Tim Washburn - Cyber Attack

“No, but I hear good things about her. I was talking to one of my other friends who taught under her last year. She really likes her.” Renata looks around to make sure the kids are out of earshot. “Hey, I brought a pitcher of frozen sangria swirl. Want some?”

“I would love some.” Loretta fans herself with her hand. “Is this heat ever going away?”

“Someday, but this will help, today.” Renata pulls out a plastic cup and pours some sangria swirl and passes it to Loretta. “I’m just glad the school is air-conditioned.”

“Thank you,” Loretta says, taking the cup. “Me, too.” She takes a sip and smacks her lips. “This is perfect.”

It’s not long before other mothers drift over and they huddle together on the blankets, gossiping as the children play. Renata pours more sangria swirl for the new arrivals. They sip and talk and laugh as the children dart in for food before taking off again. As it turns out, two other mothers had thought ahead and packed containers of frozen adult beverages and, when the sangria swirl runs out, they break out a pitcher of frozen margaritas. Other than the heat, Loretta thinks, it’s turning out to be an ideal afternoon.

Down the street at CleanCal, the day crew is trying to troubleshoot some balky pumps. Sitting in the plant’s control room, Mark Perry, one of the plant engineers, is keeping a close eye on pump speeds and tank pressures. Watching a graphic display of real-time activity at the plant on a large video screen, Perry does not like what he’s seeing. He turns to the shift supervisor for the regular employees, Dennis Nelson, and says, “Dennis, you’re going to have to dial those pumps back.”

Nelson is busy working a keyboard. “We’re trying, Mark. The network is awfully sluggish.”

“How long has that been going on?” Perry asks, concern in his voice. The last thing they need now is a sluggish computer network.

“The last hour or so. It’s weird,” Nelson says.

“You talk to the IT guys?”

“Yes. They’re looking into it.”

An alarm sounds and Perry looks up at the screen. “Pressure’s too high, Dennis. Kill the power to the pumps at the ammonia tank.”

“The computer isn’t responding to any of my commands, Mark.”

Perry snatches up a phone and dials a three-digit number, one of the plant’s phone extensions. He wedges the phone between his shoulder and neck as he works the keyboard. “We need to bleed off some of the pressure, Dennis.” The phone isn’t answered until the sixth damn ring and Perry, hot under the collar, barks out an order to manually shut down the pumps to the ammonia tank. Perry knows he needs to bleed off some pressure, but now he’s in a pickle. He risks serious injury to the plant workers if he bleeds off the ammonia vapors while they’re in the area. Perry punches up a camera inside the plant to check on the workers’ progress, as the pressure nudges into the red.

“They’re working way too slow, Dennis. Get on the horn and light a fire under their asses,” Perry says, his eyes glued to the video screen.

Nelson grabs a handheld radio and urges the employees to hurry it up.

Perry, watching the pressure continuing to build, stands from his chair. “Dennis, we’re going to be in a hell of a mess in about fifteen seconds.”

“We’re trying, Mark.”

“Then try harder.” Perry, watching the workers on the camera, sees one of them shake his head. “Dennis, stand by to bleed the pressure.” He reaches across the console and hits a button that sounds a warning horn throughout the plant. “Hurry up, damn it,” he mutters as the workers scurry to safety. He glances up at the monitor displaying tank pressure. It’s as high as he’s ever seen it. “Now, Dennis,” he shouts.

“The EPA is going to fine us,” Nelson says, his finger hovering over the button.

“I don’t care. Hit the fucking button.”

Nelson does, releasing a cloud of ammonia into the air. The pressure in the tank begins to drop and Perry sags into his chair.

“Jesus,” Nelson says.

“What?” Perry asks, his eyes scanning the large video screen, searching for problems.

“Look at the chlorine tank numbers.”

Perry does and his stomach flip-flops. “What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t—oh no,” Nelson mutters.

Perry glances up at the big screen. “What?”

“Several of the bypass valves are opening and I have no control.”

Loretta is buzzed. And that’s something that surprises her because she is not a heavy drinker and she never drinks during the day. However, she is having a good time having adult conversations for once. She drains the last of her margarita and is reaching for the pitcher of strawberry daiquiris when she spots Mateo running up.

“Mom, what’s that smell?” Mateo asks.

Loretta sniffs. “Smells like a cleaner or something.” She glances over at the school to see if the maintenance workers are doing some work inside. They’ll often do a thorough cleaning before school starts and during holiday breaks. But judging from the empty parking lot the odor is not coming from the school. Loretta waves a hand at her son. “Go play. It’s nothing.”

Mateo shrugs and takes off again.

Several moments later, Loretta notices the smell is getting stronger. She looks over at her friend Renata. “Do you smell that?”

Renata sniffs. “Smells like ammonia.” Several of the other mothers begin to notice the smell.

“What is that?” someone else asks as several of the women stand.

Without warning, a siren blares from somewhere down the street. Loretta pushes to her feet and stumbles forward, grabbing on to Renata to keep from falling. She glances at the sky, thinking bad weather had crept up on them. But the skies are clear, no storm clouds in sight. Dulled by the alcohol, Loretta stumbles around, shouting for her sons, trying to get a handle on the situation. Other mothers begin yelling for their children.

The siren stutters and, a millisecond later, an immense explosion rips through the quiet afternoon, drowning out the mothers’ pleas. Loretta looks to the east to see a cloud of smoke ballooning high in the air. She turns away and hurries across the playground, desperate to find Mateo and Gabriel. As the cloud of smoke drifts overhead, Loretta’s eyes begin to sting and her sinuses begin to burn, her breathing becoming more labored.

Putting a hand up to shield the sun, Loretta slows, searching desperately for her sons. The ammonia smell is now laced with something else. Loretta tries to put her finger on what it is. Then she does and her blood runs cold. Chlorine! She’s done enough cleaning in her day to know the dangers of combining ammonia and chlorine, but Loretta doesn’t know the chloramine vapors are four times heavier or that the toxic mix is now sinking down over the park.

Unfortunately it’s not only the chloramine Loretta needs to worry about. As the molecules from both the chlorine and ammonia continue to react, the ongoing chemical reaction spins off two other nasty substances—hydrazine and hydrochloric acid, making the falling mist of vapors a lethal fog of certain death.

Her vision blurry, Loretta stumbles across the open field. She thinks she sees Mateo on the other side of the field and she attempts to shout his name. But this time she can’t inhale enough air to stimulate her vocal cords and the shout comes out as a croak. Still a good distance away from her oldest son, she moans with despair as Mateo clutches his throat and sinks to his knees. Loretta’s brain is screaming for her to hurry as she closes her eyes and opens them again, furiously wiping her eyes in an attempt to clear her vision. Her foot catches on a tree root and Loretta tumbles to the ground.