G Hopf - The End

“Yep, I hope we get a chance. I want to put one in their nasty grape too,” Tomlinson said.

“I just wish we weren’t going to the East Coast. I wish we were going back home. I know my brother will take care of everything but I want to be there to help him. God knows what kind of crazy shit is going on,” Sebastian said.

“What do you mean, bro?” Tomlinson asked, sitting down on his cot next to his half-filled sea bag. He pulled a tin of Copenhagen out and began tapping it. Tomlinson was tall and very thin. He had reddish hair and fair skin. His face was covered in old scars from acne. He didn’t take much pride in his appearance. He was the opposite of Sebastian, who made sure he was always squared away and put together.

“Look at what happened to New Orleans after Katrina or what kind of crazy shit happens during blackouts. People go fucking crazy when the lights go out and stay out. There’s no law and order. It’s a recipe for disaster and mob rule.”

“Really bro, you think people will start going crazy back home?”

“Yes I do. Most people are idiots, so if there is no power, there is no water, no food, no medical supplies, the list goes on. This is not good. Everything will go south, trust me, and here we are in fucking Afghanistan, heading to the East Coast. We need to be going back home to help our friends and family.”

“You’re right, bro’ my girlfriend can barely even program the DVR to watch her stupid House Hookers of Orange County show. Not to mention she never keeps food in the house.” Tomlinson said with a chuckle.

“Tomlinson, what has happened is bad, very bad. An EMP destroys everything electrical. Millions and millions of people will die and the only way to help our families, friends and stupid girlfriends is to be there, not all the way on the other coast,” Sebastian was getting himself worked up, he tossed the items he had in his hands onto the cot.

“Well not much we can do, Van Zandt, we have our orders and it’s back east,” Tomlinson stated, shaking his head side to side.

“I know, and I fucking hate it.” Sebastian sat down on his cot, clearly angry and frustrated.

San Diego, CA

“The car is dead, the battery still works but the car won’t turn over,” Gordon told Samantha as he walked in from the garage.

“So what are we going to do for transportation?” Samantha asked.

“Here’s my plan. Right now it’s been about two hours since the attack. Most people don’t know what’s going on, I’m going to take advantage of the ignorance and go to the store and get as much stuff as I can before people start to freak out and clear it out,” Gordon said as he walked toward his office.

“How are you going to get there?” Samantha followed him into his office.

Gordon grabbed his desk chair and positioned it underneath attic space opening. He stood on the chair and pushed it open. Dust and insulation fell onto his face.

“Damn it,” he sputtered in between coughs as he spit out debris. He reached up and fished around till he felt what he was looking for.

“What are you hiding up there?” Samantha asked curiously.

“Something we’ll need,” he said stepping off of the chair and placing an ammo can on his desk. He looked at Samantha, winked, and opened the can.

“Cash? You hid this from me? You never told me you were hiding cash and, by the looks of it, a lot of it.”

“I may not have been prepared for this type of situation, but I prepared for an economic crash. Good thing I was paranoid about that, because now it will at least come in handy until people realize that it has zero value,” Gordon said pulling out stacks of cash.

“How much do we have?” Samantha asked picking up a stack and thumbing it like a deck of cards.

“About $75,000,” he answered.

“What? Where did we get that?”

“It’s our retirement money,” he answered, feeling a bit guilty. He had taken it out in October before the markets crashed. With hindsight on his side, his guilt melted away and he felt proud of his decision.

“I knew you were getting nervous, but when were you planning on telling me?” Samantha reached into the can and pulled out another stack.

“I don’t know, but does it really matter now? I need to take some cash with me to the store and buy as much as I can,” he said, putting a small stack in his pocket. He put the rest back in the ammo can, closed it, and placed it back in his hiding spot.

“So here’s the plan, I’m going to ride my mountain bike to Albertson’s. I’m going to wear a pack, attach the basket from the kids’ playroom on the front handle bar, and attach the kids’ trailer on the back. That will give me a lot of space to bring food and supplies back. What I need from you is to make sure the kids do not use the toilets anymore and keep this in close proximity,” he handed her his favorite Sig Sauer handgun and then started for the garage to prepare for his trip.

Oklahoma City, OK

“Excuse me, sir,” the hospital administrator looked nervous about interrupting Conner and his wife, who were still sitting next to the bed which held their dead son. But he felt he needed to because the situation in the hospital was deteriorating. He hoped the Speaker could leverage his power and influence to get something done.

Conner lifted his head and looked toward the door.

“Yes,” Conner said, his voice was labored and his face was filled with sadness.

“Sir, excuse me for the interruption at this most painful moment; but I was wondering if I could have a minute of your time?”

Julia did not look up at all; she rested her head against her son’s hand. Conner stood up and walked toward the hospital administrator.

When Conner reached him, he put his hand on his shoulder and led him out of the room into the still dark hallway. The hospital was even more chaotic than before. Everyone was panicked and confused; flashlight beams darted around in the darkness. Everyone was busy, but no one seemed to actually be accomplishing anything.

“Yes, how can I help?” Conner asked.

“Sir, let me again express my condolences for your son’s loss. We are trying as hard as we can to get power back up, but nothing is working.”

“What is wrong with the generators?” Conner asked.

“That’s just it, the hospital’s generators are hardwired into the electrical system and they won’t turn on, they’re dead. The other troubling thing, sir, is that no one’s phones will work. That includes our staff’s personal mobile phones. Their cars don’t start either. We tried to send some of our staff to Home Depot to buy some portable generators, but their cars just won’t start.”

Conner interrupted him and asked, “Nothing works?”

“Yes, sir.”

Conner had been so consumed with his son death that he had lost track of time and what was going on. He grabbed his own mobile phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen; it was completely dead. He tried turning it on, nothing. He then started walking down the hallway to the nurses’ station.

“Sir?” the hospital administrator asked, following him briskly.

When he reached the station he leaned over and grabbed a phone, it was dead; he started clicking around to get a line, nothing. He dropped the phone and walked to a large window in the elevator lobby, which looked out over the large parking lot. He saw people by their cars, hoods up. Nothing was moving at all. He then looked at the horizon and noticed the smoke rising from various parts of the city.

As he scanned up and down the lot, he saw movement; an old pickup truck pulled up to the hospital ER entrance. He looked closer; it was an old F-100 Ford pickup. The driver jumped out, ran over to the passenger side and started pulling someone out who obviously needed medical attention. He stood there for another minute before he finally snapped out of his trance and realized that something very serious had happened. As he turned and ran, he bumped into the administrator, but continued down the hall to his son’s room.