Silent Interruption Page 10

  The dog barked again, but still made no move toward Carl.

  “I hear you.” Carl sighed loudly. “Look, I hope you don’t mind, but I have to take my friends to safety, and it’s going to be dark pretty soon. I hope you’re able to make your way out here. Maybe somebody can pick you up and give you a home.”

  The dog made no more sounds. The canine just kept his eyes on Carl.

  He decided to risk walking and backed up a couple of steps down the sidewalk. The dog didn’t move. Carl slowly opened up a bigger gap between himself and the animal.

  Then, about a minute later, the dog turned and walked the other way. Exhaling loudly, Carl turned and picked up his pace to catch up to Preston and Shyanne. He had to jog to quickly close the gap, but soon he had made it to his two fellow travelers.

  “Did the dog go away?” Shyanne asked.

  “Yeah.” Carl handed the gun back to Preston.

  “Thanks,” he told Preston, before finishing up with Shyanne. “Turns out our doggie friend just wanted something to drink.”

  As he resumed leading his friends, he took a moment to remember Edgar—a fine German Shepherd, and a true friend. His heart sank as he thought of Edgar and what the world was like now. With the destruction of the country’s modern infrastructure, no pet shops would be open to offer dogs. Far fewer dogs would be such loyal friends to humans as Edgar was.

  The trek down the street led to a place that Carl had hoped to find—an expansive green field that ran alongside the bank of a river. The Earhart overpass loomed very close now. In minutes the group actually would be within the overpass’s shadow.

  The overpass arched over a four-lane highway some distance to the east. From there, it sloped downward to bridge over the river before descending to the connecting freeway. Judging from the river’s sharp turn to the east, it would lead out of the city and into the woods beyond. As for the overpass, although it sloped downward over the river, it still easily was high enough to accommodate three persons underneath it for the night.

  “Looks like we found our spot for the night.” Carl turned toward the river.

  “Wait, we’re going to sleep out there?” Preston hurried to catch up with Carl. “What about someplace indoors?”

  “There’s no building that’s safe around here,” Carl replied. “The fires are getting out of control. Odds are any place we stay is going to catch fire sometime during the night. We could be choked to death or burned alive. The river will give us some protection.”

  “But what will protect us from the mobs out here?” Preston looked around. “If we stay out here, someone will see us.”

  “We’ll take watch shifts.” Carl began hiking down the slope to the level area that ran along the river. “Look, I know it’s not a comfy hotel bed, but we got to make do with what we’ve got. Besides, it won’t be easy to see us under this overpass without any street lights.”

  Carl reclined on a slightly hilly patch a few feet from the river. Preston nestled himself near one of the pilings that held up the overpass. Carl had asked Shyanne to sit down, but instead the girl was stomping in a circle, her head down.

  “What are you doing?” Carl asked.

  “Looking for ants,” Shyanne said. “I don’t like ants. They bite.”

  Carl nodded. “That’s very wise. Don’t want ants to sneak up and bite you on the butt.” Then rose t0 his feet. “In fact, I will be on roach duty. Hey, Preston, want to help us look for bugs?”

  Preston, already lying on the ground, exhaled with an air of annoyance. “Carl, there’s bugs everywhere. That’s why it’s called Nature.”

  Carl marched up to Preston, then whispered to him. “Would it really kill you to play along? If it cheers up Shyanne, we should do it.”

  Preston sat up. “Fine.”

  After about ten minutes of bug hunting, all three of them opted to sit down on the grass. Shyanne laid near Carl. Meanwhile, Preston had moved down a few steps toward Carl.

  “First night of the end of the world,” Preston said. He almost sounded amused.

  Shyanne looked up at Carl. “Are you cold?”

  Carl looked at his bare chest. “No. Actually, it’s pretty warm out here.”

  The heat generated from the city fires were keeping the temperatures up. To Carl’s relief, the wind wasn’t carrying any smoke toward them. However, if the fires progressed closer to their location, that could change.

  “Mister Carl, why is everybody burning up the city?” Shyanne asked.

  Carl was about to reply, to explain about the electromagnetic pulse that had fried all the electronics across the country, but he stumbled over the first word he spoke. He couldn’t figure how much Shyanne could understand. He would have to choose his words carefully.

  “Well, you see the sky up there?” Carl pointed to the cloudy night. “Well, high up there, there was a big explosion. A big bang.” He held out his hands and then spread them wide while blowing a big puff of wind. “And what happened, after that big bang, was a big bolt of lightning, like in a thunderstorm. Only this lightning was different. It wasn’t like regular lightning. You remember in school how’d they tell you that Benjamin Franklin proved lightning has electricity in it?”

  Shyanne nodded.

  “Well, this lightning had a lot of electricity in it. It spread out something called an electromagnetic pulse. Now, this pulse, we call it an EMP, it can damage a lot of things we use in life. Almost anything that uses electricity can be shut down.” Carl clapped his hands together. “Because the EMP overloads it. That means the EMP puts too much voltage into it. Voltage, that just means how much electricity there is.”

  Shyanne’s eyes narrowed. Carl might be losing her. He rethought his next words and continued.

  “What I mean is that because of this big explosion, almost everything that uses electricity won’t work anymore. And because of that, some people think they can do whatever they want because no one can stop them. The phones don’t work, so you can’t call the police. And the police can’t come to help because their cars don’t run anymore.”

  Shyanne’s eyes widened. “So, that’s why people are becoming bad?”

  “Well, it’s not that they are turning bad. It’s because they are bad but were too scared of the police to do bad things. Now they think they can do anything, even set things on fire.”

  Shyanne dropped her head. “Or kill people.”

  Carl bit his lower lip. Shyanne likely was thinking of her father. “Yeah,” he said, with a slight pain in his gut.

  The girl then raised her head. “Can we fix it?”

  “Fix what?” Carl asked.

  “Everything. The big bang, the EMP, it broke everything, right? Can we make new ones?”

  “You mean new cars or new phones? I wish we could.” Carl looked at the world around them.

  “The problem is that we used a lot of tools and machines that used electricity to make that stuff, but now those machines are broken. So, we need to make new machines, so we can make new stuff.” Carl smiled, but it felt painful to do so. This was hard stuff to explain to anyone. “That’s going to take a long time.”

  Carl then spotted Preston out of the corner of his eye. The young man squirmed a bit and then looked away. Evidently, he was not pleased with Carl’s assessment of the dilapidated world, particularly Carl’s assertion that their modern infrastructure likely was to be rebuilt soon.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Carl and Shyanne continued talking as the sun finally set below the horizon. The little girl soon tired out, and she decided to lie down on her back. It wasn’t long before Shyanne’s eyes closed.

  Carl gazed at her for a while. Today had been a horrible day in this young one’s life. He couldn’t imagine what her dreams would be like. The former Marine understood that the human mind takes the time while sleeping to process all of the day’s events, all the experiences gained, all the information learned. But how does a young mind process the death of a parent? How can a child understan
d that the world around them has changed radically, that the modern way of life enjoyed up until now is gone?

  He scratched his upper chest. He wondered if even he could accept what just had happened. Carl understood full well the traumas some military personnel suffered after their experiences overseas. The human mind can suffer only so much before it starts to break down. Even a disciplined man finds himself behaving radically, lashing out, feeling lost in a world of peace after being conditioned to live in a world of war.

  Carl counted himself blessed that he was spared the suffering of PTSD. However, he wondered if his time overseas still had had its effects. Perhaps it burned within him the desire to warn people in the United States not to take their modern world for granted. In a sense, he was not the same man who had left his mountain home for the military. How would this calamity affect him?

  “So, what’s the plan?” Preston asked, sounding tired and a little annoyed. His mood had not improved since Carl had attempted to explain the EMP event to Shyanne.

  Carl turned to his companion, who was sitting on the ground halfway between the river and the nearest overpass support. “Get the hell out of this city,” Carl replied.

  “I know, but where are we going to go?” Bitterness rose in Preston’s voice, “You planned for this, didn’t you? Remember, you had some kind of bag in your car.”

  “A survival bag,” Carl said. “It was a pouch that contained rations and survival supplies. Small knives, cotton balls, medicine, herbs, things that could get you across a wilderness if necessary.”

  “Fine, fine. And we didn’t get it, but the point is you have a destination, right?”

  Carl nodded. “I mapped it out. The map was in my survival bag.” He quickly grinned, anticipating Preston would swear or at least grimace horribly at the thought of Carl losing his map. It was the only time so far since this disaster began that he felt like making a joke.

  “Don’t worry.” Carl tapped the side of his head. “I memorized the routes. This is my home state, after all. Our prime target should be Camp Jefferson. It’s a small U.S. Army base in the mountains. It’s not a big base, but some military units might go there to try to establish a communications chain with other army units, if it’s possible.”

  Carl stretched his arms. “Of course, there’s no guarantee the facility will be fine. We don’t know what’s going on outside this city. For all we know, warlords could be rising up. They could go after military bases and compounds.”

  Preston laughed. “Wait, warlords? You’re being serious.”

  Carl turned to him. “Do you really think that’s impossible, after all you’ve seen today? Did you hear my conversation with the child about bad people?”

  “Yeah, but I thought we were talking about people on the street. You know, looters, rioters, vandals. You’re talking about a civil war.” Then Preston snickered. “Wait. Of course. The nutty militias that hide in the woods are going to look at all this as a great opportunity to try overthrowing the government.” He waved his right hand. “Thanks for reminding me.”

  “The point is we don’t know what is going on out there and we should be cautious. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  “Mister Carl?” Shyanne turned on her side, facing the former Marine. It turned out she had not been sleeping after all. “I’m hungry.”

  Preston clutched his stomach. “Damn. Now that she said it, I’m feeling it.”

  Carl silently agreed. They had been running off adrenaline for so long that they had forgotten about eating. Unfortunately, their trip through the drug store turned up no food or water. “Preston, you got anything?”

  “My wallet, my car keys and my completely useless cell phone,” Preston replied.

  Carl dug around in his pants pockets. He pulled out a high calorie granola bar still in its wrapper. He had hastily grabbed it from his apartment this morning and had forgotten all about it.

  “Well, we’re in luck.” Carl waved the bar with a smile. “Here’s dinner.”

  Carl sighed. The bit of bar he had eaten helped quell his hunger for the moment. He just hoped it would last through the night. Shyanne finally had drifted off to sleep. Carl wondered if he would get any sleep at all tonight. He couldn’t help but fear for this child, even if no visible threats reared their heads. He wanted to keep an eye on her at all times.

  “Hey,” Preston said, sounding a bit tired.

  “Still awake,” Carl said.

  “Thanks for saving me,” Preston said. “I mean, getting me away from the mob at the rally and helping me through all this.”

  “Well, it’s not all me,” Carl said. “You saved me when I got knocked out.”

  Preston’s eyes widened, as if he had forgotten all about that. “Yeah.” He laughed, a little nervously. “Not something I thought I’d do. Not that I wouldn’t save someone’s life. It’s just…” His voice trailed off.

  “No one expects to actually get in such a crazy situation until it just happens one day. Yeah, I get what you mean,” Carl said.

  “I didn’t even think about it. I just did it,” Preston said.

  “That’s what happens. My dad always said it was a man’s character. What he believes comes out when it’s time to act.” Carl sighed. “Dad. I just talked to him this morning. I hope he and Mom are okay.”

  “Where do they live?” Preston asked.

  “On a farm. It’s the same farm I grew up on. It’s pretty far from any big city, so I’m sure they’re okay for now.”

  Preston did not say anything except yawn. Carl figured Preston was ready to drift off, so he kept silent. Instead, he folded his arms under his head and looked up at the underside of the overpass.

  His confidence in his parents’ survival wasn’t helped as he recalled his father discussing his and his mother’s health issues. They knew how to live off the land, but they also were slowing down. Their prime years had passed long ago, with his dad even musing about giving up the farm.

  Now that he finally had time to relax, with the adrenalin no longer coursing through his body, the frightening possibilities suddenly flooded into Carl’s mind. He could hike to his dad’s farm. However, he was also a U.S. Marine, even if retired. He had to find out if there was any chance the government still was functioning, or if the military at least still could operate. If not, he would have to try corralling his family. If Camp Jefferson was a no-go, he would head to the farm with Preston and Shyanne. His mom and dad likely still would be there. Then, he would form a long-term plan for their survival.

  However, it was possible the surrounding area no longer would be safe. They might have to move. Carl bristled at the notion of his parents having to trek so far. And then there was Andy to consider. He lived in suburban Loudon County, north of the Shenandoah Mountains. Would he have fled to his parents’ farm as well? Should he stay there and wait for him? Should he go look for him?

  And then there was the horrifying prospect that he never would see his parents or his brother ever again. He might find his parents dead in their home. The home itself could be burned to the ground by desperate people looking for food. A civil war might even have broken out.

  There might not be such a thing as home ever again.

  The reality of the night did not seem to disturb Preston one bit. Once he had fallen asleep, he stayed that way, not opening an eye, not saying a word. In fact, he seemed so comfortable that he snored. He snored so loudly it was starting to reverberate back off the overpass supports and underbelly.

  Carl sighed. He wished he could sleep that soundly, but decent sleep eluded him all night. He was sure this would be the case for almost everyone else in the country. The first night without power would be a living hell. Air conditioners everywhere would be out, meaning people used to sleeping in comfortable temperatures would be sweating their hides off. They would have to open windows to circulate the air, and even that would not restore the level of comfort people were used to. And if they didn’t have screens on their window
s, mosquitoes might show up in the home. That invited a whole host of problems, especially since hospitals were shut down as well. Heaven help anyone who suffered badly from an insect bite.

  But the cities would take it the worst. Whether it was the heat or the lack of an explanation for what was going on, people only would be encouraged to go outside and take out their anger and frustrations on anyone or anything they found. That wasn’t counting the people realizing they may never find decent food again and deciding to raid any last source of food they could find to stay alive.

  Carl’s eyes grew heavy. His thoughts of the here and now started to drift to the past, to years ago, during missions to root out and capture or kill members of the Martyr’s Army. The aftermaths of their bombings were the worst horrors Carl recalled. In fact, one time during patrol, he happened to be in the neighborhood when a bomb went off in a Shiite mosque.

  The insidious part was that the actual killing was over quickly, and while nobody else died except as a result of bomb injuries, the immediate aftermath was often one of fear, confusion, anger, and tears. No one could be sure if a second bomb would explode, or where it would erupt from.

  After the bomb exploded, it was up to Carl to help secure the area. Some Martyr’s Army members were suicide bombers, but not all of them. Then Carl had to coordinate with the local police force and military intelligence to determine suspects. Sometimes the cooperative effort yielded a man, sometimes not.

  The day Carl happened to be on the scene, some of the survivors got particularly angry. They were looking for blood. As it so happened, they chased down a man suspected of being a Sunni Muslim. As the Martyr’s Army was a group of Muslims from the Sunni branch of Islam, anyone in that Shiite neighborhood who was thought to be a practicing Sunni Muslim was looked upon with great suspicion, if not hatred.