The New America? It Could Happen Annie Darek ©2008
The rain drizzled outside as the low rumble of thunderstorms moved in the distance. Chris moved through the house in its shaded state and found the remote control. Aimed at the television, the remote was ineffective. Puzzling. Sitting down at the computer and wiggling the mouse did not bring the screen out of slumber.
“Odd,” Chris mumbled and pressed the power button. But, the computer did not fire up. “What's going on?” Looking around, wondering, getting up and flipping a light switch. No light. “Oh, power must be out from the storms. That's why it feels so dark in here.
Sighing, Chris returned to the bedroom, picking up the only land line in the house. Cordless phones don’t work without power. The phone was silent, no dial tone. Making it back into the living room and grabbing the cell phone on the desk was reassuring. It lit up when buttons were pressed. Calling Terry and waiting, and waiting, the phone did not connect. More perplexing was the fact that no recorded message replied. Trying several more numbers got the same response.
No power. No television. No phones. No cell that connects either. Going to the stove, out of curiosity mostly, Chris turned the knob to light. The flame on the old stove appeared, but lasted only seconds and went out. Relighting did not work, and the gas sound was no longer present.
This feeling was indescribable. Uneasiness. Fear. Quiet panic. Standing there, not knowing where to move next. Finally, the inevitable, the move to the windows (seeing nothing), the back door (seeing nothing) and the front door (seeing nothing.) Getting the courage to quietly walk outside and look around, the street was quiet. Down the block, a car drove past an intersection. Quiet again. Sirens in the far distance came closer and faded. Silence again and minutes passed.
A car began to zoom up the distant side street, coming around the curve and crashing into a telephone pole. The driver got out and began to run, but was shot repeatedly in the back as he fell to the ground. The shooter came into view. Shooters, actually. Chris was confused. They were supposed to be the good guys.
Backing away slowly, making it into the safety of cover, Chris could hear the sound of sirens again in the distance. At last resort, opening the desk drawer and taking out a wind-it up weather and emergency radio, the winding began. One full minute of winding, and the search for a station. Any station. There was only static…