The Pulse Effex Series: Box Set

by L. R. Burkard

  They had reached a former pet shop which previously sold live animals along with other pet supplies. It still had cages and feed and hay and animal toys. And the source of the stench. Inside some of the cages were the rotting remains of dead animals.

  “Why didn’t anyone just let them out after the pulse?” Roper asked, softly. His eyes were full of glinting sorrow.

  Jared said, “It happened in the dead of winter. Probably no one got here for days afterward. The animals would have frozen to death or been dehydrated by then.” Muttering beneath his breath he added, “I’m surprised no one ate them.”

  He again handed Roper the reins and quickly went through the place, grabbing leather leashes, dog chews, treats, and even flea medicine. When he’d stashed it all in a pack, they moved on.

  “We’ll pick up a few cages on the return trip,” Jared said. “They can be used for traps, or scrapped for metal.”

  Roper was trying not to puke behind the bandana. Jared sure had a strong stomach. He gave a dry heave and Jared sent appraising eyes at him. “Dead animals getting to ya? Save it. You’ll need it for worse than this.”

  “I’ve seen worse,” Roper said, quietly. “I hope not to again.”

  Jared gave a low whistle. “Until this ends, there’s no guarantee of that.”

  “I know.”

  They continued down one aisle and another, each turning at the end and opening onto the next. Eventually the stench lessened. Jared said, “So how come you still believe in God? After seeing what happened? So many people dying?”

  Roper was silent for a minute. “You’ve been to war,” he said, “right?”

  Jared said. “Yup. Iraq and Afghanistan.”

  “Did you see a lot of death?”

  “Enough.”

  “Did it make you stop believing in God?”

  Jared didn’t answer immediately, but raised his head, thinking. “I’m not sure I ever believed in God.”

  “Do you believe in evil?”

  Jared snorted. “I guess so.”

  “How can there be evil, how could you recognize evil, if you didn’t also know and recognize good? God is good—and all good things come from him.”

  And then a loud crack and an impact behind them sent the men scurrying for cover. The sound echoed off the walls, making it difficult—even for Jared—to tell what caliber shot it was, or how far the shooter might be. A second shot sent Roper’s horse Scarlett crashing to the ground, whinnying in pain, while Roper scurried out of the way. Jared turned off his lamp and stowed it. Both men drew their rifles and cocked them, preparing to shoot.

  Chapter 14

  ROPER

  Roper waited, his rifle at the ready. The mare had taken the bullet in a wither and was bleeding heavily, not trying to rise. He patted her helplessly, wishing he could do something for her but first they needed to know where the shots had come from—and if more were forthcoming.

  Only silence ensued.

  Looking at Scarlett’s wound, a flare of anger went through him. Horses were valuable and needed for riding and work. Shooting one was just plain mean—or foolish. Some people were desperate enough to see a horse as their next meal, though. He wondered if that was the case now.

  After listening and watching for tense minutes and hearing nothing, Jared murmured, “We need to move; we’re gonna stay low, take it nice and slow, and see what we’re up against.”

  “What about Scarlett?” asked Roper. “We can’t just leave her like this!” He had no experience with big animal husbandry, but it appeared the mare wasn’t going to get to her feet—and he didn’t want to leave her to suffer on.

  Jared took a look at the wound which was bleeding profusely. “I can’t help her and neither can you. We have to put her down or leave her this way.”

  Roper stroked the mare’s long, smooth nose, and then her neck, whispering soothingly. Frowning, he gently laid aside the rifle and drew his Glock. Putting the gun against her head, wincing, he was about to shoot, when Jared hissed, “No!”

  “You said we have to!” Roper shot back in a whisper of equal caliber. “She’s in pain!”

  “Not yet.” Jared was staring ahead, in the direction the shot had come from. “You shot our horse, moron!” he suddenly yelled out.

  Roper stared at Jared, surprised he would try to “engage the enemy.” A few seconds passed, and what came to their ears next was a complete surprise.

  “I’m—I’m sorry!” It was the agonized voice of a woman. The men exchanged surprised glances. What should they do? Roper made a movement as if to rise, but Jared motioned him back.

  “It’s a woman!” Roper said.

  “I doubt she’s alone,” Jared replied, his lips tight.

  “Tell her we have to put down the horse; that we’re not firing at her.”

  Jared eyed him steadily, as if considering whether to agree. He glanced at Scarlett, then shouted, “We have to put down the horse. We’re not shooting at you!”

  “Okay!”

  Roper, meanwhile, had plugged his ears and with a sigh, after re-positioning the handgun, closed his eyes and made the shot.

  “Whoa!” Jared had to keep his horse from taking off at the noise. After the echo had reverberated around them in a deafening cacophony, another sound came faintly to their ears: running feet. Listening hard, Jared murmured, “She’s running away, not towards us.”

  Roper said, “Maybe she was alone.”

  “I’m gonna go after her.”

  “What for?”

  “To take her down, what else?”

  “Let ‘er go! C’mon.”

  “She could be running for help,” Jared said.

  “Look, let’s get through this place and get out of here. If you go after her, I could lose you.” In truth, Roper wasn’t worried about losing Jared. But he’d say anything in order to save that woman’s life.

  Finally, Jared shrugged. “Whatever. If she brings back company, don’t say I didn’t warn you. C’mon, let’s move.”

  Roper leaned over Scarlett, giving her lifeless head one last stroke. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. When she’d fallen from the shot, it was right onto one of the saddle bags. Both men had to work to get it free. Afterward, Roper hoisted them onto his shoulders, while Jared switched the lantern back on.

  Roper grabbed the festoon of flowers and draped it across Jared’s horse. Jared grabbed it and threw it roughly to the side. “Get that off my horse!”

  Roper eyed him silently. “The girls would’ve liked that.”

  “Weapons first. When we got that covered, you can stock up on pantyhose for all I care. But weapons first.” Jared moved on, but behind him Roper quickly grabbed the garland and swept it into his pack, except that a foot-long stretch of it remained dangling out. He ignored it, quickening his steps to keep up with Jared.

  “Hold onto my horse,” Jared said suddenly, handing him the reins. “While I check out this aisle. In case there’s some other moron in here. Hang tight.” He took off surreptitiously, making as quick a reconnaissance of the aisle as possible. Roper, meanwhile, noticed that the booth he stood in front of held antique prints, posters, books and newspapers. In the past, he’d have happily perused the boxes of printed matter. He had a great collection of old song sheets back in California.

  Why not? He entered the stall, leading the horse. As he held the lantern over the boxes of prints, his eyes lit with a sudden gleam and he headed to the back of the booth. He was rummaging through dusty boxes of stuff when Jared said from the aisle. “What are you doing? C’mon. It’s clear.”

  “Hold on,” said Roper, who continued to pore through a large box. Jared watched him, silent and frowning.

  “I was right!” Roper exclaimed. “These are Ohio Yellow Pages, not too old, either.”

  “And what, pray, do we need Yellow Pages for?” Jared’s dry question merely brought a smile to Roper’s face.

  “To find the nearest pyrotechnics factory,” he stated, calmly. Jared’s expression ch
anged.

  “Bring it out here,” he said.

  In seconds they were scanning the pages by the light of the lantern. But shortly Jared threw the book down in disgust. “The nearest one’s twenty-five, thirty miles away. We can’t risk going that far.”

  “I walked more than two hundred miles before I came to the compound,” Roper said. “We can do thirty.”

  Jared eyed him with his usual steely look. “Where’d you walk from?”

  “Pittsburgh.”

  Jared shook his head. “Was that place a mess?”

  Roper nodded, his eyes darkening. “Crazy, man. Crazy.” They resumed walking, their eyes roaming the garbage-strewn stalls as they passed.

  “So how long did it take you to get here?” Jared asked.

  “About five months. We headed out four days after the pulse hit. I made a few lengthy stops, and still got to the compound by June, so—.”

  “We?”

  “Me and my worship band.”

  “So where’s your band?”

  The men faced each other. For the first time a glimmer in Jared’s eyes hinted at softening.

  “One of ‘em died; the rest? I don’t know,” he said. “But I got here, and I was alone most of the way. Together, we can—.”

  “We don’t have five months,” Jared said.

  “We don’t need to walk two hundred miles.”

  “But thirty there—and thirty back—plus the danger. Plus, no guarantee that someone else hasn’t already raided the place for the same reason we want to.”

  “Fine. Let’s look for stores that might have sold fireworks,” Roper said.

  “I have a better idea. We’re in farm country. Let’s find a farm or farm supply store.”

  “They’ll be emptied out,” Roper said.

  “Most people aren’t looking for stump remover or saltpeter. If we get some of that and add it to fertilizer I can make us a nice little package for the next foreign army trucks that come at us. Even foil if we can grind it up, can help.”

  At that moment Jared glanced at the garland dangling from Roper’s bag. His look of disgust was quickly followed by a grab for it—he pulled it out and dashed it to the floor, giving Roper a contemptuous sneer as he did so.

  Roper, undaunted, bent down to retrieve the garland—and at that precise moment a loud shot came ringing at them, landing with a thwack in the wall behind them, missing Roper only because he’d made that swipe. Jared shut off the lantern and slapped his horse in the rear, sending it into the stall to their right. “Stay down!” he said, curtly.

  Roper had no intention of doing otherwise. Crouching low, he slowly moved so that he was in the doorway of the stall with Jared beside him. “We gotta get outta here, man,” Roper breathed. “We’re just sitting ducks.”

  “Lots of these stalls have back doors,” Jared said. “The proprietors use them to load and unload their goods.” He headed to the back of the booth, stopping only to take the reins of the horse. There was no door.

  “The bigger ones have the doors,” Jared said. “C’mon.”

  At the threshold of the main aisle they hesitated, listening. Jared guided the animal ahead of them, out into the aisle. He motioned Roper to follow, but he refused.

  “We need that horse. Don’t put him out there in harm’s way.”

  “Better the horse than one of us,” Jared said.

  “If we do find the right stuff, we’ll need him to cart it back.”

  Jared hesitated. Meanwhile sounds started up, coming their way.

  “Which one of you fired that shot?” A man’s voice demanded.

  “It was Timmy!” Another voice said.

  “Take his gun,” the man replied. A scuffle ensued and they heard a young man’s voice. “It was an accident! I’m sorry! I won’t let it happen again!”

  “You sure won’t because you won’t have a gun,” said the first voice.

  Jared whispered, “You’d think this place is Grand Central Station! But they don’t know we’re here. C’mon, quietly.”

  They slunk out into the main aisle, going in the opposite direction of the voices, back the way they’d come. When they turned the aisle into a cross lane, they quickened their pace, putting more distance between them and the others.

  They continued straight, passing aisle after aisle until they reached the last one and there found an exit door at the back of the first stall. Outside they moved quickly down the road, getting off it to cross a field as soon as the terrain was suitable.

  “This is crazy,” Roper said, now that they were safely out of earshot. “We just lost a valuable animal and we had two close calls in there… The stuff you need...it’s not just sitting around waiting to be found!”

  Jared turned a twisted smile to Roper. “That’s the beauty of IEDs; the stuff IS just waiting around.”

  “Maybe before the pulse—but not now.”

  “I’m telling you, it’s out here. We’ll check barns and storage sheds.”

  “You think people are just going to let you mosey on into their barns or storage buildings? The ones with these supplies...they’re farmers, man. They had food, dried grain, they’re still here. It’s the city people who didn’t make it...I know, I’ve seen it.” Roper shuddered. “But these people have survived and they will want to keep what they’ve got.”

  “Most barns aren’t right next to the house. We’ll go in at night.”

  Roper shook his head. “These bombs—.”

  “IEDs.”

  “IEDs—Fine. You said you needed special chemicals to make those mean things, right?”

  “Give me a bunch of stuff you could have bought at your nearest drug store and I’ll make you an IED.”

  “Barns aren’t drug stores.”

  Jared sniffed. “You’d be surprised.”

  “Why don’t we just go for the cars, the airbags, like you said? We can head back and hit every vehicle on the way.”

  Jared was silent a moment. “We came this far and I can use this other stuff, too.” He paused. “Besides, we’re getting closer to Andrea’s house.” Roper had forgotten about that! He didn’t argue further.

  They crossed a ravine, went up the other side and came upon a farm. At first sight it looked abandoned; the tall grass that characterized property now that lawn mowers didn’t work made it seem so, but they soon noticed wisps of smoke, just visible against the sunny sky, coming from around the back.

  Jared pointed to the right. There was a barn about two hundred feet from the house. Painted the quintessential barn red and bearing a quilt square design on one side, it sat looking bucolic and downright pretty. Beside it was a large fenced pasture where the grass was uneven but short. That meant cattle. Without farm animals the grass would have been above knee-high by now, like it was most everywhere else. The formerly neat homes and yards of suburbs and countryside looked very much like post-apocalyptic America.

  They remained in the ravine for cover. Jared led them towards dense brush which had Roper leading the horse around thick branches and twiny vines until Jared stopped and took a deep breath. “We’re out of sight. We’ll wait here until dark, watch for movement, and then check out the barn.”

  “Wait for dark!” exclaimed Roper. “That’s hours away, yet.”

  “You got a better idea?” Jared asked, lazily.

  Roper surveyed the farmhouse. “Yeah; we ask them if they have the stuff we need. Maybe they’ll give it to us.”

  Jared snorted. “Look, even if they’ve got no earthly use for what I want, as soon as you tell them we want it, they’re gonna want it, too.”

  “Let’s trade something.”

  “Like what?”

  “Labor. Let’s do some work and earn the stuff.”

  Jared shook his head, spitting out a piece of grass that had found its way to his mouth. “You’re kidding, right? That won’t change anything. If we say what we want they’re gonna want to know why we want it. If we tell them, they’ll want it too.”

  �
�They won’t know what to do with it, or how to do it.”

  “They’ll try anyway. Wouldn’t you?”

  Roper sighed. “No. I guess. I don’t know.”

  Jared said, “I’ll take a quick look around for wild edibles; stay here and watch the horse.”

  Roper sighed heavily. He’d hoped their mission might be accomplished a lot faster. But he thought back to how far he’d come, his “legendary” trek from Pittsburgh to south-western Ohio, and how God had provided for him each step of the way.

  God. Had he even prayed since they’d hit the road? He bowed his head to do so; and then hesitated. Could one pray to obtain stuff if it meant taking it from someone else? No, there had to be a better way! Well, that was it, wasn’t it?

  A better way. That’s what he would pray for.

  Chapter 15

  SARAH

  As I stared out at the growing plumes of flame and smoke shooting out of the barn, Tex drew me away from the window, his eyes creased with worry. He lowered the metal shade—it still worked on that half of the window—and exclaimed, “That barn is gonna blow! I got all that stuff in there to make explosives! Fertilizer and stump remover and—” An enormous boom interrupted him, followed by shouts, falling debris, and then another, smaller explosion. We heard things hitting the ground, and the thudding of running feet. I tried to take a look—all I could see was smoke and flames.

  “I can’t believe they got past all the new traps,” Richard muttered, his lips tight.

  I understood his frustration. He and Tex had laid down leg shackles, which were big animal traps, ready to spring. They’d dug new pits and set two new rope traps, the kind that caught Richard and sent him hanging helplessly upside-down when we’d tried to pass through this property. None of it had prevented this.

  Tex, frowning, started issuing orders. “Weapon up! Turn the table over for cover! Richard, come with me.”