Digital Winter (7 page)

Jeremy focused on the West Coast. “San Onofre in California is out.”

“How many do you think will be affected by this?” The abrasiveness had left O'Tool's voice.

Jeremy couldn't tear his eyes away from the image on the large screen. “We don't know. I've never seen so many blackouts and in different zones. What happens in California shouldn't affect anything in this half of the country.” He rubbed his forehead. “There are 104 nuclear plants in 31 states, Senator. I don't know how many will shut down.”

“Shouldn't you be doing something?” O'Tool sounded angry.

The general pinned the man with his eyes. “Just because you don't see it doesn't mean nothing is being done.” He turned to Jeremy. “Get the department heads in here. I'll call the president.”

Jeremy rose without hesitation and marched from the room. He had trained for this and hundreds of other scenarios. He was prepared.

So why did he feel like vomiting?

S
tanley moved through the crowds on the sidewalks. They grew as employees in various buildings used the sudden loss of power as an excuse to leave their desks for an unplanned break. People laughed, and strangers struck up conversations. Stanley thought it odd that something as inane as a power outage could garner such attention. He had no doubt that the power would be back on soon.

He let his eyes drift up the tall buildings that made up San Diego's iconic skyline. Most were shaded or reflective, but he could see people standing on the other side of the glass, watching the growing hubbub below.

Traffic on Kettner had slowed to a crawl, and Stanley could only imagine the confusion at Kettner and West Broadway and other intersections. The outage was costing him time, but he didn't care. He had reached the point in business where worry was a distraction. He had made enough money to retire comfortably. Still he worked because it defined him. What else could he do? Traveling with Donny was almost impossible. Donny didn't enjoy it, and that meant Stanley didn't enjoy it.

He chastised himself for the bitter thought. Having a special-needs child came with a price tag other parents didn't have to pay. The few times he and Royce had traveled alone required a crew of nurses and caregivers. Donny didn't like new faces. That meant Rosa had to move in while they were gone. It worked, but she had to ignore her family for the duration of the trip—something that made Royce extremely uncomfortable.

So this was his life—a wealthy and esteemed San Diego CEO with a trophy wife who was as beautiful as she was smart, respected by a hundred and fifty employees…and yet he still felt confined, held back.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind. Like many high achievers, he was prone to small bouts of depression, but they seldom lasted long. When the blues arrived, he treated them with extra caffeine and work. He also counted his blessings, including this unplanned break in the morning.

Stanley walked half a block to his favorite coffee shop. Beanies was casual and well lit and played music from the seventies. Always a plus. Of course, they wouldn't be able to whip up his usual latte without power, but they always had dispensers full of the coffee of the day.

“Hey, Burt,” Stanley said. “You got anything hot?” The store was empty. Paper cups rested on tables where patrons sat before the lights went out.

Burt was a college graduate with a degree in philosophy. The kid was bright—he just needed to find himself. In some ways, he reminded Stanley of Donny.

“Oh, hey, Mr. Elton. Still got a couple of pots of Kenyan. Brewed them right before everything went dark.”

“Pour a large cup, will ya?”

“Sure, but I can't ring it up. Register isn't worth anything without juice, so we'll just make this one on the house.”

Light poured through the glass storefront. A battery-powered emergency light cast an eye-stinging glow. “Thanks. Your customers desert you?”

“There's more excitement out there than in here.”

“They'll be back. We're all coffee addicts now.”

“The beans have been modified to affect your brain that way. It assures our continued success.” Burt had already poured a generous amount of half-and-half into the cup. “You taking a break?”

“I was in the elevator when things went dark.”

Burt's eyebrows shot up. “You were stuck in the elevator?”

“Not really.” Stanley explained about the new safety mechanisms that allowed the elevators to descend to the first floor. “Of course, not every building has that. I imagine hundreds of people are cooling their heels in the older buildings. It's happened before.”

“I hope things get back to normal soon. I have a daily quota to meet.”

“I'm sure they will.” Stanley moved to a table and removed his cell phone. He dialed his wife but got a fast busy signal. That didn't surprise him.

“I can't get out on my cell either.” Burt moved into the service area and gathered abandoned cups. “I imagine the cell network is a little stressed. You might try texting. Sometimes that gets through when a voice call won't.”

“I hate texting. I remember when people used phones to talk to each other, not send them cryptic messages.” He paused. “I guess that makes me sound old.”

“I would never say that, Mr. Elton.”

“I bet you'd think it.”

Burt avoided the comment. “The landline works. The phone company provides its own power to wired phones. Something to do with FCC regulations.”

“Thanks, Burt. I need to call the office and let them know I'm okay and that I won't be walking up twenty-five flights of stairs.” Stanley rose and moved to the phone behind the counter and placed his call. He then called his wife's cell but couldn't get through. He tried her office phone. She answered on the first ring. “Hey, you.”

“Hey yourself. Are you okay?” Royce sounded stressed.

“Just peachy. Got stuck in the elevator for a few moments, but twenty-first-century engineering saved me. How about you?”

“Everything on campus is down. Emergency generators are running essential stuff like the bio labs. Everything else is dark.”

“So this extends to La Jolla. Interesting. It must be more widespread than I realized.”

“Well, it's not everywhere. I just got off the phone with Rosa. She said they still have power.”

“Really?” A twinge of guilt stabbed Stanley. He hadn't thought to call home. “That's good. Donny wouldn't understand why his computers weren't working.”

“That's another thing. Rosa said Donny was motoring around the condo and laughing. Something has made him happy.”

“At least he's happy. We've seen the other side, and it isn't pretty.”

The comment was met with silence. Stanley decided to push on. “I wonder why Coronado still has power.” He watched Burt wipe down the tables. Outside, people milled along the walkway. Men in suits stood shoulder to shoulder with the homeless.

“I don't know. We have an old boom box in the lab. Normally we have it plugged in, but it still had some juice in the batteries. The blackout is happening up and down the coast and even in Washington DC.”

“No way.”

Burt looked at Stanley.

“I didn't hear the newscast myself, but several others did.”

“Okay. Wow. I don't see how that can be. How can DC be having an outage at the same time? It doesn't make sense. I'm no expert, but I know we're on separate power grids.” Stanley was an avid reader, devouring two newspapers a day and a dozen magazines a month. There had been several articles written about the US power grid after Southern California's last major outage, and each one had a map of the country's power grid. East and West did not meet.

“I'm just telling you what I was told.”

“I know, hon. I'm just trying to process things. Look, if this thing lasts long, getting home might take a while. I don't have that far to go. As long as things don't back up over the bridge, I can get home fairly quick. Let's keep in touch—” The connection crackled. “Royce? Baby?”

Nothing. The line went dead.

“Great. Just great.”

“What's wrong, Mr. Elton?” Burt walked his way.

“Stupid phone quit on me. I don't suppose you have a battery-powered radio.”

“Sorry. I get all my tunes on my iPhone. The music system for the shop doesn't run on batteries.”

Stanley smiled. “Not your fault, Burt.” He looked at his coffee. “Can I get that in a to-go cup?”

“Headed back, sir?”

“I'm going to the car. Maybe I can get something on the radio.”

A few moments later, Stanley began to work his way through the crowd. In the distance, he could hear car horns honking and the mournful sound of sirens.

Roni moved through her second surgery quickly: a young man with a ruptured spleen. It was still a lengthy operation, and she couldn't cut corners. She couldn't waste time either.

The door to the surgical theater opened, and a man clad in a green surgical gown entered. He was gloved and masked, but his broad shoulders and short neck gave away his identity. Dr. Peter Court was chief surgeon for the hospital. Much of his day was spent in administration and dealing with doctors' egos, but he maintained a consistent presence in the OR.

“How we doing, Doctor?” His voice was a half-octave too high for a man his size and age. He approached, his kind gray eyes watching the orchestrated movements of modern surgery. Roni glanced up again and then returned her attention to the work before her.

“So far so good, Doctor. I was unable to save any of the spleen, and there's some additional injury, but none life threatening.”

“Good to hear. How are you holding up?”

The question worried her. “Fine. A little tired but we all are. I'm good for more surgery.”

“That's good. That's good…”

“Is there something you want to tell us, Dr. Court?”

“There are more on the way. The day and night might be longer than we assumed.”

“From the train wreck?”

“Most of those are in, but we're taking West Regional's share.”

Roni looked up. “You're kidding, right?”

“I wish I were. Their backup power system failed. I don't know why, but my guess is that they didn't maintain the generators. It happens in a tight economy.”

“How many?”

“Another thirty patients from the train, but most don't need immediate surgery. Maybe fifteen high-priority surgeries. Orthopedics and otolaryngology have their work cut out for them. West had several people in the OR when the power went out. They've been stabilized and are being transported here. We're also taking CICU and ICU patients.”

This is a nightmare
. She glanced at her team. “Are we getting help?”

“I've called in everyone I can, but it's taking longer to get in. Traffic is a mess.”

“DC traffic is always a mess.”

Court nodded. “Especially when the traffic lights don't work.” He took a breath. “I'm afraid you'll be shouldering more than your fair share.”

“Understood. We're up to the task. I recommend a rotation system for the surgical nurses.”

“I've already set something up. Of course, off-duty nurses are having the same problem getting in as the doctors. West Regional is sending staff with patients. They'll be around to help us. We'll get some surgeons and OR docs too.”

Roni couldn't imagine the nightmare going on at West Regional. She made a mental note to thank the hospital administrator for keeping the backup systems up to date.

Court remained in place.

“Is there more, Doctor?”

“The blackout isn't just in DC. It's hit most of the East Coast and other states. The phones went down a few minutes ago. The cell system is jammed.”

“Life just gets better and better.”