Survival EMP Box Set | Books 1-4

by Lopez, Rob

  “I want to thank you for what you did out there. I’m grateful.”

  “Just doing my job.”

  “Takes an effort to do your job. I see no reason to take it for granted.”

  “I daresay there’s plenty who do. But don’t get too grateful. If the judge says you hang tomorrow, I’ll still escort you there myself.”

  Lauren sighed. “And when do I hang?”

  “I don’t know, and it’s not for me to say.”

  “Well … thanks anyway.”

  Eagleburger watched her a while longer.

  “What do you know about this Connors guy?” he said.

  Lauren wondered what he wanted to know. “He’s a corrupt son of a bitch and he’s taking you people for a ride.”

  “Yeah, I heard your speech.”

  “I meant every word of it.”

  “No doubt. Just wasn’t sure what you were hoping to gain by it.”

  Lauren wasn’t sure, either. “I guess if I’m going to go, I’d want people to know the truth.”

  “But you still shot that guy.”

  “Not in the way they said.”

  Eagleburger took off his hat and examined it. It had been crushed by the mob and was still out of shape. “Don’t suppose it matters now, but Connors was right about people needing to respect the law. You made it sound like he’s got a personal grudge against you, but he don’t seem too bothered with the hanging being postponed.”

  “The doctor told me he imposed martial law, so he’s got what he wants now.”

  The sheriff made another attempt to straighten his hat and put it back on. “Doctor’s wrong. That was the governor’s doing. He’s the guy in charge.”

  Lauren laughed mirthlessly. “And you believe that?”

  “I believe what I see. Never been one for conspiracies.”

  “What you’re seeing is Connors tightening his control. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Not really. I think you’re a little delusional and taking it personal. I don’t see much evidence that he’s got any particular interest in you.”

  “It’s not me he wants, it’s my husband.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been hearing tales about him. Supposed to be a real badass who’s going to come and attack the city, but I’ve seen no evidence of that, either. Sounds like a lot of hot air to me.”

  Lauren had to admit he was probably right. She’d harbored hopes that Rick would make it through to rescue her, but the lack of news worried her. Was he safe? Had she been written off?

  “All I know is that Connors is determined to get my husband,” she said.

  “Why?”

  Lauren thought about the hints Connors had dropped about her husband’s past.

  “I don’t know,” she sighed.

  *

  Rick arrived at Camp Grier just before nightfall. He’d left his children and the rest of the group at a mountain camp overlooking the cove. Camp Grier had changed somewhat since he’d last seen it. Giant red crosses had been painted on the buildings, and the place looked deserted.

  There weren’t even sentries out.

  Suspicious, Rick waited in the woods, observing the camp for an hour until the gloom set in. He reconnoitered the edge of the woods in a circular route around the camp, looking for signs of ambush, but found none. Eventually he stole into the camp and knocked discretely on the door of the main building.

  Sally opened the door, holding a lantern and a shotgun.

  “It’s me,” said Rick.

  “You’d better come in,” said Sally.

  Rick followed her into the dorm, seeing all the empty bunks. “Where is everybody?” he asked.

  “Harvey’s in the other building with the typhus patients. Most everybody else are up in the shacks over Old Fort again.”

  “Why the hell did they leave you?”

  “I told them to go. I don’t want another battle here if the militia come.”

  Rick grunted. “Where’s Scott?”

  “He’s in the back room. You can see him, but he’s very weak. Don’t stress him.”

  Rick entered the room. April sat at the bedside with a book. When she saw Rick she gasped and rose to hug him. Daniel sat in a chair, knees up to his chin, mutely watching. Scott lay on the bed, half asleep and his face slick with sweat. Rick sat down by the bed, noting the sticky honey that oozed out from under the wound dressing.

  “How are you doing?” he said.

  “Swell,” croaked Scott.

  April brought a bowl of water and wrung out a cloth to wipe Scott’s face and chest.

  Scott reacted with a sigh at the touch of the cold cloth. “Is Lauren okay?” he said.

  “Connors still has her.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “You need to rest. That’s the plan.”

  “It’s getting boring here,” said Scott. “April reads to me. I’m getting more cultured by the second. But I need to be doing something.”

  Rick noted the Glock on the nightstand, next to a copy of Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier.

  “Boredom’s good,” said Rick. “You don’t need stress now.”

  “I offered to sing for him,” said April with a smile, “but I think that would stress him more.”

  Rick gave her a sympathetic look. “You holding up okay?” he said to her.

  “I’m fine. Are Josh and Lizzy with you? Because they just disappeared.”

  “They’re with me. They’re okay.”

  “Have you managed to see Lauren at all?”

  Rick recalled the distant vision of his wife being half-dragged into the courthouse by Fick. “No,” he said. He got up. “Don’t read that to the end,” he added, nodding toward the book. As he turned to leave, Scott called out to him.

  “Rick.”

  “What?”

  “What is it with you and Connors?”

  “You know I never got along with him.”

  “You never got along with most officers, but this is different. Something happened between you two, and you ain’t never told me.”

  Rick paused, grappling with a possible answer.

  “Spit it out,” said Scott.

  “It’s not important,” said Rick.

  “Sure it is.”

  Rick frowned, not liking to be put on the spot. “Do you remember Martinez?”

  “Yeah, man. That was tragic.”

  “It wasn’t an accident.”

  Scott gazed at him for a moment. “Connors?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You sure? I mean, absolutely?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Fick? The others?”

  “Them too.”

  “You’re absolutely certain?”

  “Martinez told me something before he died. And I did my own investigating.”

  Scott sagged back in the bed. “Son of a bitch. Why didn’t you report it?”

  “No evidence that could stand up in court. But I know he did it.”

  “Ain’t like you to let that lie.”

  “I didn’t. Connors had his contacts, but I had mine. Wasn’t enough, maybe, but I managed to cut him down some.”

  Scott took a moment to think about it, then chuckled, coughing a little. “So you’re the reason he never made colonel. Man, I bet he hates you worse than poison.”

  “I hope so.”

  Scott gave him a look. “That’s pretty explosive.”

  “It is.”

  Scott sighed like he was taking his last breath. “You take care, buddy.”

  “And you.”

  Rick left and closed the door behind him. He stared at the floor. Sally sat at the table in the middle of the dorm.

  “How long do you give him?” murmured Rick quietly.

  “I don’t,” said Sally. “It could be days. Maybe a week.”

  “Does he know?”

  “I think he does. I took the bullet out, but he’s got a fever now, so the infection’s taken hold.”

  “I saw what you tried with the honey.”
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  “It was a long shot. It’s reduced the infection around the wound, but it’s in his system now. He needs antibiotics.”

  Rick nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Not happy with him being here, though. Eventually, Connors’ militia will come through here, and that won’t end well if they find him. We need to get him out of here.”

  “He’s not well enough to be moved. Certainly not to those shacks on the hill. He won’t last a day there. It’s better that he stays. I know where to hide him.”

  “You sure? Him being here endangers you more.”

  “We’ll be fine. Just get me those antibiotics.”

  “I can’t guarantee nothing. In fact, I could probably use Packy’s help now. Where is he?”

  “He’s gone. Took off earlier with Dee.”

  “Dee?”

  “Yeah, the two are kind of together now.”

  Rick remembered Lauren’s prediction about the two of them. It just seemed so unlikely, however.

  “Did they say where they were going?”

  “No. He just said he had a great idea.”

  8

  The morning air retained the night’s chill, but the rising sun reflecting off the I-40’s pavement warmed Packy and Dee as they pushed the stroller between the abandoned vehicles and up the long incline, past the town of Marion.

  “It’s a great day to be free,” said Packy, opening his arms to the sun. “Isn’t it?”

  Dee ignored him, taking over the stroller and pushing by herself.

  “Here, let me do that,” said Packy.

  Dee maintained her hold on the stroller. “He’s my baby,” she said.

  Packy stepped aside. “Okay, fine,” he said. “Just offering my assistance as a gentleman. I don’t think Jack will mind.”

  “It’s Jacob.”

  “Tomatoes, tomatoes. Anyway, once we get a set of wheels, you won’t have to push him anywhere. I’ll have a talk with Lou, and you’ll get to ride in style.”

  “Lou doesn’t like you.”

  “That’s an exaggeration. He just likes to play hardball. It’s a negotiating tactic. Everybody does it.”

  “Nobody likes you. Bonnie told me.”

  “Jeez, rub salt in it, why don’t you?”

  “It’s better if you let me talk to him.”

  Affronted, Packy halted. “Lady, I don’t need to be liked to do business. They might not like me, but they like my stuff.”

  Dee stopped the stroller and scrutinized Packy. “So you know already,” she said. “How do you cope when you understand people feel that way about you?”

  Packy was surprised by the line of questioning. “I like me,” he stated boldly. “Maybe others are kinda slow to appreciate that, but I’m nobody’s dog. If they don’t like, I ride. I feel sorry for people who always have to judge or hate, but that’s their choice, and what I do is mine. I don’t mind. It’s a big world, and I’m an open book. Take it or leave it.”

  Dee pondered his words. “When we get to Lou, let me do the talking,” she said.

  They toiled up the slope until they reached the bridge, where two guards were waiting.

  “Hold it right there,” they shouted. “State your business.”

  “Come on, guys,” said Packy. “You know who I am.”

  “Put your weapon down.”

  With a frown, Packy laid his shotgun on the ground. “Can we get this over with?”

  Covered by the guns from the bridge, a third guard came down the ramp, took the shotgun and led Packy and Dee to Lou’s building-supplies compound.

  Lou was stripped to the waist, chopping wood. Seeing the newcomers, he lowered his axe, wiped his brow and whistled sharply. On the other side of the chain-link fence, Farah looked up from the seedlings she was planting. Getting up and dusting her hands off, she came around to the entrance.

  “What do you want?” she said, interpreting Lou’s brusque hand gestures.

  Dee glanced once at Packy to make sure he stayed silent. “We’ve come to ask for your help,” she said.

  Lou studied them both for a moment. “You’d better take a seat,” he signed, gesturing to the chairs by the desk under the canopy.

  While Packy and Dee sat down, he washed his hands in a bucket of water and put a shirt on. Glancing suspiciously at Packy, who was nonchalantly looking around at the materials in the compound, Lou took a seat opposite. Farah took her place next to him while the guard stood watch.

  “You’d better not be wasting my time,” signed Lou. “We’ve already had a couple of your people look for refuge here, so I know about the trouble you’ve had, but as I’ve explained before, we’re not in a position to help.”

  “Rick’s friend has been badly wounded,” explained Dee. “We need antibiotics.”

  “Got none here. I’m sorry to hear about your friend, but you made a wasted journey.”

  Packy looked eager to say something, but Dee continued. “Then we need your vehicle. I believe you were given a car as a token of good faith by Rick. We want to use it to find the medicines we need.”

  “It’s not available,” signed Lou, staring straight at Dee.

  Dee held his gaze. “Rick’s wife has been kidnapped. His best friend is dying. You know Rick would have helped you if you were in need. The militia that destroyed our community will come for you next. You won’t be able to stop them. You won’t know how. You’re not a soldier. Rick is. My fiancee served with him before he died. He said Rick was the best leader he had ever served under. You will want his help in the future. So help us now.”

  Lou’s jaw tightened. “What makes you think you can expletive come here and make demands on us?”

  “I’m not here to be liked,” stated Dee. “Take it or leave it.”

  “Whoa, whoa,” said Packy. “Nice reply, by the way,” he added to Dee. “Now, let’s just calm down. Okay, it’s obvious we didn’t just come here to demand you give us a car — and it is the Road Runner we’re talking about, of course — I mean, it is obvious, right? We come in peace and all that. And a factory-orange 72 Road Runner coupe is a sweet ride. I picked that one myself. The question is — and isn’t it always? — what are you prepared to take for it?”

  Jacob, having slept through the entire interlocution, woke at that point, looking around in a bewildered way. Packy unclipped him and lifted him from the stroller, bouncing him on his knee.

  “The point is,” continued Packy, “I have a deal for you. Now, the stuff you’ve been hearing about this new militia — it’s all true. I was there when they kicked our asses. So you’re probably asking yourself — do you have enough firepower? My guess is that you don’t. And since I’ve never heard anybody complain about having too much firepower, I figure you can use some more. Which is why I’m going to open up my secret stash to you.”

  Dee took Jacob off Packy to feed him. Lou and Farah stared at both of them, wondering who was the most unhinged.

  “And what’s in your stash?” signed Lou impatiently.

  “Guns. Ammunition. And a ton of accessories.”

  “What kind of guns?”

  “The shooting kind.”

  “Don’t get funny with me.”

  “It’s kind of a mixed bag. I’ve given the best ones away already. But I still have 3000 rounds of ammunition. I’ve also been taking a look at some of the rifles you guys have, and I notice you don’t have a lot of scopes. I have a lot of scopes. And high-capacity mags. And bipods. And it’s all yours in return for the Road Runner.”

  Lou looked doubtful. “And I take it you need the car to get to your stash in the first place.”

  “Sure.”

  “So you want me to give you the car in return for a pledge?”

  “You got it.”

  “You think I’m an idiot, don’t you?”

  “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

  Lou glared at him.

  “You’ve got no reason to doubt me,” added Packy reasonably. “I’ve traded with you guys, and I always kept
my word. Everyone was happy. But this isn’t about me. Or even you. There’s a guy whose life is on the line. This is a mission of mercy. And a little risky. So I need something fast and reliable.”

  “You’re a putz,” said Farah.

  “Did he say that?” asked Packy, looking at Lou’s motionless hands.

  “No, I did.”

  “That’s uncalled for. Jeez, I’m offering you a straight trade that’s a good deal. Dee here has visited you plenty of times to comfort the two women who were kidnapped — women rescued by our group, I should add. But you’re giving us a hard time. Over what? What is it we’ve done? People risked their lives to rescue those women. In fact, it was Rick and Scott who entered the building and pretty much killed everyone inside to get to those women, and it’s Scott who’s now dying and needs your help. But what the hell, you carry on being suspicious for no good reason.”

  Lou studied Packy for a while. “Where do you plan on finding those antibiotics you need?” he signed.

  “There’s a couple of places I want to try,” said Packy vaguely.

  “Where?”

  “Somewhere in Charlotte.”

  “The roads to Charlotte are blocked now. There’s nowhere safe, east of here.”

  “I bet you I can get through.”

  “And getting back?”

  “I don’t aim to go if I can’t get back.”

  *

  Packy ran his hand lovingly over the Road Runner’s paintwork, then held his hand up to show the accumulated dirt. “You could have washed it,” he said.

  Joe, the mechanic Lou had assigned to the car, replied, “You think we can afford to waste water on that?”

  Packy dragged his finger along a scratch on the rounded fuselage-styled fender. “Sure. This is an icon. This is, like, speed for the working man. You got any compound I could use to rub this out?”

  “If you’re taking this east, you’ll get more than a few scratches. Try bullet holes for size.”

  Packy popped the hood to take a look at the 440 six-barrel V8. He noticed that the starter motor was cleaner than the rest of the bay.

  “Did you put a new starter in this?”