He discreetly raced up to them as they turned, “Look, maybe I can talk Cecil into letting you guys stay on—”
“No, it’s no use,” Andy said, angry eyes trained on the captain. “It’s not your fault he can be so pig-headed.”
“Besides,” Gary added, “There’s a barn down the road we can probably crash at safely. Not a sure thing, but it’s worth a try.”
“But what will you eat?”
Gary gave him a peek inside his backpack at some things wrapped in aluminum foil. “Don’t worry. We got some food and other goodies that’ll hold us for a while. If you like, we can save a little for you and your family when you join us.”
“Well, I was hoping we could convince Cecil to—”
Andy gave his head a violent shake. “No way. Knowing him, he’ll find a way to get all the help he can get out of your wife and still leave you and your family out in the cold. That’s just the way he rolls.”
“Doesn’t seem like a bad guy to me,” Hatfield said.
“He isn’t most of the time,” Grace said, softer than her friends. “He’s dependable and always a guy you can rely on.”
Andy added, “That’s his problem. You can always rely on him to follow every rule every time. Break one and you're gone.”
He took one final look then shook each of their hands. “Well, in spite of everything, our family appreciates you and the help you gave us. Good luck.”
“You too,” they answered in unison. Andy’s eyes were still sending daggers at Cecil as they walked away.
14
From a block away, the hospital looked like an ancient ruin. No lights, no movement. Just a giant, lifeless, dilapidated building. Nothing changed as they drove closer. With Hatfield at the wheel, Jess in the passenger seat, and Cecil sharing the back seat with a young homesteader, the car came to a stop.
“Looks like your hunch was correct,” Cecil said. “It appears not to be open.”
Hatfield said, “Maybe we should take a closer look.”
“Let’s go.”
The four of them exited the car and raced up the steps. The front door was open, hanging there and nearly torn from its hinges. Gazing inside, they saw only more darkness and heard nothing at all.
“What’s this?” Jess asked.
A sign scribbled in pen on the door caught her attention.
She read it. “Due to security concerns, St. Joseph’s Hospital has decided to suspend operations. Any emergencies should be handled at home.” She shook her head in sadness, eyes watering.
“Looks like the place has been ransacked,” the homesteader called from inside.
Cecil took out a flashlight and led the way with it. Each step they took was more dispiriting than the last. Boxes of pills were strewn all over the floor. Equipment smashed.
Jess picked through the wreckage. “Feels awful just to take things.”
Cecil said, “Understandably. But I don’t imagine anyone will be coming back for anything.”
Jess said, “These look like—”
Not far away, a crash rang out, metallic and loud. Jess leaped into her husband’s arms.
“Guys, I don’t think it’s a good idea to be in here unarmed,” he said.
“Agreed,” the captain said. “Let’s get gone.”
They scrambled down the hallway and out of the building.
After settling into the Hummer, they caught their breath as Hatfield started it up and took off.
“Next time, we’ll bring everybody we can spare—armed,” Cecil said. “We didn’t count on having company.” And when the young homesteader coughed a few times, he leaned forward and addressed the couple. “Mrs. Hatfield, it seems we could very much use having your services at the compound. On behalf of all of us, I cordially invite you and your family to stay. I deeply apologize for waiting so long to reach this realization.”
“Apology accepted and invitation accepted.”
“Thank you. As for you, Mr. Hatfield, I have a question: are you handy with a rifle?”
“Handy enough.”
“That’s it, sir! You’re getting better,” the guy said to his boss.
Nathan put down his rifle and gazed at the target. “Look at that! I almost got a bullseye once.”
“Yeah, nice shooting.”
The leader sprang out of his crouch and walked toward the target, eager to gaze at his handiwork. “Look at that! One close to a bullseye, and I didn’t miss the target, not once!”
Zan was shaping up as a nice second-in-command. He’d connected with the gang after breaking free from prison during the riot. Nathan didn’t ask what he was in for, but he got the feeling it wasn’t for parking tickets. He had a lean, scarred face, tattoos everyplace one would fit, and a frighteningly muscular body. He also knew how to take orders without thinking he was partly in charge.
“Zan, I have to give you props, buddy. Taking this barn was a good idea of yours.” He turned and took a good look at the huge structure, laughing at all the horseplay taking place inside as the guys got a chance to take a much-needed break.
“Well, boss, seemed like a good place to chill. Enough room for everybody. How long you figure we’ll stay here?”
“Not long. Sooner or later, we’ll need a bigger place if we want to—”
The second-in-command gestured for quiet, then slowly pointed at the bushes at the side of the door. He then drew his gun. Without knowing why, Nathan scooped his rifle off the ground, trained it on the bushes.
“Come on out, whoever ever you are!” Zan called.
Three heads popped out of the shrubs, faces Nathan didn’t recognize. They weren’t part of the gang, too innocent for that. Two guys—one redhead, the other a brunette—and a woman. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“We’re really sorry!” the woman cried. “We didn’t realize this was your barn!”
A smile eased onto the leader’s face. “Zan, call everybody over! Tell them to stop whatever they’re up to and get here now!”
“Yes, sir!” He shouted into the barn and gathered everybody.
Nathan took slow steps closer to the trio. They said nothing, but the fear on their faces told him this was a chance to have some fun.
Within minutes, the gang had gathered. They were perhaps as many as a hundred strong now. Larger and stronger than before—and also scarier. Nathan gestured for them to take a seat. “Looks like we found a few bandits, guys.”
“We weren’t stealing anything, I swear!” one of them called.
“Shut up!” Nathan answered. He turned to the guys. “Anybody with any idea on how we should handle them?”
A slow chuckle emerged, building gradually into full-on hoots and hollers. He cocked his rifle but stopped when he noticed the eyes of his audience seemed to be glossing over and past him. He turned and saw somebody racing toward them. It was Kyle, carrying a big bag.
“Got this from the hospital!” he announced, breathlessly placing it on the ground.
Nathan took a look—food, medical supplies, battery-operated gadgets. “Nice.”
Kyle went on. “A group of people came into the hospital. They came out of this big Hummer. I think they’re from that compound down the road I told you about.”
Nathan’s eyes sparked to life. “Really? You know that for sure?”
He shook his head. “Well, pretty much. I’ve seen the Hummer there, and one of the guys looked like somebody we’ve seen coming out of that place.”
“We’ll deal with all that later. But for now, we need to figure what to do with our friends here.” He lifted his rifle at the three visitors once again. He turned back to the guys. “Fellas! Which one would you dies first?”
They shouted a variety of answers—some demanded the redhead’s death, others the woman. Or the brunette. He stooped, looked each of them in the eyes. “I think we’ll let the woman live for a while longer.” Seeing her face bubble into horror like that brought joy to his heart. “There’s some fun we m
ight want to have with her before she goes!”
A round of elated applause rose from the men.
Nathan poked the redhead in the chest with his rifle. “You, ginger! On your feet!” He shoved him against the wall of the barn, then slowly stepped back, raising his rifle.
“Wait!” the kid yelled. “We can help you!” he shouted, his voice a terrified shriek. Everybody fell silent.
“Help?” Nathan asked. “What are you talking about?”
“You want to get that compound, right?” the redhead asked.
“Yeah. What do you know about that?”
“We came from that place,” he said. “The three of us. We used to live there.”
He had the leader’s attention. “Keep talking. How can you help us take it?”
“Open our backpacks. Everything you need is in there. We know that place inside and out, I swear!”
Nathan grabbed their backpacks and tossed them over to Zan. “Open these up; see what’s inside.”
The dark-haired one added, “We can help you plan whatever you need.”
He stooped to gaze into the woman’s eyes. “You seem awfully quiet, snowflake. What can you add to the conversation?” She frantically wiped away tears. “Whatever you want, we can help you.”
He stepped away, studied their faces. “And your willing to betray your former housemates. Why?”
The redhead answered. “We were kicked out. We don’t have any loyalty.”
Zan stepped to his ear, quietly said, “A place like that could be nice. I get the feeling it’s well-stocked inside there. Plenty of food, heating, air-conditioning.” He held up some articles from the backpack. It had pictures of the compound’s inside.
Impressed, Nathan whistled. “Nice.” He turned back to the guys. “Sorry, fellas. No execution tonight.”
As they unloaded and headed back to the barn, he turned back to the three visitors. “Okay, talk to me. What can you tell me about this compound, and how can we take it?”
15
Fueled by urgency, Hatfield and the others sprinted into the compound. Cecil said, “I’m gonna get everybody up and in gear. Then we’ll have a quick rundown of how we will proceed once inside the hospital. It should only take a good five, maybe ten minutes. You and your family can hang out in the den till we’re ready. Then we’ll need you, Hatfield, if you’re sure you want to join us.”
“Like it or not, you got me, Captain.”
Hatfield and Jess went into the den, dragging the reluctant kids. Justin and Tami—especially Justin—wanted to peek into the hallway when they saw Cecil barrel inside a large dorm room lined with ten, maybe fifteen beds. “Come on, guys! Our business is in here.”
The den was a large room with a fireplace, a pool table, and a ping-pong table. A black vinyl couch lined the back wall, with a coffee table before it holding a pile of books, magazines, and board games. The ringing of an ear-splitting bell caught their attention.
Justin whined, “Man, no fair! How come I can’t be in their army?”
With a laugh and a head shake, Hatfield answered, “Unless you can talk them into lowering the age of their draft to twelve, you’re a little too young.”
As Tami fumbled through the magazines, sneering her nose at those related to sports and hunting, she found a few novels that caught her eye, then curled into a spot on the couch.
“Tami, I’m not sure they want us messing with that,” Jess said.
Something snagged her dad’s attention. He opened a box and found several old snapshots on top of a stack of papers. After flipping through a few, mostly finding young faces of homesteaders he’d briefly met, he saw a face that caused his face go slack. The pictures fell from his hand, landing in a mess on the coffee table.
His family looked up at him, puzzled. “What’s wrong?” Jess asked.
“Nothing’s wrong at all,” he mumbled, barely able to push the words from his mouth.
He then lifted a picture of five guys. A younger Cecil was one of them, his belly smaller, his beard black. He didn’t recognize three of the guys, but he couldn’t stop staring at the middle-aged guy in military fatigues as he sent a stern look into the camera.
“Who is that?” Justin asked.
Hatfield cleared his throat, then said. “Justin, Tami, Jess. That’s my father.”
Jess grinned, stroking her husband’s arm.
“Cool!” Justin yelled.
His wife pulled closer, spoke softly. “Handsome man. Kind of reminds me of somebody.”
Tami asked, “How come you never showed us a picture of him before?”
He shrugged. “I never had any. When I left home, I didn’t bring any pictures with me. After all those years, my memory of what he and my mother looked like was kind of fuzzy.”
Easing back onto the couch, he picked up the stack of papers. There was a series of written tutorials. Some of the titles made Hatfield grin. They reminded him of his father’s wish list. All the stuff he had talked about constructing but never had enough money or time for, such as installing an iron stove and adding a filtration system.
He thumbed through the articles, recognizing the words' sharp, unyielding cadence as the way his father talked. By the time he’d reached the end of the tutorial on infrared installation, a smile had landed on his face. It concluded with words heard from the sergeant hundreds of times. Remember guys, if a job’s worth doing…
Hatfield spoke the words out loud. “… it’s worth doing right.”
The den’s door swung open. A young homesteader stuck his head in. “You’re needed, Mr. Hatfield.”
He kissed his wife, hugged his kids, and headed out.
“Go get ‘em, Dad!”
As the others lined up and waited at the back door, Cecil pulled Hatfield aside. “Here’s how we’re going to take care of things. We will take two, maybe three trips there in the Hummer, taking just about all the men we have with us. That means I’m going to need you on car duty.”
“Sure, whatever you want me for, I’m ready.”
“Now, am I correct in understanding that you do not have a military background, son?”
Hatfield hesitated. “Well, that’s true… but I’ve handled several guns at the range—mostly pistols and 45s, but I dealt with a few rifles, including an M-16 a couple of times and—”
Cecil stopped him with a hand. “Okay, well, I can respect that. So what I need you to do for us…” he reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a holstered pistol, and handed it over, “is hang in the rear and hold down a strong backup in case somebody gets past the front line. Can you manage that?”
“I’m sure I can.” That felt like a demotion to Hatfield. But he swallowed his disappointment and tucked the holster away.
“Fantastic. Now, as I said, to the other fellas, if all goes well, there will be no need for combat. Hell, if our timing is good, we won’t need to fire a single shot. It may just be a matter of maintaining a strong presence to frighten away any troublemakers.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“But if the need for combat emerges, I’m going to have to insist you stay to the role I assigned you. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir, it is.”
“Great, let’s go take care of business.”
The earliest part of the plan worked without flaw. Hatfield drove the first group there, then headed back to the compound as the early arrivals set up formation at the hospital’s front door. The second time through went the same way. By the time he headed back to the compound to pick up the final group, the precision had begun to make the whole thing a little boring after all the build-up in his mind.
Waiting in the Hummer as the last group of five guys left the house, Hatfield heard a murmur build behind him. He turned and saw nothing. But as the guys slipped inside, his antenna remained up. He didn’t move for several seconds.
“Mr. Hatfield, shouldn’t we be on our way by now?”
“Shh!” he demanded.
A loud crash
at the compound followed, bringing everyone in the car to alert.
From the moment the Hummer pulled up outside, Nathan had a smile on his face that he couldn’t chisel away. He had a feeling his plan would work out masterfully.
Zan was the first to notice the Hummer. He tapped his boss on the shoulder, and they all got into position. They crouched in hidden corners and squatted behind equipment, waiting in the dark shadows to strike.
They were all armed and prepared. And they had the homesteaders outnumbered. Best of all, they had the information given to them by those three who had fled from the compound. Thanks to those outcasts, they had a basic sense of how the operation was run. Nathan could barely contain his laughter as he saw those camouflaged ducks fly right into their rifle scopes. It was going to be fun.
He also relished the knowledge that these pathetic paramilitary dudes would get an even bigger surprise when they returned to the compound. That was where the real fire was about to be ignited.
16
Seconds after the loud crash at the compound, everybody in the Hummer had sprung outside and crouched into defensive positions. Hatfield crouched behind the open door of the Hummer’s driver’s side, his pistol trained—but on what?
Without leadership, it wasn’t clear what the next move would be. It wasn’t even obvious what they were shooting for. Somebody needed to step up and take charge. They all waited, motionless.
Hatfield gasped to himself, recalling who was inside the place. “My family!”
A voice came from the front porch, amplified by the same source that greeted the Hatfields when they first arrived. But this message was very different: “We’ve got your place, man! It’s ours now! Try to come closer and you’ll regret it!”
No movement from the homesteaders. No words, either.
“Don’t believe me?” the voice asked.
Seconds later, a greasy, tattooed thug emerged holding Tami by the neck, yanking her body out the door and into full view against her efforts at pulling herself free. Another thug came out the door, this one with Justin in his grip. Both kids fought back hard, hair and limbs flailing. Biting, scratching, kicking to be free. But against these muscled-up monsters, there was nowhere to run.
How We Survive: EMP Survival in a Powerless World Page 9