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  How long will it take if I have to avoid dangerous people?

  She wanted nothing more than to sit back down on the cold tile floor, curl into a ball, and stay there until her mom came to her rescue.

  Mom is not coming, Maddie. Mom is stranded in California.

  She had gone with her mother to San Diego. They had brought her grandmother home from the hospital. Her mother wanted Grand to enjoy her last days at home in her own bed surrounded by the things she loved, including her one-eyed dog, Jack. The sudden realization that her mom might not be able to make it back home to Missouri shook her to her core. She had been so focused on herself that she had not even thought about where her mom and brother were. When she had last received a text message from Zach, he had been coming back from his school field trip to Washington, D.C.

  Maddie placed her hands over her face and rubbed her forehead.

  Where did he say they had stopped?

  Maddie retrieved her cell phone from the floor beside her suitcase, opened her messages app, and clicked on the last message from Zach. He had been in Marshall, Illinois right before the lights went out.

  Maybe the lights aren't out there?

  Although she was unsure where Marshall, Illinois was, she doubted it was anywhere near Chicago. His bus had been heading southwest back to St. Louis.

  He will be all right. There were six teachers on the trip. They’ll get him home.

  She checked for cell service one last time before putting her phone in the front pouch of her vest. The light from the phone shined through the mesh fabric. She patted her pockets, adjusted her straps and pulled the cords tight.

  Time to get going.

  Maddie slowly unlocked and cracked opened the door. The scene out in the corridor was even more chaotic than before. She could hear raised voices and crying.

  How long was I in there?

  She checked her watch. It was four o’clock. She had at least two hours before it would be dark. Walking down the terminal toward the main hall, she could see that most of the activity centered on the restaurant area of the concourse. People were fighting over what was left of the food.

  She needed a map. She had seen a place that sold books and newspapers when she had gotten coffee earlier.

  They should have maps. There are tourists here, right?

  Maddie raced around a corner and saw a floor to ceiling mural of the city of Chicago. It would not replace a paper map that she could take with her, but it would give her a direction to head out in at least. Not knowing the scale of the map, she made a fist and stuck up her thumb, using it as a ruler to calculate distance.

  “Which way are you heading?” the man asked.

  A male voice startled her, causing her to jump. She twirled around to find a man in his mid-thirties. Beside the man stood a woman, maybe a little younger than him, and a girl of about ten years old.

  “Um—I—south,” Maddie stammered.

  She chastised herself. She had just given out critical information to a stranger. She could hear her father scold her.

  OPSEC, Maddie, her dad would say.

  Operational security means keeping your big trap shut about what you have and where you plan to go. She was sucking at this already. She looked down at her feet.

  “Your dad serve?” the man asked, pointing to Maddie’s Marine Corps buff.

  “He did. Did you?” she asked, pointing to the U.S. Army National Guard Minute Man logo on his hat.

  “I did.”

  “Two tours in Iraq and four in Afghanistan,” the woman added.

  “Yeah, my dad spent a lot of time in those places too.”

  “Is he with you?” the man asked.

  Maddie looked away and swallowed hard, resolved to fight back the tears. She would give anything to have her dad with her right now.

  “I’m Rob Andrews, by the way, and this is my wife April and our daughter Emma.”

  Emma gave a timid wave as April stepped forward and extended her hand. Maddie shook it and said, “I’m Maddie Langston.”

  “Look, it is getting bad in here. It’s going to get worse in the city very soon. We're not going to wait around for the lights to come back on. We’re getting out of here, and it looks like you have the same idea,” Rob said.

  “Um—yeah, I mean, I was thinking about it. With the airplanes crashing, I was trying to decide how to leave to avoid the runways. I need to head toward Interstate 55, but that is southwest, and it looks like most of the runways are in that direction.”

  “You could go due south and then cut over, say, around here.” Rob pointed to 143rd Street on the map mural.

  “I wish I had a map to take with me, in case I have to adjust course quickly.”

  “I have a map. We are heading south too. We live about fifty miles from here. You are welcome to join us until you need to head west.”

  “I don’t know if I should.”

  “You shouldn’t be out on the streets alone. It’s not safe on a regular day, but now with the power being out…”

  Maddie was leery of leaving the airport with strangers, but he was right. It wasn’t safe to go alone. Safety in numbers, as her dad would say.

  She looked the man over. He had been in the military like her dad. He had his wife and daughter with him.

  It should be all right, right?

  “Okay. When do you want to leave?”

  Turbulent-Chapter 2

  San Diego, California

  Day of Event

  * * *

  Beth’s drive back to her mother’s house after dropping off her eighteen-year-old daughter at the San Diego airport was difficult. The doctor had put her mother on hospice care just days before. She hadn’t had time to adjust to the news that her mother would not recover from cancer this time.

  Beth’s mother, Florence, had beaten breast cancer twice. The third time it returned, it was in her bones. Her mother was sixty-eight and had led a full, vibrant and active life before this most recent diagnosis.

  The traffic was heavy—heavier than she remembered from when she had lived there before marrying her first husband, Greg Langston. But that was ages ago. She had lived all over since then, settling in Missouri. When Greg left the Marines and took the job in St. Louis, Beth had been thrilled.

  For the first time in their marriage, they had been able to settle in the place of their choosing. To be honest, though, St. Louis hadn’t been her first choice. She could think of much nicer places to live, but Greg had received a great job offer from a military defense contractor. The job allowed him to be home with Beth and their children, Maddie and Zach.

  Beth pulled the car into the third bay of her parents’ three-car garage. She unloaded the groceries and placed them on the marble countertop.

  “Beth, is that you?”

  “Yes, Mom, it’s me. Can I bring you some juice? I stopped at Panera Bread and bought you some of the chicken and wild rice soup you like.”

  “Maybe later, dear. I…”

  She was getting weaker and sleeping longer. Beth wasn’t sure if it was because of the cancer or the pain meds. She was incoherent a lot when she was awake. Beth had moved the dining table and china cabinet out of the dining room to set her mother’s hospital bed up there. Her step-father, Frank, was set up in the den, where he spent most of his time. He had suffered a stroke the year before, leaving his left arm paralyzed.

  Beth finished putting the groceries away and went into the den to check on Frank.

  “Frank, can I get you some soup or a sandwich?”

  Frank did not answer her, so she said it louder. The television was blaring. She had to yell to be heard over the commentator’s gloomy newscast.

  “Frank,” she yelled.

  “What? Why are you yelling at me?” Frank asked, glowering at her over his shoulder.

  He turned back to stare at the television before she could finish her sentence. She rolled her eyes and went back to the kitchen.

  “I’ll just make him a tray, and if he
is hungry, he’ll eat it,” she said out loud, her tone exasperated.

  “What did you say?” Frank called from the den.

  Beth shook her head and pulled a bowl from the cabinet next to the sink. She made Frank a tray and sat it on the coffee table in front of him.

  “You're blocking the television,” Frank barked, craning his neck around her.

  China’s president, Xi Jinping, is said to have facilitated the talks between North Korean leader Kim Jong Un and the United States. U.S. State Department spokesman, Robin Payton, said Monday that the president had rejected calls from China, Russia and North Korea to lift sanctions imposed on the isolated state. The U.S. remains committed to only doing so when Pyongyang makes further progress toward denuclearization on the Korean Peninsula. Further talks between Chairman Kim and President Rhynard have yet to be scheduled.

  “You can’t trust those damn commie North Koreans. Are they nuts or something? What the hell are we talking to them for anyway,” Frank yelled at the television.

  Beth had never been so tired of listening to the news in her life.

  Why in the world did they invent twenty-four hour news stations, anyway? All they do is repeat the same bad news over and over.

  The hospice nurse, Sandy arrived shortly after one o’clock that afternoon. She took her mother’s vitals and adjusted her morphine pump.

  “She is sleeping most of the time now. Is it from the meds?” Beth asked as she walked Sandy to her car.

  “Her urine output has decreased again. I increased her fluids, but I think her kidneys are shutting down.”

  The nurse put a hand on Beth's shoulder. Her eyes were full of sympathy.

  “It is just a matter of days now—maybe three or four. If you have family to call in, I’d say now would be the time. She will likely slip into a coma in a day or two.”

  Beth inhaled and held it. She had known those words were coming. She had felt it in her heart, and she’d thought she was prepared for it. Beth thanked Sandy and walked back into the house. All she wanted to do was go upstairs to her room, crawl into bed, and pull up the covers. That was what she had done after her husband Greg had died. She had shut down. Sleep was her only comfort. She didn’t have the luxury of retreat today. She had ill parents and a lazy one-eyed dog to care for.

  Jack slept in the bed with Beth’s mother. He rarely left her side. She stroked the dog’s head as she stared down at her mom. He lifted his head from the bed, shifted position, then put his head on her mother’s leg. Feeling sorry for her mother’s furry child, she decided she would reheat the chicken and rice she had made him the day before.

  “Jack—you want some lunch?”

  Jack’s paws hit the wood floor, and a flash of white fur streaked by her feet. Jack loved food.

  “What are we going to do with you, little guy?”

  She hated the thought of taking him to an animal rescue, but her husband, Jason would never allow her to bring him home with her. They already had a dog he didn’t like.

  As Beth followed Jack into the kitchen, an ear-piercing emergency alert tone emitted from Frank’s television. Beth’s first thought was the alert was for a wildfire. They had not had rain in a while. Beth placed the kitchen towel she held in her hand onto the counter and walked into the den just as the emergency alert message began to scroll across the screen.

  We interrupt our programming; this is a national emergency. The Department of Homeland Security has issued a national emergency alert. Residents are asked to shelter in place until further notice. Stay tuned to this channel for updates. This is not a test.

  Beth heard the alert tone on her cell phone and ran to the kitchen to retrieve it.

  Presidential Alert

  THIS IS NOT A TEST. This is a national emergency. Shelter in place until further notice.

  “What the hell?” Frank said.

  Beth clicked the news app on her phone to check for news about the emergency but found none. She opened the Facebook app and scrolled through the messages. She stared down at her phone as her news feed refreshed. A story from a San Diego news station informed the city that the nation had been attacked. Beth dropped to the floor on her knees, her cell phone skidding across the floor. Crawling over and to pick up her phone, she leaned against the kitchen cabinets and read the article.

  San Diego Daily News has been informed that at approximately twenty-three minutes past three this afternoon, a nuclear device exploded in the atmosphere above the United States. Information is still coming in regarding the extent of the damage this detonation has caused, and areas affected. But right now we know that communications with most of the nation have been interrupted. An official with the governor’s office has told Daily News that they have no information regarding further attacks. A state of emergency has been declared, and residents have been ordered to shelter in place until further notice. We expect a formal statement from the governor later today. Stay tuned for further details.

  Beth kept scrolling through her news feed hoping for more news. She tapped on contacts, selected Maddie’s cell number, and pressed call button. The call failed so she couldn’t even leave a voicemail. She opened her message app and typed a message to Maddie and Zach, then tapped the send button. She waited. A moment later, a message appeared telling her that delivery had failed.

  Beth buried her head in her hands. Being cut off from her children during a national emergency was beyond any heartache she had ever experienced. Rocking back and forth, she tried to control her panic. She repeatedly tapped the messages send button hoping desperately that it would go through.

  Placing her hands on the counter, Beth pulled herself to her feet. She ran her hands through her hair. Her mind wanted to go numb, but she could not give in to that. Walking over to the sink, she washed her face and dried off with a kitchen towel. She heard a news anchor discussing the shelter in place order and headed back to the den.

  Frank was unusually quiet as he and Beth sat staring at the television screen. All anyone could say was that no one knew what the damage was throughout the rest of the country. All planes had been grounded and a state-wide curfew had been ordered. No one was allowed out of their homes except essential personnel.

  It was hours before news reports came in about the blackout caused by the electromagnetic pulse, or EMP. A so-called expert explained the effects of an EMP detonated at three-hundred-mile altitude. As far as they had determined, the unaffected areas include parts of California, Oregon, Washington, and Alaska. Beth didn’t need to listen to the rest. She understood the effects of an EMP. Her deceased husband, Greg, had studied it as one of the possible scenarios he foresaw happening.

  She was cut off from her children and her husband, Jason. She was two thousand miles away, and there was nothing she could do to protect them. Worse yet, they were both away from home and separated from each other. Zach would have his school teachers for help and support, but Maddie was stranded in an airport in a large, densely populated city.

  Beth paced the room. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t think of a single thing she could do to help her children or even try to get to them. The roads were shut down. The authorities were not allowing anyone to travel. Walking two thousand miles without any gear was impossible.

  “Beth? Where are you, Beth?”

  “I’m right here, Mom. I'm coming.”

  No matter how desperately she wanted to get home to her children. She knew she could not leave her dying mother, and it would be foolish to go alone anyway. She wouldn’t make it out of California, let alone across four states of chaos and devastation.

  Even though ever cell in her body wanted to get to her children, she would have to stay there and care for her parents.

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  Also by T. L. Payne

  Turbulent: Days of Want Series Book One

  * * *

  Hunted: Days of Want Series, Book Two

  Coming Soon!

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  About the Author

  T. L. Payne is the author of the fast-paced post apocalyptic survival series, Days of Want. T.L. writes full time from her farm in the beautiful Mark Twain National Forest in South Central Missouri.

  When not writing or doing research for her next book, she enjoys hiking, camping and searching for treasure with her metal detector. You may occasionally see her chasing down wayward sheep in her pajamas and muck boots. If you do, don’t laugh. Well, maybe a little.