Zero Hour: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction Series (The Blackout Series Book 2) (7 page)

Madison stood and retrieved the radio from the coffee table. Alex tried to stop her. “I want to listen some more, Mom.”

“I know you do, Alex,” started Madison, who picked it up anyway. “You and I have to cut and staple the landscape fabric to the windows so your dad can nail the boards up today. Besides, when we’re not using the electronics, we should keep them stored away in the Faraday cages.”

“Why? The storm has already passed,” protested Alex.

“I remember the picture of the hole in the Sun you showed me. It looked like it had a few more solar flares in its belly ready to fire at us.” Madison tucked the radio away and sealed the lid with the handle of the galvanized trash can. As the lid snapped shut, someone pounded on their front door, startling all of them.

Chapter 10

DAY TWO

11:00 a.m., September 10

Ryman Residence

Belle Meade, Tennessee

“Who is it?” shouted Colton through the door as he held the shotgun nervously. There was no answer. He repeated his question, only louder this time. “Who’s out there?”

Still no answer. He turned to Madison and Alex, gesturing for them to look out the back door and the kitchen side door. They ran at a low crouch and reached their appointed doors. The sound of clicking dead bolts reminded Colton they weren’t following their protocols for keeping entryways locked.

He moved to the living room and peered through the curtains. There wasn’t anyone there. Rather than opening the front door to a possible ambush, he left through the kitchen door and moved along the outside wall of the house. Many things went through his mind.
Am I prepared to shoot someone? How does this gun work?

He immediately chastised himself for not learning the basics of the operation of the Remington shotgun. He took a deep breath and channeled a character on
The Walking Dead
television show. He pumped the fore-end, which generated a loud, metallic sound. C
LACK—CLACK
.
That would scare me away
, he thought to himself.

Colton, the adrenaline pumping through his body, steadied his nerves to confront the intruder and swung into view. Nobody was there. He pointed the gun in all directions, swinging it towards the garage and back to the front door. Nothing. He relaxed and approached the porch, where a rock was placed on top of a handwritten piece of copy paper.

“Colton?” yelled Madison through the window.

“It’s okay,” he announced. “You can open the front door.”

Madison slowly opened the door, and the girls cautiously peeked out.

“Seriously, y’all,” said Colton. “It’s safe. We’ve got mail.”

Madison and Alex joined him, nervously looking around the yard. Colton read the note aloud.

“The Harding Place Association of neighbors will be meeting today at noon at the Brileys’ former residence located at Trimble and Lynnwood. We encourage everyone to participate as we discuss the power situation. It’s signed Shane Wren, President of the HPA.”

Colton handed it to Madison, who read it to herself under Alex’s probing eyes. He glanced at the cheap Timex watch he’d purchased at T Ricks. They had an hour.

“Where is the smoke coming from?” asked Alex, as she looked up at the black smoke clouds drifting overhead. She instinctively covered her mouth.

“I noticed it this morning as I did my final walk around the house,” replied Colton. “It seems to be coming from the west toward Highway 100.”

“It stinks.”

“Come on, guys, let’s get back inside and talk about this meeting,” said Colton, leading them into the foyer and locking the door behind them. He took the notice from Madison and examined it again.

“Should we go?” asked Madison.

“You know, just like before the solar flare, I’d rather avoid these things like the plague,” said Colton. “I guess, under the circumstances, we should check it out, if for no other reason than to learn what they’re up to. After the other night, I’ve got no use for Shane Wren and the rest of his cronies.”

“You should go,” said Madison.

“Me too,” chimed in Alex.

“I don’t really think this will be appropriate for—” started Madison before Colton interrupted her.

“It’ll be fine, Maddie, and instructive. Alex can see how these types of meetings are conducted. Also, another set of eyes and ears will help.”

“Yeah,” said Alex as she ran to find her shoes.

When she returned, she kissed her Mom on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom. I really want to help, but I also need to get out of the house. I’m getting cabin fever.”

“Good grief.” Madison laughed. “After one day. Are you guys leaving already?”

“Yeah,” started Colton. “I wanna check on Mrs. Abercrombie, and then I might pick up the Youngs and Kaplans on the way to the meeting. I love you.” Colton kissed Madison on the cheek. He and Alex were off on their father-daughter afternoon. The usual afternoon of golf together was replaced with checking on neighbors and neighborhood association meetings.

Colton and Alex spent about five minutes knocking on Mrs. Abercrombie’s doors and walking around her home. She never answered. The doors were locked, and there were no signs of a break-in.

“This is weird, Daddy,” said Alex. “Mom and I saw Mrs. Abercrombie getting her mail tw days ago. Surely she didn’t go anywhere, right?”

“I don’t see her car, and everything else seems to be okay,” replied Colton. “Maybe she got spooked by the news and went over to a friend’s home for safety.”

Alex shrugged and led the way to the Youngs’ front door. Nobody was home, but their note, if they received one, was missing. As they walked back across their front yard towards the Kaplans, the smell of smoke became more intense as the hot winds picked up.

“Daddy, it hasn’t rained in a week, at least,” started Alex. “I remember because our match got rained out.”

“It’s a bad situation,” said Colton. “I’m sure other transformers exploded Thursday night. Those fireballs could have gone throughout the city, catching houses and trees on fire. With no firefighting equipment available and no water being pumped, the fires will burn uncontrolled until it rains.”

“Hey, Colton!” shouted Rusty Kaplan from his driveway. “Did you hear about the meeting?”

“Yeah,” replied Colton. “Do you guys wanna go with us?”

“Sounds good,” replied Karen Kaplan.

The four began walking up the hill towards the Brileys’ home. One of their neighbors was the listing agent on the vacant house and apparently made it available to Wren for the meeting. They walked slowly as Karen and Rusty became winded on the fairly steep incline of Lynnwood Boulevard.

“What do you expect from this meeting?” asked Rusty, now out of breath.

“I guess it makes sense to establish a system of community leadership,” started Colton. “Assuming this situation is going to go on for a while, our neighbors in need could benefit from somebody looking out for them.”

“What do you think about Shane?” asked Karen.

“No comment.” Colton laughed. The Kaplans had puzzled looks on their faces. Colton realized they didn’t understand, and he cautioned himself against expressing his opinion like that in the future. Words were amplified now and could easily become misconstrued. “Well, Shane is a professor of political science. He should have an idea how groups and governments are formed. I’m hoping for the best.”

They reached the top of the hill and the street leveled out. Several people were making their way towards the Briley residence.

“Almost there,” Rusty huffed.

“Let me add this,” said Colton. “In my opinion, the best way to form an impromptu group is to establish a committee of leaders, with one person being the primary spokesman. If everyone votes on their leadership team, this will help boost morale and give folks a sense of security. The team would also gain respect through legitimacy. Under the circumstances, a little structure may lend some normalcy to everyone who is used to functioning with a government in our lives.”

“Do you think Shane is the right man for the job?” asked Karen.

“I only know him in passing, Karen,” replied Colton. “I think any leader needs to have the respect of the entire community and should have a track record of moral integrity. He needs to set an example for the neighborhood and make sound decisions. Only time will tell if he is the right guy for the job.”

Chapter 11

DAY TWO

Noon, September 10

HPA Meeting House

Trimble Rd. & Lynnwood Blvd.

Belle Meade, Tennessee

“Here we go,” said Alex, who had remained quiet the entire way. She recognized this as an adult meeting and was glad to get out of the house. If she were able to help in some way, maybe her dad would bring her again. Colton leaned into her ear and whispered, “Watch, listen, and learn,” as they entered the grand foyer of the large home, which had been on the market since the previous year. The Brileys were divorced, and the court ordered the sale of the home. It stood vacant, as the spiteful couple refused to live in it.

“Welcome, folks,” said Shane Wren as he opened up the double set of sliding doors leading to a covered patio that stretched the length of the home. “Let’s go out here. This is a big turnout, and it’ll be much cooler in the shade of this canopy.”

Alex looked around at the attendees. They were all dressed like a normal day. Nobody seemed panicked or injured. A couple of parents had brought their young children, who attempted to squirm out of their parents’ control. All of the neighbors appeared overheated. As everyone found a spot, Alex noticed there was only one other teenager, who was standing alone at the back of the enclosed patio. She tugged on her dad’s arm and whispered, “I’m gonna hang out with the kid on the back wall, okay?”

“Sure, but don’t wander off,” replied Colton.

“Got it,” she replied.

Alex nonchalantly walked toward the back of the patio and leaned against the wall. The boy immediately noticed her, but shyly looked away when she caught his glance. He appeared to be a year or two younger than Alex. Alex turned her attention to Wren as he started the meeting.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming this afternoon. I see a lot of familiar faces, but for those who don’t know me, my name is Shane Wren, and I live through the backyard behind us on Westview. My wife, Christie, is at home with our two young daughters. In my prior life, which was, well, a couple of days ago, I was a professor at Vandy.” The group laughed with Wren. Alex didn’t, and she noticed that her dad wasn’t laughing either.

“I’ve been the president of the Harding Place Association, or the HPA as we like to call it, for almost two years. In the past, my job was to organize activities and deal with issues surrounding our restrictions. Today, we face an uncertain future and a crisis never before experienced in our country.”

Several people mumbled their acknowledgement of the situation and nodded as Wren continued. A few attendees carried notepads and used them as fans to cool their faces.

“I would like to introduce a couple of your neighbors. This is Adam Holder, who used to work for First Tennessee Bank.”

Holder stepped forward. “Hello, everyone.”

“Adam lives down on the cul-de-sac at Sheppard Place,” started Wren. “Also, please meet Gene Andrews, who lives right up the street. Gene has an announcement to make, don’t you, Gene?”

“I do,” said Andrews. “I was formerly director of compliance at the IRS office here in Nashville. I’m pleased to announce that we won’t be collecting taxes for a while.” The three men laughed and several in the crowd joined in.

“Our life is over and they want to spew a bunch of jokes,” said the teenage boy into Alex’s ear, startling her. She jumped and turned toward him.

“You scared me!” she exclaimed.

“Sorry, dude,” said the boy. “I didn’t mean to.” He cut himself off and hung his head. Alex picked up on the fact that he was sensitive to being scolded.

“It’s okay,” she started. “I’m a little jumpy, you know. My name’s Alex.”

“Hi. My name is Jimmy.” He hesitated for a moment. “Jimmy Holder. That’s my stepdad up there—the one with the sport coat on.”

“It’s a little hot for a jacket, isn’t it?” asked Alex as Wren continued.

“He’s a banker, whadya expect?” Jimmy replied, drawing a laugh from Alex. Jimmy kicked a small rock and chuckled under his breath.

Wren spoke a little louder. “Make room for these new folks who’ve just arrived, if you don’t mind.” The outdoor room became more crowded as a few more joined the group. Alex estimated forty people were crammed into the small space.

Wren continued. “Until the government gets things squared away, we’ve decided to meet here every day at noon. Of course, attendance isn’t mandatory, but we hope all of you will play an active role in binding our community together. We have every confidence that FEMA will be reaching out to all of our neighborhoods.”

Spontaneous applause erupted from much of the room. Alex smirked and shook her head.
They don’t know that for certain.

Jimmy must have noticed her reaction and quietly spoke to Alex. “They’re blowing sunshine,” he started. “My stepdad says the power may not come on for years. He’s worried about the fact we don’t have much food.”

“You don’t?” asked Alex.

“He’d usually eat out after work, while at the bar,” said Jimmy. “He’d make me fend for myself when Mom was traveling.”

“Where is she?” asked Alex.

“D.C.,” he replied. “She’s a bank lobbyist.”

“Oh,” said Alex. She studied Jimmy. He seemed troubled and distant. Alex had met kids like him in the past. Broken homes often didn’t work out for the children. Parents couldn’t get along, split up, and then remarried. Some kids took it in stride—many couldn’t cope. Jimmy seemed to fall into the latter category.

Wren continued speaking. “Our President wants us to band together, pool our resources, and help one another through this crisis. In the spirit of cooperation, we are asking our neighbors—all of you and those who couldn’t attend today—to bring extra food, water, and supplies to our daily meetings.”