Survival EMP Box Set | Books 1-4

by Lopez, Rob

  As the crowd dispersed, the speaker that Grandma didn’t like muttered, “Damn plant is going to blow and this city’s going to glow like Chernobyl, but hell yeah, let’s have some community spirit and worry about candles.”

  Josh felt a tug at his elbow and turned to see the Henderson boy, Rory. A freckle faced teen, Josh had watched him from a distance, growing over the years. From an ordinary looking youth, he’d acquired muscles and the confidence that seemed to go with it, cruising with his bros at the weekend and hanging out with girls – the complete opposite of Josh. Close up, though, his demeanor was tender and respectful, and nothing like the hooligan image Elena had painted.

  “How are you doing?” said Rory, concerned. “I heard about what happened at the creek. That was a bad deal.”

  Josh stared mutely at him.

  “Sorry to hear about your grandpa,” continued Rory. “That must have been tough.”

  Josh didn’t know what to say. Behind Rory stood some of the older kids in the street, gazing at him in fraternal unison.

  “Look, I just want to say that, if you’re going to go down to the creek again, you should get one of us to go with you. We can’t let the creeps from that neighborhood get one over on us, you know? We’ve got to stick together.”

  Josh recognized the faces from his many visits to his grandma, but he didn’t really know any of them. In truth, he’d felt intimidated by them. He didn’t make friends easily.

  Rory scratched the imaginary stubble on his smooth cheeks. “Me and the boys are going over to the Jackson highway tonight, see if we can check out some of the trucks left there. Supplies for the community, you understand. We could use an extra pair of hands, if you’re willing. If there are enough of us, it should be okay. Wanna come?”

  “Yeah,” said one of the boys. “You coming?”

  Josh gazed blankly at them, his insides icing up.

  He was saved by his grandma. “Come along, Josh,” she said, casting a harsh glance at Rory.

  Josh allowed himself to be meekly led away. Any other time, he would have felt ashamed. For now, he simply felt numb.

  Elena and Max joined them in the house.

  “Well, that was a load of nothing,” said Max bitterly.

  “What do you expect?” said Elena. “They’re doing everything they can.”

  “What’s that exactly? Look how many transmission lines are down. You see anybody coming to fix them? No. And how could they anyway? The trucks won’t move. And all that crap about concealed licenses don’t take away from the fact they took my gun. What am I going to do? Holler 911 and wait for some cop on a bike to get out to us?”

  Elena rolled her eyes. “Always complaining.”

  “And why shouldn’t I? They got nothing for us. I tell you, nothing.”

  Grandma looked over at Josh and Lizzy. “You children had better go to your room,” she said tenderly. “Play a board game, perhaps.”

  Without a murmur of protest, the children about-faced and sloped into the room, lying down on the bed. Whatever talk Grandma was protecting them from, however, could still be heard through the door.

  “You heard him talk about the nuclear plant,” said Max. “If that blows, we’re all going to be growing two heads.”

  “If it allowed you to think better,” said Elena, “that would be an improvement.”

  Josh stared at the ceiling.

  “I’m glad you didn’t go with those boys,” said Lizzy. “I don’t want you to join a gang.”

  Josh turned thoughts over in his mind. The image of the crazy kid with the baseball bat, of Grandpa stretched out stiff and cold, and that nurse’s disdain, all churned together in a kaleidoscope of images that already seemed distant. The few friends he had back home felt a million miles away. And Mom and Dad... were just gone. It was like he and Lizzy were orphans, shipped out to some strange place. People talked past them or behind them, not knowing what to do with them. Yesterday he felt like a man. This morning he felt like a child. Now he didn’t know what he was. He was just drifting.

  Taking his sister’s hand, he squeezed it tight.

  24

  “He hasn’t spoken much since his father left,” said April.

  Lauren sat on the ground, her back against a tree. Through the sparse woods, she could just see the raised highway of I-95, and glimpsed the silhouettes moving along it against a darkening sky. Ever since leaving Baltimore, they’d encountered other refugees fleeing the troubled city, and many of the vehicles on the tollway had already been broken into, the contents of glove boxes and trunks strewn over the concrete. Cargo tarps on truck trailers flapped in the breeze after desperate hands had ripped them away to facilitate the looting of boxes. A single body lay by an open door, a jacket covering its chest and face and no clue as to how the person had died. Lauren, for one, didn’t want to investigate. She realized now that she should have, in order to assess the risk of staying on the highway. The road led directly to Washington DC, and Lauren expected that soon they would meet refugees coming the other way. They were trapped between two cities, with suburbs close by in every direction. She had to make a decision about when to strike out west to detour around the urban areas, but she had no idea which roads would be best. She badly needed a map. She also needed to find a way to move faster. She estimated they’d made maybe fifteen miles on foot. If she planned to make her way home via minor roads, or in the hills out west, progress would be even slower.

  “How long ago did he leave?” said Lauren.

  They were eating Powerbars and drinking Gatorade from April’s bug-out bag. April wanted a fire to cook some hot food, but Lauren vetoed the idea, worried that a fire would attract unwanted attention.

  “It’s been two years,” said April. “We had a nice place in Highlandtown, but after he left, I couldn’t afford the rent, so I had to move somewhere real cheap. Only reason it was cheap was because no one else wanted to live there. My boy’s seen too many bad things since then, and he just don’t want to speak now. The social worker said he needed speech therapy. I told her to get the hell out. The only therapy he needed was a safe place to grow.”

  “Why were those men beating you? What did they want?”

  April’s hand drifted to the bruises on her face. “I made a dumb mistake. Me and Choo had a thing together. It only lasted a couple of weeks. He seemed a nice guy at first, even though I knew he was in a gang. I thought he was different – you know, the way you always do when you want to believe a guy ain’t like the others. Didn’t take long to see I was wrong, and we had no chemistry anyway. After we broke, we stayed on good terms. It was amicable. Then I found he’d hidden a stash of drugs in my apartment. They do that sometimes – it’s like insurance. As soon as I discovered it, I threw it in the trash. Didn’t want any of that shit around my boy. Eventually I forgot about it. Then the power goes out, the street price goes up and Choo’s thinking to get himself an advantage. He wasn’t so happy when I told him it was gone. I should have bugged out earlier, but I was too late.”

  Daniel, the little boy, slept peacefully in the stroller, his little hand resting on a half eaten Powerbar.

  “What made you intervene?” asked April. “That was a big risk, and you don’t know me.”

  Lauren nodded toward the stroller. “Your boy. I have two children and I couldn’t bear the thought of what would happen if they were forced to witness the same. I guess I just saw red.”

  April stroked her child’s head, causing him to stir. “When I saw you coming in with that tire iron, I thought I was hallucinating. Couldn’t believe it. Nobody else would have gotten involved like that. They’re too afraid of those gangs.”

  “If I’d have lived there, maybe I would have too,” said Lauren thoughtfully. “I didn’t have so much to lose.”

  “You lost your bike.”

  “There is that. Mind you, if I’d have carried on my way, I’d be eating dog treats now, so maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

  “I owe you.”
r />   Lauren shifted uncomfortably. “Don’t think that. How’s your blisters?”

  April wiggled her bare feet. “Stinging like hell.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  April studied Lauren. “You’re worried that I’ll slow you down, aren’t you?”

  Lauren averted her gaze. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You don’t have to say it. It’s written all over your face. In your position, I’d be thinking the same. Hell, I’d have left already.”

  Lauren looked at her. “No, you wouldn’t.”

  April gave a resigned little shrug. “Easier to say than do, I guess. But we got us a real problem here. How far are you from home?”

  “I don’t know. Three hundred miles? Maybe more.”

  “Exactly. And I ain’t got no place I’ve got to be in a hurry. In fact, I got no place to go at all. Makes no difference to me whether I go fast or slow. But like I said, I owe you, so here’s the deal. I’ll keep up with you and help you out. It’s safer for two than one, right? As soon as you find some transport, you take it and you go.”

  “And what about you?”

  “I was thinking of getting away from the east coast and heading into the mountains.”

  “You ever been up there?”

  “No, but I’ve been watching prepper videos and they say that, when the shit hits the fan, you want to get out of urban areas. So that’s what I’ll do. Build myself a little cabin, do some fishing and live wild. I’ve been learning survival skills.”

  Lauren tried not to laugh.

  “What?” said April.

  “Nothing.”

  “You don’t think I can do it, do you? Black girl from the ghetto up in redneck country, fighting off the bears and hicks?”

  This time, Lauren did laugh. The mental image she conjured up kept her chuckling until she couldn’t stop. April looked aggrieved at first, then started to crack. In seconds they were both laughing.

  “I’m sorry,” said Lauren, wiping her eyes. “I didn’t mean to be rude, but I couldn’t help myself.”

  “You’re just so cruel,” said April, still giggling.

  Lauren took a breath. “I think it’s the tension. I needed to get it out.” The shadows deepened around them as darkness crept across the sky. “I killed someone today,” said Lauren suddenly.

  April sighed and gazed at her. “And it feels bad?”

  “I don’t know. I’m kind of thinking I should be feeling something, but... I don’t know.”

  April shook her head. “Girl, he was trying to kill you. And if you hadn’t shot him, we’d both be dead.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Suppose nothing. It’s true.”

  “I know. It’s just I don’t feel as bad as I think I should be. I’m kind of conflicted.”

  “Better that than a victim.”

  Lauren remained unsure. “Taking a life should be the hardest thing in the world. That’s what I’ve been taught. Even in the army they push you to prepare for it. Never thought it would actually be easy. Doesn’t seem right.”

  April leaned forward. “You’ve got too much time to think. That’s the real problem. I say we forget about it and get some sleep. Got a lot of miles to put behind us tomorrow.”

  Having sat still for so long, Lauren felt the night’s chill. She shivered. From the highway a voice called out. Seconds passed but there was no answering call. Lauren dropped her voice to a whisper. “We need to take turns keeping watch tonight.”

  Taking the pistols out of her pouch, she weighed them in her hands, deciding to keep the Beretta.

  “Are you familiar with firearms?” she asked.

  “No,” murmured April. “I ain’t really a ghetto girl.”

  “That’s okay. I’d be no good in the mountains, either. This is a Ruger SR9. It’s got a gazillion safety features so it should be okay for a novice.”

  April reached out her hand to take it, hesitated, then pulled her hand back. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. Maybe it’s better if you keep it.”

  “No. We need two pairs of eyes and two guns ready. Like you said, it’s safer for two than one. We look out for each other. Perhaps now’s not a good time, but in the morning I’ll teach you how to handle this.”

  “Now you’ve got me conflicted.”

  Lauren chuckled softly. “Okay, so we get to share the pain. If this is as bad as it gets, we’ll be fine.”

  25

  Walt murmured in his sleep. Rick checked his temperature and felt the heat rising off Walt’s brow before he even put his hand on it.

  After holing up till nightfall, they’d hoofed it through the darkness to avoid detection. Walt was in a state of near delirium, and Rick and Scott had taken turns holding him up as he walked. It wouldn’t be long before he was unable to walk at all. Kowalski lagged behind, increasingly tired, and Rick worried constantly about losing somebody in the dark. They maintained total silence and a deep gloom descended on the little group, unable to share their thoughts. As the stars wheeled slowly overhead, Rick felt his own reserves of energy drain away, and when Walt’s legs buckled completely, Rick called it a night, despondent. He took the first watch and sat cradling his rifle, his head nodding as the others breathed heavily in their sleep. Whenever Walt’s murmurings grew too loud, he’d nudge him, dragging him back from his deep slumber, hearing his breathing quicken. Feeling the sweat on Walt’s brow, he dripped some water into his open mouth to keep him hydrated. They were running low on the precious fluid. He had a squeeze-bag water filter with him, but streams were few and far between on the flatlands, and the creeks that ran through the cultivated areas were a magnet to the local population who had their own water needs.

  Rick ran logistical issues and strategies through his mind. He’d learned to do this even when tired, his brain ticking options off like a machine, but he was running into dead ends now. The noose was tightening around his squad, his solutions becoming less adequate. He’d been trained for all eventualities, but he’d become so used to having technology and the backup of the biggest military in the world that the narrowing of his options was becoming deeply frustrating. He’d lost three men and he was convinced he was going to lose another very soon, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Unable to express his anger externally, he internalized it as dark resentment, and he wondered then if this was how Josh felt.

  The sudden leap from his current predicament to his son’s state of mind startled him, like a piece of domesticity had just intruded on a tactical situation. His bleak rage deflated like a balloon, and icy depression seeped into him. The stark fact that he was never going to see his son again descended like a blanket on his shoulders, and suddenly all his worrying and planning seemed pointless.

  He wasn’t going to be able to tell him what he meant to him, nor explain why they’d drifted apart. He’d never be able to say out loud that he didn’t understand the reasons himself, but that he wasn’t happy with the kind of father he’d become.

  He hadn’t lived up to the kind of man his own father was.

  And it wasn’t just the absence. He’d lost the link. Not just to Josh but to Lizzy and Lauren too. The distance never mattered before, because he’d been able to connect with them and slot right into family life, but the past few years were different. He didn’t know whether it was the tempo of operations, his increased responsibilities or the fact he’d become jaded. His instinct knew something was wrong. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.

  Or maybe he was too afraid to admit it.

  If so, he was a fool, because he’d lost his chance to tell them how much he loved them. Or perhaps how much he should have loved them, if he’d been smart. The obligatory letter in his pack back at base was never going to be delivered now, even in the event of his demise. They were all stuck in this goddamn country, and the chances were he’d be buried in it.

  Or just left to rot. Like Flynn, Jamie and Leroy.

  The dying embers of his anger flared
up again and he plunged his thoughts into them, determined to forge new ideas to get them out of this.

  Scott stirred and woke. “Dude,” he said, “you should have woken me. It’s nearly dawn.”

  Rick looked up and saw the sky lightening from the east. He was in such a state of tension, he hadn’t noticed the passage of time. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said quietly, scratching his beard growth.

  “Get yourself some,” said Scott, sitting up.

  “No. We need to move soon.”

  “We need to do something about Walt.”

  Rick glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Scott cocked his head. “I was thinking we need to get him some transport. Why? What did you think I meant?”

  Rick retracted his claws. “Nothing.”

  “You thought I was going to suggest leaving him, didn’t you?”

  “Didn’t say that.”

  “I bet you were thinking it, though, getting all tetchy with me.”

  Rick rubbed his face. “I was just pissed, that’s all.”

  Scott looked out at the emerging horizon. “Yeah, we’ve got ourselves a situation here.”

  “Tell me about it. I’ve been trying to work out how we get out of this.”

  “Me too. Been feeling like a pin ball, bouncing from one mess to another.”

  A clang of metal rang out in the distance. Rick slipped off his safety catch, craning his neck to see what might have caused it, but a dirt berm blocked his view.

  “Maybe we should try entering a town,” mused Scott. “Steal a cart. Or maybe find a doctor. There’s got to be someone.”

  “That’s a shitty idea.”

  “Every idea’s a shitty idea. Our options range from small piles of crap to great steaming mounds of poop. Hold your nose and take your pick.”