G Hopf - The End

“Julia, Julia?” he said as he ran into the room.

“What?” she looked up quickly, she could tell by the sound in his voice that something was wrong. “Brad what is it?”

“We have to go!” he said authoritatively. “NOW!”

“I am not going anywhere,” she said, squeezing her son’s hand tighter. “What’s wrong?”

“Julia, I need you to come now!” he demanded grabbing her arm.

She pulled away from him and protested, “No, I’m not leaving Bobby!”

“Listen, we have been attacked. The city has been attacked!”

“What?”

“That’s why there’s no power. We’ve been attacked. We have to go,”

“Brad, I am not leaving. You can go and come back for me later; but I’m not leaving until we make arrangements for Bobby.”

He paused, frustrated and unsure of what to do. He considered forcing her, but that would only cause problems. She’d at least be safe at the hospital, and he’d come back for her as soon as he could. “Okay, you stay here but I need to go back to the hotel and get Dylan and find out what is going on. I’ll have the hospital make the arrangements to move Bobby’s body to Tinker Air Force base as soon as we can find transportation that works.”

Defeated and tired, Julia sat back down next to her son’s bed. “Okay,” she replied without even looking at Brad.

Conner stood for a brief moment, feeling torn. He wanted to stay but knew he must go. Knowing something terrible had happened, he needed to find out what. He turned and left the room. Finding the hospital administrator, he gave him instructions on how to handle his wife and pledged that he would return with support. Time was of the essence, remembering the truck from moments before he ran toward the bay window and looked down. The old truck was still there. Not wasting a moment, he located the staircase and ran for it.

Cautiously moving down the darkened stairwell, he thought to himself that maybe this one time he should have had his protective detail with him. Leaving them at the hotel with his aide made sense before, but now he regretted that decision. Reaching the ground level, he opened the door and ran down the hall. The scene downstairs was similar to that of his son’s floor, complete disarray. People were all around looking at their phones, many lined up at the information station asking questions of a couple of overwhelmed volunteers who were just stating the hospital’s canned response that the power would soon be restored. He knew better. He found an exit and made it out onto the curb. To his right, the old truck sat idling in front of the ER entrance. He ran to the truck, peered inside and saw blood on the passenger’s seat. The driver’s window was down and he saw the door was unlocked. Without hesitation, he grabbed the handle, swung it open, and jumped behind the wheel. He threw it in gear, slammed down on the accelerator, and took off out of the hospital parking lot and toward the hotel.

San Diego, CA

“Here, Daddy, let me help,” Hunter walked into the garage and toward Gordon.

Gordon was pumping up the tires on his mountain bike; he stopped and looked up, “Okay son, come here; fast now, I have to go.”

Hunter walked over and placed his small hands on top of the manual pump. Gordon slowly brought the pump handle down and up, the tire expanded, and the joy of helping his father was making Hunter’s day. Together they pumped up the tires on the bike and trailer.

Looking at Hunter, Gordon felt proud. His son wanted nothing more but to contribute. He tousled Hunter’s brown hair. Hunter had Gordon’s look, light colored eyes and dark hair. He was tall for his age, but had a strong, lean build for being only 7 years old.

“Thank you, Hunter; here, finish up by putting the pump back,”

“Okay, Daddy,” Hunter responded, cradling the pump and walking it over to the cabinet.

“Hunter, when you’re done with that I need you to help Daddy with something else.”

Hunter quickly put away the pump and came running over. “What, Daddy?”

“I am leaving in a few minutes to go get some things at the store. Please promise me you’ll help Mommy with anything she asks and take care of your little sister. Okay?” Gordon knelt down to meet Hunter’s eyes.

“Okay, Daddy, when are you coming back?”

“Soon son, I promise. Now can you promise me what I asked?”

“I promise,” Hunter felt important since his father had given him some responsibility.

“Thank you,” Gordon replied. He gave Hunter a big hug and kissed him on the cheek, “Run on in now and see what you can do to help your mother.”

Hunter opened the door and stepped in, but before the door could close behind him, he poked his head out again. “Daddy, can you get some ice cream?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Gordon said with a smile. This made Gordon feel more protective; he wanted to ensure his kids’ innocence remained as long as it could.

Gordon stuffed some cash in a fanny pack which already held his Sig Sauer P239 pistol. He also packed a small first aid kit, water, and a headlamp. He put on his pack and walked the bike with trailer out of the garage. After manually closing the garage door behind him, he looked down his street. Many of his neighbors were out in front of their homes. Some were holding their phones, still attempting with no luck to get them to work; others were working on their cars. It was now late morning and people still had no clue what was going on. He knew he had a small window of time to get more supplies before the real panic set in. He climbed on his bike and started his trek toward the store.

As he rode, he kept going over a mental list of what he needed to get. He wanted to make sure he picked up what was important and what would last. He wasn’t sure how long it would be before all hell broke loose and everything would be gone. His quick thinking about the water could help them last longer. He knew he should tell his neighbors, but not until he returned from the store with what he needed first. As he rode on, he passed disabled car after car. Most had now been abandoned.

When Gordon pulled into the Albertson’s parking lot, the scene was basically the same as on the streets. He saw many cars with their hoods up. People just standing around and talking, they all just seemed to be waiting for the power to come back, something Gordon knew that would not happen anytime soon. He quickly thought to himself about how as a society we all had become dependent and interdependent on our system and the comforts of having easily available electricity. Once people found out what had happened, he knew widespread panic would descend upon the city. This was Gordon’s only opportunity to secure vital resources.

The front doors were shut with a handwritten sign taped on which read, “Closed Due to Power Outage”

He parked the bike next to a large column, jumped off and walked quickly back to the trailer; he opened a pouch on the side and pulled out a small chain and lock. He chained and locked the bike and trailer to the column. With most cars not working, his bike might be tempting to steal.

He walked up to the doors and looked inside; it was hard to see far. He looked from left to right seeing if anyone was still in there. He started to knock loudly. After a full minute of knocking, someone finally emerged from the darkness and walked up to the doors. The gentleman looked like he might be a manager. He pointed at the handwritten sign. Gordon acknowledged that and then held up a wad of cash. The man stared at Gordon’s hand, wide-eyed, paused, and then pried the doors open.

“What can I help you with, sir?” the grocery store manager asked.

“I need to get some supplies, I understand you’re closed but I have cash and I can pay extra…if you know what I mean,” Gordon said quietly, leaning in close to the manager for the last part.