when it became evident that this wasn’t a temporary crisis, a breakdown of law and order had swiftly followed
As a once-quaint village town, Nyack had been rendered unrecognizable in a few short months. But not all of its formerly contented residents were now living there in peril. Some had wisely moved away before the town descended into anarchy.
Miles away, tucked in the mountainous ranges along the Hudson River, lived a peaceful community of men, women, and children. As preppers, they lived off the land, away from their homes and out of sight of the general population. They were self-sufficient and independent people, making their way through the crisis that began one fateful Monday morning.
On the day of the mysterious blast, Rob Parker moved his family into their cabin to escape the danger he was certain would follow. He and his wife, Mila, had seen enough in the few short hours following the blast to know that the situation was deadly serious.
They made the treacherous trip from their home in Nyack to New York City to retrieve their two children from a field trip at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. They barely escaped the chaos of the city, which was like nothing Rob had ever seen before. Thousands of people were on the streets, shouting and pushing their way from block to block. Without any explanation behind the loss of power, mobility, and electronic devices, things quickly spiraled out of control in the nation’s most populated city.
A stunning military operation soon took place. Vehicles were bulldozed and swept aside like street litter by cargo trucks, which seemed to have come from nowhere. Soldiers, deployed from helicopters hovering over the city, were determined to bring order to the streets with brute force. The confused and frightened populace were herded off the streets and dispersed to government-mandated areas. No one, it seemed, knew what was going on.
Rob and his family had managed to escape and make it back to his bug-out car: a red 1979 Datsun. It still ran because it had no computer-run parts to destroy.
Many people had their own theories about the September 12th strike. Rob was certain that they had been hit with an EMP—a high-altitude electromagnetic pulse, ignited forty thousand feet in the air. It was the only thing, to his knowledge, capable of dismantling power grids, portable electronics, and the internal circuitry of most modern vehicles.
The sudden loss of the most basic and relied-upon conveniences had frightened people, some believing that the end of days was upon them. But how far had it spread? Beyond New York? No one knew. And without basic communications, all that people could do was speculate.
Saturday, November 19, 2016
Rob leaned against the kitchen counter of his three-bedroom cabin in deep thought. How much longer could they stay there, especially with winter on the horizon? When could they venture back into town? When would it be safe? Such answers remained unknown.
Each day presented new challenges, from rationing their food to getting more, and maintaining a healthy reserve of all necessities. They also had to ensure the security of their camp—consisting of five cabins spread across three acres. They had a twenty-four-hour lookout, and guard shifts were rotated out each day.
Bear Mountain offered the refuge they needed, and at their altitude, they hadn’t encountered anything beyond wildlife. After two months, however, the urge to return home was intensifying among the camp residents. The other families, including Rob’s, feared for loved ones who lived elsewhere. No one knew exactly how far the EMP had reached, and not knowing was the worst part.
As a committed prepper, Rob was prepared to hunker down as long as necessary, though in those early hours of the morning, he contemplated alternatives. He wanted to get a team together and see how Nyack was holding up. Eventually they would need more supplies, too.
Rob knew