SURVIVOR: The Coming Power Grid Collapse Read online

  “You seem new here,” the cop said, leaning on a post and giving them a scrutinizing look.

  “Yeah, we’re just passing by here,” he said, putting both hands in his front pockets. Patricia tilted his head and gazed at the cop.

  “That must be the chained goal of every people nowadays – they have no specific place left to go. Oh yeah, my name’s Chase,” he smiled as he brought out his wallet from his back pocket.

  “I’m Patricia Silva and this is Stan Harris,” Patricia butted in. Smiling, she angled her head on the ears of Chase. “He has issues with introductions,” she whispered somewhat loud for Stan to hear it. They both chuckled while Stan bestowed his plaintive look.

  “Girls,” he groaned and ignored what she said. Chase was still snickering at them. Dropping the subject, Stan averted his gaze to the road. “We’re running out of supplies. Do you think there’s something here where we can check?”

  Chase drew a piece of paper from the wallet on his hand. Beaming, he handed the paper to him. “There’s a Walmart ahead. It’s a short distance from here. You can check it from there and present that slip so you can be able to get the supplies you need.”

  Extending his hand, Stan grabbed the paper and gingerly kept it. “Thanks, man.”

  “You have to reach there as soon as possible before the place runs out of supplies. People tried to burglarize resulting for the management to give away free coupons,” he explained. Chase patted Stan’s shoulders before sending them off to the road.

  The Walmart was quite a few distance from the roadblock. Cars were parked in the parking lot, strewn rubbish streamlined the area.

  “I’ll be the lookout and you go inside to grab the supplies needed for our journey,” Stan ordered, giving the paper to Patricia.

  Without a second thought, she took hold of it and edged to the door. Two men were on the main entrance seemingly guarding the area. Stan watched her as she presented the slip to them. Moments after, Patricia was swallowed by the heavily tinted door.

  It took about less than an hour after Patricia came out pushing a cart. She hoisted the rucksack walking to where Stan was stationed. They aptly loaded the stocks on his packs. But before they moved on again, they positioned on a rusted metal seat and ate.

  “I wonder when this will end,” Patricia blurted out, picking some chips and putting it in her mouth. “When will everything turn back to the way it used to be?”

  The sound of an acid emanating from a soda can be perceived as Stan opened it. Shrugging off, he gulped the drink and ripped the soda can. “I’m not sure, but eventually.”

  “Do you think it has an ending?” Patricia looked worn out and hopeless.

  Warily, she kicked the can into thin air and watched it land on the grass.

  “Of course, it will. It will end soon,” he said, trying to convince her. “You have to expect the worse and learn to live a different life, tougher and more vigilant. We have to get going. Time is ticking.”

  They got up and on the road. A row of trees lined along the road, shading the pathways and making a beautiful landscape. It paved a way of a bizarre impression of traveling back home. It was odd but the promise of tomorrow screamed with great power. They stayed in a comfortable silence when unsurprisingly, Patricia stomped with her shoulders slumped. Stopping on tracks, she looked up and growled but Stan kept walking, never looking back.

  “Hey! Wait for me,” she shouted and ran towards his side.

  “I thought you’ve decided to be left behind. The wilderness isn’t for you, anyway.” Stan glanced at her; tiny beads of sweat are coming out of her porcelain skin.

  “I know but neither you, anyway.” She gasped brushing him off. “I didn’t mean to offend you. But that’s just my observation.”

  “Why did you say so?” Stan cast his inquisitive look. The road became narrow but he tried to breathe along the way.

  “Everyone is guilty of that. No one has ever dreamt of living and surviving alone in a foreign land,” Patricia answered, he met her eyes but she averted her gaze back to the road.

  “No one is totally ready for anything but as long as you are prepared, you must not fear anything,” he tapped the bottom of his pack and fixed it lightly. “You will never be ready, so you must be prepared.”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t expected this.” Patricia looked forlorn. Bowing her head, tears started welling in her eyes.

  “Things happen the way it will happen, some are beyond our control and others may not even happen the way we planned it to be.”

  “I couldn’t argue much anymore,” Patricia clenched her fists and groaned. The disappointment in her voice was unequivocal.

  “We won’t go as far as this just to discuss life and science, will we?” Stan saw her shrug her shoulders. But sooner after, she shook her head. “Then, it’d be better to accept the lemons of life with open arms and make lemonades out of those.”

  “I think I’m gonna make a thousand servings of lemonade if I have to catch all the lime,” Patricia let out a chuckle. Smiling at the thought, a small smile on Stan’s rugged face uplifted the tension between them. Patricia stared at her for a long time. “This is the first time I saw you smile,” she added.

  Stan grinned, waltzing onto the forested road. “The tension is too heavy to bear. It would be smoother to lighten up.”

  “You’re on point. We need it sometimes,” she nodded her head, putting her hands on her sack.

  “Most of the times, actually,” he reiterated, grinning at her. It was as if he hasn’t smiled for a long time in his life. “We need it especially at moments like this. It’s addictive and infectious.”

  “I know. You look more handsome with a smile on,” she said, interlacing both of her hands together and stretching it.

  “I was told that numerous times,” he patted her shoulder as she choked out to her breath. Stan laughed loudly clutching at his abdomen while she was catching up her breath.

  “I think I’ve missed the rude and vicious Stan Harris,” she quipped, pulling herself straight.

  But before he could answer, they were alarmed by a sudden noise from a distance. Thinking it might be another animal wandering in the woods, they did not bother but silence swallowed them simultaneously.

  The highway was empty but it inferred too many memories. Patricia trailed behind Stan. The cool breeze on a sunny day swept the strands of hair on her face. She pulled her bun letting her hair stream down her façade and tied it back together. A sudden jangling sound snapped them off their reverie. Clasping on his waistband, Stan glanced around spying at the surroundings. They were nearing the end of the town when Patricia screamed in horror. She buried her face on Stan’s arm, clutching on to it. Stan stared at the four bodies hung in a prodigious flagpole.

  “Looters will not be shot, they will be HUNG!!!” Stan read loudly enough for Patricia to hear. “This is insane.” He added, attentively bringing out a gun from his waistband. Clasping on it, Patricia slackened from her hold to tagging the hem of her shirt.

  “It’s barbarous!” She exclaimed. “Why would people do that?” Patricia added, pointing at the sign and at the same time the four cold bodies above them.

  “It’s to prevent turmoil,” Stan watched around them, searching for something aberrant. “It seems like the incident has gotten into the heads of the people. Let’s get going before anything happens here. This place is dangerous.”

  They went back to the road, leaving the bodies hanging. From afar, they could still see the bodies swinging in the air. A crow perched on one body, singing roughly in the gust of the wind. Patricia followed Stan’s steps. They watched as the sun enlivened the horizon before coming down. The earth was preparing to swallow it whole so the two decided to find a place to spend the night. They found the perfect spot inside the woods nearby a small creek.

  Setting up the camp, Stan left to look for branches to build up a fire. He instructed her to take charge until he comes back. Carrying piles of firewood in his ar
ms, he went back to the camp where he started a small campfire. They quietly sat up on a log facing each other separated by the fire in between.

  “You seem fully prepared for this kind of situation,” Patricia started, glancing at him. The fire illuminated his rugged face.

  “I’m prepared for everything. Since the first day, I’ve witnessed how it swiftly changed the way of life. The clamors of the people are excruciatingly ringing throughout the spot. They quiver for help and yearn for food. It wasn’t what you will expect.” Stan fed a wood on the fire as they watched it slowly consumed the woods.

  “How was it the subsequent days?” Patricia bent her legs and hugged it. Anxiously, she played fire out of a stick listening to the person speaking in front of her.

  “It has gotten worse. People have disappeared and there were scant to no supplies. Good thing I packed some necessities for a few days. I have encountered some enemies and friends. You wouldn’t know who you will meet in cases as such. But you have to be extra vigilant when you’re out on the battlefield.” He searched for his weapons lying on the ground near him. Patricia was keeping an eye on his every move.

  “How are you taking everything in your system?” The question was conveyed showing the simplicity and innocence of a person about a situation. She was hungry of survival techniques and planned strategies.

  “I eat it and swallow it after mastication,” he simply answered. “If you want to live, you will do everything in order to keep breathing. It does not matter what you do but how you do it.”

  Stan reached for his knife and peeled a stick for roasting. He pierced the stick through the meat and made four piercings out of it.

  “I couldn’t get your point. Yeah, I get it but my resiliency wouldn’t agree with me. I’ve lived a life with utter comfort and leisure. I would have been taught how to live out of my comfort zones.” She reached out for the stick with meat and thanked him.

  The smell of a meat being roasted filled the place.

  “I fully understand where you’re coming from. But you have to keep in mind that this is essential for your survival. You have to learn to take the long cut even if it’s craggy and restricted. People out there are treacherous,” Stan spoke as he turned the roast on the fire. Patricia was doing the same as his.

  “Eventually,” she shrugged. “But I am learning from you,” she added sparing a single glance at him.

  “That’s a good start,” he muttered, focusing on the roasted meat.

  “Thanks,” Patricia sighed, pausing for a moment and letting silence consume the evening. She thought of her family, but at the back of her mind, she was also concerned about the man sitting in front of him. “Have you heard from your family?”

  Stan wavered at the mention of his family. Bowing down his head, his gaze fixed on the broiling food. They listened to the crackling sound of a burning wood. But the question dawned on him. There was no escape.

  “No. I’ve left my wife together with my two young daughters at home. Never heard from them since the first day,” he answered.

  “I’m sorry,” she pursed her lips and bit the insides of her cheeks. “But what if something has happened to them?”

  “Actually, I’ve thought of the worst but I couldn’t get it on my nerves that they are in massive danger,” he grimaced, clenching the stick in his hand. “But I know they’re in good shape.”

  “I hope so,” she poked the meat with another stick and continued twisting it to cook. “I’m also fervently praying that my parents are safe.”

  “What happened?” He asked, putting the cooked meat on a clean surface and reached out for another stick of meat.

  “I haven’t heard from them, too the day it happened. I wonder where they are now,” she gave the meat to Stan and took another stick to roast.

  “The least thing to do is to hope for the best. But for the meantime, you must learn to fight the terrors of the night and to survive in the world full of ambiguity.” She nodded upon his proposition.

  Shutting off things in mind, he thought about setting priorities first.

  “I am willing to learn,” she answered. She took a bite of meat and chewed it slowly.

  They both ate in silence, allowing the nocturnal animals overpower the dark.

  “That’s good, so tonight you will start your shift.” Stan tried to hide his smirk but she could see it in the limelight of the night.

  “You aren’t serious, are you?” Patricia asked, raising one of her brows. She crossed her arms and gave him a look.

  “I am,” he stated, taking the meat and biting nonchalantly.

  “Enlighten me. This must be something bearable,” she straightened her blouse to cover her skin.

  The wind was tickling her sheath making her shiver but the fire warmed her over.

  “It will. Okay, so one must stay awake for the night to be a lookout. We’ll take our turns, so that’s probably fair enough,” Stan explained, waiting for her reaction. She became silent seemingly in deep thoughts. But sooner after, she nodded without hesitation.

  “Yes, I think that’s fair enough,” she responded, shrugging her shoulders.

  “After we eat, I’ll be watching out first while you sleep. Are we clear?” He questioned, and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her yawn.

  Stan brought out a jacket from his pack and gave it to her. She wore it, giving her warmth all over. Patricia smiled, thanking him as she watched him wear a sweater. After dinner, she went off to dreamland while he took his post to guard the camp.

  It was after midnight when he woke her up to turn shifts. Rubbing her sleepy eyes, she graciously obliged. The sun was up and Stan woke up to the pokes on his arm.

  “Good morning,” Patricia greeted him, walking towards the camp fire and feeding it with more dried woods. “There’s a creek nearby, you might want to check it out for food or wash.”

  “Morning,” he greeted back, rubbing his face and crumpling his hair. “I’ll go check it, watch the camp.” He added, squirming off the ground. He wore his waistband back and held his knife as he walked towards the creek.

  The creek was shallow and narrow, the water was crystal clear. He looked around bending on the stream bed. Touching the water with his hand, he drenched the fragments of sleep on his face. It was refreshing. He washed his face and arms, feeling the cold water on his skin. He saw wild edibles behind a dying tree along the creek. After picking all up, he went back to the camp. Patricia was sitting on a log watching at the fire dancing with various colors.

  “Hey, look what I saw. This must be enough for breakfast,” he claimed, sitting on the log facing her.

  “What are those? Are those even edible?” She asked, watching him transfer the edibles in a bottle cut into half.

  “Before you go to the wild, have a quick research of what to eat and what not to eat. There are plants that are safe to the body as well as food that aren’t. These are wild berries. And to answer your query, yes ma’am. They are edible,” he said, sneaking a glance at her. He opened two canned foods for both of them. She shrugged devouring her food. They consumed the food and rested for a while.

  “Just like what I said, you have to know the importance of understanding the basics of survival,” he told her in a mouth full of berries.

  “So, what do you want me to do this time? Are you letting me go hunting?” She rolled her eyes and took a berry inserting it into her mouth. She nibbled it relentlessly.

  “Nope,” he stated, emphasizing the second to the last letter of the word. “Let’s see what I can do,” he teased, delighting in that very moment.

  “Nah, I think I have changed my mind. That seems a very tough task,” she taunted, grimacing at him as he laughed.

  “You think so?” Chuckling, he rumbled her hair. Patricia squinted her eyes and slapped his arm off her hair.

  “Stop messing my hair!” She stomped her foot and glared at him. Laughing, he blew off all the berries from his mouth. “That’s gross!”

  “That’
s one of my talents,” he grinned, letting out a belly laugh at her response.

  “You’re ridiculous!”

  Stan straightened his self and cleared his throat. Reaching out for a cloth, he wiped his mouth and placed his waistband on his lap.

  “Have you held a gun before?” He looked at her straight in the eye, she shook her head.

  “My dad doesn’t want me to,” she replied, looking down at her toes. Stan was observing him as she sighed in every breath. “He said it’s dangerous.”

  “I bet your weren’t taught self-defense too.” Patricia shook her head again.

  “I’m afraid not. He said I wouldn’t need that,” she said in a soft voice, bowing her head.

  “That’s troubling. I am teaching my daughters how to defend themselves in any case of danger. But parents have distinct ways of upbringing and disciplining their children so I don’t have to question your father’s ways.” She didn’t respond, but she was looking at him. “But now, allow yourself to learn how to hold a gun and to defend yourself from danger.”

  Stan took out his extra gun and removed the magazine. He handed the grip to her, letting her feel it. Patricia smiled as she seized it in her hands, allowing the moment to take place. She listened intently as he explained every detail to him. After giving the magazine to her, she put it in the well and placed the gun on a flat surface. Stan also gave her a BIC lighter which she could use.

  “Keep these with you and use it only in times of emergency. Do not play with it. You must always bear in mind that this is a gun, not a toy. You will be held liable for every accident you cause,” he reminded, pointing the responsibility to her. She kept it in a holster and clipped it on her body.

  After lecturing, they packed all their necessities back to the pack and hit the road again.