EMP Catastrophe , Hamilton, Grace [crime books to read txt] 📗

been doing: his GPS location, his search history, tracking him through his phone use, collecting his bank information just from his finger swipes on the app. And then remember that celebrity? The gal that acted in that thriller movie? Her bank account was frozen because she hadn’t donated to some cause or other. Who's to say people like that aren’t responsible for this?”

“You think some hacker is personally making sure my car can’t start? For what? Opening a hotel business in Illinois?” Matthew scoffed and crossed his arms. International squabbles came and went. There was always something going wrong, negotiations falling through, agreements backed out on, but how did that centralize around a power outage in Madison?

The cowboy nodded in agreement with David. “I read that a lot of those cyberattacks are foreign, mainly coming from North Korea.”

“Are you serious?” the woman with the glasses asked, creeping closer to their conversation. Awe painted her voice. Matthew raised an eyebrow at her. “I had no idea that was happening. I heard about the bank freezing out accounts for no reason, but I never thought something like that would happen here! Oh my god, do you think we’re under attack?”

“We’re always under attack,” David said gravely. “This is just a war we can’t see.”

“Dad, stop scaring people.” Matthew narrowed his eyes at David, somewhat shocked his father had followed all of this when he had no idea. “I can’t imagine North Korea caring about Madison enough to mess with the power and cause an outage. They’d attack somewhere with more impact to make a statement, like Washington D.C.”

“Oh gosh, you’re probably right.” The woman in the glasses uttered a high-pitched laugh. “It’s just there have been so many outages this spring, it seems weird. Like, why can’t the electricity company get it together, you know?”

Matthew smiled tightly at her. “Losing electricity isn’t an international crisis, but we should try to stay calm and help each other out.”

David looked away, his eyebrows raised in disagreement.

“Sure,” the glasses woman said and scooted away now that the group had no further information to give.

“I’m only relaying what the news has been saying,” David said.

“Ever heard of the boy who cried wolf, Dad?” Matthew said under his breath to David. The other customers in the store had gone quiet, listening to their ongoing conversation. Matthew, noticing the attention, turned to face them, and asked in a loud voice: “Is there anybody who can help me jump my truck?”

Silence met his inquiry, followed by suspicious looks.

“Unlikely,” one young man finally said.

“Don’t look at me,” an older woman hissed and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

“No luck here, either. I already asked everyone here, and no one can help.” The cowboy shrugged an apology and shifted his attention to his useless phone, effectively ending any conversation between them.

Matthew spread his arms in frustration. David was quiet behind him, uncannily so for an Army vet who always had an order to give or a suggestion to impart. Matthew took a couple of deep breaths. He needed to stay calm. People were scared and that made them selfish. That was no excuse to let his fear and worry overwhelm him. Someone would be willing to help him, he just had to figure out who.

A door squeaked open. A balding man entered from the back room into the space behind the counter—Bill, Manager, by his nametag—and offered them a strained smile.

“I’m sorry to ask,” Matthew said, catching Bill’s attention and deciding to try one more time. “But would you mind helping me jump my truck?”

Bill paused but then walked around the counter. “Sure thing. I can take a look for you.” He smiled, making the crow’s feet deepen around his brown eyes. “Not sure I can do much, but I know my way around a car. I’ve got a voltmeter that will tell us if your battery is completely dead. I know it’s been a stressful situation for everyone here, and we’re trying to figure out what’s going on with the power as soon as we can. Where’s your truck?”

“Thank you so much,” Matthew said, relief painting his voice. People have good hearts under everything. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this. I’m just outside in the parking lot.”

“Lead the way,” Bill said and ducked back behind the counter, tucking a small machine under his arm. The digital scale looked like a Geiger counter, with small red knobs on the metal front and two different colored wires hanging off the side. Together, they left the store.

“Hey, if you get your car started let me know! I need a ride,” one of the customers shouted at him as they opened the front door, hearing the welcome bell ring. David snorted in derision.

Outside, cars still filled the parking lot, only now most of the vehicles had their hoods popped open. A few anxious owners surrounded their vehicles, in a similar state to Matthew, trying to figure out what was wrong. Uneasiness filled Matthew as he noted the jump cables extending between two cars at the far end of the lot and their owners waving their arms up and down in a clear display of an argument.

The sun felt hot and oppressive. The store was surrounded by other establishments, and Matthew could see other stranded vehicles in their parking lots. David took in a couple of deep breaths from behind him that had Matthew wanting to turn and look at him with concern, but he held back. He couldn’t start acting like a mother hen now, of all times.

"You know, you're the first person who asked me to help them nicely," Bill said as they strode across the lot. "The rest of them honestly didn't ask me to check their cars, only demanded to use my landline, but that’s out too. Can't believe how rude people have become."

"Well, we sincerely appreciate your help. My truck is just over here,” he told Bill and led him over to the silver vehicle.

Popping the hood,