Author's Notes: Cookie Points to the first person who can guess which new skill I'm learning now

OK, I did a lot of EMP research and got a lot of conflicting opinions. I finally just decided to pick things that 'made it' and things that 'didn't make it' based a little bit on logic, and the rest based upon the way *I* wanted the story to go.

So, this turned out to be a shorter chapter, but at least it will be posted in a more timely manner. Very sad for me to write – consider this a tissue alert.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I still do not own any of the characters that appeared on the CBS show Jericho.

Chapter XI: 'If I Could Turn Back Time . . .'

October 5-6, 2006

Bombs + 17-18 Days

When the sounds of the farm awakened Grant before dawn, he rolled over and pulled his pillow over his head. Although they had made a point rising early during their travels, it didn't include this degree of enthusiasm. Then he felt guilty for lying in bed while his hosts were up seeing to the very things that were providing comfort for him and his companions.

"Come on," he said to Miranda, "I guess this is our cue to get up and help."

"Ugh," Miranda groaned in response. "I suppose you're right. Wouldn't it be fantastic to stay another night?" She asked Grant. They had been invited to stay several days by Lars the previous night.

"Well, yes, but then we won't make it home to Skylar for yet another day," Grant replied, ever practical.

"Oh, you are right, as usual," Miranda said, pulling off the covers and getting up. "I do hope someone in town is looking after her," Miranda mused for the hundredth time as she started packing up their things.

"I'm sure she is doing just fine," Grant reassured her, also for the hundredth time. He would have had a fit if had he known that Skylar was having a sleepover with the town misfit, even as they spoke.

By the time they made it downstairs with their things, the farm family had breakfast preparations underway. It was not yet daylight, but the daughters and daughter-in-law were bustling about making what smelled like bacon and eggs. Gretchen was missing from the group, but Miranda soon found her in the ample pantry with Kate, choosing supplies for their journey.

"I won't hear another word about it," Gretchen was saying with a laugh. "We can make more of everything here on the farm. You need to take enough good food with you to get you to your next farm. If you don't choose, I'll choose for you."

Miranda noticed a sack of potatoes already placed by the door, along a large bag of carrots and some other fall vegetables. Another box with several dozen eggs and fresh loaves of bread sat beside it. Gretchen was pulling two-quart canning jars off the shelves and packing them into a wooden box packed with old towels.

"We grow our own beans and peas," Gretchen explained, "and then pressure can the leftovers once we've made a big pot of soup or baked beans or whatever it is we're making. We used to open a jar to feed the family on a Sunday dinner after church or if part of the family were out of town. Since the bombs, we really don't leave the farm as much, so we cook from scratch every day. You should take all you need. You'll be able to reuse the jars when you get home, or leave them at the next farm you visit. We have plenty."

"We can't thank you enough," Kate said, accepting the loaded box that Gretchen thrust into her arms as Gretchen began to fill a second box with jars of beef stew and canned chicken. This bounty of food would provide hot meals for the group for two more weeks; enough time for them to reach the Schmidt family farm outside of Columbus. There, the Jericho-bound members of the group could restock for the remaining 1200 miles and two months of their journey. Since they would be able to take both carriages with them, they would be able to carry more supplies for less people.

Miranda added her gracious thanks to Gretchen. She suspected that Kate and Gretchen had chatted and gotten to know one another a little better, and Kate's warm personality had been partially responsible for the outpouring of supplies and good will. The ladies from New York had come to like and respect Kate during their travels together. She was fiercely protective of her family, but also ready and willing to help and teach them in any way she could. They had learned a great deal from her that would make mealtime more palatable during the last two months of their journey.

Once the baggage and supplies had been stacked in the mudroom, both groups sat down for breakfast. The men had just returned from the barn where they had milked the cows and gathered eggs. Lars was giving thanks for the meal and asking journey mercies for the travelers when the back door opened and an unknown man in his mid 40's burst into the kitchen.

"I just came from town," he exclaimed to the group, noting the unfamiliar faces as he spoke. "They say the missiles we saw last night caused an EMP. Everything with a circuit board is useless now."

As the newcomer stopped to catch his breath, Lars rose from the table. "Scott Morton, meet our guests from New York," he said, as though it were an everyday occurrence to have 10 house guests and someone bursting through the back door.

"Pleased to meet you," Scott responded once he had regained his composure. Turning to Lars, he asked "Have you noticed any of your electronics not working this morning?"

"Well," Lars responded thoughtfully, "I do not even know if we have even used any electronics this morning." He indicated the oil lamps providing light and the wood stove upon which breakfast had been cooked.

"Try your walkies," Scott suggested helpfully.

Lars went to the kitchen counter where the radio base sat. "Front gate, this is base with a radio check." Lars spoke into the microphone, although the squelch of the machine alone indicated that the radio was, indeed, functioning.

"Copy you loud and clear," came the response from Nels, who had relieved Lars on gate duty at 5am.

"Roger that, carry on," Lars responded back, turning away from the radio to face Scott.

"Some of the walkies in town work, some don't; it seems like it depends on brand," Scott informed the group. "A few people have solar panels, all of them tied to the grid, and they are all fried. I'm on my way home to check on my system now. I'll radio you if it works; send word if it doesn't." And with that, Scott Morton backed out the door as precipitously as he had entered, leaving the group gaping after him.

"Well, that is not how our mornings usually begin," Lars observed with a wry smile, the implications of Scott's news hanging thick in the air. "Let us eat our breakfast while it is hot, and I will try to explain," he encouraged the group as he went on speaking. "Scott is our neighbor to the north. His family and ours are very close. That is why he felt comfortable coming in without knocking," he said with a chuckle. "Our children play together, and the gate between our land and his is never closed. Scott and his wife Rebecca moved here the year after we did. Their oldest daughter was born later that year, and now they have six children. We are fortunate to have them as neighbors."

Done reminiscing, Lars turned his attention to the news Scott had brought them. "So, what are the implications of an EMP," he asked rhetorically. "According to my research, the effect seems to be dose-related. Things closer to the blast will sustain greater damage than things further away. Things shielded by a basement or a Faraday cage of metal will sustain less damage that things out in the open. Home solar systems with relatively short runs of wire might stand a better chance than industrial systems hooked to the grid and having long elaborate runs of wiring. Likewise, some older cars will fare better than newer cars, but none of these seem to be hard-and-fast rules. There seems to be an element of luck of the draw thrown in as well. Once we finish eating breakfast, we will take an inventory of our systems."

"As far as the travelers are concerned, I think we have you set up to go whenever you are ready. If you think it will benefit you to stick around while we check things out, by all means feel free. Personally, I have been awake almost 24 hours now, so I plan to eat breakfast, check out one or two things, and then take a nice long nap before I am back on duty tonight. Please forgive me if I am not at the gate to wave good bye when you leave. I have enjoyed getting to know you and hope to see you again one day, hopefully under better circumstances." With that, Lars took his seat and enjoyed his rapidly cooling breakfast.

Grant conferred quickly with the others and they decided to stay for a few minutes after breakfast to determine the effect of the EMP. They felt this knowledge might stand them in good stead as they continued their journey.

It turned out the solar systems at the Erickson and Morton farms were relatively small and not affected by the EMP. The walkies at the Morton farm had apparently been the wrong brand and no longer functioning, and neither were several vehicles, pieces of farm equipment and household appliances between the two farms. Overall, between the two farms, they felt they had been fortunate and fared well. The two families would be able to mix and match parts to accomplish everything they needed to get done. The New York Contingency wondered how Jericho had fared the EMP as they started on their way west once again.

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By the time Johnston got to Town Hall for the morning, he had a pretty good idea of how Jericho had fared. The solar arrays of the outlying farms seemed to have survived intact. Those in town had been tied to the grid, and overall had not been so lucky. The one notable exception was the part of town that included the library. When Johnston had turned off the power in order for the firefighters to work, he turned off the solar ability as well. It had not been turned back on, and thus had been spared. Johnston was sick that so many resources were rendered useless in a heartbeat, yet grateful that many were still functional. He made a mental note to speak with Oliver Wilson about salvaging what they could from the affected systems. He also wanted to look into hydroelectric power if they found they didn't have enough power otherwise.

Other than solar, it was a mixed bag. Thankfully, the windmill power systems seemed to have survived. As expected, modern cars were no longer working, while older cars were. Some household appliances worked, some didn't. He made another note to speak with Oliver about refurbishing older appliances and vehicles.

In part due to the ban on driving motor vehicles inside town limits (their car didn't work now, anyway), and in part to clear his head, Johnston had walked to work. He had noticed a number of young people on the streets of Jericho. When he had queried Marian Frederickson on his way into his office, she had told him that school had been cancelled due to the EMP. For the most part, the little ones were at home with their parents. It was the adolescents that concerned him. Having them run amuck on the streets could not lead to anything good. He called Marian into his office and asked her to arrange meetings for him with Zack and Alex Summers, and Oliver Wilson.

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Things at Green Ranch were going about the same way they had for the past few weeks. Eleanor was bemoaning the fact the toaster no longer worked, thus interfering with her routine of toast and tea for breakfast. Heather was sympathizing with her when Jake came in from checking on the horses.

"I'll check my gear; I think I have one of those little metal toaster deals you use on a burner when you're camping," he told them absently. Then he remembered April's order for Heather to take it easy following her smoke-inhalation-in-the-library excitement. "What are you doing down here, anyway," he asked her. "I thought we agreed that you would stay upstairs today. Go back up; I'll bring your tea and breakfast. I'm sure Eleanor will watch Chip today."

Heather had the good grace to look sheepish. "Alright, I'm going," she said hoarsely. "I'm sure the twins will be awake soon, anyway."

"I checked in with the McCalls," Jake told Eleanor as Heather shuffled back up the stairs and Chip clamored up into his high chair in anticipation of breakfast. "They're doing just fine, as one might expect. I imagine they will be having an EMP party instead of the usual Friday night Bar-B-Q tomorrow. I don't know what it will take to slow these people down."

"Well, they are a blessing to us all," Eleanor replied, handing Jake a breakfast tray to take up to Heather. "I don't know what we'd do without them. Owen has already brought over the fresh milk for the day, and I expect to see Tess or Julie with eggs any time. I'll just go and see what's keeping E.J. and then start making breakfast for the troops."

Jake was about half way up the stairs when he heard Eleanor cry out in alarm: "Oh, Jake! Come quickly!"

Jake set the tray on the landing and hurried back down the stairs. He found Eleanor in E.J.'s room with tears in her eyes as she looked at E.J.'s lifeless body lying quietly in his bed.

"You know, he has been more and more confused lately," she said tearfully. "He was very upset with all of the excitement last night, so I sat with him for an hour or so until he fell asleep. He spoke about how much he missed Catherine, and how glad she hadn't had to see what the world had come to. I told him repeatedly how grateful we all were for all of his efforts to prepare the town and he seemed to understand. He finally went to sleep peacefully. Oh, Jake, I will miss him so. I have really grown to love him."

Jake had tears in his own eyes. "He was an extraordinary man, and we all were fortunate to have had him in our lives," he said in a cracking voice.

Heather, hearing Eleanor's exclamation, had come back down the stairs. She stood with Jake and Eleanor with tears streaming down her cheeks. The calm before the storm was broken as other family members began to come down for breakfast and needed to be told the news.

Jake informed the McCalls of E.J.'s passing on his way to the barn to saddle Rocket. He had a lump in his throat the size of a golf ball. He loved the rest of his family, but he and his Grandpa had always had a special bond that no one else quite understood. Through the adoption fiasco in high school, the tragedy of Chris Prowse's death and all of Jake's other adventures, his Grandpa had always stood by him. Intellectually, he knew that E.J. had died just the way he would have wanted to – quietly, in his sleep. Spiritually, Jake had enough of a belief system to know that E.J. was now reunited in Heaven with his beloved Catherine. Still, the void he felt in his life was enormous.

As he rode Rocket toward town, Jake was now thankful for E.J.'s growing forgetfulness over the past year or two. It had helped put a small distance between them, when Jake had not been able to count on E.J. for the heart-to-heart discussions they had always had. As hard as this was, it would have been just that much harder without that transitional period, Jake reflected.

He took a few deep breaths as he came to grips with his initial grief. His mind had been wandering, and he was surprised to see that he was already at the outskirts of town. He passed through the ranger checkpoint and continued on to Town Hall. He found Johnston sitting at his desk.

"Jake, what are you doing here?" Johnston asked in surprise. "Is everything O.K.?"

"No," Jake said, "It's Grandpa. We found him this morning. He must have died in his sleep. Eleanor said he was agitated last night and she sat with him until he fell asleep. He died peacefully in his bed, but I wish I could have been with him." Jakes voice cracked slightly as he delivered the news, even though he had determined on the ride to town that he would be strong.

"Oh, Jake. I'm so sorry. I know how close you were, but he is at peace now. We will all miss him, but he hated the way his memory was failing him." Johnston felt helpless to comfort Jake as Jake put chin up and pulled himself together. "I'll let your Mother and Eric know," Johnston continued. "Do the McCalls know yet?"

"Yes," Jake responded, now completely businesslike. "They offered to plan a wake for tonight? They figured we would have a graveside service for the family Saturday morning." Green Ranch had a small cemetery as was the custom of many of the local ranches.

"That sounds good. We'll be there as soon as we can." Johnston rose and came around his desk, reaching out to shake Jake's hand and then enveloping him in a hug. For all of their differences over the years, both were glad to have come to terms with one another, especially at a time like this.

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Once Jake had returned to the ranch, Johnston had Marian reschedule his appointments with Oliver Wilson and the Summers boys. He told her he would be available by radio, and otherwise would be taking the day off. As he walked past Gracie Leigh's Market, he noticed a group of high school-aged boys playing baseball with now-defunct cell phones; a gaggle of girls looking on. There was a minor scuffle as one of the cell phones sailed through the front window of the store, but it was quickly diffused. He renewed his resolve to keep the young people occupied. When he reached the church, he went in and spoke with Frank Young, asking him to notify the townspeople he saw and making arrangements for services on Saturday. Johnston then continued his walk home.

Gail was in the kitchen when Johnston came in the back door.

"What has happened now," she asked, trying to think back to a time when Johnston had come home in the middle of the morning.

"It's Dad," Johnston responded. "He died in his sleep. Jake and Eleanor found him this morning. Jake isn't taking is very well."

"No, I don't imaging he will," Gail observed. "They were very close. Oh, Johnston, I'm so sorry." Gail had long since lost both of her parents, and vividly remembered the feeling of being adrift without an oar. She hugged him tightly as the realization washed over both of them.

Finally Johnston spoke. "The McCalls have volunteered to have a wake tonight if we would like to have a service for the family tomorrow morning."

"That will be nice," Gail agreed, continuing to hug him.

Eric and April found them thusly a short while later when they returned from evaluating their burned home. They brought with them a few boxes of clothing that had been slated for donation and had been sitting in the garage. The side of the house where the bedrooms of the children were had received the least damage, so they were able to set aside some clothing and toys to be brought over on the following trip.

"Do you suppose we should go out to the ranch now," Gail asked once Eric and April had been told. "It doesn't look like anyone is working today, and I would feel better if we were able to help."

"Yes, that's a good idea," Johnston agreed. "I will radio over to Scout Ranch and ask Will to take us out in the wagon. Perhaps Jake can bring us home later."

"Did you use the HAM radio in town to notify Aunt Susan and Uncle Martin," Eric asked Johnston.

"No, I meant to, then I got distracted," Johnston replied, still appearing somewhat distracted.

"I'll walk in to Town Hall and take care of that; you can pick me up there. I'll notify Glen and Carolyn Davis in Galloway, also. I know none of them will be able to come for the services, but at least they will know."

"Thank you, Son," Johnston said, still lost in thought. "At least three of his five children will be here for the service." They all took a moment to consider Johnston's sister Sharon, her husband Bob and their daughter Olivia who lived in New York. They had had no word from them and presumed the worst. Of course they still lacked a full list of the cities that had been affected.

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By the time the Green family from town arrived at the Ranch, Annie McCall was overseeing the preparation of E.J.'s body with the help of Eleanor and Laura. Gail stepped in to help while April took her children and sought out Heather, who was sitting in the great room with a cup of tea and keeping an eye on Chip and the twins. Erin McCall and her three little ones, who had ridden out from town with Will and the Greens, checked in with them and offered her condolences on her way over to the Bunk House to help Joanna with preparations for the wake.

Johnston and Eric went through the house and out the back door toward the family cemetery. They found the men of Green Ranch taking turns digging the grave and passing around a flask of the single malt whiskey E.J. had enjoyed so much. They reminisced as they worked.

"You know that he and Scout are sitting up in Heaven right now, looking down and watching us," Emmett was saying.

"The two of them were a pair," Wes agreed. "I might have been able to pull something over on one of them, but the other one always caught me."

"He loved to sit on that bench over there and look out over the pond," Jake said. "I think he liked being close to the ones that had gone before him." E.J.'s parents and grandparents were buried in the plot as well as Catherine and the two siblings who had died in childhood during the 1918 Influenza Epidemic. The McCalls had a plot of their own nearby where Scout was buried.

"He had mellowed considerable by the time you came along," Johnston said, indicating Jake, Eric and the McCall sons. "He was quite a firebrand when we were kids, wasn't he?" Johnston asked Emmett.

"Indeed, he was," Emmett said with a laugh. "You younger kids and grandkids wouldn't remember what he was like when he was Mayor. When he retired, it was as though the weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders and he could enjoy the horses and the farm and the children. He was a good Mayor, but he was never so glad as when he handed over the reins to Johnston."

Will McCall had arrived from Scout Ranch when he brought Johnston, and he took the final turn to dig and comment. "He was very patient when he taught me the business side of ranching. Dad was good with the barnyard side and E.J. was good with the business side. They made quite a team. It has helped me so much in opening Scout Ranch."

With that, the gathered group of men, sons and grandsons of E.J. and Scout, had their own benediction to the memory of two great men and the passing of an era. They would be present for the formal service the next day, but this was their own rite of passage.

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By the time the men returned to the Bunk House, the wake had begun, and additional guests were beginning to arrive. Stanley and Bonnie Richmond. Madelyn and Matthew Young with nine year old Megan and five year old Kirby. Hope and Gilbert Bennett with three year old Hunter and one year old Piper. The rest of the farm community traveling in their own carriages and folks from town coming and going as quickly as Will and Kyle McCall could transport them in the wagon and carriage available for hire at Scout Ranch. The food was plentiful and delicious; the McCall ladies had outdone themselves despite the bombs and the EMP. The band of musicians had gathered and different group members were taking turns in the usual corner playing old hymns and traditional Irish ballads. The various conversations taking place had one theme in common – E.J. Green and his antics over the years. Everyone shared conversations or experiences they remembered and the memory of E.J. became bigger than life, as is common at an Irish wake. Even though all of the traditions were no longer observed, it was a grand farewell that the living would remember for years to come.

Saturday morning dawned clear and crisp. The graveside service was presided over by Reverend Frank Young in the presence of the Green Ranch family. The wake had lasted well into the night, with most of the family members and good friends staying all night between the two houses. A luncheon of leftovers was served at the Bunk House after the service, giving family members an opportunity to discuss the state of affairs in Jericho.

"I don't know when they plan to resume classes at the school," Johnston was saying to a group which included Jake and Eric, "but I think we need to come up with something worthwhile to occupy the younger generation. The last thing we need is for them to be getting into mischief and making more work for the rest of us." He gave Jake a look that indicated Jake should know about the type of mischief to which he was referring. Jake returned the look sheepishly. "I plan to speak with the Summers boys," Johnston continued his train of thinking. "They were active in the Civil Air Patrol in Texas. I think they could probably start something like that here. Teach these young people a little military discipline."

"I actually think that's a great idea, Dad," Jake responded with enthusiasm. "I would have loved something like that when I was growing up. I'd be happy to help, if I have time on top of everything else," he indicated the ranch which he had just inherited and over which he had been taking more and more responsibility of late.

"They can't be exactly Civil Air Patrol Cadets since we have no affiliation with the Air Force," Johnson said thoughtfully. "I was thinking maybe we could call them Jericho Ranger Cadets? Marian Frederickson said we had gotten a shipment of tan polo shirts by mistake when we ordered brown ones for the Rangers recently and they hadn't gotten returned before the bombs dropped. Maybe the Cadets could use those? Mostly I want them to learn to follow and eventually to lead. To conduct themselves in a neat and complete manner. To use a compass and build a fire. The things everyone should know but no one teaches kids anymore. Along with integrity and self discipline and respect for one's elders."

"Sounds like a good idea, Dad," Eric said, slowly absorbing the idea. "Would girls be able to participate, or mostly boys?"

"If the girls are interested, they would be welcome from my point of view," Johnston replied. "I know of quite a few women who I'd far rather have in my foxhole than Grey Anderson." The group laughed as Johnston lowered his voice and rolled his eyed at the conclusion of his sentence. "I have plans to meet with the Summers boys on Monday. I'll see if I can't get things started up."

Eventually, those that did not reside at Green Ranch went home, and those that did were left to carry on. There was a considerable hollow place in the hearts of the Ranch House residents whenever they passed the door to E.J.'s room, but they took comfort in the fact that he had been suitably memorialized by his loved ones after he had lived a long and productive life. Eventually, Emmett and Eleanor would probably move downstairs to the room E.J. had been using so Dennis Duncan and his children could spread out into two rooms, but no one was ready for that just yet.