Flashpoint Box Set, Vol. 1 | Books 1-3

by Ellis, Tara

  Chloe stood off to the side with Crissy, her stomach clenching painfully. The automatic locks not working wasn’t a good sign. She looked around at the darkening woods and wondered what they would do if the Jeep didn’t work. It was obvious that the road was rarely used, and according to Bishop, wasn’t even on most maps. The area must have been cut well over thirty years ago, because the trees closest to the road were mature.

  Hicks was sitting in the driver’s seat, slamming his hands on the steering wheel. “The radio won’t even work!”

  So much for my plans, Chloe thought.

  “Pop the hood,” Bishop directed, moving around to the front of the vehicle.

  Crissy and Chloe dropped their heavy packs on the ground and then joined everyone else to stare uselessly at the machinery.

  “Whoa,” Ben hooted. “Check out that battery! It’s like Mount St. Helen’s on acid.” He laughed at his own joke before running off.

  But he was right. Chloe leaned in closer to get a better look. The battery acid had boiled over, spilling down the sides of the battery and forming a thick white foam on everything around it. There were even flecks of white scattered on the underside of the hood.

  “All the fuses are blown,” Hicks said with disgust, throwing a handful of small blue chips onto the ground. “We’re stuck.”

  “We start walking then.” Jason was already going for his pack. “This road has to lead somewhere.”

  Bishop slammed the hood. “Wrong. It’s over thirty miles of switchback down this particular mountain, and then another forty on a gravel forestry road before we’d even reach a paved road. And it’s, what?” he asked, looking at Hicks. “At least fifty miles back to base, which would be the closest town.”

  “Right,” Hicks confirmed. “Even if we hiked the three days back to where we started, it’d be another three day walk to the nearest town.”

  “We could just wave down a car,” Trevor suggested. “I’m sure someone would help us.”

  “The flashlights don’t work.” Ripley was at the back of the Jeep and had several boxes of supplies pulled out on the ground. “And all of the replacement batteries for our radios are dead.”

  “That flash was from far away,” Bishop said with a steady, stoic voice. “Well beyond Helena, and probably the state. We have to assume—”

  Before he could finish his sentence, there was a sudden flurry of movement over their heads. An odd assortment of sounds accompanied it, a combination of squawking, chirps, and an odd thrumming.

  Ducking instinctively, Chloe looked up and was so confused by what she saw that she stumbled backwards, disoriented. The sky was filling with an undulating mass. Brown, gray, and flashes of white blurred the movement and it wasn’t until one of the shapes veered away and dive-bombed them that it became clear it was a massive flock of birds. Large birds.

  “Argh!” Jason shouted as one of the animals collided with his forehead. It then fell to the ground and flopped there, its chest rising and falling rapidly. Trevor kicked at it, but Bishop pushed him back and then knelt next to the bird.

  “It’s a nighthawk.” Looking up at the flock of hawks, the older man shook his head. “They’re migratory birds that feed at twilight, but I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

  Jason wiped at a fleck of blood on his forehead and Chloe chastised herself for wanting to laugh. Instead, she ran with everyone else as they retreated to the trees and watched as three more hawks crashed into the ground and a fourth slammed into the windshield of the Jeep. They were quickly moving on, going north, and the sky was already clearing of them.

  Adam walked over to one of the ten-inch birds lying motionless in the gravel and poked at it with his foot. When it made a weak chirping sound, he looked back at Bishop. “This whole experience just went from Indiana Jones to Pet Sematary. Can we freaking leave now?”

  It was the most Chloe had ever heard the kid say at once, and she couldn’t agree with him more.

  “Bishop…” Ripley’s voice wavered and it was clear she wanted nothing more than to get out of there, too. “What could be doing all of this?” She pointed at the retreating, chaotic flock. “The animals, too?”

  “Isn’t there a magnetic field or something around us?”

  Everyone turned to look at Chloe and she cringed away from the attention. “It’s how certain animals navigate. You know, like the homing pigeon.” She looked at Bishop specifically. “There are theories that the magnetism in the Earth’s atmosphere can affect animals. It’s tied into earthquakes, and solar storms and stuff.”

  Bishop nodded, while Hicks frowned. “So? What does that have to with anything? Some birds went crazy, but I think it’s a stretch to try and connect it to the flash of light in the sky.”

  “Maybe not,” Chloe said, pointing at the sky to the north. Just above the tree line, ribbons of green and purple undulated, waves of pulsating light dancing across the heavens.

  “What the—” Trevor mumbled.

  “The northern lights,” Ripley gasped. “I’ve seen them before a couple of times, but never that bright.”

  “It’s not even dark yet.” Bishop was staring at the display open-mouthed. “That flash impacted the geomagnetic field. This has to mean that the upper atmosphere was hit by something incredibly destructive.” His voice was barely more than a whisper. “The ozone layer.”

  Hicks was moving with determination as he pulled a map out of his bag and used rocks to hold it down on the closed hood of the Jeep. “This just means we have all the more reason to get out of here.” It was hard to see the finer details in the fading light, yet he managed to locate where they were, since the restock site was marked with a large, red circle. From Chloe’s viewpoint, there was nothing save for wilderness on the map.

  Bishop tore his gaze from the skies and nodded at Hicks. “Here,” he said, pointing to a location south of them and near the edge of the map. “If we cut over to the secondary trail tomorrow…here.” His finger traced the broken line that lead to the south of their current location. “We bypass the second restock and instead head for this town. There’s a road that parallels the trail for a quarter mile we can use to lead us in.”

  “How long?” Ripley asked. “How long will it take us?” She kept looking nervously at the display in the sky that continued to grow in intensity.

  “Should be a two-day hike with that cut-off,” Hicks joined in, obviously on board with the plan. “If we’re careful with the water we’ve got here, we should be okay, even if we don’t cross any streams.”

  Jason threw his pack down and stormed away, unhappy with the idea of going back into the woods. Chloe moved up alongside Ripley to get a better look, offering her a second smile for the day. She wasn’t a pro at map reading, but she could tell the trail would take them through some rough terrain before dropping them down into a valley. Nestled there was their goal and hopefully an escape from the nightmare they’d been thrown into. Chloe hoped its name was an omen, because they all could use some Mercy.

  Chapter 11

  TOM

  Close to Pocatello

  Tom’s heart kept cadence with the horse’s hoofbeats as they clacked against the pavement, pounding out a tempo of fear. They were headed east toward the city, even as he had an increasing desire to go north. Not only was that the way home, it was also the direction the elk were running and he’d put his money on the elk any day.

  “Dad, don’t you think we’ve been pushing the horses too—whoa.” Ethan came up alongside him. “Is that Pocatello?”

  The city was burning. It looked like a nuclear bomb had gone off as black, roiling smoke churned high into the sky. Vehicles lay abandoned on the freeway, growing in numbers closer to the city, and Tom could see the shadows of hundreds of people mixed in among it all.

  Tom’s horse whinnied and tossed her head when he slowed her as they crested the hill. Taking in the scene spread across the valley, the glow of the fire through the approaching darkness made it hard to make ou
t the city’s skyline. It looked like most of the downtown area was involved and the question of whether the city was spared was painfully clear.

  Tom rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, that’s Pocatello. It isn’t a huge place, but there’s gotta be over fifty thousand people there.”

  “Why even bother going now?”

  Tom looked over at Ethan. “Because it’s still our best bet for finding out what happened and getting out of here.” He glanced back the way they’d come, anxious about the forest fire. Although they’d passed a handful of cars in the hour they’d been riding, only one had been occupied and the man didn’t have much to say. “I wish we had a map,” he grumbled. “I have a general knowledge of where we are, but that’s it.”

  Tugging at the lead rope for the riderless horse, Tom led them around the next curve in the road as they wound their way down the hill. It was nearly dusk, and the tall trees to either side of the road filtered the remaining light. Although the drop in temperature was a relief, the looming night was foreboding.

  As they came around the curve, two people suddenly ran past them. One had blood smeared across her face and the man was wild-eyed. Tom put up a hand in greeting, but they didn’t slow, although they appeared exhausted. Frowning, he watched them retreat and then turned back to see what was ahead of them.

  “What the—”

  Less than a quarter-mile away a massive object was protruding from the woods and partway onto the road. The highway was littered with debris, including twisted pieces of metal and massive, broken-off tree branches. Farther down the hill there were areas of burned-out woods and more unidentifiable shapes…except for one. The wing of a plane, standing upright as if it had been stabbed into the ground.

  “The plane we saw go down.” Tom looked again at the wreckage strewn across the road and the smell hit him—burning fuel mixed with acrid smoke, with the faintest undertones of burning meat. While most of the primary fires from the crash looked like they had burned out, flickers of orange and yellow still danced at the centers of debris piles and in the tops of trees. Most of the buildings in town had been spared from the initial impacts of what must have been several other planes and the ensuing secondary fires, but the ones that hadn’t were completely obliterated. Bits of wood and shingles could be seen on the ground if Tom looked hard enough, though that required staring at other things that he preferred not to think about.

  Ethan struggled for a moment to keep Tango under control as the horse caught wind of the smoldering rubble and carnage. “Should we stop and see if we can help anyone?”

  “There aren’t any survivors.”

  Tom turned toward the man’s voice. There was a truck in between them and what he now thought was the tail of the plane. The pickup was an older model with rusted wheel wells and a load of scrap metal in the back. Next to it were three men sitting around a campfire. One of them slowly stood and approached them.

  “Name’s Ned,” he said, sticking out a grease-covered hand. He was a large, middle-aged man in need of a haircut. Although he was smiling, it didn’t reach his eyes.

  Tom slid off his horse and took the offered hand, but not before giving Ethan a small shake of his head, hoping he’d understand. He wanted to be ready to move quickly. “Tom Miller. My son, Ethan.” He gestured to Ethan, who remained on Tango. He was a smart kid. “You heard anything about what’s happened?”

  Ned shook his head and then stepped to the side of Tom, obviously looking at their bags while he spoke. “We were on our way out of town when the light hit, and then a few minutes later that plane nearly took us out. Figured we’d wait for whoever was responding to the crash. Now, I’d say it’s a fair guess that no rescue party is coming. City doesn’t look any better than here so we’re waiting it out. You’re welcome to join us.” His two other friends stood.

  “Thanks, but I’d like to keep moving,” Tom replied evenly.

  Ned took a step closer to him, leaving less than a foot of space between them. “Look, Tom, we’re all in a rough spot here. It looks like you and your boy have plenty of gear so why don’t you help us out? Just toss us those bags and we’ll be happy to let you go on your way.”

  “Dad,” Ethan said with surprising vehemence. “They can’t take our stuff.”

  Tom quickly weighed his options. The Kimber was pressed into his lower back and his hand twitched in anticipation of grabbing it, but he’d never drawn a gun on a man before and he wasn’t at a point where he was ready to take a life over some water or granola bars. He was, however, confident of his ability to fight and he could use the weapon as a deterrent.

  “You’re more than welcome to some water,” Tom said, making a point of not stepping back or looking away. “The bags are staying where they are.”

  Ned hesitated, looked back at his two friends, and then grinned crookedly at Tom. “You know, you’re right. Why don’t we just leave those bags where they are and you can hand over the horses.”

  With the last words, Ned stepped in closer and started to raise his hands, but Tom was ready for him. Pivoting on his left foot, Tom brought his right fist up fast and hard, driving it into the stomach of the smaller man.

  Gasping in surprise, Ned dropped to a knee and bent over in pain. Tom put a hand on his head, forcing him to look at the ground, while pointing at the other two men. “This is between us.”

  Ethan had dismounted at some point because he was suddenly standing behind Tom, no doubt ready to prove himself. Though both of the guys were smaller than Tom, and Ethan was big for his age, he didn’t like the odds. He put his hand on the butt of his .45 as the two wavered.

  “Hello!” A new voice called to them from the other side of the truck.

  Tom watched as another man, carrying a small boy, stepped round the bumper. A woman was beside him and she had a rather large stick in her hand.

  “Need some help?” He was looking at Tom.

  “You should mind your own business,” Ned grunted as he staggered to his feet, still holding his stomach. Tom gave him a shove back in the direction of his friends.

  The younger man handed the boy off to the woman, revealing a sidearm holster. It held what looked like a Glock. “There’s enough of that going on in the city already,” he said evenly as he made his way around the group and then stopped next to Tom. “Pretty sure I heard this guy offer you some water, though. That was nice of him.”

  Tom slid his hand behind his back and withdrew the Kimber. He figured he and the newcomer would be enough of a threat that they wouldn’t have to actually use the guns. He casually held the firearm at his side.

  Ned’s eyes flicked back and forth between the holstered gun and Tom’s before he broke out in a wide smile. “Aw, we weren’t having a problem. Just a small misunderstanding. You all be safe out there, now.”

  Tom kept an eye on the three men as they backed away and waited until they were all seated again before stuffing the gun back in his waistband. “Come on, Ethan,” he said curtly before tugging on the lead rope of his own horse and the pack horse.

  Ethan quickly mounted Tango and began to head east again.

  “Hey, you don’t want to go that way.”

  Tom stopped to acknowledge the couple who’d stepped in to help them, now that they were a safe distance from the thugs. “Thanks for that,” he said, gesturing back toward the truck. “My name’s Tom, and this is Ethan.”

  “Austin.” They shook hands.

  “I’m his wife, Annie,” the woman’s grip was as strong as her husband’s.

  “Why’d you say we shouldn’t go to Pocatello?” Ethan asked, looking down at them.

  Austin shook his head in disgust. “Over half the town’s burning, and the rest have gone crazy.”

  “We were there when that…flash happened,” Annie said. “We barely got out.”

  “Do you have any idea what it was?” Tom asked, his mind racing with the implications.

  “Some sort of massive power surge.” Austin scratched at his forehead. “I
t came from the sky, whatever it was, and wasn’t like any weapon I’ve ever seen.”

  “You military?” Tom recognized the haircut and the way the man held himself.

  “US Army,” Austin confirmed. “Thankfully, I always carry my Glock in my truck. People started losing it once it became apparent that everything was gone.”

  Ethan moved his horse closer, his face a mask of concern. “What about the cops? Or the Army? Why isn’t anyone doing anything?”

  Austin looked up at Ethan and he tilted his head slightly, letting out a sigh. “Everything, including our police and military, relies upon technology to function. Take all of that away, including the ability to mobilize, and it’s going to take time to mount any sort of a response to…whatever this is.”

  “You seem to know a lot,” Tom said, taking in the man’s cool demeanor.

  Austin studied Tom’s face for a moment and he grimaced as he came to a decision. “Special forces. I’ve trained for the unexpected and I’m telling you that based on what I saw in that city, this isn’t like anything I’ve ever heard of. It came from the sky, from far south. I have a feeling we’re on our own.”

  “We need to get north,” Tom said, his compulsion to get away stronger than ever.

  “You can’t go this way,” Annie insisted. “The road is nearly blocked by one of the planes that crashed. We had to wait for it to burn itself out. Most of the people trying to get out of the city went north.”

  “One of the planes?” Tom asked, his suspicions of multiple crashes confirmed.

  “The airport is just a few miles from here, before town.” Austin waved toward the wreckage. “We saw at least three planes on the ground, but there’s probably more. Two of them crashed into downtown.”

  “Where are you headed?” Annie asked.

  “Ultimately, near Helena, Montana. A town called Mercy.” Tom said.

  Austin whistled. “Well, you just passed a road that’ll take you north. It’ll be a few miles out of your way but will eventually connect you to Interstate 15.”