Last Stand: Surviving America's Collapse (3 page)

T
he further he drove, the clearer it became that the outage wasn’t limited to Sequoyah Hills. Small handfuls of stunned motorists stood along the roadside, many of them watching his Blazer rumble past as though it were a UFO. A few even chased after him, waving their hands in the air. The lost expressions on their faces reminded him of news footage from Haiti after the earthquake in 2010. Except here and now, instead of death, there was only shock. But that would change soon enough.

He
reached Cedar Bluff and turned onto Eagle Brook. A minute later, he arrived at a typical suburban neighborhood, perfect for a young family. The house Diane had come to show was on the corner; red brick, yellow garage. Two cars were in the driveway and one of them was hers. Groups of neighbors were huddled outside talking to one another, many of them eyeing John as he drove in. He stopped and slid the S&W inside his front waistband. This time he wanted people to see he was armed since it might help deter them from doing anything silly.

He locked the truck and made his way to the house. The hope was that Diane was waiting with her client inside, but as he drew nearer, John’s heart sank. The door was
slightly ajar. That meant they’d probably exited at some point after the lights went out. He stopped next to Diane’s Ford Focus and tried the handle. It opened. Had she come out to leave and found that her car wouldn’t start? Just in case, John drew his pistol and poked his head inside the house.

“Diane?”

The house was empty and the deep timbre in John’s voice made an eerie echo. He let himself in, wiping his shoes on the doormat purely out of habit. John made a quick search of the house. There was no reason to head into the basement, since the lights weren’t working and they wouldn’t be able to see down there. It was time to look elsewhere.

As he e
xited the house, three men were standing near Betsy. They were talking to one another, pointing at the hood and the engine underneath. It was clear enough to John that they were wondering how his Blazer was still working when the other cars in the neighborhood were dead as a doornail. He just hoped for their sake that the men weren’t hatching some foolish plan to take it from him.

They turned when they saw John approach.

“I’m looking for my wife,” he told them before they had a chance to say anything. “She’s five five, long dark hair, wearing a black skirt and a white blouse.” The real estate sign on the lawn had Diane’s picture on it. He pointed. “Any of you see her around this morning?”

One of them nodded. “Yeah, I saw her. She was with a man and a woman. They started walking up the road
not long ago. Don’t know where they were headed.”

“Thank you
,” John said gratefully. “You three strike me as family men.”

“We are,” one of them in dress pants and a white shirt
replied. “I was leaving for work when everything just shut down.”

“
Everything with a computer chip, that is. All you need to do is look around to see the proof of what I’m saying. I suggest each of you grab a wheelbarrow and head to the local market for supplies. Best to do it now before everything’s gone. If any of you have an older car, say something built before 1980 and preferably with a diesel engine, it may still run.”

“Doesn’t
Gary Henderson have that old MGB?”

“Yeah, he’s got a couple old cars.”

“Maybe you men can work something out with Gary. Barter for the use of one of his cars. Gold might work or offer a skill if you have one.”

“Seems a bit premature for all of that, doesn’t
it?” the man in the suit said. He was probably some sort of lawyer or office worker. A skillset which would be useless in the coming months. “I mean, we’ll all feel a little foolish when they get things running again.”

“When
who
gets things running again?” John asked. He didn’t have time to chitchat, but he was working to accomplish two goals. First, divert the men’s focus from his truck to some other means of transport and second, offer them advice that might just save their lives. They didn’t seem dangerous, but desperate people didn’t always think straight. “Feel free to keep waiting,” John said, “but whatever’s going on has affected the entire city, maybe even the whole country. Please don’t take this personally, but I’m gonna ask that you three gentlemen back away a few paces while I get in my truck.”

They looked at him with confusion.

John dropped his hand to the pistol grip sticking out of his pants.

The men backed away. He got into Betsy and before closing the door said
, “Thank you very much, gentlemen. God bless and good luck.”

They nodded, still not entirely sure what
had just happened.

John started the engine and left
. He didn’t get further than a few houses before he saw Diane talking with a group of people. They watched him approach and sudden recognition lit her eyes when she realized that it was him. She came at once, carrying her high heels as she walked across the lawn. John leaned over and unlocked the door so she could get in.

“Oh
, honey, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” She leaned over and hugged him tight.

He was putting the truck in gear when she said
, “Hold on. I can’t just leave the Shaws.”

“Who are the Shaws?”

“The young couple I was showing the house to.”

“Diane, I’d like to help them, but we don’t have time. We’ve got to get Gregory and
Emma from school and then hit the grocery store before they’re cleaned out.”

“You think it’s that serious?” The
rising fear in her face was starting to show for the first time.

“If you only knew.”

Diane glanced out the window at the Shaws and he knew her heart was heavy. She was a good Christian woman, always eager and willing to help anyone in need, but in a situation like this, chauffeuring people around Knoxville was only going to endanger her family. It was a dilemma John had already faced a half-dozen times since taking Betsy out of the garage. Sure, it would have been nice to help as many stranded motorists as he could. But then what would happen when things got too dangerous to risk leaving the city? The shock that had stunned and perhaps tranquilized most of the population into temporary docility wasn’t going to last much longer.

They left Cedar Bluff
and headed to pick up the kids at West High School. With so many high-school kids running around it was going to be difficult to find Emma and Gregory, but the school’s emergency protocol was to send the kids to the football field in orderly groups. Hard to imagine any evacuation going off well without the principal being able to use the intercom.

John and Diane were
approaching Interstate 40 when his wife gasped. A second later he saw what she’d been looking at. Hundreds if not thousands of people up on the raised highway walking. They’d left their cars and had become a herd on a mass migration. At once it made John think of 9/11 and the thousands who’d fled Manhattan by foot across the Brooklyn Bridge.

Neither of them knew where the crowd was heading, but one of the off
-ramps led to Sequoyah Hills. Surely at least a small portion of the mass would divert in search of supplies and a way home.

“We’ve got to hurry,” John said, gripping the steering wheel and pushing the Blazer.

T
hey were driving south along Hollywood Road when they came to the accident. A pileup was probably a better way of putting it, since at least a dozen cars in both directions had collided once their engines had cut off. By now many of those involved had simply left their cars and walked away.

On
one side was a narrow sidewalk next to a short stone wall. On the other was a field, but there wasn’t enough room for the truck to pass by. The only other road that cut under the interstate wasn’t for miles and the highway was little more than a sea of pedestrians.

“We’ll need to go
back to the next turnoff,” Diane said, tapping the flat of her nails against the passenger window. She was deep in thought and likely feeling the same disappointment John was.

He nudged Betsy forward.

“John, you’re not thinking of—”

“We don’t have the luxury of going around
, Diane.”

She
tightened her grip around the overhead grab handle. “I don’t think it’s safe.”

Betsy’s tire clearance was such that John might be able to keep his right wheels on the sidewalk while his left rolled over the stalled car
blocking his path. Luckily it was a Corvette that had crashed into the opposite lane which meant the car’s low hood was facing Betsy’s front left tire.

“This is someone’s property
, John. You can’t just drive over it.”

“Honey, these cars aren’t much more than hunks of metal
now. Besides, if the insurance companies don’t go completely bust then he can get it repaired.”

Like nearly everyone else
’s, Diane’s thinking was still in line with a society that had ceased to exist the minute the power went out.

John pressed the accelerator and Betsy lurched as the front tire hit the Corvette’s bumper.

“I’m not sure about this, John.”

In the distance, John spotted a trickle of people in business suits mixed with truck driver types and folks in casual clothing. This was the first wave descending from the raised interstate. He would have to hurry before the trickle became a flood and they blocked the street altogether.

John backed up five meters and then accelerated to build up some speed. Betsy hit the Corvette and stopped, throwing John and Diane forward in their seats. Distance wasn’t what was needed. John brought Betsy right up to the Corvette’s bumper and then slowly pressed the pedal. There was a groaning sound as the truck climbed and then rose up at a thirty-degree angle. Gravity kept Diane pinned to the passenger door.

“Hold on
, honey, we’re almost there.” But the worst was about to come. The Blazer had to make it over the Corvette’s roof. Now he really pushed Betsy forward, steering back and forth to keep the truck from tipping over. A moment later they were over and Betsy’s back wheel touched pavement, rattling them both.

Diane gave him a nervous grin. “John, tell me you’ll never do that again.”

“I promise,” he replied, squeezing her hand. It was true that he’d taken a chance, but a calculated one.

Up ahead
was the stream of refugees from the interstate. John honked as he slowed down to cut through them. A few threw their hands in the air, as if to say, ‘What about us?’ John simply laid on the horn and inched forward. He’d seen similar crowds after football and hockey games let out in big cities. It didn’t matter if the light was red, pedestrians would surge across the street anyway. These people were on their way home as well, but the main difference was they were getting there on foot. And judging by the looks on their faces, home was the only thing they cared about. The fear hadn’t quite materialized just yet. For some it was an adventure. For others, simply an annoyance. Once they realized the nightmare was real and they weren’t going to wake up from it, the real fear would settle in.

As
John and Diane reached Tobler Lane, they saw West High School and the throngs of school kids out on the football field. Many of them were sitting in small groups. A few had wandered off to congregate away from the masses only to be chased down by the teachers, eager to maintain control.

John turned the wheel, avoiding a stalled car and bringing Betsy up onto school property. They were about to make one hell of an entrance, but following school policy wasn’t at the top of John’s list. He needed to get his kids and bring them to safety.

He drove right up to the football goal post and stopped. The S&W was still tucked into his waistband, but now he pulled his shirt down to block it from view. There was little to no chance he’d need it here. It just didn’t make sense to head into a potentially dangerous situation without it. Diane came with him, locking the truck behind them.

The school
principal Pamela Walters was already coming their way, holding a megaphone and waving at Betsy with her free hand. “I’m sorry, Mr. Mack, but you’re gonna need to move your truck.”

“
I will, as soon as I get my son and daughter,” John explained.

Mrs. Walters
glanced at the crowd of kids behind her and made an expression that said, ‘Good luck finding them in all this.’ Children were already starting to come forward.

“I believe that something terrible has happened,” he told
Mrs. Walters. “There’s a good chance this wasn’t some freak accident.”

“What do you mean?” she
asked, dropping her chin slightly to get a better look at him over her spectacles.

“Everything electronic has stopped working. Cars,
cell phones, computers. There may very well be a natural explanation, but no matter what the effects are going to devastate the country. A stampede like you’ve never seen before is descending from the off-ramp of Interstate 40. People who are confused and looking for a quick way home.”

“How do you know this?”

“There’s no other reasonable explanation. These kids are better off at home with their parents.”

“We’ve already had a few come by on foot to get kids, but keeping track of them all is becoming difficult.”

“Well, let me take Emma and Gregory off your hands. Having to worry about two less will surely help.”

Mrs. Walters nodded. “I won’t pretend to know where they are. The kids are supposed to be organized by class during an evacuation, but clearly that directive wasn’t followed.”

Diane approached a group of girls who were about Emma’s age and asked them if they knew where she was. John did the same thing to a group of boys, asking about Gregory.

John made his way through
the throngs of students, who pointed to the stands, which were full of kids. Mrs. Walters followed them.

Once they arrived, Mrs. Walters raised her megaphone and called out for Gregory and
Emma. She called out a second time before a boy stood up and began making his way down. It was Gregory, but there wasn’t any sign of Emma.

“Can you try again
?” Diane asked.

“She’s over there,” a girl with long dark hair said
, pointing.

They all
turned in the direction she had indicated. Over by the opposite goal line, two figures sat cross-legged on the grass. They were kissing.

John
’s heart skipped a beat.

“Gregory, run and get your sister at once,” Diane said.

He did as he was told. Emma looked over and rose to her feet. So too did the young man she was with. All three of them headed over.

“Hand me that for a second
, please,” John said, pointing to Mrs. Walter’s megaphone. She handed it over. “Young lady, I suggest you double-time it.”

Reluctantly,
Emma broke into a jog, along with the boy she’d been kissing minutes before. Soon, they arrived, Emma looking mortified. John hadn’t intended to humiliate her in front of the entire school. The young man Emma had been kissing was thin and pink-cheeked with dark hair and fine features. John recognized him as a boy from their neighborhood.

“Does your friend have a name?” John asked.

Diane nudged him.

“I think we have a right to know,” he told her in response.

“Brandon, Mr. Mack,” the boy said, smiling weakly. “I live on the corner of Willow Creek and Pine Grove. You know my parents.”

John nodded
. “I met them at last year’s block party.” He could see the pulse in Brandon’s neck and knew it wasn’t from the jog. The kid was expecting to get a tongue-lashing. But right now, John had neither the time nor the inclination.