Aurora(30)
He took a deep, contented breath. All was in order.
Except for one thing. One detail that still wasn’t crossed off his list, a wrinkle that refused to be ironed down. His sister.
He picked up his satellite phone from the table and dialed her number. It didn’t even ring on the other end. She hadn’t bothered to turn it on.
Fighting back his initial flash of anger at her stubborn foolishness, he tapped the phone on his lips, thinking. Aubrey was not ready. Aubrey had refused to be ready, despite everything he’d done and said. Aubrey, in some way, was doing this to spite him.
But Aubrey must be protected. Aubrey must be repaid. That had always been the case, and it was no different now. The situation just called for stronger measures. A freezer, a phone, an armed guard, a lifetime supply of power—none of that was going to make any difference, and none of it was going to even be possible to arrange within the next few days or weeks. There was only one thing that would matter for any of them in the new world, and of that thing, Thom had control. A lot of control.
Thom raised the phone again and picked another number. Brady answered on the first ring.
“You OK, Mr. Banning?”
“All fine here. Is your power down?”
“Yup. ’Bout ten minutes ago. Do you need something, sir?”
Thom smiled tightly. Brady. Thank God for Brady. Decent, reliable, unmarried Brady. “Yes. I need you here. As soon as possible. I want you to pick up a certain amount of cash from me here and drive it across the country, to my sister.”
Brady paused. “Now?”
“Yes. Leave tonight, if you can. I’m worried about her.”
“How much cash are we talking about, sir?”
“Two hundred and fifty thousand ought to do it.”
Brady said nothing.
“Are you still there?” Thom asked.
“I’m here.”
“What’s the matter?”
“A quarter million is a lot of cash to be driving around with right now.”
“I know, and I’ll be grateful. When I get word that she’s received it, twice that amount will be transferred into your bank account.”
“How are you going to do that, sir,” Brady asked, not unreasonably, “with the power out?”
“There are backup systems. It’ll be fine. Are we going to keep books, now? You know I’m good for it.”
As a joke it was unfunny, and it fell flat, Brady thought. A self-described problem-solver, he did not appreciate when problems were merely perceived, or created, or urgent situations were catastrophized into existence. Doubtless, a quarter of a million dollars did not need to be ferried across the country right this minute, in the early stages of what was probably a worldwide blackout. Contrary to his boss’s opinion, he did have a life of his own. He weighed that life and those concerns against the value he placed on his job and the pride he took in it, and he stifled his urge to tell his boss to shut up and go to bed.
When Brady spoke again, his tone was soft but firm. “I can’t make it by tomorrow. But I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He hung up.
Thom tossed his phone on the couch and looked out the windows again, pleased. OK, so Brady was a little grumpy about it, but he’d do it. Brady always got it done, no matter how unpleasant the task. Brady was his Man, and his Man would handle this thing, and for once Aubrey wouldn’t be in a position to refuse help.
He looked out at the majestic western skies, lit up like daytime.
He looked down at the stained-glass Tiffany lamp on the end table nearest him. The room was brightly lit by nature’s glorious light show outside, but Thom reached down and turned the switch on the lamp anyway.
The frosted bulb glowed, lighting the irregular, hand-blown glass panels.
Thom smiled.
He still had power.
Rusty Wheeler sat in the folding lawn chair on his front walk and looked around his darkened neighborhood. People were out, hooting and hollering and generally making assholes of themselves.
Rusty took a long pull from the can of Pabst Blue Ribbon in his hand, probably the last good cold one he’d have for quite a while, and he thought about things. He looked up, at the row of darkened streetlights all up and down the road, through the entire neighborhood, across the whole city, the state, the entire country, and maybe the world. Or so they said.
OK, so he’d been wrong about the solar deal. But there was one thing Rusty knew for sure. Opportunities were about to present themselves.
When nothing works, anything goes.
Part II
Decay
11.
San Francisco
The drive from San Francisco to Provo was eleven hours with no traffic, but Brady didn’t leave right away after Thom summoned him. There were a few things he needed to tend to at home before going. He had no wife or kids of his own, and his only significant relationship was with his longtime girlfriend, Paula. The fires of romance were turned down to a barely perceptible level between them, though; they hadn’t been sexual in years and only saw each other once every few weeks. Brady wasn’t even sure what kind of relationship it was anymore, other than one of habit. He stopped by her place outside of Mill Valley to check on her in the immediate aftermath of the power going out, and she professed to be fine. Paula was even more of a loner than Brady was, and he believed her when she told him that she didn’t anticipate any real discernible change in her lifestyle without electricity, except perhaps that she’d get out less. Some of Thom’s prepper obsession had rubbed off on Brady, and then onto Paula. She had a basement full of canned goods, a generator with plenty of gas that she kept in a shed out back, and there were, of course, her cats to take care of.