EMP 1500 Miles From Home

By Mike Whitworth

With the electricity out across the entire United States and few cars working, Wayne is stranded 1500 miles from home. He is determined to get back home to his wife and son. This is the story of his journey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Whitworth
• Release date: May 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311367082

Book preview

EMP

1500 MILES FROM HOME

by

Mike Whitworth

Copyright © 2015 Mike Whitworth

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my wife, Diana. Without her encouragement, love, and support, it would never have been written. I would also like to thank Happy and Dusty, our cats, and Bear and Misha, our dogs, who often kept me company into the wee hours as I wrote.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

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Chapter 1

Wayne

My earlobe twitched and caught fire like a hornet sting as the bullet passed within a fraction of an inch of my ear. I ran faster. Hot, tan sand filled my black wingtips and jammed my toes, my plastic water jug slammed me in the back, and, with every step, thorny little bushes played slice and dice with my legs. The two guys kept shooting at me as they chased me.

They wanted my water. They already had everything else I’d been carrying. It seemed to me they might succeed in getting my last water jug as well, especially if one of them was smart enough to stop and aim his pistol. I guessed it wouldn't be the end of the world if they did get my last water jug. After all, the world already ended two days ago.

Wayne

I remembered what I was doing when the world ended. Well, maybe not ended, but it sure as hell changed drastically and instantly, and, as best I could tell, not for the better.

So what was I doing when the world ended? The fact of the matter is, I was just frittering away some time while I waited for a business meeting to start at a client's office. I hated these business trips because I didn't like being away from my family, but the money was necessary to pay the mortgage and put food on the table.

This time I was in a little town called Socorro in central New Mexico. It isn't a difficult place to find. Just fly into Albuquerque, rent a car, and follow the Rio Grande south about sixty miles.

As I drove south along the interstate toward Socorro, a storm raged along the mountain ranges to the east. The number and intensity of lightning strikes fascinated me. At any given moment I could see at least five individual lightning flashes and sometimes more than fifty. It was eerie...eerie and macabre. The lightning was yellow, white, blue, and sometimes red. I was more than twenty miles away so the thunder was just a continuous low rumble that set the background for the single most impressive light show I’ve ever seen. I decided I didn't want to be in those mountains right now. Nowhere had I seen lightning like this.

I looked up from scribbling notes on my yellow pad when the lights went out. The receptionist, plump, stylish, and obviously comfortable in her brown leather chair, said, Darn, not again! She stood, smoothed her knee-length red skirt, and looked out the window. I wonder how long it’ll last this time?

I asked, Does the power go out often? I wondered if the power outage was related to the storm I saw over the mountains yesterday afternoon.

Every now and then. It usually lasts a few minutes to a few hours.

Just then the guy I was supposed to meet walked into the reception area. He glanced at the receptionist and shrugged his shoulders. He seemed like a nice guy when I talked to him on the phone, and he seemed like a nice guy when I saw him in person.

You must be my 10:00 o’clock. he smiled after glancing in my direction.

I stood and shook his hand. Hi, I’m Wayne Zane. I spoke to you on the phone last week."

He laughed, How could I forget a name like yours? I laughed too, though I’d heard it before. Look, he said, can you come in tomorrow instead? We never know when the power will come back on around here, but it should be back on by this time tomorrow morning. It’s always back on by the next morning.

You bet, I replied, I'll see you then. He smiled, I smiled, and we went our separate ways. I returned to the parking lot while he disappeared deeper into the building.

I rented a 4WD Jeep at the airport in Albuquerque because I hoped to have an hour or two to explore some of the ghost towns west of Socorro. Now it looked like I’d have plenty of time.

At least it seemed like it until I turned the key in the Jeep's ignition and nothing happened. I tried it a few more times and each time, nothing—not even a click. Then I noticed the glow high in the clouds above the mountain to the east.

The village of Socorro sits in a narrow valley bounded on the east and west by mountains. The western mountains are lower than the eastern mountains, but an even taller range rises farther west. The Rio Grande runs from north to south through the valley.

No way, I blurted out. The mountain blocked most of my view to the east so I walked to the top of a low knoll to better see the red glow. As I watched, the glow grew from pale to ruby red, sending out copper colored tendrils flecked with blue. Soon it faded to a pale red with streaks of pink, before fading to blue. At its peak, the glow almost filled the sky from somewhere below the mountaintop to fifty degrees above the horizon.

I heard nothing, nor did I feel a pressure wave. If it was what I thought it was, and was hoping it was not, it was far to the east. Was it as far east as Indiana where I lived with my wife and son? I hoped not.

I could see the parking lot from the knoll. A few people were trying to start their cars. None started—not one. Now I was getting nervous.

I went back to the Jeep and tried the radio. Zip, nada, nothing. It wouldn't make a sound, not even static. I tried my cell phone and got the same result. It was as fried as battered okra.

I thought about talking to some of the people in the parking lot, but I didn't know any of them. I didn't want to mention my suspicions to anyone because it might cause a panic and prevent me from getting the equipment and supplies I needed to get home to my family. I was 1,500 miles from home, and I was determined to get back to my family, even if I had to walk all the way.

Julie

The game show announcer was just about to show the prize when the power went out. If that happened to some of my work friends, they’d bitch about it all day, but, to a girl who grew up on a ranch without electricity, it was no big deal. I sat down beside the window with a book, a romance novel, after all, I’m still a girl, or used to be a few years ago anyway.

Power outages are fairly common here and I was sure the electricity would be back on by morning at the latest.

Wayne

I hoofed it the couple of miles back to my motel at the north end of town. I brought my briefcase along. It was a typical late September morning in New Mexico—over 80 degrees. The dry heat was enjoyable. I carried my suit coat folded over my briefcase.

When I got to the motel, I tried the key card in the door. Nothing happened. I tried the door handle. It was still locked. When the world ends, one has to be decisive, or so I read. I looked around to see if anyone was watching. It was clear, so I slammed my shoulder into the door. I’m a big guy and it gave way on the first try. So much for the sense of security I used to feel when locked inside a motel room.

Once more back in my room, I looked at my watch. It was only 10:30 AM. Other than the fact the Jeep wouldn’t start, the electricity was off, and the eerie glow to the east, everything seemed normal, just unusually quiet.

My watch is an old Timex wind-up that my dad left me. I wear it for sentimental reasons, and because the thing just keeps on ticking. Apparently, in the old days, ads were more truthful. My dad wore the watch when he served in Vietnam. He said it never quit on him. I had it worked on after he passed, and put on a larger band to fit my oversized wrist. My dad was nearly as tall as I am, but smaller-boned.

I jammed the door with a chair and emptied my carry-on bag on the bed. Looking through the stuff on the bed, I was shocked at how few useful items I had with me for what I had to do next. With all the hassles at the airports, I traveled unusually light. The less crap the TSA had to dig through, the fewer delays I had, well, except for the occasional suspicious question as to why I was traveling so light. The agents were usually so slow that I seldom had to give a logical answer, just a politically correct one.

I did have a Swiss Army Knife, a Super Tinker that I bought at the big box store in Belen on the way to Socorro yesterday. I’m a fanatic about always having a knife on me, but the damn airline didn't allow knives on flights. When I left home I had a small survival kit with an old stone arrowhead in my carry on bag, but the TSA confiscated the arrowhead along with my entire survival kit. The old stone arrowhead had been the only sharp object in the kit, and it wasn't very sharp, or very big.

At the big box store, I also bought several boxes of waterproof matches and a cheap magnesium fire starter with a built in fire steel. I bought it for the fire steel since cheap imports like that one didn't have much magnesium in the block. Hell, you could toss the thing into a fire and it might not even burn unless the toads were singing Italian opera, or some such.

I also bought a pack of imitation paracord because it was all they had and the TSA confiscated my paracord from my carry on bag. I guess they thought I might strangle someone, or something.

In summary, I had a Swiss Army Knife, a small sharpening stone, three boxes of matches, the imitation fire starter in which only the fire steel worked, a kerchief—oversized to fit my melon-sized head—one pair of leather-soled shoes (size 16), my suit, and some spare underwear and socks, as well as the typical stuff in my shaving kit. Of course, I also had a small laptop boat anchor and an unusable cell phone.

Wasting no time, I packed my useable stuff into my overnight bag, and slipped the knife, fire starter, and a box of matches into my pockets. I also removed the battery from the cell phone and dropped it into a pocket as well. It should still have a charge.

I’ve never been one to steal, but there’s always a first time. I took the blanket and sheets off the bed, put two towels, two washcloths, the toilet paper, and two tiny bars of motel soap on top of them. Then I carefully rolled them into a bedroll and tied it with some of my fake paracord.

I needed to try shorting the Jeep’s battery to the chassis to see if it might reset the Jeep's computer controller. If that worked, the little green bugger might actually start. I figured I might as well try that first, so I stashed my stuff in the best hideaway I could find, just in case I couldn’t find any other gear, and headed back to the parking lot. I should’ve tried shorting to reset the controller first thing, but I wasn't thinking as clearly as I should’ve been.

From now on, I knew I’d have to be much more careful of lapses like that one. My pa-in-law always told me that lapses in judgment could cost you your life. He should know. He was a retired Marine Captain who was now an expert survivalist. He was also a big-time prepper. I knew Lucy and Ben, my wife and son, were, or soon would be, at his retreat. He’d make sure of that, and God help anyone who tried to hurt them.

Knowing my pa-in-law would have the situation back home under control eased my mind and let me focus on what I needed to do. My pa-in-law, Cap, and I had discussed the situation I seemed to be in now on several occasions. His description of what I’d see was right on the mark, almost scarily so.

As I pondered what to do next, there was another quiet flash high in the sky off to the west. This time I was positive it was an EMP. This most recent glow was most likely the end of the electric grid on the West Coast.

I assumed someone had achieved pretty thorough EMP coverage over the North American Continent. Maybe it was China, maybe it was Russia, or maybe just some well-funded asshole, or even insane elements in our own government. We would probably never know.

Julie

I finished the book and the electricity was still off. What little food there was in my small refrigerator should be fine as long as the power came back on by morning.

I checked my cell phone. I was hoping for a text message from my job interview last week, but my cell phone was dead. That never happened to me before. Run the battery down? Sure, I’d done that, but this was different. My cell phone was charged, but there was no signal, not even a single bar. My phone always worked during previous outages. I guessed the cell phone towers were down as well.

This power outage felt different to me, but I didn’t know why. I got my pistol from the nightstand drawer and dropped it into my apron pocket. Then I checked the shotgun to be sure it was loaded. The pistol in my apron made me feel better as I wiped the ugly mustard-yellow kitchen counters, but not much.

My mom always said I had the gift, the gift of The Knowing she called it. My mom was part Apache, one eighth to be exact, and she had the gift too, so she should know. Mom even predicted her own death. That freaked my dad out, but I understood, even though I had hoped she was wrong. That was ten years ago and Dad wasn't over losing her yet. I doubted I was either.

My mom had a strong gift. Mine is only sporadic and I don't always trust it. But this time I was beginning to trust my feelings and they said something was very wrong. All I could do was wait and see.

Wayne

Back at the parking lot, I used the tire iron to short the hot terminal of the battery to the chassis and tried to start the Jeep. It didn't work that time, or any of the dozen times I tried after that. Hell, I even tried shorting neutral to the chassis. Of course, that didn't work either.

I was worried, but Cap always told me that action banishes worry. Shrugging my shoulders, I cut the seat belts out of the Jeep. They’d be useful. I rolled them up, sans buckles, and stuck one in each back pocket. Then, with the tire iron in my left hand, I set off for the grocery store.

The local grocery store was on the main drag, only a half-mile walk from the Jeep. It had only been two hours since the electricity went off so I figured there was a good chance that the manager and most of the employees would still be in the store waiting for the lights to come back on.

I had cash, a pretty good wad of cash, thanks to Cap. Every time I went on a business trip, Cap handed me a roll of twenties and hundreds. I gave it back to him when I got home. I didn't think it was necessary to carry that much cash with me on business trips, but Cap insisted. He called it my get home money. This time he sent $3,000.

I thought flashing a couple of hundreds in front of the grocery store manager might get me into the store, even if it were closed. Nowadays most stores closed when the power went out and didn't open again until the lights came on, no Internet, no transactions.

I tapped on the glass front door at the grocery store. A balding, middle-aged guy wearing black slacks, and a white shirt came to the door and mouthed, We're closed, through the glass. I held up three hundred-dollar bills. He opened the door. It worked at the hardware store too. I soon had most of what I needed so I headed back to the motel.

The motel seemed pretty much abandoned now. That puzzled me. I had no idea where the lodgers went. Maybe they were hiding in their rooms? I retrieved my bundle and slipped around to the rear of the motel. I found a more secluded room that appeared to be empty, so I broke in. I spent the afternoon packing and repacking my stuff, and studying the travel atlas I bought at the grocery store. Then I sacked out. Tomorrow, I’d be on my way home to see Lucy and Ben, as well as Cap and Mary, Cap's wife and Lucy's mom.

Yeti

My nickname is Yeti. Folks call me that because I’m so big and tall. I just turned fifteen last week and I stand six-feet six or seven. I weigh over 400 pounds. I knew what happened when I saw the first flash in the sky and the second flash just confirmed it.

My mental abilities are good. My physical abilities aren’t, mostly because of my weight and all the time I spent on my laptop at the orphanage in Belen. I was already finished with high school. I took some advanced placement tests and had my high school diploma at age eleven. I wanted to go to college, but I didn't have the money saved up yet. I was accumulating funds in an online account fairly quickly now though. I thought I’d have enough money to start college and pay my way through my bachelors, masters, and Ph.D. degrees in about six months—but that wouldn’t happen now.

I guesstimated my money disappeared when the first EMP exploded to the east.

There was no panic yet around the orphanage. No one else had any idea of what had happened. They were just waiting around for the electricity and cell phone towers to come back on. I knew, with no electricity to pump wells, water would soon be a major problem here in New Mexico. I had no friends at the orphanage. It was time for me to leave.

Wayne

I headed north on I-25, walking along the shoulder. The next exit was Lemitar, about five miles from Socorro. I was fairly heavily loaded. In addition to my bulky bedroll and overnight bag, I had three full gallon jugs of water slung on paracord and pieces of seat belt on my back. The miles passed quickly.

I passed empty cars every two to five hundred feet, as well as the occasional 18-wheeler. I didn’t see anyone or any bodies. I assumed the occupants walked to town the day before.

I was glad to be on the way home. I was relaxed and thinking about my wife and son. I figured it would take a few days before people got out of hand. I was wrong. I should have been paying more attention.

Hey, Mister, the voice shouted, stop right there.

Yeah, a second voice said, let me see what you got. The two men pointed pistols at me.

If I had a gun and was paying attention, I could have shot both of them, but I didn't have a gun. The manager at the hardware store refused to sell me one since I was from out of state. I should have taken what I needed. Cap always said I was far too soft. For the first time, I understood what he meant.

The two men divested me of my belongings, and made me empty my pockets. They took it all, well except for my watch, which was hidden under my shirtsleeve.

Should we kill him?

Yeah, let's kill him.

I stooped, grabbed a water jug, and ran like hell. They fired and missed, but not by much. They kept shooting and ran after me. These guys must be seriously fucked up. In only a day and a half, civilization was gone.

Both the guys chasing me were medium height or less. They lacked my long legs. They also lacked the fear of death their guns instilled in me. I outran them. It took me another fifteen minutes of full on sprinting to lose them, but I did it. I ran at a slower pace after that, but I ran.

Thanks to Cap, I was still alive. Eight years ago, when I married Cap's daughter, I was overweight and out of shape, in spite of my job in construction. Cap took me in hand, gently at first, and then with an increasing firmness until I was in good physical condition. Now, four extremely early mornings a week when I was home, and a full day on the weekends, Cap put me through his personal version of boot camp hell. I was used to it now, but he still managed to push me almost to my breaking point at least once a week. He didn't spare himself either. After eight years, he could still outrun me, although I was by far the stronger.

Thanks to Cap, I knew I could keep going longer than the two guys who took my stuff.

By evening, I was a good ten miles farther north. I could see I-25 in the distance every now and then, but I was hidden in the creosote bushes far from the interstate.

I settled in for the night, hoping no rattlesnakes liked the spot I picked. I took stock of my possessions, one half-full, gallon water jug, one watch, my shoes, and the clothes on my back, minus my suit coat, which had been in my pack roll. Everything else was gone. The bug out kit I put together between the grocery store and the hardware store was gone—even the Swiss Army Knife was gone. I didn't even have a single match.

When we were together, Cap constantly told me stories, most were stories of survival in the wilderness. After a while I stopped listening because I never thought of myself as a survivalist. Now I wished I’d paid more attention. I lay on the ground trying to recall all of the survival stories Cap told, one by one, until I fell asleep.

Julie

I awoke before dawn and the electricity was still out. The feeling is strong within me that something is very wrong this time. I decided to throw some stuff together and drive to the ranch. My dad wanted me to come home to the ranch when I lost my job, but I like working and wanted another job, so I found a less expensive place and kept looking for work.

It was still dark when I tossed my suitcase into the back seat and tried to start the car. It wouldn't start. There was complete silence when I turned the key. Just my luck, the car was broken too. I’d have to wait until daylight to see if I could fix it. I’m hoping it’s just a loose wire. Damn old car.

Wayne

The next morning, I woke at first light. I was shivering and hungry enough to eat a rattlesnake, but there were none in the vicinity. I looked. I waited as the sunlight grew stronger and the sky changed from black to a tentative blue, and finally a deep rich blue.

I wished I still had the atlas from my pack. Cap always told me that, before I went anywhere, I should memorize the map so I knew alternate routes in case I needed them. Yesterday afternoon I did just that. I studied the road atlas for several hours. My study would help, but now I realized that I wouldn’t be able to travel on the highway as I first thought. It was too dangerous. I’d have to stay under cover as much as possible.

Over the past few years Cap tried to teach me how to travel off-road undetected. I hoped I paid enough attention. I wished Lucy were with me. Cap trained her from childhood and her survival skills far surpassed my own. She was a better shot than I was too, but then, so was Cap. Cap taught me how to handle a huge number of firearms though, so I was no amateur when it came to guns. Now, if I only had one...

I walked north, keeping I-25 in sight to my right (east). There were fewer houses on this side of the interstate so