worked. He didn’t want to give Vernon false hope, but it was the only thing they could offer. He heard the toilet flush and the sink run from down the hall, relieved that the plumbing worked. Though he didn’t know for how long. He and Marla needed to list their resources. They would need to ration. They would need to do so much, he didn’t know where to start.
The supplies Larry had given them were a great help, but that was just the start. How long would their food supply last? What about medical and hygienic products? How far could they stretch those? The stunning lack of police or military on the street would only lead to inevitable looting. They owned only one handgun, and James had only shot it twice at the range. They had a few boxes of ammo but nothing more.
“James, are you listening?” Marla said, breaking his train of thought.
He looked over at the couch and saw Larry standing nearby. “I’m sorry. What?”
“Larry said that he’ll help get the generator working, but that you guys need to get moving,” she continued.
James’s face lit up. He turned and looked toward the garage, taken by surprise. “Let’s get it started and see if it works.” He left the room with Larry following, trying to remember where the red gas can was. They used it for the lawn mower, and last James remembered it was full. Once they walked inside the garage, Larry spoke to James in a confiding manner. Obviously, his wheels had been turning.
“I wanted to talk with you first,” he began as his hand glided across the warm hood of his station wagon. “Your neighbor is in a bad spot. You can help him, but it’s out of your hands.”
“He knows that,” James added. “And we can’t blame him for trying.” He turned from the car and saw the generator in the corner next to his tool bench. They’d had the Westinghouse 6,500-Watt fuel-powered generator for many years. If it worked at all, he and Marla weren’t in as much trouble as he feared. Larry, however, was quick to offer a warning.
“Generators are loud. There’s no way around that. You run it long enough, you’re going to have the neighborhood lined up at your door.” He suddenly switched gears to make the strangest request James had heard from him all day. “What do you think about coming to my cabin after all?”
James tripped over some boxes, falling onto the tool bench. He regained his balance and turned around, not sure if he heard Larry correctly. “You were saying something about your cabin?”
Larry stepped closer with his voice lowered. “Let me level with you, James. The governor will soon declare a state of emergency. After that, you can expect martial law.”
James studied him for a moment, unsure how to respond. “Martial law? That’s a good thing, right? It’ll help get things under control.”
“I wish it were that simple,” Larry said, looking down. His eyes then tracked upward to James, looking as frank as James knew him to be. “You see, this isn’t some temporary emergency measure. We’re talking about the suspension of our rights. They’ll herd us up, take us from our homes, and hold us at remote camps where we’ll soon be nothing more than prisoners. How else would a government deal with the magnitude of this attack? They’ll say it’s for our own good, and probably mean it.”
“Wait a damn minute,” James said, frustrated and waving him off. “You’re going off the deep end with this conspiracy stuff.”
“It’s no conspiracy,” Larry said in all seriousness. “We’re talking the natural course of things, government protocol during a homeland attack. And we know it’s not just here, it’s everywhere.”
“One broadcast—” James began, only to be cut off.
“Who cares?” Larry said. “It’s the only thing we’ve heard so far.”
Not wanting to prolong any kind of argument, James conceded with a shrug. “Okay. So, the government is going to put us into camps. Kind of makes sense. But why would you even want me and Marla at your cabin?”
“I didn’t say anything about Marla.” Silence fell between them as James narrowed his eyes. Larry then leaned against his knees, having a good laugh. “You ought to see the look on your face. Priceless.” He rocked back as he drew a breath. “Kidding. I’m only kidding.”
James crossed his arms, unamused. “Very funny, but my question still stands.”
“Because we need help at the cabin, happy?” Larry said. “My wife and I aren’t getting any younger, and we could be stuck out there for a while. There are two rooms, and another couple could really help us out.”
James wasn’t sure what to say. He hadn’t considered for a moment any option beyond hunkering down in the safety of their home. Larry offered refuge based on his theory that the United States government would transform into an authoritarian state. Marla would be a hard sell. She wasn’t going to leave their home to hide in the woods, James was sure.
“I appreciate the offer, Larry. I really do. I’ll have to talk to Marla first.”
Larry nodded. “I leave tonight, so let me know.”
James returned his attention to the generator and pulled it from the corner, dragging it across the floor. Larry moved beside him and crouched down to get a better look. The generator’s gauges were dusty.
Its green paint was chipped and faded, and there were cobwebs on the bottom railing. James removed the fuel cap and glanced inside. It was dark in the garage, even with the door to the house open, and he couldn’t tell how much fuel was inside. He took the fuel can and began to pour. The liquid flowed, revealing that the generator hadn’t much fuel to begin with.
“Also need help filling up my empty cans,” Larry added.
Fuel spilled at the top and James stopped. “What cans?”
“The ones in my car,” he said as though the answer were obvious. “How do you think I’m getting around? With my Chevron card?”
James put the pieces together as he set his own nearly empty five-gallon can onto the ground. “You mean to siphon the fuel from other vehicles.”
“That’s right,” Larry said. “Have you ever done that before?”
“Can’t say that I have,” James said, screwing the cap back on. What else was Larry going to ask him? Did he ever skin a rabbit? Of course, he imagined that Larry wanted to find out what he knew and didn’t know, especially since inviting him back to his cabin. If James was being honest, he’d tell Larry not to waste his time. Marla would never go for it.
When it sounded as if the tank was partly filled, James said excitedly, “Stand back and cross your fingers.” He lifted the handle of
the pull cord and was about to yank it when Larry suddenly grabbed his arm and stopped him.
“Before you even take the risk, listen to me.” The look in his eyes was alarming, and James wondered what could possibly have crossed Larry’s mind to prevent giving the generator a test run. “Even if your generator starts, which is unlikely, we don’t know if that will be enough to get this woman’s dialysis machine running. Its circuitry could be completely fried just like everything else.”
James lowered his arm as the disappointing thought began to register. If that was the case, they’d have no other choice but to transport Rita somewhere she could get help. Larry would certainly object, but James no longer cared. Marla was right. They weren’t going to simply do nothing. All the frustrations of the day channeled through him as he gripped the pull-cord handle and then forcibly yanked it back, practically pulling the entire unit with him.
After a brief chug, the generator shook and rattled to a glorious start, spewing exhaust from its rear pipe. James had experienced a lucky streak with some things, and the generator was one of them. He then gripped the side carry bar and looked at Larry, eager to get moving.
“You ready? We can walk it straight through the backyard.”
Larry hesitated, studying the generator before pitching in to help move it. He knelt and started reading something printed on a side plate hidden from James’s view. He then nodded to himself and grabbed the other handle with both hands. “Let’s do this.”
They counted off and lifted the heavy bulk, hurrying through the kitchen and into the backyard. James began to realize that he and Marla could help Larry, and he knew it. If that was the case, maybe going to the cabin wasn’t such a bad deal after all.
10
Lockdown
Afternoon brought a gray smoky mist floating in the distance, but it hadn’t quite reached their neighborhood yet. Whether it was a sign of more explosions or fires or something else was impossible to tell. Those outside their homes, lost without electricity and technology, seemed uncertain whether to stay or leave. Where would they go? Bicycles were everywhere, pedaled by excited neighborhood kids investigating the freak occurrence.
Hideaway (Book 0): An EMP Thriller Page 10
