The Rule of Three (3 page)

“There’s another car!” Danny screamed.

Another old junker was coming toward us. The driver leaned out his window and waved to us. As he came to a stop I pulled up beside him and halted when we were window to window.

“Old car,” I said, pointing at his vehicle.

“We’re the only things that seem to be running. How far have you come?” he asked.

“Only a couple of miles.”

“And is it like this all over?” he asked.

“As far as we’ve seen. Where are you coming from?”

“Milton. I’ve been driving for thirty miles, and it’s like this everywhere I’ve passed through. I figure the only way my wife is getting home from work is if I get her.”

“She’s one of the lucky ones who’ll get a ride home,” I said. “Be careful.”

He gave me a strange look.

“You know, drive carefully … There are so many abandoned cars,” I said—but that wasn’t what I’d meant, and I think he knew it. I had an uneasy feeling about the way people had been looking at us as we passed. There was something in their eyes, especially the last guy who tried to wave us down. He looked angry when I didn’t stop.

The other driver headed off in one direction and we drove in the other.

“How
are
people going to get home?” Todd asked.

“I guess they’re going to have to walk.”

“Where’s Dad?” Rachel asked.

In the rush of everything I hadn’t even thought of that. I looked at my watch and did a quick transposing of time. “He’s halfway across the country, on the ground in Chicago. His flight isn’t scheduled to leave for another hour.”

“So he’s okay, right?” Rachel asked.

“Of course he’s okay. He’s millions of miles away,” Danny said. “Probably none of this is even happening there.”

“I’m sure he’s good,” I said. “You know Dad. Nothing fazes him. He’s probably just worried about how we’re doing.”

We continued driving, leaving the last of the houses behind. Lori lived on one of the few remaining little farms on the edge of our suburbs. I’d seen more and more of those farms turned into new subdivisions. I figured it wouldn’t be long before her farm was gone, too.

“You live way out here?” Danny asked.

“It isn’t that far. My family’s been there forever. It’s the farm where my father and his father were born.”

“What’s it like to live on a farm?” Rachel asked.

“I love it. We have lots of space and cows and horses and—”

“You have horses?” Rachel asked.

“Three.”

“I love horses!”

“Then you have to come and
ride
sometime.”

“Could I do it today?”

“Not today,” I said, before Lori could answer. “We need to get home.”

“But today is the perfect day,” Rachel said. “It’s not like we can watch TV when we get home.”

“Another day,” Lori said. She turned to me. “Your sister is adorable. You have to promise you’ll bring her back.”

“If he won’t, I’m sure my mother will,” Rachel said.

“No, I’ll do it!” I said, cutting her off.

Todd started chuckling from the backseat. He knew what I was thinking.

“There’s my dad!” Lori said.

In the middle of a big field alongside the road was a man on a tractor pulling a plow. Trailing behind the machines, landing in the newly turned ground, a flock of gulls gobbled up whatever grubs were being unearthed by the plow.

Then I realized that the tractor was
functioning
. I guessed it was an old tractor.

We turned up the dirt lane leading to the farmhouse. It was a bumpy, pothole-filled ride, and I slowed down dramatically to stop from bottoming out. My suspension wasn’t that great at the best of times, and with this many people in the car it was much more of a problem. I had already felt the extra weight in the turns, and acceleration had been even slower than usual. Todd always joked that my car could go from zero to sixty in under ten minutes.

I stopped at the end of the lane. As Lori climbed out I put the car in park, but I didn’t turn it off. I just didn’t want to risk it not starting again.

“The tractor your father is driving—is it old?” I asked.

“Really old. He doesn’t trust new when old still works.”

My theory was holding up.

“Thanks for driving me home, Adam,” Lori said. She touched my arm lightly, which sent an electrical charge through me. At least
that
power grid was operational.

“Um, no problem. So I guess we better get going.”

“But you are coming back, right?” Lori said. “You know, for Rachel to ride a horse. You could even join us.”

“I could do that. See you later.”

With the twins and Todd shouting back and forth to see who could say the loudest goodbye to Lori, I gave her a final wave and then turned the car around and went back up the lane. When I got to the road, I stopped and instinctively looked both ways for traffic that wasn’t coming.

“I still don’t know why I couldn’t go riding today,” Rachel said.

“Not today, kid. Maybe I could bring you back tomorrow.”

“You don’t even like horses,” Danny said.

“It isn’t Lori’s horses that he’s interested in,” Todd said.

“Shut up, Todd,” I warned.

“Is that any way to talk to your best friend, who arranged for Lori to even be in the car to begin with?” he asked. “Rather than saying ‘Shut up, Todd,’ shouldn’t you be saying ‘Thank you, Todd’?”

I took a deep breath. “Thank you, Todd.”

“Now, was that so hard?” Todd asked. “It’s no wonder that I find
you
so adorable.”

4

I maneuvered through the dead cars in the intersection leading into our neighborhood. Off to the left sat the gas station. There were a few cars parked there, and a big gas tanker stalled at the pumps. I’d meant to stop on my way home and get a fill-up, but I knew that couldn’t happen now. My gas gauge showed half a tank—it always showed half a tank because it was broken—but I knew I had a lot less than that. I hadn’t expected to drive Lori home.

We turned off Erin Mills Parkway and drove past the little strip mall at the top of the neighborhood and down the hill leading to our houses. Everything looked so normal. I rolled slowly along to our street.

There was one car at one side of our driveway—my father’s. My mother’s truck was with her at the police station, and she’d driven him to the airport before her shift had started. Her car was newer and wasn’t going to get her home. Then again, I didn’t think she was going to be able to leave the station right now anyway. I pulled in next to my dad’s car and we all climbed out.

“Hey, Adam!”

I turned around. It was our neighbor Herb Campbell.

“Look,” Todd said under his breath. “It’s James Bond.”

“Not quite 007,” I said quietly.

Herb walked over. He always walked quickly for a guy his age—he had to be almost seventy. He’d moved in next door about a year ago. He said he was retired from working for the government and had been stationed in embassies around the world. My father
loved
that. As a pilot he’d flown all over, and the two of them were always talking about places and politics and people. Herb was a handyman type and seemed to have every tool in the world. He’d lent his tools—and suggestions—as my dad and I had worked on the ultralight plane we were building in our garage. Herb was always friendly and helpful.

And he made me nervous.

Most of the time he was just Herb, our neighbor, but then you could see there was something else, and you got the feeling that he was looking right inside of you. It wasn’t a grumpy-old-guy kind of thing, like a geezer yelling at kids to get off his lawn. I watched him when he didn’t know he was being watched. He really
studied
people. It was the same way my mother and every other cop I’d ever met looked around, scanning the room, checking things out. Herb never said much about his job to us, even when he was asked direct questions. He just said he’d been a paper pusher—but I had a feeling there was more to it. A lot more. Didn’t spies work out of embassies? How crazy a thought was that? I’d only ever mentioned it to one person—Todd—and he never let me forget it.

“What’s it like out there?” Herb asked.

“Pretty quiet,” I said. “Nothing is moving.”

“Nothing that has computers,” he said. “Obviously, your car is old enough to still work.”

“Sometimes older is better,” Todd said.

“I’ve been saying that for a while,” Herb agreed with a smile. “It’s just good to see you made it. Even with a car that works I was worried that you might not be able to get home.”

Herb did take an interest in our family. All my grandparents had been gone for years, and he was kind of the only older guy I knew. Because he had nobody else, my mother had started inviting him to join us for holiday meals. My dad joked that she always took in strays.

“It was a little tricky, but it wasn’t that big a deal. I’m sure it’ll all be fixed pretty soon,” I said, trying to sound reassuring.

“Optimism is a fine quality,” Herb said.

“We spoke to a guy who said it was the same in Milton,” Todd said.

“This is not a standard power outage. This is something very different. Something a little bit bigger than that,” Herb said. He turned to my brother and sister. “I have a generator, so there’s electricity at my house. If you two are interested, you can go over to watch a DVD and have a cold drink.”

“That would be great,” Danny said.

“You might want to even dip into the freezer and make yourselves an ice cream cone.”

The twins weren’t going to say no to that offer. He waited for them to leave before he continued.

“I was on the radio and—”

“I didn’t think radios worked,” Todd interrupted.

“My shortwave radio. I have an old tube set. Completely analog. Those with digital sets are going to be out of luck. And broadcast stations—AM, FM, satellite—are all off the air.”

“Herb is a ham radio operator,” I explained. I pointed out the tall aerial that rose above his roof.

“I’ve been on the horn for the last hour. With the power down, most of my contacts are out of operation. I’ve reached a ham with an old set in Detroit. It’s the same situation there.”

“And in Chicago?” I asked.

“Probably … Wait … Is that where your father was flying today?”

I nodded. “He took off early this morning and was scheduled to fly out this afternoon.”

“When this afternoon?” Herb asked. “When was he due to fly out?”

There was an urgency in his voice, and then with a jolt to my heart I realized why. “This would affect airplanes as well, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t know for sure. Let’s not jump to any conclusions. When was your dad’s return flight today?”

I checked my watch. “He’d be in the air by now … but he would have been on the ground when it hit, if it hit at the same time there as it did here.”

“It hit Detroit at the same moment as here, so Chicago would’ve gotten it at the same time, too.”

“Then he’s fine, right?” I asked.

“I can find out more about the general situation at night, when my signals can travel farther,” Herb said. “I hope I can connect to more hams.”

“So this is big,” Todd said.

“Very big,” Herb confirmed. “Adam, I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

“Sure,” I said.

“I need a ride.”

“I don’t have much gas,” I said, looking for an excuse to stay put.

“It’s not far.”

I should have just said no. Now it was too late.

“Todd, could you stay with Danny and Rachel?” I asked.

“Do you really think they need a babysitter?”

“I was hoping they’d watch
you
,” I joked.

“You could join them at my place,” Herb suggested.

“Do I get ice cream, too?”

Herb smiled. “Just go in. Lock the door behind you.”

“And I won’t talk to strangers or—”

Herb reached out and put a hand on Todd’s shoulder. “I’m not kidding, son. You lock the door behind you and watch the twins. This isn’t a request. Understand?”

“Yeah, sure.”

There had been that sudden change in Herb—the sort I’d seen before. Todd had seen it, too. In a flash he’d changed from a friendly old duffer to somebody different, almost dangerous.

Todd entered Herb’s house as we climbed into my car. I was relieved when it started right up again.

“Where are we going?” I asked, backing out of the driveway.

“Not far. Just go to Burnham Drive.”

There were more people in front of more houses now, clustered together, talking. With nothing to do inside, they were drawn outside, probably looking for answers that none of them had. I got the sense that Herb had more of an idea than anybody else. How many people even knew how widespread it was?

“What do you think caused this?” I asked.

“Obviously computer related, but you knew that. And computers control most of the things that control our lives, from the power grid to your ability to text that girl you’re interested in at school.”

He was wrong. Even if we had power I couldn’t text Lori, because I hadn’t yet been brave enough to ask for her number.

“How long do you think it will take to fix?”

“Days is a given. The question is how many days, or weeks.”

“You don’t really think weeks, do you?”

“Speculation is just like rumor. I don’t know if anybody knows the real truth, and that’s what leads to both danger and opportunity.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Rumors can cause panic that leads to desperate and dangerous actions. As for opportunity, it’s still there until people more fully realize what’s happening. That’s where you’re driving me, to take advantage of an opportunity.”

“If you need food, we have plenty at our place.”

“Thanks, Adam, but I am well stocked. I even have a good supply of extra gas to run my generator.”

“Maybe we should be coming to you for stuff,” I kidded.

“You know your family is always welcome,” he said. “You’re good people.”

“You’re good people, too,” I said, as lame as that sounded. What else could I say?