Martial Law (6 page)

“You’re right, Drew,” said Abbie. “Regardless of the precipitating event, the damage to our critical infrastructure could be continental in scale. From coast-to-coast, our nation could be without power. Our utilities may be disabled for years. Senator Johnson stressed that a grid-down scenario represents a
high-consequence disaster
, as he put it, which is extremely debilitating. Within a year, ninety percent of Americans could die.”

“From what we experienced in the last couple of hours, Senator Johnson may have underestimated the impact,” said Jonesy. He slowed the wipers as they cleared the last hurricane feeder band.

“Listen, I always read that society would begin to fall apart in roughly seventy-two hours following a collapse event,” opined Drew. “Hell, it was barely seventy-two seconds before the folks in that civic center began to freak out.”

“The damage caused to the critical infrastructure in our wired world is only part of the problem,” said Abbie. “The real challenge will be the way we treat each other. All of the governmental white papers I’ve read grossly underestimate the reaction of the human race after a collapse event such as this. As we witnessed, it’s one thing for your power to go out in a storm. Even the most hotheaded among us will deem a storm-related outage as a mere inconvenience. But with the advent of social media, the majority of the population knew within minutes that our power could be gone for a long time.”

“Hence the rapid deterioration of society,” added Drew, finishing her thought.

“Societal collapse,” said Jonesy.

“Again, regardless of the cause, if our nation has been thrust into darkness, God help us,” said Abbie.

Chapter 10

September 3, 2016

11:29 p.m.

Eastbound Interstate 10

Near Monticello, Florida

As the two Suburbans slowed to enter a rest area, Drew was apprehensive. Granted, this was not Frenchtown in Tallahassee, but a new world that was forced upon them—a world with desperate people trying to understand, and survive.

He was trained on the importance of situational awareness. In Afghanistan, failing to maintain a heightened state of awareness would get you and your fellow soldiers killed. Situational awareness was not something practiced only by highly trained secret service agents or military personnel. It should be understood by everyone in this potentially dangerous society. Drew thought of it as
managed paranoia
. As far as he was concerned, a little bit of paranoia helped him develop a keen sense of situational awareness.

Clearly, it was time to be on
high alert
. This level of awareness, once mastered, enabled Drew to control the adrenaline rush needed to survive. It was the same type of rush a motorist might achieve when he saw an eighteen-wheeler rumbling through a red light towards him. Whether a motorist hit the brakes or mashed the gas might determine life or death. The adrenaline rush you received aided your reflexes and mental acuity.

Drew needed to keep his team on this level of readiness. He provided instructions for the two drivers, with a cautionary tone.

“Gentlemen, nothing is the same now. Based on our experience in Tallahassee and the magnitude of the situation, every person must be treated as a potential hostile threat. No exceptions. Understood?”

“Roger that,” came Ripley’s standard response. Jonesy nodded his head and appeared to grip the wheel a little tighter as the caravan slowed toward the rest area.

The rain abated, but the sixty-mile-an-hour winds were causing the Suburban to shake from time to time. Drew pointed to a truck parking spot to the left.

“Over there, Jonesy. Stay here and monitor my comms. Let me do a quick assessment.” Drew exited the truck and walked over to the other vehicle to enlist Ripley’s partner. As they crossed the parking lot of stranded and disheveled motorists, he wondered if they would make it to their destinations alive. There were no gas stations, no AAA wreckers to call, and no highway patrolmen coming to the rescue.
Has this dawned on the people of this country yet?

After surveilling the buildings and finding nothing out of the ordinary other than the looted vending machines, he returned to the Suburbans. He approached Jonesy’s window and opened up his mic to Ripley as well.

“Jonesy, stay with the vehicles. We’ll take Captain and Rhona inside. Keep your comms open and report anything suspicious. In and out, nice and clean. Copy that also, Ripley?”

“Roger that. I’ll send them over.”

“Abbie, reach into my bag and grab a hat. Pull it down over your eyes a little. The last thing I need is for you to be recognized.”

“Okay,” she replied. Drew walked around to her door and opened it. A bathroom break for a vice presidential candidate was anything but normal on a good day. Today, at least thus far, was not so good.

After Abbie and Rhona had finished, they exited the ladies’ room. A woman followed them with a young child dressed in a yellow rain slicker.

“Excuse me, can you please help us?” asked the young lady. She shielded her child from the wind-blown rain that was picking up again. “I’m out of gas and walked here with my little girl. The phones don’t work, and I don’t think the police are coming. Ever since they started breaking into the vending machines, we’ve been hiding.”

“Where are you headed?” asked Rhona.

Drew cringed a little—conflicted.
We can’t save the world
.
True, but what about karma?

“Lake City.”

Abbie pulled Drew close to her and whispered in his ear, “We can’t leave her alone.”

“Abbie, I understand. But we don’t have time to help her. And it’s too dangerous. The situation could get worse before it gets better.”

“But, Drew,” Abbie pleaded, “you see what has happened to people. This woman could get robbed, beaten or raped. What might happen to the little girl?” Abbie’s voice trailed off as her words resonated in Drew’s mind. He knew better than to make eye contact. That would seal it. Wasting time to contemplate a decision could be just as dangerous. The woman’s eyes darted between Drew and Abbie.

After a moment, he looked at the young mother and daughter.
They didn’t ask for this
. He decided to do a quick threat assessment by questioning the little girl, who was probably five years old.
Kids can’t lie
.

While watching the body language of the woman in his periphery, he kneeled down to address the child.

“What’s your name?”

“Roof,” she replied. “But all my friends call me Roofie.”

“Well, Ruthie.” Drew laughed. “It’s a terrible night to be out in the rain.”

“Mommy and I saw my grandma in Abalama.” The adults chuckled at her command of the English language in a four-year-old sort of way.

“And where do you live?”

“Wake City.” She looked into Drew’s eyes, and he studied her. Her smile showed her first missing tooth.
One last question
.

“Are you and your mom alone, Ruthie?”

“Yup. Papa wanted to stay home and watch footbaw.”
Dad of the year
.

Drew stood up and patted the child on the top of her slicker-covered head. The rain was starting to come down in sheets.

“Okay, ma’am. We’ll give you a ride to Lake City. Rhona, would you mind getting these young ladies settled in with you?”

“Not at all, Drew. Thank you,” replied Rhona. “Come on, girls.”

“Thank you so much,” replied the young woman and gave Drew an unexpected hug. She looked into Abbie’s face and mouthed
God bless you
.

The group made their way to the trucks.

“Look, Momma, a shiny bwack twuck like Papa’s.”

“Not quite, honey,” the mom replied. “Ours is twenty years old. Are you with the government?”

“Rhona, get our friend Ruthie settled in with a seat belt, please,” instructed Drew, ignoring her question. He turned to the young woman.

“Ma’am, I don’t mean any disrespect. But I hope you understand what I am about to say is said in all sincerity. We are with the federal government, and by taking you to Lake City, we violate every protocol.”

“I understand, sir. Truly, I do,” she replied. She then turned and said, “Abbie, we love you in Lake City. We need someone like you that understands how to put the country on the right track again.”

Abbie stepped past Drew, giving him the
side eye
, and gave the woman a hug.

“What’s your name?”

“My name is Regina Gates. It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Regina, we’ll do all we can to get you home safely in this mess. Okay?”

“God bless you, Abbie.”

“Yes, of course,” said Abbie, wiping the moisture from her eyes. “Thank you. Now, let’s get out of this rain and back on the road.”

Drew escorted Regina to Ripley’s vehicle, and Ripley shrugged. Drew just nodded as he closed the door behind her. Abbie approached his side.

“You did a wonderful thing,
sir
,” she said, adding a tone of sarcasm to
sir
.

“Okay, whatever. We can’t save them all, Abbie.”

“I understand. But we can save at least two.”

Chapter 11

Sunday, September 4, 2016

12:40 a.m.

Eastbound Interstate 10

Near Live Oak, Florida

Jonesy continued to navigate the Suburban, with Ripley taking the lead. Abbie dozed off in the backseat, so the trio drove in silence for a while. Drew was trying to process things. There were so many scenarios and potential causes.

He glanced at Abbie, who was getting some meaningful but fitful sleep. He had feelings for her, but the relationship was taboo. Drew tried to remain professional and maintain his distance, but the nature of his job had resulted in a closeness between them. The playful banter and flirting increased, but the rigors of the campaign never gave them time alone together. In Tallahassee, he had become consumed with protecting her. At this moment, he knew with utter certainty that he would give his life to protect her—not because it was his job, but because he was falling in love with Abbie.

Jonesy was fidgeting and finally broke the silence. Both men couldn’t stop their minds from racing.

“What the fuck, Drew? What do you think has happened?”

“I don’t know, man. It’s like we said earlier, there are so many possibilities. I believe we can rule out a solar flare.”

“Why?”

“With a solar flare, we would’ve had some warning. NASA and several other agencies, including the National Weather Service through their Space Weather Prediction Center, would have issued alerts. From what I’ve read, SPWC would provide twelve hours warning, but up to forty-eight hours is typical. No, this has to be an attack of some kind.”

“By whom?” asked Jonesy.

“Hell, pick one—Russia, China, North Korea, Iran, even terrorists like ISIS. This country hasn’t exactly been making friends in the world over the last several decades. They all hate us. Shit, they may have come together in a joint operation. They’re all butt buddies.”

“That’s true. But if they nuked us, they would have to know we would hit back twice as hard. You know, the whole mutually assured destruction thing—MAD.”

“I agree. Plus, realizing we know almost nothing in the way of facts, a lot of this is speculation. But the social media frenzy seemed to relate to the power going down, not a nuclear warhead detonation. It could have been a nuclear-delivered electromagnetic pulse.”

“But that would take several bombs, wouldn’t it?” asked Jonesy.

“I agree. A coordinated attack could take down the grid nationwide. But our defenses would be able to react to some of the incoming missiles. To me, that would prohibit a cross-country blackout.”

“Okay, if an EMP, whether nuclear or solar, didn’t collapse the grid, then what did?” asked Jonesy.

“Last Christmas, when I was visiting my folks, Pop gave me a book to read called
Cyber Warfare
. It was a detailed history of the use of cyber attacks by the bad guys we just mentioned, hacker activists like Anonymous, and our own Defense Department. Like Pop said, it was eye-opening.”

“Yeah, look what hackers did in Vegas back in the spring. They took down the grid on the Las Vegas strip. People died in the mayhem,” said Jonesy.

“I remember. There was one thing the author wrote that I’ve replayed in my head over and over again. He wrote—
No bombs. No bullets. No sword fights. Just a few keystrokes on the computer, and we’re done.
”

“Sounds plausible, doesn’t it, Drew?”

The sound of Ripley keying the mic in his earphone interrupted their conversation.

“Go ahead,” said Drew. After listening for a moment, he reached for the handset in his pocket and adjusted the dials. “Let me put you on speaker. Okay, go ahead.”

“We’ve caught a cell tower,” started Ripley. “Rhona can give us an update.”

Drew fumbled for his phone and held it up to observe the display. The signal strength meter gravitated between
no signal
and a single bar. Abbie stirred awake.

“We have cell service?” she asked in her half-awake state. “Is the power back?”

“Put her on speaker,” said Drew. “Rhona, tell us what you know.”

“Drew, I suddenly got cell reception as we passed the Live Oak exit. I didn’t receive a call, and I wasn’t able to call out. I continuously receive an all circuits are busy recording or a fast busy tone. Everyone in the country must be trying to use their cell phones as a means to get information.”

“What do you have for us?” Drew asked.

“I received almost two dozen text messages from various sources. I guess text messages are less taxing on the obviously overburdened cellular network.”

Drew was aware that Verizon and AT&T went to great lengths to upgrade their tower network with generators after the communications blackout triggered by Hurricane Sandy in 2012. As the storm battered the East Coast, flooding homes, destroying businesses, and taking lives, first responders felt helpless. Communications networks along the affected area were not functioning. As power outages became widespread in New York and Connecticut, cell towers relied on their backup power. As the demand in the region exploded, the backup generators were drained rapidly.