It was definitely water and not sewage, which he thought it might have been. At least that was a good sign. Sewage would bring disease real quick and he wasn’t sure how long the municipal waste system would last. He was still on well water and a septic field, so he didn’t pay much attention to that.
Slowly standing up he looked around and saw a younger guy working under the hood of his car like it was going to do him any good. Looking past the car, he saw a substation for the water system. Out here in the suburbs, he was really not far from the Detroit city limit, give or take 12 miles or so, and the water that was used was purchased from the city of Detroit. It was pumped throughout Lower Michigan with these little pump stations scattered around all over to help boost water pressure.
Toward the east side of the fence line, there was a large pipe coming out of the ground in a sweeping elbow which reminded him of the air intakes on old ships. This one, however, was dumping water into a retention pond which apparently had overflowed a while ago. Off toward the actual substation building, he spotted another guy who looked to be working on valves. The man was feverishly turning valves on this pipe, more valves on that pipe, and it looked like a losing battle. Haliday was interested in this and started heading that way.
The young kid working on his car looked up at Haliday and then turned white. The kid started to visibly tremble at the sight. Haliday had not realized it at the time, but at this particular moment looking at a guy with a .40 caliber strapped to his belt and carrying a rifle slung on his pack was just not normal in this area. Haliday said, “Take it easy kid, just moving on through to go check out that water plant.” The kid got inside his car and just watched as Haliday strode by. Coming up a little closer to the substation, he saw a sign warning trespassers of an electrical fence, so he stopped.
He just stood there a moment longer watching the worker turn valves, cussing as he did so. He started to wonder how the water was being pumped and doubted the extreme nature of the emergency, thinking the power loss was actually sporadic and not an entire regional or national loss. This was the reason he didn’t get too close to the fence.
The worker glanced up and saw him standing there. He too stopped dead and looked at Haliday. Again Haliday found himself telling another person not to worry. This time he got a response. “No offense partner, but you don’t look like you’re out hunting rabbit,” said the worker.
Haliday said, “I guess you’re right, but anyway, my name is Roger and I was just curious as to why the pump station has power when the rest of the area is out.”
The guy said, “We don’t have power.”
Confused a bit, Haliday asked how the water was being pumped. He got a one word answer to that question. “Gravity.”
Haliday said, “I don’t understand, how can that be? Could you put it in lay man’s terms for me? I’d appreciate it.” Haliday was always looking for this kind of information; you never know what you may need to do and how to do it.
The guy working the valves said, “It’s simple. The river downtown is a lot lower than the land out here in the burbs. The pumping stations are daisy chained together to pump the water up the elevation. The pumps stopped, the back flow valves were electromechanical and they failed along with some of the safety valves.
Therefore all of the water pumped into the burbs is now flowing back toward the main plant and coming out of the overflows into the retention ponds located nearby their substations.” The pond being past capacity was why the ditch was wet. The water had to go somewhere.
When he thought about it, it really made sense. Haliday asked one more question, “How much water is flowing back and what’s going to happen at the plant?”
The guy paused then said, “I don’t know, but the worst that could happen is that the main plant and downtown Detroit gets a few wet streets.”
“No big loss,” Haliday said. “As a matter of fact that place could use a bath. Not quite the infamous motor city with sprawling plants and bustling workers and shops it used to be,” Haliday added.
Haliday thanked the man for his time and started moving on again. He had a plan which required some very delicate adherence to time tables and he was about an hour behind. He had a goal to achieve and the quicker the better.
He was only about a mile and a half away from home at this point, and this early on he just took the sidewalks and streets. Very few people would be a threat this early on, but he was still very aware of what was going on around him. He was closer to home and cutting through a parking lot by the local supermarket when he noticed they had the doors propped open.
“Ahh, just a few steps out of my way,” he told himself and so he walked in. Eddie the store manager spotted him and told him they were closing up. Haliday nodded and told him “Ok,” then turned and walked out. Eddie shouted out, “Hey, are you going bear hunting or something, Roger?”
Haliday said, “Good luck Eddie,” and continued walking out, not saying another word.
On his way out he looked at the store front. Typical of a grocery store; it was all windows. He wondered how long these would last. Other than the single back set of double doors and the one roll up loading dock door, this was the only way in. Chances were when he got back this place would be stripped clean. He didn’t give it any thought; he had what he needed, but of course he always wanted more.
Hell, he would have been happy to walk out with a few bags of rice and beans. That thought made him chuckle. Beans, beans and more beans, he thought. Oh boy, the butt trumpet was going to be playing a continuous melody shortly. Simple things amuse simple minds, but that was not really the case here. He was an average guy. Things like that were just plain funny.
He thought about the market. That place would be an absolute nightmare. He didn’t buy into the whole 3-day food supply theory. He knew that once people realized it was their last chance, the place would be stripped in hours. Three days my ass, he thought. Not in this neighborhood.
On the other side of the strip mall at the end was his favorite pizza place. There were a few folks inside here too. It looked like all kids in their late teens. He waved at the kids who were cleaning up and getting ready to close the store. One waved him over. He told him he was in a hurry, and the kid said, “We have a couple pizzas nobody picked up, you want one?” There was no hesitation. He agreed, even offered to pay for it; but they told him not to bother. He thanked them, took the box and started to walk out. They asked him if he knew what happened and he said, “No idea.”
One kid said, “Well sir, based on your firearms, I’d say you have a very good idea.”
He felt a little badly about his answer. He looked at the kids and asked them how far away they lived. A couple miles away was the furthest any of them lived. He told them to listen carefully. He advised them to forget about cleaning the store, forget about locking it up, and forget about anything other than getting home as soon as they could.
That’s all he would tell them. Out of the three kids, two left immediately. The third who commented on his guns looked him square in the eyes and asked him just how bad it was. “It’s real bad, worse than you could ever imagine,” Haliday said. The kid grabbed the last three boxes of pizza and left in a hurry.
Haliday opened the box and took a slice out and started to eat it. It was room temperature, but he didn’t care too much; it was going to be the last pizza he ate in a long time. He walked out and headed straight for the sidewalk. He saw the last kid dart down one of the nearby side streets. Haliday figured most of them were from the neighborhood.