Off The Grid (3 page)

“Well, yes. But there’s one other tiny little catch that I didn’t mention.” He put his hands on his head and pulled at his hair. “We have to – at least publicly – break up.”

“But we’re getting married!” She screamed at him. ”Next year!” 

“We’ll need to postpone it,” he said, looking away.

“You’ve got to be kidding. Unbelievable.”

“It’s the only way this makes any sense from the outside.”

“I don’t think this makes any sense to anyone,” she said, fuming. “And I’m just supposed to sit around and wait for you to come back someday?”

“I will be back. This will be a good thing for me. You understand, don’t you?”

“But is it a good thing for us?” Rachel asked.

“I promise you that when this is over, I won’t be leaving again. This is it.”

“When do you have to go?”

“I start next week.”

“I guess we’d better get to breaking up then,” she said. “I’ve got a few ideas about what our final fight should be about.”

Chapter 4

San Francisco, California

Luke’s 10 months at Millennium Optics was spent doing nothing but training for his time inside MassEnergy. There was little known about the inner workings of the company. Regardless, Lunsford had presented him with volumes of material that he said were worth a look. The old man had commandeered an empty office at the California facility and made it his personal mission to, “get your lazy ass into gear.” At least once a week Lunsford showed up in person to instruct Luke on some form of covert affairs.

“These people might not see you coming,” he said. “And they might not know what you’re doing, but if you slip up. Just once. You’re going to raise a flag that will shut you down for good. Then this is all a waste, and damn it, I hate to waste my time.”

Luke logged weeks with computer network techs learning about the architecture of active intranet systems and where they might be vulnerable so he could pull data from MassEnergy’s inner networks.

He’d also been given some toys to help his progress. These brief show-and-tell lectures and quizzes had become a weekly annoyance, with Lunsford droning on about how items lying around the office can, “save your bacon.”

Lunsford placed a black duffle bag on the desk and pulled out what looked like a typical mobile phone.

“I assume you know what this is.”

Luke blinked hard and squinted at the old man. “Um, yes, that’s a cell phone. It’s for making calls.”

“You’d think so, huh? Smart-ass. This isn’t just any phone. It’s a drop phone. I’m giving you a couple of them.

“And why would I need that?”

“To talk to me junior.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Lunsford reached into the bag again and handed Luke a copper-colored watch with a brown leather strap.

“Let me guess,” Luke said, “That’s for telling time, right?”

Lunsford took a deep breath.

“If you prefer to do this on your own, by all means, give it a shot. But you’re putting my name on the line here and as much as I think you’re going to mess it all up, I at least want to give you the benefit of knowing how to get the job done.”

“All right, sorry. What’s the watch for?” Luke asked.

“It’s for telling time,” Lunsford said, dryly. “But it will also transfer up to five terabytes of data onto an internal hard drive in seconds. Just set the dials to noon and press these two buttons on the side until the dial clicks.”

“How do I retrieve the data?”

“Place it on a USB data mat and it shows up like a hard drive connected to your computer. Did you know those mats were how Warren Evans first started to make some dough? He wanted to go wireless before anyone else did.”

“Except for Nikola Tesla, of course.”

“Who?”

“Never mind.”

He dumped a dozen identical watches on the desk.

“Just don’t mix them up. Or you’ll overwrite whatever you copied.”

Lunsford was old school. In the age when every street corner was fitted with a security camera, purchases were made by credit more than cash and tracking down someone was as simple as following their digital trail – he claimed it paid to buck the trends.

“You might have some nifty gadgets, but if you want to get around that place, you’re going to have to use a little of your own brain power too,” he said. “That means you should be the life of the party or the shy guy in the corner. Whatever the situation requires. Your real job is trying to figure out what exactly they need to trust you.”

Luke was instructed to never contact Lunsford except for pre-arranged days and times. If you miss an appointment, Lunsford told him, expect a visit. The look in his eyes said that the visit wouldn’t be a social one.

“If you obtain anything that you think would be valuable for
StuTech to have, leave the shades on the North wall of your apartment open for a full day. At 10:30 p.m. the following night, stick it in a plastic bag and drop it in the trash can near the playground at Mainfair Park.”

“Doesn’t leaving it out in the open like that mean that anyone can get it?”

“Yes and no. If you’re not a moron – and the jury is still out on that – you shouldn’t be suspected of doing anything, thus your trashcan drop offs would go under the radar. If someone does find it in the trash, then we have other ways to deal with that.”

Luke had
learned enough during his time with Lunsford that dealing with someone, in this case, probably meant following or snatching whoever was snooping around. Fortunately that was someone else’s department.

Chapter 5

Mill Creek, California

A few months into his training at Millennium Optics, Luke received a letter from his sister Gina, asking him to come home for a visit. She’d been asking for him to come see her in Mill Creek for the past few years. Each time he had some excuse as to why he couldn’t make it back to their hometown. She knew why he stayed away, but they never talked about it and it was better that way. No one but them could know the reason why.

Mill Creek was one of the first towns in California to go dark more than a decade earlier. The great wireless electricity revolution had forgotten this little corner of the world. So many more towns followed. The power just went out. No explanation. No plans for restoration. Half of the town knew the end was coming and already left when the plug was finally pulled.

Two days after the blackout, the car accident killed both their parents. Luke and his older sister Gina were left alone in Mill Creek, fending for themselves. He was ready
leave town right after the power was cut and even more so after the accident. But their deaths weren’t the reason he left.

Luke had watched the regional media to keep tabs on the town and regularly got handwritten letters from Gina. She had a fix on the town gossip and was always a great source of information. She always said there were rumors of power coming back to the town again, but he knew better. It just wasn’t in the cards. The rumors were the result of a hope that the town would someday have some life again.

The power company that served Mill Creek went belly up once StuTech took over its major population centers. The copper wires and transformers in the area were sold for scrap to pay off creditors. There was no infrastructure to turn back on. You couldn’t just flip a switch. The town was outside of the range of StuTech Towers and wasn’t able to receive wireless power. It was off the grid in every way possible.

Yet, somehow people stayed.

He decided the short weekend trip was inevitable. Luke filled a backpack full of a few days worth of clothes, energy bars and his tablet computer and set off for his past. Millennium Optics had a few electric motorcycles for employee use. He signed one out for the weekend with assurances it would be back, good as new on Monday.

The motorcycle was remarkably
quiet, except for the government-mandated whirring noise it made under 10 miles an hour. The era of thunderous Harley-Davidson’s with two-cycle gas engines, rattling the windows of nearby houses was long gone. The economical, lightweight machines were a favorite among commuters in big cities. With a range of more than 400 miles, the bikes could be used for days without the need for a charge.

Luke arrived in town at 9 a.m. on a Saturday morning, but it might as well have been Saturday morning 10 years earlier. Little had changed, at least not for the better. The main strip through town featured a memorial to depression-era loggers in the middle of a one-acre city park. The grass was dead and dusty. The windows of the shops fronting the street were all boarded up. The graffiti wrapped all the way down the alleyways behind the old business district. You could see through the burnt shells of several old buildings that had been gutted by fire.

Creasman’s Hardware on Main Street was the only store still in operation. The storefront was shaded by large solar arrays, propped up with two-by-fours, which provided intermittent solar power. Strung around the panels were reels of razor wire, daring anyone to touch the panels. The street was empty of all cars and Luke’s bike turned a few heads as he silently cruised by. The town didn’t get many outside visitors.

A makeshift farmers market was being held in the Christian Community Church parking lot. It had the feel of a country swap meet, but with a little more desperation. Patrons stuffed their carts with bags of soybeans, corn and oats. A man in overalls stood watch over a makeshift pen of chickens and a display of eggs. A 25-foot tall wooden wind turbine spun near the sidewalk, towering over the crates housing do-it-yourself wind turbine kits. The market was exactly as he remembered it, except much larger now.
Maybe dirtier too. They used to hold the farmers market in the Catholic church parking lot, which was about half the size.

Gina still lived in their parents’ house on the bluff overlooking the town. She always said it was the best house in the valley because from the front porch you could see the sun rise first thing in the morning and hold on to it all day until it set at night. Her love of the outdoors meant she wasn’t quite as affected by the blackout as others.

Luke rounded the last winding turn up to the house and pulled up the gravel driveway. He removed his helmet and set the kickstand, but didn’t budge from the bike.

It was like looking at a picture. The blue house paint was a little faded, but other than that, the place hadn’t changed. His memories of leaving so suddenly all those years ago flooded back to him like a dam bursting and he could feel his heart beating faster and faster in his chest. He didn’t want to think about what happened that night in the backyard. What he did to save Gina and then leaving her. He reached back for his helmet to leave. It was all too much. He didn’t want to remember.

“Hey you!” yelled a young, but sharp voice coming from behind the woodshed beside the house. “We don’t need what you’re selling. Go away, we don’t have anything you want anyway. Scram.”

The girl, thin as a rail, began coughing, a deep, heavy cough. She had long straight blonde hair and a freckled face. If he hadn’t known better, he would have said the little girl was his sister 25 years ago. No, it couldn’t be . . . could it?

Luke was unsure of what to do.

“Now leave your uncle alone, Tilly. He’s not selling anything,” Gina said, taking off a pair of gardening gloves and rubbing her palm on the young girl’s back to soothe her coughing fit. “You’re not selling anything are you brother?”

Luke had yet to move from the bike, but that didn’t stop Gina from walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I’m so glad you came. I wasn’t sure if you got the letters. I tried to call you in Seattle but the number was disconnected.”

“You have a phone?”

“That’s the first question you ask me?” staring at him with wide eyes, then glancing at Tilly. “No. No phone. Not here. Borrowed one in Sacramento though.”

“Is that where you got the kid too?”

“That’s the question I expected.”

“She’s not Elliot Costgrove’s-”

“God no. That half-wit never even got close.
Tilly’s mine and original to Mill Creek. Long story.”

“Good thing I plan to stay all weekend,” he said.

“All weekend? I’m sure we’ll have you scared off by sundown, no question.”

***

Inside the house Gina stepped on a foot pump connected to a hose that slowly released a mist of medicine into a facemask that seven-year-old Tilly wore. Tilly sat by the window and sucked in the medicine with her eyes closed.

“It’s an advanced stage lung disorder. As long as she gets her medicine a few times a day she feels all right. The doctors said it’s probably from the residual environmental particles throughout the valley. Our water filtration systems can be pretty rough on young ones, considering we haven’t had any filtration since the blackout. There are a few other children in the valley who have symptoms like Tilly. But she’s lucky. It hasn’t advanced as far as some of the others. But she doesn’t even have the breath to blow out the candles on her birthday cake each year.”

She handed Luke a charcoal drawing Tilly had made. It showed a young girl in front of a birthday cake. The candles were missing.

She turned away from Tilly and said in a low voice, “Two boys on Coffer Street passed earlier this year.”

“Is it that serious? What do the doctors say about her prospects?”

“We all get water from a community rain catch now, so she’s not exposed to the particles the broken water filtration systems miss. We hitch a ride to Sacramento every few months to get medicine and get her a check up. They really don’t know how long she can live like this. She coughs so hard some nights . . . Thankfully we’ve got the machine for her medicine.”

Gina, shifted in her seat and began pumping the medical device with her other foot. She had to nearly stand on the pump to get any medicine out.

“You need to move out of this place,” Luke said. “Living like Abraham Lincoln is a great ideal, but it just doesn’t make any sense. You’ve got a daughter now to think of.”

“You might have just met her, but I’ve known her for seven years and believe me, I’ve thought about moving, but this is our home. It’s what I know. This is a simple life and one that you should understand.”

“I understand it perfectly well. That’s why I left here 10 years ago and never looked back. If your daughter can’t get the medical care she needs, then its irresponsible for you to stay here.”

“Luke, there’s nothing more that can be done for her than what I’m already doing. It’s not easy, but she’s getting care.”

“But what happens when she needs something that’s more than a hitch hike away or costs more than what you can pay or trade for?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” she said. “This is the life I’ve chosen.”

But the fact was that no one in these towns had chosen to be cut off from the rest of the world. It happened
to
them. But they chose to stay in isolation, Luke thought. It was a barbaric existence that had taken more from him than most.

It took his parents, but also guided his future. If not for the blackout he would have never studied electrical engineering at Stanford. He was determined to get a job at
StuTech and it was the only way. It didn’t come easy at first, but after a few rough semesters, he began to understand how electricity worked. There were still a lot of unknowns in the field, but despite that, he got a certification in wireless networks. His certification was a joke, but the foundation was real and it kept him fixated on StuTech.

Gina never understood why he chose to work for
StuTech. Revenge never crossed her mind. She lived in her own little world. Luke was exasperated. The idyllic life, off the grid, meant no strings attached, but also no safety net.

“Is this why you asked me to come here?” Luke asked, his cheeks flushing red. “To remind me how horrible this place is? Mission accomplished.”

“You really are an asshole sometimes.”

Gina stopped pumping the machine and removed the mask from Tilly’s face. She had fall
en asleep as the medicine took effect. She motioned for Luke to follow her out back.

Every inch of the two acres of land just beyond the back screen door was covered with vegetation. Carrots, cabbage, peas, corn, soy plants, potatoes, but the largest section was filled with marijuana plants.

Gina saw Luke fixate on the cash crop.

“That’s how I can pay for her medicine and machines. I’m not proud of it, but it’s not hurting anyone – in fact it’s actually helping Tilly.”

“You don’t give her-“

“No, you boob. I mean the profits help her. Walter Perkins sells it behind the market every weekend. Folks use it to ease the pain of their ailments. It’s a lot easier than getting prescription drugs.”

She tossed him a pair of gloves and began thinning the carrots. Painfully familiar with the technique, he joined in.

“I sent you those letters because I wanted you to meet your niece before it was too late. Like I said, I have no idea how long she will hang on and I at least wanted her to know her uncle.”

“I’m sorry I got upset and I’m glad I came, but you know how I loathe this way of life and wish you’d come with me when I left and not just because of what happened that night. There was no reason for you to stay.”

“This is our home.
Our parents’ home. That was reason enough. Besides, you were the big shot college athlete, what were you planning on doing, hiding me in your dorm room?”

“You would have fit nicely in my closet,” Luke said with a smile. “It was rather roomy.”

“You needed to go. And besides, I had this house to take care of and now I have Tilly.”

The two worked in silence for a while, clearing weeds from the gardens. His back ached after only a few minutes.

“I haven’t done a lot of gardening lately,” he said. 

***

When the power first went out at Salk High School, Luke was in a 12
th
grade history class. The classroom he was in had no windows. The students were pitched into blackness. The teachers knew what had finally happened because it had been all over the news for the past six months. Their electricity provider, Intra Power had gone belly up and the federal government had failed to come to its aid. Residents didn’t have a choice to pay more for electricity – there was nobody to provide the distribution of power. When the lights went off, they didn’t come back on again.

One of Luke’s teachers said it best. “We’ve been studying ancient history all year. Today we’re part of making history. Things aren’t going to be the same anymore.”

The students were moved to the cafeteria filled with natural light and held until the school day ended. Traffic was heavy on the walk home. The roads were filled with moving vans and cars stuffed with family belongings. Several of Luke’s friends waved goodbye as they went past. Gina was then a full-time cashier at Creaseman’s Hardware. She met him on the walk halfway home.