EMP Survival Part 1

The dish's curved metal dome clanked as Masa tried to lift it. She failed and it resounded loudly as it hit the ground. Her hands went to her ears while she screamed from the pain while its metallic echo bounced back and forth across the dome. She took a deep breath and tried again, but failed.

In despair, she beat against the dish. "Help! Someone help me! Father?!" she screamed and burst into tears, nursing her sore hand. It couldn’t be. Why could no one hear her?

Masa tried another approach. The rock was soft in one spot so she used a loose piece of metal to dig a hole. She squeezed through it, escaping the dish that had been her prison.

Outside, the world was anything but what she had expected. The remnants of buildings lay scattered about. She knew one was her home, but struggled to know which. It looked like the pictures of ruins she had seen in the desert from the books she had seen in school or of dystopian wastelands from science fiction novels.

A sharp pain in her head and she groaned as her hand flew to her forehead. When she pulled it away, she saw blood. What had happened? She had been out checking the dish with her father, when….. “Father,” she screamed, fresh tears filling her eyes. She looked back in a panic and searched the area around the dish. She called him over and over, but he did not respond. Nothing. No bones. No blood. No sign that he had ever existed.

Masa staggered backward and leaned against the dish, wiping the tears from her eyes while she collapsed against it. They burned from all the crying. A long gash ran along her arm, and several bruises covered her legs. Her stomach growled. How long had she been out? She bit her lip to hold back the tears. Between her legs she hid her head, wrapping her arms around them for comfort. She was only sixteen. How was she supposed to deal with all this?

The wind blew, picking up dust into the air. It made it hard to breathe. Masa coughed, clearing her throat and wiping the tears from her eyes. Everything was eerily silent reminding her of how alone she was.

Masa knew she needed a plan. Something. But what? The buildings. There must be someone there.

She climbed to her feet, struggling against the pain. She staggered through the dust, across the hard rock which had once been green grass. The trees surrounding the field where the large dish rested were gone, leaving the same dust-covered rock, reaching to the edge of the plateau. Ruins of their neighbors’ homes broke up the horizon far off in the distance.

Her home where her father had handled communications for their community was not far – at least she hoped it was. It was the closest to the dish and mostly built from stone but she couldn’t be certain. She pushed through what remained of the metal door, peppered with metallic debris. The small pieces of metal had hit it so hard; it had pierced through. Whatever had happened must have been terrible.

There was nothing inside. The wooden tables and computer consoles were gone. A crushed white piece of metal lay in what had once been the kitchen. It no longer looked like the fridge it had once been, and if there was any possibility of food inside, she doubted it.

Had Monterrey been nuked? Or had something else happened? She worked with her hands to remove the fallen brick in the main room. The backup system in the basement had to have some answers. She wasn’t supposed to know about it but knew it was there. She freed the trap door and climbed inside. It felt a relief to see a normal room. Tears came to her eyes, as she rushed to the couch and curled up on it, wrapping herself in the warm woolen blanket and feeling comforted. For the briefest moment, everything was okay. Father was just upstairs working and she had snuck down here to nap.

The light from the computer lit up the wall behind the couch. She must have knocked it in her desperation to lie down, causing the backup battery to bring it to life. It might have answers. Curiosity and a need to know overcame her. She threw off the blanket and rushed toward the screen. She entered her father’s password. There was no internet.

Masa pulled the last recording from the dish: ERROR. EMP DETECTION

No. It had to be an error. She searched the backup files on the computer which recorded local news. A sense of panic filled her while she fought against the computer's hesitancy to yield the information without the internet.

“Come on,” she said desperately, “You have to give me something.”

The files opened and Masa gasped, frozen in terror. One of the countries had set off nukes and all the other countries had responded in kind. The last news entry declared the beginning of World War 3. Her father had mentioned that if World War 3 ever happened, it would be the war to end all wars because humanity would destroy itself. The war to end all wars. Somehow an EMP had been set off and she was protected by the dish. She began to wonder how long she had been out and why she wasn’t already dead.

Tears ran down her cheeks while she stared at the screen, unable to move. The world had ended and she was one of the last – if not the last person alive. She would be alone forever and even if she did find someone, the nearest city had been miles from their rural country dish in the mountains. She knew she would have to try.

At the thought of food, her stomach growled and she left the computer and scrounged through the boxes. She felt guilty at all the times she had accused her father of being a crazy prepper. It was his madness that would allow her to survive for a time. She found a pack of stale tortillas and began wolfing them down. A can of soda disappeared before she could even appreciate the taste. The feeling of fullness caused her to feel sleepy and she passed out against the wall.

When she woke, Masa packed everything she could in her father’s old rucksack and set out. There was no point in staying. If she did, the food would run out and so would the battery. It would be better to keep moving and have the hope of finding more people. The other buildings in the area were also abandoned with no sign of life. Their walls had crumbled in and were nothing but ruins. None of them had basements or anything resembling supplies she could add to her pack.

Masa hit the edge of the plateau and pulled out her map. She had hiked these mountains before, the world had been reshaped and the map was useless. Even the mountain range seemed no longer familiar, its peaks had been altered by whatever had taken place. She knew the city of Monterrey lay towards the west so she walked away from the sun and wandered down into the valley. When she grew tired, she ate and slept, always careful to keep her father’s revolver at her side. In a world like this one, anyone she came across would be desperate enough to do anything. At times, she wondered whether she would be happy to just hear someone else’s voice, or be desperate enough to shoot them and take their supplies.

The silence still bothered her. Even out in their wilderness community, there had been a certain amount of noise – voices in the distance, the hum of electricity, the occasional plane flying overhead, or the rumble of a vehicle, but now there was nothing.

The slope on the far side of the valley had begun to crumble without its trees. The gravel bit into her hands while she struggled up it on all fours. She slipped, several times and slid down the slope taking a mouthful of the gravel when she sunk into it, but she continued. She had to survive. The gravel began to give way to the rock on the peaks and she pulled herself up to the top of the ridge.

Masa collapsed onto her back, panting in exhaustion. The sky above her was beginning to darken. Crossing the valley had taken her an entire day. She reached for one of the water bottles and downed it.

Another bottle of water was used to clean off the cuts in her hand and the gash on her arm. They burned and tears came to her eyes, but she swallowed them. She had to be strong.

The sky above her continued to darken while she tried to regain her strength, but she was so tired. Masa groaned as she struggled from her back onto her behind. She was so weak and her muscles were so sore. She had to be strong – had to be. Tears filled her eyes and she looked across the valley where Monterrey had once been. The city was gone. She hid her head between her knees once more and wept.

 It was dark when she looked up through red-rimmed eyes. Across the unending darkness, the tiniest orange glimmer lay where the city had once been. Her heart leaped with joy. It was a campfire. People. Hope. A future. She had found what she was looking for.