One Second After

“For my money… maybe North Korea, maybe Middle East terrorists with some equipment supplied by Iran, Korea, or both. As for the warhead, we all know there’s enough of those left over from the old Soviet Union that sooner or later someone would get their hands on, if for nothing else than the goodies inside that go bang. Iran and Korea were hellbent on making nukes as well. But they’d be crazy to throw three or four at us when we could make the rubble glow for a hundred years with a thousand fired back in reply. But turn them into EMP weapons… and they win, at least in terms of hitting us harder than we could ever have dreamed of.

“Maybe launched from a sub, hell, even from a freighter that got up a couple of hundred miles from the coast. Get that close and even an old Scud could just about get the package high enough. One like I said, maybe two or three, and you’ve just castrated the entire country.”

“We’ll flatten the bastards for this,” Tom snapped.

“Most likely already have, but do they give a shit? Hell no. The leaders will survive; they’re most likely down in bunkers a thousand feet deep laughing their asses off right now. Hell, if we flatten them, they’ll tell their own people that survive that we struck first and then they got millions more followers.”

“I can’t yet believe this,” Kate sighed.

“Sun Tzu,” Charlie said.

John looked at him and smiled.

“The enemy will never attack you where you are strongest…. He will attack where you are weakest. If you do not know your weakest point, be certain, your enemy will.”

All three looked at him in surprise.

“Hey, I remember a few things from college.”

No one spoke for a moment.

“What happened out there,” John said softly, “doesn’t matter to us now. It’s what happens here in Black Mountain that does.”

“How long before the power comes back on?” Kate asked. “Or we get some word from Washington on what to do? Or even from Raleigh or Asheville?”

Strangely, an old Civil War song flashed into his mind, a line from “Lorena”: “It may be for years, and it may be forever.”

“Weeks, months, maybe years,” John said, and he found he could not look into Kate’s eyes as he said it.

Yesterday, her biggest concern was the hot argument in the town about who would be grand marshal this year for the Fourth of July parade, that and the continuing wrangle with Asheville about water rates.

“We’ve got to prioritize,” Tom said. “Security for one thing. I’ve got five hundred strangers from the interstate on my hands this morning. What the hell should we do with them for starters.”

No one spoke.

“Well, we just can’t kick them out,” Kate said. John did not reply.

“Priorities for getting through this,” Charlie interjected, and now everyone was becoming agitated. John realized that for the last fifteen hours they had been waiting for “someone else” to tell them what to do. The reality was beginning to hit, that there just might no longer be “someone else.”

“Water first,” Kate said. “Once the tank on top of the hill runs dry, the pipes will start emptying out. We don’t have any means then of pumping more back up to the tank. Most of the town will be dry within a day.”

“We’re lucky in one sense,” Charlie said. “We get our water gravity fed from the reservoir. The dam face is at twenty five hundred feet above sea level, so at least here in town we’ll get some, but anyone above that elevation line is screwed.”

John realized that meant him; his neighbor had a sign on his driveway: “Half mile high.” They were 250 feet above the gravity feed point for water. At least we have the pool, thank God.

“Food,” Tom said. “Jesus, no electric means no refrigeration.”

John was silent, on his third cigarette as the other three argued about what to do next.

“I’m making a quick run up to the college, and once the pharmacy opens I’ve got a very important errand to run,” John said. “I’ve told you all I know, so if you will excuse me.”

He stood up and started for the door. “John.”

He knew this was coming. It was Tom.

“Concerning your car.”

“What about my car?”

“I’d like to have it.”

“Why?”

“I need to get around.”

“Use a bike; it’ll be good for you.”

“John, don’t bullshit around with me; I need that car. I’ll give you a lift home, but I do need it.”

John stared right at Kate for a moment, then back at Tom. “That car is mine, my family’s. You declaring martial law?”

“I think we’ll have to,” Kate said quietly.

“When you do, come and try and take it, Tom.”

“What do you mean ‘try’?”

“Just that. Just try.”

Tom stood silent, no one speaking, and then finally he nodded. “Ok, John.”

He looked back at Kate, who sighed and then nodded in agreement. “Sorry, John, we were out of line.”

“That’s ok. Just a bit of advice, Kate.”

“And that is?”

He pointed to the cigarette in her hand.

“Now that you are hooked again. You better go over to Smiley’s and get several cartons. Cash only. If Hamid says he doesn’t have cartons, pull rank on him. He’s hiding them in the back of the store. You better load up now ’cause you’re going to need them.”