Sweetness in the Dark (4 page)

At family gatherings he and John would talk about world affairs. Paul had a doctorate in economics and the two would spend the entire time discussing the importance of their specialty in world affairs. Their wives would grow irritated at the two husbands distracted from family events. At least until Paul’s wife had taken their marriage over a cliff.

But Paul recalled one long discussion concerning EMP and CME. John had explained that both had the potential to cripple the Untied States. An Electromagnetic Pulse. or EMP, was more often a man-made phenomena caused during a nuclear explosion.

Emitted when a nuclear bomb was detonated, a super electrical charge blasted out that could overwhelm any unshielded circuit within hundreds of miles. The concern that John expressed was of a hostile nation setting off two nuclear explosions high over the United States. The EMP would collapse the nation’s power grid.

With the destruction of the power grid, modern life stopped in America. Paul was shocked to learn that it would stay that way for years, as new transformers were moved in to replace the destroyed ones. The real shock was the discovery that the United States didn’t produce transformers anymore. That industry had been outsourced overseas.

“Paul, are you OK? You seem lost,” Amanda said as she walked up to where he stood. Paul looked at her and his eyes started to water up. If what he was thinking had happened, everyone’s life had totally changed last night. He looked at his two children who were browsing the shop. “What is it?” Amanda asked when she noticed Paul’s eyes.

Paul shook himself.
There was no need to raise a concern to everyone just yet. It may be just a fluke problem here at the Lodge
, he thought.

“Have you gotten in any airplanes today?” Paul asked the shopkeeper.

“No sir. Strangest thing. It’s been good flying weather and we had some guests scheduled to arrive today. Usually they’ve flown in by now. Must be having plane problems.”

You have no idea
, he thought.
With the Northern Lights last night, every circuit board will be gone. Unless it’s an old airplane before computers ran everything, no one would be flying in or out
.

“We need to get going,” Paul said. He realized that time worked against them if what he thought was true. He needed time to think. Everyone’s survival was at stake if things really were as they appeared.

“Dad, I wanted to get some candy,” Meredith said.

“No, we need to go now,” Paul barked. The seriousness of the potential situation descended on him.

The group all looked at Paul like spiders were coming out his nose. They were used to mild-mannered Dr. Paul. Even during the divorce, Paul had exhibited a calm demeanor. He knew the kids needed that stability.

“All right, let’s get going. If Paul says we need to move, we move,” Amanda said. The sternness in her voice got everyone moving.

Paul turned as he walked down to the raft and looked at this young woman he had found. That was a good sign from her. She would have to display that intensity if they were going to make it.

The next two days were decidedly different. Gone was the relaxed float through rapids they had experienced at the start of their trip. Now Paul pushed them hard. They floated all day until the light began fading. Then up at first light to eat, pack and climb onto the rafts.

The kayaks were even tied onto the back of the rafts so that more relief rowers were available. The kids had started to complain but Paul cut them right off. They were now flying down the river and ignoring their assigned campsites. They camped wherever they found themselves when daylight ran out.

Each night, the Northern Lights returned with a vengeance. At their arrival the second night, everyone began to realize that Paul’s behavior was somehow connected to the lights, but no one dared broach the subject with him. They were too tired each night to do anything besides eat and go to sleep.

Even Amanda left Paul alone. A grim determination to get off the river as soon as possible was evident. Paul tried to tell her what he thought had happened, but he couldn’t say anything until he was more certain.

The third day would bring that confirmation. Paul pushed on the oars as he willed the raft down the river. He was tired but had determined an action plan if today brought the answer he didn’t want. The Middle Fork soon joined the Main Salmon River and the group rowed hard for the takeout. As they came around the bend in the river, a fishing lodge appeared on the left bank, and a boat ramp on the right.

Cars and trucks were sitting in the parking lot. Some had their hoods up. Paul slumped in despair. Amanda jumped off the raft as they pulled onto the beach. She walked up the beach and tied the rope off to a tree. Paul and the others followed. The beach was covered with rafting gear from parties that had ended their trip, packed up and were waiting for their shuttles. Another rafting party had just pulled up on the beach and was already standing and talking.

“Howdy. Everything OK?” Paul asked.

“No, we paid to have our rigs shuttled down from Dagger Falls and they aren’t here yet. They were supposed to drop our rigs off Tuesday,” a rafter said.

“Well, I’m looking at the parking lot and I don’t see our rigs either,” Paul said.

Amanda had already scanned the parking lot and walked back with her arms raised, as if to say, ‘What gives?’

Paul walked over to one of the people with the hood up on his pickup.

“Having trouble?” Paul asked.

“Totally dead. The things only a year old and it just sits here,” the exasperated man said.

“How long have you been sitting here? Any cars come in while you’ve been here?” Paul asked.

“That’s what’s weird. We’ve been here two days now and no one has driven in. The lodge owner rowed over and said his telephone line to North Fork was out,” the man said. “The only vehicle we’ve seen was a woman driving an old ’64 Ford pickup that pulled in here the first day. She loaded up two guys with their raft and bolted.”

“And the Forest Service ranger hasn’t shown up to check in boaters?” Paul asked.

“Nobody has shown up here except that old Ford pickup.”

Paul knew all that he needed to know. He walked back to the beach and motioned his group together. He had to be careful now.

“Everyone jump back into the rafts. The ranger isn’t here today so we can head down the Main Salmon,” Paul said. He tried to put a positive spin on the news. “We get two raft trips this summer.”

“What about our shuttle? Our vehicles will be here to pick us up,” Meredith said.

“I said we run the Main. Now let’s go,” Paul said. He tried to not bark at his group, but he wanted them all moving.

“Dad, what is going on? You’re scaring me,” Meredith said.

“Come on. Your Daddy has a good reason for this. I’m sure he’ll tell us when he’s ready,” Amanda said. She took Meredith around the shoulders and started walking her to the raft. The others grew quiet and followed. They soon pushed off and lined up for the first rapid. They were now committing themselves to another seventy-nine miles of river until the next road.

When they were a few miles downstream, Paul motioned that it was time for a lunch stop. Everyone pulled on their oars and headed to a large sandy beach. They walked the food up to a large overhanging pine tree to eat in the shade.

“Before we break open the food, let me explain. What I saw at Corn Creek confirmed what I think has happened,” Paul started. Everyone stared as he explained a CME. He told them about his brother and the discussions they had had over the years.

“You mean that electricity doesn’t work anymore?” Meredith asked.

“No, electricity is still there, but everything that uses electricity is dead. At least everything that has a modern circuit. All the stuff before integrated circuits should still be working, but I don’t really know,” Paul said. He wasn’t an expert on this. He wished his brother was here to explain.

“So, going down the Main Salmon does what for us? We’ll have barely enough food even if we continue the pace we’ve been keeping,” Amanda said.

Paul liked this young woman more each moment. She had the intelligence to start thinking through their situation.

“We’re on our own right now. To get home to Boise, we’ll be walking. Floating down to Riggins gets us closer than starting in North Fork,” Paul said.

The group went quiet. Paul could tell they were all contemplating walking the distance from Riggins to Boise. He wasn’t sure, but it had to be close to two hundred miles. They would have to go on half rations to try and stretch their food supply.

“So, we’ll concentrate on eating the food that is heavy while on the river. We’ll save the lighter food for the walk,” Paul continued. “We should be able to get to Riggins in hopefully three days at the pace we’ve been keeping. Once there, we take just what we need to get home.”

“We leave all our rafting gear in Riggins?” one of the professors asked.

“Well, you’re free to take it with you, but we won’t be waiting for you,” Paul answered. Everyone looked down at the gravity of what he said. For a lifelong river runner to abandon his equipment spoke to the deadly serious situation in which they had found themselves.

They spent the next three days pushing hard on the oars, moving down the river. They met no other groups as they went, a sign that no one had put on the river since the CME had happened.

As they neared Riggins, Paul motioned everyone to pull toward shore. The light faded as they reached the beach. It had been five days since the lights went out and Paul was nervous about returning to civilization.

He knew that by now everyone would have figured out something big had happened. With no vehicles coming through town on Highway 95, the locals would have cleaned out the stores of food and supplies. Finding out how much civilization had abandoned Riggins was Paul’s main concern.

“We need to scout Riggins before we enter. Matt and I will walk from here to see if it’s safe to float down tomorrow. We’ll check if there’s any food left in town, too,” Paul said. He pulled his war surplus metal ammo can off the raft. It had been on every river trip he’d done over the years. It was used as a waterproof hard case to protect valuables inside. Paul pulled on the metal handle and opened it.

He pulled out his digital camera. He didn’t need that anymore. Then he moved the small cloth he had for the camera’s protection and pulled out a Glock 17. He reached down and grabbed a second clip and shoved both into his rafting shorts.

“Hold on. I know what that’s for. Do you think there’ll be that much trouble in town?” one professor asked.

“I don’t know, but I plan on protecting myself if there’s anyone bent on causing trouble,” Paul said.

“Well, I don’t like it. I’m sure the police have everything under control,” the professor said. The other three people from ISE chimed in their agreement.

Paul suddenly realized that these people were from the East Coast. He had been under pressure by his Board of Directors to diversify his staff and he had reluctantly gone recruiting back East. These two professors and their wives had been the most conservative of the bunch. Now their true persuasions were coming out.

“Just wait here. Matt and I will be back before midnight. If it looks clear, we’ll camp here tonight, float to town early in morning and head out south towards Boise,” Paul said.

“I’m not liking this one bit,” the wife of one of the professors said. “If it’s as dangerous as you say, what are you leaving with us for protection?”

Paul reached into his ammo can and pulled another cloth aside. He pulled out a Ruger SP101 revolver.

“If you’re from Idaho, I’ll assume you know how to use this?” Paul said and handed the handgun to Amanda.

“Five shot, .357 magnum. Hell of a kick. Short barrel. Get up close and personal before you pull the trigger. No problem,” Amanda quipped.

Paul smiled. What a woman. The others stepped back, not sure what to make of this sudden change in this demure woman that had been with them all week.

“Now, just so we don’t have any accidents in the dark when we come back, we need a password,” Paul said.

“Good grief,” one of the wives exclaimed. “And I suppose we need to dig foxholes, too.”

“Not a bad idea,” Paul threw back. “Ok, Matt. Let’s go see how western civilization is holding up.” He and Matt headed off into the dark. They found the gravel road leading towards Riggins. With the Northern Lights continuing to light the night sky, they didn’t have any difficulty finding their way.

Up ahead they saw light flickering. The slight evening breeze carried the smell of smoke up the river canyon. Paul suddenly stopped. The smoke didn’t have that woodsy smell given off by a wood fire. This smoke was the smell of many things burning. The smell of cars, tires and buildings burning. He tightened his grip on the Glock.

Australian Blight, 200 miles south of Walpole, Western Australia

The forty-foot Cheoy Lee ketch leaped as another following wave lifted her stern and powered her down another trough. Desmond fought the wheel on the big boat as the speed accelerated and the hum in the rudder shot up through the wheel to his arms. His whole body vibrated as the sailboat crashed into the bottom.

The climb up the next wave caused the speed to drop as the bow buried itself into the front of the wave. Spray flew up and over Desmond standing in his rain gear in the cockpit of the big boat. He ducked as the water flew at him, hitting him in the hood of his foul weather gear.

He fought the boat to keep it on course as it crested the next wave and broke free for a run down the back side. Again the whole boat vibrated as the speed increased. Desmond waited for the sudden crash at the bottom and braced himself for the impact. His safety harness tightened as he leaned forward in reaction to the boat hitting the next wave.

Desmond was bone tired. This was their third day of forty knot winds and large rolling seas. Luckily, they were running with the wind and not trying to fight their way into it. But as skipper, he had to make sure the sailboat didn’t bury its bow too deeply into the trough and pitch pole, or flip over, end-to-end.