Midnight, Anna Dove [ebook smartphone .TXT] 📗

“I know what’s happened,” she said. “We need to go. Now. It will only get worse, and every minute we stand here, we risk our lives exponentially.”

         +

Haley took off her short heels, so that her bare feet sank into the carpet in the empty office. She placed them on the floor amidst the dropped papers and stepped to the doorway of the office. She would not have time to go to the Senator’s office.

No one was in sight; they must have generally evacuated before she came out of the tunnel. Tensing her muscles, she jumped into a sprint.

Down the hall she flew, toward the door. The marble was cold on her feet, and there was an eerie stillness in the air. Usually the halls were bustling with suited staff, eager interns, powerful Senators. Not a soul breathed in the wide space; no secretaries on telephones, no reporters, no one. The American flags by each congressional office fluttered as she ran past and then hung still.

Down the hall, to the left, down a stair. Another left, a right, and there was the exit. The security system lay inactive. She ducked under the detecting arch and pushed through the brass doors into the sunlight.

A man, running, almost collided with her, but she stepped back just in time as he barreled by. The car wrecks and screaming had worsened since she looked from the window. Haley choked back nausea as she saw a woman too pale to be alive, pressed between an airbag and the seat. She averted her eyes and avoided looking inside any more cars.

No one was speaking; those who were injured were moaning and trying to move away from the wreckage. Those uninjured ran. No one had yet entered into aggressiveness; self-preservation was the only motivator at the moment.

Haley saw a bike share rack and ran to it. The electrical screen indicators were off. She pulled at the handles of a bike, and it slid out easily, uninhibited by its electrical lock.

Home. She had to go home.

Jumping onto the seat, she set off pedaling southeast along the mall. No cell phones were working; people were desperately trying to dial family or friends with no luck. Then, Haley slid to a halt as her eye caught something truly horrible.

A plane was falling from high in the sky. She watched in horror as it neared the earth and fell out of view behind buildings. There was a slight booming noise like far away thunder, and a column of smoke rose up. Haley looked around.

A rush of fear enveloped her, because she saw that others had begun to notice the planes as well, and that a rising hysteria was coming. Putting her foot to the pedal, she pushed off fiercely and sped in the direction of Memorial Bridge  to Arlington.

In forty-five minutes, she had reached the apartment, cutting through wooded paths and back roads as often as possible. She avoided all wreckage and pedestrians, and kept an eye on the sky, although she knew that all the planes were down by now. Most pedestrians hurried by as she did, though, eager to keep to themselves. By the time she reached the apartment, she was drenched in sweat, from adrenaline, fear, exercise, and heat.

She pulled the key from her pocket and unlocked her door, calling out quietly,

“Elizabeth?”

No response. She shut the door behind her and locked both the deadbolt and the handle. Quickly she made a sweep of the house but found no one there. Retreating into her room, she reached under her bed and withdrew her handgun and box of ammunition. For the next few minutes, she loaded the gun carefully, pushing the metal cartridges into the magazine with her thumb, and dumped the rest of the ammunition into a small pouch purse with drawstring straps.

+

                  The blue line metro car was filled with midday passengers as it wound from Foggy Bottom towards Franconia Springfield. The passengers inside sat quietly, eyes on their cell phones or their books, earbuds drowning out the noise of the metro. Their music, individual and yet universal, filled the train, each person lost in their own tune.

                  Feet shifted, eyes glanced absently, a sigh here, a breath there. The train rolled on smoothly underground, just one car amongst the hundreds that filled the subterranean spider web of the metro system.

                  Then, there was darkness, and the train slowed, as the music stopped.

+

Inside the apartment silence reigned, but outside the birds continued to chirp, and Haley could hear them through the window. The shadows grew longer, and she waited anxiously. The natural light spilling through the window began to fade, and Haley got up and lit a candle, pulling the shades tightly shut. Softly the yellow candlelight lit the room, casting dancing shadows around the bookshelf and the couches and the kitchen sink.

A furtive knock. Haley jumped and went to the peephole, peering through. It was Elizabeth--and someone else--Carlos. She unlocked the door.

Elizabeth stepped inside, Carlos behind her, and wordlessly embraced Haley. It was the kind of affection displayed when the human body is warped with anxiety and simply needs another person’s warmth for comfort. Carlos locked the door in both places, and when he turned back, the three sat down on the floor. The candlelight lit their faces, and shadows fell behind them.

“EMP,” whispered Elizabeth, and Haley nodded.

“What are you talking about?” responded Carlos.

“It’s an electromagnetic pulse attack,” said Elizabeth. “A nuclear explosion that occurred in the atmosphere.”

“Wipes out the power grid,” added Haley quietly. “With that, comes infrastructure, roads, food services, water purification, security…” her voice trailed off.

“There will be chaos tonight,” said Carlos. “Once people figure out that the food supply is limited, they will become animals.”

“Yes,” murmured Elizabeth solemnly.

The three sat in silence for a moment.

“How long does this last, and how far