Nuclear Winter Series | Book 1 | Nuclear Winter First Strike Read online

  “Erin, wait,” he announced with a tone of caution.

  She swung around. “Um, hi, Hank. Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, just don’t move.”

  Erin stopped in her tracks and tilted her head with a puzzled look on her face. He caught up to her with his hands spread apart, waving them up and down as if he wanted her to remain calm.

  “Slowly. Back away from where you’re standing,” he instructed as he held his hand out to her. She took it and carefully picked up her feet, which had sunk somewhat in the wet sand. Her first instinct was to look around her feet, presuming there was something dangerous nearby. She couldn’t see it, but she followed Hank’s suggestion nonetheless.

  Still holding her hand, he led her up the slope a few feet away from the water’s edge. “This is your lucky day,” he said with a smile. He hesitated to let go of her hand. It was soft and warm. It felt right. But he did and walked just to where the wave line was created in the wet sand.

  “Is it a jellyfish?” she asked.

  “No, better. Let me introduce you to a stargazer.”

  “Where?” Erin asked as she gingerly inched forward and bent over to see what he was referring to.

  Hank knelt down and drew a semicircle in the sand when the water receded. Erin looked closer until the water lapped over the space again. He redrew the line in the sand.

  “Do you see it?” he asked as he waved for her to come closer.

  She placed her hand on his shoulder and bent over at the waist. “Well, I’ll be damned. It is a fish.”

  “A stargazer. It’s very unusual, but we happen to get them all the time on this desolate stretch of beach. Look closer. You can see that its eyes, gill slits, nostrils and most of its mouth are on top of its body.”

  Erin studied the twenty-inch-long fish that was half-submerged. It’s dark blackish-brown body blended in perfectly with the wet sand.

  “How did you see it from back there?”

  “After living here for all my life, you notice slight variations in the sand. Most people might think it’s a rock or something under the surface. Until, of course, they step on it. These guys are stout, and they have a special organ just behind their eyes that produces an electric shock for anyone who unknowingly grabs it.”

  “Or steps on it,” added Erin.

  Hank nodded, and the two of them stood upright to study the unusual creature. “May I join you? I usually walk along the beach in the mornings, you know, just to get ready to do battle with hostile and ornery hotel guests.”

  Erin let out a hearty laugh. “You mean like my sisters?”

  Hank had no intention of his joking remark to be associated with her three older sisters. “No, not at all. And I was just kidding. Only rarely do we have a guest we simply cannot please. It happens. Not everybody gives out five-star reviews.”

  “Don’t I know it. I’m in politics, remember. You piss off half your constituents. Initially, you please the other half until at some point you piss most of them off as well. By the time your career in public service is over, most everybody is mad at you, making you wonder why you bothered.”

  “Why did you? Bother, I mean.”

  They continued to study the interesting stargazer.

  “It wasn’t my idea,” she replied casually. “My ex was politically connected, but he made too much money as a personal injury lawyer to seek public office. He made a living out of suing the wrong people, corporate giants, for example. Therefore, he had a résumé that was easy to shoot at. Instead, at a dinner party one night, he offered me up as a better candidate.”

  “Were you surprised?”

  Erin laughed. “Well, we’d discussed it, but nothing serious. Because of my degree in public administration, I had an aptitude for the operations of government. My minor in transportation and work with Florida’s highway commission as a lobbyist made me an ideal candidate for a transportation position.”

  “Not agriculture?” Hank asked a logical question considering her current position.

  “Well, that came later. The governor appointed me to head the Florida Department of Transportation. When the commissioner of agriculture became embroiled in a sex scandal, the governor looked to a familiar face with no skeletons in the closet to fill the post. As a result, with only a year of public service under my belt, I became one of four members of the Florida cabinet behind the lieutenant governor, attorney general, and the state’s chief financial officer.”

  “Wow. You moved fast.”

  Erin looked down shyly and smiled. “Well, the temporary appointment was easy. Running in the special election is what got me put on the so-called political radar as a proverbial up-and-comer.”

  Hank shrugged. “I’m sorry, but I don’t follow politics, really. I vote for president, and that’s about it.”

  “That’s okay. Ordinarily, I would’ve been one of those down-ballot candidates that folks fill in the circle next to because it was on a certain side of the page. As it happened, my first campaign was in an off-year election cycle where the race was the most prominent in the state. Hell, we had debates. Mudslinging. Outside money pouring in. All the hallmarks of a gubernatorial race except it was for Ag commissioner.”

  “And you won.”

  “Decidedly so in an evenly divided state.”

  “I bet your husband was proud of you.”

  Erin laughed and ran her fingers through her hair. She glanced up at the cloudless sky and smiled. “One would think, but alas, no. It led to our divorce.”

  “Why?” asked Hank, hesitating to pry but doing so anyway.

  “He became jealous of my success and notoriety. He tried to take credit for my win until one day, during a press conference, a reporter set him straight. He took his anger out on me, and our marriage was over.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Hank.

  Erin shrugged and smiled nervously. “You know, it probably should’ve happened long before. He never supported me or encouraged me to pursue my goals and dreams. He wanted me on his arm at social gatherings or as a smiling face for his television commercials.”

  Erin was talkative, and Hank enjoyed listening to her, so he decided to take the conversation further. “How long were you in Tallahassee? You must’ve impressed some important people to reach the top of the totem pole.”

  “Well, I actually did a lot of things for Florida farmers and orange growers in particular. But more importantly, I built coalitions with both parties to get things done. I won my second election by a landslide. When the president began his campaign a couple of years ago, I pledged my support even though we were in opposite parties.”

  “I bet that was awkward,” said Hank with a smile. “Didn’t you piss off your side of the aisle?”

  “Like I said, eventually you make everyone mad.”

  “Obviously, that bold step was appreciated by the president.”

  “Okay. I’m gonna toot my own horn for a moment. The fact is, I practically delivered Florida for him on election day. My statewide campaign team worked tirelessly to get out the vote for the president. Without Florida, he couldn’t have been elected. Anyway, our efforts didn’t go unnoticed, so he rewarded me with secretary of agriculture. I’m the only one in the cabinet who isn’t in the president’s party.”

  Hank was impressed. She was a politician, yet she wasn’t. She was a straight talker, a rarity in Washington, Tallahassee, or the Florida Keys, for that matter. He still sensed she was troubled.

  “I didn’t see you yesterday, so I thought you’d returned to Washington.”

  “No. Sadly, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, they don’t need me up there. If I were leading transportation, then certainly. That was the job I really wanted, but the president had to offer it to someone more acceptable to unions.”

  “You’re still a cabinet member,” said Hank. “Wouldn’t you be involved in the national security meetings?”

  She shook her head side to side. “I have the requisite security cle
arance but would have little to offer from the agriculture side, or at least that’s what they probably think.”

  Hank glanced at her face to make eye contact. “I take it you disagree.”

  There was a fallen palm tree ahead, and Erin pointed toward it, indicating what she had to say was worthy of sitting down to explain. Hank followed her lead and took her hand to help her up the slope through the soft sand. Once they’d settled in to watch a fishing boat meander out toward a reef, Erin dropped a bomb of her own.

  “If we were to be attacked with nuclear warheads, the transportation secretary would have to deal with the threat of an EMP. However, the aftermath of what happened between two nuclear powers, even on the other side of the world, will bring a plague on our planet that could be much worse—nuclear winter.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sunday, October 20

  Driftwood Key

  Hank was not completely unaware of the terms—EMP and nuclear winter. He’d heard them mentioned in movies, news documentaries, and books he’d read in the past. However, he’d never bothered to study or research what they meant. Erin was about to enlighten him and open his eyes to the very real threats their nation faced from nuclear war.

  “There are many aspects to the use of nuclear weapons most of the public is unaware of. They all can visualize the massive mushroom cloud full of debris and fire because they’ve seen the videos from testing decades ago or how it is digitally portrayed in movies.

  “That part is certainly accurate. The tremendous amount of energy that is released at the impact site annihilates virtually everything within the blast radius, depending on the size of the warhead.

  “World powers, namely the U.S.S.R. and the U.S., learned through a series of nuclear tests in the late fifties there was an unexpected side effect to atomic bomb detonations. In 1958, testing at the Pacific Proving Grounds located in the Marshall Islands, known as the Starfish Prime project, revealed the energy generated also had the ability to destroy the tiny vulnerable wiring of electronic devices. This side effect, as they initially called it, is known as an EMP, or electromagnetic pulse.

  “The government began to experiment with warhead detonations at different altitudes. The higher above ground the nuclear warhead was detonated, the broader the reach of the energy waves and the highly charged particles released into the atmosphere. Ground detonation, while releasing the same types of particles, had a significantly smaller EMP effect because its particles were not launched into the atmosphere but were thwarted by geographic features like mountains.”

  Hank was aware of EMPs and what they were capable of, but he did not know the altitude of the detonation made a difference on the area it impacted. He looked for clarity. “Let’s use an example. The Russians nuke St. Louis. I don’t know why they would, but it’s the center of the country. Now, if the nuke hits the city, how far out will the electronics be impacted?”

  “Again, keep in mind that the size of the weapon and the altitude are very important variables. Low-yield nukes coupled with a ground-level detonation will have less of an EMP effect. High-yield, high-altitude detonations could potentially place the entirety of the continental U.S. in the dark.

  “Now, a caveat. Our power grid is tied together from coast to coast, except for Texas, which I’ll explain in a moment. The Eastern and Western Interconnection grids rely upon one another to maintain the continuous flow of power to the highest-demand users. For example, electricity generated by hydroelectric dams in Tennessee might not need to send as much energy to the rural parts of the state, but they transfer it to major cities like Atlanta and Memphis in the region.

  “If the nuclear blast produces a large enough EMP to impact an entire region, like the West Coast, then the other power grids will work overtime to supplement the needs of areas outside the impact area. This may result in a cascading failure of the entire Eastern and Western Interconnection power grids.”

  “But not Texas?” Hank asked.

  “Right. They have their own grid separate and distinct from the rest of the country, operated by ERCOT, their power company.”

  Hank stood to stretch his legs but also to absorb what Erin had relayed to him. “This is a real problem for the rest of us who aren’t directly in the line of fire of a nuke that might hit LA or …” His voice trailed off as he avoided identifying the most obvious East Coast target—Washington.

  “Correct. Don’t get me wrong. A targeted EMP attack designed to destroy our grid would be devastating and result in the deaths of nearly ninety percent of Americans, according to some reports. However, with a herculean effort and international cooperation, power grids can be rebuilt. That’s not the case with problem number two.”

  Hank sat down again. He’d begun contemplating selling the inn and moving to Texas. “So the power grid crashes. Electronics won’t work. Does that mean cars, too?”

  “Yes, depending on the nature of the energy release. Trust me, Hank, our scientists have run as many simulations as there are warhead yields, targets, and altitude scenarios. We won’t know until it happens.”

  “God forbid.”

  “I agree,” she said before moving on to the concept of nuclear winter. “During my years in Tallahassee and even in the first hundred days as secretary of agriculture, the concept of nuclear winter has often come up in our policy meetings.”

  Hank interrupted as he sought clarification as to whether this would impact their tiny part of the world. “Is the potential for nuclear winter serious for those of us who live away from obvious nuclear targets?”

  Erin sighed and swallowed hard. “Electromagnetic pulses may be the last thing we need to worry about in the event of a nuclear attack. Not just on our soil, but anywhere in the world.”

  “Whadya mean?”

  “Nuclear war would spawn a climate catastrophe, including a global nuclear El Niño.”

  Hank stood and began pacing again. He looked around to see if any other guests were approaching. He’d hoped for the opportunity to be alone with Erin. He enjoyed her company, and he’d visualized them having a conversation filled with laughs and even, perhaps, flirting. Instead, he found his palms getting sweaty from anxiety.

  “Well, that doesn’t sound like a lot of fun,” he said, hoping to find a way to inject humor into a subject that wasn’t funny.

  “Hank, I’m sorry,” she apologized, hanging her head. Then she made eye contact with him. “My sister told me that you’d asked where I was yesterday. I was coming to grips with all of this stuff myself. The fact is the entire world suffers in a nuclear war, even if it’s regional in nature in places far away from America.

  “Nuclear explosions bring radioactive fallout as well as an unrelenting winter as it kicks off the most intense, longest El Niño the planet has experienced since the last eruption of the Yellowstone supervolcano.

  “Last month, I attended an ocean sciences meeting in San Diego suggesting global cooling from a nuclear conflict would disrupt normal upper-level wind circulation, leading to severe changes in the atmosphere above the Pacific Ocean.

  “Their studies were conclusive. A limited, regional nuclear war in the Middle East like the other day, or in South Asia between Pakistan and India, would provoke a cascade of changes to the Pacific Ocean, the world’s largest ocean basin. Trade winds will reverse direction. The height of the sea surface on either side of the Pacific will adjust, bringing more water to South America’s shores than Australia’s, for example. With this profound change in the normal sea levels near the equator, the volume of nutrient-rich waters made available to marine life will become depleted. In essence, there’s the potential for a total reversal of ocean circulation.”

  “Geez,” said Hank as he suddenly turned to the calm waters of the Gulf.

  “The thing is,” she began before pausing. “These nuclear detonations represent a pretty big hammer slapping the planet’s climate. Depending on the number of nuclear weapons exchanged, the unusual nuclear El Niño could last up to
ten years.”

  “During which time, what happens?” asked Hank.

  “A massive die-off of the marine food population, especially in the Pacific. The disruption in the weather patterns coupled with substantially less light due to the fallout circumnavigating the planet results in less food resources for fish.”

  “What about our coast?”

  “Well, there haven’t been many peer-reviewed studies of the impact to the Atlantic or the Gulf of Mexico. The Pacific is an ecosystem in and of itself. However, the limited light resulting from nuclear fallout, nuclear winter, if you will, would severely hamper food production around the globe.

  “Without natural grown foods for wildlife, animals can’t eat. Without adequate sunlight and rainfall, crops can’t grow. Without food from animal and plant sources, humans can’t eat. If nothing eats, famine is the natural result.”

  “Are we talking about the end of civilization? I mean, surely the people who press the buttons know this is a really bad idea, right?”

  Erin stood to join Hank and dusted off the back of her coverup. She took him by the arm, a touching gesture that prompted Hank to smile for the first time since this whole nuclear-aftermath conversation started.

  “Hank, imagine a room where the walls and floors are soaked with gasoline. Inside, you have two bitter enemies facing each other. One has a thousand matches, and the other has only nine hundred. Both enemies want to show their firepower is superior to the other’s.

  “That’s where we are today. We have an enormous stockpile of nukes, as does China to our west and Russia to our east. There is this unsteady understanding that none of us win in an all-out nuclear war.

  “Now, consider this. Iran and Israel were on equal par with one another thanks to a recent surge in Iran’s stockpiles. They thought it was a fair fight, but it wasn’t because Israel had planned for this eventuality many years ago. Its defensive capabilities were far superior.”

  The results were obvious.

  Erin stopped and began to draw in the sand with her toes. Hank stood back to give her plenty of room. She drew a big circle and reached out to take his hand.