Breakdown: Season One (4 page)

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Authors: Jordon Quattlebaum

BOOK: Breakdown: Season One
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They offered to let Thom stay the night, but the more they talked, the more he realized that he should be on his way. The real trouble would start soon enough. John told him that most folks have less than a week’s worth of food stored at their houses, so Thomas knew he needed to get out of any highly populated towns before then.

Talia put together a small care package for him, including some thick hiking socks, a refill of his camel pack with nice clean water, and an honest-to-goodness MRE that would provide nearly 2,000 calories, along with a couple of sealed Mylar bags of beans and rice.

“I’d ask you guys to come with me, but it looks like you’ve been planning for something like this,” Thomas said.

“Something like it,” John agreed. “Started soon after we had the emergency training at the department. Knew that if I wanted to help anyone, I’d have to take care of my family first. Once I felt I had that covered, I started putting ‘care packages’ together for the neighbors, like those beans-and-rice bags. They won’t last forever, and it’ll take some cooking to get them soft, so go hungry if you think there’s danger nearby. A hungry man will smell food a long way away.” He took a sip of his milk and continued. “This world is going to need good men now more than ever, Thom. You get to your daughter and be one of those men. I started planning with my neighbors about a year ago. The folks on my block are mostly prepared. We might pull through. Going to make a go of it.”

Thom nodded.

“If you guys need to get out of town, I’m headed to Jackson Nursery, south on 63 from Columbia, about 30 miles. That Air Force guy I told you about, Andrew? It’s his family’s place. He said they’d let me in. If I get there safely, I’ll tell them about you and your family.”

It was John’s turn to nod.

“Time to go, Thom. You ready?”

“Think I’ll make it all right, John. You just take care of your family. I’ve got a long way to go to get to mine. Might be I make it back this direction. You mind if I jot you guys down on my map?”

He smiled. “We’d be honored, wouldn’t we, Talia?”

The woman smiled. “Any friend of John’s is a friend of mine.”

Unfolding the map, Thom took a pen and circled the address.

“Let’s see that. Where’d you say home was for you?”

Thom handed him the map and the pen and pointed to his house about 15 miles north of the river.

Clicking the pen, John drew a route for Thom.

“These are the roads you’ll want to take. Cross the river at the bridge on Broadway. If it looks like it’s blocked, I’d head to the next bridge down. It used to run car and rail traffic, but it just runs rail now. Folks might not think to cross there, and it won’t be clogged full of dead cars. You’ll need to start thinking a bit outside of the box. Most of the folks here will try and get home the way they always get home. They’ll follow their commute, sticking to major highways most of the time.” He swallowed, and continued, “This isn’t the best idea. Pretty soon, folks will start looting, if they haven’t already. Might take a bit for that to happen, since social media is down.

“Good folks’ll take a while longer to start going crazy, but the lawless ones’ll be taking advantage soon.” Gunshots punctuated the night as if on cue to emphasize his point. “Most likely some shop owners defending their stores from looting. You remember the L.A. riots? Same situation.

“You’re going to want to stick to the lesser-traveled routes. If you usually take I-35 north the entire way home, find some other routes that achieve the same goal. Stay to the side of the road, just off of the shoulder if you can. If you see something blocking the road, exit the highway and wait at least ten minutes for signs of activity before you move further.” He looked up at Thom, checking for comprehension. Thom nodded that he understood, and John moved on.

“I’ve also marked some roads you’d never want to take on foot during a normal night. I wouldn’t step foot in them even during the daylight hours now if you can avoid it.”

He extended a hand again, and once more Thomas took it, wrapping him in a hug with the other arm. Handing the map to Thom, he said, “You get out of the city, Thom. You get home and stay safe.”

“You do the same, John. When all of this is over, I’ll stop by and we can have some barbeque and a beer sometime.”

John nodded. “When it’s all over.”

Episode 2: The Road North

Chapter 1 – Into Darkness

Stepping into the street and seeing the door of the Willis home close behind him made Thomas Monroe’s heart sink. It meant heading from safety into danger, from the known into the unknown, and, very importantly, from light into dark.

He needed to get home, about 15 miles north of Kansas City, to a town called Liberty. There, he’d gather some things and head toward Columbia, over 100 miles away, to pick up his daughter from college. Next, they’d head south to the Jackson Nursery, where they’d hopefully find refuge from one heck of a storm.

The overcast night sky promised rain, filtering out the majority of starlight, and the moon was nowhere to be seen, which meant that the only light Thom had to navigate by was the eerie glow of the fires burning all over the city.

As John had mentioned, fire would be an issue. Moments after the EMP struck, power lines and transformers were hit with a massive energy spike that fried them, melting some of the lines and causing many of the pole-mounted transformers to burst into flame.

This, combined with the fact that emergency response vehicles wouldn’t start and the issue of plummeting water pressure, meant that, without a miracle, much of the city would burn.

The wind was rushing east, away from the Willis home, and he prayed it would continue to do so.

Taking John’s advice, he began heading toward the Broadway Bridge. The number of people on the street was less than Thom had anticipated, which gave him a sort of relief, but it also concerned him. Humanity had always been led to believe that there’s safety in numbers, so to be on his own again was a bit unnerving.

Thom kept to the darkness and tried to remain unnoticed as he walked down the street, but he soon realized that the road he was on was starting to slope downward into a sharp turn. He’d driven this road five days a week for the last couple of years and had never taken the time to really look at it.

There were huge retaining walls on each side of the road, and the stalled cars were starting to get extremely tight. Thom stopped and stepped behind one of the vehicles, remembering what John had told him earlier about potentials for ambush.

Taking a careful look around, the pieces clicked into place. He was being herded into a funnel. About a hundred yards ahead, Thom could see the path between cars open up a bit wider right before the road disappeared into the turn. It could have been nothing, but the hair on his neck was standing up, and it was there, he guessed, that an ambush would be waiting.

Back-peddling quickly, and staying low, Thom managed to trace his route back and took a different exit, leading deeper into the city. Adding distance to his trip home was a hard reality, but at this point, avoiding a potential ambush was his first concern. Better to get there slower than to be dead quicker.

The smoke thickened as Thom delved farther into the downtown area, and soon he had to stop for a breather. Taking a minute, he removed his pack, took out a handkerchief, and used a little precious water from his camel pack to wet it down. Tying it around his face helped filter some of the soot from the air and made his passage a bit more comfortable.

Zipping his bag and hefting it back onto his shoulders, Thom took a second to tighten the straps so that the weight rested properly. That’s when he heard the first shot.

Ducking behind the engine block of a nearby truck, one of the few parts of a car that he’d heard would actually stop a bullet, he peeked underneath. He was met almost immediately with another shot that struck pavement three feet to his left, sending speeding chunks of asphalt up to greet him.

“Toss out your bag, and we’ll let you live!”

“All right, all right. Just give me a second!”

The shots stopped, and he looked around desperately, knowing that they were most likely pinning him down in order for someone else to flank him. All of those afternoons playing paintball with Anna were coming in handy. Voices were shouting to one another, but Thom’s adrenaline was too high to discern what was being said.

Okay, think, Thom. Look around. There’s a bar to the left of you on this side of the street. Across the street is an alley. Up the street is an unknown, but from the smoke, I’m guessing the fire’s raging the further I head into town.
Heart pounding in his throat, he tried to calm himself. He needed to breathe, but his mask was making it difficult, and he began to hyperventilate. In a panic, Thom yanked the mask off, gulping in greedy breaths of thick, acrid smoke. As a result, he spent a few precious seconds coughing as he tried desperately to tie it back on.

The shots had stopped, and Thom knew he only had a moment. He heard a mechanical sound that he assumed was someone dropping a magazine to insert a fresh one, but he’d made his choice and was halfway across the street when he heard the bolt slide into place, making the attacker’s weapon ready to fire once again.

The world moved in slow motion, then, as Thom sprinted across the street. He glanced left and noticed an attacker taking aim. The guy looked like a kid, no older than his Anna. He dove, then, and instead of coming up in a roll like an action hero, he ended up cracking his shoulder and elbow hard on the pavement, sending a jolt up his arm, causing it to go numb from the elbow down.

Rising quickly, he winced as a chunk of brick powdered beside his head, stinging his vulnerable eyes with its dust. Diving into the dumpster, Thom covered himself in trash as far as he could burrow.

The explosions were starting to die down, and Thom could still hear the pursuers searching for him. The dumpster stank of rot, but it beat being dead.

Finally, he calmed his breathing, sure they’d hear him if he couldn’t get himself together.

Gunshots rang out, and Thom selfishly hoped whoever it was would lead them off of his trail. They seemed a bit farther away this time.

Sitting there, quite literally covered in filth for what seemed like an eternity, he began to hyperventilate again. There was something about the smell and the enclosed space. He needed to get out, but it took ages before he could gather the courage to lift the lid and peek out.

Thom had to get out of there, and he hoped the gunmen weren’t already blocking the bridges out of town yet.

Taking a deep breath (a mistake, in hindsight; it smelled of everything rotten in the world), he steeled himself to exit the bin.

That’s when the hand thrust in and grabbed Thomas Monroe by the hair.

Chapter 2 — Anna’s First Night

Anna finally collapsed into her bed around 1am, covered in soot, her mouth tasting of ash. She’d spent most of her night manning a bucket brigade to put out some of the numerous fires around campus.

The cinderblock walls did little to drown out the noise from the outside world, so she pulled her thick down comforter up over her head.

The knob of the door leading into her dorm room rattled, and she held her breath, hoping whoever it was would pass. Her heart beat in her chest as if it were trying to escape; she pulled the blankets around her tighter than before, as if a layer of fabric filled with goose down would somehow shield her from an attacker.

She had the presence of mind to move her dresser and desk against the door before climbing into bed, but she was so completely bone-weary that she knew she’d have little chance fighting someone off if they made it past her rudimentary blockade.

I wish Dad was here
, she thought to herself for the millionth time as the person in the hall continued to test the knob, and then stopped. Footsteps continued down the hallway.

She exhaled quietly, relieved that whoever it was had moved on for the time being. Break-ins weren’t exactly common in the dorm rooms, but there were folks like this who tested locks. A person would head down the hall for five minutes to buy a Coke from the vending machine, get back, and find her phone or laptop missing. It was a constant reminder for residents to always have their doors locked, even when they were inside.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash against the door, and then another. Someone was trying to break his way through. Scanning the room for any sort of weapon she could use, Anna settled on a lamp her grandfather had helped her make before his passing. It was made from a bowling pin from her seventh birthday party. Her grandfather had been an electrical contractor and had introduced her to the power of electricity. He was the reason she wanted to be an engineer.

Unplugging the lamp, she wound the cord around her left fist, took out the bulb, and stripped off the shade. The doorframe gave way with the third crash, and the assailant began to push through the barricade.

Anna struck the bowling pin lamp against the edge of the bookshelf, snapping off the fixture for the lightbulb. She wound the cord around the narrow end of the pin and used the remainder to tie her hand to the weapon. She’d go down fighting.

A fourth crash, and ambient light poured in from the hall, blocked only by the large shadow of the intruder.

“You want me?
Come on, then
!” Anna shouted and charged.

Chapter 3 — Tunnel Vision

Thom shouted and clawed and threw his elbows, but whoever it was soon had his arms locked in some sort of hold.

It took a minute for him to realize that he wasn’t dead yet, and that thought confused him. Thom looked up over his shoulder, trying to make sense of his situation.

The assailant was an elderly black man, somewhere in his 60’s, but strong. The old man held a finger to his lips, took a revolver out of his heavy coat, and fired two shots around the corner blindly.

The madman grinned, revealing a few missing teeth, and said, using his best Arnold impression, “Come with me if you want to live.”

To his credit, it was a pretty decent impression.

The man pointed to a heavy steel door built into the side of the alleyway that read “Service Entrance, Employees Only.” In a flash, he’d reached into the neck of his shirt and fished out a necklace with a key on it, opened the door, and motioned for Thomas to enter.

It was pitch black, and Thom had no idea what he was stepping into, but he knew the alternative was to get himself killed, and it didn’t seem right to go and do that after this man had risked himself for him. So Thom rushed in blindly.

Arnold followed Thom inside and closed the door behind them, leaving the men in near-complete darkness. Thom let out a yelp as one of Arnold’s strong hands grabbed him by the elbow. The old man led them by feel through the corridor to, and through, another doorway. There was a sound of metal on metal from the floor.

“Turn around, we’re gonna be climbin’ down a ladder with metal rungs. Gotta do it by feel. The rungs are rebar, like if you’ve ever been down a manhole. Careful, might be slippery. Get to the bottom, thirty rungs, all told. Take two steps back when you touch down. I’ll be right there.”

True to his word, he was right by Thom’s side after he finished the climb and stepped back. 

The flick of a lighter brought enough light to see for a few feet in each direction.

Thom, never satisfied, reached into his bag. He’d isolated the contents into different compartments depending on use, so it was fairly easy to find items by touch alone. He pulled out a large glow stick. Cracking the wand, Thom gave it a nice shake and brought some extra light forth.

Looking around, he was in awe. It looked like they were in an old subway tunnel, made from brick. It was straight out of the
Ninja Turtles
. The actual brickwork was badly water damaged but apparently still strong enough to support itself.

“We’re under the city,” Arnold said. “Old tunnel, used to run a trolley back in its day. There’s another tunnel under this one that’s a bit newer. Had to dig it because the original incline was too steep, kept wearing out the trolley lines.”

Thomas’ mouth just gaped.

“Name’s Herb, by the way. Friends call me Herbie. You can call me Herbie.”

Forcing himself to snap out of it, Thom turned to Herbie. He was grinning like a madman.
Lord
, Thom thought,
I hope he isn’t a madman
.

“Pleasure meeting you, Herbie. Thanks for saving my life. This breakdown of society took a lot less time than I thought to kick in.”

“Well, it was a lot faster than I thought it’d be too, Thom. I’d heard of kids in the city getting killed for their shoes, or for wearing the wrong color on the wrong corner, so I guess a backpack in this case was as good as a pair of Jordans. Bet tomorrow it calms down, though. Those kids probably don’t really understand what’s going on just yet. Just saw some unfortunate guy on his own on their turf with no cops in sight. Tomorrow will be calm. Folks will stay inside mostly, I bet. Give it a few days, and things may be like that all over.”

Thomas shook his head. “Seems a bit hopeless. Thanks again.”

“Couldn’t just let a good man die like that. What kinda world would this be if good men didn’t help one another out?”

“How’d you know I was a good man?”

“Well, it was just a guess, but I could see that you were in a bit of a rough spot. Call it divine inspiration.”

Thom shook the man’s hand and asked, “How far does the tunnel go?”

“Not too far. Few hundred feet. It’s not in great shape further back you go, either. It’s the best climate control system the world’s got to offer, though. Dead of winter, I head down here, 50 to 60 degrees or so year-round.”

“Why not sleep at a shelter?”

“Not enough beds most nights. After the economy tanked in ’08, things got crowded. Priority to families. Old men like me get last pick. Besides, bedding down there’s a good way to get my stuff stolen. Happened more than once that way.”

Thom nodded. “Makes a whole lot of sense. You’re a smart guy. How’d you get the key?”

“Manager lets me sweep up at night. Key only gets me access to the hall, and to this room. Knew his father back in the war. Good man, raised a good kid. Hope he’s okay out in this mess.”

“I hope so too. So what’s the plan, Herbie?”

“Stay the night down here, leave at dawn. Most of the troublemakers will be sleeping off tonight’s adventure during the day. We’ll get you outta here then.”

“Appreciate that. I’ve got a long way to go.”

The two men talked for another hour, as Thom filled Herbie in on his life, and vice versa.

Herbie was a Vietnam veteran; a door gunner. He’d taken a couple of bullets on a rescue mission and was one of the few who got to come home in one piece.

He talked to Thom about his struggles with addiction and told him about how he lost his job, his marriage, and his home to it.

“They didn’t know what PTSD was back then. Called it shell shock. It was something you were supposed to just get over after a little bit. Mental health problems, well, my generation looked at ‘em as a sign of weakness, you understand? Something you should have just been able to tackle through sheer will alone.” Herbie shook his head sadly, a far-off look in his eyes. “Couldn’t sleep. I’d wake up and think someone had broken into the house. I’d grab my rifle and sweep the house room by room, and then wake up a couple of hours later to do it again. Only way I’d sleep through the night is to get blackout drunk. Which I did often.”

Thom’s heart went out to this man as he continued listening to his story.

“Got my first taste of heroin in ’Nam. Used it over there to feel good and forget. Got home and started using for the same reasons. Temper was short during those years. Wife tried to stand by me. She did it longer than she should have, by my own reckoning. One day I get home from a five-day bender, and there’s a note on the front door saying she’d left me. Never saw her again.”

Thom was glad that it was dark. He knew Herbie didn’t want his pity, and he would have seen it all over his face.

“We should probably get some shuteye. We’ve got a long walk tomorrow.”

“We?” Thom said, obviously confused.

“I’m going with you. Don’t have a whole lot else going on right now, and you’ll need a hand along the way, don’t you be doubting. Night, Thom.”

Thom heard the sound of him settling into his sleeping bag and, after a minute, the sound of soft snoring.

“Night, Herbie.”

Thom Monroe thought for a moment. This was a man he’d never met before tonight. He was an admitted addict, living in a tunnel under the city. Could Thom really trust him with his life? He’d rescued him, sure, but trusting him to get home was something a bit different. It wasn’t just Thom’s life, either. He was trusting him to get Thom home so that he could get to Anna safely. What if he did something that jeopardized their safety?

After a long minute, Thom decided he’d sleep on it, and he did just that.

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