Chapter 1
Most people didn’t enjoy the simple life. They wanted complex and dangerous. But not John Carver. He enjoyed the predictable nature of his daily routine. He had no desire for unneeded risk.
It was the smell of fresh-cut wood that John Carver loved most about the job. No matter where he worked construction, that smell was always the same. It didn’t matter if he worked on apartment buildings or a single-family home; that scent always reminded him he was doing good work.
“Carver!”
John removed his gloved hands from the table saw and turned to find the Site Manager, Tim Meadows, glaring at him. He was new to the company and wasn’t the man you wanted to cross paths with. He was not intimidating, but John wasn’t in the mood for an earful.
“Why are you here?” Tim Meadows was the only man on the worksite dressed in a collared shirt and dress shoes, which he desperately tried to keep clean. He hadn’t been successful.
“I’m working, Mr. Meadows,” John answered respectfully.
“You’re supposed to be done with this room already,” Meadows said, pointing to his clipboard. “It’s past eleven; you’re three rooms behind!”
John glanced around the room he was framing for the drywall installation. Their latest job was an affordable housing project in southern Cincinnati. He was nearly finished and was already working as fast as he could.
“It takes time to ensure everything is squared and level,” John answered.
“You’re costing the company money,” Meadows answered. “The longer it takes you to finish these rooms, the more hours it will cost us to pay for the drywallers just to sit around and do nothing.”
“I already discussed our plan with George,” John answered. “He told me I had at least five days, but I told him I could finish in probably three or four. This is only the first day.”
“I don’t care what George told you,” Meadows answered. “I’m the project manager for the site, and when I tell you to do something, I want it done. No excuses.”
Ever since Meadows had become a manager, he had been hell-bent on moving a crew as fast as possible.
However, working at a breakneck pace often led to accidents and poor craftsmanship.
They had already failed a few inspections on other projects and had to redo them.
Of course, Meadows blamed everybody but himself.
“Look, I understand that you need to hit your quotas,” John answered, “but I need to ensure I’m doing quality work.”
“Quality work?” Meadows asked, incredulous. “Look around you, John. This is affordable housing. It doesn’t matter what we put together so long as it’s standing when we leave.”
“It doesn’t matter who hired us to do the job,” John said, “or how much it costs. Everyone is entitled to living in a home that was built properly.”
“Then let me make this as simple for you as possible,” Meadows said. “If you don’t have this entire floor done by the end of the day, you will be fired.”
“It’s impossible to do that by myself,” John said.
“That’s not my problem,” Meadows replied, and with that, he walked away, leaving John high and dry to figure out what to do next.
John stood alone in the room. He glanced around at the walls and all the work that needed to be completed. The only way for him to do this all by himself was if he cut corners. And that was something he refused to do.
John’s father always warned him that cutting corners was dangerous. It was easy to do, and once he started down that path, it wasn’t long before he would stop caring about the job entirely. And he was taught to always have pride in his work.
John stepped outside and saw the other crews working on the houses on the cleared lots.
Everybody was sweating under the hot summer sun.
Most of the guys would skip lunch to meet Meadows’s timeline.
The man would drive everybody into the dirt, and John feared they would lose the good employees when they were pushed to the brink of exhaustion.
They had already lost their best electrician to another company.
He had refused to work with Meadows. But Meadows had a family friend high within the company.
It was the only reason he had gotten a job.
He had come to the office with his brand-new MBA from Cincinnati University, which he believed gave him the right to talk to anybody however he wanted.
If John’s parents hadn’t taught him patience, then he probably would’ve quit long ago. But he still believed in the work they were trying to do within the company. And he happened to enjoy it.
Plus, there were still plenty of good employees at the company. One of them was his best friend, who happened to be their lead plumber. And if there was anybody John could count on, it was Jake Simpson.
“Jake!” John shouted, spying his friend in the house next door.
Jake and John had grown up together in Cincinnati. They were as close as brothers. Aside from his wife, there was nobody John trusted more than Jake.
“In here!” Jake shouted.
John followed the sound of his friend’s voice into the almost-finished kitchen of the house next door, where he found his friend underneath a kitchen sink, only his lower half visible.
A radio on the countertop played a news channel.
“Our top story this morning comes as the notorious bank robber, Dillon Elliot, is set to be arraigned today. Dillon was the mastermind behind the robbery of Cincinnati Federal Reserve Bank. Dillon and his men stole one hundred million dollars from the bank. Authorities captured him trying to flee the city, but while Dillon was recovered, the money remains missing.”
John turned the radio down, catching Jake’s attention.
“Where do you think that money’s hidden?” Jake asked, still under the sink.
“Not sure,” John answered. “Do you have a minute?”
Jake grunted, finishing something, then slid out from beneath the sink.
He was dressed in faded blue jeans, even more faded work boots, and a white T-shirt drenched in sweat.
He never wore a hard hat unless he was forced to.
He had always joked that nobody with as good of a head of hair as his should ever be forced to wear a hat.
“Yeah, what’s up?” Jake asked.
“Do you think you can give me a hand?” John asked. “Meadows is pushing me to finish the house next door by the end of the day.”
“By yourself?” Jake asked. “Didn’t you just start?”
“I did, but he said if I don’t finish it today, he’s going to fire me,” John answered.
Jake waved his hands dismissively. “Oh, he threatens to fire me at least twice daily. But, yeah, I can help. What do you need?”
“Are you sure it won’t interfere with your day?” John asked.
Jake placed a hand on John’s shoulder. “I always have time for my brother.”
Thankful for his friend’s help, John instructed Jake to cut the wood while he measured. He believed he could meet Meadow’s quota with Jake’s assistance.
John had never used an assembly line method before because each room offered unique challenges. And if there were a way for John to maximize the room’s resources and create a better space, that was what he did. But at least this way, John could ensure the quality of his work.
John and Jake fell into a seamless rhythm. It didn’t take long before the first room was finished, and they had already moved on to the next. But as Jake was firing up the table saw, John felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.
John held up his hand to get Jake’s attention when he saw it was his wife. Jake shut off the saw, and John answered the phone.
“Hey, honey,” John said. “I can’t talk right now?—”
“Blake broke his arm,” Maggie said.
“What?” John asked. “How did that happen?”
“I didn’t get a lot of the details,” Maggie answered. “I think he fell off the swings or the monkey bars on the playground? I’m on my way to the hospital now.”
“So much for your day off,” John said.
Maggie was an ER nurse with Cincinnati General. She had one of the better schedules in the hospital due to her seniority, but she had just finished her seven-day, twelve-hour rotation, and he knew she was looking forward to some rest.
“Can you meet me there?” Maggie asked.
John glanced around the unfinished house and all the work that still remained. Meadows would be angry, but nothing was more important to him than family.
“Of course, I will be there as soon as I can,” John answered.
“I love you,” Maggie said.
“Love you, too,” John replied. John ended the call.
“Everything okay?” Jake asked.
John shook his head. “Blake broke his arm at school.”
“Damn,” Jake answered. “You need a ride?”
“No, I’m good to drive,” John answered.
Before John left, he would need to speak with Meadows, and he braced himself for an earful.
John found Meadows barking at one of the other carpenters two houses down. No one could work fast enough for him.
“Mr. Meadows,” John said, catching his attention, “I need a word.”
“What do you want, Carver?” Meadows asked, exasperated.
“I have to leave,” John said.
“No,” Meadows said. “Get back to work.”
“My son broke his arm at school,” John replied. “He’s being taken to the hospital, and I’m going to meet my wife there.”
Meadows took one step closer, glowering with anger. “I warned you that if that house isn’t done by the end of the day, you’re fired. You want to test me?”
John had always been a patient man. His wife said he had the patience of a mountain. But every once in a while, a mountain could erupt.
“Mr. Meadows, my son is hurt,” John said. “Surely we can come to some sort of understanding.”
“I made my position crystal clear,” Meadows said, refusing to back down.
“I understand,” John said.
John turned around and walked away, but Meadows couldn’t help himself.
“Don’t think you can go over my head on this one, Carver!” Meadows shouted. “This is my site! You hear me? You’ll never work for this company again! No matter what the project is!”
Jake spun around. “Yeah? Well, you can get yourself a new lead plumber, too!” Jake flipped Meadows the bird, then joined John, walking toward the barren field next to the work site where their vehicles were parked.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” John said.
“His boss will be begging us to return in less than a week,” Jake said. “Or we could finally start our own business like we’ve always discussed. Be the ones in charge wearing fancy suits?”
“I like all of that save for the fancy suits,” John said.
Jake laughed, but just before they reached John’s truck, the construction site went silent. The generators shut down, the saws stopped working, drills turned off, and the hum of production was replaced with cries of confusion.
“What the hell?” Jake asked.
A few workers checked the generators, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. But as John watched the scene unfold, he had the sinking suspicion something horrible had happened. He quickly reached for his phone and tried to turn it on, but the screen remained blank.
“Jake, check your phone,” John answered.
Jake fished his phone out of his pocket, and when John saw it was turned off, he knew what had happened.
“It’s not working,” Jake said, confused. “What the hell is going on?”
John frowned, and a cold sensation of dread flooded his bones. And as he watched other workers come out of the houses, pointing toward their blank phones, John feared the worst had finally happened.
It was an EMP.