EMP Aftermath Series (Book 1): The Journey Home Read online

  The Journey Home

  An EMP Survival Story

  By John Winchester

  Copyright 2017 John Winchester

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and events are used fictitiously. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher and author.

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  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

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 1

  A deer stepped into the narrow two-lane road, frozen in the headlights of Jack Miller's Honda Civic. Two more of the animals stepped out from the deep shadows of the forest lining the side of the highway, joining the first deer. The herd looked on at the oncoming car, seemingly unaware of the danger posed to them by the two thousand pound vehicle attached to the bright lights.

  "Jack, look out," Tom said, bracing himself against the dashboard in the passenger's seat.

  Jack stomped on the brake pedal and flung the steering wheel hard to the right.

  The white sedan slid sideways down the road, tires squealing as it barreled towards the herd of deer, threatening to tip over as two wheels came off the ground.

  "Dang it," Jack said, gritting his teeth. He eased the wheel to the left, and the car straightened out on the road, just before the antilock brakes kicked in and the vehicle slowed to a stop.

  The three wide eyed does hunched down and leaped off the road, silently bounding back into the safety of the woods along the roadside. The rural highway belonged to Jack once again, his headlights illuminating the double lanes curving through the countryside.

  Jack gave a sigh of relief and wiped the beads of sweat of his forehead. His pulse slowed as his adrenaline rush dissipated.

  "Here, hold this," Tom said, passing a half empty cup of coffee to Jack.

  Tom's white dress shirt was soaked from the spilled coffee, leaving a wet outline that ended in his lap. "Damn it Jack, pay more attention to the road. With all of the crackpot doomsday theories you talk about, it'll be a damned deer crossing the road that winds up killing us."

  Jack set the coffee in a cup holder and passed a handful of napkins to Tom, suppressing a laugh before he resumed driving.

  "They are not crackpot theories Tom. Disaster scenario is the term you are looking for. Besides, they aren't my crackpot theories. I just pay attention to the right people. Not the vultures on the ten o' clock news that report on disasters after they happen.

  Pick up a history book sometime. The past is littered with civilization ending events. And with the amount of fragile technology we use today compared to just a hundred years ago? Forget about it, we're all hosed. It's only a matter of time. If you don't want to be one of the survivors, well, ignore the facts all you want my friend," Jack said, unable to contain a measure of smugness.

  "Just because a few bunker dwelling eggheads believe the world will end in their lifetime doesn't mean we should all freak out. I want to enjoy life, not worry about what's coming around the next corner. You'll drive yourself nuts worrying about all the things that could kill you," Tom said.

  "Speaking of crackpot theories, did you watch the news last night? That North Korea ballistic missile came down three hundred miles off the coast of San Francisco. They could tip one of those babies with anything; a dirty bomb, a pathological agent, an EMP. Tell me that doesn't scare the hell out of you," Jack said.

  "Oh God, not this again, forget that I even mentioned doomsday. Or crackpots. How many miles left until we hit Kansas City? You've already lectured me on nuclear war, pandemic disease, solar flares, and asteroids this trip. I don't know how much more of the apocalypse I can take. My mother in law is coming in town next weekend. Tell me how to prep for that," Tom said.

  "You're on your own there. Seriously though, Three hundred miles off the coast! North Korea has seriously upped their game in the last couple of years. These aren't small test missiles we're talking about. These are ballistic missiles capable of carrying large payloads. You can't tell me that China hasn't slipped them tech--"

  "Do you subject your wife to all this nonsense, or is it just me? You can't go around worrying about this type of stuff. It might happen, or it might not. It's going to drive you mad," Tom said.

  "Of course I subj--. Yes, Amy and I talk about preparedness quite a bit," Jack said. Though if he was honest with himself, he did most of the talking and she did the listening. At least he hoped she was listening.

  "Tom, I'm just saying it's better to be a little prepared than to be caught completely off guard. Even having a few extra cases of bottled water and a two week supply of food on hand could mean the difference between life and death."

  "A pile of tin cans and a bunker in my basement isn't going to make me feel any safer. You scare too easy Jack. You just have to roll with the punches. You can't be prepared for everything life throws at you. The risk is so minimal it isn't even worth worrying about. If any of this stuff happens in my lifetime, I'll eat my shoe," Tom said.

  Jack drove on in silence for a few moments, watching Tom out of the corner of his eye. Tom took a sip of his coffee, and Jack tapped his foot on the brake. The last bit of coffee spilled out of the cup, dribbling onto the front of Tom's shirt.

  "Jackass! Seriously, what is the matter with you? Are we thirteen years old here?"

  "I told you, accidents happen. It pays to be prepared," he said.

  Tom shook his head, looking less than amused.

  "Oh come on, you were already wet." Jack chuckled, handing a stack of napkins to Tom.

  "Did Kenny teach you that trick, or Danny," Tom asked.

  Jack laughed. "Neither of the boys. That one is older than dirt. Kind of like you Tom."

  Tom was a good friend and coworker, even if he did rib Jack about his prepping hobby. He couldn't blame Tom for being a little cranky about the spilled coffee. Both of them were sleep deprived and over-caffeinated in their push to make the drive from Springfield Missouri to Kansas City tonight. After two weeks of work integrating servers at a series of distribution sites for a client, they were both exhausted and ready to finish the job.

  Setting up the last two servers up at the Kansas City facility would take three days, tomorrow morning, Tuesday, and Wednesday. If they worked hard they could be out by Wednesday afternoon. Then they would be free to make the long drive back to the home office in Baltimore. It was about time too, he missed Amy and the boys, it was hard to be away for work
this long.

  Suddenly, the power lines strung from poles along side of the road glowed blue, looking like strands of blue neon draped from pole to pole. As quickly as the blue color appeared, the strands brightened and changed color to a white-hot glow, dimly illuminating the road.

  "Tom, do you see that? What the heck is that," Jack asked, the hackles on the back of his neck standing straight up as a shiver ran through him at the eerie sight.

  "What the--"

  A flash of blinding white light dispelled the darkness as an electrical transformer mounted to a telephone pole exploded just in front of the car, sending sparks flying in every direction. The transformer burst into flames of white and blue, dripping white-hot molten metal to the ground.

  Jack squinted his eyes and brought his hand up to shield his face against the brilliant light. For a brief moment the highway was as bright as day, turning the gray and black landscape into their daytime shades of color.

  The light disappeared quickly enough, leaving the car enveloped by darkness, hurtling down the rural highway. The car's headlights and dashboard were dark. The burning transformer in the rearview mirror was the only visible light.

  Jack struggled to see through bright white blob seared into his vision from looking at the transformer. He thought he could see the lines in the center of the road, but realized in a panic that it was the afterglow from the overloaded power lines. He slammed his foot down on the brake, but it was too late.

  The car shuddered violently as it ran off the side of the road into a ditch. The car spun out of control and then flipped onto its side, tumbling over and over again until it slammed in to a tree, throwing Jack forward against his seat belt. His head struck the windshield, and then he was flung back against his seat. The sound of metal and glass crushing into the tree was deafening, impossibly loud and close.

  When the noise stopped, he reached for his seat belt in the darkness, cutting his hands on shards of glass scattered across his lap. Jack felt around his body, afraid to find bones sticking through the skin. Every inch of his body registered pain. The world spun wildly from the car's tumbling roller coaster exit off the highway, his head throbbing.

  "Tom, are you all right," he asked.

  Antifreeze dripped onto the engine block, hissing as it touched the hot metal and evaporated as a puff of steam. Broken glass crumbled underfoot as he let off the brake pedal.

  As his eyes adjusted to the moonlight, Jack took in the severity of the crash. Glass splintered in a circular pattern where his head impacted the windshield, stained with blood. All of the windows were broken out. The front end of the car was crumpled all the way to the dashboard, and the roof of the car was smashed in so that he couldn't sit up straight in his seat without hitting his head. A mixture of bright pinpoints of light and black spots formed in front of his eyes, his vision narrowed to a small grey tunnel in front of him.

  Panic set in. He knew this feeling. He'd blacked out once before as a teenager after hitting his head on the pavement playing basketball. He turned to his friend in the passenger seat, his foggy mind finally remembering that Tom was in the car with him.

  Tom's mouth hung open, his head lolled to the side at an awkward angle. His eyes were closed, as if asleep, and his body slouched over against the passenger door.

  Jack reached over and shook Tom, attempting to rouse him.

  "Tom. Wake up! We crashed. Come on Tom, get up" he said.

  Tom didn't move.

  His arm sluggish and heavy, Jack put his hand on Tom's chest to make sure he was still breathing. His hand bumped into a large rough object sticking out of the middle of Tom's chest. Jagged and splintered pieces jutted out of the end of it, and he recognized the texture as tree bark. Jack pried a splinter off of the branch sticking through Tom, deliriously attempting to pull the branch out bit by bit.

  His eyes grew heavy, his world spun wildly, and then he slipped into sleep as a silent deep darkness overtook him.

  Chapter 2

  Amy Miller fluffed up her pillow, stretching out on the bed as she waited for the movie to start. A 'chick flick', as Jack dismissively called them. Exactly what she needed.

  Jack was out of town on a business trip all week. Her younger son Danny was having a sleepover at a friend's house, the Lamberti's, and was being dropped off at school in the morning. Her older son, fourteen year-old Kenny, should be in bed sleeping right now because tomorrow was a school day, but she was willing to bet that Kenny was in his room still awake, absorbed in his video games. Not what he should be doing, but at least he was out of her hair until the morning, unless he ran out of potato chips.

  Her boys were all accounted for, meaning that this supermom could take off her cape for the day and enjoy a movie. It was finally time to let her hair down and relax. She was taking a personal vacation day tomorrow, a well-earned break from the busy sixty to seventy hour work week at the accounting firm.

  She peeled the top off of a pint of mint chocolate ice cream, watching as the federal copyright violation notice came on the screen. She grabbed the DVD remote, pushing the menu button repeatedly, trying to skip past the warning. "Oh come on, just play the movie already."

  The copyright warning went away as the screen went dark, leaving the room pitch black.

  "Great. What now?" Amy turned on the bedside lamp, but the bulb must have been burned out, because it didn't come on as she flicked the switch.

  She tiptoed over to the entertainment center, cautiously placing one foot in front of the other in the dark, wary of stubbing her toe. She set her ice cream on the highest shelf of the entertainment center. Her orange tabby cat, Oscar, had a sweet tooth, but he was a lazy old tomcat that didn't put much effort into anymore these days. He could jump the height, but she knew he wouldn't. The ice cream would be safe.

  The television wouldn't turn on, and the little red light wasn't even on as she pressed the power button.

  "That's weird Oscar."

  She turned the bedroom overhead light on, but it didn't work either. Feeling her way along the wall to the bathroom, she took a scented candle and a book of matches from the cabinet, curling her nose at the sulfuric smell of the match as she lit the candle.

  Back at the entertainment center, she checked to see if the power cords were still plugged into the surge protector, but they were all still in place. There had to be wrong with the power. A circuit breaker was tripped or something.

  She could almost hear Jack's condescending tone he got when he talked about something technological that he knew how to fix.

  You can solve almost any computer or electrical problem by doing one of two things. Making sure the device is plugged in, or powering it off and then powering it back on again.

  Amy didn't mind that much really. Jack wasn't a bad guy. He just came across as a bit of a know it all sometimes. He was, after all... well, male. A technical guru he may be, but for all of his technical know how, he could be somewhat lacking in interpersonal skills and needed to work on the 'soft touch'.

  As she headed down the stairs to go into the basement where the fuse box was, she noticed that the digital display on the thermostat was off. "Huh. Maybe it's the whole house."

  She descended the creaky wooden steps, her eyes adjusting to the dark basement. The flame from her candle flickered from a drafty window, and she cupped her hand around it to keep it lit. She passed the rows of shelves, packed with goods all the way to the ceiling, each one neatly stacked and labeled with canned food, bottled water, and other supplies.

  Amy reached the breaker panel and pulled it open, looking up and down the array of black switches. All of them were in the ON position, including the master breaker. Being the thorough person she was, and probably she admitted, because Jack would have said something if she hadn't done it, she flipped all of the circuit breakers, including the main breaker, from the off position back into the on position.

  "Well, shoot. That didn't do anything, did it?" It didn't sound like any of the appliances had co
me on upstairs, and as she went back up the steps she yanked the cotton string hanging from a basement light, giving it a yank, but expecting nothing to happen.

  Emerging from the basement stairs, she walked back up the steps to her bedroom.

  "MOM. The power is out," Kenny said loudly.

  Amy nearly jumped down the stairs, her heart pounding from her son's voice shouting directly in front of her in the darkness.

  "Geez Kenny. You almost scared me to death."

  "When is the power going to come on? I can't sleep, and I want to play my video game," he said.

  "I don't know Kenny. The circuit breaker is fine. It must be a problem at the electric company. We'll have to wait and see when it comes back on. You know what? We've lived in this house for six years and this is the first time we've ever lost power. And your father is not here to say 'I told you we need a generator'. It was his big moment," she said.

  Amy opened the freezer door of the refrigerator, and put her pint of ice cream back inside where it wouldn't melt for a while yet. Disappointed that her plans for a quiet night were off, Amy wondered what she would do until the power came back on. "I guess I should have let him buy that generator."