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Authors: Steven Konkoly

Tags: #Fiction, #Dystopian

The Perseid Collapse (14 page)

BOOK: The Perseid Collapse
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“Thermal scope? You’re crazy. You know that, right?”

“Doesn’t sound so crazy now, does it?” said Charlie.

“Unfortunately, it doesn’t. By the way, I think you’re about five decades behind with your camouflage choice. I haven’t seen anyone wear tiger-stripe cammies since—”

“John Wayne.
Green Berets.
The guy was a legend. I watched that movie with my dad when I was nine years old. We watched it every year since. This was the first and only pair of camouflage I’ve ever used hunting. Well, I’ve made some modifications over the years, and replaced the trousers, but you get the picture.”

“John Wayne.” Alex laughed. “He also played Davy Crocket in
The
Alamo
, which means you should be wearing that squirrel cover of yours too.”

“He wore a coonskin cap, and his had the raccoon face in front. I have a collector’s edition in my office, but it’s in a glass case. You’re talking about this one,” said Charlie, pulling his famed coonskin cap out of his right cargo pocket.

“Damn, that thing’s ugly. Looks like it’s seen better years,” said Alex, exaggerating a look of dismay.

“Never missed a shot wearing this baby. You know that better than anyone,” he said, proudly donning the cap and creating the most ridiculous-looking outfit Alex had ever seen.

“That I do. See you in a few.”

Alex saluted Charlie and picked up Kate’s backpack, turning toward the southern side of the Durham Road loop. Kate and the kids had already disappeared behind the Bradys’ house, which made him slightly nervous. He wasn’t sure why, but Charlie had made a solid point. Without any information, they truly had no idea what they were up against. While Charlie’s theories about a Chinese invasion force were too farfetched for Alex’s vivid imagination, nobody could deny that they were on the receiving end of a massive, wide-scale “event.” Man made or natural, he didn’t think it mattered. The result would be the same.

Chaos.

 

Chapter 15

EVENT +08:45 Hours

Scarborough, Maine

The mud wasn’t as deep immediately in front of Alex’s house, most likely because the house had deflected the initial surge and created a buffer. He stepped between two pine bushes that defiantly protruded from the muck and landed on what he knew logically was the slate walkway connecting the front door to the driveway. He could hear activity in the house, and hoped that Kate would open one of the doors for him. He didn’t feel like dragging her pack through the backyard.

The act of finally arriving at their destination had suddenly deprived him of energy, as if his mind had involuntarily dampened his sympathetic nervous system, reducing production of the hormones responsible for his fight-or-flight response to the day’s event. It didn’t surprise him, considering that he’d been engaged in this mode since five in the morning. There would be no break in his immediate future. Right now, he needed to make an assessment of their situation, starting with their Chevy Tahoe.

He saw Kate’s face appear in the mudroom door window and headed for the granite stoop. He had a bad feeling that the word “mudroom” was about to take on a whole new meaning. She cracked the door a few inches, allowing a thick stream of water to pour through the opening onto their porch before pulling it the rest of the way. He glanced at the bottoms of the double garage doors and saw a thin stream of water leaking from the far left bay. Shit. His garage had filled too. So much for their bug-out vehicle.

Kate appeared with a tired look. “I’m estimating that to be about a foot and a half. The family room’s the same. The rest of the floors are covered in about six inches of this wonderful shit slime. Be careful once you’re inside. It all looks the same depth.”

“Have you checked the basement?”

“I came right here to let you in. We had to climb over what’s left of the deck,” said Kate.

Alex handed over her backpack, and she hung it on one of the empty coat hooks while his eyes adjusted to the shadowy interior of their house. The first thing he noticed was the high-water stain on the drywall, less than an inch from the ceiling. That couldn’t be right. He scanned the entire mudroom and saw the same line just below the ceiling. He nearly tripped over one of their kitchen island stools examining the roof. He heard the water pipes running in the house and looked through the doorway to the kitchen.

“The kids are filling up the bathtubs,” she responded.

“Good. At least the water still works—what are the chances that the Tahoe still runs?”

“Give it a shot,” Kate said. “If it works, we’ll have half a chance to get Ryan.”

“I’ll get him back no matter what,” Alex said, stepping over to the door.

“I know. I know. I just…looking around here, I’m not hopeful about his chances if this thing hit closer to Boston.”

Alex stepped away from the garage door and held her tight, nestling his head next to her ear and kissing her neck.

“He’ll be fine. I’ll start walking tonight if I have to. This is nothing. A minor bump in the road. In three days, we’ll be eating at a picnic table with my parents in Limerick,” he whispered.

“Not if you’re walking,” said Kate.

“Ten days. Let’s check the Tahoe and see what we’re dealing with.”

Alex opened the door to the garage and was greeted by a foot of mud, which reached the bottom of the truck’s doors. Silt and small debris covered the black Tahoe from top to bottom. The deluge of water, which at one point had risen above the Tahoe, had upended the garage. A red plastic gas can sat on the SUV’s roof, while the rest of the garage’s tools and sporting goods equipment was nowhere to be seen, presumably under the water. He pressed the key fob to unlock the SUV and was rewarded by the familiar chirping sound. He pressed it again and heard the door mechanisms activate.

“Good news, honey,” he said, hopeful for the first time since waking up this morning.

He jumped into the mud and splashed across the empty bay to reach the SUV, tripping on something submerged below the surface. Quickly regaining his balance, he yanked the door open, which released a small quantity of foamy water into the muck below.

“That’s not a good sign,” she said.

He pocketed the key fob and hopped into the truck, pressing the keyless ignition button. The batteries turned the engine over, and for a few glorious moments, he thought the Tahoe might start. He should have known better. The 2018 Tahoe hybrid was one of the most technologically advanced heavy SUVs on the market. The commercials likened it to a fly-by-wire aircraft, where every aspect of its performance was monitored and controlled by multiple onboard computers. It was one of the safest, most fuel-efficient vehicles of its kind thanks to cutting-edge technology. Now this revolutionary beast was simply in the way of the bicycles hanging on the far side of the garage. He looked at Kate and smiled.

“I always wanted to mountain bike all the way to Boston on the Eastern Trail.”

Kate stifled a laugh, shaking her head. “I’m just trying to picture Charlie on a hundred-mile bike ride.” She chuckled.

Alex hopped into the water and walked to the garage door in the empty bay.

“I remember him doing that trek across Maine thing a few years ago,” said Alex, pulling on the red garage door manual release toggle above his head.

“Uh—I’m pretty sure he rode an ambulance most of the way back,” said Kate.

Alex pulled the door upward, releasing a flood of sludge down the driveway. He lifted the door all the way and was startled to see Ed standing a few feet away, holding two coffee mugs.

“This is what I get for bringing over fresh coffee?” he said, staring down at his dirtied shoes.

“Is that really coffee?” said Kate, her caffeine instincts savagely activated.

“French roast. Had just enough to make two cups,” he said, extending the mugs.

Alex and Kate accepted the mugs and carefully sipped the steaming hot liquid. Alex felt the caffeine immediately, which provided a needed boost to counteract his mental fatigue.

“You’re a life saver, Ed,” he said, shaking his hand and guiding him into the garage. “Come on in. I’d offer you a seat, but—”

“Our house got it the same. You should have seen it, man. Charlie was over when it hit. One minute I was trying to convince him that the Chinese hadn’t invaded, the next we were running for the staircase. The water flattened the fence behind us and slammed into the house a few seconds later. Filled the first floor to the ceiling within minutes—no shit. It was unbelievable.”

“We got lucky here. I’ve seen roofing tile and other debris that must have come from Higgins Beach,” said Alex.

“They found a sign for the Higgins Beach Lodge up at the top of the street. That used to be up on the third floor of the hotel. The beach has to be gone,” said Ed.

“How’s Samantha holding up?” said Kate, taking her lips away from the coffee for the first time.

“All right, given the Boston situation,” he said.

“I’m going to supervise the water hoarding and let the two of you plan the next move. Ed—you’re a lifesaver,” she said, holding up the mug of coffee. “I’d kiss you, but Alex might be mad that I stole his kiss.”

“Nice. Get a little caffeine in her and she’s ready for improv,” replied Alex.

After Kate disappeared into the house, Alex addressed the primary concern of both families.

“We have to get the kids, and it’s not going to be an easy trip. The families will go to my parents’ farm in Limerick, and we’ll head to Boston,” said Alex.

“Sam’s not taking this well at all. I didn’t want to say that in front of Kate, but she’s on the verge of a breakdown. We have no idea what’s happening out there. Nobody does,” said Ed.

“Chloe will be fine. She knows what to do in case of an emergency like this. Ryan and Chloe will link up at one of their places and wait for us. Five days is the plan,” said Alex.

“What if they don’t wait? This is something different altogether. The city will start falling apart by tonight,” said Ed.

“That’s why we aren’t going to waste any time getting down there. They’ll be there when we arrive,” said Alex.

“That’s what I told Sam. She wanted me to leave earlier this morning. Try to get both of them, but—man, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you. There was no way I could have pulled that off. Sorry, that sounded terrible. I’m just glad you guys made it back. I wasn’t hopeful, sailboat and all. You look like shit by the way. Almost as bad as John McClane at the end of a
Die Hard
movie.”

“It wasn’t good. I think we got lucky, to be honest,” Alex said, suddenly aware of the pain shooting down his right arm.

He switched the coffee mug from his right to left hand and tried to extend his arm into the air, barely able to get the upper arm a few degrees over the plane of his shoulder.

“I thought you got that fixed?” asked Ed.

“That was the other side,” he said, referring to the multiple surgeries required to restore full mobility to the shoulder destroyed by a marauder’s shotgun blast during the chaos of the Jakarta Pandemic.

“This is part of my new suite of injuries. I jammed my arm between the spokes on the steering wheel so—”

“On purpose?”

“It was the only way to keep the wheel from spinning out of control. We almost lost the boat,” Alex said.

He raised the sleeve on his T-shirt and saw that a baseball-sized area on his upper tricep had turned a sickening black-purple color that looked more urgent than simple bruising.

“You need to have someone look at that. I’m surprised you can use the arm at all,” said Ed.

“It’s fine. The more I use it the better.”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine until you wake up tomorrow and can’t move it at all. You need to at least put some ice on that and take some ibuprofen. Check your freezer. You should still have some ice.”

“All right. Give me a few—”

His sentence was interrupted by the sound of running footsteps. Charlie Thornton appeared, running full throttle up the driveway, waving a satellite phone in front of his face. Alex glanced at his rifle.

“The safety’s on, you fucking nervous nellies,” Charlie said peevishly.

“That wasn’t an hour. More like five minutes, Charlie,” said Alex.

“I know, but Samantha said Ed was over here. Take a look,” he said, waving the phone in Alex’s face. “Damn thing’s been quiet all morning, then whammo! Emergency broadcast! Just like they said it would work. Looks like all the money FEMA spent on this didn’t go to waste.”

“Can I see it?” asked Alex.

Charlie handed the phone to Alex, and they all huddled over the digital screen to read the broadcast.

“The Department of Homeland Security has declared a national state of emergency, effective immediately for the continental United States. The European Space Agency has confirmed that a large space-borne object entered Earth’s atmosphere at approximately 0455 EST and broke apart over the United States. Impacts have been registered from Virginia to Nova Scotia. Widespread power outages have been reported. Citizens are encouraged to remain at their residences and avoid travel until further notice.”

The information created just as many questions as it answered. If the tsunami was caused by an asteroid strike, what caused the EMP? Widespread power outages? No kidding. Why didn’t NASA confirm the strikes? Are they offline? Why mention Homeland Security instead of FEMA? He handed the phone back to Charlie.

“Well, at least we’re not dealing with a Chinese invasion,” said Charlie.

“Unless the Chinese sent that message,” said Ed.

“Ed,” Alex warned, “don’t screw with him like that. Please.”

“He’s right, though,” Charlie admitted. “None of this makes sense.”

“Why would you do that, Ed?” pleaded Alex.

“I love to sit back and watch the two of you argue about this stuff,” said Ed.

“Thanks. I think we’re fine, Charlie. There’s more to what they’re telling us, but the asteroid thing makes sense. A second burst of wind hit us from the east, which is the direction of Nova Scotia,” said Alex.

“I sure as shit hope so,” Charlie replied. “I don’t plan on letting them put me into a forced labor camp to make smart phones for the Europeans.”

BOOK: The Perseid Collapse
8.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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