The End Boxset: Postapocalyptic Visions of an Unstoppable Collapse Page 13

  “Is he bleeding? Oh my God, he’s bleeding!” Susan screamed as she pulled Richard from Alice’s arms. “What did you do to him? My son!”

  “There was an accident, he might have an concussion—“

  “You!” Susan said rising to her feet, “I trusted you.”

  Alice stood up, and gained her composure. “There was some trouble getting out of the school. He hit his head, but I’m sure he’ll be okay.”

  “Someone help me!” Susan shouted out, “She hurt my son. I need a doctor.”

  Alice looked around her. People were starting to take notice. Susan’s cries for help continued. In a quick flash Alice turned around and ran the other direction, back towards the car. Susan continued her to cry and scream without giving so much as a thank you for the retrieval for her son. But there would be no joyous reunion here. Not with so many people around. Alice ran faster than she had run that entire day. Her head pulsated with exhaustion and dehydration. As she neared the cross walk to the back road, she came across the same group who were looking for the car. Alice slowed her pace, and attempted to look normal. As normal as anyone sweating profusely with sporadic breathing could do. They paid her little attention as they passed by. Alice’s steps grew faster once they were gone, and she jogged down the path back to the car. She ran to the driver’s side door and flung it opened. Brian wasn’t there. “Brian!” she called out. From the other side of the oak tree, Brian came about. “What are you doing? Get in the car,” she demanded.

  “I was keeping a look out, mom. That’s all,” he said while making his way back.

  “We don’t have much time, now move,” she said. Alice jumped into the car and slammed the door. She rested her head against the steering wheel, dug the key from her pocket, and placed it in the ignition switch. “Please…” she said to herself, “Please start again.” Brian entered the car on the passenger’s side and closed the door. “Does it start?” he asked.

  “Be patient,” Alice said. She turned the key carefully and was overjoyed when the engine started without hassle. “Oh thank God,” she said in relief.

  “Now we have to get Tobias,” Brian said.

  “We have to get your sister,” Alice replied.

  Brian opened the door and placed his leg outside the car. “I’m not going anywhere without Tobias,” he said with tears streaming down his cheeks.

  “Brian, listen,” Alice said, “Get back in the car. We’ll get to your friend after—”

  “No! You’re full of crap. You promised,” Brian said.

  “I’m not going to argue with you anymore. Close the door right now.”

  Brian and his mother stared at each other as the engine rumbled. Brian placed his foot leg back into the car and slammed the door.

  “Good,” Alice said. She backed the car up and steered it around to slowly ascend the hill. Her eyes squinted to see beyond the darkness. She wasn’t going to risk being spotted by putting the headlights on; at least, not at the moment. When they reached the back road, Alice drove slowly back to the main road, taking a right, away from the school. Ahead was an obstacle course of empty cars. Alice steered carefully, in and out of the mess, praying that there was a clear path not far. She looked at the fuel gauge repeatedly. There was no telling if it worked completely or not. But she had no choice but to trust that the tank was half full as the gauge indicated.

  Brian stared out the window, not saying a word. Inside he felt sick; an overbearing kind of sickness, deep within his gut whenever he thought of Tobias.

  “I want you to remember this, Brian,” Alice said, looking intently ahead, “family comes first, always.”

  Chapter 8: Jeremy: On the Road

  It was times like this that Jeremy wished he had a cell phone. He didn’t like the idea of leaving his truck on the side of the road. Just as a precaution he hid the supplies he had in the back of the truck—fuel, water, camping gear—in the nearby woods. Stripped of enticing items, the truck now looked unappealing to any potential scavengers. The morning sun was inescapable, and the temperature was steadily warming. This was not unusual for fall, but to Jeremy it felt more like summer. The convenience store couldn’t have been more than a mile down the road. Jeremy could see it as he began to plan his next steps accordingly. He would ask to use the phone and call for a tow truck. He would have his car towed to the nearest mechanic shop, and hopefully repaired in a short time. Then he hoped to be on the road before whatever calamity happened. As time passed, however, Jeremy had the sneaking suspicion that he had been duped. The world was still going on just as normal as ever. It’s not as if this disappointed him, but it made him rethink his entire outlook on fleeing into the mountains. “But things have been getting bad for a while,” Jeremy thought, “Maybe this is for the better.” Regardless, he was severely limited in his options without transportation. “What am I supposed to do, hike five hundred miles?” he said aloud.

  Jeremy looked at his watch. It was a little after eleven. The convenience store, his salvation, was in sight. Any minute now his problems would be over. A large and vibrant osprey circled overhead. He looked up in the sky to admire the bird’s beauty. Nature, in itself, was something of beauty, and Jeremy hoped that if things did go south for society, that nature would be left intact. It was during this exact moment that a large, blinding flash illuminated the sky. The force of this phenomenon threw Jeremy on the ground. His bug-out bag tumbled off his shoulders and landed a few feet ahead of him. Then, just as quick as the flash forced him on the ground, it was over. If there was a sound emitted by the flash, it was deafening. As he struggled to his feet, Jeremy temporarily lost both sight and sound. The world in front of him was seen through several bright spots. There was no telling what had just happened, but he instinctively walked over to his bug-out bag, threw it on his shoulders, and kept walking. “I really need that fucking tow truck,” Jeremy said to himself.

  When he approached the convenience store, he noticed that it had a more “gas stop” flavor than anything. He was in a very small town which most likely had a small population. Because of this, the odds seemed to him to be more in his favor. Still dazed from the flash, or blast, Jeremy wandered to the small store which housed two gas pumps and one small wooden building. It might as well have been a “country store,” as they were called in the olden days. There was a man at the gas pump, leaning on his four door station wagon looking as hazy as anything. He rubbed his head profusely, and when he noticed Jeremy, he simply turned his head to ask, “What the hell was that?”

  “I don’t know,” Jeremy replied, though his own words sounded faded and distant. The man took the gas pump from his car and examined it. It appeared to have stopped working. He then examined the pump thoroughly. He was obviously a man from the town, as his attire of blue suspenders, large gut, and heavily creased net cap would suggest. “Bill! Damn pump ain’t workin’ no more,” he shouted. Bill was presumably the clerk inside, but Jeremy made no conclusions to this. Jeremy walked past the man and into the entrance of the shop. The lights were out in the store, as if it were closed. Outside light provided dim illumination through the surrounding plate glass windows.

  “Howdy,” the unshaven man at the counter said.

  “You Bill?” Jeremy asked.

  “Who’s asking?” the man asked in a joking manner.

  “The customer outside,” Jeremy answered, “Says your pumps aren’t working anymore.”

  “Nothing’s working anymore. Power went out and everything.”

  Jeremy felt a moment of certainty like nothing he had felt in the events leading up to his journey.

  “When did the power go out?” Jeremy asked.

  “Oh, about ten minutes ago,” Bill said.

  “Everything?”

  “Lights went out. Cash register don’t work. I got nothing here. We’ve had brownouts before. Maybe it’s a brownout.”

  “Not very likely,” Jeremy said.

  “Excuse me?” Bill asked.

  “Nothing,”
Jeremy said searching the aisle.

  There were three aisles to choose from stocked with snacks, canned goods, and hygiene products. Jeremy went to the standing coolers in the back where the drinks were.

  “You travelin’ on foot?” Bill asked.

  Jeremy grabbed some Gatorade from one of the freezers and proceeded to the snack aisle. “My truck broke down about three miles down the road. I need to call a tow truck.”

  “Wish I could help you, son, but the phones ain’t workin’ neither,” Bill said.

  “What do you mean?” Jeremy asked.

  Bill picked up the receiver of a landline telephone next to his counter. “I mean that they ain’t workin’. No dial tone. Nothing.”

  Jeremy reached into his pocket for a cell phone and remembered that he didn’t have one. The earlier blast that knocked him on the ground had disoriented him. There was certainly something unusual about the entire scenario, but Jeremy couldn’t tell if this was an indication of anything serious or just a “brownout” as Bill had suggested.

  “I hope that you’re paying cash for those items, because our credit card machine ain’t workin’ worth a shit,” Bill said.

  “Yeah I have cash,” Jeremy said while approaching the counter. He removed his bug-out bag and searched in the front pocket for a zipper bag full of cash. Having cash on-hand was one of the basic steps in prepping, along with medical papers and a passport. Though Jeremy wasn’t rich, he took half of the five thousand that he had in his bank account and carried it with him.

  “How much do I owe you?” he asked.

  “Let me see here. You’ll have to excuse me on account of not having my scanner handy.” Bill looked at the items and did his best to add the total. “Three Gatorades and a bag of chips, that’ll be five dollars and thirty five cents.”

  Jeremy handed him a ten. Bill looked at him suspiciously. “You from around here?” he asked taking the money.

  “I’m from out of state. Just doing some sightseeing,” Jeremy replied.

  “Let me see if I can do this,” Bill said looking at the cash register in confusion. He pried open the drawer and pulled out the change owed to Jeremy. Just then, the man from outside burst into the store.

  “What in the hell is goin’ on with your gas pump, Bill?” he asked, clearly irate.

  “Power went out, Rodney,” Bill said.

  Jeremy took the change, put it in his pocket, and threw the bug-out bag over his shoulder.

  “Well that’s a load of horse shit!” Rodney shouted.

  “Ain’t nothin’ I can do about it until the power comes back on, my friend,” Bill said.

  Rodney paced throughout the store, agitated and on the brink of an outburst. Several thoughts entered Jeremy’s mind. One, someone had severed the power source to the town. Two, it was a freak accident. Three, it was an Electromagnetic pulse (EMP) attack. The third thought remained in his head as he blocked out the ensuing argument between Bill and Rodney. He quickly grabbed his items from the counter and exited the store.

  “Have a good one, travelin’ man,” Bill said from his stool at the counter.

  Jeremy waved and made his way outside. Suddenly Rodney stormed out of the store angrier than before. He kicked the gas pump and jumped into his station wagon. When he turned the key a clicking sound followed, nothing more. “What the fuck!” he shouted, hitting the dashboard.

  “Your car won’t start?” Jeremy asked.

  Rodney tried again and again, to no avail. “It sure as shit won’t,” Rodney answered.

  Jeremy paced the parking lot of the store in deep thought. Where was he to go? What was he to do?

  “Need to find someplace safe,” Jeremy said to himself.

  “What?” Rodney asked from the passenger seat of his car.

  “Something’s wrong. This is no normal power outage.”

  “Well my car ain’t startin'.”

  “Do you live near here?” Jeremy asked.

  “About two miles up the road,” Rodney said.

  “I think we’re under attack. They have these bombs that disable the electrical grids of entire cities. This could very serious.”

  “Who does? What are you talking about? I’m gonna need to call a tow truck now,” Rodney said, disinterested.

  “The phones aren’t working either,” Jeremy said.

  Rodney looked up from his steering wheel. “Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine? Guess I’ll have to fix it myself,” he said. With that, Rodney popped his hood and got out of his car.

  As Rodney examined the engine, Jeremy turned towards the road. Miles ahead he noticed cars stopped dead in their tracks. A four-door Ford Focus sat only fifty yards up the road with a middle-aged woman at the wheel turning her key again and again.

  In all his preparation, Jeremy couldn’t believe it what he was seeing. It was a breakdown of the most fundamental elements: electricity and mobility. There would be no tow truck or repair. However, Jeremy wanted to believe that if he could get a radiator hose, he could repair his truck and continue his travels. Rodney’s distant shouts of frustration filled the air. Jeremy turned around realizing that he would have to take what he needed from someone. A radiator hose is a radiator hose. If it didn’t work and if vehicles had truly been rendered inoperable then he would find an alternative path. He would need to take Rodney’s radiator hose one way or the other. Or perhaps he could find the solution from the woman in her car. The day hadn’t even started and Jeremy was pondering a “survival of the fittest” approach. And there was no better time for survivalist tendencies than now.

  The End: Book 3

  Chapter 1: Jeremy Rafelson: Stranded in West Virginia

  In a small town outside Charleston, West Virginia, Jeremy Rafelson pondered his next move. He was stranded in a town he didn't want to be in. His truck had broken down, after the radiator hose blew out. There was no electricity at the gas station, the phone lines were down, and he had no way to contact a tow truck. Next to the gas pumps, Rodney, a frustrated driver, examined his car engine, after it failed to start only a few moments ago. From a few feet away, Jeremy could hear intensified mumbling as Rodney leaned under the hood searching in vain for a solution. Rodney's back was turned to Jeremy making him exposed and vulnerable. It would take only a quick slam of the hood over Rodney's head and then Jeremy could take the very radiator hose needed for his truck. “Why wasn't Rodney's car working?” Jeremy wondered. What about all the other cars? What about his car? He slowly approached Rodney's station wagon. The pebbles beneath his hiking boots crackled with each step. His movement went largely unnoticed by Rodney, who was far too invested in the engine to be aware of anything else.

  “Shit!” Rodney said, “Shit! Shit! Shit.” He checked his oil dipstick, the transmission, sparks, and wires. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. But on closer inspection, the main computer board of his station wagon seemed completely fried. Rodney noticed the blackened circuitry. “Well, damn. This could be the problem right here,” he said out loud to himself.

  Jeremy neared, pondering his next move. He wasn't completely sure that the radiator hose would even match the one he needed. But hoses were pretty much all the same, right? Jeremy moved to Rodney's side. It would be perfect. No witnesses. A clueless clerk sitting in his dimly lit store, none the wiser. A confused woman paced around her Ford Focus fifty yards up the road. Rodney continued to inspect the electrical wiring of the car, intently focused on the master board panel. Jeremy glanced around as he placed his hands on the engine hood above him. Rodney leaned deeper into the engine, blissfully unaware of Jeremy's presence. Suddenly, the front door of the shop swung open, revealing the store clerk, Bill. “You gonna move that boat of yours, or what?” he asked Rodney.

  Rodney lifted his head upon hearing Bill. Jeremy removed his hand from the engine hood immediately. “I can't get it started, so get off my back,” Rodney billowed.

  “Well put 'er in neutral and push 'er away from my pumps. I got a business to run here,” Bill s
aid.

  Rodney removed himself from the engine and faced Bill. “Business?” he said. “Your power don't work. Phones don't work. Damn gas pumps don't work. This place is runnin' as good as a three legged dog.”

  “I appreciate your input, Rodney, but how about you just move your car 'way from my pumps already.”

  “You deaf? I said the pumps don't work, shithead!” Rodney shouted.

  “Nothing works,” Jeremy said, cautiously stepping away from Rodent’s engine. “This is something I'd advise both of you to take seriously.”

  Bill stepped closer, with a cockeyed glance in Jeremy's direction, and then looked to Rodney. “What the hell is he talking about?”

  “I don't know. He's been talkin' about some invisible bomb taking out all the computers,” Rodney said, “It don't explain why my car ain't working though.”

  “And the phone line,” Bill added.

  Jeremy lashed out at both men. “All of those things are connected. Don't you see it? Cars, electricity, phones, everything we have. It's all been destroyed!”

  Bill and Rodney stared at Jeremy, bewildered. It was clear that there wasn't going to be an immediate bond between them. Instead, they remained obtuse.

  “Who are you, anyway?” Bill asked.

  “Nobody. I'm just passing through town, like I said earlier.”

  “So how do you know so much?” Rodney interjected.

  “I don't know anything really. But I've read about this scenario. It's not all that outlandish really. There's all types of reports on it. It's called an electromagnetic pulse. A bomb meant to wipe out our electronic equipment. I can't say that's what's happened for sure, but there's a real possibility.”