36 Hours: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction Series (15 page)

That was when she saw the bright reflection of steel, followed by a primal, guttural scream. Alex came at the man with a vengeance—and a sand wedge. Madison could hear the cracking of ribs as Alex drove the shiny, polished steel blade into the man’s side with all of her might.

The man roared in pain but continued to grab for the money. Alex didn’t hesitate. She raised the club again and drove it down onto his left forearm, resulting in an audible
CRACK
! The mugger had rolled onto his back, abandoning the quest for Madison’s money and choosing to beg for mercy. He held his left arm up with his right, gesturing for Alex to stop.

She didn’t. Alex swung again, crushing the man’s left hand and severing one of his fingers, which barely hung on by its skin. The man was kicking the ground, trying to push himself into the bushes for protection. Alex went after him again. This time, she drove the club into the ground, barely missing his feet. The golf club shaft snapped, leaving her to hold the grip while the sand wedge blade was embedded in the sod. The man used this as his opportunity to escape.

Alex turned to her mother. “Mom, are you okay?” Alex was frantically trying to dial 9-1-1, to no avail. She turned her attention back to her mom.

Madison wiped the blood off her neck and then discovered her nose was bleeding as well. She got onto her knees and nodded. As she came back to her senses, she realized two things. First, their money was blowing around on the grass, prompting her to overcome the pain and crawl on all fours to retrieve it.

The second thing she realized was nobody got out of the ATM line to help her.

Chapter 27

9 Hours

2:24 p.m., September 8

Harding Place

Belle Meade, Tennessee

Alex did her best to concentrate on the road as she drove her mother home. Even though Saint Thomas Hospital was right around the corner, her mom insisted that she was all right. She just wanted to take a shower or, better yet, a nice bath.

The traffic was at a standstill until Alex veered off Highway 100 and down Belle Meade Boulevard. The stately mansions stood high on the hill overlooking one of the most famous streets in Nashville. Unlike the chaos surrounding the last hour, Belle Meade looked like any other day. Lawn crews cut grass. A jogger, despite the sweltering heat, made his way along the tree-lined divided street. The mailman was dutifully stuffing mailboxes.

Madison threw the bloodied golf towel on the floor at her feet. She spoke for the first time since the attack. “Alex, I am so proud of you. You may have saved my life.”

“I’m glad you’re okay, Mom. I wish we had gone to the hospital. He kicked you in the head. Do you remember that?”

“Trust me, I’m feeling it,” replied Madison.

“What if you have a concussion?” asked Alex.

“I don’t, or at least I’m pretty sure I don’t have one. My nose isn’t broken either.”

“Well, that’s good. I’m pretty sure Daddy would be upset if your nose was crooked.” Alex attempted to lighten the mood. She glanced over at Belle Meade Country Club as she turned onto Harding Place. There were golfers coming and going like any other Thursday afternoon.

“No doubt,” said Madison. “Honey, again, thank you.”

“I didn’t save your life, Mom. But as Granddaddy would say, I did save you from a good old-fashioned butt whoopin’.” The women laughed as they passed Mrs. Abercrombie, who was retrieving her mail. Somehow the appearance of the longtime resident getting her mail struck the Ryman women as odd under the circumstances. They didn’t say another word until Alex turned on her left turn signal and slowly guided the large SUV through the very narrow stone columns adorned with iron security gates.

“Home sweet home,” muttered Madison.

“Yeah, no kidding,” added Alex. “I’ve got this, Mom. Why don’t you check yourself out and get changed. But what should I do with all of this stuff. We don’t have room in our pantry for it.”

Alex hopped out and opened the rear hatch. She handed her mom the keys to unlock the house. Alex studied Madison’s face one last time to make sure she didn’t appear confused or dizzy. Although the two didn’t talk much on the way home, her mom appeared alert and coherent. She wasn’t nauseous and didn’t seem sensitive to the bright, midday sun.

Last summer, one of her guy friends got hit in the temple with a golf club while horsing around, resulting in a concussion. Alex remembered what the paramedics were asking him before they took him to the hospital. She planned on keeping a close eye on her mom for the next couple of hours.

“Honey, why don’t you organize everything on the dining room table,” replied Madison. “I’d kinda like to take inventory to see what we have. Okay?”

“Sure thing,” replied Alex, and then she added, “Mom, I love you.”

“I love you too, Alex. Listen, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. But I have to tell you something. I haven’t heard from your father in hours. I want to assume he’s on a plane and will be home soon. He may be driving. But, honestly, I can’t say for sure. I just thought you should know.”

“He’ll be fine, Mom. We’ll all be fine.”

Chapter 28

9 Hours

2:24 p.m., September 8

Interstate 30

East of Dallas, Texas

Amazingly, the traffic through downtown Dallas was relatively light. Based upon the frenzied state of affairs at DFW, Colton imagined bumper-to-bumper, rush-hour-level traffic. While he was thrilled to be on the road, a six-hundred-and-fifty-mile trek across the southeast was going to be a challenge.

Finding Divine Car Rental open with available vehicles was a welcome sight, at first. Then he discovered his car rental options were limited and pricey. He had to choose between a Chevrolet Corvette and a Mercedes-Benz R350 crossover-style SUV. He opted for speed because he didn’t plan on any additional passengers and his luggage was back at the hotel. There simply wasn’t time to stop by the hotel and gather his belongings.

The other factor that would normally affect his decision making was the price—seven hundred dollars per day. He assured the clerk that his use of the Vette was strictly local, and he only needed it for a day. In Colton’s mind, either it wouldn’t matter in a day, or he would be facing one heckuva AMEX bill next month. He did chuckle to himself when he declined the loss damage waiver. If Madison and Alex were right, the Vette would be worthless by morning, with or without insurance.

He worked his way into the HOV lane without fear or compunction. He would be breaking a lot of laws in the next eight hours as he sped home to his girls. He’d be safe, of course, but he would not be a model citizen. He was racing against time, and time had a head start.

Colton finally cleared the bulk of the city’s traffic after he crossed the Interstate 635 loop. He was doing eighty miles an hour by the time he crossed Lake Ray Hubbard, and Colton barely noticed the town of Rockwall on his left as he sped toward the piney woods and the rolling hills of East Texas.

He had never driven a Corvette before and vowed to buy one if Madison would let him. It was simply the perfect driving machine. The interior resembled the cockpit of a flight simulator he once toured at the FAA when he was a child. Every square inch had a purpose and was sculpted in luxury. Today, however, the GPS was wholly inadequate thanks to the incoming solar particles disrupting satellite communications.

Without a map, Colton would have to rely on memory at first until he could stop somewhere and pick up a few things. The most important item on his list was a cell phone charger. His, unfortunately, was back in the hotel room, leaving his cell phone dead.

He fiddled with the Apple CarPlay onboard touchscreen. There was a phone function, but he wasn’t able to connect to a cell tower. Colton imagined that wireless providers were overwhelmed under the circumstances. The onslaught of calls by millions of Americans as they reached out to loved ones or to gather information was probably crushing the system.

Colton managed to pull up a local news station, which was airing
The Sean Hannity Show
. Hannity was providing an update on the solar flare.

“
So far we have nothing from the White House on what might be a life-changing event for the American people. We have discussed the devastating impact of an EMP on our nation’s critical infrastructure for years, and neither this administration nor the one before it took any action. While they waste money on their pet social programs, our nation has been put at risk of the very thing we are facing today
.”

Colton pushed the car up to over ninety miles an hour as traffic thinned to the occasional eighteen-wheeler. The westbound lane towards Dallas was much busier. He turned his attention back to the radio.

“
I am fortunate to have with us today former Speaker of the House Newt Gingrich. Mr. Speaker, thank you very much for joining us today. First, let me say that I hope you are safe and ready for what might be a devastating event in the history of this nation
.”

“
Well, thank you, Sean, and I can assure you that Callista and I have been prepared for something like this for some time. Sean, I have stated many times that the detonation of a high-altitude nuclear-delivered electromagnetic pulse could damage our power grid, rendering it inoperable for years. Make no mistake, this solar storm has the same potential
.”

“
Mr. Speaker, I have been waiting all day for this administration to address the American people about this solar event, and instead we get a photo op of Madame President playing soccer with the grandkids. Is she ever going to take the national security of this great nation seriously?
”

Colton slowed momentarily as a sheriff’s patrol car headed westbound. The deputy never gave Colton a look. He wondered if police radar was adversely affected by the solar radiation.

Gingrich continued. “
Sean, not only could this deal a deathblow to our society, it could be the kind of catastrophe that ends civilization as we know it, and that’s not an exaggeration
.”

“
I agree, Mr. Speaker, and I know that is why you have focused on these threats dating back to your time in office
.”

“
Sean, the reason I began focusing on this is there are very few events you can’t recover from. You can recover from 9/11 or Pearl Harbor. This is really different
.” Gingrich paused and the radio became silent for a few seconds. “
This solar storm can create such a collapse of our fundamental productive capacity that you could literally see civilization crash and tear itself apart—from within
.”

Colton looked into his rear and side view mirrors. He glanced at the clock. It was 3:00. He eased the Corvette Stingray to just over one hundred miles an hour.

Chapter 29

8 Hours

3:00 p.m., September 8

Ryman Residence

Belle Meade, Tennessee

Madison studied her face in the mirror and began to cry. Her chin had a gash reminiscent of her childhood days when she would fall off her bike, skinning up knees and elbows, but never her face. Madison was photogenic as a child and was once featured on the cover of a teen romance novel back in the day before half-naked men book covers became the norm.

During Madison’s pageant days, her beautiful face was her greatest attribute. She was always self-conscious of her body, as most young women are. Ultimately, it was the requirement to participate in the swimsuit portion of the pageants that ended her quest for the title of Miss Teen Tennessee. Despite her natural beauty, she wasn’t comfortable parading on stage in a swimsuit.

She gathered herself and wiped away her tears. Then she started laughing. Between the bruise on her cheekbone and the gash in her chin, she bore a strong resemblance to Angelina Jolie in the
Lara Croft: Tomb Raider
movie. In a way, today had been one of the most exciting days in her life, and certainly a memorable one. She’d found a strength she never knew she had.

She glanced out the window and saw her neighbor Christie Wren riding bikes with her two young daughters on the sidewalk. Madison wondered about people like Christie. Did they simply float through life, completely unaware of events that threatened their existence?

Madison realized she had been like the Christie Wrens of the world just forty-eight hours ago. Like most Americans, she took her life for granted in many respects, especially the relative safety she enjoyed. In a culturally and socially advanced society, you could go through life assuming that your fellow man wasn’t going to harm you just for the sake of causing harm.

When the threat of terrorism hit the country, Madison became more aware of people who seemed out of place. Admittedly, she was very nervous on an airplane if people of Middle Eastern descent were onboard. Despite the enhanced security measures put into place by the government, there was always that doubt.

If she had to go into downtown Nashville at night to meet Colton for a function, her eyes would dart about, seeking safe havens if a black person approached her on the sidewalk. Madison would never admit these things to her friends for fear of being labeled a racist. Of course, she felt guilty about having these thoughts. But the old axiom
better safe than sorry
justified her actions.

Madison perused her closet and picked out one of her jogging suits. Somehow, she felt the need to run, although she doubted she would go anywhere. The adrenaline was still pumping through her body.

Today, she was shocked by her fellow man.
Nothing has happened yet, people!
But she’d seen the dark side of mankind and it frightened her. Aggression, panic, and indifference were on full display. As she replayed the attack at the ATM over and over while she bathed, the aspect of the entire event that revolted her the most was the apathetic attitude of the onlookers. Had it not been for the quick thinking of her brave daughter, she could’ve been more severely injured.