Gorge, a novel in progress by Michael Gullo (2026)
“I don’t know, Stef, I mean. This is pretty nuts.”
“T.J. worked his ass off.”
“I know, but nobody even responded to my email.”
“Phil, they’re not cancelling a swearing-in ceremony.”
“I’m sure they’re not, but are we gonna make it?”
“Slow down, asshole! We’ll make it if this Cannonball Run gets past us. Can they even see that it’s raining?”
“This is pretty serious. Look around you. People are starting to catch on, and it’s as good as it’s gonna be for a while.”
“Now you just sound like Michael.”
“He’s not wrong. Last Thursday we were on lockdown at the FBI, nobody in and nobody out, mandatory office. Brass Zoomed in, big brass, bigger than Keaton’s balls, big.”
“Yeah- and you didn’t tell me shit.”
“What would you have done – besides, I knew Michael was on top of it.”
“So tell me now.”
“The first sign was a settlement failure, not an outage. Thursday morning the Fed's interbank system rejected batches because the digital certificates that authenticate banks to each other stopped validating.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means banks could see each other and couldn't trust each other. It’s called a certificate cascade, and the money crimes office watches settlement the way a weather office watches radar.”
“So you left me out of the loop because you couldn’t see my certificates. Let me help you out – best friend. Certified.”
“It wasn’t possible anyway. By midday FinCEN, put out a flash to the field offices: a coordinated compromise of the certificate authorities the banking system runs on, cause unknown, treat as hostile until told otherwise. Field offices were told to stand up their continuity plans and to say nothing – the say nothing part, Stef.”
“When you know the world’s about to end, you tell me.”
“I did.”
“You’re just telling me now.”
“This is when I knew. Until now they were trying to fix it. They locked us down Thursday, but in the afternoon they opened the cordon. I never saw so many people had a sudden business meeting – I think they knew what we were doing, and wanted to give us a fighting chance.”
“What were you doing?”
“No one would ever admit it, but every agent in that meeting went to their banks and credit unions, and they took out as much money as they were allowed – the banks were limiting by afternoon.”
“So you went and got cash to get through this and didn’t say shit to me?”
“The limit at my bank was five-hundred bucks. Besides, I knew Michael was on top of it.”
“Why Michael? I can prep too, you know.”
“Steff.”
“Okay, but I can’t let him…”
“Mum’s the word. So the rest of the day it’s like everyone that came back to the office just got laid or something – all calm and cool – that’s another accident – little slower.”
“It’s those assholes almost took off my back bumper…”
“Why you opening my window?”
“Wave, Phil.”
“You’re letting rain in.”
“Smile. That’s it. Hey, fellas. Anybody hurt?”
“No. Did you see that? He cut me off.”
“Good luck, fellas.”
“Wait-”
“Oh, that’s cold. What’s this upholstery?”
“Why?”
“The rain just soaked into like the weave or whatever, and it’s gone.”
“Magic.”
“– Radio, 1616 Revenue –”
“Why you calling dispatch?”
-Uhhhh, go ahead, did you say Revenue?-
“Department of Revenue, traveling westbound on Interstate forty on official business in a private vehicle.”
-Go ahead, Revenue.-
“Are you taking accident reports?”
-We’re on personal injury only.-
“What’s the state of traffic between mile --- 322 inbound to Nashville?”
-I’ve got you here 1616. You don’t sound like Stefanie Cook. This is an unauthorized use.-
“Give me that – This is Special Agent Stefanie Cook. I’m driving and SAIC, Phil Carney was working the radio.” -What’s your post number, Agent Cook?-
“31818. I’m going to give this radio back to Phil now.”
-Sorry for the hip check, Agent Cook.-
“No problem – Next time I impersonate one of my agents, I’ll use a higher pitched voice.”
-This channel is for THP business, Agent.-
“I was calling with THP business, but you’re not taking 10-50 PDs right now, and I thought I’d get any 10-53’s inbound from 322.”
“Look at little Phil. Ten years of plain speak, and he pulls wrecker code out of his ass daisy fresh.”
“It’s a mess out here, Radio. Any 10-13 for my air inbound from 319?”
-Nothing pertinent 1616. Have a good trip.-
“Did she just?”
“Yup.”
“10-4, Radio.”
“Maybe don’t be so rude next time.”
“Everybody’s so sensitive.”
“Not sensitive. You people get that federal badge, and you lose all your manners.”
“Sensitive.”
-beep-
“What’s next after you get all your money safe and sound on Thursday while the rest of us peasants toil in the fields?”
“So, there wasn’t really a reason to tell you on Thursday. We got it before lunch, and FINCEN Zoom – The plan’s to get through the day and hope nothing gets out and since Friday’s already a holiday push new certificates and it’s like nothing ever happened.”
“So you bunch of creeps go running to the bank to do exactly what you would arrest any banker for without the least compunction, and you say nothing.”
“Stef, if the word got out, the markets would crash in seconds. As it was, we’re all jammed in around the one guy’s got his own Etrade account loaded up, watching the DOW like the last minutes in the ICU. And there was a blip too. Did you see it? Did Michael bitch? The last minute was like straight down two-hundred points.”
“Didn’t mention it.”
“Well, the plan was Friday, but it didn’t work. It was all hands on Saturday, and not one phone call. We expected news, and nothing. There were rumors and then FBI Cyber issued the FLASH, Repeated certificate uploads failed. Global effect. Hostile actor. That was all.”
-beep-
“You should have said something.”
“What could I say? You’d just… Jesus!”
“I’ve never seen a tractor trailer going that fast in my whole life.”
“He’s gonna kill someone.”
“Don’t key that radio, Phil. She’ll shut it down.”
“That guy’s not your concern – best friend, not one word.”
“Stef, what could I say? By Saturday it was all she wrote. They put out a couple alerts, Phase one: moot, Phase two: Card Authorizations degrade, Phase three: Paychecks fail, cash and carry. Phones went a little at a time. Unrest. Blah blah blah. Grocery stores, gas stations.”
“So nobody knows anything?”
“They all know – they know everything. It’s over for a while.”
“How long?”
“A long while.”
“Why?”
“Look around. Some people caught on, but for the most part, it’s calm. No emergency alert, no president from the Oval Office, no news, no nothing. It’s like they just turned it off.”
“Why?”
“So they had time to get safe.”
“What happens in a few hours when these people, like, confirm or whatever.”
“That’s why I told you I didn’t want to come to this.”
“It’s T.J.’s swearing in. You have to swear him in. He worked so hard for this.”
“I know. But what am I swearing him in to? The Department of Revenue is a letterhead.”
“We’re swearing him in, Phil, and we’re taking him out to eat with his family.”
“And then we’re heading right out, Stefanie. I have two kids and a wife to take care of, and if the FLASH is correct, tonight’s gonna be hot and heavy, and I have to be back before dark.”
“We’ll be back before dark --- Where are all of these street racers coming from?”
“It’s crazy, but why don’t you go faster?”
“Above eighty, this thing spends battery like crazy.”
“I never should have gotten in this truck. We should have taken mine.”
-beep-
“Think it through, Phil. If the gas stations are closed, and the credit cards don’t work, how are you gonna get gas?”
“If the internet is down, you’ll have the same problem.”
“Nope. I can charge this thing with an extension cord.”
“And if there’s no power?”
“We find a house with solar.”
“My neighbor has solar panels, and when the power goes out in the neighborhood, so does his.”
“Then your neighbor doesn’t have batteries.”
“So, let me get this straight. Your plan is to go to Nashville, charge up with an extension cord and get home by tonight?”
“Not exactly. My plan is to go to Nashville and swear in my friend, the man I’ve been training for the last seventeen weeks, and then go to the Chevy or GMC dealer and use one of their lot trucks to charge this one.”
“You can do that?”
“I can do that.”
“We can siphon gas from one car to the other car.”
“Yeah, you go suck a hose in a gas tank. I’ll plug up.”
“Do you absolutely need to charge?”
“Yeah, that’s a thing. No way we get back without it.”
“So we plug up during the ceremony, and we’re out of here.”
“Not quite.”
“Wall outlet is our last option.”
“Why do I feel like it’s you not telling the whole story now.”
“How do you like it?”
“This is a little more real than my offense.”
“I’m the executioner here, and I say the accused is guilty as charged.”
“Fine. Guilty. And I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, but I did sincerely think they were going to fix it or whatever.”
“I can see that. Neck deep in the soup, and you’re going to drink a spoon full.”
“So, how do we charge this up?”
“Honest, answer. Don’t get up in arms like some angry mob.”
“Stef, I have to get back to the kids. Meghan’s gonna be scared.”
“Phil, you’re the one left your family this morning and drove to Knoxville like any other day.”
“This is different.”
-beep-
“Is that your phone?”
“It’s Wifi.”
“Like searching for Wifi?”
“Sort of. When it finds a signal, it beeps.”
“So it tells you when you have internet?”
“No. It tells me when it sees Wifi.”
“Where’s the signal from?”
“I guess it’s the buildings we pass.”
“How do you know if you have internet?”
“Just like normal. Connect to the network and see.”
“Why aren’t you checking?”
“Stef, the signal pops on and pops off as you pass it.”
“These trucks are crazy.”
“Charging, Stef. Tell me about the charging.”
“Fine. So plan-A is we beg.”
“You better have more sentences there.”
“We go to the GMC dealer and use their open-source charger. Usually, there’s a charger at the service department.”
“Oh, that’s brilliant! But what if service is closed?”
“Most things we’ve passed so far are open.”
“Why don’t we just go to one of those chargers at like Walmart or whatever?”
“Jesus! Slow down, assholes! It’s like a free for all out here. All of the public chargers are pegged to my credit card, and they don’t take cash.”
“How about a gas station one?”
“Those aren’t attended at all. The cashier has nothing to do with whomever the company is that has a charger in their parking lot.”
“So, you’ve got us out here completely dependent upon the good will of a mechanic’s only at work today because his boss made him come in.”
“If they’re even open.”
“You just…”
“Plan-B…”
“This better be better than Plan-A.”
“Then why would it be Plan-B?”
“Spit it out.”
“We find an EV, and we charge V2V.”
“Vehicle to vehicle.”
“Obviously.”
“Can you do that?”
“As long as it’s capable.”
“Why don’t we go to a dealership like now.”
“We don’t have time. It’s eighty-five miles to the office. We have about 225 miles of range left.”
“What’s that mean in real world?”
“We need about fifty kilowatts to get to Nashville and then get all the way back home.”
“How many miles?”
“We’ll be about eighty to a hundred miles short if we don’t get it.”
“We have to get it.”
“That’s – What the fu – This is ridiculous. How are these people even telling each other that there’s no cops?”
“The word is out, for sure. Give me your phone.”
“Here.”
“No your state phone.”
“It’s right there. What are you doing?”
“You’ll see.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“You’ll see.”
“Is that Play store?”
“Not really. It’s just the app. Drive. Here comes another one.”
“That’s two. They have to be doing a hundred-thirty.”
“Just stay still and let it happen.”
“What are you doing?”
“Be patient, Stef.”
“Yup, that’s it.”
“What the heck are you talking about?”
“Here.”
“What’s this?”
“It’s an app called Bridgefy.”
“What’s Bridgingfly?”
“So the app store on your phone allows you to transfer apps from one Android phone to another. I just transferred BridgeFy to your phone from my phone, and as soon as you get registered, you’ll have this feed.”
“What is the feed, Phil?”
“Oh, this is definitely it.”
“Phil!”
“This is how they know to be here.”
“The street racers?”
“Yes. They’re using the app.”
“How does this app work?”
“It uses the phone’s Bluetooth.”
“How?”
“Just… Whenever you find a faint internet signal, you register fast. You’ll get this.”
“But what is it?”
“It’s a live chat networking itself through a bunch of phone’s Bluetooth signals.”
“What’s Feistybitch?”
“Just click confirm the second you find an internet signal of any kind in your wifi. It’s set to alert you to connected networks.”
“The internet was gone when I left the house.”
“Not exactly. Most access to internet is gone, but there are scraps out there. You just have to find them.”
“How do you know this shit?”
“They used it in Iran this summer. The internet was turned off, but they couldn’t turn off the Bluetooth in everyone’s phone. Without it, Iran would have been a black hole.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“Here we go again.”
“It’s 12:33. We have one hour to get to the office, and we turn and burn after lunch with the fam. Maybe we can get wild and plan lunch while we charge at a dealership.”
“Oh, that would be perfect. Do you know where the GMC dealer is in Nashville?”
“I sort of know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew that?”
“Oh, that’s the game now. No problem. I shift on the fly.”
-beep-
“There it is. Pull over fast.”
“But.”
“It’s a signal. If you outdrive it, it’s gone. Pull over.”
“I am.”
“Faster.”
“Actually, slower.”
“Back up. Keep going. I bet it’s that place right there.”
“Nothing.”
“Keep backing up.”
“My God, all the trucks are…”
-beep-
“It’s the trucks. The truckers have Wifi.”
“How, Stef?”
“I don’t know. But when that thing was beeping, there were trucks around us.”
“Catch that last one.”
“I’ll try.”
“WTF.”
“Watts to freedom, baby. Zero to sixty in 2.9 seconds!”
“You’ll need a hundred to catch that guy.”
“They’re flying too.”
“Do you guess they’re on the Bridgefy too?”
“It seems like everyone knows something we don’t, and we’re the GDL.”
“We know it. It’s this Duracell douche canoe can’t do more than eighty.”
“Oh, it does more than eighty.”
“Stef, slow down.”
“No.”
“Stef, one oh five is enough.”
“One twelve --- what the hell?”
“What?”
“It stopped increasing. I’ve got it to the floor, and it’s just flat one-twelve.”
“We’ll need more than fifty kilowatts though.”
“Is that okay?”
“It’s okay if we find a charger.”
“Gimme your phone.”
“Take it.”
“There it is. Yes, that’s it. He has a Starlink in there.”
“Like an open network?”
“Yes, and it says it has internet access.”
“Are you connected?”
“Connecting.”
“And?”
“Connecting.”
“Come on.”
“Connecting --- I didn’t realize you want this so bad.”
“If this works, Michael has a Starlink in the Solar room.”
“The bunker?”
“It really is just a solar equipment room with a thick concrete roof in case of battery fire. It’s directly below the bedroom, and he has about like ten heat sensors and alarms and fire alarms. It’s just to buy us time in case of a fire.”
“It’s a bunker.”
“Fine. But what it really is is a safe place to store your own power plant in a house.”
“How’d --- There it is. You’re Feistybitch! I can’t believe that we not only found a signal, but that Bridgify servers were still online to accept your registration.”
“Will wonders never cease.”
“You’re still doing ninety-five.”
“I’ve never seen trucks going this fast before.”
“Here, read your feed.”
“Driving, Phil.”
“Put on that self driving thing.”
“I don’t know if that works, like, now.”
“Put it on.”
“I am.”
“Well?”
“No. See that blue light? That turns green solid when it’s on. We spent a lot of miles there.”
“How much?”
“We’ll need a little bit more charge, that’s for sure.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“Why’s that?”
“This says the interstate is blocked off at Mount Juliet.”
“What?”
“We can’t get downtown.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The road is closed.”
“How do you know that?”
“The app.”