Survive the Chaos (Small Town EMP Book 1)

by Grace Hamilton

  “There’s someone on the road up there,” she said in a low voice.

  Austin’s eyes scanned the horizon, spotting the person hunched down in tall, dry grass. He pulled his gun from the waistband of his jeans and slid the safety off. Amanda did the same. They had encountered little trouble on their journey thus far, but the people they had spoken with to do some trading had told them how bad things were in the cities.

  The young man who’d been hunched in the grass jumped to his feet when he heard them coming. Both his hands went into the air. “I don’t want any trouble,” he said, his eyes a little wild.

  Austin looked down to see what he had been messing with on the ground. “What is that?” he asked, unable to identify the bulk through the thick grass.

  The young man had sandy blond hair that looked like it hadn’t been washed or brushed in weeks, and this close, it was clear just how young he was, and how little an apparent threat. His cheeks were hollow, a clear sign of starvation, and he looked terrified. Austin studied him closer and guessed that the kid was probably in his late teens—not much older than his own daughter.

  “It’s my little sister, sir,” the boy replied, his voice wavering.

  Austin looked at Amanda, and he saw the second her guard went down. She was a bleeding heart and couldn’t pass up the opportunity to help someone—especially a child. Heck, he was proof that she couldn’t turn down a chance to help a stranger.

  “Amanda,” he warned her, but it was too late; she was already sliding off the saddle, holstering the gun she’d held in her hand.

  Austin stayed in his saddle, his own gun aimed at the boy in case he tried anything funny.

  “What’s wrong with your sister?” Amanda asked, approaching the bundle on the ground.

  The boy watched Amanda, his apparent terror seeming to bleed away into exhaustion now that they’d become less threatening. “She’s sick.”

  “What kind of sick?” Amanda asked.

  “I don’t know. She got real sick a couple days ago and isn’t getting better. I thought it was the flu, but her fever is real high.”

  Austin watched as Amanda knelt in the grass, the top of her shoulders and head all that was visible as the dry grass rustled in the breeze. He could hear her murmuring in soft tones, and knew she was talking to the girl.

  “How old is your sister?” Austin asked.

  “She’s eight, sir,” he replied, his eyes focused on Amanda.

  Austin lowered his gun, no longer worried that the boy was a threat—his eyes were only on his sister and what Amanda was doing. Austin pegged him for the son of a farmer, which brought up the question of why the kid was so far out of town alone with his little sister.

  “Where are your parents?” Austin asked, keeping an eye on Amanda.

  The boy looked up, his blue eyes going empty. “They’re dead, sir.”

  Austin inwardly winced. “I’m sorry to hear that. Did they pass recently?”

  “Yes.”

  Austin nodded, thankful that the boy’s tone was flat instead of grief-stricken, at least. Maybe it was shock, but it made the conversation easier. “What’s your name?” Austin asked.

  “Beck, and that’s my little sister, Janie. Our parents were killed a few days ago. He was a pastor… and they killed him,” the boy suddenly sobbed out. Without warning, he collapsed onto his backside, sitting beside Amanda and his sister in the grass as he cried.

  Austin dismounted, lost for words. Leaning on Raven, he wiggled his toes in the walking boot to get the circulation moving again before he hobbled towards the kids and Amanda. Reaching them, he put a light hand on the boy’s head, and waited for the sobs to subside as he watched Amanda continue whispering to the girl she was examining.

  “I’m sorry to hear it, truly. But who is they?” Austin asked quietly.

  The boy looked at him then, and there was so much sorrow and pain in his eyes that it hurt Austin to see it.

  “The bad ones. The ones who are blaming God for this blackout,” Beck said.

  “Blaming God?” Amanda asked, looking up from where she was helping the girl to sit up.

  Beck nodded. “They say God is to blame for this. My dad, he was a pastor. We were at church, and these men burst in. My dad, he asked them to leave. They shot him in front of the whole congregation. Everyone. My mama, she screamed and ran to my dad. They shot her, too,” Beck said, his voice flat and hoarse from sobbing. “They killed a whole bunch of other people, too. I hid underneath a pew; covered Janie with my body. I thought they were going to kill us all. Before they left, they said they would kill anyone caught worshiping the evil God responsible for all this.”

  Austin was listening to the words, not thinking much about it until a horrible realization popped into his head.

  “Beck, I’m looking for my daughter. She’s traveling with a group—they’re a religious group of sorts. Have you seen them?” he asked, struggling to find the right word to explain who they were. Austin didn’t know who they were, though—not really. They had no denomination, so far as he knew. He knew their names and that was about it.

  Beck shrugged blankly. “I don’t know. We’ve had a lot of people come and go.”

  “What are you doing out here?” Amanda asked, lifting Janie in her arms.

  Austin looked at her, wondering what she thought she was doing as she walked past him, carrying her tiny bundle and heading for the cart. He moved, walking behind her, Beck right on his heels.

  “It was too dangerous at the farm,” Beck said from behind Austin.

  “Too dangerous?” Austin asked, going around Amanda to move some stuff out of the way in the cart. There was no arguing with her, clearly, and this little girl wasn’t walking anywhere on her own. Even Austin understood that, no matter how it slowed them down, they couldn’t leave Beck on the side of his road with his sister in this condition.

  Beck stared at Amanda and Janie as the vet settled his little sister among some blankets and then answered, “They came and took everything. I ran away in the middle of the night.”

  Austin nodded. It was a familiar story. People were being pushed out of their homes or killed by those who had no qualms about using violence to get what they wanted. It would have happened at Amanda’s farm eventually.

  “Tell me about your sister,” Amanda said, steering the conversation back to the ailing little girl.

  Beck walked to the side of the cart, reaching his hand in to hold his sister’s hand. “She just got sick. I don’t know what happened.”

  Amanda was in the cart now, pulling off the heavy black trash bags they had used to cover their supplies, protecting them from view as well as the weather. She grabbed her bag of medical supplies.

  “I need water,” she muttered, glancing up to Austin.

  Austin moved to grab the canteen from his saddle. She took it and made Janie take a few sips.

  “What did you two eat, before she got sick?” Amanda asked.

  Beck shrugged. “Not much. We had some of my mom’s canned soup a few days ago, but we haven’t eaten anything else since then.”

  Amanda nodded. “Did the soup taste funny? Did you get sick?”

  “No,” he said firmly, and then he paused, glancing again at his sister. “Well, it did taste kind of funny, but it was cold. I let Janie eat most of it,” he said in a soft voice.

  Austin reached out and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You were being a good big brother.”

  “Did I make her sick?” he demanded, looking from Austin to Amanda.

  “No, like my friend said, you were being a good brother. She’ll get better, but you just have to be careful about canned goods now, okay? I think she might have some food poisoning. I have some medicine that’s going to help make her feel better. She needs rest and fluids, and I think she’s going to be just fine,” Amanda assured him.

  “Are you a doctor?” Beck asked.

  Amanda smiled. “Kind of. I’m a vet, but I grew up on a farm, and my mother’s c
anned food made me sick enough times to recognize food poisoning.”

  “Do you have family or somewhere to go?” Austin asked.

  “My uncle lives a few miles away. I was on my way there.”

  Austin and Amanda exchanged a look. He gave a subtle nod, agreeing to what he knew she was asking. There was no way to refuse, after all.

  “We’ll give you a ride over there,” Amanda said.

  “You will?” Beck asked, his voice betraying his shock.

  “We will. Get in and tell us the way to go,” Austin said, moving back to climb into Raven’s saddle.

  Austin looked at Amanda once she’d mounted Charlie, and she smiled. “Thank you.”

  He nodded, frowning to think that she’d believe he could abandon some kids like this on the side of the road. “I’m not unfeeling. I’m not going to leave a couple kids out here.”

  “Good. We might not kill each other yet,” she joked.

  He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Don’t count on it.”

  She laughed and clucked her tongue, spurring Charlie and the cart into movement. The cart jerked forward and they set off once again. Austin remained on high alert after hearing the story about the townspeople turning on those who believed in God. That was a scary situation to be in, and he couldn’t imagine being in the position of these kids. It made him even more worried about his daughter and the religious nuts he knew she was traveling with. Hopefully, they were keeping their heads down and not spouting off all their religious jargon.

  “Right up there,” Beck called out, pointing to a small white house in the middle of a large wheat field.

  A man emerged on the porch, a long rifle hanging at his side. It was a silent show of strength without appearing overly threatening.

  “Is that your uncle?” Austin asked.

  Beck jumped out of the cart. “Uncle Art!”

  “Beck?”

  “It’s me! Uncle Art, Janie’s sick!” Beck called out, running across the field and into his uncle’s arms.

  “Where’s your mom and dad?” Austin heard the uncle ask as they got closer, and his heart squeezed.

  Beck threw his arms around his uncle’s neck, apparently unable to answer, and Austin pulled his horse to a stop, giving Beck and the uncle a few minutes of privacy as Amanda went on with Janie in the cart. He could hear the uncle’s sobs and imagined how he would feel if it had been his brother Ennis who’d been killed in such a brutal fashion. They weren’t exactly close, but it was unfathomable.

  “Come on, sweetie,” Amanda said to the little girl who was sitting up in the cart.

  “I can carry her,” Austin volunteered.

  “No, not with your leg. You don’t need to be putting any extra weight on it,” she lectured him, already taking the girl in her own arms.

  He wasn’t going to argue, he guessed, knowing the damage he could do to himself and the girl if he fell. Instead, he walked along behind her as she headed toward the porch.

  “I’m Austin, and this is Amanda,” he said, introducing himself to the uncle.

  The man nodded, still clutching Beck. “Thank you so much for getting them out here.”

  “Do you have food and water?” Amanda asked.

  The uncle hesitated, apparently stuck for words.

  “For the kids, not for us,” Austin supplied, knowing that that was what Amanda had been asking. “Your niece has a touch of food poisoning, it seems.”

  The man breathed out relief, and nodded thanks. “I do.”

  Amanda smiled, settling Janie into a chair on the porch. “Great, she needs to start with something light—rice, applesauce, maybe some toast,” Amanda said, forgetting that bread might not be an option, and that toasting it the traditional way was definitely not possible. Still, from the look on his face, the man seemed to understand.

  “Can I give you something for your trouble?” Art asked them.

  “No, thank you. We need to be on our way.”

  “Where you headed?” he asked.

  “Out west,” Austin replied simply.

  “That’s a long way. Are you headed out to Denver?” he asked.

  Austin raised an eyebrow, immediately suspicious. “We’ll probably pass through. Why do you ask?”

  Art shrugged, his eyes on Beck and his sister. “I heard a few other folks are headed out that way. Supposed to be some kind of refugee camp or something.”

  “Really?” Austin and Amanda asked in unison.

  “That’s what I heard. I don’t believe it for a minute. I’ll be staying right here,” he said.

  “I’m looking for my daughter,” Austin said. “She’s traveling with a group of people who are headed that way. They’re a religious group of sorts.”

  “Oh?” Art asked.

  “Maybe you saw them?” Austin asked hopefully.

  “Loveridge family?” he asked.

  Austin felt his own eyes widen as he grinned. “Yes! You saw them?”

  “It’s been a couple weeks. They said they were going to Utah. They were trying to recruit people to join them. Which one is your daughter?”

  “Savannah. Brown hair with blonde highlights—petite teenager,” he said, anxious for any news at all of his daughter.

  “She was with them alright.”

  Austin nearly dropped to his knees. “She was okay?”

  “Looked fine to me. They gave a service and then moved on the next day. She kind of hung back. I wondered what her story was. I asked her if she was okay. To be honest, I didn’t much care for the leader and was a little worried she was being held against her will, but I didn’t get the impression that was the case once I spoke to her. She assured me she was fine,” Art said. “Just didn’t fit in.”

  Austin fought down the emotions rolling through him. “Thank you for talking with her. I can’t tell you how good it is to hear she’s okay. I’ve been worried sick about her.”

  The man stepped down off the porch away from his niece and nephew, gesturing Austin to the side for a quieter word. “Listen, I don’t want to worry you, but what happened to my brother, that’s been happening all over. I told my brother to be careful, but he wouldn’t listen. Those heretics are roaming savages,” he said, shaking his head. “I had no idea my brother had been killed. I would have gone into town to get the kids.”

  Austin nodded, his throat tight. “Thank you for the information. Take care of yourselves,” he said, taking one last look before moving back to the horses.

  Amanda quickly re-secured the gear in the cart and climbed into her saddle. They waved goodbye and headed back toward the town they’d seen and bypassed in favor of getting these kids to their new home. Austin felt lighter now, elated to know Savannah was in good health. Well, two weeks ago, she had been. He prayed Loveridge was keeping his mouth shut.

  He’d kill the guy if he put his daughter in danger.

  21

  Austin and Amanda plodded along. He couldn’t dismiss the feeling of foreboding he felt, more and more, the closer they got to the town spread out below them. They’d passed a sign announcing that the town had a booming population of ten thousand residents. It wasn’t exactly a metropolis, but Austin hoped there was still some scavenging to be done. They were running critically low on food, and trade was their best method of getting food since they had to keep moving.

  Amanda was confident she could hunt for wild game, but Austin just wasn’t willing to stay put long enough. He wanted to keep going. Now that he knew they were trailing behind Savannah, he was energized to keep pushing harder. He could deal with his aching leg—what he couldn’t deal with was being separated from his daughter for much longer. Plus, they had an advantage of being on horseback while the Loveridge crew was on foot. Once again, he couldn’t help thinking that the cart was only slowing them down.

  “We need to think about leaving the cart,” he started.

  “No.”

  “We’ll be able to move faster. We can trade it for some food,” he reasoned.

&
nbsp; “Austin, the cart is allowing us to carry more supplies. It’s keeping us off the ground at night. We’re making good time, and the cart isn’t slowing us down that much,” she said irritably, her eyes remaining focused on the town ahead of them.

  “It isn’t your kid we’re chasing. I think you’d feel differently if you were in my shoes,” he grouched.

  “I’m sick of you using that excuse. I’m with you, and that should mean something. I do care about you finding your daughter. Can’t we leave it at that?”

  He opened his mouth to argue but snapped it shut almost immediately, squinting into the distance and urging Raven forward. He’d been right, he saw after a moment—they were being greeted. “Up ahead,” he said, just loudly enough to be heard over the cart.

  She nodded, having just spied the men who were stepping onto the road. “Crap,” she muttered as several more people joined the few men who’d already gathered in their path.

  They drew their horses to a stop at the very edge of town, facing off with the group ahead of them. “We don’t want any trouble,” he said.

  A man stepped forward. “Nice horses.”

  Amanda’s hand went to the weapon on her side, and Austin mentally willed her to leave it be. They were outnumbered and would never make it out of a face-off alive.

  “We’re passing through,” Amanda said.

  “What about the cart? What’s in it?” the man asked.

  “Personal stuff. Nothing of any value,” Austin replied.