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Okay, here we go. I've been a PAW fiction reader for a couple of years now, they are part of what got me into prepping, and I have wanted to try my hand at writing something. I found this site through Grand, I emailed him about his story "Second Chance" and he pointed me here. I like the attitudes of the people here so I thought this would be the place to give a try.
Go easy, it's my first time (been a long time since I said THAT LOL) !!
The story is called Living Gray.
Living Gray
by Brokedown
Prologue
Things had been okay in the summer of 2011; not good, a long way from good as a matter of fact, but okay. Most people were struggling a little (by American standards) but we were still better off than most. Yes, the American economy was in bad shape but it was viewed by most as just a downturn that would improve with time like it always did; besides everyone else in the world seemed to be in worse shape than we were. The politicians of the day were partisan and both parties were spending more time pointing out each others mistakes than they did in trying to actual govern the country- but this too was more normal than not and most people went about their daily lives with very little concern for the drama and games in D.C. The seemingly eternal War on Terror was quieting down after the deaths of Bin Laden and Al-Awake; according to the spy agencies, the terrorists seemed to have gotten the message that they weren't safe anywhere from the drones and Special Forces teams and there was a lull in terrorist activities.
Consequently, nobody saw the attack coming. A total blindside attack, no warning at all was issued and everyone in the U.S. suffered as a result- those that didn't die quickly, anyway. Even though EMP had been a topic of concern among isolated military types and survivalists, no one really thought it was a serious method of attack. The logistics of building the right type of nuke, getting it into the right orbit, and the problem of the attacker not being able to protect themselves from the effects led most analysts to discount EMP as a real threat. Even among those who discussed it, there was little agreement as to the level of damage that would be caused by EMP bursts; some said that virtually all electronics would be rendered useless while others produced research that downplayed the severity of the pulse, that most older cars would probably be immune and most equipment would, at worst, suffer minor damage. Everybody "in the know" agreed on one thing- such an attack would be limited in scope, a regional event, maybe continental in nature but not a world-wide event. Riiight.
The folks "in the know" had no real understanding of the situation; no way of grasping the hatred felt by Taliban extremists and the level of fear felt by the Chinese ruling class that they couldn't maintain their grip on power in the rapidly changing Chinese economy. That those Muslim extremists, who had finally gotten their hands on some of those pesky Russian tactical nukes that are always being talked about being so poorly guarded, would sit down secretly with the Chinese and forge an alliance; an alliance with one purpose- bring the world back to a technological level that would be far below that of the Chinese (but still above that of the Paradise envisioned by the Taliban envoys), leaving the Chinese alone at the top of the global economy and at the apex of the tech ladder.
At 10:55 a.m. on October 30th, 2011, an array of satellites, all Chinese launched commercial satellites thought by security analysts to be either GPS, television or phone relays, exploded at various altitudes and positions around the globe. Immediately, a massive EM pulse rolled across North America, Europe, and Russian Asia. Within 30 seconds, the majority of the planet fell back into the 19th century. Unfortunately for the Chinese and the unwitting countries of South America, who, since they were left untouched by the attack were seen as accomplices of China, America's nuclear capability was well protected from EMP and the retaliation, once the evidence was strong enough to convince even President Biden (due to the sudden unexplained death of Obama), was brutal and complete. Estimates broadcast years later were that 90% of the population and all the industrial ability of China, Brazil, Argentina, and Venezuela were wiped from the face of the earth. Almost as an afterthought, Teheran, Mecca, and most large population centers of the Muslim world were targeted as well; I guess the military leaders were very persuasive when talking to the new Prez). With no knowledge of the Taliban/Muslim cooperation with the Chinese, it was probably a case of ending a long running problem more than revenge for the attacks. The terrorists, along with most of the adherents of Islam, would be a much smaller problem for the world for the near future.
Over the course of a single day, the human population of planet Earth was reduced from 6.9 billion to somewhere around 4 billion. This was only the tip of the iceberg; hunger, disease, local wars, and the longer winters from all the debris in the atmosphere cost another 3 billion dead within the first year following what came to be known as "The Big Drop". In America alone, deaths in the first year numbered 170 million. Most died in the brutal winter that followed the summer of tornadoes and floods that had ravaged the nation.
The experts had been more accurate than not; most all vehicles over ten years old continued to run, some better than others, but only for the short time that there was any fuel to run them. Older coal power-plants and some hydro-electric dams continued to operate- some after hasty repairs, leaving patchwork areas with some power available, although more than a few of those went down after enough of the operators died or left to care for or find their families. Most home electronics, if plugged in at the time of the attack, were ruined. As if a switch were thrown, most of the world's people were returned to a mid-1800's level of technology, except in those isolated pockets where the lights still shown.
Along with the bulk of the electronics, American society ceased to function. Local control was lost in the urban areas within hours, riots and looting were widespread and devastating. Murders, revenge killings, rapes, and other mayhem were commonplace; people fled the cities in fear and panic. Food distribution warehouses were attacked and gutted soon after the grocery stores were emptied. The violence poured outward from the ruins of the cities into the suburbs, enveloping millions before more than the barest of news about the attack had even arrived. Entire families died in their homes as now-experienced robbers and gangs assaulted neighborhoods like swarms of locusts, leaving little of any use. Subdivisions burned, some with the screams of whole families trapped within their flaming homes. The rural areas slowed the advance of the hordes of both refugees and gangs alike, the increased distances acting as buffers as the fuel supplies ran low and forced the groups to either stop and forage or fall back and regroup their strength and find re-supply of fuel, food, and weapons and ammo. Over time, borders established themselves as groups and towns came together to fight off the roving gangs and defined their perimeters. Those unlucky enough to be caught outside the protected areas lived a life of constant movement; foraging for supplies and food while hiding from the random patrols of townspeople or raiders.
Then winter arrived and the real dying began.
************************************************
Chapter 1
The rain came down steadily in a light drizzle; a cold wind added to the discomfort of the lone figure kneeling beside the burned out remains of a convenience store. His eyes never stopped moving, scanning the streets and buildings for signs of movement or danger of any kind. The interior of the store was a soggy mess not worth sifting through even if it had been safe to do so. The riots and looting of the previous autumn hadn't left much of any use in this area; what little had been left after the looters went through the neighborhood either went up in flames or got soaked in the frequent Northwest rainstorms that had put out the fires and drenched the weary survivors. It had been a harsh, unforgiving winter in the western part of Washington state unless you had been lucky enough to be inside one of the 'protected areas' around and to the south of Olympia where the nuke power-plant had somehow managed to get back online and supply power to areas that would agree to fall under the 'protection' of the Army units formerly stationed at Fort Lewis (or "Joint Base Lewis-McChord" as it came to be known when it merged with the nearby Air Force base) and the remnants of State government led by the harpy Governor and her cronies. The storms coming off the Gulf of Alaska and the northern Pacific Ocean had been powerful and frequent; the entire region was in a shambles especially when the added to the damages from the violence following the Big Drop.
Satisfied that the immediate area was clear, the figure slowly limped into the open and continued his search. Listening and moving cautiously, he moved into the next building which appeared to have once been a clothing store before the Drop. The interior was wrecked, windows and displays broken and thrown everywhere, clothes of different styles and colors strewn on the floor, hanging from the remains of counters and display racks. Except for the area near the front, where the broken windows had allowed wind and rain into the store, most of the contents were fairly dry, though a damp and mildewy smell permeated the store. The man quickly searched through the items for anything warm that would fit him, finding only a single long-sleeved flannel shirt. Even this find was enough to make the risk of daytime foraging worthwhile and the man stripped his worn and patched jacket off and donned the flannel over the t-shirt that had been his only upper clothing under the jacket. Donning the jacket again, the dampness of the shirt immediately chilled him but within minutes his body heat began to warm the shirt and help him resist the cold as he finished his search. Moving back to the front of the store, he carefully scouted the street and windows of visible buildings again. Still empty, so he moved to the next store. A pizza chain store, stripped of anything edible, of course, but he moved in to look anyway. You never know what people will ignore or miss in the heat of looting, so he scanned the floor, quietly moving aside debris and checking under tables and counters for anything that would have any use, that would add to his meager pack of essentials that lay hidden further up the road in a partially collapsed shed in the back yard of a burned house. For the hundredth time, he reached down and felt for the pistol at his belt, reassuring himself that it was still there. Still amazed at his earlier good fortune at finding the body of the man, who had obviously crawled into a storefront and died from multiple gunshot wounds at some point in the recent past. The corpse had been curled up inside a large cabinet, hiding from someone, and had bled out from his wounds. The body hadn't been found by who ever had shot him up and had still been armed with a pistol and 2 magazines, a nice sturdy hunting knife, and a small multi-tool on his belt. The .45acp pistol still held 3 rounds and one of the magazines was still loaded, giving him 13 rounds; an amazing arsenal and a fortune in this new world. The clothes were ruined from the decay of the body, even slowed by the low temperatures, and were far too small to be of any use so he left the body as he found it except for the removal of the belt, bootlaces and weapons. The belt, while too small to go around his waist, was of good leather and would be valuable in many ways.
The pizza joint was a bust and the remainder of the block yielded nothing either so he began to circle back to his cache, ready to move on to another area. It wasn't a good idea to stay in one area too long while scavenging due to the roving patrols of the local gang who seemed to think that everything within the town limits was theirs, including any women or children they lucked upon. The men they killed, eventually, after taking hours or even days to 'question' them, usually just torture for entertainment value. The man had heard one of their 'questioning' sessions a few nights ago; the screams had traveled across the harbor of the once busy Puget Sound city of Everett, WA. Not a pleasant memory, he shook off the thought and moved across the block and into the rubble of a collapsed building, moving slowly and keeping low in order to pass through to the next street and into the residential zone where his belongings were stashed. Stopping to listen and survey the street and the nearby buildings, he froze as his roving eyes caught a glint of light reflecting off of something on the roof of a building half a block down from his position. Slowly lowering himself to the ground and partially under a section of leaning wall, he searched for whatever had alerted him; a sigh of relief escaped him as he saw the source of the flash- a dangling strip of metal trim that was moving gently in the erratic wind gusting down the street between the buildings. He once again began to move toward the shed and the small backpack that held everything he possessed.
Several minutes later, after multiple stops and circling back to check his path for possible followers, he arrived at his stash. Lifting the pack onto his back and settling the weight as he adjusted the straps, he shook his head sadly as his stomach growled loudly enough to hear and he muttered "You can stop that, we will eat when we get under cover… not that it will be much". The weight of the new pistol caused him to think, just for a split second, of hunting for something to eat but he knew that the sound of the bullet would bring him far too much unwanted attention. The meager supply of canned goods and the last bit of squirrel meat in his pack would have to do for now.
Go easy, it's my first time (been a long time since I said THAT LOL) !!
The story is called Living Gray.
Living Gray
by Brokedown
Prologue
Things had been okay in the summer of 2011; not good, a long way from good as a matter of fact, but okay. Most people were struggling a little (by American standards) but we were still better off than most. Yes, the American economy was in bad shape but it was viewed by most as just a downturn that would improve with time like it always did; besides everyone else in the world seemed to be in worse shape than we were. The politicians of the day were partisan and both parties were spending more time pointing out each others mistakes than they did in trying to actual govern the country- but this too was more normal than not and most people went about their daily lives with very little concern for the drama and games in D.C. The seemingly eternal War on Terror was quieting down after the deaths of Bin Laden and Al-Awake; according to the spy agencies, the terrorists seemed to have gotten the message that they weren't safe anywhere from the drones and Special Forces teams and there was a lull in terrorist activities.
Consequently, nobody saw the attack coming. A total blindside attack, no warning at all was issued and everyone in the U.S. suffered as a result- those that didn't die quickly, anyway. Even though EMP had been a topic of concern among isolated military types and survivalists, no one really thought it was a serious method of attack. The logistics of building the right type of nuke, getting it into the right orbit, and the problem of the attacker not being able to protect themselves from the effects led most analysts to discount EMP as a real threat. Even among those who discussed it, there was little agreement as to the level of damage that would be caused by EMP bursts; some said that virtually all electronics would be rendered useless while others produced research that downplayed the severity of the pulse, that most older cars would probably be immune and most equipment would, at worst, suffer minor damage. Everybody "in the know" agreed on one thing- such an attack would be limited in scope, a regional event, maybe continental in nature but not a world-wide event. Riiight.
The folks "in the know" had no real understanding of the situation; no way of grasping the hatred felt by Taliban extremists and the level of fear felt by the Chinese ruling class that they couldn't maintain their grip on power in the rapidly changing Chinese economy. That those Muslim extremists, who had finally gotten their hands on some of those pesky Russian tactical nukes that are always being talked about being so poorly guarded, would sit down secretly with the Chinese and forge an alliance; an alliance with one purpose- bring the world back to a technological level that would be far below that of the Chinese (but still above that of the Paradise envisioned by the Taliban envoys), leaving the Chinese alone at the top of the global economy and at the apex of the tech ladder.
At 10:55 a.m. on October 30th, 2011, an array of satellites, all Chinese launched commercial satellites thought by security analysts to be either GPS, television or phone relays, exploded at various altitudes and positions around the globe. Immediately, a massive EM pulse rolled across North America, Europe, and Russian Asia. Within 30 seconds, the majority of the planet fell back into the 19th century. Unfortunately for the Chinese and the unwitting countries of South America, who, since they were left untouched by the attack were seen as accomplices of China, America's nuclear capability was well protected from EMP and the retaliation, once the evidence was strong enough to convince even President Biden (due to the sudden unexplained death of Obama), was brutal and complete. Estimates broadcast years later were that 90% of the population and all the industrial ability of China, Brazil, Argentina, and Venezuela were wiped from the face of the earth. Almost as an afterthought, Teheran, Mecca, and most large population centers of the Muslim world were targeted as well; I guess the military leaders were very persuasive when talking to the new Prez). With no knowledge of the Taliban/Muslim cooperation with the Chinese, it was probably a case of ending a long running problem more than revenge for the attacks. The terrorists, along with most of the adherents of Islam, would be a much smaller problem for the world for the near future.
Over the course of a single day, the human population of planet Earth was reduced from 6.9 billion to somewhere around 4 billion. This was only the tip of the iceberg; hunger, disease, local wars, and the longer winters from all the debris in the atmosphere cost another 3 billion dead within the first year following what came to be known as "The Big Drop". In America alone, deaths in the first year numbered 170 million. Most died in the brutal winter that followed the summer of tornadoes and floods that had ravaged the nation.
The experts had been more accurate than not; most all vehicles over ten years old continued to run, some better than others, but only for the short time that there was any fuel to run them. Older coal power-plants and some hydro-electric dams continued to operate- some after hasty repairs, leaving patchwork areas with some power available, although more than a few of those went down after enough of the operators died or left to care for or find their families. Most home electronics, if plugged in at the time of the attack, were ruined. As if a switch were thrown, most of the world's people were returned to a mid-1800's level of technology, except in those isolated pockets where the lights still shown.
Along with the bulk of the electronics, American society ceased to function. Local control was lost in the urban areas within hours, riots and looting were widespread and devastating. Murders, revenge killings, rapes, and other mayhem were commonplace; people fled the cities in fear and panic. Food distribution warehouses were attacked and gutted soon after the grocery stores were emptied. The violence poured outward from the ruins of the cities into the suburbs, enveloping millions before more than the barest of news about the attack had even arrived. Entire families died in their homes as now-experienced robbers and gangs assaulted neighborhoods like swarms of locusts, leaving little of any use. Subdivisions burned, some with the screams of whole families trapped within their flaming homes. The rural areas slowed the advance of the hordes of both refugees and gangs alike, the increased distances acting as buffers as the fuel supplies ran low and forced the groups to either stop and forage or fall back and regroup their strength and find re-supply of fuel, food, and weapons and ammo. Over time, borders established themselves as groups and towns came together to fight off the roving gangs and defined their perimeters. Those unlucky enough to be caught outside the protected areas lived a life of constant movement; foraging for supplies and food while hiding from the random patrols of townspeople or raiders.
Then winter arrived and the real dying began.
************************************************
Chapter 1
The rain came down steadily in a light drizzle; a cold wind added to the discomfort of the lone figure kneeling beside the burned out remains of a convenience store. His eyes never stopped moving, scanning the streets and buildings for signs of movement or danger of any kind. The interior of the store was a soggy mess not worth sifting through even if it had been safe to do so. The riots and looting of the previous autumn hadn't left much of any use in this area; what little had been left after the looters went through the neighborhood either went up in flames or got soaked in the frequent Northwest rainstorms that had put out the fires and drenched the weary survivors. It had been a harsh, unforgiving winter in the western part of Washington state unless you had been lucky enough to be inside one of the 'protected areas' around and to the south of Olympia where the nuke power-plant had somehow managed to get back online and supply power to areas that would agree to fall under the 'protection' of the Army units formerly stationed at Fort Lewis (or "Joint Base Lewis-McChord" as it came to be known when it merged with the nearby Air Force base) and the remnants of State government led by the harpy Governor and her cronies. The storms coming off the Gulf of Alaska and the northern Pacific Ocean had been powerful and frequent; the entire region was in a shambles especially when the added to the damages from the violence following the Big Drop.
Satisfied that the immediate area was clear, the figure slowly limped into the open and continued his search. Listening and moving cautiously, he moved into the next building which appeared to have once been a clothing store before the Drop. The interior was wrecked, windows and displays broken and thrown everywhere, clothes of different styles and colors strewn on the floor, hanging from the remains of counters and display racks. Except for the area near the front, where the broken windows had allowed wind and rain into the store, most of the contents were fairly dry, though a damp and mildewy smell permeated the store. The man quickly searched through the items for anything warm that would fit him, finding only a single long-sleeved flannel shirt. Even this find was enough to make the risk of daytime foraging worthwhile and the man stripped his worn and patched jacket off and donned the flannel over the t-shirt that had been his only upper clothing under the jacket. Donning the jacket again, the dampness of the shirt immediately chilled him but within minutes his body heat began to warm the shirt and help him resist the cold as he finished his search. Moving back to the front of the store, he carefully scouted the street and windows of visible buildings again. Still empty, so he moved to the next store. A pizza chain store, stripped of anything edible, of course, but he moved in to look anyway. You never know what people will ignore or miss in the heat of looting, so he scanned the floor, quietly moving aside debris and checking under tables and counters for anything that would have any use, that would add to his meager pack of essentials that lay hidden further up the road in a partially collapsed shed in the back yard of a burned house. For the hundredth time, he reached down and felt for the pistol at his belt, reassuring himself that it was still there. Still amazed at his earlier good fortune at finding the body of the man, who had obviously crawled into a storefront and died from multiple gunshot wounds at some point in the recent past. The corpse had been curled up inside a large cabinet, hiding from someone, and had bled out from his wounds. The body hadn't been found by who ever had shot him up and had still been armed with a pistol and 2 magazines, a nice sturdy hunting knife, and a small multi-tool on his belt. The .45acp pistol still held 3 rounds and one of the magazines was still loaded, giving him 13 rounds; an amazing arsenal and a fortune in this new world. The clothes were ruined from the decay of the body, even slowed by the low temperatures, and were far too small to be of any use so he left the body as he found it except for the removal of the belt, bootlaces and weapons. The belt, while too small to go around his waist, was of good leather and would be valuable in many ways.
The pizza joint was a bust and the remainder of the block yielded nothing either so he began to circle back to his cache, ready to move on to another area. It wasn't a good idea to stay in one area too long while scavenging due to the roving patrols of the local gang who seemed to think that everything within the town limits was theirs, including any women or children they lucked upon. The men they killed, eventually, after taking hours or even days to 'question' them, usually just torture for entertainment value. The man had heard one of their 'questioning' sessions a few nights ago; the screams had traveled across the harbor of the once busy Puget Sound city of Everett, WA. Not a pleasant memory, he shook off the thought and moved across the block and into the rubble of a collapsed building, moving slowly and keeping low in order to pass through to the next street and into the residential zone where his belongings were stashed. Stopping to listen and survey the street and the nearby buildings, he froze as his roving eyes caught a glint of light reflecting off of something on the roof of a building half a block down from his position. Slowly lowering himself to the ground and partially under a section of leaning wall, he searched for whatever had alerted him; a sigh of relief escaped him as he saw the source of the flash- a dangling strip of metal trim that was moving gently in the erratic wind gusting down the street between the buildings. He once again began to move toward the shed and the small backpack that held everything he possessed.
Several minutes later, after multiple stops and circling back to check his path for possible followers, he arrived at his stash. Lifting the pack onto his back and settling the weight as he adjusted the straps, he shook his head sadly as his stomach growled loudly enough to hear and he muttered "You can stop that, we will eat when we get under cover… not that it will be much". The weight of the new pistol caused him to think, just for a split second, of hunting for something to eat but he knew that the sound of the bullet would bring him far too much unwanted attention. The meager supply of canned goods and the last bit of squirrel meat in his pack would have to do for now.
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