Deer Creek, Montana
Grace patted Jennifer on the knee. “Jennifer, I’m sure things will be alright. We don’t know anything for sure.” The two ladies had been sitting on the Anderson’s couch for twenty minutes, ever since Chuck had answered the door and found his neighbor sobbing on their doorstep.
After finding Jennifer a box of Kleenex, Chuck had sat quietly in a chair on the other side of the room, ready to help if needed. “I’m sorry to be a bother,” Jennifer managed to get out, wiping her eyes and pausing to blow her nose. “I just needed someone to talk to. I don’t want to worry the kids any more than I already have, and I can’t call anyone on the telephone.”
“Jennifer,” Grace reassured, “don’t be silly. We’re glad to be here for you.” She took Jennifer’s hand. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
Jennifer smiled weakly and squeezed Grace’s hand.
“You said that the president had a speech on the radio,” Chuck said. “Can you remember what it was he said?”
Jennifer nodded and pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket. “It was the vice president. I wrote took some notes.” Jennifer smoothed out her notes and read them to Chuck. “He said that there was a nuclear missile, he called it an EMP, and that they don’t know who did it. He said that power and phones for the country have been destroyed, and then he said that a lot of airplanes had crashed….” she trailed off again as fresh tears streaked down her cheeks.
Grace rubbed Jennifer’s shoulders. “Let’s not talk about it, Jennifer. You can worry about that later,” she said as she shot her husband a dirty look.
Chuck shrugged his shoulders and mouthed “sorry” to his wife. “I’m sorry, Jennifer,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make things worse for you. Do you mind if I look at your notes?”
Jennifer shook her head and handed him the tear-stained paper. “My writing’s messy,” she mumbled.
Chuck took the paper from her and scanned it.…4:08 P.M. EST… all North Amer… nuclear 300 miles up… destroyed elect system… EMP… comm… trans… planes crashed/dozens… 30yrs prep… govt/ltd function… military protecting… months/years to fix… don’t panic/obey laws… organize in communities… PRAY… more broadcasts.
Chuck handed the notes back to her. “Do you remember what radio station it was on?”
Jennifer shook her head. “I don’t. It was an AM station. I’ll check for you.” She was forcing herself to breath deeply in an attempt to calm down.
“Did he say that every airplane crashed?” Chuck asked, trying to sound hopeful.
“No, he said dozens that they knew of. Not sure how to take that, but Kyle’s flight had probably been in the air for close to an hour.”
“Well, there are thousands of flights in the air all the time, so odds are he made it. He’s probably worrying about you as we speak, and likely tried to call, but the phones are down,” Chuck said, his tone still upbeat. “He’ll be back before you know it, and until then, you’re welcome to come over here as much as you need to.”
Katy, Texas
Ed wove in and out of cars on the street, seeing his neighborhood with new eyes. It hadn’t changed physically since he’d driven to the airport the day before. The sun shone, leaves fluttered in a light breeze, and kids rode their bikes down the sidewalks or played in their yards. The neighborhood hadn’t changed, but the perspective Ed saw it with had reset 180 degrees. He scanned the faces of the people he saw, worried not only for them, but by them. How would things be in a day? A week? A month? He wondered. Would those people survive? Would he? When people got desperate, how would they act? Was he looking at someone who would help him, or someone who would hurt him?
“Kind of creeps me out a little bit,” Ed stated, almost in a whisper. “Notice how everybody stares at us as we drive by?”
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” said Kyle. “Probably wondering why your car’s working and no one else can go anywhere.”
“I was wondering that too. Why do you think that is?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s because of how old your Jeep is, and partly due to the fact it was parked on the bottom level of the garage at the airport and had several layers of concrete above it. You said it’s what, a ’78?”
Ed nodded.
“It wasn’t until the mid eighties that everything in cars went computerized. Now, everything is run by computer chips, and they are extremely sensitive to any kind of power surge. That’s why, when you handle computer boards, you’re supposed to wear rubber gloves or ground yourself, because even a simple static electric spark can ruin them. Your Jeep is all mechanical, no computer chips to cook.”
“Guess it’s a good thing I bought this. When I was a kid I always wanted a Jeep. Finally picked this one up about five years ago and have been working on it ever since. I was close to being done, but it doesn’t look like I’ll get there now.”
Ed swung the Jeep into his driveway and pulled forward into the garage. Kyle jumped out and lowered the garage door as Virgie appeared in the doorway.
“Did you have any problems?” she asked Ed as he climbed out of the Jeep.
“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “It was the perfect crime. We killed all the witnesses.”
Kyle laughed uneasily, knowing how hesitant Ed had been about the whole affair. “It went okay, Virgie. Others were already there, but the store was still pretty full. We squeezed as much as we could into the Jeep, and Ed watched for police the whole way home. He was sure that even though the Jeep was about the only thing on the road, the police were going to pull up behind him and haul him off to jail. I don’t think you need to worry about him turning to a life of crime.”
Virgie didn’t laugh at either of their attempts at humor.
CHAPTER 9
Sunday, September 4th
Deer Creek, Montana
An unexpected knock at the door startled Jennifer. After an endless night with little rest, she’d awakened only a short while before. What little sleep she had managed to get had been filled with dreams of Kyle: dreams where his airplane fell out of the sky, dreams where he walked through the door as if nothing was wrong, dreams where he stood alone on the edge of a deserted highway. Whatever the dream, they all resulted in tears.
Jennifer cinched her robe and opened the front door, allowing the muted, gray sunlight to illuminate the entryway. The weather had turned stormy during the night, and the ground was covered with puddles from rain that had been falling for most of the morning. She swung the door open and found a man in a sheriff’s uniform standing in front of her. He appeared to be in his early thirties, with a similar build to Kyle’s, but was maybe a couple of inches taller. His hair was short and dark, and he had brown eyes that were open wide and bored intently into hers. He smiled pleasantly as Jennifer greeted him.
“Can I help you?” Jennifer asked, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The fact that the man was wearing a uniform, along with the recollection that law enforcement had the duty to inform people when a family member died in an accident, made her heart skip two beats before assuming an accelerated rhythm with an intensity she’d never before experienced. She glanced around to see if a minister had accompanied him.
“Hi, sorry to bother you,” the officer began, an authoritative expression seemingly chiseled on his face. “My name is Doug Jarvis, Officer Doug Jarvis actually, and I’m here because of the situation that’s occurred. Are you familiar with it?”
“That depends on if there is more than one situation,” Jennifer replied, barely able to choke out the words, sure that he was preparing to tell her that Kyle was dead.