Part 1 (1/2)

CyberStorm.

by Matthew Mather.

Foreword by the author:.

I would like to thank the many people who lent me their time and insight into helping make this a realistic a scenario of a full-scale cyber event: ---.

Richard Marshall, frmr Global Director of Cybersecurity, US DHS and Information a.s.surance to NSA.

Curtis Levinson, United States Cyber Defense Liaison to NATO.

Major Alex Aquino, Head of Cyber Operations, USAF WADS.

Erik Montcalm.

Director of Security Technologies, SecureOps.

And I have added a Special Thanks section at the end of the novel for all my beta readers, listing everyone individually.

Prologue.

IN THE DIM light I could see five people huddled together in the bare metal box, sitting on soiled sheets and clothing. One of them threw me a blanket, and I took it, mumbling my thanks while I covered myself, s.h.i.+vering.

Can I trust them? I didn't have much choice. Freezing cold and wet, I'd die out there on my own. This small box was as close to salvation as I had anymore. How can I fight back when I can barely survive? I had to get back into the mountains.

”How long have they been here?” I asked again, my teeth chattering.

Silence.

I was about to give up when one of the occupants sitting in the corner away from me, a kid with blond hair and a baseball cap, replied, ”A few weeks.”

”What happened?”

”Cyberstorm, that's what happened,” said a kid with a mohawk sitting next to him. He had about a dozen piercings, and that was just what I could see. ”Where have you been?”

”New York.”

A pause. ”That was pretty intense up there, huh?”

I nodded-all the horror summed up in one tiny gesture.

”Where's our military?” I asked. ”How could they let us get invaded?”

”I'm glad they're here,” replied Mohawk.

”You're glad?” I yelled. ”What the h.e.l.l is wrong with you?”

Blondie sat upright.

”Hey, man, calm the h.e.l.l down. We don't want any trouble, okay?”

Shaking my head, I pulled the blanket up around me.

These kids are the future? No wonder all this had happened. Just weeks ago, America had seemed indestructible, but now...

Somehow, we had failed.

All that remained important was to find my family, to keep them safe.

Sighing, I closed my eyes and turned away from the others, pressing my face against the cold metal, listening to the rumble that pulled me deeper into the night.

November 25.

Chelsea, New York City.

”WE LIVE IN amazing times!”

I carefully studied the piece of charred flesh that I held up in front of me.

”Amazingly dangerous times,” laughed Chuck, my next-door neighbor and best friend, taking a swig from his beer. ”Nice work. That's probably still frozen on the inside.”

Shaking my head, I put the burnt sausage down at the edge of the grill.

It was an unusually warm week for Thanksgiving, so I'd decided to throw a last-minute barbecue party on the rooftop terrace of our converted warehouse complex. Most of our neighbors were still here for the holiday, so my two-year-old son, Luke, and I had spent the morning going door-to-door, inviting them all up for our grill-out.

”Don't insult my cooking, and don't get started on all that.”

It was a spectacular end of the day, with the setting sun s.h.i.+ning warmly. From our seven-story perch, beautiful late-autumn views of red and gold trees stretched up and down the Hudson, backed by street noise and city skyline. New York still held a vibrancy that excited me, even after two years of living there. I looked around at the crowd of our neighbors. We'd gathered a group of thirty people for our little party, and I was secretly proud so many had come.

”So you don't think it's possible a solar flare could wreck the world?” said Chuck, raising his eyebrows.

His Southern tw.a.n.g made even disasters sound like song lyrics, and kicking back on a sun lounger in ripped jeans and a Ramones T-s.h.i.+rt, he looked like a rock star. His hazel eyes twinkled playfully from beneath a mop of unkempt blond hair, and two-day-old stubble completed the look.

”That's exactly what I don't want you to get started on.”

”I'm just saying-”

”What you're saying always points to disaster.” I rolled my eyes. ”We've just lived through one of the most amazing transitions in human history.”

Poking the sausages on the grill, I generated a new round of searing flames that leapt up.