December 5, 2014

Hell is empty and all the devils are here.

—William Shakespeare, The Tempest

San Diego, California

It was another beautiful December morning in Southern California; unlike most of the country, it was a nice sixty-one degrees with blue sunny skies. Perfect for Gordon’s morning run. He cherished his daily run; even just twenty minutes to clear his mind while the rest of the neighborhood headed to work was enough to make him content. As he ran, he thought about his conversation with Samantha the night before. He told her he was taking the family to Idaho so they could safely wait out the nonstop attacks and be in an environment where they could relax. She completely agreed and was already packing for the trip. Even though it meant leaving behind San Diego’s perfect weather for feet of snow, he couldn’t wait to get there. He and Samantha only needed a couple days to plan and pack, so they could be there by the weekend. They had told the kids this morning about the trip, using the prospect of a white Christmas as their excuse. The kids were very excited; they loved Idaho and looked forward to playing in the snow.

Gordon stopped at a busy intersection, pressed the crosswalk button, and waited patiently for the red “Do Not Walk” signal to change. He took the time to stretch; he bent over at the waist and reached for the ground, stretching his lower back and hamstrings. He straightened up and checked the sign; it was black, no red or white. Suddenly, two cars collided in front of him. Before he could shake the shock of the first crash, another car slammed into the first two. He watched as even more cars stacked up on one another. It had been a while since he had seen an accident. Gordon stood looking at the wrecked cars, then slowly noticed that no cars were moving on the usually heavily trafficked road. He then noticed that all of the lights in the area were blacked out, not flashing red as they normally would during an outage. He looked left up the road and saw all the cars stopped or slowly coasting. Looking right, he saw the same thing. He raised his eyebrows with curiosity.

“What is going on?” a clearly disgruntled driver said, slamming his car door and looking around.

“My car just died and now it won’t start,” another driver said to the first.

Gordon was just standing there taking in everything around him.

“What’s that?” someone yelled loudly pointing to something in the eastern sky.

Gordon followed the man’s finger and saw a source of light in the sky, smaller than the sun and not quite as bright.

As he stared at the glowing orb he could hear others commenting on it, while the people involved in accidents yelled. He heard people complaining that their mobile phones and cars were not working.

“Oh my God, it’s going to crash!” a woman screamed from down the street, standing outside her car.

Gordon turned to the woman and followed her sight line back up to the sky. A plane was free-falling. It was far away, but close enough for him to see that it was a commercial airliner. The plane looked like a toy as it fell from the sky. The whole scenario felt surreal. He just stood there, frozen, watching the plane fall until it crashed into a distant hillside and exploded into a fiery red ball of carnage.

Screams of horror followed the crash of the plane. Many of those around Gordon were, like him, frozen by what they had just witnessed. Finally breaking his temporary paralysis, Gordon started to run for home. He knew he needed to get back as quickly as he could.

As he ran toward his house, Gordon’s military training kicked in. He started to assess the situation and bits of information began falling into place. His heart was pounding. Everywhere he looked, people were standing outside their cars holding their mobile phones in the air. It all seemed so unreal, but he had a feeling he knew what might be happening.

It was obvious his hometown had been attacked, but he didn’t know if something worse was coming. As he crested a hill that had a commanding view of the area for miles, he saw smoke in the distance and, in one area, what appeared to be large flames licking the sky. The fire and smoke were miles away, but something dynamic had happened. When he came to the intersection that led into his community, he saw those streets were littered with stalled cars, broken glass, and other debris from numerous car accidents. The lights were not working and the guards at the gate were just standing there talking to the owners of the stalled cars. Nobody was moving.

As Gordon ran past them he overheard a guard state plainly, “Ma’am, we have experienced some power and phone outages, I am sure it will be back on shortly, so let’s not panic.”

Reaching the pedestrian gate, he unlocked it with his hard key and kept running. Finally making it to his street, he saw neighbors outside staring at the mobile phones in their hands, pressing buttons, apparently attempting to power the devices back on.

Without slowing his pace, Gordon shouted, “Get back inside now! Get inside and take cover!”

No one listened to him; they all stayed put looking confused and bewildered.

After many hard miles, he made it to his front door. He was breathing hard, shaking, and trying to focus as he grabbed his keys. His hands and fingers were slippery from sweat, making it hard to steady the right key.

“C’mon, damn it!”

As Gordon still fumbled his keys, the door opened. Samantha stood in the doorway, with Haley on her hip and Hunter hugging her leg.

“What’s going on? Nothing is working!” Samantha exclaimed urgently. She was clearly nervous; the past months of attacks had already put her on edge. This did not help.

Gordon walked in and told her sternly “Follow me” as he passed her at the threshold.

She did so without hesitation, but kept asking, “What is going on?”

“Samantha, I don’t have time to explain everything. Please just listen to me.” Gordon guided them to the built-in desks in the kitchen area. “I need you all to get under there now and stay until I get back.”

“Gordon, why? Please talk to me.” Samantha’s eyes were wide open; her fear was visible in her expression. Hunter and Haley could pick up on the tension and urgency. Haley started to cry.

Samantha kissed her and said softly, “Everything will be okay, honey, I promise.”

“I’m scared, Mommy,” Haley said, burying her head in Samantha’s shoulder, arms wrapped around her neck.

“Me too, Mommy,” Hunter said soon after. He wasn’t crying, but Gordon could see the fear on his son’s face.

“Please, Sam, just listen to me and trust me. Get under there and wait for me.”

“Where are you going? Why are you leaving?” Samantha asked, refusing to let go of his arm.

“Honey, I’m not leaving the house, I’m just prepping some things. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Please, Gordon, don’t leave us,” Samantha pleaded, desperately tightening her grip on his forearm.

Gordon knelt down and hugged his whole family, “I promise you, I’ll be right back.” He kissed Samantha, jumped to his feet, and walked briskly into the kitchen.

Gordon plugged the sink and turned on the water, then ran into the closest bedroom and did the same to the sink and tub in there. He proceeded to run throughout the house, closing every drain and turning on every faucet. Coming back into the kitchen, he saw his family tucked neatly under the desk all huddled together. They peered out at him; their distress evident.

“Almost done, guys,” Gordon yelled a little too cheerfully attempting to calm them as he walked into the pantry.

Gordon grabbed every open jug, container and glass in the kitchen and filled them all with water. His hands were shaking. He was scared, too, but he knew he had to get this done. He needed to save as much water as possible. His hunch about the attack would mean that water would soon be a rare commodity.

Gordon thought of the many times he had been tempted to buy a five-hundred-gallon holding tank of potable water, but never actually did. Before any guilt could set in, he forced those thoughts out of his mind. Times like this were not about looking backward with regret, but looking toward securing the present and winning the future. After filling all the containers he went back to his family.

As he sat on the floor next to them, Samantha grabbed his hand and asked again, trying to seem calm, “Gordon, what’s going on?”

As badly as Gordon wanted to be reassuring, to soothe his wife’s anxiety, he felt a responsibility to be honest. “There appears to have been some sort of attack that has disabled the power and all electrical devices. These sorts of attacks usually precede a nuclear attack.”

She squeezed his hand hard and they met each others’ eyes. “Is this it? Is this how it ends?”

“I don’t—” Gordon paused. “Sam, I seriously don’t know. All I know is what I remember reading and some training I went through years ago. I love you. And if this is it, then at least we’re here together.”

Hugging each other, they said nothing else, and listened to the surrounding silence.

An hour went by and nothing else had happened that they could tell. Gordon assumed the other shoe wasn’t dropping.

“I think it might be okay,” he said as they crawled out from underneath the desk and stretched.

“Now what?” Samantha asked.

“Mommy, I have to go potty,” Haley said, grabbing herself.

“Okay, honey, go ahead,” Samantha told Haley patting her on the head.

“Hey, guys, this time will be okay, but we will have to look at not using the toilets anymore,” Gordon said.

“Why?” Samantha asked looking bewildered by Gordon’s statement.

“Because if what I think has happened, the waste treatment systems will soon start to back up and not work properly. Plus, we should preserve as much water as possible.”

“So what do you suggest?” Samantha asked, now sounding irritated.

“Hey, Sam, I don’t like it any more than you do, but we might have to create a latrine outside.”

“What? You want us to start going to the bathroom outside?”

“Until we can figure out what’s going on, yes,” Gordon answered bluntly.

“Gordon, that’s ridiculous!” Samantha snapped back.

Gordon walked over to the sink and grabbed one of the many glasses of water and drank it. He set the empty glass down and said, “Samantha, enough; something bad has happened, you either adapt to the situation or you die.”

“Die?”

“Daddy, are we going to die?” Hunter asked, still standing next to the desk.

“No, honey. I didn’t mean to say that to Mommy,” Gordon replied softly, changing his tone completely. Gordon walked over to Hunter and knelt down. “Can you take your sister and go play in the play room while Mommy and Daddy talk, please?”

“Okay, Daddy, but can I have some juice first?”

Gordon thought of his children’s innocence. Hunter had no idea that he could be facing the end of the world; he wants juice. Gordon touched his son’s face. “Sure, son, go grab a couple of juice boxes in the pantry.”

Hunter grabbed two juices and headed toward the bathroom to wait for Haley to finish. When she opened the door, he grabbed her hand and walked her into the playroom.

“So, let’s talk,” Gordon said to Samantha.

They went over to the couch and sat down. Neither could relax; they sat rigidly on the edge of the cushions.

Gordon started in hastily, “Here is what I think is going on. Obviously, you’re more than aware of all the terrorist activity we’ve been having over the past months. Well, today we were attacked with a much larger weapon. When I was out running, I saw cars stall and stop working, street lights go out, and planes fall out of the sky. Here at home all the power is out, your phone doesn’t turn on. Nothing works. I think someone hit us with some sort of EMP weapon.”

“EMP?” Samantha stopped him.

“ ‘EMP’ stands for electromagnetic pulse,” he answered directly. “It essentially overloads anything electrical and fries it; that’s why your phone, the lights, and cars don’t work. I am guessing the entire local grid is down. I don’t know the extent of the damage because I haven’t gone out to see what’s going on, but I think I’m right.”

“So, when will the power come back on?”

“It all really depends if this is a local thing, regional, or national. Worse case is it’s national and power could be out for months, if not a year.”

Samantha interjected impulsively, “A year! How will we survive? What will happen?”

“Samantha, like I said, I don’t know. One thing I want to do is see if by chance our car made it or not. Then, since there’s daylight left, I want to try to go to the store and pick up anything we will need for the long haul.”

Gordon slid closer to Samantha and put his hand over hers. She was clearly upset and he needed to at least appear calm; he needed to be the rock. Comforting her, he said, “We will make it through this, I promise you.”

Musa Qala, Helmand Province, Afghanistan

“Van Zandt, get off your ass; we have a battalion formation, right now!” said Gunny Smith, kicking his cot.

“Roger that, Gunny,” Sebastian said, swinging his legs off the cot.

When he left the tent, he noticed a sense of excitement on the base. Seeing Master Sergeant Simpson about-face, Sebastian knew he needed to hurry. As soon as he made it to his unit he saw Barone approach Simpson.

“Battalion all present and accounted for!” Simpson said while saluting.

Barone saluted him back. “Thank you, master sergeant.” Simpson brought his salute back and marched off. Looking out over the men all standing at attention, Barone finished by yelling, “Battalion at ease!”

Barone was a tall and sturdy-looking man. He had a rugged face, light eyes and thick, dark hair that he kept groomed with a flattop haircut. His stature coupled with his personality made him appear like a giant to some of the Marines. He looked out on the fifteen hundred Marines in front of him. While Marine life was difficult for many, it came easy to Barone. This occasion was different, though; to have to address the Marines about any situations back home was difficult. The whole reason these Marines traveled so far from home was to defend their loved ones, but now their homeland was threatened, their loved ones in harm’s way, and they were about as far away as they could be from them.

“Marines, I am not going to stand here and bullshit you. You know me well enough to know I am a plain-spoken Marine. I tell it like it is. I don’t sugarcoat it. I don’t glaze it over.” Barone began walking back and forth in front of the assembled Marines. “So I will tell you right now that our mission here has ended, effective immediately.”

The Marines of 2/4 all started looking to one another for clarification. They still had four more months on their deployment, so they all knew something significant must have happened.

Barone stopped his pacing to drop the real news. “Marines, initial reports suggest our country has suffered a massive attack. What we do know is coming from assets we have in the air over the country. The intelligence we have received so far indicates that some type of nuclear event has occurred. One struck Washington, D.C., and another device detonated in the atmosphere above the Midwest. It also appears that major communications are down with our allies in Europe and Asia.”

Sebastian was in shock. His mind immediately raced to Gordon, Samantha, and the kids. He couldn’t believe it, the bastards had done it; they had finally done it, they had gone nuclear.

Barone continued on, “Marines, it has not been confirmed. Let me say it again, this has not been confirmed, but with the nuclear attack on our Capitol, our commander in chief, the president, the vice president, and the entire Congress may be among the casualties. If this is indeed the case, our enemies have effectively cut the head off of our government. At this moment, we are operating under procedures put into place in anticipation of a situation like this. Marines, it appears that we are in the midst of World War Three. We do not yet know who actually orchestrated the attack, but I can tell you this, we will find out and when we do, they will have to face the United States Marine Corps!”

Some Marines started yelling “Ooh Rah!” in response to Barone’s address.

“Marines, we have to clear out of Afghanistan immediately. We have birds coming in tomorrow morning at zero-six-hundred. They will take us to ships positioned in the Arabian Sea. From there, we’ll sail to the East Coast of the United States and assist with the search and rescue efforts around Washington, D.C.”

He looked around at all the Marines in front of him and then continued.

“Marines, I know all of you are concerned for your family members back home. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t, too, but we have a mission; we are United States Marines and we must not fail. Our country needs us now more than ever! We must be vigilant. Tonight, pack your gear and be ready to depart this wasteland tomorrow!”

Barone walked back to his position centered on the battalion, stood at attention and yelled, “Battalion attention!”

Master Sergeant Simpson walked around Barone until he faced him, and then saluted.

Barone saluted back and said, “Top, give final instructions to the company first sergeants and get these Marines prepared to ship out at zero-six-hundred tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” Simpson replied.

Barone finished his salute and walked away.

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

“Nurse! Nurse!” Brad Conner yelled down the darkened hall of the hospital. The power was out everywhere, but most disturbingly the power was off to his son’s life support system.

The stress was visible on Conner’s face as he continued yelling for assistance, receiving no response. All he could see was hospital staff scrambling in the partial darkness, frantic and confused. Other voices echoed from rooms up and down the ICU wing.

“Bobby, it will be all right,” Julia Conner whispered to her son, who lay motionless in the hospital bed. Tears streamed down her face. “Brad, anything? Is anyone coming? What happened to the power?”

Conner turned and looked back at his wife. “It will be okay, the emergency generators will kick on any minute.” He started to fear the worst, but kept telling her that everything would be fine, even though he was concerned. The pain on Julia’s face was something he’d never seen. Her dark brown hair hung down covering her fine features. She was always put together, never one to be seen without her hair done or makeup on outside of the house. Julia always wore the best in clothing and had maintained an attractive figure throughout her life.

He allowed a few more moments to pass without any hospital staff checking in before storming down the hallway toward the nurse’s station. As he approached, it became apparent he would find no help there. What little staff remained was hopelessly trying to see if anything would come on. He overheard several nurses mumbling to themselves that the emergency generators should have come on by now.

“Excuse me,” Conner tried to interject, but no one paid him any attention. “Excuse me!” this time at full volume.

One nurse stopped her conversation with a doctor to shoot back plainly, “Sir, we are working on the issue and will have the power back on very soon.”

“That might be fine for you and me, but my son in room 303 has no life support and I need your assistance now!” He slammed his hand on the counter. “NOW!”

The nurse turned to him, visibly irritated by him and frustrated by the greater situation. She repeated, with attitude in her voice, “Sir, the power will be on soon. We will go check on your son very, very soon.”

“Listen, you don’t know who I am; I am the Speaker of the United States House of Representatives. I am not asking you, I am telling you, to go down to room 303 and check on my son, now!”

Her eyes opened wide. She was visibly disturbed by his last statement. “Take me to your son’s room.”

She came out from around the counter at the nurse’s station and ran beside Conner, down the hall to room 303.

When they entered the room, Julia was sobbing uncontrollably, her head placed against Bobby’s limp hand. The nurse immediately approached their son and checked his pulse. She reached over him and grabbed a stethoscope and put it on. She continued checking his vitals, listening intently but hearing nothing. The nurse dropped the stethoscope and ripped open Bobby’s hospital gown to administer CPR. Julia, with tears streaming down her face and gripped by fear, sat frozen, watching the nurse desperately try to revive her son. Conner came to her side and put his hands on her shoulders.

The nurse administered CPR for what seemed like forever, pausing every few minutes to check his vitals. Eventually, she ran to the loud and chaotic hallway and yelled, “Dr. Rivera, Dr. Rivera!”

“He’s down here in 311!”

“I need him in 303, stat!”

No reply.

The nurse turned back to Bobby. She again checked his vitals and continued the CPR. Another few minutes passed and, after checking Bobby’s vitals one last time, she turned to Conner and his wife and whispered, “I am so very sorry.”

“No, no! You keep trying, don’t you stop!” Julia screamed hysterically. “That’s my only boy there, don’t you stop!”

“Ma’am, I have tried; I could give him more CPR but he’s gone, there’s nothing more I can do,” the nurse replied, her voice subdued and defeated.

“Goddamn you! Get someone else in here who will try,” Julia yelled at the nurse. She turned to her husband, “Brad, goddamn it, do something!”

“Julia, I think he’s gone.” Conner said, sadly, to his grieving and hysterical wife. He then lowered his head in sorrow.

“No, no!” she said, hitting her husband in the chest twice. She pushed past him, walking toward the nurse who began to back away, apprehensive about what was coming toward her.

“Get out of my way!” Julia said to the nurse. She then bent over and placed her ear against her son’s chest. She started to try to perform CPR herself; it was obvious she did not know what she was doing.

Both the nurse and Conner watched Julia, stunned. Conner stood there for a brief time before motioning for the nurse to leave. He walked over to his wife, who was still unsuccessfully attempting CPR, and placed both arms around her. She tried to shrug him off at first, but eventually gave in and collapsed onto her dead son. The hospital’s chaos faded as they sank into their own despair.

Musa Qala, Helmand Province, Afghanistan

“Holy shit, I cannot believe this is happening,” Sebastian said to Lance Corporal Tomlinson while stuffing his sea bag.

“I know; I’m shocked too; I just hope my folks and girlfriend are cool. My parents live up in northeast PA and you know my girl is out in O’side.”

Grabbing more gear and forcing it into his bag, Sebastian said, “Whoever did this needs to die, all of them need to die. I just hope I get them in my scope; I’ll fucking kill them.”

“Yep, I hope we get a chance. I want to put one in their nasty grape too,” Tomlinson said.

“I just wish we weren’t going to the East Coast. I wish we were going back home. I know my brother will take care of everything but I want to be there to help him. God knows what kind of crazy shit is going on,” Sebastian said.

“What do you mean, bro?” Tomlinson asked, sitting down on his cot next to his half-filled sea bag. He pulled a tin of Copenhagen out and began tapping it. Tomlinson was tall and very thin. He had reddish hair and fair skin. His face was covered in old scars from acne. He didn’t take much pride in his appearance. He was the opposite of Sebastian, who made sure he was always squared away and put together.

“Look at what happened to New Orleans after Katrina or what kind of crazy shit happens during blackouts. People go fucking crazy when the lights go out and stay out. There’s no law and order. It’s a recipe for disaster and mob rule.”

“Really bro, you think people will start going crazy back home?”

“Yes, I do. Most people are idiots, so if there is no power, there is no water, no food, no medical supplies, the list goes on. This is not good. Everything will go south, trust me, and here we are in fucking Afghanistan, heading to the East Coast. We need to be going back home to help our friends and family.”

“You’re right, bro. My girlfriend can barely even program the DVR to watch her stupid House Hookers of Orange County show. Not to mention she never keeps food in the house,” Tomlinson said with a chuckle.

“Tomlinson, what has happened is bad, very bad. An EMP destroys everything electrical. Millions and millions of people will die and the only way to help our families, friends, and stupid girlfriends is to be there, not all the way on the other coast.” Sebastian was getting himself worked up. He tossed the items he had in his hands onto the cot.

“Well, not much we can do, Van Zandt, we have our orders and it’s back east,” Tomlinson stated, shaking his head side to side.

“I know, and I fucking hate it.” Sebastian sat down on his cot, clearly angry and frustrated.

San Diego, California

“The car is dead. The battery still works but the car won’t turn over,” Gordon told Samantha as he walked in from the garage.

“So what are we going to do for transportation?” Samantha asked.

“Here’s my plan. Right now it’s been about two hours since the attack. Most people don’t know what’s going on, I’m going to take advantage of the ignorance and go to the store and get as much stuff as I can before people start to freak out and clear it out,” Gordon said as he walked toward his office.

“How are you going to get there?” Samantha followed him into his office.

Gordon grabbed his desk chair and positioned it underneath attic space opening. He stood on the chair and pushed it open. Dust and insulation fell onto his face.

“Damn it,” he sputtered in between coughs as he spit out debris. He reached up and fished around till he felt what he was looking for.

“What are you hiding up there?” Samantha asked curiously.

“Something we’ll need,” he said, stepping off of the chair and placing an ammo can on his desk. He looked at Samantha, winked, and opened the can.

“Cash? You hid this from me? You never told me you were hiding cash and, by the looks of it, a lot of it.”

“I may not have been prepared for this type of situation, but I prepared for an economic crash. Good thing I was paranoid about that, because now it will at least come in handy until people realize that it has zero value,” Gordon said, pulling out stacks of cash.

“How much do we have?” Samantha asked, picking up a stack and thumbing it like a deck of cards.

“About seventy-five thousand,” he answered.

“What? Where did we get that?”

“It’s our retirement money,” he answered, feeling a bit guilty. He had taken it out in October before the markets crashed. With hindsight on his side, his guilt melted away and he felt proud of his decision.

“I knew you were getting nervous, but when were you planning on telling me?” Samantha reached into the can and pulled out another stack.

“I don’t know, but does it really matter now? I need to take some cash with me to the store and buy as much as I can,” he said, putting a small stack in his pocket. He put the rest back in the ammo can, closed it, and placed it back in his hiding spot.

“So here’s the plan. I’m going to ride my mountain bike to Albertson’s. I’m going to wear a pack, attach the basket from the kids’ playroom on the front handle bar, and attach the kids’ trailer on the back. That will give me a lot of space to bring food and supplies back. What I need from you is to make sure the kids do not use the toilets anymore. And keep this in close proximity,” he said, handing her his favorite Sig Sauer handgun. Then he started for the garage to prepare for his trip.

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

“Excuse me, sir,” the hospital administrator said, looking nervous about interrupting Conner and his wife, who were still sitting next to the bed that held their dead son. But he felt he needed to because the situation in the hospital was deteriorating. He hoped the Speaker could leverage his power and influence to get something done.

Conner lifted his head and looked toward the door.

“Yes,” Conner said. His voice was labored and his face was filled with sadness.

“Sir, excuse me for the interruption at this most painful moment; but I was wondering if I could have a minute of your time?”

Julia did not look up at all; she rested her head against her son’s hand. Conner stood up and walked toward the hospital administrator.

When Conner reached him, he put his hand on his shoulder and led him out of the room into the still-dark hallway. The hospital was even more chaotic than before. Everyone was panicked and confused; flashlight beams darted around in the darkness. Everyone was busy, but no one seemed to actually be accomplishing anything.

“Yes, how can I help?” Conner asked.

“Sir, let me again express my condolences for your son’s loss. We are trying as hard as we can to get power back up, but nothing is working.”

“What is wrong with the generators?” Conner asked.

“That’s just it, the hospital’s generators are hardwired into the electrical system and they won’t turn on, they’re dead. The other troubling thing, sir, is that no one’s phones will work. That includes our staff’s personal mobile phones. Their cars don’t start either. We tried to send some of our staff to Home Depot to buy some portable generators, but their cars just won’t start.”

Conner interrupted him and asked, “Nothing works?”

“Yes, sir.”

Conner had been so consumed with his son’s death that he had lost track of time and what was going on. He grabbed his own mobile phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen; it was completely dead. He tried turning it on, nothing. He then started walking down the hallway to the nurses’ station.

“Sir?” the hospital administrator asked, following him briskly.

When he reached the station he leaned over and grabbed a phone, it was dead; he started clicking around to get a line, nothing. He dropped the phone and walked to a large window in the elevator lobby, which looked out over the large parking lot. He saw people by their cars, hoods up. Nothing was moving at all. He then looked at the horizon and noticed the smoke rising from various parts of the city.

As he scanned up and down the lot, he saw movement; an old pickup truck pulled up to the hospital ER entrance. He looked closer; it was an old F-100 Ford pickup. The driver jumped out, ran over to the passenger side and started pulling someone out who obviously needed medical attention. He stood there for another minute before he finally snapped out of his trance and realized that something very serious had happened. As he turned and ran, he bumped into the administrator, but continued down the hall to his son’s room.

“Julia, Julia?” he said as he ran into the room.

“What?” she looked up quickly, she could tell by the sound in his voice that something was wrong. “Brad, what is it?”

“We have to go!” he said authoritatively. “NOW!”

“I am not going anywhere,” she said, squeezing her son’s hand tighter. “What’s wrong?”

“Julia, I need you to come now!” he demanded, grabbing her arm.

She pulled away from him and protested, “No, I’m not leaving Bobby!”

“Listen, we have been attacked. The city has been attacked!”

“What?”

“That’s why there’s no power. We’ve been attacked. We have to go.”

“Brad, I am not leaving. You can go and come back for me later; but I’m not leaving until we make arrangements for Bobby.”

He paused, frustrated and unsure of what to do. He considered forcing her, but that would only cause problems. She’d at least be safe at the hospital, and he’d come back for her as soon as he could. “Okay, you stay here, but I need to go back to the hotel and get Dylan and find out what is going on. I’ll have the hospital make the arrangements to move Bobby’s body to Tinker Air Force base as soon as we can find transportation that works.”

Defeated and tired, Julia sat back down next to her son’s bed. “Okay,” she replied without even looking at Brad.

Conner stood for a brief moment, feeling torn. He wanted to stay but knew he must go. Knowing something terrible had happened, he needed to find out what. He turned and left the room. Finding the hospital administrator, he gave him instructions on how to handle his wife and pledged that he would return with support. Time was of the essence. Remembering the truck from moments before he ran toward the bay window and looked down. The old truck was still there. Not wasting a moment, he located the staircase and ran for it.

Cautiously moving down the darkened stairwell, he thought to himself that maybe this one time he should have had his protective detail with him. Leaving them at the hotel with his aide made sense before, but now he regretted that decision. Reaching the ground level, he opened the door and ran down the hall. The scene downstairs was similar to that of his son’s floor, complete disarray. People were all around looking at their phones, many lined up at the information station asking questions of a couple of overwhelmed volunteers who were just stating the hospital’s canned response that the power would soon be restored. He knew better. He found an exit and made it out onto the curb. To his right, the old truck sat idling in front of the ER entrance. He ran to the truck, peered inside, and saw blood on the passenger seat. The driver’s window was down and he saw the door was unlocked. Without hesitation, he grabbed the handle, swung it open, and jumped behind the wheel. He threw it in gear, slammed down on the accelerator, and took off out of the hospital parking lot and toward the hotel.

San Diego, California

“Here, Daddy, let me help,” Hunter said, walking into the garage and toward Gordon.

Gordon was pumping up the tires on his mountain bike; he stopped and looked up. “Okay son, come here; fast now, I have to go.”

Hunter walked over and placed his small hands on top of the manual pump. Gordon slowly brought the pump handle down and up, the tire expanded, and the joy of helping his father was making Hunter’s day. Together they pumped up the tires on the bike and trailer.

Looking at Hunter, Gordon felt proud. His son wanted nothing more but to contribute. He tousled Hunter’s brown hair. Hunter had Gordon’s look, light-colored eyes and dark hair. He was tall for his age, but had a strong, lean build for being only seven years old.

“Thank you, Hunter; here, finish up by putting the pump back.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Hunter responded, cradling the pump and walking it over to the cabinet.

“Hunter, when you’re done with that I need you to help Daddy with something else.”

Hunter quickly put away the pump and came running over. “What, Daddy?”

“I am leaving in a few minutes to go get some things at the store. Please promise me you’ll help Mommy with anything she asks and take care of your little sister. Okay?” Gordon knelt down to meet Hunter’s eyes.

“Okay, Daddy, when are you coming back?”

“Soon, son, I promise. Now can you promise me what I asked?”

“I promise.” Hunter felt important since his father had given him some responsibility.

“Thank you,” Gordon replied. He gave Hunter a big hug and kissed him on the cheek. “Run on in now and see what you can do to help your mother.”

Hunter opened the door and stepped in, but before the door could close behind him, he poked his head out again. “Daddy, can you get some ice cream?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Gordon said with a smile. This made Gordon feel more protective; he wanted to ensure his kids’ innocence remained as long as it could.

Gordon stuffed some cash into a fanny pack that already held his Sig Sauer P239 pistol. He also packed a small first aid kit, water, and a headlamp. He put on his pack and walked the bike with trailer out of the garage. After manually closing the garage door behind him, he looked down his street. Many of his neighbors were out in front of their homes. Some were holding their phones, still attempting with no luck to get them to work; others were working on their cars. It was now late morning and people still had no clue what was going on. He knew he had a small window of time to get more supplies before the real panic set in. He climbed on his bike and started his trek toward the store.

As he rode, he kept going over a mental list of what he needed to get. He wanted to make sure he picked up what was important and what would last. He wasn’t sure how long it would be before all hell broke loose and everything would be gone. His quick thinking about the water could help them last longer. He knew he should tell his neighbors, but not until he returned from the store with what he needed first. As he rode on, he passed disabled car after car. Most had now been abandoned.

When Gordon pulled into the Albertson’s parking lot, the scene was basically the same as on the streets. He saw many cars with their hoods up. People just standing around and talking, they all just seemed to be waiting for the power to come back, something Gordon knew that would not happen anytime soon. He quickly thought to himself about how as a society we all had become dependent and interdependent on our system and the comforts of having easily available electricity. Once people found out what had happened, he knew widespread panic would descend upon the city. This was Gordon’s only opportunity to secure vital resources.

The front doors were shut with a handwritten sign taped on that read, “Closed Due to Power Outage.”

He parked the bike next to a large column, jumped off, and walked quickly back to the trailer; he opened a pouch on the side and pulled out a small chain and lock. He chained and locked the bike and trailer to the column. With most cars not working, his bike might be tempting to steal.

He walked up to the doors and looked inside; it was hard to see far. He looked from left to right seeing if anyone was still in there. He started to knock loudly. After a full minute of knocking, someone finally emerged from the darkness and walked up to the doors. The gentleman looked like he might be a manager. He pointed at the handwritten sign. Gordon acknowledged that and then held up a wad of cash. The man stared at Gordon’s hand, wide-eyed, paused, and then pried the doors open.

“What can I help you with, sir?” the grocery store manager asked.

“I need to get some supplies. I understand you’re closed but I have cash and I can pay extra . . . if you know what I mean,” Gordon said quietly, leaning in close to the manager for the last part.

The store manager looked left and right then whispered, “You aren’t an Albertson’s employee or something are you?”

“Nope,” Gordon replied.

“What do you need?”

“Canned food, batteries, a few propane tanks and whatever else I see. I have plenty of cash to go around,” Gordon said, waving the stack of bills.

“Listen, put the cash down and step inside,” the manager said after looking left and right again.

“Can I bring my bike and trailer in? It will help to load up everything directly,” Gordon said, pointing toward the rack to which his bike was chained.

Looking over Gordon’s shoulder, the manager said, “Sure, but hurry.”

Gordon didn’t hesitate; he turned around, unlocked the bike and trailer, and walked them into the store. He put on his headlamp, knowing he’d need it as they got farther into the store. He was familiar with its layout and went right for the canned food isle. He started to fill the trailer up with canned vegetables, tuna, chicken, and fruit. The manager showed back up with a notepad and was writing everything down. Gordon didn’t say a thing to him. He took every battery he could get his hands on. He found the nuts and grabbed all the dry roasted almonds, peanuts, and cashews they had. He then proceeded to the pharmacy area. Most of the over-the-counter drugs were locked up, but he was able to grab bandages, band aids, antiseptic ointments, painkillers, and antihistamines. He essentially grabbed anything he thought they could need to last them for years.

“Looks like you’re stocking up for the end of the world,” the manager quipped.

“Well, you never know. I like to be prepared,” Gordon replied without slowing down. He darted over to another aisle and grabbed every box of powdered milk and powdered Gatorade in stock. He finally paused for a moment, just to pull his checklist from his pocket. He then inspected the trailer and all the contents he had so far. He needed a bit more room for some propane tanks but then decided it would be better to have more food than fuel for cooking. He returned to the canned food aisle to grab more and more. He cleaned off the shelves of tuna, meat, sardines, and salmon.

After a solid forty minutes of “shopping,” the trailer, basket, and backpack were full. The tires on the trailer stressed under the weight.

“What do I owe you?” he asked the manager.

“Let’s go to the customer service desk and I’ll grab a pad.”

Gordon followed him toward the counter where he saw a display of Albertson’s baked goods. He paused and looked at the doughnuts and ginger snap cookies. He had always had a sweet tooth and any sort of treat would be scarce soon. He grabbed as many doughnuts and packages of cookies as he could squeeze into the limited space of the trailer.

While the manager scribbled numbers on his pad, Gordon checked and double-checked his trailer and the store shelves around the customer service area. He noticed a few pegs filled with lighters and tossed the whole lot onto his pile of goods.

“Sir, your total is one thousand, eight hundred and seventy-five dollars,” the manager said looking down at his notepad and writing the amount down.

“Will three thousand work? The rest is a tip,” Gordon said, handing the man over a small stack of hundred-dollar bills.

“Yes, it will,” the manager said, excited and surprised.

As the money changed hands, a loud knocking from the store’s front doors startled them both. The manager quickly pocketed the cash and made his way toward the front. “Stay here,” he instructed as he walked away.

Gordon took a few steps away from the counter so he could see the front doors. He saw the manager doing exactly what he had done when Gordon knocked. He didn’t say a word, he just pointed at the sign. The person on the other side shrugged his shoulders and walked off. The manager came back and said, “Listen, I don’t need any trouble, so follow me to the back and go out that way.”

“I can do that,” Gordon agreed. He followed the manager to the back of the store, through the warehouse, and to an emergency exit. The alarm didn’t sound when the manager opened the door, and Gordon quietly navigated his load through the opening.

Gordon shook the manager’s hand, jumped on his bike, and pedaled off. The bike was very heavy now, which meant the ride home would be slower than the ride to the store. As he rode, he felt proud of himself for his quick thinking under pressure. He might have just given his family a longer lease on life. The regret he had earlier for his overall lack of preparedness was eased now.

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

The atmosphere of the hotel parking lot was similar to that of the hospital. Scattered throughout, cars sat still with their hoods raised and people meandered, confused. Conner turned into the lot, hastily parked the truck, pulled the keys from the ignition, and jumped out of the cabin. He locked the truck, hoping to provide some security for one of the only operational vehicles around. He noticed everyone in the lot was staring at him and his operational truck.

He ran to the emergency stairs and up to the second floor. He went directly to Dylan’s room. Once he reached the room, he furiously rapped on the door until his trusted aide answered.

“I’ve been trying to reach you,” Dylan said, feeling relieved to be face-to-face with the Speaker.

“Grab what you can, get the two Capitol Police officers and meet me down in the parking lot in five minutes. Please hurry,” Conner ordered, then turned away leaving Dylan standing there bewildered.

Conner darted down the hallway toward his room. He pulled out his key card, hoping it would work despite the power outage. He slid the key into the card slot above the doorknob, but nothing happened. Unsurprised, he took a step backward and kicked the door as hard as he could. The door hardly budged. He gave it another shot; this time, it buckled under the force of his kick and flew open. He bolted inside, grabbed his briefcase and a small piece of luggage, and immediately left.

“Mr. Speaker!” a voice yelled down the darkened hallway.

Conner turned around. He couldn’t see anything down the near-black corridor, but he heard footsteps approaching.

“Mr. Speaker!” the voice said again.

“Agent Davis, is that you?” he asked.

“Yes sir, it’s me and Jackson.”

From the darkness, two large-statured men wearing suits approached Conner.

“Have you been able to communicate with anyone in Washington?” Conner asked.

“No,” Davis responded

“Nothing, sir,” Jackson answered, shaking his head. “None of our equipment will even power on. We went down to the front desk and everything is down.”

“Listen, go back to your rooms and grab what you will need and meet me out front. I have a working vehicle.”

Both men acknowledged Conner and ran back to their rooms. Conner headed for the stairwell and quickly made it back to the truck. Seeing the truck as he exited the lobby, he breathed a sigh of relief. He tossed his bags in the back and got in. So much had happened in a day. Just yesterday he and Julia were at a charity luncheon in D.C. when they received word that Bobby had been in a near-fatal car accident.

“Mr. Speaker?” Dylan asked, puzzled by the fact that his boss was sitting behind the wheel of an old, beat-up pickup truck.

Conner opened his eyes. “Throw your stuff in the back and get in the cab, but don’t get blood on you.”

Dylan obeyed and climbed into the passenger seat nervously after taking notice of the blood on the inside door panel and side of the seat.

“Where did you get the truck?” Dylan asked, looking around inside.

“That is a long story and it doesn’t matter. As soon as Davis and Jackson get down here we are heading straight for Tinker Air Force Base.”

“Mr. Speaker, may I ask where your wife is?” Dylan asked hesitantly.

“She’s still at the hospital with my son. Once we get to Tinker and I can find out what is going on we’ll send someone back to get both of them. The priority now is to see if we can find out what is happening. It seems the entire power grid is down, and I can only assume there’s been some type of attack.”

Davis and Jackson suddenly emerged out of the front of the hotel running with their small carry-on bags. They tossed them in the bed of the truck.

“Jump in the back, gentlemen,” Conner yelled.

Davis and Jackson climbed in and Conner sped off. Driving through downtown Oklahoma City was like playing a video game; he was swerving around and narrowly missing stalled, abandoned cars all along West Sheridan and down South Robinson toward Interstate 40.

“Sir, this is really strange. I understand the power being out if someone took down the power grid, but why are all the cars stalled?” Dylan pushed for some information, frustrated by Conner’s prior refusal to answer his questions.

Paying close attention to his driving, Conner quickly answered, “There are only two things that could do this type of damage, a nuclear weapon detonated high in the atmosphere or a massive solar flare.”

“A nuclear weapon?”

“I’m not sure what is going on exactly, Dylan, but this is why we need to go to Tinker—to find out.”

The drive to the Air Force base was slowed down by the constant dodging of stalled cars along the interstate. As they drove, the men did encounter a few more operational vehicles; all appeared to be early vintage cars.

Coming off the exit for Tinker Air Force Base, both Conner and Dylan could see movement all around the base. There were moving vehicles, but people were clearly scrambling. As they slowly approached the front gate, several military police pointed their rifles and ordered for them to halt.

“Put your arms up, Dylan,” Conner instructed as he stopped the truck just before the first barriers to the entrance off of the exit ramp. “Davis, Jackson, put your arms up!” Conner yelled.

Both Davis and Jackson complied and held their arms up. A single military policeman approached the truck.

“What is your business here?” the officer asked, pointing his rifle right at Conner.

Conner could see the other two policemen spread apart from one another and take positions with their rifles trained on the truck.

“Airman, I am Speaker of the House Brad Conner. May I reach in my pocket and get my ID?”

Conner slowly put his right hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet, then pulled out his Congressional ID and driver’s license and held it out the window.

The MP took a few steps and grabbed the cards. He inspected them both and looked at the Speaker. He then shifted his gaze to Dylan and both men in the bed of the truck.

“Who are the other men, sir?”

“Dylan McLatchy in the cab with me, and in the back are Special Agents Davis and Jackson; they are with the U.S. Capitol Police.”

“Sir, I need all of their IDs as well,” the officer requested.

“Airman, this is the Speaker of the House of Representatives and we need access immediately,” Dylan demanded.

“Hold on, Dylan, let the man do his job and check us out.” Conner knew everyone was on edge and he didn’t want to make matters worse by forcing his way in. “Everyone get your IDs and hand them to the airman.”

Dylan and the two special agents did just that. The airman gathered all the IDs, looked at them and then looked at each man; he then stepped away from the truck. “Sir, I need to go back and send someone to HQ as our comm is down; we are not allowing anyone onto base due to the national emergency.”

“Wait a minute, airman, what national emergency?” Conner asked.

“The EMP and nuclear attack sir,” the MP answered, then jogged back to the guard shack.

The MP conferred with his counterpart at the guard shack. The MP who had the IDs kept pointing toward the truck. Finally, he jumped into a jeep and headed into the base.

“Sir, looks like your hunch was right,” Dylan said.

“Yeah,” Conner whispered. He lifted his head and stared outside of the driver’s side window.

Ten minutes later, the jeep returned. The MP jumped out accompanied by another man. As the second man approached the truck, Conner could see he was a general.

The general stepped up to the truck and saluted. “Welcome Mr. Speaker, General Daniel Griswald at your service.” He turned to the MP and instructed them to open the gate. “Sir, I apologize for the wait but after what has happened, we are locked down.”

“General I can appreciate that and understand. Please take me somewhere secure so we can be briefed.”

Griswald quickly walked back to the jeep, the MP jumped back in, and they turned around. Conner navigated the barriers and Jersey walls set up at the entrance and followed the jeep.

Conner looked around as they drove down the main road. He could see that even the Air Force base was not immune to the EMP attack.

They reached the headquarters building and quickly exited their respective vehicles. As they walked toward the building, the general made his way over to the Speaker.

“Sir, how is it that you’re here in Oklahoma and not in Washington?

“My son was involved in a car accident, so my wife and I came here to be with him.”

“I am sorry to hear the bad personal news, sir. I hope he is doing well,” Griswald said.

Deliberately avoiding the subject of his son, Conner asked, “How much damage does the base have from the EMP?”

“Well, sir, most vehicles and electrical systems as well as the generators are down.”

Griswald continued to explain some of the challenges they were having at the base while he guided Speaker Conner to the secure briefing room. Conner took a seat while Griswald talked to a few other personnel.

“Sir, just another minute, we are waiting on Colonel Jameson with Seventy-second Wing.”

Conner acknowledged with a nod.

A few minutes passed and a burly man walked into the room. Colonel Jameson was short and robust, a contrast to Griswald’s tall and lanky figure.

Jameson carried a stack of binders. Other staff came in with a paper map that was attached to an old chalkboard. He walked over to Conner and put out his hand. “Mr. Speaker, Colonel Todd Jameson, pleasure to meet you.”

Conner stood and shook his hand. “Same, Colonel.” He looked to Griswald and said, “General, I don’t want to wait any longer. What has happened? I need to know now.” His patience was wearing a bit thin.

“Sir, we are ready and I apologize for any delays. Let me debrief you on what we know so far,” Griswald began, standing at the front of the room in front of the map of the United States.

Conner leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table with his hands clasped.

“At approximately ten-thirteen hundred hours local, a high-altitude electromagnetic pulse device was detonated approximately three-hundred-plus miles above Kansas. The resulting effects from that EMP caused massive and catastrophic damage across the entire national grid. The estimated diameter of the EMP stretched from one coast of the continental United States to the other. From what we can tell now, with the scarce intelligence that we have, is that the EMP burst shutdown the country’s entire power grid from the East Coast to the West Coast. Sir, I know you are aware of the last Congressional Report put out about this type of attack and it appears the scenarios and estimates of damage were either incorrect or the device that hit us was huge. Now we believe—”

“What do you mean our estimates were wrong?” Conner interrupted.

“Sir, I know you have heard of a ‘Super EMP,’ correct?”

“Yes, General, I have.”

“Well, sir, based upon reports we are getting from the field and from our own experiences so far, this EMP strike took everything out. You are aware that our testing and estimates showed that a standard nuclear detonation high in the atmosphere would have taken out most of the power grid but other damage would not have been universal. This detonation seems to have taken every modern vehicle out, most electrical equipment, et cetera. None of our testing showed damage this widespread. So without truly knowing, we can only assume it was a device designed to emit a greater amount of gamma radiation, or in layman’s terms, a Super EMP.”

“How do you know that the grid is down across the nation?”

“Sir, we still have communication with assets across the country using SIPRNet.”

“Sipper what?” Conner asked, confused.

“Sir, it’s the DOD’s secured Internet and the servers connected to many of them are hardened.”

“Well, thank God for that,” Conner exclaimed. “What are we doing about the power outages? How are we supporting government?”

“Not much right now, sir. Everybody is running around with their heads cut off. It’s chaos on all bases. Plus, with what happened back in Washington . . .”

“Let’s get to that now, then. What else happened?”

“Ahh, sir,” Griswald replied. He looked at Jameson and then back at Conner and paused.

Conner noticed the glance to the colonel; he looked directly at Griswald and asked firmly, “What is it, General? What else has happened?

“Sir, we have confirmation that there was a second attack. This was a low-yield surface nuclear explosion. The ground zero of the detonation was Washington, D.C.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sir, we have received confirmation. We currently have communications with an E6-B from Naval Air Station Pax River. They have flown over the area and Washington, D.C., has been attacked.” Griswald paused and then finished. “Sir, Washington, D.C., is gone.”

San Diego, California

Gordon’s ride home from the store was taking a lot longer than he thought it would. His first downhill slope didn’t go well; the weight of the full trailer made it intensely difficult to control his speed. That weight made uphill rides completely impossible. So Gordon had to push the bike and trailer for the rest of the trip. Sweat was pouring off his face and drenching his clothes. All along Camino del Sur, the main road to and from his neighborhood, abandoned cars filled every lane. Most of the owners had now given up and walked home. Though Gordon had stayed in decent shape after leaving the Marine Corps, pushing the bike was proving to be quite the challenge.

When he crested the hill at the intersection of Camino del Sur and Carmel Valley Road, he finally took a break. He sat down on the sidewalk and drank some water, thinking to himself that maybe he should go to another store after this trip. The more he could supply his family, the longer they could hold out. He knew eventually he would have to tell his neighbors what he knew, but not until he could secure as much as he could for his own family. He sat on the sidewalk with his head down, watching the sweat drop off his face and chin and onto the sidewalk. As he felt the cool breeze hit his hot face, he became aware of the unusual silence for the first time. The hum of cars was replaced by the sound of birds flying. How strange, he thought. How peaceful it seemed right at this moment. He knew the peace would end soon, once people realized what had occurred.

Gordon had never really feared death, but now he did. If something were to happen to him, how would his family make it? Samantha was as tough as they came. She had been a top producing sales person for a large firm. Her reputation in the corporate world preceded her, she was aggressive and no-nonsense, all business, and didn’t take shit from anyone. That type of toughness was great in an insulated environment, but this wasn’t about being tough in a board room. The true realities of what was coming were frightening; the way people lived would forever change and only those who could adapt quickly would survive.

If Gordon’s fears proved correct, then in an instant, the United States had been transported back to before the Industrial Revolution. There would be a fight for resources, specifically food and water. Electricity had enabled the country and society in general to feed many people, but without power this equilibrium would stop immediately. The area they lived in would not be able to support the 3.2 million residents. Soon, the water would dry up, and then the food. Gordon couldn’t bear to think about it anymore; he needed to keep moving. He decided to attempt another trip today, which wouldn’t be possible if he didn’t make it home quickly.

As he started to push the bike, he heard a familiar sound coming from behind him. It sounded like a car, something with some real horsepower. He stood still, waiting. The sound grew louder; the car was coming his way. At the top of the hill, emerged a cherry red 1957 Chevy truck. He had seen that truck before; he put out his arm and waved. The truck pulled up right next to him.

Gordon bent over and peered through the passenger window. The driver leaned over and started to crank the window down.

“Hey, buddy,” the driver said.

“Jimmy, what’s up?” Gordon asked.

“This is some shit, isn’t it?” Jimmy replied, then pointed to Gordon’s bike and trailer. “What’s going on here?”

Gordon paused and considered whether he should he answer his friend’s question honestly. As he played out the scenario in his head, he started to realize that if he and his family were to survive long-term, they would need cooperation with others.

“I went to the store to get supplies,” Gordon answered. Leaning further into the open window he followed up with his theory. “Jimmy, here’s what I am guessing: We’ve been hit with some type of nuke.”

“Nuke?”

“I know, you think that a nuke just blows everything up and it does if it blows up on the ground or just above it, but if it blows up high in the atmosphere it causes what they call an electromagnetic pulse. Essentially, it fries everything electrical.”

“Gordon, you’re confusing me, slow down.”

“Jimmy, it’s pretty much the end of the fucking world right now, trust me on this. I know for sure that this isn’t some blackout like a few years ago. This is everything electrical, cars, phones, everything,” Gordon said, speaking faster and faster.

“I need to get home, then,” Jimmy said, placing his hand on the gear shift.

“Wait a minute. I’m sure your family is fine. What you and I need to do is team up and get supplies as fast as we can. There is some low-hanging fruit out there that we need to pick before panic and total fucking chaos erupt.”

Jimmy looked back at Gordon and asked, “Are you sure about all of this, Gordon?”

“I’m not sure about the size of this attack, but you see me here, pushing this thing.” Gordon pointed to his overflowing trailer.

“Gordon, I need to get home to check on my family.”

“I understand, but do this as soon as you get home. Fill every tub, sink basin, jug, whatever you can with water. Soon, water will stop flowing. Once you feel secure, come to my house and we’ll head out to another store to get food and more supplies.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon.” It seemed as though Jimmy sped off before he even finished his sentence. Gordon looked on as he accelerated down the road, zigzagging around the endless obstacle course of stalled cars. He then realized he and Jimmy weren’t thinking clearly as Gordon should have asked him for a lift.

“I’m such an idiot!” Gordon said out loud as he watched Jimmy’s truck vanish over the hill.

It took Gordon another thirty minutes to complete his journey home. He parked the bike in front of his house and ran to the door. The ride had really taken a lot out of him, but he needed to unload as soon as possible so he could go back out.

He opened the door and yelled for Samantha. He walked down the hallway to the kitchen and grabbed a towel. He was drenched with sweat.

“Daddy, Daddy!” Haley yelled from upstairs.

He could hear her running down the steps.

“Daddy, Daddy!” Haley yelled again as she ran into the kitchen.

Gordon bent down and opened his arms. Haley ran straight into him.

“Yucky, Daddy, you’re all wet!” Haley squirmed away from Gordon.

“Sorry, sweetie, Daddy was working.”

Samantha walked up to Gordon and hugged him too. “Thank God you’re safe.”

“Thanks, honey. Not to cut the homecoming short, but I have to get the bike inside, and Jimmy’s stopping by anytime.”

“Why is Jimmy coming by?” Samantha sounded very curious about this newest development.

“I ran into him on the way home from the store. By the way, the trip was a huge success. I told Jimmy my theory on the situation. He has a working vehicle, so we’re going to take it to Ralph’s in 4S Ranch to see if we can get more supplies,” Gordon said, wiping sweat from his face as he laid out his plan.

“What should we do while you’re gone?”

“Why not go down to Jimmy’s house and spend some time with Simone? The kids will love it and you can help her with any prepping she hasn’t done,” Gordon said. He tossed the towel down on the counter and walked to the garage.

He manually unlocked and pushed up the garage door. Just as he stepped outside an elderly neighbor from two doors down ran up to him.

“Did you hear?” The man was very clearly stressed. “The blackout is due to some sort of terrorist attack.”

“How do you know that?” Gordon asked. He placed his hands on his hips and looked at the older man, feigning skepticism.

“I have a hand-crank radio and heard the emergency broadcast system put out an alert. They’ve been repeating it every few minutes. Something about an attack on the power grid and some kind of attacks back east. Right now the info isn’t clear.”

“What else did they mention?”

“That’s it; they recommend that we all stay inside and that the power may be out for a few days or more.”

Gordon scoffed to himself, knowing that it would be a lot longer than a few days; then he remembered that the man mentioned other attacks on the East Coast. He wondered what that meant. Knowing the news would eventually get out and once it did it would spread quickly; he couldn’t waste time.

“Maybe I can come over and listen with you later or maybe you could help keep me informed if you hear anything else,” Gordon said to his neighbor as he stepped over to his bike.

“Looks like you were thinking this thing could last longer,” his neighbor commented, noticing all the food and supplies.

“I always like to be prepared,” Gordon answered; he still couldn’t come to an agreement with himself whether or not to share his opinion until he could secure more food and supplies.

The rumbling of Jimmy’s truck interrupted their conversation. The neighbor turned quickly, surprised.

“Your truck works?” he asked while jogging up to Jimmy.

Gordon parked his bike inside and noticed Samantha standing there with Haley.

“Where’s Hunter?” Gordon asked.

“He’s upstairs standing watch,” Samantha said.

“Good,” Gordon said, nodding.

Gordon then heard his neighbor ask, “Can I go with you?”

Gordon turned around and shook his head at Jimmy. Jimmy raised his shoulders and told the neighbor, “Not enough room, sorry.”

Jimmy was short, lean, and always looked like he had slept with his clothes on. His shoulder-length brown hair was hardly ever styled. Gordon just assumed that Jimmy’s focus was not on himself but on his business and family. Jimmy ran a successful business near downtown San Diego.

“Gordon!” Samantha said loudly.

Gordon turned back around to face Samantha and walked up to her. He stood in front of her and whispered, “We don’t have the room.”

“We have to start helping our neighbors,” Samantha said, interrupting him.

“We don’t have the room, Sam. We need to get as many supplies as possible. He is not my concern right now, you and the kids are.”

“I’m sorry, Gordon, this is not how we’ll survive. We need to help our neighbors,” Samantha said.

“Sam, I don’t even know his name, do you? Listen, I need to get going and get more supplies. Please trust me and don’t interfere.”

“I think you’re wrong, but I’ll leave it at that. I’m going to go inside and get Hunter. We’re going to go over to Jimmy and Simone’s house.” Samantha turned and walked back into the house with Haley.

Gordon watched her walk back inside. He respected his wife, but he would not budge on this. Protecting his family was his priority; helping neighbors would come a distant second.

“Sorry. Maybe we can pick you up some ice, but we don’t have room for you,” Jimmy kept insisting to the neighbor standing outside his truck.

“I’m sorry, I’m Gordon,” Gordon said, walking back up to his neighbor with his hand stretched out.

“James,” the neighbor said, shaking Gordon’s hand.

“What do you need? Maybe we can pick up some items for you. That’s if we can even get in a store; it could be closed.”

“I want some ice for my freezer items and some batteries, Ds and AAs,” James answered.

“Okay, we’ll see what we can do. We’ll let you know when we get back,” Gordon said.

“Thank you. Can I give you my credit card?” James asked.

“Don’t worry about it, let’s settle up later.”

“Thank you very much,” James said, then walked off toward his house.

Watching James, Gordon thought that he would soon have to let everyone know what he thought, but that would have to wait till tomorrow. Today and tonight was about getting more supplies for his family.

Gordon turned toward Jimmy and said, “Give me a minute.”

Gordon then jogged into the garage, closed it behind him, locked the door, and made his way to his office. He unlocked his armoire and pulled open a drawer; inside were several handguns. He grabbed an HK 9 millimeter and two full magazines. He tucked it into his pants and locked the armoire back up.

On his way out the front door he ran into Samantha. She was bringing the kids down the stairs.

“Sam, I heard you out there. I know you think that I don’t listen sometimes but I do. I hear what you’re saying, and my plan, our plan, is to eventually come together as a community and work together to survive this,” he said with a softer tone than he had spoken to her just moments before.

She reached the landing of the stairs holding Haley in one arm and a bag in the other. Hunter was following close behind with a small backpack. “Sweetie, I get it. I do understand what you’re doing and I appreciate you for doing it. I never doubt your commitment to this family. I guess I just hate knowing that others will suffer and here we are stocking up.”

“It does suck for them, but they are not my responsibility. You all are,” he said, looking and feeling better now that she was on board.

“Stop wasting time and get back out there,” she said with a grin.

“Roger that. I love you,” he said, winking at her. He walked up to her and kissed her, then kissed Haley.

“Love you, Daddy,” Haley said, then followed up with a quick request. “Can I come with you?”

“Not this time, sweetie, sorry. Go with Mommy and visit your friend Mason,” Gordon answered, petting Haley’s head. He looked at Hunter, who was standing on the step behind Samantha. “Big guy, remember, take care of your ladies while I’m out.”

“Yes, sir, I will,” Hunter said. He was a bit tired now. “Can I play Xbox later?”

The question broke Gordon’s heart. All the little luxuries to which his kids had become accustomed were gone in a flash.

“Sorry, buddy, but the power is out and will be for some time. Why don’t you grab a few of your Star Wars figures to play with at Mason’s?”

“Okay,” he answered, disappointed.

“Okay, babe, I’m out. We’ll probably be a couple hours, maybe more. We should be back by late afternoon.”

He ran to Jimmy’s truck and jumped into the passenger seat.

“Here,” Gordon said, handing the HK to Jimmy.

“Whoa. Really? You think it’s going to be that bad? You know I’m not a big gun guy,” Jimmy said, taken aback by the sight of the handgun.

“Listen, I don’t think it will be that bad at Ralph’s but you better get used to it. I believe shit will hit the fan and you better know how to use this thing. Remember what happened after Katrina hit New Orleans or the chaos in the Northeast after Hurricane Sandy? This is like a million Katrinas. Jimmy, you’re going to have to change your perspective. Your business is gone; your job now is to find food and water for your family daily. I don’t mean to preach, but you need to wake up. the lights are probably not coming on for a long, long time.” Gordon didn’t mince words.

“Okay, give it to me,” Jimmy said reluctantly. He grabbed the handgun and slid it between the seat and the center console.

“Enough bullshitting, let’s go get some food,” Gordon said loudly.

Jimmy started the truck. It had a deep exhaust sound. He put it into gear and accelerated quickly, causing a brief spin out. They headed west, toward the slowly descending sun.

Musa Qala, Helmand Province, Afghanistan

“Van Zandt, you awake, bro?” Tomlinson asked. The tent was pitch black except for a slight haze coming from the old halogen lights outside.

“Yes,” Sebastian answered from the darkness.

“I’m really worried for my girl. You think she’s okay?”

“I’m sure she’s fine; just probably laying around with a candle lit, thinking of you,” Sebastian answered.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Tomlinson sounded a little more relieved.

Sebastian tossed and turned. He couldn’t sleep for two reasons: the loud sound of heavy machinery outside his tent, and the never-ending thoughts about Gordon, Samantha, and the kids. He felt that he needed to be there with them and was considering voicing his opinion on the topic. He finally made the decision, and since he couldn’t sleep he sat up. He felt around in the dark until he located his boots, put them on, and left the tent heading directly for Gunny Smith’s tent.

Even though it was very early in the morning, there was a lot of activity going on at the base. Everyone was prepping for the move out. Heavy equipment moved items onto pallets and everyone was abuzz.

It didn’t take Sebastian long to make it to Gunny’s tent. He was about to poke his head in and wake him, but paused. Thinking that complaining would get him nowhere, he changed his mind and walked away.

“Corporal Van Zandt, did you need to see me?” asked Gunny.

Sebastian turned around to see Gunny Smith walking toward his own tent.

“Yes, Gunny, I was looking for you.” Sebastian walked toward Gunny. Sebastian felt very nervous and now wished he had never decided to do this.

When the two reached each other, Sebastian stood for a brief second, silent. He was still contemplating whether he should voice his concern.

“Well what is it, Van Zandt?” Gunny asked, hands on his hips.

“Gunny, I’m trying to figure how to put this. May I speak frankly?” Sebastian asked.

“Let’s go into my hooch, we can have a conversation in there, but please make it brief, we have a lot of work to do,” Gunny said. He walked over to his tent and went inside. “Come on in, Corporal.”

Sebastian followed.

“Sit down over there on that cot,” Gunny said, pointing at a cot up against the left side of the tent.

There wasn’t much in the tent: two cots, a makeshift desk with a chair, and a few boxes of Meals Ready to Eat rations. Gunny took off his cover and tossed it on the cot and sat down in the chair.

Gunny just stared at Sebastian, waiting for him to talk. He was of average height, lean, always tan, and had the scars of war already on his body from his face down to his arms.

“Okay, Corporal, what’s on your mind?”

“I’m going to be blunt.”

“Please do, Corporal.”

Sebastian kept hesitating, but he knew he was committed to speaking his mind now; he just wanted to phrase it right without looking like a whiner.

“Gunny, I don’t like this idea of going to the East Coast while our families are on the West Coast, possibly in harm’s way.”

“I understand your concern, Corporal, but our mission is to go support recovery efforts on the East Coast around D.C. You’re a Marine and your orders have been given.”

“I understand that, Gunny, you know I do, but has anyone else voiced these concerns to the battalion commander? I can’t imagine I am the only one who has this concern. These attacks on the homeland are unprecedented and put all of our families in life-and-death situations,” Sebastian said. The tension could be seen in his body as he spoke.

“Yes, your concerns have been expressed. However, we have our mission and we cannot deviate from that. Our new mission is like any other we have taken. We will do it and do it like U.S. Marines. I do appreciate you coming to me and you always know my door is open. I trust that even with your concerns and disagreement with our new mission that you’ll perform your duties like you always have?” Gunny asked as he stood up from his chair.

“Yes, Gunny, of course,” Sebastian assured him, standing up as well. Sebastian walked to the entrance of the tent.

“Make sure your team is ready to go, we have company formation at oh-five-hundred,” Gunny told Sebastian.

“We’ll be ready, Gunny,” Sebastian replied. He exited the tent.

Walking back toward his tent, he felt conflicted. The Marine Corps meant a lot to him, but knowing his brother and family were in harm’s way changed everything.

“Van Zandt!” Gunny yelled at Sebastian as he was walking away.

Sebastian turned around quickly and saw Gunny Smith standing just outside the entrance to his tent. Sebastian walked back to him.

“Van Zandt, if you’re concerned about your brother, don’t be; he can handle himself.”

“You know my brother?” Sebastian asked, surprised.

“Yes. I never thought to mention it before, but I met him in Iraq back in 2004. We fought together in Fallujah.”

“You were with him in Fallujah?” Sebastian asked. He had never known this and was even more shocked by Gunny’s bringing it up.

“Yes, I knew him for a very short period, but in that short time he proved to be a very capable Marine and NCO. I know your brother will be fine; he will have no problem taking care of himself and his family. He’ll do what is necessary now, just like he did in Fallujah.”

“I hear ya, Gunny. I just feel like we need to be with our families and protecting them now. I’m a faithful Marine, but my family is important to me,” Sebastian said.

“Like I said, there are others who feel the way you do and have expressed these concerns with just as much passion, but unless our orders change, we must push forward.”

“I know, Gunny. Thanks again and thank you for mentioning my brother. I do feel better now that we’ve talked,” Sebastian said.

“Not a problem. We’re a big family here too and we must take care of our Marines when they have a legitimate issue or concern,” Gunny said, placing his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder and patting it.

Sebastian turned around and walked away. He really did feel better knowing that the Gunny knew his brother and appreciated his affirming that Gordon was very capable. However, the conversation didn’t relieve his overall issue with the new mission. As he walked back to his tent, an unfamiliar, unexpected thought popped into his mind. Should he abandon his unit and find a way home?

Tinker Air Force Base, Oklahoma

“Sir, based upon mounting evidence and credible intelligence, we have concluded that Washington, D.C., has been destroyed and all remnants of our government there has gone with it. At this time, it is monumentally important that we maintain continuity,” Griswald explained, placing his pointer down on the table in front of him.

“What do you mean, General?” Conner asked.

“Sir, our intelligence indicates that both the president and vice president were killed in this morning’s attacks. We must get you sworn in as soon as possible and transport you immediately to a secure underground bunker.”

“General, before you go any further, I need to be excused for a moment. Where’s the closest bathroom?” Conner stood up, overwhelmed by this staggering revelation.

“Just down the hall, sir, on the left,” an Air Force officer answered.

“Thank you, I’ll be back in a few.” Conner stepped away from the table and walked quickly to the door. He pushed it open and made his way as quickly as he could to the bathroom. He went inside the bathroom and called out to make sure he was alone. He opened all the stall doors to double check. Once comfortable that he was truly alone, he walked to the sink and turned on the cold tap. He cupped a handful of water and splashed it on his face. After a few more splashes, he stared into the mirror at his own reflection. As he watched the water drip down his face, he noticed dark circles under his bloodshot eyes.

“Oh my God,” he said to himself, unable to break his gaze into the mirror. The weight of everything that had happened over the past eight hours was unbelievable. It felt surreal. He reached over and grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and dried his face and hands. He then paced around the empty bathroom for a minute before he approached the mirror again. He bent over, grabbed the sides of the sink, and stared at his reflection again and said, “Brad, pull yourself together. Your country needs you. Be the leader you know you can be. You have a responsibility to lead this nation. Stop freaking out and pull it together.”

He stood up straight, taking a final glance at himself, then left the bathroom. When he walked back into the briefing room, all conversation halted and everyone looked over to him.

“General Griswald, I need you to coordinate a team to go retrieve my wife and my son’s body from St. Anthony’s hospital. Once they are secure, we shall leave.”

“Yes, sir, but can we swear you in now?”

“Not until your team gets my wife. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Griswald turned to his aide and shot him a commanding look. The aide jumped up and left the room, followed by Agent Davis.

“Please keep me briefed on my wife’s situation at all times. I have another request, General. Go find a judge and get me a Bible.”

San Diego, California

As soon as Jimmy made the turn into the Ralph’s parking lot, he and Gordon could see the crowd gathered outside and commotion erupting. As they drove closer, they could see people hauling items, pushing full shopping carts out of the store.

“Looks like the word has gotten out,” Jimmy said aloud.

“Yes it does,” Gordon replied, nodding his head in agreement. “Listen, I don’t feel safe leaving the one and only operational vehicle out in the open. Pull up over there and I’ll go see what I can get inside by myself,” Gordon told Jimmy, pointing over to an area in the parking lot that had few cars and few people.

As he slowly weaved around parked cars toward the area Gordon indicated, Jimmy noticed many in the crowd looking and pointing at the truck. He felt uneasy and was now glad Gordon had given him the gun.

“Make sure you park in a spot that you don’t have to back out of,” Gordon recommended, pointing to a spot next to a line of shopping carts.

“Good idea,” Jimmy said as he took a left into the spot.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be. With all this going on it might be hard to get what we need,” Gordon said while checking his cash and gun and grabbing his pack. He opened the truck door and stepped down. Before closing the door behind him, he bent over, looked into the car, and said, “Stay frosty, my friend.”

“Stay frosty?” Jimmy asked.

“It means stay alert,” Gordon said and shut the door. He grabbed a cart and started running toward the front of the store. People all around rushed in and out of the store. Some people were pushing full carts; others just were running out with arms full of groceries. He pushed his cart directly into the crowd and pushed his way through. After a minute of pushing and elbows he made it inside. He stopped, put on his headlamp, and headed for the canned food area.

Inside, people were running all around, groceries were all over the floors, and people were yelling and screaming. Gordon ignored the commotion and went directly for the aisle he needed. Once he reached the canned food section, he saw that many of the shelves had been stripped, but not completely bare. Not wanting to waste any time, Gordon started to toss in whatever he could get his hands on.

He made his way down the aisle and cleared what he could. His makeshift plan was to fill up the cart, go back to Jimmy at the car, leave the cart for Jimmy to unload, grab a new cart, and do it all over again. What was becoming more problematic every passing moment was the setting sun on the horizon. Gordon was getting a bit concerned for Jimmy outside by himself. He followed his plan and with no altercation he left the store and dropped off the cart.

He grabbed a new cart and made his way back into the store, keeping aware of his surroundings as best he could in the semidarkness. He heard people falling into shelves and displays as they stumbled through the store with no light, tripping over loose cans and other items dropped by previous looters. He remembered judging people he’d seen on TV, looting stores after natural disasters. He felt a bit hypocritical, but this was a life-or-death situation.

Four trips later, the truck was filling but the store had been all but stripped bare. The sun was very low on the horizon now and Gordon knew it was time to get home.

“Well, I better start to like canned corn,” Jimmy said, looking at all the Ralph’s brand canned corn piled in the bed of his truck.

“Not too much to choose from, buddy. Kind of slim pickings.”

“What a mess,” Jimmy said, nodding toward the groups of people darting in and out of the store.

Out of nowhere, someone rushed the truck on the driver’s side.

“Help, please help me!” a man shouted. His shirt was bloody and he was sweating badly.

“Whoa,” Jimmy said clearly shocked by the bloodied man knocking on his window.

“Get away from the truck!” Gordon yelled.

“Please help me, my wife; I need someone to take her to the hospital!” The man frantically banged on the hood and glass of the driver’s side of the truck.

“Stop hitting my fucking truck, dude! Back off!” Jimmy yelled back.

“Listen, back off!” Gordon yelled again.

“I need your help, my wife is having a baby and she’s bleeding badly; I need someone to take her to the hospital.”

“What should we do?” Jimmy asked Gordon.

“Start the truck and leave. We can’t help him or his wife,” Gordon said firmly.

“Please help me!” the man screamed. He was starting to get crazed and looked desperate.

“Maybe we should help him,” Jimmy said to Gordon.

Gordon pulled out his Sig and pointed it at the man, who immediately backed away.

“I need help, please don’t shoot me!” the man said, backing away slowly.

“Now start the truck and get the fuck out of here,” Gordon yelled in a commanding voice to Jimmy.

Jimmy didn’t hesitate; he started the truck, put it into gear, and started to pull away. He looked at the man again and saw him just standing there, arms slumped forward, defeated.

“Let’s move, Jimmy. It’s getting dark and we need to get back,” Gordon said.

“Okay,” Jimmy responded. His heart was still racing from the incident with the man. He gripped the steering wheel tight as he maneuvered the truck through the people and cars in the lot.

“What’s going to happen to us?” Jimmy asked Gordon as soon as they cleared the parking lot.

“I don’t know, Jimbo. I don’t know. What I do know is that I plan on making sure my family survives.”

“How long will the power be out? I just can’t believe that our government or the military are down. I’m sure they’ll help soon, don’t you think?”

“Again, I don’t know if this is an isolated situation, but it sounds like it may not be. If this is a large-scale EMP attack, then more than likely the entire power grid in the U.S. is down. Just dealing with getting the power back up by itself is a huge issue. Now add insult to injury and have everything electrical from cars to phones to generators—everything is down, and how do you repair or replace those systems on the power grid? Jimmy, I fear we may be in for a long haul; we may not see the lights come on at all for a very, very long time. When they do, there’s a good chance the world we knew before will have been lost.” He turned away from Jimmy and stared out the window of the car. Everything looked the same, the mountains were still there, the roads, buildings, and houses, but nothing worked.

“Do you have any type of plan?” Jimmy asked.

“Yes and no. Was I really prepared for something like this, no. Do I have everything we need, no. Do I plan on getting it, yes,” Gordon said, turning back to his friend.

“What do we need?”

“Food, water, medicine, fuel, and ammo are our basic needs. Precious metals, gems, and cash for a short time will help us secure more of those needs. We have a very short window before all the food is gone,” Gordon said.

“What about our neighbors?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet, but we should all get together sometime tomorrow and attempt to have a community meeting. The truth is this: Not all of us are going to survive this. It will take three days, tops, and San Diego will be out of food. The water will start to dry up too. In about a week, we could start to see wandering bands of people looking for food in our neighborhood. We’ll have to secure our community, lock it down.”

“Should we leave?” Jimmy asked with concern in his voice.

“My gut says yes, but at the moment we have only one vehicle between us. We need to find more vehicles. Until we can put everything together, we should focus on food and water so our families don’t starve.”

“Okay, just take the lead, Gordon, and tell me what needs to be done; you seem more ready for this than me.”

“I wish I were more ready, but we have no choice but to go forage every day,” Gordon said. “How are we looking for gas?”

“I have half a tank, it can last us tomorrow depending on how far we go, but we’ll need to get some more soon,” Jimmy said.

“I agree. Once we off load all the food and divide it up, let’s make a plan.”

“Sounds good,” Jimmy replied. He was feeling better knowing that he had Gordon as a friend. Gordon was taking charge, and Jimmy didn’t mind. This survival stuff was not up his alley. He didn’t know what lay ahead for all of them but he felt better knowing that they had an advantage.

 • • • 

“How long will they be gone?” Simone asked Samantha. Simone and Jimmy had known each other since high school. The love they felt for each other ran deep. She had short dark hair and was short. She had been raised in the Northeast and had the typical northeastern accent that accompanied her sweet but hyper personality. Simone was more on edge than usual because the blackout had stopped her from taking her and Jimmy’s son, Mason, to his doctor’s appointment. They had recently been informed that he had asthma.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Samantha answered as she poured some lukewarm milk for Haley. Samantha was nervous, too, but didn’t want to show it. Simone, however, was visibly freaked out.

“When will the government come and get this all straightened out? I’m sure this is only temporary,” Simone said aloud just to reassure herself. She was pacing in the ever-darkening kitchen.

“I’m sure you’re right. Soon all of this will be over and we’ll be back to normal,” Samantha answered, even though she knew better. Everything that Gordon had told her made it sound as if the power might be out for months.

“Mommy, can I have my milk?” Haley asked, walking into the kitchen.

“Here, sweetie,” Samantha replied gently to Haley, handing her the cup she had just filled.

Haley grabbed the milk and ran down the hall to the play room.

Samantha watched as Haley ran on and was deeply saddened by what was happening. She was scared most for her children and what they might have to experience. She then thought of Simone and her son, Mason.

“How has Mason been?” Samantha asked.

“He’s okay. We’ve explained to him what he has and he kind of understands. We have been drilling into his head to make sure he has his inhaler wherever he goes.”

“I’m so sorry for you all.”

“I just feel better knowing what it is; the unknown is what scared me the most. At least now we can tackle it and move down a road of treatment.”

“How has work been for Jimmy?” Samantha asked, almost ashamed by how mundane the question was.

“Business has been up and we are hoping to secure a new contract with a large client soon. Jimmy has been working on it all month. He’s put a lot of time into it and has been working so many late nights to make sure it happens.”

“That’s great,” Samantha replied. She could not stop thinking about Gordon. The small talk wasn’t helping her forget what was happening. She trusted Gordon above anyone else and knew he was a capable man. She was just feeling very insecure now and wanted him home.

Her thoughts were broken by the flash of headlights cutting across the room. She and Simone looked at one another excitedly. They both jumped up and walked to the front door.

Simone opened the door just as Gordon was walking up the path.

“Hi, Gordon. Everything okay?” Simone asked.

“Yes, we’re all good. The trip went well. I need to go and open the garage door.” Gordon walked briskly by Simone and Samantha. Even back at the house, he was certainly a man on a mission. He wanted to get the truck in the garage as soon as possible to get it unloaded.

Gordon made his way into the garage, found the cord that disengaged the automatic garage door, and pulled it, releasing the lock. He lifted the door manually.

Jimmy slowly drove the truck into the garage. Gordon stepped outside and looked both left and right to see if anyone had seen them. He couldn’t see much now that the sun had set and it was getting dark outside. The neighborhood seemed eerie and unnatural with no sounds or lights. After his quick scan of the neighborhood, he pushed the door back down.

With the garage door shut, he turned to Jimmy and said, “Let’s get this unloaded.”

Simone had come in the garage with a lantern that painted the garage with a yellow glow.

Both Jimmy and Gordon wasted no time in unpacking the truck. The wives stood in the doorway to the garage. Gordon noticed Samantha and stopped for a brief moment to look at her. They made eye contact and Gordon smiled, then went back to work unloading.

“Well, Simone, I hope you like lima beans and Spam!” Jimmy said jokingly as he stacked a case of Spam on top of the case of canned lima beans.

“Was all of this necessary?” Simone asked, helping grab loose cans and items. “This is a lot of food. How long do you think the power outage will last?”

Jimmy looked nervously to Gordon. Gordon stopped unloading and answered her question. “Simone, this could last a while. After we’re done unloading, I’ll explain what I think is going on.”

Gordon went back to stacking when they heard a knock at the front door.

“I doubt it’s the pizza guy,” Jimmy joked as he headed into the house.

He opened the door slightly and peeked out. His neighbor Melissa stood on his porch holding her newborn baby.

“Hi, Jimmy, I’m sorry to bother you, but have you seen Eric?”

“Uh, no. Sorry, I just got home myself.”

“I can’t reach him, my phone won’t work, and my car won’t start. I’m kind of freaked out,” Melissa explained intensely. She was rocking back and forth attempting to soothe her baby, who was making some noises.

“Uh, come on in. I’m sorry, come on in,” Jimmy said, fully opening the door.

“I don’t want to impose. Do you have a phone that works?” she asked.

“No, sorry; our phones are down too. Now come on in.”

“Maybe for a minute, thank you.”

Stepping inside the foyer, she held her baby close. Just as Jimmy shut the door behind her, Samantha walked in from the garage.

“Hi, Melissa! How are you doing?

“Hi, Samantha. I’m fine; just haven’t heard from Eric since the power went out. It’s getting late and I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Come on in, sweetie,” Samantha said. She walked up to Melissa and put her arm around her and walked her down the hall to the living room.

Jimmy watched as the two ladies walked down the dim, candle-lit hallway before he proceeded back into the garage.

“That’s it, all unloaded,” Gordon said, placing the last can of food on top of the stack.

“Wow, that’s a lot of food,” Jimmy remarked, looking at everything they had brought back.

“Not nearly enough, pal. We will definitely need to go back out tomorrow.”

“How is that not enough food?” Simone asked, staring down the impressive stacks of food.

“Let’s go inside, grab a drink, and I’ll explain.”

They all marched into the house.

 • • • 

The group all gathered in the living room. Gordon sat down in a large cushioned chair in the corner. It wasn’t until then that he realized how sore and tired he was. He took a drink of the Knob Creek bourbon Simone had poured him and closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, everyone was staring at him expectantly.

Gordon sat up and said, “Well, I assume since everyone is looking at me, they want to know my thoughts on all of this?”

Simone nodded, then said, “Yes, ’cause I’m kinda freaking out here.” There was a frantic tone to her voice.

Jimmy reached over and touched Simone’s knee. She brushed his hand away and snapped, “Listen, I need to know what’s going on. Why all the food, what’s up?”

“Just relax. He’ll explain,” Jimmy said, reaching back, squeezing her knee.

“Don’t tell me to relax! Something is going on and it doesn’t sound good,” she shot back at Jimmy.

Knowing their back and forth was not productive, Gordon interrupted, “Simone, you’re right, something has happened and it’s not good.”

“Okay. I’m listening,” Simone said.

“We must accept that our way of life has been altered, and prepare for a life without any of the luxuries of modern society, like electricity. I don’t know the extent of the problem or what is happening outside of our city, but I’m guessing it’s widespread.”

“What does that mean, you’re ‘guessing it’s widespread?’ What has happened?” Melissa asked, seeming annoyed, but really more nervous and scared.

Gordon continued, “Everything I’m about to tell you is an educated guess. I do not know exactly what happened, but what appears to have happened is that we’ve been attacked by an EMP bomb.”

Simone nervously interrupted again. “EM what?”

“EMP; it stands for electromagnetic pulse. One can be produced by detonating a nuclear bomb.”

Simone gasped, “Oh my God!” She reached over and grabbed Jimmy’s hand.

Gordon continued on. “An EMP is just a super charge of electricity. Anything that is electrical or has circuits gets fried within a millionth of a second.”

“What about radiation?” Melissa asked.

Gordon acknowledged her concern and answered, “From my knowledge on the topic, there are no effects from radiation. The bomb was probably detonated a few hundred miles in the air. The strategy behind an EMP is to wipe out everything electronic. This is where it becomes a major problem. Everything in our lives runs off of electricity, everything! With no power or transportation, all food and water supplies will dry up, fast. A single grocery store will only have about a three-day supply of food. Without trucks bringing in new supplies, that’s it. Water will stop flowing as well, because we get water pumped to us from somewhere. Without power, those pumps will cease to work. We should not expect to get help from anyone, because the government and law enforcement are in the same situation: no operable cars or power. Depending how large and where the bomb was blown up, this could be affecting the entire country.”

“How long will we be without power?” Simone asked, terrified. She was gripping Jimmy’s hand very tightly.

“Simone, that’s a good question. Worst case could be six months or more.”

“What?” Simone couldn’t believe his answer.

“If the power stays off for longer than a week, we will start to see society collapse, plain and simple. The life we knew before is gone and I don’t know if it will ever come back.”

Simone put her head in her hands and started to cry. Jimmy put his arms around her and tried to comfort her.

“What do we need to do?” Melissa asked.

Gordon was staring at Simone. Then he turned to answer Melissa. He thought to himself how interesting it was how each individual responds to situations. He admired her pragmatism.

“First thing is not to worry too much about Eric. He’s probably finding a way back home now. Unfortunately, that probably means walking back. That could mean he won’t show up until tomorrow sometime, so don’t panic if you don’t see him tonight. While you’re waiting for him, you need to go back home and fill all of your tubs and sinks with water. Make sure you clean them out as well as you can before filling, of course. Do not use the toilets from now on. Eat the food in your freezer and anything that is perishable first. Keep your canned foods for last. Locate all of your fuel if you have any; candles, matches, lighters, flashlights, et cetera. Use all of them sparingly.”

“What about Sophie?” Melissa looked down to her baby in her arms.

Gordon paused and looked at Melissa rocking Sophie. “She’ll be fine. You’re breast feeding, right?”

Melissa nodded.

“Then she’ll be okay, as long as you take care of yourself. Do not give her any water unless you know it’s clean. I recommend you go home now and start prepping. We’ll keep an eye on you from here. If you need anything, come by.”

Jimmy reassured them. “Yes, Melissa, don’t hesitate. Come by if you need anything, anything at all.”

Melissa stood up and started for the door. Gordon followed her out.

“Melissa, if you need anything please let us know. I’d say call, but . . .” Gordon made a weak attempt at humor.

Melissa smiled and said thank you. “I’ll let you all know when Eric makes it back.”

Gordon watched as she walked off into the darkness toward the sidewalk. He closed the door and went back into the living room. Jimmy was trying to console Simone, who was still very upset. Not wanting to intrude, he left the room and walked down the hallway toward the playroom. He saw the small light flicker off and on in the room and heard laughter. He walked up to the doorway and looked in. The kids were under a blanket with the flashlight; they were turning it off and on.

He then realized Samantha hadn’t been in the living room when he walked in on Jimmy and Simone. He assumed she’d be in the kitchen, but when he checked, it was empty. He spent the next few minutes looking for her. Finally he checked the garage, saving it for last because he couldn’t think of any reason she’d go in there by herself. He opened the door and, sure enough, there she was. She was holding a notepad, taking an inventory of the food they had just brought back.

“What are you doing?” he asked, already knowing her answer.

“Taking inventory; it needed to be done. Why don’t you go and get the bike and trailer and bring it back so we can take our half home,” she suggested, not looking away from the notepad.

“That’s not going to happen. I am sore as hell and like my grandad used to say, ‘work smart, not hard,’” Gordon replied.

Not looking at him she responded, “However you get this home, just get it done.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He walked over to her and stood behind her. He reached around with his arms and brought her close to him. “I love a take-charge woman.”

“Gordon, now is not the time,” she said, shrugging him off.

“Okay. I just love it when you start to bark orders,” he said, and then slapped her on the butt.

She stopped writing for the first time since he walked into the garage and snapped at him. “Really, you think this is an appropriate time?”

Gordon stepped away and said, “It’s okay, I know where you live.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Gordon went back into the living room. Jimmy was still on the couch but Simone was gone.

“Where did Simone go?” Gordon asked

“She went to go check on the kids.”

“Hey, I’m going to load up my supplies in your truck and take them to my house, okay?”

“You do that,” Jimmy responded. He reached down and grabbed his glass of bourbon and tossed it back, downing the whole glass.

Gordon looked at his friend for a moment, then headed back to the garage. He was tired but there still was a lot of work to do before he would rest.

Tinker Air Force Base, Oklahoma

Flanked by an entourage of people, Conner walked briskly toward the aircraft waiting on the tarmac.

“How is it this plane is operational?” Conner asked, pointing at the aircraft.

“It’s an E-6 Mercury, sir,” Griswald answered loudly. He almost had to yell as they grew closer to the plane. The high-pitched whine of the plane’s engine made it hard to hear. “We did do something right, sir. We have a fleet of these which are hardened against nuclear or EMP attacks. They are a mobile command post to be used for incidents just as this.”

“Glad to hear some of our money was spent wisely,” Conner responded.

Standing at the base of the stairwell, he looked up contemplatively. He’d walk through the door as Speaker of the House and out as the President of the United States. Grabbing the rail, he jogged up the stairs. A uniformed officer saluted and led him to a furnished conference room on board.

Griswald and a few members of the entourage followed Conner into the conference room. Conner turned to Griswald and asked, “Any update on my wife?”

“No sir, not yet. Sir, we have not been able to track down a judge but we do have a Bible. May I suggest we get you sworn in so we can proceed with any response we may have to these attacks?” Griswald implored.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Conner said, standing up.

Griswald turned to his aide. “Give me the Bible and the oath of office.”

The aide stepped forward with both requested items.

“Stand there and hold the Bible,” Griswald instructed his aide.

Conner placed his left hand on the Bible and raised his right hand.

Griswald proceeded, “Mr. Speaker, please repeat after me. I, Bradley Raymond Conner . . .”

Conner repeated, “I, Bradley Raymond Conner . . .”

“. . . do solemnly swear . . .”

“. . . do solemnly swear . . .”

“. . . that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States . . .”

“. . . that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States . . .”

“. . . and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.”

“. . . and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States. So help me God,” Conner finished, overwhelmed with emotion.

Griswald put his hand out. “Mr. President.”

Conner took his hand and shook it, then gave his first order as president: “General, I need an up-to-date briefing on the status of everything.”

“Yes, sir,” Griswald answered enthusiastically.

All those in the room took their seats. Griswald sent his aide to find out what new information might have come in since their last briefing over an hour ago.

“While we wait, can you tell me now how our forces are positioned around the globe?” Conner asked.

Griswald turned on the large flat-screen monitor at the head of the room. He pulled up a map of the world and started to touch options on the side. With each tap on the screen, avatars representing military units began to appear on the map.

“Sir, what we know as of this morning is that we have carrier groups positioned here and here. We also have two Amphibious Ready Groups positioned here and here. Each ARG represents a reinforced battalion of Marines and all the air assets they would have to accompany them. In Afghanistan, we have two more battalions of Marines. Our land-based Army units in Europe have been unresponsive. This is due to an EMP detonation over central Europe which has destroyed the entire power grid from England to central Russia. All military units in the contiguous United States are down. We have been able to reach Hawaii and Alaska. There we have a mix of Army, Navy, Air Force, and a Marine Infantry Brigade located in Hawaii. Many of our attack and ballistic missile submarines are fully operational and are located here, here, here, and here.”

Interrupting Griswald, Conner asked, “General, tell me what you think happened or how it happened.”

“Sir, we believe that the EMP bomb was deployed on a missile and fired from some type of ship-based platform.”

“What happened to our missile defense systems?”

“Sir, we don’t know why the missile was not intercepted or if an attempt was made to intercept it. We strongly believe it was fired from offshore, probably on board a container ship.”

“Why do you believe that?” Conner asked, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the table.

“One reason is that the ship would have to have been large. We did not have any intelligence on any large, state-flagged military ships nearby, so this was probably a container cargo ship. It would have had to be large enough to hold the missiles and ordinary enough not to be noticed. We are not sure if both missiles were deployed from the same ship or separately. We have to assume the missile that hit D.C. was fired from somewhere in the Atlantic. This would have reduced the distance and time for the missile to travel, increasing their odds of success. Now, if they both weren’t shot from the same ship, then a likely location for launching the missile that had the EMP would be the Gulf of California.”

“Do we have any idea who did this?”

“No, we do not know for sure.”

“Answer this question with all honesty, with the entire power grid down across the country, when can we get it back up and what can we expect from the loss of the grid?”

“Sir, based upon all estimates, it would take as little as six months to as great as eighteen months to get the grid back up. The main problem is that all the power plants are down; we have no means of direct communication to speak with them. We don’t have the assets in country now to bring in supplies to get them back up. Without power and without transportation assets, it’s not just the power grid that is gone but the entire interstate infrastructure that supplies critical food, water, and medical supplies. The general population, specifically those located in major cities across the country, will start to feel the strain from the lack of food and fresh water within days. Local authorities have no means of assisting their local populations because all of their assets are down too.”

“Okay, so no power for a while. The main issue I’m hearing from you is a lack of food for the general population.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What can we do?”

“Not much right now, sir. What I suggest is we recall all of our military assets from across the globe. Bring them home. They have operational equipment and can assist in resupply to local municipalities.”

“How do you propose that?”

“You asked me to be honest, sir, and, honestly, I don’t know even where to begin.”

Conner sat back in his chair. He was deep in thought. He then propped back up and asked, “General, without power, food, water, and medical supplies, what do you estimate will happen to the general population?”

“Sir, we have done those studies before.” He got up from his chair and approached the screen. He tapped a few buttons and pulled up a timeline. “Before I begin, sir, let me start by saying that right now there is not a lot we can do to assist the general population. Right now they are on their own. What we must focus on is getting the grid back up and maintaining the continuity of government. Once the grid is up, we can start to focus on supplying the general population.”

“I don’t agree with you completely, but I hear what you are suggesting. What I am asking is what are we looking at in terms of casualties?”

Griswald turned around and tapped the screen; a graph came up. “Within the first few minutes of the detonation of the EMP, we estimate that approximately one hundred and fifty thousand people died.”

“What?” Conner said loudly in disbelief.

“Yes, sir. Based upon the detonation time we can estimate that approximately three thousand aircraft were in the sky at that time across the country. Assuming the average passenger load would be fifty people, you get to our estimate pretty easily. The EMP would have knocked out the aircraft’s engines and they would have fallen to the ground.”

“Good God, that many people?”

“Sir, it’s just the beginning. The nuclear bomb that struck Washington, D.C., was an approximately one-hundred-kiloton bomb. The epicenter of the explosion was near Kingman Park in the District. Everything within one mile of the explosion was completely destroyed. The Capitol and White House fell just outside of that zone, but a couple of aerial photos, seen here, show those structures are just about leveled.”

Conner sat silently in awe of the photos he was seeing.

“Mr. President, the initial loss of life estimated in Washington due to the nuclear attack is probably in the one hundred thousand range. We estimate another hundred thousand will perish due to radiation exposure, dehydration, and starvation.” Griswald paused, allowing the information to settle with Conner, while trying to process it emotionally himself. He then continued, “Mr. President, I need to warn you, the following numbers are staggering. Within the first month, the total loss of life will be about three to five million, within three months about fifteen to twenty million. By the six-month mark another fifty million, and, if nothing changes, within a year, ninety percent of the United States population will be dead.”

“Ninety percent! I don’t understand; why so many?” Conner asked, exasperated.

“Mr. President, in the first month with no power and with a lack of a constant flow of adequate food, water, and medical supplies, all of those Americans who are hospitalized or have any sort of special needs will most likely perish. Starvation starts to take its toll around month two and mass starvation will start to hit by month six. This doesn’t take into account the civil unrest that will kill tens of thousands.”

“What can we do? We must do something.”

“Mr. President, there isn’t much we can do for the average American. The best thing we can do is reestablish the continuity of government, and, from there, we can start to get the infrastructure back in place. I recommend we find a vice president for you as well as a cabinet. We can then set up teams to go to the state capitals and make liaison with governors. With the U.S. capital destroyed, we will need to find a new seat of government for us. I recommend a military base that is secure with an underground bunker.”

Conner just sat back in his chair. He folded his arms and concentrated on this overwhelming flow of difficult information. He leaned forward and asked again, “General, do we know who did this? If so, what are your recommendations for a response?”

“Mr. President, we do not know exactly who is responsible for these attacks. We obviously have suspects, but no one has stepped forward to accept responsibility, nor do we have access to any intel that lets us know.”

“Okay, based upon whatever intel we do have, how are our allies doing?

“Sir, it appears that similar attacks were conducted against Europe, the Pacific Rim, and an attack was stopped in Australia.”

“How did the Aussies stop their attack?”

“We do not know, we have received intel from them that they were able to seize a ship that had a nuclear weapon aboard it. We are working with them to see what intel we can gather from their interrogations of those captured.”

“How did the Aussies manage to stop the attack and not us?” Conner was getting a bit indignant.

“All we can assume, sir, is that our resources were stretched thin with all the recent attacks—”

“That’s it! The other attacks were just to bog us down so they could orchestrate this attack.”

“Yes sir, that sounds like exactly what happened,” Griswald answered back.

 • • • 

Griswald continued his briefing for another half an hour. The more information he presented, the more helpless Conner felt. He had become the most powerful man in the world but without the power.

“Sir, what would you like us to do?” Griswald asked.

“I need to process everything. I need you to get me a list of possible suspects and I want to speak with the prime minister of Australia as soon as possible. I want you to get all of our military assets back into the United States as soon as possible. I want some of them on the East Coast to assist with recovery efforts.” Conner paused, thought for a minute, then looked back at Griswald. “Once my wife is on board, let’s depart.”

“Sir, where do you want to go?”

“Florida.”

“Florida, sir?” Griswald asked, confused.

“Yes, Florida,” Conner said standing up.

“Why Florida?” Griswald asked with a puzzled tone.

“You said I need a VP, didn’t you?”