Dawn's Light (12 page)

Craig took it and breathed in the scent. “Wow, this is great. Just what I need. I miss Starbucks.”

“Yeah, me too. So what have you got in that bag?”

Craig took a seat at the table and set the bag in another chair. “Plans and schematics and pages of documents I've been reviewing about the power substations, the refineries, and the strategic petroleum reserves. That kind of thing.”

Doug was fascinated. “I can't even imagine overseeing something like that. I'd be completely overwhelmed.”

“I am, a little,” Craig admitted. “But we're taking things a step at a time. The first job was to find a place to set up our offices. Saturday one of my team members found and rented the building that Champland Insurance used to have.”

“I know that building. Over by the conversion plant?”

“That's right. Since we'll be working closely with the plant, it was convenient. We got it complete with all their office furniture.”

“So I guess Champland Insurance won't be bouncing back.”

“Not anytime soon. The insurance industry bottomed out after the Pulses started.”

“So where are you going to start with the recovery?”

Craig sipped his coffee. “Actually, the recovery effort has been going on since the Pulses began. Several U.S. departments have been working together with the White House to do as much advance rebuilding as possible.”

Doug heard his bedroom door, off the kitchen, open. Kay came out in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and padded barefoot into the room. “Morning. You guys want some eggs?”

“Sounds good,” Doug said. “Craig was just telling me about the recovery. That the work started at the beginning of the Pulses.”

That got Kay's attention. “So they're all ready to get the power turned back on?”

“Well, not exactly,” Craig said. “After the Pulses ended, Congress called an emergency session to implement funding for the recovery teams and approve plans for rebuilding. Once that was done, the recovery teams started work on getting the power trucks running, so they'd be ready to move when we were ready.”

“What about fuel tanker trucks?” Doug asked. “You can't run the power trucks if you can't transport fuel.”

“Exactly. They've been converting the fuel tanker trucks. Our goal is to get fuel in here so we can black start some of the power generators.”

Kay cracked some eggs into a bowl and stirred them up. “What is black starting?”

“Good question,” Craig said. “Frankly, I'd never heard the term before a year ago.”

“I know what it is,” Doug said, glancing at Kay. “Years ago, people who'd studied electromagnetic pulses recommended that changes be made within the power industry, so that in the event of a nuclear bomb in our upper atmosphere or an E-bomb that caused an electromagnetic pulse, there would be a way to generate electricity. Who would have predicted that we'd have millions of EMPs and that it wouldn't be man-made? That it would have come from a star?”

“No one. But fortunately, the power companies did listen to the recommendations, and they divided their power grids into islands, so that if one area went down, the others could keep going.” Craig took a roll of paper out of his bag and unrolled it on the table. “Here are the ones in this area.”

Doug leaned forward, studying the map.

“Each one provided electricity for local load areas,” Craig went on. “Black starting those islands meant using small generators to jump-start larger generators. Those could then start the main power station generators.”

Doug nodded. “And the generators that will black start them require a lot of fuel.”

“Yes,” Craig said. He was clearly in his element, and Doug couldn't help being impressed at his knowledge and passion for his task.

Kay stopped stirring and came to the table.

“The problem was that it isn't just electricity that has to be restored,” Craig said. “Every silicon chip within those stations has been destroyed. So before we can even get the system black started, we have to do some significant rebuilding of the control circuits within the stations themselves.”

Kay looked crestfallen. “That could take forever.”

Craig smiled. “Not quite. But it's an overwhelming job for all of us leading the recovery. It's the first time in the history of the country that the government has been forced to deal with disaster in every county of every state simultaneously. It's not as if people from the north can rush down and help the ones in the south, like they often do after a disaster. And no other countries are any better off. Everyone is struggling. The only ones who aren't are the ones who don't depend on electricity. The Amish, for instance. They were all set up for something like this.”

“I used to think they were crazy,” Kay said. “But now I think they're brilliant. They didn't miss a beat after this disaster, did they?”

“Nope. They went right along with all they were doing. And they became the experts that society looked to to learn how to do things. Up in Pennsylvania, they actually began doing workshops to teach people how to live. They've been a big help to people in that area.”

“So how are you going to get fuel to black start those stations?” Kay asked. “Is it even possible?”

“Yes, we have strategic petroleum reserves that have almost a billion barrels of crude oil stored. The mechanical pumps to get it through the pipelines have been rebuilt, so they're ready to go. But first, we have to get the refineries back online.”

“Oh, my word,” Kay said. “There are so many steps. I'd go crazy if I were you.”

“Yeah, it's tough. I'm more of an instant gratification guy. It's going to take truckloads of patience to work my way through this. But we'll do it one step at a time.”

She set down the bowl of eggs. “And you're in charge of all this?”

“Not completely. We have teams in every region, with state directors. I'm one of a handful of people in charge of the central Alabama region. It's a real team effort. We have to get the power to the refineries so they can refine the crude oil. Alabama's resources will first go toward powering the refineries in Saraland, Mobile, Atmore, and Tuscaloosa. Saraland has the largest capacity. They produced 80,000 barrels a day before the Pulses. They'll be first to get their power on.”

Doug looked up at Kay. “So that means we'll have to wait a lot longer.”

“Maybe not too much longer,” Craig said. “But there are a lot of unknowns right now.”

Doug smirked and winked at Kay. “Want to move to Saraland?”

“I also have to hire people to recruit and hire all the workers, assign them to areas where their experience and expertise can be used, and coordinate the labor. So tell everyone you know that we're hiring. We'll set up tables at the next FEMA disbursement in a couple weeks to hire people. But we'll be starting to hire even today. We'll make sure it's in the papers, so word should get around quickly.”

Kay got the eggs and started for the door to cook them on the grill. “Trust me, word will spread like wildfire. This is America. People will want to help.”

“The power companies will be hiring back all their employees, so those already trained will be higher up in the hierarchy, and the newcomers will work under them. It's funny. The blue-collar workers are the most valuable people around right now. White-collar folks are pretty much useless.”

“Tell me about it,” Doug said. “Not a real high demand for stockbrokers these days.”

“What about the mechanics and engineers you've already drafted?” Kay asked.

“They'll be at the forefront of the recovery. Especially the engineers and electricians. We'll leave the mechanics in the conversion plants to keep converting vehicles that we can use. We'll add to that carpenters and construction workers, architects, communications workers, computer techs, and a whole host of occupations that will help us recover. Even if the applicants are not experienced, there are things they can do to help with the effort. We're also getting the National Guard units involved. We're fighting a war here, but this time it's not against people.” He finished his coffee and gave Doug a look. “You could come to work for us, Doug. You too, Kay.”

Doug leaned back in his chair. “I'm pretty busy with the sheriff's department, not to mention preaching.”

“But are you getting paid?”

He got nothing for preaching, since he diverted his congregants' tithes toward helping the people around them. And the sheriff's department had put him on the payroll, but often the payroll wasn't met. “Not regularly. But they need people to enforce the law. Somebody has to do it.”

“We'll be paying a dollar an hour for the average workers, a little more for the more experienced ones. It's not much, but in our economy, that'll go a long way. It'll infuse money back into the infrastructure and get more cash flowing.”

Doug had to admit that it sounded good. Forty dollars a week
would
go a long way. And if Kay and Deni did it too, that would be 480 dollars a month. A year before, that would have been laughable. But today it was a fortune.

Still, he had made a commitment to the sheriff's department. Paycheck or not, he had to do it.

Kay sat down at the table, full of questions about what kind of job she could get. While Craig tantalized her about a position in the offices, Doug took the eggs out and began to cook them on the grill.

What would it be like if Kay took a job there? What would happen to Logan and Beth? He didn't like the idea of Jeff being left unsupervised all the time, even at sixteen. Beth and Logan definitely needed someone at home. But if she wanted to do it, he supposed they could work it out.

Though he hated what the Pulses had done to society, he had to admit that he loved what they had done to the family. The lack of technology had drawn them all closer. Instead of leading separate lives, watching television in their bedrooms, playing video games and staring at computer screens, they gathered each night in the same room. Communication in the form of telephones and email were dead. But it felt as if communication in his family had blossomed to life. It was moving to see the kids working hard at their own jobs and giving their pay to the family. A year ago, the idea of helping support their family would have been laughable.

And his relationship with Kay was closer than ever. They'd never enjoyed each other so much. Laughter and conversation had become as easy as breathing. He dreaded the distance his job would create when the power was restored.

The restoration effort was important, yes. But the restoration of his family had been an unexpected blessing. He didn't want to upset that balance and closeness they'd found. He'd have to pray about what to do. He hoped Kay would pray, as well.

He glanced back through the window. Craig was in deep conversation with Kay. Craig would need an awful lot of prayer as he helped lead this effort. No wonder he hadn't had time to think about a place to live. Maybe providing him a place to sleep wasn't such a bad thing, after all. It was something they could do for the recovery effort.

He decided not to broach the subject of moving out. Maybe he should give him a few more days.

twenty-seven

D
ENI GOT HOME FROM THE NEWSPAPER AFTER DARK AND
saw Craig's Malibu parked in the driveway. Next to it sat Mark's bicycle, chained to the lantern on the front lawn. What were Mark and Craig doing here together? This had to be awkward.

She opened the garage, pulled her bike in, and stepped into the kitchen. Her mother was buzzing around preparing for dinner. “Mom, what's going on?”

Kay chuckled. “Just our latest mini-drama. The ongoing saga of your love life.”

She didn't appreciate her mother's humor. “Are they
together
?”

Kay pounded her bread dough with her fist. “Yeah, Mark came a few minutes ago. I told him you weren't home, and he said he didn't come to see you. He wanted to talk to Craig.”

“And you said
yes
?”

Kay rolled her eyes. “Deni, we're talking about two grown men. They didn't need my permission. It's not my job to keep them apart. Besides, you think Mark's going to attack him or something? That's not his style.”

Deni looked into the living room. “Where are they?”

“Upstairs.”

Her heart sank. She turned back to her mom. “Did Mark look angry?”

“Not really. He was actually very pleasant. If you're worried about it, go up and see what they're talking about.”

“What do
you
think they're talking about?” she whispered harshly.

Kay shrugged. “Maybe they're flipping a coin.”

Deni caught her breath. “Mom!”

Kay abandoned her bread and came closer. “Deni, it's not up to them; it's up to you. You know who you want. And if it's Mark, you need to encourage Craig to get his own place.”

“So what do you want me to do?” she whispered. “Pack his bags for him? I've been busy all day. I haven't had time to find him a place to live.”

“You've been in love with Mark all these months, honey. You've been happier than I've ever seen you.”

“And nothing's changed.”

“Well, it will if Craig has anything to say about it.”

“He doesn't. But I don't think Mark should badger him. What's he gonna do? Try to convince him to live in his dad's burned-out house?”

Kay smirked. “Maybe he'll invite him to stay with him.”

“Yeah, that'll be the day.” Deni went through the living room and looked up the staircase, trying to listen. She heard nothing—no yelling or crashing. Slowly, quietly, she went upstairs.

She saw Beth in her pink bedroom, lying on the bed, curled up with her knees to her chest. She glanced into her own room, and there were Mark and Craig, standing and talking in quiet voices, tense, like wolves about to tear into each other.

Neither had seen her, so she slipped into Beth's room, and stood at the door, listening.

“What are you doing?” Beth asked, sitting up.

Deni glanced back at her. “Shh. Mark and Craig are in my room,” she whispered. “I want to hear what they're saying.”

Beth pulled her feet under her. “Deni, what did you work on today?”

She waved her hand at Beth to silence her. She could hear Craig's voice, calm and low.