NightFall (8 page)

“
Was there anyone around?”
she asked.

He swished the water in
his mouth and then spit it out the window, starting the car back
up. The sound of the engine was music.
He
put the car into gear, and pulled
out of the driveway.

Mila volunteered to step out to close
the garage door. Rob waited as she got out and scanned their
still-quiet neighborhood around them. Mila returned, and they were
ready.

“
New York City, here we
come,” he said.

The Datsun sped down the street,
already gaining looks from nearby residents. The most challenging
task of their day was ahead.

On the Road

On an average day, the drive to New
York City from Nyack took about an hour, depending on traffic. But
with the roads literally at a standstill, such estimates were no
longer valid. Despite that, driving presented a litany of
challenges, although they were different from the usual
ones.

Gas stations for miles
were without power and unable to dispense fuel. Vehicles already at
the pumps, hadn
’t moved. Lines at
convenience stores were growing as people tried to scrape together
some cash, because the loss of power prevented stores from
processing transactions. How long, Rob wondered, before people
began looting?

In the age of digital currency, credit
cards, debit cards, and on-line bank accounts, not having a way to
pay for anything created helplessness and frustration. But such a
realization was only the beginning.

In response to the power outage and
their inability to continue working, shopping, or driving, most
people reacted with agitation and annoyance, even fear. Left
stranded, their only option was to wait. Wait for the power to come
back on. Wait for their phones, computers, and vehicles to begin
working again.

Leaving Nyack behind, Rob could see
that the entire town had was powerless—a massive blackout which
spread to unknown distances. Somewhere, he felt sure, government
officials and representatives from all agencies and branches were
scrambling. Had they been prepared? What measures had been put in
place? What procedures had been implemented for schools, hospitals,
and prisons? Was the country at war? And if so, with whom? Rob
didn’t have the answers, but he hoped someone did.

Avoiding cars stopped along the way,
he managed to merge onto Interstate 87 South, toward New York City,
roughly forty miles away. Mila was glued to the window, watching
nervously. People walked down the highway in droves. Many remained
at their vehicles. Others pushed their cars in
desperation.

Rob kept to the right
shoulder of the road while remaining mindful of the dangers
ahead.
They had received plenty of curious
looks from people they passed along the way. Before they reached
the main bridge out of town, an anxious police officer ran at them
from his downed-vehicle, waving his gun in the air.

“
Stop! Police! I need your
vehicle!” he shouted as they passed him by, and they watched him
grow smaller in the rear-view mirror.

They drove past bicyclists
and people on foot, and from their expressions, Rob sensed trouble
brewing. The sooner they found refuge the better.
Judging by the number of those still on the road
waiting, it was clear that, for them, the magnitude of what had
happened hadn’t fully settled in.

The route was predictably
congested with both pedestrians and stranded cars. And Rob knew
that the closer they got to New York City, the worse he was certain
things would be. He
was consumed with
thoughts of the dangers ahead. Traveling to one of the largest
cities in the world after a potential EMP strike was among the most
foolish things anyone could do. Yet they had no choice but to
continue on I-87 South.

Stranded pedestrians
repeatedly waved them down, but there was little Rob could do for
them but avoid them and pass.
Mila had a
road map open, tracking their route.

“
Almost there,” Rob said,
scanning the area ahead. A road sign said New York City was
twenty-five miles away

Mila nodded.
“Thank God. I’ve heard the expression,
sitting on eggshells before
, but this is ridiculous.”

Rob took her hand and squeezed
it.

They passed more gawking
groups of people at their steady speed
. He
maneuvered around vehicles dead the road, randomly moving between
three lanes of traffic. Mila cracked her window and let in a fresh
breeze. A motor-like whopping sound caught their ears from
above.

“
Is that what I think it
is?” Rob said pointing up.

Helicopters flew in the distance.
Three military Apaches. He’d never seen anything like it, certainly
not around upstate New York. The four-blade, twin-turboshaft
helicopters trailed off and became small dots in the sky. They were
headed south, toward the city—a sign of the chaos that most likely
awaited Rob and Mila.

In the long run, the city
didn’t have a chance, he believed. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe
instead of mass panic and fear, they city would remain calm and
civil; though Rob thought it unlikely.
Martial law was inevitable. And then what?

They neared line of cars spread along
the right shoulder of the road. There had been an accident. Rob
slowed as Mila looked up from the map, concerned.

“
What is that? A traffic
accident?” she asked.

There were no people around. An
abandoned four-door Nissan Sentra had smashed into the side of a
Volkswagen Jetta in its front quarter-panel and pushed it to the
side of the road. Plastic and glass was strewn across the pavement.
The third vehicles, A Ford F-150 was parked behind the other two
unscathed.

They proceeded past the accident with
caution and came upon a clear stretch of road, which provided
temporary relief. They were entering a rural stretch of road where
fields and trees and farmhouses flew by. Far up ahead on their
right was an eighteen-wheeler semi-truck, parked to the side. Its
trailer had a giant Target logo.

As they passed, Rob scanned the truck
with deep interest. Both rear doors were closed and bolted shut,
and there was no sign of the driver. The desire to investigate was
there, but they were on a time crunch.

Maybe on the way
back
, he said to himself.

He turned to Mila and spoke. “You
know, once supplies begin running out, people will be raiding these
trucks like wildfire.”

“
I know. Just terrible,”
she responded.

“
Pretty soon the shelves
in the stores will be empty, food will run out, and people will
grow desperate. And that’s when everything starts.”

“
What about air travel?”
Mila asked. “Can’t we just get out?”

“
I don’t know,” Rob
answered. “The obviously have helicopters, and I’m sure there are
still planes flying around. From my understanding, electromagnetic
waves travel down, not up.”

Mila smiled and held his
hand.
“Or how about we just take a rocket
and go into outer space?”

“
I’d liked that,” Rob said
with a smile and keeping his eyes forward.

The Datsun barreled down the mostly
open road, nearing the end of their scenic route and edging into a
more populated area, closer to their destination. One large green
traffic sign indicated that New York City was less than five miles
away. They were closing in, determined to face whatever the city
had in store for them.

Big Apple

From Manhattan to Brooklyn to Queens
to the Bronx to Staten Island, New York City was already in a state
of disarray. A massive power outage had occurred across all five
boroughs in a stunning fashion. Normally busy roads frequented by
millions of commuters daily were completely clogged and at a
standstill. The same gridlock could be found on the Brooklyn
Bridge, the Queens Expressway, and the New Jersey
turnpike.

The vibrancy of Times Square—all its
thousands of flashing signs, giant screens, and Broadway
ads—diminished in an instant to blank screens. Massive skyscrapers
from the Chrysler Building to the Empire State Building to the One
World Trade Center were dark. Every office on every floor of every
building was without power. Noisy road construction from all over
the city, normally blaring from every direction, had stopped, as
equipment sputtered, failed and went silent.

Yankee Stadium, Madison Square Garden,
JFK National Airport, the United Nations Headquarters, and every
other major landmark, locales known throughout the entire world,
was without power. Media centers, publishing companies, public
libraries, museums, restaurants, tech firms, schools, hospitals,
and prisons all suffered the same fate. The switch had been flipped
off. The cord unplugged. But loss of power throughout the city was
just the beginning of an immense national nightmare.

On the ground, the scene
was chaos defined. From Times Square to Wall Street, the
financial center of the world, everyone faced a
crisis similar to that in Nyack, ten times worse. The New York
Stock Exchange was in a storm of disarray. Millions of vehicles
throughout had just stopped working and the exacerbation among
commuters was staggering. Taxi drivers were helpless to explain to
their passengers why they weren’t moving. The NYPD struggled to
keep up with the mounting chaos. Their backup generators were
failing. Nothing seemed to be working—from vehicles to
communications—and the department was in a panic.

Theories abounded after a white flash
exploded over the Manhattan skyline at 9:35 A.M. Witnesses saw a
clear link between the aerial blast and the sudden loss of power
and mobility. The most stunning personal realization, among
residents and tourists alike, was the effect on their personal
electronics. Cell phones, tablets, laptops, and computers no longer
functioned. It was inexplicable and frightening at the same
time.

From Park Avenue to Columbus, most
people were in a state of denial. Some rightly suspected an EMP
blast, but there were stuck on foot like everyone else.

Under the towering skyscrapers, oceans
of people flooded the streets, leaving vehicles, offices, stores,
and schools—desperate to find loved ones and get home. As mass
confusion spread, a sizable fleet of Apache and Black Hawk
helicopters flew toward the open city skyline.

“
Your orders are to take
control of this city before it’s too late,”
the Flight Commander’s voice said into the headphones of his
pilots.

***

Rob exited I-87 and merged
onto Harlem River Drive. He could already see the noticeable
increase in traffic ahead, all of it at a dead stop. There were
more people—stranded at their cars or wandering around—than both he
and Mila could count. They passed Yankee Stadium. It looked empty,
but there were hundreds of people outside. It looked to be about
eleven or noon, by Rob
’s estimate. His
watch no longer worked.

Mila’s concern and impatience grew the
closer they got into the city. She kept a close eye on their map
for the quickest route to the Metropolitan Museum of Art on the
eastern edge of Central park. Roads in the city were confusing
enough, many of them narrow one-way and only two-lanes.

“
We might have to consider
finding a safe place to park and travel the rest of the way on
foot,” Rob said, looking ahead.

Mila studied the map while
running her finger along its surface.
“If
you take Harlem River to Park Avenue, it looks almost to be a
straight shot from there to the museum.”

Rob nodded and pulled to the right
shoulder of the highway to avoid a stopped line of vehicles.
People, it seemed, were growing more aggressive by the hour. A half
mile ahead, two large men blocked their path and waved him down.
Rob continued his steady pace.

Mila looked up.
“Be careful,” she said.

“
Relax,” Rob said.
“They’ll move.”

The Datsun got closer and the men
hadn’t moved an inch. They shouted for Rob to stop.

“
Rob…” Mila said,
clutching the dashboard.

“
Don’t worry,” Rob said.
His eyes were locked ahead—unwavering.

“
Pull over!” the man on
the left shouted.

His friend gave up and moved out of
the way.

Twenty feet away and getting closer,
Rob stared back into the face of the remaining man’s stubborn
defiance.

Inches, away Mila screamed and closed
her eyes just as the man jumped onto a nearby guardrail. The
Datsun’s front end clipped his leg as he leapt. Rob didn’t slow one
bit. He didn’t even look back.

Mila slowly opened her eyes and turned
her head to the back window. The man was standing up and brushing
his jeans off.

She whipped her head
around to Rob.
“Don’t ever do something
like that again!”

“
What else am I supposed
to do? Let them steal it?”