Free The Pulse: An EMP Prepper Survival Tale by Roger Hayden Page A

vehicle was in park and tried
again. The SUV wouldn't start, and Janice had no clue why. She
tried the engine ten more times, getting nothing. She tried it in
neutral, reverse, and drive to no effect. Her hand was tired from
turning the key so many times. She walked back to the building in a
daze as her boss greeted her sarcastically.
    "Little bit of car trouble?" he asked.
    "Looks like I'm not the only one," she
answered, signaling to the motionless gridlock on the highway.

    Mark pedaled home in haste, hoping that, for
some unexplainable reason, Janice hadn't left for work yet. As he
rode up their driveway, he saw that her car was gone. Mark thought
for a moment, considering whether to drive their bug-out vehicle to
Janice's office and rescuing her. But maybe her car worked after
all. Maybe she got lucky. Mark didn't know the range of EMP blasts.
He didn't know if its effects had spread across town, across the
state, or over the entire country. He noticed his elderly next-door
neighbor sitting on his front porch swing. Mark stepped off his
bike, practically drenched in sweat. He had taken off his suit
jacket and rolled up his sleeves, but there was no escaping the
sweltering heat. He checked his cell phone again. It was still
dead. His neighbor looked peaceful on his porch swing, in perfect
contrast to the chaos Mark had fled.
    "How's it going, Mr. Harper?" Mark
called.
    Mr. Harper leaned forward on his cane and
squinted. He worse a short-sleeved buttoned-up shirt tucked into
his dress pants, colorful red suspenders, and a braided sun hat. He
fanned himself leisurely with a paper fan.
    "I'm doing fine, how about yourself?" he
said.
    Mark walked closer and stood under the shade
of Mr. Harper's chestnut tree.
    "Doing all right. Bit of a scare today with
the power. It's like some kind of blackout. How are you holding up
here?" Mark hoped that Mr. Harper would say that the power was
running fine.
    "Blackout?" Mr. Harper said. "I didn't even
notice it. Just been sitting on my porch drinking some sweet tea."
Mr. Harper held up a glass and finished the last of it. Just
looking at the empty glass made Mark thirsty. He had to get inside
to see everything for himself. Whatever was happening, Mr. Harper
was oblivious to it.
    "Well, I gotta pick Janice up from work. I'll
see you later, Mr. Harper," Mark said, waving.
    "You tell her I said hello," and he began
swinging back-and-forth.
    "Sure will," Mark responded. He walked up the
steps into his home and unlocked the front door, hoping to find by
a cool, air-conditioned living room when he stepped inside. That
wasn't the case. The power was out. Mark walked around the living
room, dining room, and kitchen checking each appliance. Nothing
worked. He opened the refrigerator and looked in. Only darkness.
The motor wasn't running, and it would be only a matter of time
before all the food inside spoiled. Mark leaned against the counter
thinking to himself.
    “What are we going to do?” Mark muttered out
loud. “What in the hell are we going to do?”
    He thought of their food storage in the
basement and how most of it was expired. He thought of their money,
their assets, and their online accounts. He thought of ATMs, and
not having in cash, and looters. The banks would soon be the most
chaotic places imaginable, next to the supermarkets and gas
stations. The bug-out house was a consolation to his worries. Mark
considered their options. He needed Janice's input. Traveling to
Milledgeville and leaving their home behind was a huge step, but a
necessary one if things got worse.
    Mark went to their backyard shed. He opened
the wooden double-doors and found their bug-out parked inside,
covered with layers of dust and grime. They owned an American
classic: a red 1970 Plymouth Road Runner with a rear spoiler and
lots of attitude. The door squeaked open, and Mark climbed into the
driver's seat.
    He wasn't surprised to find that the car
wouldn't start. He hoped simply because the battery was dead.