Above the Hush Read online

  “So how does the …” West paused dramatically and looked at her. “The Ladka Event compare to that? You discovered it, I’m going to call it that.”

  “That is so nice of you,” I said. “I like it much better just saying an event.”

  Jane looked at me for a split second as if I were a crackpot. “The … Ladka … It makes Carrington look like a snowflake, Dwarfs it in magnitude. I told everyone this. Once they let me go I continued to watch it. After a while I started using the old techniques like Richard Carrington did, because I wanted to be able to predict and watch without the aid of computers.”

  “So this is everywhere?” West asked.

  Jane nodded. “It wasn’t at first. For example, India. That was a smaller one, more like a flare, it was the warning shot, I called it. I was on CNN that night, after India. They sort of ridiculed me in a subtle way. But I told them another one was coming in the next twenty-four hours and that I was going off the grid, and others should do the same. The effects of the CME moved across the globe, others had warning, but I don’t think they knew to step away from electronics.”

  “How did you?” Shane question. “I mean, you said you were going off grid, how did you know this would happen?”

  “Research,” Jane replied. “Actually, I can’t take credit. Tesla saw this coming.”

  “The car people predicted this?” I asked.

  “Tesla the man,” she said. “Nikole Tesla, born about three years before Carrington. It was an obsession of his. He was a great man of science and electricity. A good analogy would be, if Thomas Edison was Stephen Hawking, then Nikola Tesla was William Sidis.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  “Exactly,” she said. “Tesla was a bit of an eccentric.”

  “And rude,” West added. “He was pretty rude, hated overweight people, had nothing nice to say about Edison.”

  “Don’t forget he died a virgin,” Jane said.

  I shook my head. “What does that have to do with anything?’

  “Nothing.” She shrugged. “Anyhow, my hypothesis was based on his theories that earth hinged on a pole shift and one huge geomagnetic storm could toss it over the line. But north wouldn’t just be south, positive would be negative. Like with a thunderstorm, the polarity reverses. Severe outputs at high voltage, the surge in the system would be deadly for anyone five feet or closer to a live appliance. On or not, if it was plugged in, they would die.”

  “What about disasters?” I asked. “I heard that pole shifting causes major natural disasters.”

  “That is not true,” Jane said. “Scare tactics. I’d say look it up, but you rely on the internet.”

  We were full of questions, each of us firing them off, but there was one important one. If she was indeed an expert, what was her opinion on it all? Was it done? Was it over?

  “Not by a long shot,” she said. “The sun is active and a geomagnetic storm usually lasts ten days. All these storms are leading up to another massive CME, this one bigger than the last. And whatever remains working as far as electronics and generators, it will finish off with such a force, ten feet will be too close.”

  As soon as she said that, my thoughts went to the nuclear reactors. How West said it had generators that would be protected from events like Carrington and Ladka, but if Jane was correct, and the last CME would be the worst, the cores weren’t just going to melt, chances were, it was going to blow.

  I prayed my family wasn’t anywhere near.

  24 – ROLLING

  Jane knew the area, she traveled it a lot often making her way to the other observatory in Charlottesville. When we told her of our plight, she decided to go with us. She knew of several camps on the way, and even some on I-64, where I hoped I’d find my family.

  She suggested that we first visit the camp ten miles north, they had a doctor there.

  I thought West was impressive with his knowledge, but Jane trumped him, she seemed to be one step ahead of everything. I felt like a little kid being allowed to hang out with a super cool teenager.

  West grew defensive.

  We shared with her our concerns about the North Anna Nuclear power plant.

  “I thought of that already,” she said.

  West didn’t believe her. “Really. You thought of that?”

  “I did. In fact, I think it probably already started to leak.”

  West shook his head. “They are built to protect against such events as these.”

  “You never know. I’m monitoring me, though.” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a credit card size orange card. “Personal dosimeter. It reads safe now. Do you have one? I’ll get you one, I have an extra in my case.” She crinkled her brow and stepped away, stating she needed to get some items for the trip.

  West grumbled at her, then looked at me. “What?”

  “Nothing. Nothing.” I held up my hands in defense.

  He stormed away.

  “Wow, that was fast. One second they get along, the next, they don’t.” I said to Shane.

  “Intelligent people are competitive,” Shane replied. “You heard that story they talked about with Edison and Tesla. They can theorize all they want. But when it’s all said and done.” Shane winked. “We’re gonna need plumbing. I’ll be the cool person then.”

  I laughed for a moment, then it hit me. What would my role be? What could I possibly bring to the table, especially since it was inevitable I’d be without a hand? I had no useful skills, heck, I went to a premade prepper camp for wannabe preppers.

  Ken had skills, he could build things.

  Michael was a good laborer, a hard worker, that was when he had a job and was sober.

  My son.

  I know what West and Shane believed, but a part of me kept going back to the pessimistic attitude that something was wrong with my son.

  When it was time to roll Jane had packed a briefcase with her items and refused to get into the Dodge Dart. She had her own means of transportation.

  “We have a warning system,” West told her, showing her the hearing aid.

  “I do, too.” She held up a meter. “Just like you pop the hearing aid from your ear, I pop out the battery. “I’m good. I don’t need it on my journey though.”

  Which was true. She had a horse drawn cart she had gotten from the Amish when she was making her way north from her home in Raleigh, North Carolina.

  I was hopeful when she told me that. After all, to the best of my knowledge the Amish didn’t use electricity.

  Jane clarified that for the most part they did not, but their stores they maintained on the outskirts of the communities did, and she found herself having to explain to them what occurred.

  I opted to ride with Jane.

  “You’re injured,” West said to me. “That cart can not be more comfortable than the car.”

  “Have you ever ridden in the back seat of a Dodge Dart?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Then you can’t make that statement. I’ll be fine. We’ll be behind you.”

  In truth, that Amish buggy was more comfortable then the Dodge. We followed behind them at a good pace and even though they ended up out of our sight, I was happy with my travel choice.

  We’d meet up at the first camp, that was the plan. It was one road, one way. No way to lose them.

  I didn’t want to make West feel badly, him and Shane were good to me and saved my life. But I really wanted to talk to Jane. I just wanted some female company. I thought I made the right choice and that her and I related on some level. Then when I asked why she was headed north in the first place I knew.

  “I knew it was dangerous territory,” she told me. “I started like you guys. With an old car. I knew the risks. But I had to find my son. He lived in Lynchburg. A hotel manager there. A little older than you. Not much. I got the buggy right before that when I couldn’t make it across the highway.”

  “And did you? Did you find him?”

  Jane stared outward as she drove. “Yes. I foun
d him. He didn’t make it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too. A mother isn’t supposed to outlive her child. She isn’t.”

  I lowered my head.

  “I told him the night before, please, no electronics for a few days. I called him right after India, after I was on the news.”

  “Why didn’t he listen?”

  “Oh, he did. I went to his house, everything was off. Unfortunately, he went to work in the morning. You can’t go without power in a hotel. He was doing his job. But he listened. Sons they may act like they don’t, but they do. They listen.”

  “My son doesn’t. At times he hates me, or says he does. People … people say it’s the stuff he’s putting in his body, the alcohol, it’s that talking. But I still hear my son.”

  “And he hears you.” Jane reached over and placed her hand on mine. “We’ll find your family. They survived the … Ladka, they’re alive.”

  “They went east. That’s all I have.”

  “They’re together with people, they know the risks, they’re in a camp, they’re fine.”

  She talked about the camps she had seen in her search for others that could help her confirm her findings and fears. The camps were more like refugee hubs, people sharing food and knowledge. Some set up in parking lots of big stores, with one of two people watching over resources. Most camps she had run into had been set up quickly. Away from the power grids of the cities.

  We were close to one that was ahead at the intersection of the road we were on and I-64.

  My heart stopped the second we rounded a bend and I saw the Dodge Dart stopped in the middle of the road. It faced backwards as if it had spun.

  “No,” I whispered out. “No.”

  Jane brought the buggy to a stop. “That’s an old car. The ignition could go, that wouldn’t create a death sentence.” She got down from the buggy.

  It took me a little longer. Every move hurt and I tried to put on a pretense of strength, I didn’t want her to think I was weak. Aside from the pain in my hand and chest, my heart hurt thinking about Shane and West.

  Then my heart felt like it stopped again when I saw Shane and West emerge from the car. I exhaled so hard it sent my body forward, and I grabbed for my knees.

  “What’s going on?” Jane shouted.

  They walked toward us.

  “You okay?” Shane asked, reached out to me.

  I nodded.

  “We wanted to get to you first,” West said.

  “What for?” Jane asked.

  “We found that camp you were talking about. We estimate around thirty people. A few kids,” West said. “We turned around and came back here to wait for you.”

  I smiled. “That’s about how many left my town.” The smile on my face quickly fell when I noticed West looking so serious. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re gonna have to come and see if you recognize anyone. It’ll be hard, I know, but at least we can rule it out.”

  “What … what are you talking about?” I asked. “What do you mean recognize them?”

  “As I said, we found the camp.” West shifted his eyes from Shane to Jane, then again to me. “They’re all dead.”

  25 – ARROWHEAD

  It was my cross to bear, my burden to carry. I don’t even think Shane or West could have completed the task.

  When I arrived at my home, I couldn’t bring myself to walk through that door … they did.

  When I needed to search for Michael, I was injured. So … they did.

  The campsite, just a few miles north of a place called Arrowhead, was my call and my obligation. My eyes were needed. I had to go into the camp and see if it was the people from my town, if my family was there.

  Before the discovery of the dead camp, we had stopped at a place called Pippin Vineyards, the beauty of it was breathtaking with vast green lands, picturesque buildings and flowing streams. I kept the beauty of that place in my mind as we headed toward the ugliness that I knew lay ahead.

  The camp was located in a clearing. It wasn’t far from a church, and looked more like a retreat area. The small rectangular cabin structures reminded me of Michael’s camp days in the Boy Scouts.

  It looked like tents had been set up around the fire pit.

  I didn’t need to be a scientist or genius to know what happened to the camp. I could smell it before I even saw it.

  A burnt smell filled the air and mixed with it was the smell of the bodies rotting in the Virginia heat. Bodies that weren’t burned beyond recognition.

  The bodies were everywhere. Some looked as if they ran while on fire, landing not far from the buildings, the clothes burned from them while a huge charred area encircled the remains.

  It was a horrible way to go. Their mouths were still open, as if they died mid-gasp, mid-scream for help.

  Where did I even begin?

  Nearly every person looked the same, a blackened, hairless body, touting a pain filled final expression.

  I began my search and task to look at every person.

  “What would have done this?” I heard Shane ask.

  “Another surge,” West replied. “They were using generators.”

  “When Carrington hit,” Jane said. “Telegraph operators were shocked and combustibles ignited from the sparks. I’m guessing this is what happened here.”

  At first, I wondered if it really matter ‘how’ it happened, then I realized it did. With every deadly mistake others made I would be educated on what to avoid.

  I wept. Making my way around camp, I looked at each body, studying what I could of the face trying to find some familiarity. The bodies of the young destroyed me. Those poor babies.

  It took me over an hour, but no one looked familiar. I even went through belongings trying to find something that confirmed or ruled out my hometown. I didn’t.

  The horrible aching reality was, even though I looked at everybody, even though I believed I didn’t see my family, I wouldn’t know. Not for certain.

  For most of the victims, their identity and what they really looked like was singed away by the flames of a fire.

  It was emotionally exhausting and physically taxing for me. I was tired and irritated. I wanted answers now and just wasn’t getting them.

  I shook my head after checking the last body and started walking back to the road.

  “Hey, hey,” Shane caught up to me. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah, sorry.”

  “Maybe I should get the car,” he suggested. “You aren’t well.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, Audrey, you are …”

  “I’m fine.” I snapped, then took a second to calm down. “I’m sorry, that was wrong.”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  “It’s not.”

  West and Jane caught up to us.

  “You doing alright?” West reached out.

  I shifted my eyes to Shane, then West. “Yeah, I am.”

  “It’s only one of many camps,” Jane said. “When we go to the camps you need to ask. Ask around. You’ll be surprised what people know. It’s early. Everyone is still frazzled. They aren’t thinking clearly.”

  “Obviously. I keep saying it, rehashing it, but I don’t understand why everyone just left their homes,” I said. “Stay put. I know you said stay away from the grid, but if there is no power, what danger is there?”

  Jane explained. “Land lines don’t need power. They don’t. Yet, if you are on a landline during a thunderstorm it is conceivable you can get electrocuted. Lightning strikes the ground, the lines are a conductor. The same goes at home. Who is to say that a single appliance plugged in won’t cause a fire when a surge from the CME blasts through. No one knows for certain what it can do. These people here played it safe, but were dumb at the same time.”

  “We push forward,” said West. “The colonel here wants to head to Leander Observatory at the University. I think it would be a great stopping point for the day. There’s at least one other camp on
the way there.”

  I nodded my agreement as I continued to walk.

  “You know,” Jane said. “Something else to think of. This man, your neighbor, he never specifically mentioned your family.”

  “I didn’t ask.”

  “Maybe they didn’t go east. Now ...” she held up her hand. “I’m not saying this because one camp was a bust, I’m saying this because you don’t know for sure. I do know for sure that there is a huge medical camp run by the Army Reserves on their base and it’s at the regional airport. They may not be fully aware of the ‘why’ things happened, but they are operating as if it’s two hundred years ago. Another ten miles west is a base camp at the National Guard.”

  “Okay. Why are you saying this?”

  “I’m saying this because you don’t know if they went east for sure. One of them could be injured, they could have gone searching for you. And honestly,” Jane said. “You’re sick and you’re hurt, judging by the smell of that hand it’s not pretty. You can’t search if you’re dead. Maybe consider turning back and heading to the medical camp.”

  “As if my family would miraculously be there.” I chuckled in disbelief. “Thank you for telling me I smell.”

  “You don’t know,” Jane argued. “They could be there. It’s a big camp.”

  “How would they know about it? I can pretty much say with certainty that unless my husband or daughter was hurt they went with the masses. I may not have asked Roy about my family, but I am certain if one of them was hurt or sick he would have told me. If you don’t want to come …”

  “I never said I was coming.” Jane folded her arms. “I’m going to the other observatory and told you I’d take you to some of the camps. After the observatory my ass is going west. Not …” She nodded her head at West. “Him. But west. West Virginia. Kentucky. Maybe stay and help at the med camp. I don’t know. But I’m not staying in the hot zone. I’m only offering my advice.”

  “What would you do if it was your family?” I asked.

  “Like you, I’d search until I couldn’t. Until circumstances say not to. But that would be based on the fact that I was healthy. You are not. You need to think of you, and in the interim come up with a contingency. Leave a note somewhere. Send these two men out. You look like hell. I’m just being honest.”