36 Hours: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction Series (3 page)

Finally, the monitor drawing the most attention of the scientists at ALMA that day provided the latest images from SOHO—the Solar and Heliospheric Observatory. These solar snapshots revealed activity on the sun’s surface such as coronal holes, low-density regions of the sun’s atmosphere that were the source of high-speed winds of solar particles that streamed off the sun into space. As a coronal hole released the sun’s magnetic fields, soaring up and away from the surface, they created the conditions necessary for a solar flare.

Dr. Stanford turned her attention to Jose, who had returned with her coffee. She took a sip and allowed the rush of steaming caffeine to hit her body. She doubted the jolt was needed, as excitement-fueled anxiety would be readily available.

“Thank you, Jose,” said Dr. Stanford, who then asked Daniels, “Deb, do we have a designation yet?”

“The next numbered active region will be 3222,” replied Daniels.

Dr. Stanford took another sip of coffee. She muttered under her breath, “Show yourself, AR3222.”

The room remained quiet as the sun slowly rotated on the screen. Twenty-four hours prior, a coronal hole developed and released a series of non-earth directed X-flares. Solar flares were rated as class B, C, N, or X, with X-class being the most powerful.

This active region released an X1.8-class solar flare as its final hurrah yesterday. The bright flash of light observed on the SOHO monitors was the largest of the year so far. But it didn’t approach the more massive X20 flares of April 2001 and August 1989. Twenty times the size of yesterday’s eruption, those flares caused massive power outages in the northern United States and Canada.

Yesterday, the coronal hole caught the attention of the JAO Team because it was expanding upon the sun’s surface as it rotated out of view. Dr. Stanford knew if the trend continued, today could be a potentially historic solar event.

In the same hemisphere of the sun as yesterday’s eruption, a sunspot region appeared on the disk that followed the same trajectory as the previous AR. The monitors began to reveal more. At first, two coronal holes appeared—clustered together. The sun continued to rotate.

“Whoa,” Jose leaned in and whispered into Dr. Stanford’s ear.

“My God,” she said aloud. Dr. Stanford watched in amazement as the largest coronal hole ever recorded rotated into view, followed by two smaller voids. The entire active region consumed the northern hemisphere of the sun.

AR3222 was now on full display.

Chapter 2

36 Hours

11:00 a.m., September 7

Dallas Cowboys—AT&T Stadium

Irving, Texas

“Nice throw. Nice throw!” yelled Jerry Jones, owner of the Dallas Cowboys, as he applauded a throw by his rookie quarterback from Mississippi State which hit his all-pro receiver right in the numbers. Jones turned to his entourage and continued. “Did you see that kid hit Dez on the go route? He has to make that throw perfectly, hitting his target in stride. That’s NFL precision from a fourth-round pick!”

Colton Ryman smiled and nodded as if he knew what the owner of the most lucrative sports franchise in history was talking about. Colton enjoyed watching football, but he wasn’t into the nuances of the game, and clearly had no clue what a
go route
was.

Colton’s passion was music. It was in his blood. His ancestor, Captain Thomas Ryman, built the Union Gospel Tabernacle in Nashville in the late eighteen hundreds, but it wasn’t until his death in 1904 that the building became known as Ryman Auditorium.

In 1925, an insurance company installed a radio station in the auditorium that had been designed to replace the traditional revival tent used by his friend Reverend Sam Jones. WSM, which stood for
We Shield Millions
—the company’s motto—started a tradition of country music in Nashville beginning with the Grand Ole Opry and continuing with the concerts of the biggest stars of today. The rest was history.

Jones continued with the tour of AT&T Stadium, home of the Dallas Cowboys since 2008. “Last year, we enjoyed playing at Wembley Stadium in London, but it was a logistical nightmare for team operations. On a personal basis, and speaking for the Dallas Cowboys, we would very much like a team in London. It has cachet. It has an air about it of international competition. It would be good for the league.”

And good for your wallet, I suspect
. Colton might not understand the finer points of football, but he understood the intricacies of the entertainment business. Jerry Jones was a master of entertainment, and the NFL was his playing field. Colton was honored to be in the
game
.

At thirty-nine, Colton had reached the top echelons of the entertainment and media business. Born in Austin, Texas, and with the Ryman blood flowing through his veins, he longed for a country music career. Music became his life, but he quickly learned that opportunities for guitar-pickin’ cowboys were slim and talent was abundant.

Colton discovered he had a genetic disposition toward business. When the Ryman family migrated from Chattanooga, Tennessee to the hill country of Central Texas along with Davy Crockett in 1835, they became known as traders and merchants. From Fort Worth to Austin, the Ryman name became synonymous with cattle and oil. He learned the art of business and negotiation from his daddy, who learned from his daddy before him.

The summer before he started college at SMU in Dallas, he hung out around the music venues of the Dallas metroplex. From the White Elephant Saloon and Billy Bob’s in Fort Worth to Adair’s in Dallas, Colton enjoyed the sights and sounds of country music.

The day he announced his decision to forego his education at SMU for the entertainment and media management curriculum at UCLA, his momma cried. She wasn’t ready to lose her only son to the real world yet. At SMU, she could have kept an eye on Colton and protected him. But his daddy was proud of his decision. Colton was a born negotiator and was pursuing his passion, just like the Rymans before him.

Jones took Colton’s client by the arm and led him onto the field as the practice session began to break up. Kenny Chesney had already signed as the lead performer for the upcoming Super Bowl hosted by Dallas, and the rest of the talent was being lined up. His client, Eric Church, was working his way up the Billboard charts as one of the top country artists in the nation. Securing a position in the Super Bowl halftime show would be a huge boost for his popularity and a monumental leap for Colton’s career.

As managing partner of United Talent’s Nashville office, he was already one of the most respected figures in the business. But after the most watched television program in history featured two decades of rap and rock performances, this was a rare opportunity for him to insert his country stock into the biggest spectacle in television entertainment—the Super Bowl.

“Whadya think, Colton?” asked Church. “You think we can pack this house?”

“Dang straight!” replied Colton.

“I think they wanna bring in Keith to do ‘Raise ’Em Up’ with me. How the heck am I gonna keep my feet on the ground for the next five months?”

“That’s my job, buddy,” replied Colton, trying to control his own emotional high.
Who’s gonna keep my feet on the ground?

Church approached Colton and spoke quietly. “What kinda numbers we talkin’, Mr. Agent?”

“We’ll go over that in the morning, hoss,” replied Colton. “You’ve gotta gig tonight and I don’t need you distracted. I have another meeting with the NFL folks tomorrow before you and I can talk.”

Colton didn’t have the heart to tell Church that his paycheck from the NFL and CBS was a big fat
ZERO
. The Super Bowl Halftime Show was the biggest platform in the world to promote yourself as an artist. The performers did not get paid. The NFL covered the expenses and production costs, which could run upwards of twenty million dollars. The benefit to Church, and others like him, would come following the Super Bowl as he released his new album and kicked off his eighth concert tour. Ticket sales and music downloads would increase significantly, resulting in the well-earned payoff.

Jones stopped the procession and pointed toward the video board over their heads. “This is the world’s largest HD video display,” said Jones. The massive sixty-yard side display stretched across most of the field. He continued. “There are two hundred thousand tons of concert rigging up there. The capabilities of Cowboys stadium will make this the greatest, most talked about halftime show in history.”

“We’d be honored to be a part of it, Mr. Jones,” said Colton. Colton looked at the inner workings of the stadium. Wires and electronics traversed the structure.
I’d hate to see their electric bill
.

Chapter 3

36 Hours

11:11 a.m., September 7

Davidson Academy

Nashville, Tennessee

Alexis Ryman was settling into her sophomore year at Davidson Academy. As a freshman last year, she’d participated in most school activities available to her, but the lesson curriculum was a giant leap from middle school. Alex found herself studying for the first time and followed her interests from childhood, which included science, golf, and to a much lesser extent, cute boys.

She promised herself she’d never become a
twit
, which was Alex’s designation for teenage girls who gained the attention of boys by acting ditzy, silly, and foolish. Her love of golf taught her that practice made perfect, as the old saying went. The more these girls practiced being a
twit
, the better they would become at it.

Besides, she proudly inherited her mother’s good looks although Alex would never aspire to be a debutante like her mom. Alex was not shy, but she was not interested in fighting the wars that accompanied the world of high society. Her family didn’t live like that, and she had no interest in it.

Unlike most of her girlfriends, Alex had an aptitude for math and science. She was not a geek per se, although her tall, lanky frame did make her appear clumsy to some. One of her friends commented that she resembled Jamie Lee Curtis, who played Laurie Strode in the movie
Halloween
. Alex wasn’t sure if she was being insulted or not, so she watched the movie scene where Laurie strolled down the sidewalk in her flowered skirt, carrying her schoolbooks.
Okay, maybe she did walk a little pigeon-toed.

As teenaged girls went, Alex was a model daughter and an honor high school student. Her grades were perfect, never a hint of trouble, and she shunned the advances of the boys who had a single purpose on their mind—sex. At fifteen, she was fully aware of the games they played, and she wouldn’t fall victim to their overtures. Dates were fine and curfews were met. If you didn’t like the rules, move along to someone else.

Mr. Stark, her astronomy teacher, began to write on the blackboard, causing the class to get ready for the lecture. Davidson Academy was one of the finest private schools in Nashville. Its admission requirements were stringent, and the academics were designed to prepare its students for college. High schools in the Metro Nashville system focused on conformity to rules and a set curriculum. Davidson fostered independent thinking. From her middle school days there through the present, she was taught to be an independent thinker. Students were encouraged to challenge conventional wisdom and learn
how to think
and not
what to think
.

As he finished, Stark set the chalk in the tray and pointed to the blackboard—
Solar Sleuths
. “For the first four weeks of this semester, we’ve covered the basics of astronomy and the physics of the universe,” said Stark. Then he channeled his sci-fi hero and continued, “Adventure, excitement, a Jedi craves not these things.”

The class laughed as one of the guys recognized the quote and chimed in, “But, Master Yoda, it is the lightsaber which excites me most!”

Stark continued to play along. “Young Jedis, you must unlearn what you have learned.”

“Yeah!” shouted one.

“Alright!” added another.

“Okay, calm down, y’all.” Stark moved to restore order. “I didn’t mean that literally. The universe is vast. We needed to get an overview under your belt before we start to talk about specifics. Today, young skulls full of mush, I will turn you into Jedi Solar Sleuths.”

This piqued Alex’s interest and she sat up in her seat. Stark wrote the word
SUN
on the board and circled it several times.

Alex was puzzled. Their homework assignment had nothing to do with the sun.

“It all begins here,” he started. “Without the sun, there is no life on earth. Without the sun’s heat and light, the earth would be a lifeless, enormous ice ball. The sun’s energy warms our seas, stirs our atmosphere, generates our weather patterns, and provides the photosynthesis to grow green plant life, which is vital to produce oxygen and food on our planet.”

Alex agreed. Naturally, it was fun to speculate on the topic of
are we alone?
One of the first books she read was
Contact
by Carl Sagan. She lay in bed at night, imagining herself as Ellie, and Jodie Foster, who played the character in the movie. Her imagination would wander to the massive power the sun held, and what would happen if it burned out. The risk of not using sunscreen was minor in comparison to the sun suddenly going dark.

Her mind drifted until Stark brought her back into the classroom with a question. “Alex, what causes an aurora?”

She sat up in her chair and replied, “An aurora is also called the
northern lights
. Sometimes the sun shoots out particles of energy that collide with our upper atmosphere. The result is a beautiful mix of colors near the earth’s poles.”

“Good start,” he said. “Auroras are produced when the earth’s magnetosphere is disturbed by the solar winds filled with highly charged electrons and protons.”