up and down the long corridor. Lee saw two middle-aged, semi-overweight men dressed in the typical American Vegas tourist clothing consisting of golf shirts, long shorts, and sneakers. The two loud and probably half-drunk men were in the hall a few doors down on the right, furiously kicking at their room door. Other heads and partial bodies were leaning out several doors, watching the two irritated patrons doing their best to break into what Lee only hoped was their room.
A middle-aged woman, who reminded Lee of Peg from the Married with Children TV show, was standing in her door across the hall in between his room and the two pissed-off drunks. She spoke up directing her question to them, causing a temporarily pause of their determined breaking and entering attempt.
“What’s going on?” the woman asked.
One of the men turned and answered, “Power’s out all over. The casino TVs came on with the emergency broadcast system but then just went black. We heard someone say that one of the TV news stations said something about a nuke going off in Washington. Bout then all the stations went out. And there was a big ass plane crash North of here. We heard the screaming noise of the plane just before the explosion. There is a big fucking fire burning. We walked up here from the Freemont Street. Now these goddamn electronic locks are busted too. Cell phones are all dead. Everyone is getting really pissed downstairs.”
“Is that your room?” the woman asked.
“No, lady, we are just kicking in the door of some other room. Yes, this is our fucking room. You better not let your door close or you will be in the same shit tuna boat as us,” said one of the irritated men.
Without another word to the two angry men, the woman in the doorway turned back into her room and closed the door. Many conversations were starting up and down the hall between various guests all standing partially in their doorways. Lee closed his door and went back to the window. Looking outside, he could see there was no real change outside. It was total blackness except for vehicle lights and the big fire. The headlamps of the cars provided some light at street level. Lee could see many cars had the hoods up and people leaning into the engine compartments. As much as Lee was hoping for another explanation, his suspicion was starting to make terrible sense. This was not just a power outage. This was far worse. This much damage was an EMP, or Electro Magnetic Pulse. An EMP was a high-power surge of energy, which theory agreed was capable of taking down the power grids and sensitive electronics. There were two main EMP scenarios. First was a massive solar flare. Few scientists and engineers thought a solar flare could inflict this kind of damage on the power system plus kill nearly every car in Las Vegas. The other cause was a high-altitude nuclear detonation. Many experts feared the effect of a nuke EMP. The government had been studying EMPs since the late 1940s. It was generally accepted the United States and Russia had EMP weapons in their respective arsenals. Most studies recognized the possibility of vehicle and electronics damage. Some even feared that modern aircraft would fall from the sky if hit with a nuclear blast produced EMP. The military spends billions of dollars to protect their equipment; that alone might prove the likelihood of EMP damage. Well, maybe all the facts are now proven. What the angry door kickers said about the TV broadcasts and then emergency broadcast signals all fit. It felt likely to Lee the United States was at war.
Lee went to the desk, opened his laptop, and hit the power button. The small PC booted up as normal.
Perhaps being unplugged saved it? Lee thought.
Lee selected the icon for wireless networks, and nothing showed up. That was no surprise. He turned on his small cellular hot spot wireless but ended with the same result as his cell phone. No signal.
Decision time. Do I wait until daylight? Lee asked himself.
If the United States was now at war including the use of an EMP, power was not coming on soon. Dead cars would not miraculously start running. Lee’s car was in the garage. Was it possible his car and other cars avoided damage because they were inside the multilevel concrete structure? Lee needed to find out. He thought, however, that down nineteen floors would be a one-way trip. If he got to his car and found it electronically cooked like the ones visible from the windows, he would be forced to become a serious survivalist. Lee would be walking. Moreover, if the EMP had happened, this city would die a quick death. Thousands of visitors and residents would be in dire trouble. Adequate help would not be coming anytime soon. Food, water, and transportation would be a commodity ordinary people would start killing for. A running car could be a death sentence if you stayed in this town.
Lee decided. He packed his duffel with clothes and bathroom stuff. He would scrounge useful items from the room and sort the stuff out at his car, which he hoped against all odds was running. He stuffed the bag full including the computer. He put on sneakers, jeans, T-shirt, and a loose-fitting overshirt. It was early September and warm outside, but he went for jeans versus shorts. He then stuck the LC-9 in his right pocket and the other full magazine in his left rear pocket. He went to the window and took one last look out. The fire was still raging and continuing to spread consuming more and more buildings. The smell of smoke was penetrating the room. Lee guessed it was coming through the simple window air conditioner units that adorned most hotel rooms.
Lee put the duffel over his neck and one shoulder, put the flashlight in his left hand, palmed the Ruger one more time, went to the door, and cautiously opened it. The two drunks had seemingly gotten their door open, as they were gone. A couple of people were talking between rooms further down the hall. Lee put the security arm out to keep the door from latching, moved out into the hall, and headed toward the stairs.
The stairs were crowded with people—some coming up, some coming down. People were talking among their groups or to strangers while passing in the stairwell.
“What do you think happened?”
“Plane crash.”
“Terrorists.”
“Hoover dam broke.”
“Nuclear war.”
“Emergency broadcast was cut off.”
“Washington nuked.”
Lee heard all kinds of talk and guesses. However, not a single person said EMP. Lee knew from his own discussions with people and friends the public was mostly naive to EMP. Partly because the government rarely brought it up. Most serious preppers feel the government has no solution, so why talk about it? So most Americans had no clue. Of course, Lee was still assuming an EMP was the cause. Lee did not talk much to anyone in the stairwell, and he surely did not say EMP. Hell was going to break loose in Las Vegas, and Lee wanted to be out of town as soon as possible. Is it selfish? he thought. No, he had prepared for this possibility. Even after constant reminders about being ready for an emergency most people did nothing in preparation for the slightest hiccup in their cozy lives.
Lee came out of the stairwell and into the casino, lit by emergency lights. Hundreds of people were milling around. The employees were trying to keep calm and answer questions, but they looked even more fearful than the civilians. They probably knew they would be vulnerable when these pissed-off people started taking out frustration on anyone with any authority.
Lee kept moving. He kept the flashlight off and hidden, not wanting to lose it. He made his way to an exit, out, and down the street to the parking garage. It was a warm fall evening in Vegas. Temperature was in the eighties, Lee guessed. Dry as usual for the desert. Thankfully, Lee thought about how he had parked his own car and not used valet. He would usually park his own car. What good would a bag full of survival gear be if he could not even find his car, was something Lee considered whenever tempted to use a valet. It was quite dark outside, but dozens of emergency lights produced a glow from buildings making navigating easy. Most stores had closed and pulled down
