Survive the Chaos (Small Town EMP Book 1)
Page 1
Small Town EMP
Survive the Chaos
Survive the Aftermath
Survive the Conflict
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, JULY 2019
Copyright © 2019 Relay Publishing Ltd.
All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Grace Hamilton is a pen name created by Relay Publishing for co-authored Post-Apocalyptic projects. Relay Publishing works with incredible teams of writers and editors to collaboratively create the very best stories for our readers.
Cover Design by LJ Mayhem Covers
www.relaypub.com
Blurb
When the lights go out, anarchy reigns supreme.
After journalist Austin Merryman’s wife died, he and his fourteen-year-old daughter left home to travel the country in an old RV. But the comfort and renewal they sought soon descends into chaos.
After a message from an old college buddy leads Austin to a bridge in the middle of nowhere, he finds his friend—now an NSA agent—waiting to give him a USB drive. Before the contents can be explained, machine gun fire strafes the bridge, killing Austin’s friend and forcing Austin into the raging river.
Rescued downstream by a beautiful veterinarian, Austin learns that EMP attacks have thrust the world into eternal darkness—and separated him from the only person he has left. Now, he’ll move heaven and earth to locate his daughter and make it to his brother’s prepper hideaway in Utah.
But the post-apocalyptic world is no longer a friendly place. Resources are growing scarce. Factions break out along ethnic and religious lines. Everyone is willing to do whatever it takes to survive in an increasingly hostile environment. And Austin’s daughter is caught right in the middle of this splintering society.
But an even deadlier foe stalks them as they struggle across the landscape. Someone who hasn’t forgotten about the USB drive Austin possesses.
And they’ll do anything to get it back.
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
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
End of Survive the Chaos
Thank you
About Grace Hamilson
Sneak Peek: Survive the Aftermath
Also by Grace Hamilton
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1
Austin Merryman stored the last of the dinner dishes in the small cupboard of his thirty-two-foot fifth wheel. The RV wasn’t an ideal living space for a man and his fourteen-year-old daughter, but they’d been managing to make it work. As he and Savannah constantly reminded each other, it was both easy and difficult to keep the small living space clean. It only took a stray pair of shoes or a few dishes on the tiny kitchen counter to make things look untidy, and both of them were guilty of forgetting the fact on a too-regular basis.
Waiting for Savannah to emerge from the little upper bedroom, he folded a blanket, tossed it on the couch, and put the TV remote back in the little caddy mounted on the wall. Austin liked things neat, though he knew Savannah had to clean up after him just as he was cleaning up after her now.
“Savannah!” he called out, checking his watch again.
She popped her head out from around the upstairs corner of the fifth-wheel, a hair dryer still in her hand. “What?”
“I have to get going.”
She shrugged as she wrapped the cord around her dryer. “I told you, I don’t need a ride. Leave already.”
“I’ll be back within an hour or so. Where are you going exactly?” he asked. She’d told him she was going to the creamery for ice cream with the girl who lived on a nearby farm; somehow, he couldn’t believe it was that simple. He wanted to, but he’d seen the way she’d ogled that boy they’d run into in town—and the way they’d leaned in to each other to talk. He remembered being young and carefree. Yeah, it had been a long time ago, before life and the world had given him a much more jaded view of things, but he remembered. And Savannah was too pretty for him to forget what he’d been like as a teenage boy.
“Dad, I already told you. We’re going to get ice cream,” she groaned, adjusting her hair in a hand mirror. “Me and Cassie.”
Out with it, Austin. “Are you going to see that boy?” he asked.
She glanced over to meet his eyes and then gave him that maddening teenage shrug again. “He might be there,” she replied.
Right. He might be there. Austin kept eyeing her, trying to decide whether or not to trust her—not that he had much choice, but still. She looked so much like his late wife that it hurt sometimes. Her long, light brown hair had been brushed to a high shine and left loose around her shoulders. She’d only asked him to buy her lip gloss and mascara thus far. He dreaded the day she wanted to go full face-paint. He preferred the clean, youthful look that befitted her fourteen years over the girls her age who he’d seen with more makeup than a supermodel wore.
And he had to admit, she didn’t give him as much stress as he knew many fourteen-year-olds dealt their parents. Even with tonight being a warm early summer night, she wore something he couldn’t quite object to. For tonight’s ice cream trip, she’d donned the black flowy shirt with the shoulder cut-outs that she’d begged him to buy her on their last mall visit. And it wasn’t truly revealing, so he couldn’t complain. It just made her look far more mature than he liked, reminding him that he had to accept that she was growing up.
“I want you home by ten,” he reminded her. “Not at the farmer’s house with your friend down the street, either. Home.”
Finally starting to move down toward the door where he stood, she quirked her lips in a frown. “Dad, it doesn’t even get dark until like nine-thirty,” she argued.
“Ten, or don’t go at all. You don’t need to be walking around after dark. There are wild animals out here,” he lectured her.
“I have my phone,” she said, brandishing it as if the expensive gadget were a gun. He wished it were, the way she looked.
“And the service out here sucks,” he told her, “as you remind me all the time. Animals aren’t going to wait for you to call for help, either.”
The look she gave him told him she was mentally slapping her hand to her forehead, even if she was smart enough not to actually do it in front of him. “My phone has a flashlight and Cassie knows this area. We’ll be fine, Dad.”
“Don’t take rides from strangers, and remember what
I told you if anyone tries to grab you.”
She got to within a foot of him and leaned back on the couch in obedient daughter mode. “I remember: palm to the nose, fingers in the eyes, and knee to the crotch,” she recited robotically.
“Upward palm,” he corrected her.
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I got it. Maybe you should just have me carry mace or something,” she suggested.
Austin grinned, gesturing her toward the door to get her moving. “That’s a good idea. I’ll pick up some bear spray tomorrow when we go into town for groceries,” he commented, only half joking. He had to hide a grin when she gasped in a breath like they were in a horror movie.
“Dad! No! I can’t be the only girl carrying bear spray around!”
“Sure, you can. If you want to wander around by yourself, Savannah, you’ll do exactly that.”
She looked in the mirror on the wall, doing one last primp of her hair as Austin forced himself to remain patient. “You are so overreacting. We’re in the middle of the country,” she grumbled. “The nearest town has a population of like two hundred people,” she finished, exaggerating the low population by a few thousand.
He shrugged back at her, now holding the door open as a heavy hint that he wanted them both out if she was going. “Small towns have bad guys, too. And plenty of teen boys who don’t always know when to keep their hands to themselves,” he added.
She shook her head in disgust. “I’m old enough to date, Dad, and Malachi isn’t like other teen boys.”
So, she was planning on seeing him. Damn. He just curbed himself from telling her she had to stay home, knowing he couldn’t watch her all the time. But he wouldn’t consent to dating. Not yet. He caught her eyes with his before he emphasized, “No, Savannah. Not yet.”
“Da-a-a-d.” She dragged out the word.
This wasn’t a conversation he was going to have again tonight. She was growing up too fast. His wife had made him promise to take care of her, and that’s what he would do, even if it meant dragging her around the country and keeping her out of the reach of boys.
“Savannah, be glad I’m letting you go at all. I could insist on driving you to the creamery and meeting the boy who may or may not be there,” he warned her.
He heard her mumble something under her breath but didn’t bother asking what she’d said as he stepped into the doorway, hoping she’d get the hint that he really had to go. It had probably been one of those snappy comments that would only irritate him further. Austin grabbed his cellphone from the table beside the door and slid it into his back pocket as he stepped outside. It didn’t do a lot of good to carry the thing out in the mountains of west Kentucky where he and Savannah were currently staying, but he might as well. Despite it being inconvenient when it came to keeping track of Savannah, he liked the idea of being somewhat off the grid. So what if cell service was spotty? It gave them more time to focus on the moment, the here and now—wherever they happened to be on any given day.
When Karen had died a little over a year ago, he’d used part of the life insurance money to buy the fifth wheel. He’d waited until Savannah had finished the eighth grade and then they’d hit the road. He just couldn’t stand being in the house with all the reminders. He’d planned on traveling through the summer, and then it had turned into a year. He still couldn’t go back and face her clothes, the pictures of them on their wedding day, and all those little things in the house that were reminders of her.
So, now, he traveled the country with his daughter, doing stories about things national reporters were too busy to worry about. She could homeschool easily enough, and he liked the salt of the earth people and discovering little secrets in small towns and out of the way places; writing about them felt worthwhile. It was a way for him to fulfill his need to travel and make a living while still being a good dad to his daughter.
Finally, Savannah stepped down the two steps of the trailer and looked at him, daring him to say something about the mascara she had piled on. She was pushing it and she knew it.
“You look nice,” he said with a smile, completely throwing her off. “Thanks,” she mumbled, slipping her own cellphone into the back pocket of her jeans.
“Be careful, please,” Austin reminded her. “Be aware of your surroundings, and call me if you need anything,” he said, giving her a quick hug.
“I will, Dad. Stop worrying, okay?” she said, squeezing him back. “We’re just getting some ice cream. It isn’t that big of a deal.”
After she checked for her key, he locked the trailer door, though even he admitted it was a little silly considering they were out in the middle of farmland. Still, it was an old habit, and one really never knew when someone could stop by and rifle through their things.
Turning away from the door, Austin watched as his daughter cut across the pasture, dodging horse manure as she headed towards the dirt road that led into town. He shielded his eyes with his hand and saw Cassie standing under a tree by the roadside, gesturing for his daughter to hurry. He waved back when Cassie spotted him and sent him a big wave, happy to know Savannah had made a friend—especially one who lived just a few farms down the road. In another moment, Savannah picked up her pace, almost jogging as she rushed to meet her friend. He watched for another minute as they met and bumped shoulders before starting the mile or so’s walk into town.
Austin would have driven them, but Savannah had wanted to walk, and he was going in the opposite direction anyway. He climbed into his black F-350 and started the diesel engine, taking only a quick glance at the GPS before bouncing down the bumpy driveway and heading for the highway. Callum Barker had called him a few days ago, completely out of the blue, and asked to meet. Austin had thought it strange, but Callum insisted it was important and that the story would be worth his time. He’d also promised the meeting would take less than five minutes, which meant Austin would be home in plenty of time to make sure Savannah met her curfew—and to go looking for her if she lingered in town with that boy.
By the time he hit the highway, the meeting had taken over the fore of his thoughts. Austin remembered Callum as being a little off when they’d been in college, one of those conspiracy-type guys, but he’d sounded desperate on the phone. And they’d spent enough nights drinking together that Austin figured he at least owed him the gas it would take to hear him out. He figured he’d meet him, give the guy the proverbial pat on the head, and promise to look into the evidence he presented and be on his way. Maybe it would even be an interesting diversion from his usual stories and offer a brief change of pace. That couldn’t hurt, right?
The meeting place was a twenty-minute drive from the farm, set in some corner of nowhere. When Austin had punched it into his GPS, the dot had looked like it was in the middle of a forest, on the bank of a river with nothing else around it.
“Where am I going?” he muttered after driving about ten miles up the highway. The GPS was telling him to take a right turn on a muddy road that was barely wide enough for his truck to squeeze through the trees.
He heard the first branch scrape alongside his truck’s side after driving only fifty meters or so, right around the moment his GPS alerted him to a lost signal. He was on his own. In another minute, he grunted with annoyance and brought the truck to a stop. A fallen tree blocked the so-called road ahead—if he wanted to meet Callum, he’d have to go the rest of the way on foot.
“This better be worth it,” he grumbled. Before long, he could hear the rushing river and knew he was close. Callum had said there’d be an old covered bridge that was out of commission, so that’s what he kept an eye out for. Looking around, though, he could see why it’d be out of use. The old road was near completely overgrown with trees and brush; it didn’t appear to have been driven on by anything more than an ATV in a long time.
With it being the end of June, the spring melt had left the river high and loud, lapping at the banks and splashing an angry path as it cut through the area. Deeper in, the road started running par
allel to the river, and Austin could barely hear himself think for the noise it made once he came to see the covered bridge ahead. Picking up his pace, he remained careful not to slip and fall on the muddy terrain of the road as he headed up the side of the river toward the bridge. It looked rickety at best, perched about fifteen feet over the rushing water below.
“Hey!” he called out, noticing Callum standing in the shadows of the covered bridge, close to the other side of the river.
The man’s bearded face and shaggy hair made him look much older than the forty-something years Austin knew him to be. Austin himself was forty-four, and Callum had been a year behind him in college.
“Hi, thanks for meeting me,” Callum said, his eyes darting around the area as he reached out to shake hands, glancing back to look over his shoulder now and again.
“Sure. What’s all this about?” Austin asked, gripping the other man’s hand tighter to bring his attention back to the meeting.
Callum nodded and leaned back on the side of the bridge, gesturing for Austin to come right in beside him. Austin stepped in to stand closer, their elbows nearly touching, and waited. He’d come this far, so he might as well play along. The clandestine encounter had his senses heightened, too, even if he figured his old friend was overreacting. It was hard to not let the man’s nervousness rub off on him.