The Perseid Collapse

The Perseid Collapse by Steven Konkoly Page A

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Authors: Steven Konkoly
Tags: Fiction, Dystopian
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chafing is ten times worse,” said Alex.
    “Wonderful. Any other good news?”
    “We’ll all probably have blisters or a hot spot on our feet within the hour, most likely on the dominant foot. The extra weight on your back changes the friction coefficient between your sock and shoe. We’ll stop every forty-five minutes and check, make some adjustments—maybe change socks.”
    “I don’t think we should stop,” Kate said.
    “Trust me, you’ll be glad to stop. We did it during road marches in the Marine Corps. Marines would check their feet and drink water, while the corpsmen ran up and down the column repairing blisters and checking on guys who looked like they were about to pass out. We savored those breaks,” said Alex.
    “You didn’t have a son trapped in Boston, waiting to be rescued.”
    “Good point, though I have a feeling he’s not lying in bed sucking his thumb,” Alex said.
    “That boy needs his mom,” Kate insisted.
    “He is sort of a momma’s boy,” Alex joked. “Kids, make sure you keep sipping water! Don’t be afraid to stick that hose in your mouth.”
    “That didn’t sound right,” whispered Kate.
    “That was the G-rated version of what my gunny would have said.”
     

Chapter 12
    EVENT +05:07 Hours
    South Portland, Maine
    A lone car approached from behind, causing Alex to stop on the sidewalk. He stood with his family in the shadow of the three-story, red-brick middle school situated on the southeast corner of the intersection at Broadway and Ocean Street. Since turning onto Broadway, Alex had counted four cars of various makes and models. There was no discernible pattern to what type of car survived the EMP, or whatever disturbance had caused the electrical grid to fail. He had expected to see more cars based on the Critical National Infrastructure’s (CNI) revised report findings. Three cars in thirty minutes on a major road didn’t support the assertion that forty percent of all cars would remain drivable.
    They all watched a gray Subaru Outback pass them and stop at the intersection, which was occupied by a functional South Portland Police Department cruiser and three police officers. The Subaru edged forward, but the officers signaled for the driver to stop the car. Alex was pretty sure that he heard them tell the driver to turn off the engine.
    “Keep moving. Cut the corner and keep going down Ocean toward Highland. I’ll catch up,” said Alex.
    He kept walking along the curved sidewalk and stood behind a tree, while his family moved along the front of the school in the shade cast by the tall building. Satisfied that they were leaving the scene, he turned all of his attention back to the unfolding drama. Since there was no other vehicle traffic, or any background noise for that matter, he heard the entire exchange.
    “Sir, I need you to step out of the car,” said the officer by the driver’s-side window.
    The second officer had taken position on the front passenger side, while the third officer circled the hatchback, examining the back seat and cargo area of the vehicle, before joining the first officer.
    “Did I do something wrong?” asked the driver. “I stopped where I normally would, even though there’s no light.”
    “Can you please just step out of the car? You’re not in any trouble,” said the officer.
    “Well, I don’t see why I need to get out of my car. I have my license and registration right here,” said the driver, holding up the documents for the officer to see.
    The officer calmly retrieved the man’s driver’s license, barely examining it before continuing.
    “Mr. Reynolds, the Department of Homeland Security has declared a national state of emergency. We need to replace vehicles that were knocked out by the EMP. I’m sorry, Mr. Reynolds, but this vehicle temporarily belongs to the South Portland Police Department. Please step out of your car.”
    The officer standing next to him took a few steps back and rested her hand on her service

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