Near Total Eclipse: Solar Plexus 2 (A Dystopian EMP Post-Apocalyptic Fiction Novel)

by Victor Zugg

  “Maybe,” Sam said. He wiped sweat from his face with his sleeve. “If they didn’t hear the shooting.”

  Martinez looked at the open bay door and then back to Sam. “It’s only been twenty minutes at most since we started.”

  Sam nodded. “I think we should prepare for their arrival. They will be here, probably soon.”

  “What did you have in mind?” Martinez asked.

  “You and your guys maintain your positions out front, but hidden from anyone approaching. When the trucks pull up and stop, open up. Shoot to miss but put a few rounds into the trucks’ metal. This will hopefully drive them out of the trucks on the building side. We’ll then open up the same way we did in here. If they cooperate with our plan, there won’t be any more casualties. Make sure you wait until both trucks come to a full stop and the men start getting out. Timing will be important.”

  Martinez nodded. “Worth a try.”

  “We need to get into position,” Sam said. “We’ll take care of these guys in here so they can’t yell out.”

  Martinez nodded, spun around, and trotted to the door. He motioned for his officers to follow. They jumped down from the landing and sprinted across the parking lot.

  Sam filled Chet, Bill, and Tiff in on the plan, and then the four of them began dragging the seven gangbangers away from the door.

  Sam found a roll of duct tape and taped their mouths shut. With the last guy taped he looked up at Chet. “Did you and Tiff find anyone back in the pallets?”

  “Just one,” Chet said. “He’s tied up back there.”

  Sam tore off a short strip of tape and handed it to Chet. “Make sure his trap is shut tight.”

  Sam then trotted back along the route he had taken through the pallets and taped the six people still on the floor and zip-tied.

  He took a few minutes to scout the pallets until he found one stacked with bottled water and another stacked with cases of granola bars.

  He returned to Chet, Tiff, and Bill at the bay door and handed out water and bars. Everyone drank and ate as they took a breather on some flattened cardboard boxes.

  Tiff was on her second granola bar when she suddenly cocked her head to one side, paused, and then got to her feet. She moved closer to the open bay door. “I hear engines.”

  Chet, still chewing on his fourth granola bar, got to his feet along with Sam and Bill. They joined Tiff.

  Sam nodded. “Yep, I hear it. Let’s get ready. Same routine as before. Let Martinez fire first.”

  Sam and Tiff stood to one side of the open bay; Chet and Bill stood to the other side, rifles at the ready.

  The sound of engines grew closer until, finally, the same two pickup trucks as before wheeled into the parking lot and came into view through the bay opening made narrow by the large tractor-trailers parked in the adjacent bays. Sam stole a glance.

  “Three men in each cab; two men in one bed, three in the other,” he whispered.

  The two trucks pulled to a stop in front of the bay, turned, and began backing toward the open bay door. Both trucks were able to fit side by side. Sam realized that this maneuver would make it hard to open the passenger door on the one truck, and the driver’s door on the other, at the same time. The cab passengers would all have to funnel out the one door on each truck.

  Sam was wondering when the firing would start when suddenly Martinez and his two officers stood up from their cover and began walking toward the two trucks. Hank, Lance, Wanda, and the rest of his guys stepped out into the open behind them.

  Sam glanced at Chet and saw him raise an eyebrow.

  The passenger door on the right truck opened, and a man stepped out. He was big. Bald. He wore jeans and a white T-shirt. Both forearms were covered with tattoos, the kind often seen on gang members in prison. Two red lightning bolts were most prominent. He was not armed.

  “Can I help you gents?” the man asked.

  The men in the other truck cab slid out of the one door on the outside and moved to the front of the truck. All three wore holstered semi-automatic pistols.

  “I’m the police chief of a nearby town,” Martinez said. “Your occupation of this distribution center is at an end.”

  Sam glanced over to Tiff and winced. At least he didn’t say which town.

  Tiff shook her head back and forth.

  The five men in the two truck beds slowly reached down and picked up rifles. They were obviously thinking the truck cabs they were behind would make good cover should there be any firing. They had a surprise coming.

  “We were here first,” the man said. “We don’t plan to take everything, only what we need.”

  “Fair enough,” Martinez said. “But you’re going to have to step aside while we load supplies.”

  “Can’t do that,” the man said. “Trust me; we have enough firepower here to ensure we go first.”

  “Really?” Martinez asked.

  The man glanced back to where Sam was standing in the open bay door. Rifle shouldered and pointed at the man.

  Tiff, Chet, and Bill stepped out in unison, also with rifles shouldered.

  The man looked back at Martinez and nodded. “Okay, let me gather my people and we’ll be on our way.”

  Martinez nodded and began walking forward. “Okay.”

  “Not okay,” Sam said. “He will gather more troops and stage an ambush.”

  Martinez rubbed his face, glanced at his two officers, and then to the man who had moved to the front of the truck. “He has a point.”

  “They stay here, cuffed,” Sam said, “while we load and leave.”

  “That doesn’t seem too neighborly,” the man said.

  Martinez scratched his head and looked at Sam. “Like I said, he has a point.” Martinez raised his rifle.

  The man raised his hands, smiled, and then lost the smile. “Are my people inside okay?”

  “One fired on us when he shouldn’t have,” Sam said. “He’s dead.”

  The man looked to the ground and shook his head. “That’s not good.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Sam, Chet, and the rest had just finished zip-tying the gang members and were moving boxes to the bay door when the Hummer, pulling a cargo trailer, and the pickups pulled in. Tiff at the wheel, backed the trailer into the loading bay. She stopped about ten feet short since the floor of the warehouse was higher than the floor of the trailer. Backing all the way would have made the trailer tough to load since the top of the trailer would have been in the way.

  Tiff exited the Hummer and hopped up and through the cargo bay.

  Sam dropped a box at her feet. “Grains, beans, canned goods, and ready-to-eat stuff, like jerky, are the priority.”

  “Where did you put the gang members?” Tiff asked.

  “In the southwest corner,” Sam said.

  Chet walked up and placed a couple of cases of something on the floor. “They haven’t said much. The guy who did the talking is Frank. He’s apparently in charge, and he’s not happy.”

  “Temporarily unhappy and alive is better than dead,” Tiff said. “Where do you need me?”

  “You can jump down and start loading the trailer,” Sam said. “When it’s full, you can take it to town. We’ll load the pickups while you’re gone.”

  Tiff nodded and then jumped back to the ground.

  Lance jumped down to help load.

  Chet began handing boxes down to Lance while Hank, Bill, and Wanda ferried boxes to the bay door.

  “Speaking of pickups,” Chet said, “I think we should take their vehicles. That’s two more trucks and a car we could use. Or Marysville or Townsend could use.”

  “Probably a good idea,” Sam said. “I’ll check with Martinez and see how our friends are doing.”

  Sam walked up next to Martinez and one of his officers, standing next to the gang members lounging as best they could with their hands and feet tied. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” Martinez said. “Some grumbling. Frank says the rest of his friends won’t
be happy about this.”

  “I wonder if we should notify the nearest sheriff or police chief,” the officer said.

  “If we do, better if it’s after we get our supplies out of here,” Sam said.

  Martinez nodded and then pursed his lips. “I doubt there are any around still organized.”

  “Whatever you decide,” Sam said. “Chet thinks we should take their vehicles.”

  Frank turned his head and glared at Sam.

  Martinez rubbed his chin and then pinched the bridge of his nose. He glanced down at Frank, the two children in the group, and then back to Sam. “This might be a mistake, but I think we should leave them the vehicles. We have what we came for.”

  “What about the weapons?” Sam asked.

  Martinez glanced at Frank again. “We take the weapons.”

  Sam nodded. “I’ll get back to loading.”

  ***

  The Hummer’s blackout lights cast a dull glow over the cabin as Tiff steered the final few feet of the drive. She spun the wheel to the left until the Hummer and the cargo trailer formed a tight semi-circle in the grass.

  She switched the ignition off and turned to Sam in the passenger seat. “I’m totally wasted, and not in a good way.”

  “We definitely need some rest,” Chet said from the back seat. “It’s been a long two days.”

  They opened their respective doors and stepped out.

  Sam stretched his back, massaged his neck muscles, and stared up at the bright stars in the night sky. He wondered if cutting Frank’s zip ties was the right thing to do. Martinez and everyone was in agreement to let them go, minus their weapons, just before they pulled out with the eighth trailer load and disappeared into the dark. Would it come back to haunt him?

  Chet and Tiff stopped next to Sam and peered up at the stars.

  “They sit there same as before, acting like the sun didn’t destroy our world,” Tiff said.

  “Huh?”

  “The stars,” Tiff said.

  Sam nodded. “I was just thinking about Frank and his thugs. Letting them go free.”

  “They’ll pretty much need to go through Marysville and Townsend before they get here,” Chet said.

  Sam glanced at Chet, rubbed his face with one hand, and looked down at the ground. “Yeah.”

  The cabin door swung open and Charlie and Emma stepped out.

  “Looks like you made it back in one piece,” Charlie said.

  “Yeah, and we come bearing gifts,” Chet said, as he motioned toward the trailer.

  “Hope there’s something in there,” Emma said.

  “There is, but we’ll deal with it in the morning,” Sam said, as he stepped toward the cabin. “Is there anything to eat?”

  “A pot of chili is still warm,” Emma said.

  “You’re a life saver,” Sam said, as he stepped inside.

  They sat around the kitchen table—a bowl of steaming chili in front of Sam, Chet, and Tiff. Chet and Tiff were munching.

  Sam stirred his chili and finally took a bite.

  “Well, what happened?” Charlie asked.

  Tiff swallowed. “The distribution center was occupied by twenty-something gang members. We got the drop on them. They lost one guy before they gave up. We loaded pickups and some cargo trailers and made eight trips to Marysville where we dropped off all the supplies except for what’s in the trailer outside. The folks in Townsend will drive over to Marysville tomorrow and divvy up the goods. If everyone rations, there should be enough to get through the winter for the people of Townsend and us.”

  “What happened to the gang members?” Emma asked.

  “Let them go when we left,” Tiff said. “The police chief in Marysville kept their weapons.”

  “Will we have to worry about them?” Charlie asked.

  “Maybe,” Sam said. “Probably. But not tonight.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Sam stepped up to the cargo trailer and slung the doors open. Charlie cocked his head to peer inside at the boxes and bags that filled about a third of the trailer.

  “What’d you get?” Charlie asked.

  Tiff stepped into the trailer. “A little of everything and a few extras we can use for barter.”

  “Rice, beans, canned goods including some canned meats and tuna, ready-to-eat stuff, powdered milk,” Chet said, as he stepped into the trailer. “We got a couple of bags of potatoes and some carrots. And I made sure to get plenty of oatmeal. We even got some vegetable seeds for planting next spring.”

  “We’ll need to supplement this with what we can gather off the land and fish from the stream,” Sam said. “But I’m feeling less anxious about food.”

  “What about propane for the stove?” Emma asked.

  “Propane will be hard to find,” Chet said.

  “Once the tank out back is empty, we’ll need to figure something else,” Sam said.

  “We should start planning now,” Charlie said.

  “There’s the brick barbecue pit in the back and the fireplace,” Tiff said.

  “May have to do,” Sam said.

  “I did some walking yesterday,” Charlie said, “and found plenty of edible plants. There’s a ton of lambs quarter and amaranth, both vegetable and grain varieties of the amaranth.”

  Sam stepped into the trailer and picked up a box. “Let’s unload this stuff. I wanted to head back into town today to make sure everything goes okay with the food distribution.”

  “Is there a hardware store around?” Charlie asked. “I’d like to get some larger gauge PVC pipe for some water filters Chet and I are working on.”

  “There’s a depot in Marysville,” Sam said. “Maybe you, Chet, and I could check it out.” Sam looked at Tiff. “Do you mind hanging out here?”

  “I can help Mom put this stuff away,” Tiff said. “You boys go have fun.”

  Everyone proceeded to shuttle the supplies into the cabin. Forty-five minutes later the trailer stood empty.

  “Are we taking the trailer?” Chet asked.

  Sam thought for a moment. “Let’s leave it. It will be easier to get around.”

  ***

  Chet pulled the Hummer to a stop in front of the Townsend police department, next to the Chevy pickup. The bed was half loaded with boxes. Jimmy, Wanda, and Lance were in the process of unloading and moving the supplies into the building.

  Lance, standing in the back of the pickup, stopped his work when Sam, Chet, and Tiff stepped out of the Hummer and walked up to the Chevy. Sweat dripped off Lance’s nose, and soaked his T-shirt. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “Come to help?” Lance asked. He smiled.

  “If you need it,” Sam said. “Where’s Hank and Bill?”

  “With the other truck in Marysville,” Lance said. “We drove both trucks over early this morning, loaded this one first. We took off to unload here and left them there to load and follow. They should be here any time.”

  “How many runs do you plan to make?” Chet asked.

  “Not sure. As many as Martinez will allow.”

  Sam nodded. “He has a much larger population to worry about.”

  Jimmy paused at the building’s open door with a box in his hand and wiped his face with the sleeve of his T-shirt. “This was mainly our operation. It’s my understanding that Martinez was just tagging along.” Jimmy handed his box to Wanda.

  Sam said nothing, but raised his chin to acknowledge what Jimmy had said.

  Chet jumped into the truck bed, grabbed a box, and handed it to Jimmy. Sam and Charlie fell in at the rear of the truck and began shuttling boxes handed to them by Chet and Lance. Fifteen minutes later, the job was done.

  Chet and Lance jumped out of the truck.

  Lance grabbed a towel hanging on the police department front door and wiped his face. Lance looked up at the sky. “They should have been here by now.”

  “Why don’t you leave Wanda and Jimmy to sort the supplies,” Sam said. “We’ll head over to check on Hank’s progress. We were going
to drive over there anyhow.”

  “What about taking the Chevy back over for another load?” Lance asked.

  “There’s something not right about Hank and Bill taking so long,” Sam said. “Let’s check it out first.”

  Lance nodded, mopped his face again, his arms, and then slipped on a short-sleeve button-down shirt. He then strapped on his pistol holster and followed Sam, Chet, and Charlie to the Hummer.

  Sam peered out his window as Chet wheeled the Hummer down Route 321 into Marysville fifteen minutes later.

  Chet slowed to maneuver around people in the street.

  “This part of town is a lot more crowded with people than it was this morning,” Lance said.

  Sam looked down each side street they passed and saw more people. Given his several trips around and through Marysville over the prior several days, this was the first time he saw this many people out en masse. And they didn’t seem happy. This was also the first time Sam saw significant looting in town. There were few stores along this stretch of road, but what there were had all been looted. Broken glass littered parking lots. People carried various items that might be found in an office.

  Chet, Sam, Charlie, and Lance looked on without saying much.

  Farther into town, Chet glanced over at Sam. “Natives are restless.”

  “Sooner than expected,” Sam said. “And it’s only going to get worse.”

  Suddenly, Chet whipped the steering wheel to the right to miss an office chair slung into the street by a man on the sidewalk. That same man then grabbed a metal trash can, ran through a parking lot to a bank building, and threw the can through the front plate glass window.

  “Martinez won’t have to wait for an influx from surrounding major cities,” Sam said, “he has problems right here, right now.”

  Lance scooted forward in his seat. “This is not looking good.”

  “Something set them off,” Charlie said.

  “Probably it’s just time,” Chet said. “They stopped waiting and started acting.”

  “If it’s this bad here, it must be ten times worse over on Broadway,” Lance said. “That’s where all the stores are.”