EMP: Collateral Darkness
Book Four
Tony Mastrolacasa
Copyright © 2021 by Tony Mastrolacasa
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, except in the case of a brief quotation included in a critical review or article, without written permission from the author.
This book is a work of fiction.
All names, characters, places and events are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, locations or events is completely coincidental.
While every effort was made to include technical descriptions in a way that they appear accurate, they too are used fictitiously. The author assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions contained herein. This book was written for entertainment purposes only.
Special thanks to Carol Roberts for generously permitting the use of her photo for my cover.
This book is dedicated to the small pack of dogs that my wife and I have had the pleasure to call our babies over the past 25 years. You may or may not be surprised to learn that all of their names are featured in this series of books as main characters. So, without further ado, I present to you the canine inspired cast of EMP: Collateral Darkness.
Stu, red-bone coonhound.
Joey, beagle.
Brody, chocolate Labrador retriever.
Jersey, treeing Walker coonhound.
Cooper, silver Labrador retriever.
Leo, goldendoodle.
All of these wonderful dogs have brought tremendous joy to my wife and me and we couldn’t imagine what our lives would have been like without them. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again… If you want a pet, get a goldfish or a hamster. A dog is a valued member of the family.
We’ve led a very rich lives indeed.
Chapter 1
“Xander, it’s Ken... You in there, man?”
“Piss off, Kenny. Whatever you want, I don’t give a damn. Just handle it yourself.”
Ignoring his leader’s protests, Ken opened the door a sliver anyway. As Xander’s assistant, he was the only person that could get away with such an intrusion, although even he approached the task with extreme caution.
“I’m really sorry to wake you, Xander, but it’s serious. You’re gunna want to get up and see what’s going on.”
Xander opened his eyes and stared into the almost total darkness of his bedroom. Only a sharp wedge of white light streaked across the ceiling from the partially opened door. For the first time in weeks, he had actually managed to get to bed before midnight and already his personal idiot had ruined it. He exhaled loudly and turned towards his alarm clock, but couldn’t find it. It took him a couple of seconds of feeling around in the dark to realize that it was still there, but its display had gone blank.
Damn it.
He reached for the lamp on his nightstand, felt for the switch and gave it a twist. He heard a click, but the light failed to turn on. Giving the little knob a few additional spins did nothing to change that.
For crying out loud.
“Kenny, I’m gunna beat your ass. Did you wake me up just to tell me the damn power’s out?” Xander asked, looking towards the shadow still standing in the doorway.
“Not just the power, Xander, everything’s out. The phones, the radios… it’s all messed up. Bray’s the one that said I should come get you.”
Crap…
“Yeah okay, I’m coming. Try the light switch on the wall there, will ya?” Xander asked.
Ken felt for it on the wall, but of course, toggling it back and forth did nothing to alleviate the problem.
“Sorry, man.” Ken said. “Like I said, everything’s out.”
“Let me borrow your flashlight, Kenny. I can’t see a damn thing in here.” Xander said.
“Try the light on your Sig, Xander. That’s what we’re all using. They still work.”
Xander felt for the handgun on his bedside table and pressed the small button just past the trigger guard. He was immediately rewarded with a bright stream of white light emanating from just below the weapon’s barrel.
“Alright, let me get dressed. I’ll be out in a minute.” Xander said.
“You got it.” Ken said, closing the door again.
Xander set his pistol back down on the table, sat up and allowed himself another moment to stretch and yawn before climbing out. He had no idea what was going on, but he had the distinct impression that he wouldn’t be climbing back into his bed again anytime soon.
After a few minutes he finally made his way into the kitchen where a group of his men awaited. Rather than running the small flashlights mounted to their handguns, they were using the four burners of the gas stove to dimly illuminate the room. Xander shut his flashlight off as well and holstered his sidearm.
“Alright I’m up. What’s going on, Bray?” Xander asked as he pulled out a chair.
Brayden Ward was Xander’s second highest ranking captain. Whenever Bray was in the room, Xander didn’t normally bother with anybody else… unless, of course, his number one was present.
“Not really sure yet, Xander, but everything just died about 15 minutes ago.” Bray replied. “Most of us were heading off to bed, but Mars and a few of the guys were still out in the yard. He said the whole southern sky lit up a few times to the east and west of us. They’re out there now checking a few other things out.”
“Oh yeah… Any idea what time it is?” Xander asked, yawning again.
“None of our watches are working anymore either, but the last time I checked it was just past 1:00 a.m. It’s probably close to 1:30 by now.” Bray replied.
The door swung open and Mars stepped in. Judging by the look on his face, Xander already knew that the news was not good. Marcel Norris or ‘Mars’ to anybody that didn’t want to get drilled in the face, was Xander’s top guy, his number one man. He had been with ‘The Company’ from the very beginning and he had earned his position many times over. He was dependable and faithful to a fault, but he was also ruthless, the sickest son of a bitch amongst them. That was an impressive title in this particular company.
“We’re screwed.” Mars bluntly announced. “All our trucks are messed up too. We couldn’t start a single one of them.”
“Tell me about these lights in the sky, Mars.” Xander said. “You guys seeing UFOs now? Do I need to confiscate your little baggies?”
“Ha. I wish we were just stoned.” Mars replied. “I think they were nukes, Xander. Looks like the south got hit by them EMPs again, just like last month.”
“A month almost to the day.” Bray added.
“Yeah well, these ones went off a lot closer then them other ones.” Mars continued. “This time Sudbury got euchred too. The dead zone just got extended a shitload further north.”
“Do we have anybody out right now?” Xander asked, looking back at Bray.
“Mick’s crew is still down in the dead zone.” Bray replied. “Six of them took the two Suburbans out yesterday. They weren’t due back until tomorrow night.”
“How far in?” Xander then asked.
“Parry Sound.” Bray replied. “They had a few warehouses to hit and then they were just gunna see what they could find on their way back up to Sudbury.”
“Shit… I hope they’re not a right off.” Xander said. “Those LaFavre brothers were turning into good producers.”
“I’m sure they’ll find their way back.” Bray said. “Might take a while…”
“This is gunna really mess up our operation.” Xander said, examining the situation more closely. “I was already having a hard time figuring out how to unload all of that crap. Now we don’t even have our trucks a
nymore.”
“I told a few guys to get up on the roof and have a look around, see if there’s any lights on anywhere.” Mars said. “I doubt they’ll see any though. It’s just like they’ve been describing on TV for the past month, a big flash of light and everything electronic gets fried. Then it’s just… game over, man.”
“What about the lights on our handguns?” Ken asked. “How come they still work?”
“My contact in the States said that these weapons were all headed to Fort Lewis in the State of Washington.” Xander replied. “They’re part of some big purchase the U.S. Army made. That’s why he wanted us to hit those trucks. I guess the military’s stuff is protected from this type of crap in some way.”
“How many of these Army handguns did we get back in July?” Bray asked.
“I think the final count was somewhere in the neighbourhood of 200.” Xander replied. “200 Sig Sauer M17 handguns and enough Laser Max pistol lights and holsters for every single one of them. I think there’s around 10,000 batteries for them too. Other than the ones we’re carrying, they’re all still sitting there in the warehouse waiting for a buyer.”
Bray chuckled and said, “Shit, along with all those AR-15s we still haven’t unloaded and the crates of ammo, we’ve got enough hardware to start our own damn army.”
What was only meant as a light hearted joke caused Xander to turn to Bray with a huge grin on his face.
“You know… you might be onto something there, Bray.” Xander said. “If everyone and everything around here is suddenly fucked, we can take whatever the hell we want. The cops won’t be able to do anything about it because they’re just as screwed as everybody else. There isn’t even any military around because they’re all out west fighting off those North Korean pricks. Hell, if these latest nukes stretched all the way to the west coast those Army dudes are all stuck out there now.
“If we can’t sell these guns anymore it might be time to diversify our operation. Instead of selling them for cash we use them ourselves and take over this whole city. We’ll turn The Company into a damn empire. Look at what’s been happening down south. How long did it take for the largest cities in Canada and the U.S. to turn into burning piles of crap? A few weeks… maybe? The only people surviving are the ones that armed themselves. Everybody else either got shot and robbed or they’re slowly starving to death. This could be a real gold mine if we jump on it quick.”
“All of the sudden, other people’s shit is the only thing of value.” Mars added, already loving the idea. “That’s basically what we’ve been doing down in the dead zone for the past few weeks anyway.”
“Ha! That’s it, Mars. We’re in the ‘other people’s shit’ business now.” Xander said, getting more excited by the second.
“This isn’t exactly a weapons free zone, guys.” Bray said. “This is Sudbury. Every other house around here has a hunter living in it.”
“True, but we’ve got something they don’t, namely… 200 company men and a shitload of fucking guns.”
Alexander Diakos and a few of the guys he grew up with had started up a fledgling enterprise a few short years ago. With the help of some contacts he had in New Hampshire, New York and Connecticut, they had built ‘The Company’ into a very lucrative business.
For a generous fee, various weapons industry insiders would provide ‘Xander’ with the details and transportation schedule of shipments passing through the area. As a more direct route to the American Northwest, arms manufacturers in the Northeastern United States would commonly have their transports cross over into Canada from Buffalo, New York. This took advantage of both the shorter distance and the sparser traffic. Once through Sudbury, the highways were practically barren, especially at night. Of course, Xander knew all of this as well. He also knew where the most remote stretches of highway were located.
As soon as those transports got past Sudbury their drivers would have a choice to make, head west onto the Trans-Canada Highway or take the 144 north. West was the shorter route, closely following the coastline of Lake Superior, but it was littered with towns and potential traffic slow downs. Turning north meant taking a wide arching highway that led all the way around most of the populated areas. It would cost them some fuel, but the lack of civilization would still allow them to arrive well ahead of those choosing the coastal route… unless Xander knew they were coming. This was the highway on which The Company operated.
It was standard protocol for drivers to call in their intended routes well in advance. This was especially true for arms shipments. Their trucking companies could then track their trucks and arrange police escorts for some of their more ‘delicate’ cargos. This also allowed them to provide information to their clients should they wish to know how their delivery was progressing. If Xander happened to have a ‘friend’ with one of those clients, his phone would ring and The Company would scramble into action.
If the tractor-trailer was travelling without security they would get it pulled over, steal as much of its cargo as they could carry and then set the rest on fire. If the drivers cooperated and didn’t try anything stupid they would be left to wander the highway on foot. They might be a little worse for wear, but they would be released without serious injury. A high jacking would create a stir, Xander had reasoned, but a murder would ignite a province wide manhunt. All of his men had this fact drilled into their heads before every mission.
Conveniently and also somewhat ironically, Xander had found that the truck drivers themselves would always be unarmed. The trailers they would break into would often hold hundreds if not thousands of firearms, but there was never one in the cab with the driver. Xander had the Canadian Border Service to thank for that. They were always happy to confiscate any weapons that the American truck drivers ‘forgot’ to leave at home.
In Canada, only law enforcement officers were permitted to carry firearms. There were a few exceptions to this rule, of course, but being a U.S. citizen was not one of them. If the Border agent was feeling particularly understanding that day the driver would be disarmed and allowed to proceed into Canada. Sometimes said driver would even permitted to pick up his or her weapon on the way back into the States. Running into a border agent having a bad day, however, would result in a prompt arrest and the seizure of the truck pending payment of an exorbitant amount of fines.
Only once did The Company high jack an escorted transport truck and the result had been bad… very bad. Xander’s contact had told him that the shipment was simply too good to pass up, so he had decided to go for it. They had succeeded in their mission to empty out the trailer, but it had cost the Ontario Provincial Police two of its officers and the transport company a driver. The sudden unexpected assault on the police cruiser assured that no call for help had been sent, but the event had finally put The Company on the police’s radar. Xander had wisely chosen to temporarily cease all highway operations and concentrate instead on selling off some of their enormous stockpile.
The authorities had very little to go on, as the high jackers always left only a burned out hulk in their wake, but the name ‘Xander’ eventually became known to them. They didn’t know much about him or his organization, but the Royal Canadian Mounted Police had been assigned the case file and they were actively pursuing all leads.
The EMPs of August 26th quickly put an end to the RCMP’s investigations, though and Xander was free to resume his nefarious and now deadly activities. Of course, no more phone calls would come in from the States and no further transport trucks would be rolling through, but Xander was an industrious criminal. It wouldn’t take him long to realize that there was an opportunity here worth exploiting.
By some enormous stroke of luck, Sudbury had been spared from the majority of the EMP’s effects. They still had their electricity, their telephones and their vehicles. Other than a few small blackouts and some spotty cell phone reception, Xander’s home town was basically alright. Only 50 kilometres to the south, however, everything was suddenly a complete and total
dead zone. The power was out, the phones were useless and everyone was on foot. Until the authorities could send help down from up north, those in the south were helpless and Xander would capitalize on that… immediately.
The first wave of thieves had rushed down into the dead zone en masse that very morning, 150 men strong. The first blacked out town they came up on was Coldwater. It was only a small village that offered very little to Xander, but he had looted everything in sight nonetheless. The next town had a liquor store and the next a bank. It was all cleaned out as the swarm continued south on their rampage. Eventually, when they couldn’t possibly fit another stolen item in their trucks, Xander had turned his convoy around and raced them all back home to Sudbury. On their way north they would meet dozens of police cars and other emergency service vehicles racing south in the opposite lanes.
After that initial salvo on day one, Xander had been forced to reduce the scale of his raids considerably. Surprisingly, the authorities from the more northern communities had been very quick to send resources down into the dead zone. With most of the more lucrative targets quickly coming under guard, Xander had decided to employ a far more covert approach. They would stay away from the larger scores and concentrate instead on those less likely to be heavily defended. To that end, he had begun sending crews down quietly in only two or three vehicles at a time.
Of course, on September 25th, Xander had to rethink his entire operation again. A second wave of EMPs had forced him to bring his business much closer to home. They no longer had the use of their trucks or their phones, but Xander still had two things that nobody else in the area did, plenty of morally challenged men and an overabundance of guns and ammunition.
Not surprisingly, The Company would soon experience an influx of ‘worker bees’ that were anxious to prove their worth. Most were single young men that had suddenly found themselves with nothing to lose. Others had families to care for and risked losing everything. The only thing they held in common was that they were all desperate to find employment… no matter how questionable.
EMP [Collateral Darkness] | Book 4 Page 1