Final Chaos

4

Jim had held his breath as he’d turned the key in his old Subaru wagon. He knew enough about the effects of an EMP to know that it would have a devastating effect on most cars.

Of course, no one really knew what the real effects would be. Some thought that only older cars would work, and that the newer electronics of more modern vehicles would make the more susceptible to an EMP.

But Jim remembered reading something a few months back that said that actually wasn’t the case. The authors of the study theorized that because of the design of certain cars, the chassis and frame themselves could act as Faraday cages, insulting certain cars from the effects of an EMP.

“What are you doing?” Rob had said, in the passenger seat. “Just crank it already.”

Jim had finally pressed in the clutch and turned the key.

The Subaru had started.

He’d breathed a sigh of relief.

The Subaru wasn’t the shiniest or newest car on the block. Far from it, actually. It had its share of dents.

It wasn’t particularly trendy, either. Or fast.

But it worked. And it worked in the intense snow that Rochester got every winter. Jim often saw newer SUVs sliding around uselessly in the thick snow. Some of them actually only had front wheel drive, and if you drove behind them, you could spot the absence of a rear differential.

Jim put the Subaru in first, hit the gas, and released the clutch.

Soon, they were driving down Park Avenue, heading towards Pittsford, where Aly’s mother’s house was.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” said Rob. He sounded upset.

Jim didn’t answer. He was deep in thought, thinking about getting to Aly.

And what they would do next.

Jim had a good sense of what was going to happen. Of course, he didn’t know the specifics. No one did.

Everyone had their theories.

But they were just that—theories.

The only way to really know was to live it.

And unfortunately, that was the situation they were all in now.

The EMP would have fried the power grid. And it wasn’t going to come back on. Not without some serious technical repairs.

The repairs alone would be a massive undertaking.

The question really was whether or not society would start to crumble and fall apart before all the systems could be prepared.

Jim had seen people panicking in the supermarket when a blizzard was coming in. And that was in Rochester, where blizzards were about as common as any other type of weather.

So he wasn’t holding out a lot of hope that people would stay calm and hold it together.

No, definitely not. After a while, when the power hadn’t come back on for a few days, they’d panic.

And all hell would break loose.

And the panic wouldn’t even be the worst of it.

Images of violence and horror flashed through his mind. He pushed the thoughts away. He needed to stay focused on what was practical.

And what was practical was to get the hell out of there. With his wife, and her mother, if possible. And Rob, too, he supposed.

Jim’s own parents had moved to Florida a few years back. They’d had enough of the winters.

“You’re driving pretty fast,” said Rob, who didn’t drive himself. He was one of those people who didn’t have the right personality for driving. And, plus, he had that long string of DUIs.

Jim said nothing.

“Why are all those cars stopped?”

There were cars up and down Park Avenue. And none of them were moving.

Jim maneuvered around them, downshifting when he had to, but he kept his speed up.

“Jim, slow down!”

“We’ve got to get there,” said Jim. “Everything’s going to fall apart.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Don’t you see the cop?”

“The cop?”

Jim glanced off to his right, where there was a cop standing on the side of the road. He was waving his hands in a motion that clearly only had one meaning: stop.

The cop wasn’t dressed like a traffic cop. And there was no patrol car near him.

Jim made the decision quickly.

He wasn’t going to stop.

He respected the police. But there was no time now for getting pulled over.

“What are you doing?” said Rob.

“What I need to,” said Jim.

He pressed down on the accelerator and the Subaru’s engine whined.

Up ahead, there was an enormous SUV sitting dead right in the middle of the lane.

Jim maneuvered around it.

Meanwhile, Rob was tugging frantically on his arm, babbling in a high-pitched voice. He was trying to get Jim to pull over. “I can’t get another arrest,” he was saying. “I’ve got too many under my belt.”

Jim shook Rob off his arm and he turned towards him.

If he had to punch his friend, he would.

“Look out!”

Jim had only had his eyes off the road for a few seconds. But when he turned back to look, a bicycle had appeared right into front of the Subaru.

Jim slammed on the brakes.

But it was too late.

He hit the bike and the rider went flying.

“Shit!” Rob screamed. “You killed him!”

Jim said nothing.

For a moment, he just stared out the window at the fallen bicyclist. Long hair streamed out from under the helmet. It was clearly a woman.

And she wasn’t moving.

Not at all.

Jim glanced in his rearview mirror.

The policeman, who he’d passed only moments ago, was running full speed down the road towards them.

Shit.

It was all going wrong.

Maybe he hadn’t had the best plan for a disaster event like this. Maybe he didn’t have a clear idea of where to go.

But at least he’d known he had to get out of the city fast. And he had some gear.

He was far ahead of most of the people here. If things got bad enough, they’d run out of food. Most of them would die.

It wasn’t supposed to be like that for him.

Sure, he could simply drive away. It didn’t seem like the cop had a working vehicle, and it wasn’t like he’d be able to catch Jim.

But Jim wasn’t that kind of guy.

He’d hit her. There weren’t any excuses. He had to deal with it now. It was his responsibility.

Sure, he’d convinced himself that if this moment ever came, he’d do whatever he could for himself and his wife.

Now that the moment had come, though, he realized that there was no way he could leave this woman lying on the ground, not moving.

If she was still alive, she needed medical attention.

There’d be doctors at the hospital, even if the power was off. They could do something.

Couldn’t the cop help her, though? It was a last ditch thought as he tried to justify the behavior that he already knew wasn’t acceptable.

No, the cop wouldn’t help. How would he get her to the hospital without a vehicle?

Likely the ambulances weren’t working either. Only a few cars here and there, and who knew which ones.

Jim cut the engine, pocketed the keys, and opened the door.

“What are you doing, the cop’s coming! I can’t get another one, man!” said Rob, frantically. His face was frozen in panic and he looked like a deer frozen in the headlights seated in the passenger seat.

Jim ran to the woman.

“Hey!” he said, leaning down into her face. “Can you hear me?”

She was unresponsive.

Jim put his middle and index fingers against her neck, trying to find a pulse.

For a tense moment, he felt nothing.

Then he found it.

Her pulse was there. She was still alive.

“Hey!” shouted someone. A deep, male voice.

Jim turned his head.

It was the cop. He was still running, but he’d slowed down. He was panting with exertion.

“Come on,” muttered Jim, taking the young woman by the shoulders and shaking her gently, hoping that she’d wake up.

“Step away from her,” shouted the cop, finally catching up to him.

Jim froze.

“Step away.”

Jim didn’t move.

He didn’t know how the cop was going to react. It was likely that he didn’t understand the gravity of the situation, that he would try to arrest Jim for speeding, for ignoring a traffic stop, and for hitting a pedestrian.

Jim couldn’t be in jail while society crumbled. Especially not while Aly was out there. She didn’t know anything about EMPs. She wouldn’t have the slightest idea what to do. She’d stay locked inside her mother’s house and they’d both slowly starve to death.

“I’m just trying to help her.”

“Hands on your head.”

Jim raised his hands slowly above his head. He thought about the Ruger revolver in its holster. He didn’t know what to do.

Suddenly, there was shouting not far away from them.

About twenty feet away, there were two cars stopped in the road. One was behind the other.

Two men, presumably the drivers, had gotten out and were standing face to face, only inches apart from one another. One was skinny and short, and the other was massive and hulking. He looked like he might be a bodybuilder.

“Get away from my car!”

“You’re blocking me! Why won’t you just move out of the way?”

“Listen, buddy, you’ve got two seconds to get out of my face.”

“Oh yeah, or what?”

The skinny guy took a step back, turned around. He opened up the trunk of his sedan and took out a metal baseball bat.

This is how it starts, thought Jim to himself. He glanced at the cop, who didn’t seem to know what to do.

“Don’t move a muscle,” said the cop, who rushed off in the direction of the men.

The big bodybuilder guy didn’t stand a chance. He barely managed to react before the metal baseball bat swung in a wide arc and smashed into his face.

Blood ran freely from his nose, and his right eye remained closed. He howled in pain. But he didn’t go down.

Not yet.

He swung his fist in an arc towards the skinny guy.

But the skinny guy was too fast. He stepped easily out of the way. Meanwhile, he pulled his baseball bat back, gearing up for another swing. “I told you to get out my face,” he shouted.

“Rob,” hissed Jim. “Get over here. I need your help.”

No answer.

“Rob!” he hissed again.

Rob was probably petrified about the cop’s presence.

But he’d need to get over that.

Jim was on his hands and knees, trying to lift the young woman by himself. Her bike lay nearby.

Jim wasn’t looking, but he heard the metal baseball bat make contact again. He heard the sickening sound of bones breaking. He heard the sound of the cop’s orders to drop the weapon. He heard the curses. Then he heard the static zapping sound of the cop’s taser, and the skinny man’s scream of pain as he fell to the ground.

Hopefully this would all distract the cop long enough so that he could get away.

“Rob!” he hissed again, just as he lifted the limp woman’s body up.

She was heavy, but he was strong enough.

As he was walking her towards the Subaru, Rob finally appeared.

“Get the bike,” said Jim.

Rob looked scared. He glanced nervously in the cop’s direction.

The cop had the skinny guy on the ground, his face pressed into the pavement. The cop had the guy’s arms behind him, and was trying to get handcuffs on him. But the skinny guy was struggling wildly, like a fish flopping around on a dock.

“Get the bike,” said Jim again.

Whatever happened to the woman, a bike could be useful later on.

Jim’s Subaru was old enough that it didn’t have an electronic keychain fob, not that it would have worked, anyway.

At the back of his wagon, he managed to free one of his hands enough to open the latch and swing the fifth door up and open.

He lay the woman down carefully. She still wasn’t moving, but he could see her breathing now, her chest rising and falling. There were scrapes all along her arms, and her jeans were torn along the side. Blood leaked out of her leg, slowly staining her jeans.

Rob was rushing along with the bicycle, nearly tripping over himself.

“Put it in the backseat,” said Jim, opening the door for Rob.

With the bike in the car and the woman in the back, Jim and Rob got back in the Subaru.

Jim fished the keys out of his pocket, stuck them in the ignition, depressed the clutch, and hoped that the car would once again start.

He knew that logically there was no reason why it shouldn’t, but seeing all the other non-functioning cars gave him pause.

He turned the key. The engine roared to life.

“Hey!” shouted the cop, turning around.

He’d finally gotten the handcuffs on the skinny man.

Now there was a crowd of bystanders that had gathered around the cop and the fight.

Jim threw the stick into reverse, hit the accelerator hard, and the wagon’s engine started whining as he drove rapidly backwards down Park Avenue.

There wasn’t anything the cop could do. Not that Jim relished the situation. He’d always respected the police and what they did.

But they weren’t going to help him now.

Not without communication.

He was on his own.

They all were.

“What the hell’s going on?” said Rob.

Jim ignored him. Rob would have to catch up as they went.

The next question was, where were the headed next?

To Aly’s mother’s house, or to the hospital?

Jim needed to choose between the safety of his own wife, and the life of a stranger, whose injuries he was directly responsible for.