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

coming up beside him. “By myself. I know how to do it.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “It’s not a simple setup like a dome tent. You’ve never set one of these up before.”

“I can do it. Watch me.” She brushed past him.

Emma’s long-range plan was to become a park ranger, and she wanted to prove herself this year. She’d made that very clear. Greg was tempted to give her a bit of advice anyway, but he bit his lip and walked over to Eustace instead, helping him unfold the support poles for his much larger tunnel tent.

“What do you think?” Eustace said, taking in the surrounding wilderness with a broad sweep of one arm. “I keep a nice campsite, eh?”

“It’s a lovely area,” Greg replied. And, indeed, he was excited to see what it had to offer. He’d never camped this far from civilization, and the looming mountains and towering forests were breathtaking.

“Everyone thinks we mess with the land,” Eustace said, “just because we’re a natural gas company. But you can see for yourself. This is virgin land. We haven’t done a damned thing to hurt it.”

I’ll be the judge of that. We already know more than you think, pal, Greg thought, as outwardly he merely said, “Looks that way.”

Tuck’s little friend Tommy was flitting about the camp, apparently too excited to focus on any one task. As Greg watched, he tried to help Emma set up her tent, but she shook her head and waved him off.

“I did it, Dad,” Emma said. She’d set up her tent in record time, and although it didn’t look perfect—sit seemed slightly out of alignment—it was serviceable. Greg gave his daughter a round of applause.

“Excellent,” he said. “I couldn’t have done better myself.”

She gave him a withering look that suggested she didn’t believe he meant it. “Well, now I’m going to start the campfire. I can do that, too!”

She moved to the center of the camp and began clearing a firepit among the rocks. Greg was genuinely impressed with his daughter—not just her ability but her self-reliance. He’d tried to encourage it in her over the years, and it seemed to have taken root.

That’ll serve you well, kiddo, he thought.

As she began stacking up kindling, Greg went to his gear and picked out a small plastic suitcase. He undid the combination lock and popped it open to reveal a rather expensive satellite phone tucked into foam padding.

Time to make a call, he thought. Marion will want to know we’re settling in.

The phone looked somewhat like an old Nokia cell phone from the early 2000s, though it was larger and had a much longer, thicker antenna. It was packed with a charger, a backup battery, and a bunch of other attachments and accessories that he rarely used. He worked the phone out of its padding, tucked it into his shirt pocket, then walked across the campsite, trying to appear like he was taking a casual stroll. Best to be far from Eustace, just in case he had to mention the case.

Greg pulled the sat phone out of his pocket and pressed the on button. It usually took a few seconds to turn on, so when it didn’t respond right away, he didn’t think much of it. He double-checked to make sure he was pressing the button firmly. When it still didn’t respond, he pressed the button a few times repeatedly, shook the phone, and pressed the button one more time.

Battery must be dead, he thought. He went back to the briefcase, grabbed the charging cable, and plugged the phone into the backup charger. He gave it a few seconds, then tried to turn it on again. Still nothing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered. “This damn thing is practically new. I tested it yesterday. Yesterday.”

With a pocketknife, he worked open the battery case, then swapped out the battery with the extra in the briefcase. This time, he pressed the power button as hard as he could and held it there for almost a full minute. The phone still didn’t turn on.

“Son of a—” He bit off the curse. Emma was close by, her fire already crackling. Marion didn’t like it when he cussed in front of her.

“Dad, look. It’s already going pretty good.”

He looked over his shoulder and saw his daughter adding sticks to a small, steady fire. She was doing a great job, but the sudden anxiety spoiled the moment for him. He needed this stupid phone to work.

“Very nice,” he managed to say, then turned and smacked the satellite phone against his palm.

He tried the power button one last time and got no response. Disgusted, he tossed the phone back into the briefcase, dumped the battery charger on top of it, and slammed the briefcase shut.

“Problem?”

He looked up into the bony face of his father. Why did the man always look like he’d sucked on a lemon?

“The stupid sat phone is dead,” Greg replied. “It was working this morning. Somehow, between the time we left the hotel and the time we landed at the campsite, it died.”

“Well, we are supposed to be roughing it, after all,” Tuck replied. “Maybe nature did you a favor.”

“I need…we need that phone,” Greg said. “What if there’s an emergency?”

“We have first aid kits,” Tuck said.

“I promised Marion I’d get in touch with her so she’d know we all arrived safe and sound.”

Eustace walked over then, brushing his big, ruddy hands on the thighs of his jeans. “Take the battery out. Let it sit overnight inside your tent. Maybe the cold messed with it. Try it again in the morning.”

“That’s…” A stupid idea. But it wouldn’t help his cause to say it, so he pressed his lips together instead. “Yeah, I’ll try that, Eustace. Thanks.”

He picked up the briefcase, carried it over to where he intended to set up his tent, and dumped it on the ground in disgust.

The batteries were brand-new. The phone was working just a few hours ago. It doesn’t make any sense.

Grab