Coastal Event Memories (2 page)

David Russell looked like a typical surfer. He had sun bleached blond hair and stood just over six feet. He was in his third year of Electrical Engineering at UC Berkley. His parents were lawyers, and he had grown up living in a waterfront condo in Sausalito, CA. After passing finals, he packed up with two friends, to spend the summer back packing in the Sierra high country.

On the morning of Day –1, a conflict had developed between David and his friends. The weather was threatening, and a meteor strike a few miles south had started a small forest fire. They were just below a mountain peak, beside a small lake. David had lugged his telescope, in addition to a 70-pound pack, the 15 miles from where they had left the trucks.

“I’m not worried about the weather, if it gets too bad we can shelter in the mine shaft below the cliff. I want to get more pictures of the meteor shower.”

“That’s OK for you David, but Cindy is scared, and we are going back to my truck. We’ll leave most of our gear in the mine, and come back after the weather clears. You can watch it from up here, but we are going to find a motel with a big TV and a hot tub.”

Jason and Cindy left before noon. The wind and rain squalls increased all afternoon, and David broke camp, and moved everything into the mineshaft.

The meteor shower increased in intensity, with frequent visible strikes throughout the night.

The sun did not break through the heavy cloud cover, on Day 0. The earthquakes started just after 9:00 AM. The aftershocks increased, to the point that David grabbed his pack and ran to a small depression in the center of the meadow. By mid-afternoon the quake activity peaked with a shock that literally bounced his prone body off the ground. As the quakes subsided, the wind and rain increased.  By 6:00 PM of Day 0, the depression had filled with rainwater and David had to crawl back to the mineshaft to take shelter from the raging storm.

He was surprised to find it mostly intact. He crawled back in out of the wind and the rain and slept. Water, flowing out of the mine, woke him the next morning. The storm raged outside, and visibility was zero. David opened the pack he had been leaning against, took out a flashlight, and started taking stock of his situation.

The mine had a slight uphill slope, and a small stream of water was now flowing down the center of the shaft. Some rocks and debris had fallen down the cliff and partially blocked the entrance. Although the water pooled there, it flowed out of the mine and down into the darkness.

David carefully moved his pack, as well as Jason’s and Cindy’s, away from the water. He hoped that they were in a safe place, and knew it was not likely they would return any time soon. He drank some water, ate a power bar, and listened to the howling wind.

The hours passed, and David made camp by lamplight. He had plenty of food and water, and shelter, but limited battery life, so he stayed in the dark most of the time.

The wind eased by the end of Day 2, but the rain continued to come down in sheets. By mid-day of Day 3, there was a little visibility. The lake had filled the meadow, and the tree line, which had ringed the Western edge of the lake, was gone.

The days passed, with only gray skies and constant, unremitting, torrential rain. David had a handheld, multi-band transceiver, which emitted only static on all bands.

After a few days, housebound at the mine, David started exploring the area. A raging river, which had been a dry creek bed, now blocked the trail down the mountain. He returned to the mine, soaked and discouraged.

The days became weeks and the rains never abated.  Finally, on Day 48, the rain eased to a gentle shower. David wrote a note for Jason and Cindy, or anyone else who came to the mine. He packed the remaining food, the first aid kit, his sleeping bag, the radio, utensils, a hand axe, the 357 Magnum pistol, and ammunition. He left his telescope and the other’s packs. The poncho kept most of the rain off him and the pack.

Zeke Jacoby looked like a geek, with horn-rimmed glasses, a slender frame, and short black hair that accentuated his premature balding. He was a self made man, an engineering genius, and after cashing out of his dot com, just before the crash, a 27 year old, multi-millionaire. He lived on a custom houseboat, anchored just off of Sausalito.  He was single, unencumbered, and spent most of his days researching and writing a blog titled: Offthegridandafloat.com.

On the morning of Day -1, his current lady friend left in a huff after Zeke refused to cancel his plan to pull up anchor and sail up the Sacramento River and spend a few days in the delta. He wanted to get away from the light pollution of the Bay Area. And get some good video of the meteor shower. He had also read the net warning signs of a Coastal Event.

He helped Angela take her bags from the dock to her car. She would not even give him a goodbye kiss, and drove away with her nose in the air. Zeke was not disturbed. He had resolved to never again let a woman take him for a ride. His wife had filed for divorce shortly after the stock sale, and had moved to Mexico with his former broker as soon as she got her half of the community property settlement.

Within an hour, the ungainly craft was making six knots up the River. The houseboat was named Busted Flush, after Travis McGee's houseboat in the novels by John D. McDonald. The Flush, was a 60' x 20' ocean rated barge that had spent over a year in the shipyard, in a major conversion to a combination luxury apartment, off the grid lab, and inland cruiser. It was propelled by a pair of inboard/outboard drive diesels. The upper deck contained the bridge, computer, and living room.

A 12KW solar array collected energy, which was stored as compressed air in a pair of below deck carbon fiber pressure vessels. The Tesla based turbo compressors and motors could be reversed to generate electric power when it was needed. The lab included an alcohol still, a bio diesel processor, in 10 gallon batches, a hydroponics garden, a small machine shop and fabrication center, an electronics bench, and a mix of other equipment and supplies.

It was before midnight of Day-1 when Zeke set both anchors in a slough East of a hill. He was awakened early on Day 0 by the blast of wind out of the East that just kept increasing. By 8:00 AM, the tide was running out at a tremendous rate, and by 9:30 the Flush was setting on the mud.

By noon, the earthquakes were occurring every few minutes. Zeke was worried that the mud would swallow the vessel. The big one happened in the afternoon, a few minutes after the incoming tide had floated the Flush free of the mud. He heard it coming, just like the previous shocks, except the noise was many times greater, and it went on for several minutes. He could see trees shaking, and falling. Then the hillside split and slid down into the slue. It pushed the Flush sideways, dragging both anchors, washing over the starboard side, until the port side was driven into the trees on the East bank of the slue.

The tide continued to rise, until Zeke had to retrieve both anchors to avoid over stressing their systems. He set the sea anchor and hoped the drift would not drive the Flush into anything. The wind had shifted to come from the West, along with a driving rain that never quit.

Visibility was zero, and the sea anchor had snagged on something. It held for an hour and then came loose with a lurch. Zeke caught a few hours sleep, on the bridge, with his life jacket on.

On the morning of Day 1, the Flush ground to a halt, against something that prevented the wind from driving it further east. The tide had stopped rising, but the wind was still blasting, and the rain continued its deluge.

Zeke had stowed most of the electronics before the worst of the Solar EMP storm. He retrieved the multi-band radio receiver, and reconnected the external antenna. All he found on any band was static. He then fired up the GPS and was able to capture two satellites. The GPS indicated a current position on the West Side of the San Joaquin Valley, near the town of Clovis.

The wind eased to a steady 15-knot blow, by Day 5, and the downpour continued. Zeke spent his days inspecting the vessel for leaks, and checking for damage. The nights were spent in a fruitless effort to find any radio traffic He still slept in his life jacket. He was in good shape for food and fuel. Since there was no sun he had to run the small generator a few hours every other day to recharge the air storage tanks.

On Day 48, the wind died and the rain decreased to a light drizzle. The visibility increased to a half mile. Zeke reinstalled the radar antenna package, and repaired some connections on the solar arrays. The solar power output was still minimal because the only daylight was a dull glow.

USMC Captain Walter Brent was 28 years old, and looked like a recruiting poster. He came through the El Toro gates at 0700 on Day -2. He was scheduled to be on call as the pilot of the VIP Osprey V-22 aircraft. On the rare occasions when he had flown a VIP mission, it was to take some General from one base to another. Usually they used fixed wing aircraft unless there was no landing strip, and the distance was out of helicopter range.

Walter figured that he would spend the day doing paperwork in the ready room. Things were tense at the base. The President's Emergency Declaration had significantly increased the security level, and civilians were not being allowed on base. 

Major Bert Walker, his Wing Commander, came in waving a flight plan. “We have a hot one. You need to pick up some Homeland Security bigwigs at the helicopter pad on the LA Federal Building.”

“Where are they going?” Walter asked.

“Some spook facility up near Reno. You better grab your overnight kit, the weather is not looking good.”

When he went to the flight line to start the preflight checks Walter was surprised to not find his usual Crew Chief. “Where's Gunny Larson?”

“The Duty Crew Chief replied, “ Gunny Larson and his whole crew got loaded up along with a full service and repair package and flown out of here yesterday.”

“Where the hell did they go?”

“It was supposed to be hush hush, but Corporal Benson said they were going somewhere in Northern Nevada.”

Walter called home while the Flight Engineer was running a computer check. He told Sue, his wife, that he might have to overnight. He the told her he loved her, and asked her to kiss the kids for him.

His copilot, Lt. Marsha Rothermal, looked pissed. “I had a date for the Angels game tonight,” she said.

Walter knew she was a rabid fan. “I guess you'll have to listen on the radio, or watch it on the DVR when we get back”.

The computer check completed, they taxied out to the runway, rotated, and took off. When they checked in with LAX Traffic Control, Walter was surprised to have a Red Priority, which took them directly to the Federal Building.

As soon as the Port engine was shut down, a group of men approached the craft. There were four guys in suits and six guys in full combat gear, carrying automatic weapons. Walter thought that the contingent of bodyguards was a bit of overkill.

One of the bodyguards came in to the flight deck and asked for their cell phones, in a polite, but demanding tone. Walter was not pleased, since he planned to call and speak to the kids when they got home from school. “This must be some hot shit secure mission, what gives?” He asked.

His answer was stony silence, and the bodyguard's hand out.

“OK, you guys have all the guns. But we’re all on the same team. Give him your phones.”

The flight to a set of GPS coordinates took a little over two hours. Walter had checked his charts, and nothing at that location was shown. It was in the middle of a restricted area.

They landed on a pad next to a large, heavily reinforced hanger that was built into a cutout on the side of a mountain. As soon as they touched down, the hanger doors opened, and a couple of black SUVs pulled out. After the guests departed, a small tractor pulled up, attached a tow bar and pulled the Osprey into the hanger. The massive hanger doors started to close after them.

“Grab your bags guys, it looks like we're going to spend the night here.”

He was not surprised to see Gunny Larson driving the tractor, and the other members of the service crew setting the tie downs.

“What in the hell is going on Gunny?”

“All they told us is that we’re here until the emergency is over. There's a monster bunker under this mountain, with a lot of FEMA and Homeland Security types. It looks like we are the only military here. We are quartered down on Level Five, all by ourselves. These guys are acting like we work for them. Our Travel Orders say we do. It's good to have you here Sir.”

Half an hour later, Walter was escorted to a plush office on Level Two. DHS Director Malcolm Kemp stood with an outstretched hand.

Kemp looked like a bureaucrat playing solder, with stiffly starched black fatigues, with several official looking patches and badges. 

“Welcome to the Western Command Center Captain Brent. You’re assigned here for the emergency duration.”

He handed Walter a single page, with a single paragraph, under the Presidential

Seal. It was signed by the President and gave ultimate control over all governmental assets, both material and personal to the regional FEMA Directors.

Walter read the paragraph, and then asked, “Just what is this emergency, and how long do you expect it to last?”

“There is a slight chance that the asteroid approach could be deflected by a developing unusually large solar flare, into an Earth impact. If it occurs, it could be civilization ending. We are one of several shelters that should make a recovery possible.

This shelter houses nearly 2000 people with the skills and tools to maintain our government and administrate the recovery.”

“What about the people outside? Walter demanded.

“If the worst happens, we expect there will be some survivors, and we will take care of them after conditions stabilize. Remember, it looks like less than a 10% possibility, but we had to make some hard choices.”

Walter stood up, “I have a family down South, I need to be with them.”

“I'm sorry, but your aircraft would be essential if things go bad. You are the senior military officer here, and we need you to do your duty. You and your people will be confined to quarters until the event window has passed.”

Walter stiffened, “I want to communicate with my commanding officer. I don't believe this is a valid order.”

Director Kemp pressed a button, and two Security Guards appeared. “Again, I'm sorry, but the communication channels are being disrupted by the EMP conditions.”

Walter was escorted to level Five, where he gave the bad news to his team of 26 Marines. In addition to himself, 11 others had family in Southern California.

The reactions included rage, fear, and sorrow. The afternoon and evening of Day -1 were spent in quiet conversations and prayer.

The earthquakes started just after breakfast on Day 0, and increased in frequency, duration, and intensity throughout the morning. The power went out several times, and when the big one hit in early afternoon, it stayed out. There was emergency lighting, and the electrically locked doors, unlocked. Crack appeared in the perimeter rock walls.

The quakes diminished, and the lights finally came on just after 5:00 PM. One week later, Walter was escorted back to Director Kemp; office. In route, he noticed that the damage was limited to cracks in the walls and dust on many horizontal surfaces.

Kemp's face was grave. “I'm afraid that .the worst has happened. All communications, including fiber optics has been lost. Before we lost the sensor package, the surface winds were over 120 knots and the remote seismographs indicated several quakes over 9. We may be the only survivors. Our orders are to stay buttoned up until we are sure the danger is past. I need your team's cooperation and support. We won’t keep you separated from the rest of the staff any longer. We have adequate supplies and recreation facilities for a long-term stay. I’ll keep you informed on any developments. You can move to the senior staff quarters and mess on Level Nine any time.

Walter replied “I will stay with my folks for now if that's OK. We will make good use of the facilities. My people have been going a little stir crazy.