Post Grid: An Arizona EMP Adventure (6 page)

“This desert sure gets cold at night,” Jose said.

“Yep, hot during the day and cold at night. You can't win.”

“Speaking of can't win, I'm afraid for the kids and us too. Lynn was right you know—town is several days' walk. More than seventy-two hours.”

“I know. Don't panic the kids, though. We can take stock again in the morning and make a plan. We've got our seventy-twos plus the cooler. We have water too.”

“I don't like this, Dennis.”

“I don't like it either. Don't let it make you crazy while you're on watch, though. We need all the rest, calm and wit we can muster.”

Dennis nodded and went off to bed.

****

Jose heard rustling from the tents as dawn broke over the eastern mountain tops. Slowly, rumpled figures emerged from their olive-drab cocoons.

“Get all of your electronics out,” Dennis urged.

Everyone met back at the SUV. No car ignition, no radio, no phones, no GPS. Blank faces were seen all around. Lynn fought back tears, looking much older than she had yesterday morning.

“Let's get breakfast,” Dennis said. “Maybe some food in our stomachs will help us think better.”

It didn't take any time at all to retrieve oatmeal packets, granola bars and Pop Tarts from their twenty-four hour packs. Jose ate a can of Beenie Weenies, cold. The meal provided physical and emotional nourishment in a world that was becoming uncertain.

“It's clear that whatever is going on is affecting more than just us,” said Jose as he sat with the others gathered around the table. “The sky was black all night. I didn't see or hear a single plane. We aren't that far from Phoenix and should be seeing planes at regular intervals. The CAP Cessnas can fly without electronics; the flight controls use cables. They would be able to land, but the pilots wouldn't take them back up without GPS and radios. The newer airliners and military aircraft are all computer-controlled; who knows how they fared. Not well, I'd guess.”

“We need to get ourselves out of here. We shouldn't waste any daylight if we're going to walk clear to Phoenix,” Dennis said. “We have food for a few days, but we can't waste it sitting here. We can make it to the road in a day.
If
things get back to normal, we can just hitchhike back to town.”

“We can see the highway from that hill,” Lynn said pointing south. “I could see it up 'til about a mile ago when we went over the ridge.”

“Let's take a stroll and get a better look,” Dennis said.

The ground team pulled on their twenty-four hour packs and started up the dirt road. Jess thought about how no one was talking much as they walked. Usually, ground team members laughed and joked as they walked. No one felt like joking this morning. They were all worried.

After a short hike, the group rounded the mountain.

In the distance, far below, small dots lay spread along the thin ribbon of blacktop. Like the others, Jess reached into a backpack pouch and retrieved a small pair of binoculars. Looking through the lenses, he saw stopped cars and trucks spread along the Beeline Highway.

“Everybody's vehicles quit just like ours,” Jose said excitedly. “It's true.”

Dennis shot a stern look as if to say,
Don't scare the kids
.

“I see people. They're walking down the road,” Lynn said.

“I think we should head back to camp and get ready to hike home,” Dennis said.

Lynn hung her head and started walking. She sidled up to her father and bumped into him, announcing her presence. She put her hand in his. Dennis looked down at Lynn, pursed his lips and then smiled ever so slightly. His princess still needed her daddy. He let the smile fade and continued walking.

Back at the campsite, everyone gathered around the Gazetteer.

Studying the map, Dennis said, “We know how far it is to the Beeline Highway, and then it's thirty more miles or so to Fountain Hills. What about these buildings?” Dennis pointed at the map. “The ones here to the southeast, on the old Beeline, the part that was bypassed during the last road improvement. Aren't these houses in Sunflower?”

“There are some ranch families there along Sycamore Creek,” Jose said.

“They might have a working landline or at least know what is going on. I think we would be better off at a house than walking down the highway with so many others.”

The discussion continued until all agreed to walk to the houses in Sunflower—they were closer.

The large seventy-two-hour packs were unloaded from the SUV. Everyone combined the gear from their two packs. The Camelbak water bags, canteens and all empty plastic water bottles were filled from the cooler. The remaining water was drunk or used to douse the campfire. They shouldered their backpacks and adjusted the straps. This was it. They were officially in full emergency mode.

The “unauthorized” combat knife Jess had on the left shoulder strap of his pack caught Lynn's eye.

“Quick-draw knife, that's not allowed on missions,” Lynn said and then realized how silly she sounded.

Jess smirked back.

The team took one last look at the camp and started down the mountain. After a break-in period, the group stopped to adjust straps and check for hot spots where blisters might form on their feet.

“We started later than I would have liked,” Dennis said.

“Yeah, I know,” Jose replied.

“We can't hike much more than an hour or two because of this heat. We'll wait out the worst of it, then get a couple more hours of hiking in this evening. The terrain is too treacherous to hike at night. We're not going to make Sunflower tonight.”

No one looked pleased with this revelation.

“Look at that,” Dennis said suddenly, waving his arm in a grand sweep across the horizon. God in all his glory, don't you think?” No one replied.

****

The day's trek was rugged but uneventful, with no injuries. Hiking downhill was always hard in the Arizona desert, where pebbles and small rocks slid like marbles under your feet. The dust swirled up from the ground when feet made contact with it. The sun bore down.

“Let's make camp here,” Dennis said. “It's getting too dark to see the map well. A few more hours should get us into the village; we can make it before lunch tomorrow.”

“The moon is pretty bright, Dad. Don't you think we could make it in tonight?” Lynn asked.

“We don't dare take the chance. I can't even imagine carrying someone down this mountainside, can you?”

Lynn did not respond. She knew her father was right. They often did night searches during the summer to avoid the heat, but never on steep shale hillsides like this one.

“Do you think we can see lights or fires in Sunflower from here?” Jess asked.

“Not likely,” Jose responded. “We are still several ridges over.”

“Let's eat some dinner and call it a night,” Dennis said.

Camp was
very
uncomfortable. There wasn't a single place a body could stretch out and every bivvy, or one-man tent, was positioned at some sort of angle with feet pointing downhill. They didn't keep a fire going, but prepped some tinder and kindling, just in case. There was very little hope of attracting attention now; it was almost thirty-six hours post-event without seeing a plane.

****

Mid-morning. the group found themselves turning south at the base of the mountain. They were leaving the parched, rocky hillsides, covered in nothing but sand, gravel, cactus and scrubby trees, to enter a rare oasis in the desert along Sycamore Creek.

“Wow, flat ground again,” Lynn said.

“Over there,” Jess said, pointing. “It's water in the creek, I can hear it!”

The whole group moved quickly toward the stream bed. White-barked sycamore trees towered overhead, providing shade, and huge boulders lay strewn around like a giant's playthings. Everyone jettisoned their packs and took off their boots. Toes were dipped in the cool water. The stream was only nine or ten inches across here, but it was big enough even for Jess to get his feet in.

“Why didn't we ever camp here?” Lynn asked Dennis. “It's beautiful.”

“We didn't camp here before the freeway was improved in 2005 because this little canyon was teeming with people from the city on weekends. We didn't camp here after the freeway bypassed this stretch of road because the Forest Service blocked the road with a berm and a fence just north of the houses in Sunflower. They don't want people back in here anymore.”

After fifteen minutes or so Jose said, “I think we should get moving. We don't know what the rest of the day will bring.”

“I'm afraid you're right, my friend. Get your shoes on, kids.”

A collective
harrumph
could be heard. Jess began drying his feet with a camp towel from his backpack, but Lynn sat swishing her feet in the water as if she hadn't heard her father.

“Young lady,” Dennis said forcefully. “I don't like repeating myself.”

Lynn dared not feign ignorance, as she was sitting not five feet from her father. She put on her boots.

The team followed the dirt trail paralleling Sycamore Creek. After about a half hour, the team could see the huge Beeline Highway Bridge over the canyon in the distance. This section of highway was at least six or seven miles farther east than the section they were looking at yesterday from the mountain top. As they climbed out of the ravine, they emerged onto old, cracked blacktop.

Jess saw first a mailbox and then a house a short distance off the road. “Look, we've made it!”

“Yes,” Dennis replied, “but made it to where?”

Chapter 3

Kelly woke in her bed. She lived in a historic area in North Mesa called Lehi that bordered both the big city and the rural Indian reservation. It still retained its horsey past; horse fencing crisscrossed nearly every yard, and “horsekind” abounded.

She heard nickering from her living room. Her mind wandered in and out of wakefulness, limbs still heavy with fatigue. The earthy smell of the corral drifted into her nose. Kelly loved her horses, Hokey and Pokey. Wait—they were
in the living room
of her tiny house.

There it was again—the sound of a horse. Startled awake, her mind cleared and everything came back to her. The hospital had burned down with all those they couldn't get out still in it. The bedraggled nurse had picked her way home through the neighborhoods in a state of exhaustion, hunger and delirium. She avoided the looters she saw in strip malls and convenience stores. Ash fell from the sky. Neighborhoods had banded together into armed groups to protect their families and homes. They allowed her to pass through only after interrogation.

Kelly had stumbled into her barn in the wee hours of morning, gathered her horses and their tack, and proceeded into the house. Fears raged in her head that they might be stolen during the night or be spooked and run off because of the smoke. She filled a couple of bowls, pitchers, and some large plastic tubs with the water remaining in her water heater, remembering that her bathtub drain leaked.

I can't believe it. Yesterday I needed to find love, settle down, have some kids, but today the world is turned upside down. My goal for today is to live 'til tomorrow. My head aches—probably dehydration,
the nurse in her thought.

She didn't have time to waste reliving events from last night. Survival was at hand. By now people must be realizing, as she had, that no help was coming from the government, and that everyone's lives were in danger. The stupid ones would still be out looting televisions and computers.

Kelly rose quickly and made her way to the kitchen. She unwrapped her arm wound and scrubbed it with dish soap and water.
Not too bad, fairly clean. It has to be redressed well if it's going to withstand the long trail ride today.

She walked to her desk in the living room and started a list of items needed to get her to her mom's house in Sunflower. Hokey walked up to her and nuzzled her neck.

“I hope you are ready for the trip, girl,” Kelly said. 

“It's going to be forty-five miles of hot pavement and scruffy desert for us today.” Kelly took Hokey's halter and pulled her nose around, staring into her horse's eyes. She often spoke to her horses as if they understood her every word.

Sunflower, where her mother lived, was an enclave of homes nestled in a canyon halfway between Phoenix, the metropolitan area that included Mesa, and Payson, ninety miles to the northeast. The horses could travel that distance in a day, but it would be a long, hard ride for them. If she had to travel off the main highway, it would be rough going and add to the distance. After reaching Fountain Hills, the rest of the trip to Sunflower would be rocky and mountainous. That would give her thirty-five miles of washes, brush and cactus to pick her way through. Water would be another issue. Kelly could think of only two sources of water between here and there. Her horses were lucky that it was September and not July, but a night's camp might still be in order.