Fighting Rough

by Ryan Westfield

  Fighting Rough

  A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller - The EMP Book 5

  Ryan Westfield

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  About Ryan Westfield

  Copyright © 2018 by Ryan Westfield

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Any resemblance to real persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters and events are products of the author’s imagination.

  Stock image for cover provided by Neo Stock.

  1

  Max

  James had been hunting for mushrooms on his own yesterday. He’d become the resident mushroom expert.

  The rest of them, Max included, had been back at camp when James had come sprinting back, urgency on his face. He’d been so out of breath that he’d been unable to speak at first.

  They’d all seen on his face that something was wrong. Very wrong.

  “There’s someone here,” he’d finally said. “Someone from the compound. Less than a mile away.”

  “The compound?” Max had said. “Are you sure?”

  James had nodded vigorously.

  “How do you know?”

  “I recognized him. He was in the dining hall with us when we were there.”

  “How can you be sure, though?” said Jake.

  “He’s got a good memory for faces,” said Sadie.

  “I would have just shot him,” said James. “But if there was someone else, I would have just drawn attention to us.”

  “You did the right thing.”

  It had been a blow to everyone. For the last week, they’d enjoyed an unusual sense of calm at their makeshift camp set up near Jake and Rose’s parked van. No one else knew they were there. They wanted to keep it that way.

  It had been close to sundown, and they’d decided it’d be best to set out to investigate the following day. They’d doubled the watch, put out the fire, and suffered through the cold night.

  No one had slept much, and when the morning had come, they were all tired and weak from lack of sleep.

  “Thanks,” said Max, accepting the mug of coffee that Rose handed him.

  He held the hot mug and took a sip of the strong, bitter coffee. It filled him with some much-needed warmth.

  It was unusually cold. Winter had come early, and the air temperature was below freezing. Their water had frozen overnight.

  “Looks like it might snow,” said John, looking up to the grey clouds that stretched across the entire sky.

  “Let’s hope not,” said Max. “We don’t need any more problems. Although…”

  “What is it?”

  “If there’s someone snooping around our area, snowfall could be a huge help.”

  “You’re talking about the tracks?”

  “Yeah, we’ll be able to see easily enough if someone’s been here.”

  John nodded thoughtfully as he chewed his venison. Venison was practically their only food, aside from the mushrooms James hunted.

  Their group was bigger than it had been. John and Cynthia, and Jake and Rose had joined their group less than a week ago. They’d all pooled their food together. But there really hadn’t been much. John had explained how they’d had to ditch most of their food when on the run from the militia scouts.

  There’d been some food at the pot farmers tent. They’d had a stockpile of canned foods, along with long-lasting foods like rice and beans. But they’d all agreed that the best thing to do was save the shelf-stable items until they really needed it. If at some point in the future they couldn’t get venison, they’d be glad they’d saved the food. For now, the deer were plentiful. They’d shot two over the last week.

  Max finished his portion of venison, drained the last of his coffee, and nodded to Mandy. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get moving.”

  “Almost ready,” said Mandy, not even glancing up. She was checking her rifle.

  They finally had ammunition for their rifles. Not a lot. But some. The pot farmers had been fairly well armed. They’d even had ammunition for guns they didn’t have with them.

  “You sure you don’t want me to come?” said John.

  Max shook his head. “Better to have you here.”

  John nodded.

  “Ready,” said Mandy, shouldering her rifle.

  She and Max set off, heading north, into the woods. They walked in silence for the first ten minutes.

  The air seemed to be getting colder. Max had on his jacket, but it was far from being a winter jacket. At least they were moving. That was the best way to stay warm.

  When the cold was really bad was at night. Especially without the fire. They had some sleeping bags and blankets. But not enough.

  The group’s gear was really a hodgepodge. Bits and pieces. Nothing was complete. The things John and Cynthia had brought had been scavenged from various other peoples’ gear, and then they’d had to abandon half of it.

  The things taken from the pot farmers had been useful, but obviously the pot farmers hadn’t been preparing for an event like this. They were just expecting to be out in the woods for a month or so, with regular trips into town, judging from what they’d had with them.

  Jake and Rose were a whole different situation altogether. They’d had some invaluable things, like the radio. Not to mention a working van. And some treats, like plenty of coffee. But they had no guns, no knives. Nothing but basic camping gear.

  A larger group had plenty of advantages. And a lot more problems.

  More mouths to feed, more people to worry about.

  Max walked along, lost in his own thoughts, his eyes scanning the cold forest.

  Finally, Mandy spoke.

  “Aren’t you happy to see your brother again?”

  “Of course,” said Max. “Why?”

  Frankly, the question puzzled him.

  “You haven’t seemed happy since he got here. And you hardly talk to him. He clearly wants to talk to you.”

  Max shrugged. “We’re trying to survive,” he said. “There’s no time for happiness. We’re either alive or we’re not.”

  “But you know what I mean. He’s your brother. I hardly hear you two talking. Was that how your family was or something?”

  “I’m not going to get into my whole family history,” said Max. “It’s not important. Not now. Keep your eyes open for anything unusual.”

  “Nothing so far,” said Mandy. “I just don’t get the thing between you and John.”

  Max sighed. “Fine,” he said. “You really want my thoughts on it?”

  Mandy nodded. “It’s like prying nails sometimes with you. Go ahead. Please.”

  “We weren’t that close,” said Max. “I’m happy he’s alive, ob
viously. He’s very different now than he was. The EMP changed him. Probably for the better. I think he can be a big help to us.”

  “Real deep,” muttered Mandy.

  Max shrugged and looked to the sky. A single snowflake fell onto his nose.

  “Snow,” said Max. “I guess John was right.”

  “I hate the snow,” muttered Mandy. “Makes me thinks of having to shovel out my car. And dealing with traffic.”

  “Well, that’s not going to be a problem. Although the roads could get bad without anybody plowing. Depends how much it snows.”

  “Hopefully it doesn’t come to having to deal with that. I’m liking having a camp, a home base. Rather than being on the move.”

  “Me too,” said Max. “But it doesn’t really matter what we like.”

  “Yeah,” said Mandy, finishing his thought for him. “It’s about what keeps us alive. You’ve told us all countless times.”

  Over the next hour, they traveled in a large arc around the campsite. There were no signs of anyone. The snow continued to fall. It was picking up, and showed no signs of slowing down. Soon, there was a light covering of snow on the ground.

  “We’re making tracks,” said Max, pointing down to their footprints.

  “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

  “Could be both.”

  “We never talked about what we’re going to do if we find someone out here,” said Mandy. “Are we just going to shoot them dead? After all, we can’t let the compound know we’re here. I’m not hesitating this time. I’m not going to let that stuff get to me again. My trigger finger’s ready. No hesitation.”

  She was talking rapidly, as if she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince Max.

  “Don’t go trigger happy. We need information,” said Max. “As they say, dead men can’t talk.”

  “Information? You mean if they know we’re here or not.”

  “Exactly.”

  They were both covered with a light dusting of snow that slowly grew as they walked.

  “The forest seems so peaceful with the snow,” remarked Mandy.

  “It’s not going to take much to change that…”

  Suddenly, Mandy put her hand up.

  Max fell silent.

  Mandy stopped in her tracks, slightly ahead of Max.

  She was peering off to the east. Max didn’t see anything, so he put his binoculars to his eyes and adjusted them as he scanned the snow-covered trees.

  “I saw movement,” whispered Mandy.

  “I’m not seeing anything,” said Max.

  He put the binoculars down. Mandy had her rifle’s scope to her eye.

  “I’m not either now,” said Mandy. “Maybe it was just an animal.”

  “There are plenty of places to hide,” said Max. “If there’s someone out there, they had every chance to see us if you saw them.”

  “What do we do?”

  “We wait.”

  “You think there’s someone out there, just staying still, behind a tree or something?”

  “Exactly.”

  “What if it was just an animal?”

  “We can’t take the risk. I’ll use the binoculars. Don’t use your scope for now. Keep your eyes over there, but I need you looking around too. There’s a chance they snuck off and will come at us from another side.”

  The minutes passed, and there was no more movement. The snow continued to fall, and the temperature was dropping further.

  Max checked his watch, and hoped that those back at camp were keeping a good watch.

  2

  Josh

  The snow was falling heavily now, and Josh shivered in the cold. He had on a large white parka, as well as a heavy Russian-style hat, and good, heavy boots. He was even wearing a merino wool sweater. It should have been enough to keep him warm. But he hadn’t eaten enough. His metabolism had slowed down, and his body wasn’t generating much heat.

  They’d seen him. There were two of them. A man and a woman. Both were armed. He hadn’t gotten a look at their faces. Was it Max? Someone else?

  Josh had his back flat against the tree trunk. The trunk was cold, and seemed to sap more heat from his body.

  Surely they had at least one rifle trained on his position.

  If he moved away from the tree, he’d be shot.

  Josh clutched his own rifle, holding it tightly with his stiff hands. One piece of important gear he was missing were gloves thin enough that he could operate a gun.

  Josh tried to keep his mind on the task at hand. But there was nothing to do. The only way to stay alive was not to move. And not to make any noise.

  His mind started to wander as he remembered the events that had led up to him being out there, alone in the snowy woods, possibly about to die.

  Josh was one of the few at the compound who hadn’t had an interest in disaster preparedness before the EMP. But his best friend had always been talking about it, and, at the time, Josh had been unemployed. He’d joined mostly because he’d needed something to do with his time. He’d never seriously thought that an event like the EMP would happen.

  Now Dan was dead. Along with Kara. And a handful of others. And that didn’t even include the ones Max and his gang had killed.

  The atmosphere in the compound had changed drastically. And rapidly. They’d been a fairly amiable group of guys at first.

  Now, there was a thread of viciousness that ran through them all. They wanted revenge. They wanted someone to pay for their dead. They’d all lost friends, people they’d lived with and worked with.

  The founding members of the compound had, with the exception of Josh, generally believed that they were planning the rest of their lives. Before the EMP, the compound had been a sort of fantasy that they fully expected to actually play out. But it had been more of a fantasy. It had been escapism in its best form. It’d been a way to get through the dull day jobs, and the monotony and drudgery of office life, of dead end jobs with low pay. They’d known they were different, that they were prepared.

  That spirit had lived on past the EMP. Sure, the reality had been different than a lot of them had imagined. It’d been harsher, for one thing. The comforts of civilized life were no longer an option, no longer just a drive away. There was no going back.

  But now, the dream had been shattered. The attack by Max’s group, along with Kara’s death, had splintered the dream into mere fragments. Sure, Kara herself had been changing the overall attitude. But Max had changed everything.

  They’d all been willing to defend themselves, to use violence if necessary. But it had been thought of and talked about as a last resort.

  Now, they were bloodthirsty.

  When the scout from some militia had showed up, he’d been accepted with open arms. If he’d arrived a couple weeks ago, he would have been met with nothing but skepticism.

  Instead, they all seemed eager to join forces with a militia, a group that ruled with force and violence and nothing else. It was the opposite of the principles of shared worked on which the compound had been founded.

  Josh, and Josh alone, had remained skeptical. He’d stood in the shadows, in the corners, listening and not talking much.

  To Josh, the militia obviously didn’t have the compound’s best interest at heart. They wanted to use them for their own ends.

  And what did the militia want?

  They wanted more power. They wanted new allies. As well as to expand into new territories.

  The chaos and violence of anarchy was bad enough. Was a vicious military-ruled government really any better? Josh didn’t think so.

  The militia was looking for certain pieces of technology. Things that still worked. Things that could be used in their conquests.

  They wanted more radios, for one thing.

  Josh had been there when the compound members had been showing Devon, the militia scout, their own radio. He’d been impressed that it still worked, and had wanted a demonstration.

 
That’s when they’d overheard the discussion between the two brothers, Max and John. It’d been one week ago to the day. Max had foolishly given away his position, so that his brother could come join him.

  That had been everything they’d needed to know. Almost.

  Max hadn’t given his exact position. More like a set of directions on how to find him. He’d been somewhat vague, perhaps knowing that it was possible others were listening.

  If so, then he’d been clever. He’d given his brother a meeting place that wasn’t exactly the location of their camp.

  The compound almost knew where Max was, and that he had one radio. And that his brother was coming with yet another.

  It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

  Josh hadn’t wanted to go. He’d stayed in the corner, not speaking, hoping they’d forget about him.

  But Johnson had volunteered himself, and then Josh along with them. They were to act as the scouting party.

  The mission? Find Max’s exact location, leave unnoticed, and report back. In the meantime, the compound had other matters to attend to.

  Josh looked up.

  Johnson was walking towards him in his big white parka and his snowcap. Apparently he was unaware that there were two others here. He hadn’t seen them yet.

  Josh waved his hand furiously at Johnson.

  Johnson paused, looking confused.

  He wasn’t known for being the brightest. He wore a confused expression on his face as he looked at Josh’s waving hand.

  The crack of a rifle sounded through the frigid air.

  Johnson let out a scream, falling to the ground.

  Josh couldn’t tell if Johnson was dead or not. But he knew he couldn’t do anything for him. If he ran out there, he’d be shot, too.

  Another crack.

  Johnson was returning fire. He wasn’t dead. Not yet. He’d crawled on his belly behind a fallen tree trunk.

  Johnson was firing at irregular intervals. For now, it seemed like the enemies weren’t returning fire.

  This was Josh’s chance.

  He didn’t want to die.

  Not like this. Not here.