E.e. Borton

Without E.e. Borton Revised edition

The apocalypse came as a whisper.
Mother Nature had been sending signs for three years, but most didn't pay attention until she pulled the plug on everything. Nobody will forget where they were and what they were doing at 8:13 on that morning. They're all still waiting for 8:14. Well, at least the ones that have made it so far.
He was stuck in Atlanta traffic, making his way to work, when the world fell silent. His car, his radio, his phone, his watch, anything that needed a spark, a battery, or an outlet died. The silence didn't last long and neither did she. He didn't know if the yellow sundress was the first to die, but he does know that she wasn't the last. Not even close.
As aircraft fell out of the sky, panicked drivers lost control in the fast lane, and pace makers stopped keeping their rhythms, he got out of his car and popped the trunk. Most didn't pay attention, but he did. And he knew what was coming.

Three years earlier during the first city-wide blackout in Atlanta, he lost his Samantha to cowards who were never caught. Those looking to take advantage didn't hesitate, wreaking havoc at every opportunity. It took less than an hour after the event for society to start its disintegration.
He made a promise to himself never to feel that helpless again. He wasn't a soldier or a cop, but he was one of the few that did have a plan. Get out of the city, get away from people, and don't hesitate.
May God have mercy on their souls, because he won't.