The Pulse Effex Series: Box Set

by L. R. Burkard

  “I’ll bet they cleaned them out and that’s why they came to us, now!” she cried, still wiping a tear from her face.

  “No, hon; they followed Richard here.”

  “That was Doris’s hat!” Angel insisted. “I just know she’s been killed!” Her voice broke, and Tex put an arm around her. The four of us continued to stare out, watching as the last of the marauders disappeared into the woods.

  Tex pulled Angel into an embrace. “We’ll check on Doris and Tim when it’s safe.” He paused. “Let’s just hope this band suffered enough here not to come back.”

  Richard stared silently out at the now empty field. “They didn’t suffer enough.” He shook his head. “We should have wiped them out before they even got close.”

  Angel came to us tearfully that night, holding her Bible against her chest. “I’m sorry I killed that woman,” she said. “It’s God’s job to get revenge, not mine. I shouldn’t have done it—that hat just made me sure they’d killed Doris!” She shook her head, and a few tears ran silently down her face.

  “How do you know it was Doris’s hat?” I asked.

  Angel looked at me with somber, tortured eyes. “Why would anyone be wearing a hat now, in June, unless they just got it?” She paused. “Besides, I can tell it’s Doris’s.” She shut her eyes, holding back tears. “I made her that hat.”

  “Well, you didn’t kill her,” I said, trying to help. “I saw her moving when they picked her up.”

  Angel shook her head. “Injuring her might be even worse. They can’t exactly take her to the nearest hospital! I’ve made them mad.”

  After a heavy pause, she added, “Now they’ll want revenge—and it’s all my fault!”

  Chapter 4

  SARAH

  We took turns keeping watch, and stayed in the house for the rest of the day except for a tense hour while Tex and Richard checked to see if we had any chickens left. The barn had been locked but was broken into. It worried Tex that the marauders had seen Daisy the mule.

  “She was loose,” he said, “which means they tried to take her. I scratched behind her ears and sweet talked her; got her tied up again.” He looked at us. “Thank God she’s ‘stubborn as a mule,’ and won’t go with a stranger—or we’d have lost her.”

  We were all glad Daisy was still with us. But Tex figures that gang wasn’t starving—or they’d have killed her for meat. Maybe they still planned on returning to do that.

  Out of all our chickens, only three were found. Two were missed by the marauders because they’d been foraging in dense shrubs behind the cabin, and one was on top of the coop. Angel was downcast about losing the rest. Eggs were an important part of our diets and, unless we found a rooster somewhere, the three hens would eventually stop laying and we’d be out of luck.

  It was hard to see Angel, who was mostly a happy person, walking around with a frown. She’d come through the EMP—which meant the loss of so much like electricity, transportation, communication, and technology—without losing her customary optimism. But somehow the attack on the cabin had chipped it away. Kole hadn’t returned and the loss of the chickens, the damage to the house and the close call we’d had with marauders—plus that Doris and Tim were likely dead—were all taking their toll. I told her how sorry I was. She looked surprised for a moment and then searched my face.

  “It’s O.K., Sarah. I’ll bounce back.” Her smile was sad. “I always do. I just need to get alone with God for awhile. The Lord has a way of changing my perspective about things.” She took a deep breath. “And I’m thankful, really, that we’re alive.”

  Towards evening we spotted a new black plume in the sky in the north. Tex estimated the fire was within a mile or two of us. That made me nervous because I had to wonder if those foreign soldiers were in the area. Like the ones that burned up the last house Richard and I stayed in for awhile. But Tex thinks the fire is a sign of that gang who attacked us, still in the vicinity.

  Anyway, Tex and Richard moved the three last chickens and their nesting boxes into the back storage room of the cabin. Tex said they’d build a shed right up against the house for the animals so it would be easy to take them inside in the future.

  “Bring the mule in the house?” I asked.

  “Only when we have to.” He chuckled at my astonishment. “You know, in Jesus’s day, the residents of a house slept in the upper floor and the roof—while the ground level was for animals, to keep ‘em safe from thieves at night. Looks like we need to go back to first century practices to keep our animals safe. But see, it ain’t that unusual.”

  “It will be, for you,” I said. “You don’t have a second floor. I’m used to barn smells from sleeping in the loft—so is Richard. But I think you’ll have some adjusting to do.”

  Angel smiled. “I can do that. It’ll be worth it to keep our last livestock.”

  “In the meantime,” said Tex, “we’ll only let them out where it’s fenced.” We had a large fenced-in area behind and to one side of the cabin that was primarily “dog domain,” a place for them to be outdoors without us worrying about them taking off. That reminded us of Kole, who had not returned.

  Tex looked at Angel. “I’ll take a look for Kole tomorrow.”

  She shook her head. “No, you won’t. If he’s alive, he’ll come back. If he’s not—there’s no sense risking your neck.”

  “We’re going out to lay new traps so I’ll just keep a look for him while we’re out there.”

  I hope Kole is alive! Even though the cabin is more crowded than ever with chickens in the storage room, and the hallway crammed with boxes and totes we moved to make space for them. I’d been sleeping on the sofa at night since Richard left—and now I was gladder than ever about that. The cabin withstood the attack, but the barn hadn’t. The industrial, heavy-duty lock on the barn door had held despite being tampered with, but they’d got in anyway, by hacking a big hole right through a wall. I wouldn’t feel safe out there anymore.

  Now I’d be sharing the front room with Richard, I supposed, because he wouldn’t be safe in the barn, either. I’d always found it strange that the cabin had only one bedroom. I once asked Angel why they didn’t have at least two and she said the cabin was built as a “getaway” house, not a place to entertain friends or family. Angel and Tex had lived elsewhere before the pulse. I tried to get her to talk about it, their home, and where they’d come from, but all I got was an impression. The impression was that they’d had plenty of money, more than one home, and had built this safe house “just in case.”

  When the EMP took down the grid, that “just in case” became home.

  The totes from the storage room remained in the hallway, which looked like a loading dock. It still defied reason to me, because I saw no means of ever getting all that stuff away from the house if we had to make a run for it. But I did get a chance to read labels I’d never seen before such as, “Work Gloves, Cleaning Supplies, Extra Socks.” Others were full of things I did know about, like tissues and toilet paper and napkins—precious as gold now that stores weren’t around. The totes were wonderfully reassuring because their contents made the difference between feeling like primitive campers or comfortable ones. But what if we had to leave the cabin? We’d be on the run again! I dreaded the thought.

  We’d had to survive, Richard and I, for months without paper goods or any new supplies, without decent food or enough water. It was blissful not to live like that anymore. I admired the McAllisters for their foresight—but I wished I knew how their “Plan B” could help us keep it all.

  While Richard and the dogs kept watch, Tex hauled in some water—using a plastic bucket because our steel one had vanished, and Angel began to prepare a simple supper of beans and rice. I set the table. We were all trying to pretend things were normal but nothing felt normal.

  As if reading my mind, Tex said, “We’ll get the critters into a new shed as soon as possible and move you and Richard into that room.” He paused. “For tonight, you’ll both have to m
ake do in the front room here.”

  Richard had grabbed everything remaining of our meager belongings from the loft but I’d already moved my important stuff into my backpack, which I always kept near me. Even before the attack I was still in an “apocalypse mentality” you might say, and I wore my backpack if I went anywhere on the property. In addition to its holding my two-way, I just felt like every little thing was precious. I didn’t want to risk losing anything.

  It had grown heavy and Angel admonished me more than once that I wasted energy carrying it all around when I already had so much work to do. But I wanted all of it—my water bottles, granola bars, tissues, flashlight, extra batteries, pepper spray, needle and thread, scissors, band-aids, antibiotic lotion, my journal, a pen and a pencil, a ponytail holder, nail clipper, matches, and floss. The floss was for fishing line but now and then I couldn’t resist the urge to clean my teeth. I have a toothbrush which I keep in the cabin (thanks to Angel) but on those rare occasions when I floss—ah!

  Richard did still have things in the barn that he hadn’t taken with him when he left us—an extra shirt and socks, and I don’t know what else but it was all there. The marauders hadn’t bothered with the loft, probably because most held nothing but hay.

  Tex spent more than an hour trying to flatten the bubble in the metal shade that hadn’t worked during the attack. He couldn’t seem to get it flat enough, or something else was preventing it from working. Finally, he nailed some boards across the opening. “Tomorrow,” he said to Richard, “we brick up this window.”

  “Oh, hon, that’ll make it so dark in here!” cried Angel. “We’ll have to use up more candles and batteries just to see what we’re doing.”

  “Dark and safe,” he said. But he nodded towards Richard and we saw that my brother had fallen asleep at the table. He hadn’t even made it over to the corner of the room where we laid his sleeping bag. His head was on his arms, his face to one side, and he was sleeping like a baby.

  “He’s exhausted,” said Angel, softly. “Think about it—he got home this morning in bad shape and then he fought with us and went out with you to the barn—my goodness, he probably needs a week of sleep to catch up.”

  “Well, he can’t sleep for a week,” said Tex. “He can’t sleep more than a night. I’ll need his help tomorrow. We’ve got repairs to make, and that shed to build.” He paused, took a sip of water and added, “Besides rigging up a whole lot of new traps. I don’t trust that bunch to stay gone for long. Not when they got all those chickens here and saw the mule.”

  By next morning I felt less imperiled—daylight does wonderful things for even the worst problems—but we stayed on “red alert,” watching and listening for signs of intruders. After breakfast, we finally got to hear Richard’s tale of woe. I wanted to know everything.

  “So what happened out there to make you come back to us?” Tex said, as though he understood it could not have been Richard’s ideal course of action. We all knew he’d high-tailed it out of here as if he couldn’t wait to get away.

  Angel and I were clearing dishes to soak them in the sink but we went to the table to listen. Tex had tried to get the story before we ate but Angel had clucked her tongue and said, “I want to hear, too, but Richard needs to eat, first, hon.”

  Richard nodded at her. “Thanks.”

  “You’re still not lookin’ too good,” she told him cheerfully. She served us fried eggs and corn cakes in a cast iron griddle still smoking from the woodstove—making the room “hot as Hades,” as Tex said; but we all ate like people starving, Richard especially.

  Afterwards, he told his story. He’d gone away to get to our aunt’s farm—that much we knew already. He said he not only wanted to see if Aunt Susan was still alive but to find out if by some chance our father had made his way there. He needed to know—he admitted a little sheepishly—if there was another place where he and I could live.

  Angel surveyed him sadly. “You didn’t even say goodbye.” I realized I wasn’t the only one who felt abandoned. Richard and I needed the McAllisters a heck of a lot more than they needed us but I was glad to see that Angel had come to care for my brother.

  Richard was silent a moment, eying her with surprise. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “He didn’t say goodbye to me, either,” I piped in, hoping to make her feel better. I gave Richard a brief scowl to show I resented that.

  Tex said, “Go on.”

  Richard took a deep breath. “Going was slow. Gangs just popped up out of the blue. One minute I’d think I was alone and then in the next, I’d be running for my life. I didn’t take much food with me and I ran out fast. That wouldn’t have stopped me but I knew the trek was getting longer each time I had to detour to avoid a gang—or once, even a couple of army trucks.”

  “United States Army?” Angel asked, hopefully.

  Richard shook his head. “I don’t think so. I had to duck out of sight so I couldn’t really watch. But Sarah and I saw lots of those trucks in the past and I don’t think they’re good news.”

  We’d already told the McAllisters about the refugee camps, so they nodded, but Angel said, “Oh,” with disappointment in her voice.

  “So, anyway, I had to keep leaving the roads in order not to be seen, and walking at night wasn’t helping—seems like there’s a lot of activity now at night. People are using torches as well as flashlights and I kept finding myself in the middle of scratchy bushes or marshy ground to get away from them. And the bugs! They were eating me alive.”

  It was true. He had red bumps everywhere. “I’m good at dodging,” Richard continued. “Most of the time no one ever knew when I was near.” He sounded proud of that fact even though he’d come back with a gang at his heels.

  “Evidently this last time I was wrong—I guess they were on me. But I swear I didn’t know, I thought I’d lost them. Usually, they stick together and aren’t stealthy so I would have heard them following. I don’t know how they did it without my hearing them.”

  “Probably had a tracker. So most of them would have hung back far enough for you not to hear,” Tex said. He took a gulp of coffee. I shuddered for Richard, recalling not only the gangs of marauders we’d seen before coming to the McAllisters’, but also at the memory of the garish painted faces yesterday. I was glad they hadn’t caught my brother—even if he had led them here while they tried.

  “Why would they follow him?” I asked. “They didn’t know he’d lead them to a homestead with supplies.”

  No one had an answer to that.

  “What else are people up to?” Tex asked.

  Richard took a deep breath and shook his head. “The ones in the camps just mill around a lot or stay in their tents. The ones on the road seem to be on the move like I was. Moving in camps, heading south from what I could tell.” He paused, thinking. “I wanted to join one.” His voice fell as he remembered. “They were heading west; mostly men. I only saw a few kids and women.” He glanced pointedly at me and Angel. “I don’t know if the women stay put while the men look for food and supplies—or if fewer of them survived.” He looked at Angel as if she might solve the riddle. “But since there were a lot more men than women, I figured they wouldn’t want any more.” He ran a hand through his hair.

  “So anyway, I was skirting around this one camp when someone saw me and started shooting.” He looked ahead, lost in the memory and said, “I’ve got two bullet holes in my backpack from that.” His eyes darted to survey us. “Two bullet holes—they went clean through my pack and didn’t even graze me!”

  “Praise the Lord for that,” said Angel.

  “I don’t know why they didn’t hit me.” He shook his head. “I must have been moving in such a way that my pack fell to one side and that’s when the bullets went through.”

  “I know why they didn’t hit you,” Angel countered, with eyes softly shining. “God was watching out for you.”

  Richard met her gaze evenly but said nothing. He swallowed and then continued the sto
ry. “I thought they just wanted to scare me off because no one chased me that I could tell. I ran for a long time just in case. After about a mile I had to slow down.” He was pensive for a moment. “I guess you could say I collapsed. I thought it was good Sarah wasn’t with me.” He looked from Tex to Angel, and with a very uncharacteristic sheen in his eyes, added softly, “I was thinking it was a good thing she had you.”

  They nodded. I wondered if they knew those words hadn’t come easily for my brother. He was not especially strong in the praise or thanks department.

  “I was hungry and thirsty and getting nowhere fast, so I decided to head back.” In a gruff tone, he said, “I realized out there how amazing it is that you took us in.” Lowering his eyes, he said, “Thank you for that.” He raised his gaze. “Thank you for everything.”

  Those words seemed to break the ice and suddenly everything felt cozier, as if Richard had never left, almost like we were going to be a happy family. I must have been grinning from ear to ear, because Richard glanced at me and broke into a sheepish grin of his own. “You’re smiling!” I cried, reaching my arm across the table to pat his arm. Even as unkempt and rough as he was, he looked sweet and cute when he smiled. “I like to see you smile.” Everybody was smiling now, if you could call Tex’s sparkling eyes a smile. He isn’t a smiley sort of person. But his eyes were happy.

  “Well, Richard,” Tex said. “We’re glad to have you back. I know you need to catch up on your rest so you can turn in early again, but first, we’ve got a lot to do.”

  I figured Tex was referring to the usual amount of cumbersome work it took to run the homestead but he wasn’t. Richard had carefully bypassed all the booby traps on the property—the ones Angel and Tex had set against wandering marauders—showing the gang how to do it, too. Now they were probably useless, at least against this group. Some could be moved. Others, such as the deep pit I’d fallen into, had to be duplicated.