After The EMP Box Set [Books 7-9]: The Hope Trilogy

by Tate, Harley

Brianna shouted from the front. “Get down!”

  Tracy pulled the rifle off the back and fell onto the floor. “I can’t see.”

  “They’re gaining.”

  Tracy blinked. Flashes of red and white bounced in front of her eyes. She fumbled for the seat back.

  “I think they’re gonna ram us!” Brianna half-shrieked. “I can’t go any faster!”

  They couldn’t get run off the road. If the truck hit them, Brianna would lose control. Tracy blinked again and the red blended into spotty shapes. She couldn’t climb up into the front and wait for the people in the truck to take them out.

  She had to fight back. No giving up. No admitting defeat. Tracy grunted as she shoved the cardboard box toward the back.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Ending this.” Tracy inhaled through her nose and pulled the rifle up onto the box. It cleared the window ledge by an inch. Thanks to the high beams, she couldn’t see, but it didn’t matter.

  She had a full magazine and an extra after that. If she didn’t hit the driver after thirty rounds, then she might as well let them kill her. She exhaled and took aim two feet above the center of the right light.

  Pull, pull, pull. Tracy fired off shot after shot, not stopping until the entire magazine was empty. The truck rattled and shook. The horn blared.

  She held her breath. The headlights began to fade and bounce. As she watched, they wobbled to the left and veered off the road.

  “Did you hit them?”

  Tracy waited to make sure. “I think so. It looks like it’s in the ditch.”

  Brianna whooped for joy. “Way to go!”

  Tracy reached out with shaky fingers for the open window and pulled it down via the latch. She managed to shut it after a few tries with a solid yank that sent her flying.

  The truck’s headlights faded and the back of the SUV darkened.

  I did it. I really did it.

  Tracy stayed on her back, catching her breath until the last of the light from the pickup truck disappeared. Only then did she climb back over the seat and the console and join Brianna in the front.

  Her daughter’s best friend reached out and grabbed her hand. “Thank you, Tracy.”

  “Thank you. That was some fine driving.” She reached down to the floor and fished out a bottle of water. After draining half of it, she handed it to Brianna, who finished it off. “Do you think you can still find the hospital?”

  Brianna nodded. “We can come at it from the east. It’s a bit longer route, but assuming we don’t hit any more roadblocks, we should be there within the hour.”

  Tracy buckled her seatbelt and leaned back. Hopefully by the time they found the hospital, she could catch her breath.

  Chapter Eighteen

  COLT

  Unidentified Farm

  Near Truckee, CA

  8:00 p.m.

  The barn door loomed ahead. Colt hugged the worn siding, keeping low and out of sight. So far, he’d encountered zero resistance. Either a million men waited inside the barn, or the operation was significantly smaller than it appeared.

  He stopped at the corner. With a rifle slung over his shoulder, his Sig in his hand, and a backup Glock 19 in an appendix holster, he had enough firepower to handle a small platoon. But the sight of the children nagged him. Dani had been practically an orphan and when he found her; it wasn’t pretty.

  Killing a father didn’t sit well with him. Colt exhaled. He would only shoot if absolutely necessary.

  Using his free hand, he slid the door to the barn open enough to squeeze through. It wasn’t a stable. The entire place had been turned into living quarters. He slid the door shut and faced a small antechamber.

  Walls had been roughed-in a ten-by-ten-foot room with a door leading to additional areas beyond. No taller than eight feet in height, the walls lacked paint. Drywall mud tracked across the seams and nail holes.

  Someone knew how to build but didn’t have the time or money to finish. He frowned. It wasn’t what he expected. How many rooms waited on the other side? Colt strode toward the interior door.

  He put his ear up to the hollow core. Silence.

  The handle turned in his grip and he swung the door out wide, gun up and ready. A hallway greeted him.

  Shit.

  Rooms flanked the hall all the way down the length of the barn, five on each side at least. He would have to search one by one to find Walter. How many were empty? How many held someone who could sound an alarm?

  He stepped with caution along the unfinished plywood floor, counting the rooms and assessing the odds. Eleven more closed doors on the sides and one at the end. Based on the ceiling, the hallway ended short, only three-quarters of the way down the length of the barn. He guessed the final door led to a great room. Maybe a cafeteria or a meeting space. A place to house vehicles.

  Colt sucked in a breath. It didn’t smell like gasoline or rubber. It smelled like a barn. Rough wood and dirt and stale animal stink.

  It hadn’t been converted to human space for long.

  He hurried back to the beginning and braced himself for door number one across from the antechamber. With a quick turn of the knob, it opened. Colt exhaled. Empty.

  A bunk bed flanked the far wall and a pair of small desks perched against the other. A dorm room. Or a barracks. He shut the door and kept going.

  The next three were the same. All empty, all made for two people.

  He was beginning to think this place was more than a family farm. The next door opened to an office with a single desk, rows of bookshelves stuffed to the gills behind it. He eased inside and scanned the titles.

  Archery 101.

  Farming for Urbanites.

  Field Dressing for Dummies.

  Shoot First.

  He frowned. Everything someone would need to start over in the new America and stay alive doing it. Urgency mixed with dread in Colt’s veins and he wiped a burst of sweat off his forehead.

  The next room smelled of wool and mothballs and contained more clothes and blankets and towels than Colt had seen in one place outside of a department store. He shut the door and kept going. More barracks. They could house eighteen people in the barn, two to a room.

  Colt swallowed. Eighteen people prepped to fight would be a formidable force. He hoped Dani was following his instructions. She couldn’t defend herself against even half that many. She needed to hide.

  Stepping back into the hallway, Colt paused. The large room at the end beckoned. If Walter was still in the barn, he had to be there. He readied himself and opened the door.

  The first thing that hit him was the smell. Not of horses or manure or a stable full of farm equipment, but coffee. Fresh-brewed coffee.

  Four long wood tables occupied the middle of the space with a roughed-in kitchen along the far wall. Comfortable chairs were clumped on the end with coffee tables and stacks of books. It was a rec room. And it wasn’t empty.

  Walter sat at a table, coffee mug in one hand and a half-eaten biscuit in the other. Colt shut the door and rushed him. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Walter blinked. “Colt? What are you doing here?”

  “Rescuing you. Come on.”

  “What? No, no.” Walter shook his head. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

  Colt spied the bandage on his shoulder. “You were shot! I knew it.” He reached for the other man’s arm. “Dani and Larkin are outside. We need to go, now.”

  “Is that what the commotion is about? Oh, Colt. This will never work.”

  “Of course it will as long as we hurry.”

  An oversized exterior door on the other side of the room slid open and a lantern bobbed in the air. A stream of children filed in, one after the other, and took their seats on a bench at one of the tables. Ranging in age from four to at least sixteen, they all stopped and stared when they spotted Colt.

  Whispers ran down the length of the table as a woman in black pants and parka entered the room. With hair the color of terra-cotta, she
reminded Colt of the flight attendant back in Eugene.

  When she saw Colt, she froze. “Can I help you?”

  Colt glanced at Walter. “I’m taking this man out of here.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to talk to Benjamin about that.”

  “No, I don’t.” Colt moved closer to Walter and dropped his voice. “Come with me now and you can explain everything later.”

  Walter smiled at the woman. “It’s okay, Jenny. He won’t hurt me.”

  “You know the rules, Walt. We can’t let him leave.”

  Colt’s eyes bounced back and forth. Jenny? Walt? Did they know each other? What the hell was going on?

  A shout rose from outside the barn and Colt’s insides twisted. He would recognize that voice anywhere.

  “Stay still!” A man’s booming voice cut off the scream.

  “Ben!” Jenny cupped her mouth and shouted at the open doorway. “In here!”

  A moment later, one of the men Colt watched rush from the house entered dragging Dani along behind. She looked around in a panic, blood dripping from a wound in her scalp. It coated her cheek and fell to the floor in fat, wet plops.

  “Dani!”

  She jerked her head toward Colt’s voice and the man holding her brought up his gun: a shotgun with a short barrel and a pistol grip. Based on the way he held it, Colt guessed he could fire it one-handed without a problem and put a hole half a foot wide in Colt’s chest.

  Not good.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  Jenny volunteered. “He says he’s here to take Walt.”

  “Like hell he is.” Ben’s grip twisted in Dani’s hair and the girl lashed out, pelting his shin with kicks.

  “Let me go, you overgrown troll!”

  The man laughed. “For someone who tried to burn down my farm, you’re not much of a fighter.”

  “We didn’t try to burn it down. We created a distraction.” Colt took a step forward. “Let her go.”

  “Or what?”

  Colt frowned at the children. All seven of them huddled together, the oldest clutching the arm of the littlest as she cried. He didn’t want to shoot anyone. He didn’t want to harm the kids or leave them orphans.

  “I don’t want to hurt your family.”

  “You won’t.” Ben turned and shouted into the dark. “Harris, Killian, get in here!”

  In moments, two more men appeared, each one armed.

  “Daddy!” One of the little girls, no older than five or six, hopped off the bench, but the closest man stuck out his arm.

  “Not now, baby.”

  The girl stopped, a sob bubbling up her throat.

  Colt’s frown deepened. He could make it out of there, but only if he shot the place to hell.

  This wasn’t like Eugene where he didn’t care if Jarvis or his men survived. He wasn’t a child-killer. He wasn’t a widow-maker.

  He swallowed and set his handgun on the table before holding up his hands.

  Ben nodded. “Rifle, too.”

  Colt unslung the rifle before setting it next to the Sig. “I’ve got a Glock in my belt.”

  “Then get rid of it.”

  Colt pulled the gun from the holster and added it to the pile.

  “What are you doing? Why aren’t you fighting back?” Dani twisted in her captor’s grip, but Colt merely exhaled.

  “We’re outnumbered.”

  “So what!” She tried to kick Ben again and he cursed beneath his breath. The other two men approached and he let them take Dani. She fought the whole time until they pinned her arms behind her back.

  Unencumbered, Ben rolled his neck. “You all right, Walter?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Do you know these people?”

  “I do.” Walter glanced at Colt with an unreadable expression. “But I didn’t ask them to come.”

  “Is this how your group acts? They rush in, ready to take what isn’t theirs?”

  “They thought I was in trouble. They’re here to rescue me.”

  Ben turned to Colt. “Is that true?”

  “It is.”

  “You’ve done a piss-poor job of it if you ask me.”

  The oldest kid on the bench snickered and Ben pinned him with a look. “Help everyone go back to bed, will you, Sam? The emergency is over.”

  “Oh, Uncle Ben, come on. It’s early.”

  “It’s past your bedtime, Taylor, and you know it.”

  Colt watched as the woman walked up to Ben and whispered in his ear. He glanced at Colt and nodded.

  One by one the kids filed out of the barn and Jenny followed. Her voice carried back inside. “Hurry up everyone. It’s cold and you aren’t properly dressed.”

  As the last sounds of the kids faded, Ben’s face hardened. He turned to the other two men. “Take them all to the stables. They can sleep there tonight.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  TRACY

  Mountain Valley Hospital

  Truckee, CA

  10:00 p.m.

  A gray concrete building loomed ahead, white and red emergency signs broken and dark. Brianna killed the headlights at the first sign and eased over to the side of the road.

  She turned to Tracy. “How do we want to do this?”

  “Let’s stash the vehicle and come at it on foot.”

  Brianna nodded and navigated behind an abandoned strip mall that used to house a sporting goods store and a karate school. “I don’t have a clue where a vaccine might be.”

  Tracy frowned. “Neither do I. Most likely spots are the pharmacy and the ER.”

  “Both of which are going to be trashed.”

  “Then we do the best we can. If we’re lucky, no one took the vaccines.” Tracy tightened her bag on her back and checked the second rifle magazine. She knew what a long shot the hospital would be, but they didn’t have a choice. Madison had to have the vaccine. Tracy refused to think about the alternative.

  They shut and locked the SUV and together headed toward the hospital. Keeping to the shadows, it didn’t take long. Tracy’s nose wrinkled as they entered the parking lot.

  “Ugh. What’s that smell?”

  “Do you really want to know?” Visions of an overflowing morgue filled Tracy’s mind. “How long could the place keep running on backup generators?”

  “A few days.”

  “After that, everyone in intensive care died.”

  “And a whole host of other people, too.” Brianna pointed at the front doors to the ER. Even in the moonlight, Tracy could make out the giant circle with a slash mark through it. As they neared, a scrawled out CLOSED came into view.

  “Didn’t seem to stop people.”

  Every window on the first floor that didn’t have plywood nailed to it was broken.

  Brianna shuddered against a gust of wind. “How long do you think it’s been like this?”

  “Months.” Tracy picked her way through frozen bits of trash in the parking lot. Thanks to the sheer number of abandoned cars, the snow hadn’t piled up more than an inch or two.

  Together, the women snaked their way up to the front. With temperatures falling into the teens, no one was foolish enough to be outside, but that didn’t mean the hospital would be empty.

  Tracy reached for Brianna’s arm as they got to the broken windows of the emergency room. “There’s liable to be all sorts of people living inside. We need to be careful.”

  Brianna nodded. “Let’s search the ER first. Then we’ll find the pharmacy.”

  Tracy stepped over the broken glass and into the hospital. Snowdrifts piled in the corners. Wadded-up paper and plastic and crushed bottles littered the floor. She clicked on her flashlight and Brianna did the same.

  “Whoa.” Brianna panned the lobby with a slow arc of light. “It’s straight out of a disaster movie.”

  She was right. They had been inside ransacked stores and survived the chaos of Chico State, but Tracy had never seen anything like the Truckee hospital. If it wasn’t nailed down, it was
smashed, ripped, or mangled.

  Holes gaped like hungry mouths in the walls. Springs stuck through the torn fabric of a sagging couch. Soot tracked across the ceiling. A trash can sat in the corner, nestled among scorched and broken bits of wood. Squatters, keeping themselves warm.

  Tracy slung the rifle across her body and reached for the Glock. She needed freedom of movement. “Let’s head to the nurses’ station. There has to be a directory.”

  Brianna hopped the counter. “Watch your step. It’s a mess.” She eased forward and Tracy followed a few paces behind.

  She found a map on the wall beside a pair of double doors. “Here.”

  According to the map, a central dispensary for the ER was in the southwestern corner. Tracy took off, half running down the hall. She knew before she reached the counter that it would be hopeless.

  Every step brought more destruction. Graffiti on the walls, doors off their hinges. Dried blood pooled on the floor.

  Tracy shuddered.

  “Don’t give up. We’ll find it.” Brianna squeezed Tracy’s arm as she eased past to take the lead. She stopped in front of the counter and grimaced. Where sliding glass windows used to be, only broken shards remained. She tried to smile. “At least it’s easier to get inside.”

  Both women scrambled over the counter and found themselves in a war zone. Boxes and bottles and used syringes littered the floor. Shelves were broken and leaning against each other. Cabinet doors lay in front of empty shelves.

  “There’s nothing left.”

  Brianna shrugged off the doom. “Let’s check to make sure.”

  An hour later, even Brianna’s optimism faded. She slumped against the only standing shelving unit and wiped at the sweat dripping off her nose. “We need to find a map. The main hospital pharmacy should be on this floor.”

  Tracy stripped off her sweater and tied it around her waist before tugging her hair up into a haphazard bun. “If the ER didn’t have a single usable Band-Aid, the pharmacy won’t have a vaccine.”

  Brianna pushed herself upright. “We won’t know unless we look for ourselves.”

  Tracy knew Brianna was right, but she couldn’t help but voice the despair threatening to drag her under. It swelled inside her belly, a thick black sludge of horror. Her daughter was going to die—not after living a long and happy life, with a husband and kids and a house of her own, but in the middle of nowhere in the dead of winter.