Gran Cienaga
23-03-2006, 05:22
Suburb of Owensboro, Gran Cienaga
March 23, 5:47 AM
The rays of the sun had not yet rose over the horizon and the sky was still holding on to its dark, purplish color. Jim Parker, still wearing nothing but a bathrobe and slippers, stepped out into the warm spring air to fetch his morning paper from the doorstep. He stooped down and picked it up, reading the headlines by the light of the lamp next to the door, not catching any headlines that caught his interest. As he sat down at the kitchen table, he wondered what his wife was making for breakfast, hoping for pancakes and scrambled eggs. Before he could unfold his paper, he heard a sharp cracking sound in the distance, a far away sound that resembled thunder, which wouldn’t have been odd except for the fact that there were no storm clouds in sight. He was barely able to react when the lights in the kitchen violently exploded, sending slivers of glass down the sink drain. Parker also smelled a distinct, pervasive odor, like the smell of smoldering plastic, coming from the outlet. As he rushed upstairs to check in on his wife and kids, he saw the television that he had previously turned off emitting a spooky, bright glow. Staring in disbelief with wide eyes, he bolted up the stairs towards his family and darted towards their bedrooms in complete darkness.
Spring Parlor, Penhalington, Gran Cienaga
March 23, 5:58 AM
“Good morning, President Armacost, I hope you slept decently” the aide said, placing a folder on the president’s desk.
He laughed quickly. “You know that’s a joke. What’s so important that I needed to briefed urgently?” he said with his characteristic drawl.
“You’re not going to like this. Off the southern coast of the island approximately fifteen minutes ago, the power went out along the coast, hitting a large portion of the city of Owensboro and a few suburbs in Avalon.”
“Well don’t we have protocols for this sort of thing?”
The aide hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “It’s not that simple, actually.”
“We’re talking about a blackout, right?”
“I told you that you wouldn’t like this. All evidence seems to point to an EMP weapon as the source of the power outage.”
Armacost sighed heavily, his brow furrowing and wrinkling as his eyes locked onto his aide’s. “Shit, I never thought it’d actually happen here. We need to figure out how to spin this for the public. They won’t take news of a terrorist attack well.”
“It gets worse. This wasn’t a foreign attack, the only aircraft found in the vicinity of the pulse zone was from our own air force.”
Armacost stared in disbelief as his aide sat down and opened the folder he had placed down on the desk. “This is not good.”
March 23, 5:47 AM
The rays of the sun had not yet rose over the horizon and the sky was still holding on to its dark, purplish color. Jim Parker, still wearing nothing but a bathrobe and slippers, stepped out into the warm spring air to fetch his morning paper from the doorstep. He stooped down and picked it up, reading the headlines by the light of the lamp next to the door, not catching any headlines that caught his interest. As he sat down at the kitchen table, he wondered what his wife was making for breakfast, hoping for pancakes and scrambled eggs. Before he could unfold his paper, he heard a sharp cracking sound in the distance, a far away sound that resembled thunder, which wouldn’t have been odd except for the fact that there were no storm clouds in sight. He was barely able to react when the lights in the kitchen violently exploded, sending slivers of glass down the sink drain. Parker also smelled a distinct, pervasive odor, like the smell of smoldering plastic, coming from the outlet. As he rushed upstairs to check in on his wife and kids, he saw the television that he had previously turned off emitting a spooky, bright glow. Staring in disbelief with wide eyes, he bolted up the stairs towards his family and darted towards their bedrooms in complete darkness.
Spring Parlor, Penhalington, Gran Cienaga
March 23, 5:58 AM
“Good morning, President Armacost, I hope you slept decently” the aide said, placing a folder on the president’s desk.
He laughed quickly. “You know that’s a joke. What’s so important that I needed to briefed urgently?” he said with his characteristic drawl.
“You’re not going to like this. Off the southern coast of the island approximately fifteen minutes ago, the power went out along the coast, hitting a large portion of the city of Owensboro and a few suburbs in Avalon.”
“Well don’t we have protocols for this sort of thing?”
The aide hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “It’s not that simple, actually.”
“We’re talking about a blackout, right?”
“I told you that you wouldn’t like this. All evidence seems to point to an EMP weapon as the source of the power outage.”
Armacost sighed heavily, his brow furrowing and wrinkling as his eyes locked onto his aide’s. “Shit, I never thought it’d actually happen here. We need to figure out how to spin this for the public. They won’t take news of a terrorist attack well.”
“It gets worse. This wasn’t a foreign attack, the only aircraft found in the vicinity of the pulse zone was from our own air force.”
Armacost stared in disbelief as his aide sat down and opened the folder he had placed down on the desk. “This is not good.”