Dark Days: The Long Road Home ✪ free preview

Chapter 2.2

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Gemma stared stupidly at the shrieking woman, her mind still reeling as the full implications of what she believed had just happened sank in. Any other time she may have had some sympathy for the woman, but it couldn't have been any more than fifteen minutes since the plane went down. If she was right, life as they knew it had changed forever.

The woman looked to be in her early twenties, and had long, wavy platinum blonde hair. She was clutching at her face with bright red, perfectly manicured nails that matched her lipstick. Her impressive assets bulged out of a sheer white shirt, and the red scrap of material that passed for a skirt was as shiny as her impossibly high heels.

Raising an eyebrow at Christopher, Gemma moved quickly to the woman, and put a gentle hand on her shoulder to get her attention.

The woman turned towards Gemma, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps between her screams, her blue eyes startled and uncomprehending.

On the other side of the room, Christopher and a tall, distinguished looking man with salt and pepper hair moved to the window, their voices low.

Gemma had no idea what to say to the woman, and doubted she would have heard anything she said anyway. She was verging way past hysterical.

Thankfully the woman stopped screaming, her breath still hitching in her chest as her eyes suddenly brimmed with tears. “He’s dead,” she said.

“Is he your father?” Gemma asked, hoping to engage the woman in conversation in an effort to keep her calm.

“Father?” the woman almost blew Gemma's ear drum out. “That’s my husband,” she pulled away from Gemma, her eyes tight little blue balls of venom.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” Gemma apologized.

The woman ignored her, stalking towards Christopher and the man he was talking to. “When are you going to do something about the phone?” she snapped.

Gemma rolled her eyes, glad when Anne linked her arm through the woman’s, guiding her towards the door. “Come on, Sasha dear, let’s go get you a nice cold drink of water.”

“I’ll be needing something a lot stronger than water,” Sasha snapped.

You’re not the only one, Gemma sighed, glancing briefly at the dead man. She had only seen one dead person before, and wasn’t at all comfortable in the presence of death. She hadn’t even been able to make herself view Caroline’s body, it bought back too many memories of the past.

A shiver trembled through her, and Christopher turned, his eyes darkening. He moved quickly towards her, his head jerking towards the couch. “Come on, let’s go somewhere else.”

Christopher took Gemma's arm, one hand on her back as he guided her out of the room.

“Gemma, this is my associate, Donavon,” Christopher introduced her to the man following them.

Gemma nodded her head at the grave looking Donavon as they moved into the corridor.

The older man’s voice shook slightly when he spoke, his response automatic. “Lovely to meet you, Gemma.”

Gemma murmured a soft hello, her mind torn between the past and the future. The year before last one of her students had literally terrified the crap out of her when he handed in the science paper he'd been working on for extra credit. The end of the world as we know it. If it had of been any other student, Gemma might have laughed at the dramatic title, but Mathew Spencer wasn't just any kid.

Diagnosed with Asperger's, a form of autism, Mathew's world was black and white. There was no in between.

He took every word literally, didn't understand jokes, and spoke the plain truth without exaggeration of any sort.

Filled with facts and statistics, Mathew's paper had Gemma heading for the internet to do further research, and played no small part in the purchase of the small hobby farm she'd bought.

At the time she told herself she was just being sentimental - she had grown up on a farm as a child, and had been looking to purchase something anyway, although a small apartment was more within her budget. Even though it seemed a little on the wrong side of paranoid at the time, she'd managed to scrape together what she needed for the deposit.

It had been the best thing she'd ever done, she loved the peace and quiet, and had always dreamed of owning her own farm. Even though it was small, it was large enough that she had fresh eggs on demand, a vegetable patch, and quite a few fruit trees. And then there was her pride and joy - the strawberry patch.

More than once she had silently thanked Mathew. If it hadn't been for his paper, she would have been living in a small apartment in town.

She could almost remember the opening paragraph word for word, Mathew's stark, matter of fact way of writing had burned it into her brain.

An electro-magnetic pulse, also known as an EMP, will bring about the end of the world as we know it. EMPs can be caused by solar storms or by nuclear weapons detonated high in the atmosphere. When it happens the power grids will fail and we will lose all of our electricity. This means there will be no water, heating, gas or sanitation. The EMP will burn out computer circuits. This means planes, most cars, computers, phones, pacemakers and anything with computer chips will stop working. Within the first few minutes in America alone, between 250 000 and 500 000 people will die. By the time order is restored nine in ten people will be dead. Depending on the source and strength of the EMP experts say that it could take anywhere from a few months to a decade to restore the damage done by an EMP.

Gemma felt a chill pass through her. If the predictions were right, it was possible that half a million people were already dead; the plane had just been the beginning. How many people had been in the air when it happened? How many people relied on pacemakers or other machines to survive?

It was too hard to think about; the only thing she knew was that it was time to get out of the city and back to CJ. And the sooner the better.