The rain of dead birds had added disorder where there was already more than enough.
The inhabitants were very afraid, as they could not explain this phenomenon. A pigeon would not die without reason. Because they didn't seem to have hit something, it could only be something else.
It was only when she returned to the Nanterre barracks that Karima heard a frightening possibility: what if it was something in the air, the same air they were breathing? It didn't take them long to speculate that the problem came from the nuclear power plants. If that was the case, it was a disaster! France had made nuclear energy the basis of its energy supply, allowing its citizens access to electricity at a very reasonable price.
Even if there were none in the immediate vicinity of the capital, the winds could easily bring radioactive particles to them. Moreover, France was not an isolated island, but was surrounded by other countries also possessing this advanced technology. The wind currently blowing over the capital from the north, it was likely that the origin of the problem that killed all these birds lay in the north of the country or even on the other side of the English Channel if Britain was also affected by this cursed blackout.
Karima had been trained in chemical and nuclear risks, naturally, and knew what the solutions were.
It was necessary to alert and confine civilian populations, seal off rooms, distribute iodine tablets, and evacuate populations. Unfortunately, there were too many obstacles to implement this protocol. The city was in chaos, personnel was lacking, iodine was not easily available, and how to evacuate entire cities without functional means of transportation?
As if that weren't enough, they also needed to know where to evacuate them to! If all the nuclear power plants in Europe had exploded, which was unthinkable just a few days earlier, they would have to evacuate all European populations off the continent! It was madness!
My God, what can we do?! We can't all flee out of Europe! And to where? To the depths of Africa? To the Middle East? Further away?
Karima's superiors decided not to evacuate or warn the population, but to continue maintaining order as much as possible, zone by zone.
Karima had suffered greatly since she was informed of this decision, however she agreed that they could not afford to sow panic in the city. They were all on thin ice and were convinced that the slightest mistake on their part would undo all their efforts. They had managed to recruit a few dozen volunteers, some more than others.
Adjudant-chef Ali had managed to convince three, which was average compared to his colleagues.
On this early evening, the three volunteers accompanying Karima patrolled the streets of Nanterre. The young woman didn't know what to think when she saw them parading beside her, armed with sticks, actually broom handles or rakes and other gardening tools. Romain, Cédric, and Guillaume were aged twenty, twenty-six, and twenty-seven respectively. All had agreed to serve France out of patriotism and love of order and peace. They had been shocked to see how low their compatriots had fallen in such a short time.
The proposal of the young gendarme had immediately interested them despite the risks and the lack of payment, because they did not want to remain inactive while their country was collapsing.
Equipped with two torches as if they had returned to the Middle Ages, the small team walked at a slow pace in the middle of the road, between the two lanes cluttered with cars.
Contrary to what one could see in movies and video games, there was not much more visibility in the middle of the night. The immediate surroundings took on a yellowish color, but soon the darkness took over so that one could not see more than a few meters. Fortunately, there were the northern lights that illuminated the city a little.
They are still visible, but are they not less clear? Will they disappear?
The street was peaceful and Karima dared to hope that it was partly thanks to their patrols. They crossed a few cats, but even they did not stay long.
It was around a small street like so many in this neighborhood mixing houses and local shops that the patrol came across a small group of individuals who could not have good intentions. There were about ten of them having fun breaking windows and cars with stones and sticks.
"Hey! There are people," warned one of the men who couldn't be distinguished at this distance. "Hey hey! A cop! It's been a while since we've seen one in the area!" chuckled another, displaying a huge sinister smile.
"Let's go!"
They all seemed confident thanks to their numerical advantage, however they had not taken into account the change in mentality within the law enforcement since the blackout. It was no longer a question of retreating, giving ground to delinquency, letting oneself be done. They had to be firm as never before, otherwise order would never return to the streets of Nanterre.
A message of firmness had to be sent.
Karima pulled out her baton and charged with her volunteers the large group of delinquents who were also advancing quickly towards them. The young gendarme targeted a man taller and stronger than her, dressed in a hooded jacket and a thick dark jacket. Her baton blow, although powerful, inflicted no pain on him which made him laugh.
He was very surprised when the young woman sent him a big punch in the nose which made him step back several steps. She had noticed a second man, thinner and younger, charging her from the side and narrowly avoided the very clumsy attack.
She made a wide gesture with her armed arm and struck the young man on the shoulder which cracked at the moment of impact.
Immediately, the attacker fell to the ground swearing, tears in his eyes.
Close by, Cédric used his stick like a sword to strike a kid who couldn't have been fifteen, but who was already his size. A blow to his arm made him step back and lose his weapon, a paving stone he intended to use to smash his skull.
Although the boy was on the ground, he did not hesitate for a second to attack again, this time at the leg so that he could no longer run. However, he did not have time to deliver a third blow, as he received in turn a violent blow from a crowbar in the back by one of the delinquents who must have been sixteen or seventeen.
"Argh! "
"Cédric! I'm coming!"
Guillaume rushed forward on the crowbar man as if it were a rugby match and gave him a big punch right in the middle of his face. The dull sound of the impact resonated throughout the street in an almost unreal way, but he did not have time to cry victory or even continue before he was in turn interrupted by another thug who had pulled out a knife.
The volunteers unfortunately were not allowed to carry knives, at least for the moment, which is why the young man had no choice but to step back in fear of being injured or killed. Luckily, the blade only grazed his coat. Foam flew in the air like small clouds before falling on the black asphalt like ink.
The young militiaman picked up his stick and used it to keep his opponent or rather his opponents at a distance since there were three of them.
"Come on! I'm waiting for you, you bastard!"
"Gonna kill you, you son of a bitch! Rhaa!"
Insults flew with a power rivaling the blows. The thug, who must have been in high school before the blackout, attempted an attack, but it failed miserably.
Guillaume used this opening to counterattack and hit this young man just behind the skull. The blow was violent enough to make him fall and lose consciousness. The next one missed the perfect opportunity and in turn received a big blow from a stick in the knee that made him cry out in pain.
Cédric, who had gotten up, attacked the third man, a man short and with a bit of a belly. He threw a punch that should have hit him in the jaw, but the man had enough time to parry the attack and return it with surprising force.
Cédric staggered and caught himself on a nearby wall.
Romain, who had just put down one of the delinquents, came to his aid and hit the man in the ribs with enough force to make him fall. With such force, it was not impossible that the man had one or two cracked ribs despite his thick coat.
Karima was relieved to see that her volunteers were doing well. On her side, she managed to hold in check five very threatening individuals. One of them lost patience and pulled out a small pistol from his pocket. The young gendarme barely had time to react and leapt to the side to avoid the shot. The bullet passed very close to her leg and hit the asphalt. Without thinking, she drew her service weapon and fired at the man who received two bullets in the chest.
The shots rang out in the night, shocking all those present in the street. When the calm returned, the delinquents had fled except for the one who had pulled out a weapon and another who had lost consciousness. A heavy silence fell on the small street, only disturbed by the panting breaths of the exhausted fighters.
It took several minutes before a few curious people opened their shutters.
"Everything's fine, ladies and gentlemen," Karima said to the neighborhood residents, who were awakened in the middle of the night by the fight. "National Gendarmerie. We took care of these delinquents."
The inhabitants then began to applaud the young gendarme and the volunteers. The four young people felt like heroes. All smiles, like movie stars, they saluted before carrying away the body of the man who had been killed in the confrontation, not forgetting his weapon, and arrested the one who had lost consciousness.
The adjudant-chef knew he would be released for lack of space in the prisons, but it was necessary to show the inhabitants of the neighborhood that they did not leave him on the spot. If they had, they would have lost all credibility.
I hope at least he will be punished. These will have at least understood that things have changed.