America's Sunset: A Post Apocalyptic Fight for Survival (13 page)

Chapter 25 ~ The Big Bang

The big day for Ahmed and Harish went both incredibly well, and incredibly badly. It started off as planned, albeit behind schedule at the airport. The security guard, Andre, was just heading home from his night shift. He was walking, as his car had been disabled from the CME. The first explosion was quiet enough to make Andre think that he was hearing things. He was tired, and it had been a long shift. At first he thought it sounded like a car accident at slow speed. It was enough to make him pause, wondering what cars could possibly be at the airport that he wasn’t aware of.

The second muffled explosion had Andre returning to the terminal to investigate, concerned that something was up. He was definitely not hearing things. By now, the fuel from both tanks was leaking freely and spreading in all directions. The next two explosive charges would light the spreading fuel and threaten the entire airport. Andre first tried the phone in the office, on the off chance that it might be working. It wasn’t; repair crews were still trying to repair essential emergency communication within the city, and the airport wasn’t high on their list. All flights had been grounded, as people were more concerned about having enough food and water than taking a flight anywhere.

Andre headed in the direction from which he had heard the crash noises. He smelled the fumes almost immediately, and saw the slick spreading across the runway. The airport usually had its own unique smell, which included oil, black tar heated from the Texas sun, and airplane fuel. Right now, the smell of airplane fuel overpowered everything else. Luckily for Andre, the first big charge malfunctioned as he headed for the hanger where the fuel spill kits were stored. The airport had just passed its Blue Flag environmental certification last year, and part of it was training all employees to deal with low volume toxic spills. As Andre donned the protective hazmat suit, the second big charge went off.

The tanks had dumped all their fuel by now, and the first of the two secondary charges worked exactly as planned. A sea of fire surrounded the tank farm, spread across the runway and headed for the main terminal. Looking through the hangar door, Andre watched as the burning fuel intensified the early morning sunrise. The burning flames reached the last secondary charge, and it fired. The sea of flame doubled in size, and within seconds the outer walls of the terminal were on fire. Andre dropped the spill kit and made a beeline for the airport gates in his bright yellow hazmat suit, with the unfastened head piece flopping loosely behind him.

The most important thing to consider when blowing up a gas station is not what most people think it is. Normally, people think you need a lot of fuel to get maximum devastation, so they assume that dropping a match down an underground tank should suffice. Not the case. What you want is a lot of fumes. Contrary to what most Hollywood movies would have you believe, gasoline is not nearly as flammable in its liquid state as it is in its gaseous state. A fuel tank that is mostly empty of liquid gasoline but full of gaseous fumes is far more volatile. Luckily for Ahmed and Harish, the fuel supply truck that was on its way with its just-in-time fuel delivery to Big Springs was currently sitting stranded seventy-five miles out of town; another victim of the CME.

The other thing that any good gas station fire needs is time. The longer a fire above the surface can burn, the better chance it has of igniting fuel in the pumps and tanks below the surface. At the first gas station, Ahmed and Harish had decided to place their charges in an abandoned vehicle still parked at the pumps. When the CME struck and people began to realize that ninety percent of their vehicles wouldn’t work, they just deserted them and walked away. Vehicles were abandoned in the road, at traffic lights, in car washes, at 24-hour beer drive-throughs, and at gas stations.

The first vehicle burned slow. An elderly couple passing by took notice, but by the time word of mouth reached the fire department, it was already too late. Multiple vehicles at the station were burning, and the pumps blew. Shortly after that the flames and the heat reached the tanks below the ground, and the entire block shook from the explosion. Every car alarm in the neighborhood would have gone off, if the CME hadn’t already killed them. There was only one lone dispatcher at the fire station anyways, and the crew were already en route to the airport with the only working truck.

The next target was a disappointment for Harish and Ahmed. The propane tanks sold at the grocery store were always kept outside in a locked cage. There had been a rush on tanks earlier, when people realized that their grills might be the only appliances they had for cooking over the next few days. All the tanks in the cage were empty ones. Ahmed and Harish had assumed they were full, hoping to ignite a chain reaction of exploding tanks. Instead, the tanks did hardly more than rattle around in their cage like restless animals at the zoo.

At the power station, an attentive watchman noticed the unusual package sitting near the now quiet transformers and moved it to the hazardous materials vault. He made a note in the log for his morning supervisor. The repair crews were already working around the clock, and he didn’t want to have to bother them with one more thing. The charge went off as the watchman was briefing his supervisor. The vault held, and luckily there were no other materials inside at the time.

People who weren’t already awake that morning soon would be. Even the heaviest sleepers couldn’t have slept through what happened next. If you want to be remembered, it’s essential to be dramatic. Nobody remembers the boring minor problems. Everyone remembers and talks about the perfect storm type disasters. They write books, make movies, and sing songs about the Titanic. Today, Ahmed planned to introduce the people of Big Springs to their perfect storm; their Titanic. Today, he left the biggest target till the end.

The Big Springs water tower was in the center of town. It was an old-style tower slated for replacement. The adjacent property had already been purchased by the city, and the new tower would be one of those with a solid concrete base. The kind that was virtually indestructible—at least by a couple of guys with explosives small enough to fit into a backpack. The old tower, however, was a different story. It was supported by a webbed series of steel L-beams, I-beams and channels with cross bracing; susceptible to rust, and long past the time when any reputable engineer would sign off on its reliability. Hence the new tower plans. There were eight main I-beams that ran the full two hundred and seventy-eight feet from their concrete base to the elevated water tank. It was designed to hold over two hundred thousand gallons of water, but due to its current state, they city established a policy of never filling it over half. Currently, it held seventy four thousand gallons of water. A total weight of almost six hundred thousand pounds, just counting the water. In an area prone to drought, the water tower was literally the life blood of the city.

Harish and Ahmed took position on the tallest building they could find, three city blocks away with a perfect view of the tower. They’d placed two charges on each of the main I-beams. While all the other targets’ detonators were controlled by timers, the detonators on the water tower were controlled by a single radio transmitter in Ahmed’s pocket. He wanted to witness this one. Ahmed waited until it was officially daybreak before he pushed the single button on the transmitter. While they could easily see the tower’s tank from where they stood, Harish had binoculars to observe the explosive charges. Ahmed wanted him to confirm the sixteen small explosions—wired in series—as they went off.

Harish sounded them off in sequence. “One … success. Two … success. Three … success. Four … fail. Five … fail.”

Ahmed swore uncharacteristically. “Damn it, Harish, I told you to double and triple check that wiring.”

Harish continued with a slight tremor in his voice. “Six … fail.” Ahmed shook his head without taking his eyes off the tower. An ever so light creaking sound could be heard from the tower. “Seven … success. Eight … success. Nine … fail. Ten … success. Eleven … fail.”

Harish shifted slightly away from Ahmed, who resisted the urge to take his eyes off the tower. The remaining five charges all went off, except for one, but the tower still remained. Ahmed wondered if the structure could have been emptied. Was it possible that after the CME people had panicked and started hording water, draining the tower?

Just as Ahmed looked away from the tower to his brother, he heard the sound of steel grinding on steel. Ahmed grabbed the binoculars from Harish in time to see the first I-beam buckle. Then the second gave way. The tower canted like an over-exaggerated Tower of Pisa. The third and fourth beams held, straining to support the weight of their failed neighbors. Finally, the remaining beams gave way, and the whole structure fell in slow motion towards the original cotton mill in the city, now an historic site. The turbulent, violent collision of steel and old brick building was more than Ahmed could have hoped for. The sound of thunder filled the downtown as dust rose in the air, walls toppled, and water flooded the surrounding streets.

Ahmed could barely contain himself. He paced rapidly back and forth across the rooftop, holding his arms in the air and looking to the heavens. “The irony of it all is sweet, is it not, Harish? The infidels are under attack from fire, water and crumbling mortar. It’s biblical; albeit compared to what is yet to come it is insignificant. But today, it will loom large in the eyes of these infidels. Fire, water and earth are raining down on them in the midst of an already epic collapse brought on by their evil ways. Just wait till word of this spreads like the wind to other cities and states and countries. Imagine the conversations they will be having in Washington, once they realize this is only one city of many suffering under the will of Allah today. Even better, imagine the conversations the infidels in the other cities will be having once they know the full picture.”

“It has gone better than I had thought it would, brother,” Harish said quietly as he watched the last wall of the cotton mill crumble. “I must admit that I doubted we could make this happen. You were right. I should have had more faith in you.”

Ahmed put his arm around his brother. “Your faith can surprise you sometimes. I knew you had it in you all along; I could see it there. Your life has not been an easy one, and I understand how quickly one can lose their way under the weight of the world. You will find your way once again. We will find it together.”

“The Imam will be pleased.” Harish took a deep breath. “Perhaps this is enough then? Maybe this is enough for them to allow us to come home, without striking against Dawson Chambers and his family.”

“Why the hesitation now, Harish? Things are coming to fruition as we planned. There is no need to stop early. The Imam will not be happy if we do not complete all elements of our mission.”

“It’s different. Taking out physical targets is one thing, but striking out at a real person? An entire family?”

“Don’t forget about the repercussions of our attacks today. We may not have directly taken a life, but we have shattered what few lifelines these infidels have left. Desperation will set in. They will do to one another what we could never do on our own. They will rain down even more destruction on each others lives. They will shoot each other now for a precious bottle of water, or container of fuel. We will have pushed them that much closer to pulling the trigger. While you may feel a sense of distant innocence here, you’re only deceiving yourself.” Harish didn’t say anything, but stared at the water from the tower flowing through the streets and down sewer drains. “Listen to your faith, Harish. Let it awaken. Even if you don’t believe me, believe in your faith.”

The night before the explosions rocked the small town, many went to bed with a determined pioneering spirit in their hearts. Their town leaders were reaching out to them, and asking that people stick together and help one another whenever possible in this difficult time. The town hall meeting that evening had lifted their spirits. They knew there were still some major obstacles to overcome, but many felt strongly that together they could recover.

In spite of the difficulties the citizens of Big Springs were experiencing, many were determined not to let things beyond their control deter them from their lives. Routine was a good thing. It was important to maintain a sense of normalcy amongst the disruptions. Where possible, people went to work, did their chores, and children went to school. Little did they know what was in store for them as they went to sleep with hopes of a better tomorrow.

The public school transportation department had managed to get one old school bus running. It was an older one that had only been kept as a backup and hadn’t officially made a run in over two years. It would take several runs to get all the kids to school, but the kids on the late run didn’t seem upset with the prospect of extra sleep and arriving late for school. There had been a lot of explaining in some families as to why the kids still had to go to school during a power outage. How could the school still be open? The concepts of a pioneering spirit and the importance of maintaining daily routines fell on young, deaf ears. But it didn’t change the fact that a very full school bus with three to a seat made its way to the elementary school extra early that day.

It was a noisier bus than usual, but driver Birdie Piper didn’t mind this morning. She’d been at the town meeting the night before and to be honest was skeptical that they could all come together. She’d grown up in Big Springs and seen a lot of changes over the years. These last few years had been the toughest on people she’d ever seen. It seemed like the whole country was against them at times. Big corporations from out of state were buying up real estate for pennies on the dollar after the small businesses that owned the buildings fell into bankruptcy. State and federal agencies weren’t much help, and seemed hell bent on making things harder with more taxes and regulations. She knew that as a long-time citizen of Big Springs people valued her opinion, so she kept her thoughts to herself during the meeting. She’d expected a half-full bus at best this morning, but was pleasantly surprised. Every stop she made had kids waiting for her, often with Mom and Dad there to see them off.