Into The Darkness (3 page)

“Yeah,
I was outside jogging,” said Dylan.

“After
that, didn’t you notice electronic devices aren’t working and there’s no
power?”

Dylan,
Kevin, and Richard looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.

The
colonel said, “It was an electromagnetic pulse, or EMP, that fried electronic
devices and took the power grid down.” Colonel Byrd pointed to the dead cell phones
on the table. “Like your phones.” Then he pointed toward the main lobby doors.
“Outside, there was a transformer that blew apart. The EMP induced a current on
the power lines and it exploded. Take a walk around. You’ll see what I’m
talking about.”

As
the colonel was speaking, the hotel clerk stepped around the corner and shined
a flashlight from the lobby, pointing the beam of light at Dylan. “Let me know
when you’re ready to have your door key,” said the clerk.

Dylan
gave him the okay sign and a quick wave.

Richard
turned to the colonel and said, “Okay, dumb shit; I just saw a flashlight that
was obviously still working.” Richard was obnoxiously shaking his head in
disagreement. “You keep talking about your alien invasion. I need a smoke.”

Richard
stood up and grabbed two more sugar doughnuts from the counter. He noticed a
roll of aluminum foil that had been used to wrap biscuits, still cold from the
dead refrigerator. Richard pulled out a two-foot length of the foil and went
back to the table. He put the foil sheet on the table in front of the colonel
and said, “If you make a hat out of this, the aliens can’t read your mind.”
Richard turned and walked away, holding a cigarette in one hand and two
doughnuts in the other.

Ignoring
the comment, Colonel Byrd folded the foil into a plane and tossed it at
Richard’s back. By the time the foil plane hit Richard, he had stuffed both
doughnuts into his mouth.

“As
you can see, Richard is an ass,” Kevin said.

The
colonel nodded his head and said, “Gentlemen, I’m not joking. I saw the aurora
from my window this morning, and then I went to have a walk around. It really
happened. Anything electric, with a computer chip, is ruined. That flashlight
you just saw doesn’t have a computer chip.” He paused to take a sip of the cold
coffee. “Most cars, jet planes, satellites, the trucks that bring food to the
grocery store, you name it, anything that supports our modern way of life is
now history.” He took another sip of cold black coffee and wondered if that was
the last coffee he would ever drink. “Take my advice and bug out now. Get home
to your families. When people realize there is no more food showing up at the
grocery store and the cities can’t pump clean water into the water towers, the
population is going to panic. That is when, shall we say, the shit hits the
fan. I give it three days to total chaos.”

Kevin
asked, “What makes you so sure?”

“I
was at a military conference about a year ago. We were there to specifically
discuss the effects of an EMP. From a military perspective, a nuclear device
can trigger an EMP. One good nuclear weapon high above the center of the United
States would send us back to the stone age.” He angrily tossed his empty coffee
cup into a large trashcan by the wall. “Our society is dependent on high
technology and we’re not prepared for an event like this. Once an EMP destroys
the power grid and micro circuitry, it is, literally, lights out. We were
warned, but nobody did anything to harden our infrastructure.”

Dylan
sat stoically, listening to the colonel and Kevin speak. He was trying to
mentally digest what the colonel was explaining.

Kevin
nervously asked, “So you think we were hit by a nuclear weapon? I saw the flash
of colored lights, but I didn’t hear an explosion or see a mushroom cloud.”

The
colonel leaned forward toward the table, placing his palms flat down on it and
looking them both in the eyes and with dire conviction, explained how there did
not have to be a bomb. The colonel believed it was a massive solar event that he
referred to as a coronal mass ejection. He told Dylan and Kevin that solar
storms cause northern lights, and a solar disturbance that could cause the dark
sky to glow as bright as the noon sun had to be massive.

“Three
days at the most. Heed my warning.” The colonel stood up, paused, and looked
out the large window, noticing it was finally past daybreak. “And then there
will be total chaos, especially in the urban areas. Those living in rural
areas, not so dependent on the grid, will not have it as bad. I would suggest
getting home to your families as soon as possible.” The colonel yawned,
stretched, and put his hands on his hips. The cold coffee was not strong enough
for him. “My plan is to get to the nearest military base, as quickly as
possible, and pull rank to get in.”

Dylan
asked, “How do you plan on getting there? You can’t drive or fly there.”

The
colonel shrugged his shoulders and said, “I’ll start walking and then maybe, if
I’m lucky, I’ll steal a bicycle.”

Sarcastically,
Kevin said, “Then get thrown in jail like a criminal and get kicked out of the
military.”

As
the colonel spoke, with his hands behind his back, they saw the bulge of a
pistol at his waist. “The delicate network of technology that held everything
so nicely together is gone. There is no federal government or organized
military. It’ll be groups of people just trying to survive. I expect ninety
percent of the population will be dead in a year. What just happened is an
absolute game changer.” The colonel lifted up his shirt from the front exposing
the pistol tucked behind his belt and said, “I won’t be an easy target for any
banditos on my journey out of here. I’m a survivor.” Colonel Byrd moved closer
to the breakfast counter and said, “I’m going to get a stash of this food and
get out of here. Good luck. You’ll need it.”

After
the colonel left, there were a few moments of silence between Dylan and Kevin.

“What
he just said scares the shit out of me,” said Dylan. “I need some proof it’s
that bad. Let’s look around. I’ll start by checking my laptop. I’m going to get
my room key. Care to join me?”

“Let’s
do it.”

As
they walked to the front desk, Dylan changed his mind and told Kevin to bring
Richard back inside, get Henry, and then come to Dylan’s room. They all needed
to talk. Dylan thought that by the time he got back into his room, Kevin would
have everyone gathered together.

After
Lee opened Dylan’s door for him, Dylan left it ajar and immediately tried the
power button on his computer. He got no response. He then tried his cell phone
again. Same response: nothing. Everything seemed fried, just as the colonel had
predicted. He sat on the small couch in his hotel room and stared at his
useless phone as he thought of his children so far away. His son Brad, just
seven years old; his daughter Jennifer, only four. His wife had stayed at home
with the children. The pulse was early enough in the morning that he thought it
was most likely they would all have been at home asleep when this happened.
Thinking of his family, his stomach tightened into a knot.

He
closed his eyes as he faced the sunlight coming through the window. He was
remembering the conversation with his son on the phone yesterday evening. His
son asked when he would get back home; Dylan told him that he would return on
Friday. Dylan’s face cringed as he thought about his situation.
How the hell
am I going to ever make it back home from here alive?
He shook his head,
opened his eyes, and stood up to look out the window. Now that it was fully
light outside, he could see that no cars on the road were moving. He cringed
again.
That colonel might be right about all this
.

“Knock,
knock,” Kevin announced, as he entered Dylan’s room with Richard right behind
him.

“Hey,
Dylan, it sounds like you need a foil hat, too,” Richard said sarcastically, as
he fondled another sugar doughnut in his hand.

“My
laptop is dead, Richard,” Dylan said, as he walked to the window and completely
opened the curtains. He gestured with his hand for Richard to look out the
window. “Take a look at the cars on the road. They’re stalled. Why haven’t they
been towed? See any lights on anywhere?”

The
three men looked out the window. As they looked down at the stalled vehicles in
the street, Dylan unlocked the window and slid it open to allow some fresh air
into the room.

Richard
leaned closer to the window and looked to the left and right. “Hey, I think I
heard something. There’s an old beat-up pickup truck…It’s parking right over
there…look!”

Dylan
laughed and said, “Yeah, that thing is older than me, no high technology to get
fried in that engine.”

Dylan
noticed Henry was missing and asked, “Where is Henry?”

Richard
pointed at Kevin and said, “He beat on Henry’s door. Henry is going to be
pissed off. He never gets up this early.”

With
a confused look on his face, Dylan asked again, “Then where is he?”

Richard
rolled his eyes and said, “Earth to Dylan, he didn’t answer the door. He’s
probably still asleep.”

In
an instant, Dylan’s face took on an expression of horror. He bolted out of his
room and down the hallway. In his haste, he bumped Richard, knocking the
doughnut out of Richard’s hand onto the carpeted floor.

Dylan
exclaimed, “Henry has a pacemaker! We have to get that door open!”

Kevin
sprinted out of the room right behind Dylan.

Alone
in the room, Richard looked at the doughnut on the floor and said, “Five second
rule,” before he grabbed the pastry off the floor and made it disappear with
one bite.

Dylan
stopped in front of what he thought was Henry’s room and asked, “Is this it?”

Kevin
nodded.

As
Dylan stepped away from the door, he said, “Stand back. I’m going to kick this
door down.”

Before
Kevin stood back, he pointed to the door’s sweet spot for Dylan, right by the
handle, but Dylan already saw his target. Dylan took a deep breath, clenched
his teeth and fists, coiled his foot up to his body and let it fly forward like
a steel spring. As his foot contacted the door, they both heard a crack in the
wood. Kevin gave him an approving nod. Dylan backed up again and sent his foot
flying hard at the same spot near the handle. On second contact, the wood
holding the locking mechanism splintered away and the door flew open. They
stepped into the room and saw Henry’s body on the bed, contorted under the
sheets. He was lying in vomit.

Dylan
was the first through the door and yelled, “Henry!”

Kevin
went to the other side of the bed, touched Henry’s face, and said,
apprehensively, “He’s cold. I think he’s dead.”

Kevin
looked away and shook his head in disbelief. Dylan turned to look back at the
doorway and saw Richard staring at Henry’s lifeless body, his eyes wide and his
face noticeably pale. Richard abruptly turned away and vomited, his breakfast
of sugar doughnuts spattering on the hallway carpet.

Dylan
looked back at Kevin and said, “This does it for me. We have to get out of
here. I’m taking the colonel’s advice.”

“How?”
Kevin asked.

Dylan
looked out Henry’s window into the parking lot. He saw the old pickup truck
they knew was still working and spoke toward the window. “Some things must
still be functioning. Let’s get out of this room and get a plan.”

As
they stepped out of the room, they saw Richard hunched over in the hallway on
his hands and knees. Saliva was hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“Get
up,” Dylan said, as he and Kevin walked past.

Richard
was still visibly pale and his body was shaking. “What about Henry?” he asked.

“There’s
absolutely nothing we can do for him. We have to get out of here now,” Dylan
replied, as he walked down the hallway with Kevin. “Get off the floor and meet
us in the lobby.”

Dylan
and Kevin stopped in the hotel’s lobby to wait for Richard. They sat there
watching the confused people making their way in and out of the main entrance.
The night clerk was still there alone, his fatigue even more obvious now. Dylan
did not think that it would be too much longer before the clerk got too
frustrated and walked away from this mess.

Dylan
stood up and walked to the edge of the lobby to see if Richard was coming down
the hallway. He saw Richard talking with Lee, the hotel’s maintenance man, just
outside Henry’s broken door. Knowing that there was nothing he could do for
Henry, and that he had broken the door, he decided not to go back and get
Richard. He desperately began to brainstorm ideas on how to get out of town and
back home to his family. Home for Dylan was Kansas City. Dylan knew that Kevin
must be from Omaha because that was the corporate office where he was stationed.
Richard lived the farthest away, based out of St. Louis. As Dylan leaned
against the wall, he dropped his head and started to feel the calamity of their
situation. They each lived a thousand or more miles away.

As
Dylan’s depressed gaze tracked downward toward the tiled floor of the lobby, he
noticed a rack of tourism brochures against a wall. One brochure stood out from
the others. The title was
Float the Headwaters of the Missouri River
.
Dylan quickly grabbed it off the rack and hastily unfolded the brochure. The
brochure described a family business that sold or rented rafting equipment and
camping supplies. According to the brochure, it was located at the headwaters
to the Missouri River, at a prime location for trout fishing and rafting.

Kevin
was still sitting on a couch in the lobby.

Dylan
held up the brochure for him to see and said, “I have the answer.”

“What?
A vacation?” Kevin asked, with a confused smirk.

Dylan
sat down and placed the brochure flat on the table in front of them. Dylan
placed his index finger on the brochure next to a large X that represented the
location of the rafting supply store. Next to the X was a tortuous blue line
running across the brochure, representing part of the Missouri River and its
headwaters. He traced his finger across the blue line and explained they should
get rafts and float downriver to make it home. Although not on the brochure,
both men knew that the Missouri River flowed through both Omaha and Kansas City
before merging with the Mississippi River at St. Louis.

As
Kevin was nodding his head in acceptance of the idea, he asked several
questions in quick succession. “How do we get to the store? How can we buy this
stuff if retail-sales computer equipment is dead? What do we eat and drink? How
could we keep ourselves alive on a thousand mile float trip?”

Dylan
did not have a chance to answer Kevin’s questions as Richard had just come
around the corner and sat down next to Kevin, interrupting their conversation.

Richard
looked apologetically at Dylan and admitted, “You were right and I was wrong.
Something very bad has happened. I was talking to that maintenance guy and he
said he’s getting out of here and going to his brother’s ranch north of town. I
saw his brother. He was the guy with the old diesel pickup we noticed going
into the parking lot. I heard his brother say there are stalled cars all along
the road. I’m a believer now, Dylan. We are in trouble.”

“Dylan
has a plan,” Kevin announced, as he pointed to the brochure on the coffee
table.

“What?
A vacation?”

Dylan
rolled his eyes again and explained, “No, an escape out of here.”

Dylan
quickly explained to Richard what he had just explained to Kevin. Richard nodded
his head in agreement as Dylan spoke. Now Dylan could answer Kevin’s first
question. They would get to the rafting store in the old pickup they saw in the
parking lot.

“Richard,
we need to convince the owner of that truck to drive us there,” Dylan said, as
he pointed to the brochure.

“We
better act quickly. It looks like he’s getting ready to leave with his
brother,” Richard said, pointing to the front desk. Lee and his brother were
standing there.

“Let’s
go. You first, Richard,” said Kevin.

Richard
greeted Lee and his brother again, then introduced Dylan and Kevin, and asked
if they could get a ride. Richard explained that he knew it was a pickup and
they had no problem riding in the bed of the truck. He held the brochure up to
their prospective driver and explained to him where they needed to go.

Lee’s
brother said, “No problem. It’s right on my way home.”

“Thanks
for helping us. How much time before you leave?” Dylan asked.

“My
brother is fix’n to quit this place. I’d give it thirty minutes.”

“Sounds
good,” said Dylan.

“Hold
on. None of us has anything that tells time,” said Richard.

“Me,
neither,” said the man. “I’ll just be hangin’ out around the front here. I’ll
wait for ya.”

Dylan
watched the man turn his baseball cap backward, like his brother Lee had worn
his cap earlier this morning. Dylan walked away thinking how much the man
looked like his brother.

Dylan
motioned for them to walk over to the empty breakfast area. He told them his
plan. They were to go back to their rooms, clean up, and put on their best suits.
They should each pack a large suitcase with some clothes, as best they could,
to accommodate roughing it for a while and bring the pillow cases from the beds
back here with them. If they were to buy equipment, Dylan wanted to put as much
as he could on a credit card. The longer they postponed getting the equipment, the
harder it would become to use a credit card for anything. Everyone was going to
figure out soon that credit cards were no good anymore. After merchants stop
accepting credit cards, Dylan thought they would accept cash for a while. He
also knew it would not take very long before cash would also become worthless.
That was why they needed to work fast and get dressed in nice clothes. It would
be easier to convince a shop owner to take the credit cards of three
businessmen rather than those of three guys in sweatpants, each with five
o’clock shadow.

Dylan,
Kevin, and Richard arrived back at the breakfast area at about the same time.
Each of them was clean-shaven and wearing a nice business suit. Sitting together
at one of the small tables, each of them clutching empty pillowcases, they
discussed what they should take to eat for their journey. Whatever they brought
would have to last without refrigeration. They decided it would be wise to take
all the bread and dry cereal they could find. Kevin opened the cabinet doors
below the breakfast counter and found a case of oatmeal packets and some boxes
of apples, bananas, and oranges.

Kevin
looked up and said, “Jackpot!” as he shifted his weight to move back from the
cabinet door, revealing the bounty of food.

Dylan
quickly leaned over and gestured a thumbs-up sign. Dylan checked on Richard to
see what he was putting in his pillowcases. It was doughnuts, pastries, and
packets of jelly. “Dump that crap out,” Dylan said, as he pointed to Richard’s
pillowcase. Richard put his hand on the pillowcase and stared back at Dylan. He
was clutching the bag as if it was a precious treasure. Dylan snatched the
pillowcase full of junk from Richard’s hands and said, “Go to the front desk
and get as much bottled water and trail mix as you can. Grab a map. Kevin and I
will finish in here.” Dylan walked to the large trashcan and dumped the junk
out of the pillowcase, shaking it to remove the crumbs.

Richard
approached the front desk with his remaining pillowcase and noticed that the
night clerk was still there, still alone. He was sitting back away from the
counter in a chair. His head was leaned back, eyes closed, and there was drool
on the corner of his mouth. Richard politely coughed and when that did not wake
the clerk, he tapped the bell on the counter. The clerk was startled awake and
jumped out of the chair, embarrassed.

“Hi.
I would like to pick up a few things you have back there,” said Richard.

“Sure,
what would you like?”

“I
am interested in the bottled water and the bags of trail mix.”

The
clerk quickly set a bag of the trail mix and a bottle of water on the counter
and asked, “Anything else, sir?”

“Yes,
there is. I actually want all of them.”

“You
mean all of the bags of trail mix and bottles of water? It would be a lot
cheaper to get this at the grocery store around the corner.”

“That’s
okay,” said Richard, as he put his credit card on the counter, “something came
up. We decided to have a company retreat and go camping. If we’re going to
rough it, we might as well do it the right way, in the woods.”

“Okay,
I will have to write your information down and run the card when the power
comes back on.”

“I
understand,” Richard said, as he slid the card closer to the clerk. The clerk
was too tired to notice Dylan and Kevin walking out of the breakfast area, past
the front desk, and out the front doors of the hotel carrying pillowcases
stuffed with food. When all the pillowcases and luggage were at the front of
the hotel, Dylan and Kevin stood at the entrance and motioned for Richard to
come out.

Carrying
a case of bottled water toward his coworkers, Richard said, “I was able to get the
other stuff sitting on the counter. I need a hand with it all.”

Not
missing their cue, Dylan and Kevin went to the counter and grabbed the results
of Richard’s shopping extravaganza. Richard was able to get the hotel’s entire
remaining inventory of bottled water and trail mix.

“Nice
work, Richard,” Kevin said, as he carried his armload to the bed of the pickup.
“Let’s get this stuff in the truck and find Lee’s brother to drive us out of
here.”

Dylan
was finished loading first and told the others to stay by the truck. He would
jog past the maintenance room, then around the hotel to see where Lee and his
brother were. Dylan felt awkward dashing into the hotel wearing a suit and
dress shoes. He slowed his pace and calmly walked down the hallway. Dylan noticed
that the door to the maintenance room was open, so he stepped halfway into that
room. It was dark in the windowless room. Dylan’s hand reflexively rose to the
light switch on the wall. His wrist flicked and the switch toggled upward. As
he heard the empty click, he realized what a foolish gesture this was, and
laughed at himself as he turned away from the empty room to exit the building
at the end of the hallway. Dylan looked quickly to the left and right through
the clear glass door at the back of the hotel before he opened it and stepped
outside. Under a large shade tree, he saw their driver and his brother talking.

“Ready
when you are,” Dylan said, as he waved to get their attention.

The
men quickly gestured back to him, motioning for Dylan to come over. Lee pointed
away from the hotel toward a nearby intersection. He told Dylan they had seen a
carjacking, and described what they had witnessed. The sound of an old car engine
had caught their attention. As the car slowly approached the intersection, two
men stepped into the street and waved their hands as if for the car to stop,
which it did. One of the men approached the driver, pulled a pistol from under
his shirt, and pointed it at the driver’s head. The driver raised his hands and
the armed gunman opened the door for the driver to exit. The gunman motioned
for the owner to run away, which he did. The carjackers drove north, toward the
highway.

“Sounds
scary, mister…?” Dylan said, as he paused to finally get their driver’s name.

“Call
me Chet,” he said, shaking Dylan’s hand.

“Did
they see you two?” Dylan asked.

Lee
replied, “Nope, we were behind this tree.” Lee looked around. ”Let’s get out of
here.”

All
five men gathered at the truck. The brothers also explained to Kevin and
Richard about the carjacking they had seen. Chet directed his brother to push
the seat forward, get the rifle out, and be ready to use it. Lee slid the deer
rifle out of the camouflage case that his brother had hidden behind the truck’s
seat. The dark brown walnut stock of the rifle was polished and shiny. The dark
wood complimented the hue of the gunmetal. The rifle looked like a work of art.
Lee firmly gripped the rifle in his hands and nodded, thankful to have the
weapon with him. He grabbed the cold metal of the rifle’s barrel, felt it warm
to his touch, and said, “There will be no more carjackers today.” As the
brothers settled into the cab of the truck, Dylan, Kevin, and Richard climbed into
the truck’s bed.

“Dylan,”
Richard said, as he tried to shift his weight on the suitcase to get a
comfortable position, “your plan better work.”

“Or
what?” Dylan asked, tilting his forehead toward Richard and lifting an eyebrow.

Richard
replied, revealing a hint of fear in his voice. “If we can’t obtain the
equipment to get on the river, we’re as good as dead. Chet’s not going to drive
me to St. Louis.” Richard paused. “Dylan, I don’t want to die.”

Dylan
thought for a moment before replying. “I’m not going to die. I’m a survivor.
Nothing is going to get between me and my family—” Dylan said, as he was cut
off by the jolt of the old truck engaging into first gear.