Zero Hour: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction Series (The Blackout Series Book 2) (8 page)

Alex asked, “Does he drink
a lot
?”

Jimmy nodded his head as he looked down. “I don’t think my stepdad ever wanted to be a father. He liked my mom, and they got married. I was part of the package deal. His priorities are my mom, a full liquor cabinet, and his big gun collection. I don’t even think I rate in the top ten on the list.”

Wren was winding up the meeting. “Also, please check on your immediate neighbors. Make sure they’re safe. If they’re not home, make a note of their address and bring it with you to the next meeting. We’ll pay particular attention to their homes while they’re away.”

Alex looked up from the rock Jimmy was rolling around under his black Converse sneaker. She studied his clothes. Black, frayed shorts. An AC/DC tee shirt. Black hair and an earring. His appearance screamed rebellious teen.

Alex, like her father, was a Type A personality. If she weren’t a girl, she’d be an alpha male. She sensed weakness in Jimmy. His mentioning a big gun collection presented an opportunity for the Rymans. Apparently, Jimmy didn’t know the
loose lips sink ships
rule.

Chapter 12

DAY THREE

10:00 a.m., September 11

Ryman Residence

Belle Meade, Tennessee

“Mom, there are wildfires burning out of control all over the country,” said Alex as her mother walked into the living room. The Rymans were settling into their routine by the start of day three.

Like most families, their previous life was full of activities—work, school, and household chores. Entertainment in the form of television, music, and computer browsing would take up hours of a typical day. Without power, these regular pursuits no longer existed. Security was most important followed by information gathering.

“How’d you find that out?” asked Madison.

Alex wound the crank handle of the ETON FRX3 radio made to the specifications of the American Red Cross. The rechargeable weather alert radio with a solar panel and hand turbine power generator not only provided information, but it had a USB auxiliary input to charge other devices.

“The emergency alerts are being broadcast continuously now. The message from yesterday is still being repeated, but NOAA is also issuing warnings for specific areas of the country. The wildfires are everywhere because of the heat.”

When the power grid collapsed, cell phone service and normal broadcast networks crashed with it. However, the military had its own parallel intranet and secured closed satellite communications systems. The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, NOAA, and several other dedicated radio stations across the AM band operated within the same shielded wiring system as the military.

When the airwaves weren’t cluttered with cell phone calls and radio station broadcasts, a signal could travel much farther. By retuning the frequency calibration of a radio, it was possible to pick up ham radio operators near the AM frequencies.

“Here, grab a bucket,” said Madison. She and Alex walked outside to the pool, scooped up a five-gallon bucket of pool water and carried them into the bathrooms. Although the power outage prevented the toilets from refilling on their own, the tank lid could be removed and refilled manually, enabling the toilet to function.

“Can I go with Dad to the meeting again?” asked Alex.

“Sure,” replied Madison. “Is it because of the boy you met?”

“No, not really,” replied Alex. She had an idea but didn’t want to mention it to her parents yet. They’d probably overreact and make her stay home. “I don’t know. He’s younger than me and not at all cute.
Different
is a better word. It’s just nice to talk to someone else, do you know what I mean?”

They parted ways and refilled the tanks of the four bathroom home. Afterwards, they reconvened in the living room.

“I understand, dear,” said Madison, stacking the buckets for later use. She wiped the sweat off her brow. “It gets pretty boring around here. But I suppose that’s a good thing under the circumstances.”

Colton entered the room, dripping in sweat. “Do you think a dip in the pool is out of the question?”

“Duh, Dad,” replied Alex. “That’s our drinking water.”

“How about a shower?” asked Madison. “It’ll be cool, but we can easily make it hot.”

“All right, let’s see,” said Colton.

Madison led them to the back patio, where she had hung the five-gallon camp shower purchased the other day at the sporting goods store. Made of black PVC material, it was solar heated and portable. She had hung it from the roof overhang at the pool house.

Madison reached up and squeezed the bulb, allowing water to pour through a flexible hose. “Voila, now we can clean up here instead of the pool,” she announced. “Here’s a bucket to be used for soapy water, and you can always douse yourself with a five-gallon bucket for a final rinse.”

“I love it,” said Colton, who immediately stripped down to his shorts and poured water over his head. “I need to get cleaned up for the second showing of the HPA program featuring Wren and Company.”

“I’m going with you, Daddy,” said Alex.

“Great,” started Colton.

“What’s with all the sandbags?” asked Madison. Colton had retrieved them at dusk last night and spent the last hour moving them upstairs.

“Let me explain. I saw them the other day protecting the manhole opening near Mrs. Abercrombie’s house.” Colton quickly toweled himself off. He reached for the dry pair of shorts and slipped them on under his towel. “They may be very useful at some point.”

Colton continued to wipe himself off as he led the girls inside. They followed him to the top of the stairs, where several sandbags were stacked along the banister. He continued. “When somebody kicks in our doors, you can be pretty sure the people coming in are not here to make friendly conversation or to borrow a cup of sugar. We need to be prepared to defend ourselves and to greet them with a sufficient amount of deterring force.”

“Are we gonna drop the sandbags on their heads like in the
Home Alone
movie, Daddy?”

Colton laughed. “I hadn’t thought of that, Alex, but it’s a possibility. I’ve tried to think of as many scenarios as possible so that we can maximize our defenses against bad guys. If we get overrun, we need a rallying point and methods to delay our attackers while everybody gets together.”

“You’ve placed sandbags near the dormer windows too,” noticed Madison.

Colton patted a stack of sandbags. “These are solid and will help deflect or absorb any bullets shot at us. Whether we’re shooting from the windows or keeping them from coming up the stairs, the goal is to delay, then defend against the intruders.”

“Makes sense,” said Alex. “What about the dressers?”

Colton easily pushed one of the dressers to block the stairs. He tilted the dresser and retrieved one of the felt EZ slides from beneath the furniture leg.

“I found these in the utility room,” said Colton. “The movers used them to push the heavy pieces of furniture around the house. If our attackers are pursuing us up the stairs, blocking their way with a heavy piece of furniture should slow them down.”

“Won’t we get trapped up here?” asked Madison.

“I have a plan for that,” replied Colton. “This is a fallback position if we can’t get to the rally point through the downstairs exits.”

“Where is the rally point?” asked Alex.

“The garage, where our most valuable asset is located.” Colton led them past the bedroom toward the double-door entry to the bonus room—a six-hundred-square-foot space located above the garage—which was built into the roof truss system. The family once used it to shoot pool and play video games.

More sandbags were stacked in front of the pool table. Under the pool table was an area rug. Colton dropped onto his hands and knees, pulled aside the rug, and revealed a two-foot-by-three-foot opening in the floor between the trusses.

Madison and Alex crawled under the pool table to look as well. “A hidey hole,” exclaimed Alex. The three of them looked into the garage, where the roof of the Jeep Wagoneer was parked a few feet below them.

“We’re gonna practice this until it becomes easy,” said Colton. “But the plan would be to lure them up the stairs, delay their access to the second floor, and then drop ourselves through this hole and into the Wagoneer.”

“You mean we’ll leave everything behind?” asked Madison.

“Not entirely,” replied Colton. “We need to pack the truck with clothing, supplies, and food. Use every available suitcase, duffle bag, and backpack.”

“I should also put the camping supplies and fishing gear in the back,” added Madison. “We don’t need them here.”

Colton slid out from underneath the pool table and bumped his head in the process. “Defending our home against armed gunmen is our biggest weakness. We only have one weapon, and none of us are trained. A gunfight is not conducive to on-the-job training. All of these measures are designed to delay the attack so we can escape.”

“Live to fight another day,” added Alex.

“Exactly.”

Chapter 13

DAY THREE

Noon, September 11

HPA Meeting House

Trimble Rd. & Lynnwood Blvd.

Belle Meade, Tennessee

The second meeting of the HPA took place in front of the house in the circle drive. Attendance was larger today. Alex saw the Youngs and the Kaplans hanging out under a large oak tree. They’d had a conversation about this on the way over to the meeting.

Colton felt like they were better off than most of their neighbors thanks to the efforts of Madison and Alex. The acquisition of the Jeep Wagoneer in a world full of the latest and greatest, but now inoperable, vehicle transportation was very fortunate.

In the past seventy-hours, they’d not heard any generators running. This could be because no one in the vicinity owned one or because they didn’t have the fuel to run it. Either way, the Rymans had both and would shield these assets from others as well.

With this in mind, the Rymans decided to blend in and not stick out. The plan was to dress normal and move and act in a way that was forgettable. They agreed to use their best efforts not to draw unnecessary attention to themselves. If their neighbors realized the extent of their supplies, they would become jealous or even angry. As time passed, that anger could turn to desperation and violence.

“Invisible in plain sight,” Alex whispered to her dad as they walked to the middle of the pack.

Wren walked onto the front porch of the home, followed by his two sidekicks—Holder and Andrews. The grand appearance of the anointed leaders of the HPA disgusted Alex. She could see disdain on a few of her neighbors’ faces as well. She quickly glanced through the crowd, looking for Jimmy Holder. She couldn’t see him.

Then, a moment later, three men in mismatched uniforms joined them. They were carrying sidearms and had rifles slung over their shoulders. They looked like they were military or National Guardsmen.

“May I have your attention, please,” started Wren. “Once again, I want to thank all of you for attending. I anticipated a bigger turnout today, so I moved the meeting to the front yard. I apologize for the heat, but the shade trees and the slight breeze should make it more comfortable.”

Wren turned and received a clipboard from Holder, with a pen tied to it by a string. Wren continued. “I’d like everyone present today to sign in with your name and address, if you don’t mind. In order to help one another, we need to know who is here. Also, if you have any special requirements like medications, please note them on the notepad or see Gene, Adam, or myself after the meeting. We will begin to pool our limited resources and distribute them to those who are in need.”

Wren walked to the front of the crowd and began to pass the clipboard around. As it circulated, one of the uniformed men leaned into Wren and whispered in his ear. Colton shifted uneasily as he fixed his eyes on the three men. Alex picked up on his reaction to their attendance.

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t like the looks of these guys,” he replied.

Alex studied them further. Their uniforms didn’t match, but there might be an explanation for that under the circumstances. Then she looked at their shoes. They weren’t military-style leather boots. The men were wearing hunting boots like you buy at Walmart.

Alex leaned into her father and whispered, “Daddy, their shoes.”

Colton nodded. “It wouldn’t surprise me if they’re imposters,” said Colton. “Look at how they stand. Their demeanor is off somehow. There’s no
discipline
.”

Wren began the meeting. “I’m pleased to let all of you know that our government is hard at work to fix this situation, and they have placed the National Guard on the streets of Nashville to ensure we are protected—which leads me to the introduction of these three gentlemen.”

Wren explained the men were part of the National Guard contingent assigned to their area. They would be checking on missing neighbors and helping the sick get to hospitals. As he spoke, the clipboard made its way to Colton, and he immediately passed it on to a person behind him.

“Aren’t you gonna sign it?” asked Alex.

“Nope, none of their business,” he replied under his breath.

Wren continued. “These men will spearhead the recovery effort in the Belle Meade area and keep us informed of newsworthy events and further emergency alerts.”

As Wren spoke, Alex saw Jimmy Holder emerge from around the large shrubs at the corner of the HPA meeting house. He seemed disinterested in Wren’s presentation, opting instead to break off a piece of a boxwood and pick off its leaves.

Alex took a deep breath and whispered to her dad, “Daddy, do you trust me?”

“Of course, Allie-Cat.”

“Okay,” she continued, leaning closer so she wouldn’t be overheard. “I’m gonna leave now, and I’ll meet you back at the house. I’ll be safe, I promise.”

“But wait,” Colton replied, but Alex was off, casually working her way through the crowd while their attention was focused on the front porch. In less than a minute, she reached Jimmy’s side.