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Destination Ruin: A Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Story (EMP Survivors Book 2)

Page 14

by Norman Christof


  Sam knew he was, but was pretty sure Gary wasn't. At first, Sam felt guilty about leaving him like that. He tried, he thought. He tried to get him to come back, to pick up his pace, but the man just couldn't do it.

  Sam took a quick right down the next small alleyway and luckily saw that it led out into a deserted street. He couldn't be sure but truly hoped that Gary had turned the opposite way and done the same. Every man for himself right now, Sam thought to himself.

  "Don't worry, fat man," Sam said to Gary silently under his breath. "I'll come and get you if I can."

  Chapter 20 ~ Tough Girl

  Veronica was terrified. It was dark, and she could hardly breathe. The heavy cloth that covered her head and face made her perspire profusely. She thought back to the calming waves in the pool and wondered why she hadn't followed her instincts. Would that really have been worse than the situation she was in now?

  She walked blind, forced from behind by men she couldn't see and stumbled over unseen obstacles. She'd fallen once already and managed to get her hands out just in time before hitting the ground. There was someone else with her. She figured it was either Sam or Gary, but couldn't be sure. They didn't allow them to speak. Not now.

  The man with her had tried to escape, and as a result their captors bound their hands behind their backs and gagged them. If she fell now, she'd have no way of stopping herself before she hit the pavement. She hoped her captors weren't cruel enough to let her hit the ground face first.

  Finally, they stopped. She could hear the other captive breathing hard through his hood. He was clearly more frantic than she was. Veronica felt at first that something was wrong with her because she wasn't in a panic. Right now, she didn't care. Self-preservation wasn't high on her list of priorities at the moment. She just wanted this to be done with.

  The end of the world? Armageddon? Apocalypse? None of these concepts had any meaning to Veronica. She never even thought about the possibility. Not like those people she'd heard about who were always planning for the most catastrophic of events that never came to pass.

  That wasn't the way, Veronica thought. She lived in the moment. For her, planning for the future meant finding ways to improve herself as a person, not stocking up on a warehouse full of supplies. She decided long ago, she'd control the things she could. Not those she couldn't.

  They pulled off her hood, but not the hood of the other captive. She recognized Gary's clothing. She wanted to say something to reassure Gary but she was still gagged. Gary struggled and tried to run away again. No one tried to stop him. Having no idea where he was going, he ran towards a very tall man. Gary would have slammed into the tall man if the man hadn't stepped sideways to avert the collision. Additionally, the man stuck his foot out, tripping Gary and sending him sprawling face first into the road. He twisted his body as he fell to prevent himself from hitting face first, but it wasn't enough. He side of his head hit the ground hard as his attempted escape came to a painful end. He twitched a few times and moaned.

  The tall man walked to Veronica. She stared at him blankly, showing no emotions. The man smiled.

  "It's funny, you know," the tall man said. "This isn't the way I would've seen this going down. The big guy running like a baby and the little girl acting like the grown-up. Shouldn't you be more scared?"

  Veronica didn't know what to say. This wasn't a situation she had ever experienced. She didn't even like watching those TV shows that portrayed people who acted like this.

  "Oh, pardon me," the tall man said. He motioned to one of the other men and they removed Veronica's gag. "There you go. That's much more polite of me now, isn't it?" He crossed his arms across his chest. "You can cry, scream or plead for your life. Any one of the above. Feel free. It's the least I can do for you after your long trip here."

  Veronica did none of the above.

  "I had a feeling that would be your response. You don't seem like the frantic flight type. You're all self-controlled and thoughtful." The man tried to scratch a spot on his back that he couldn't quite reach. "You're probably more the plotting type, right? Probably got some little scheme going on in the back of your head where you sweet talk your way out of this. Just when I'm least expecting it, you're going to turn the tables and smack me over the head with a steel pipe while you make your break for it." He looked around at the crowd as if he were playing to them more than speaking to Veronica. "Right? That's what you're thinking now, isn't it? "

  "I don't understand what you want from me, or why you're doing this. Whatever it is you're doing, you should just get on with it. I don't really care about what you think of me."

  "That's funny." The big man chuckled to himself. "You don't care. Fine, we can do it that way."

  He walked over to Veronica and undid the ropes binding her hands. They stood and stared at each other. The man moved forward aggressively, but Veronica didn't flinch. It wasn't that she was terribly brave, she'd just resolved to let the situation play out however it would. Control what she could and don't worry about the rest.

  The big man turned her around by the shoulders and motioned to the ground behind her. It was stained red. There were bugs crawling all around as if they'd found some invisible food source.

  "Look," the tall man said. "You can't go breaking into places that aren't yours, taking whatever you want. This is not that kind of town. Not when it's under my control." He smiled, looking around at the others with him. They all nodded back. "There are consequences. This ground here wasn't always red. This—" He looked to the others with him again, waiting for their agreement. They nodded and smiled. "This isn't just someone else's blood spilled on the ground. This is consequences. Real consequences."

  Chapter 21 ~ Man Up

  These weren't the kind of decisions that Garrett was used to making. Life and death certainly weren't a daily concern. Working on a construction site is not without its dangers and risks, but those are mitigated. Safety rules and protocols are in place that if adhered to, ensure the safety of those involved. Worrying about, people living or dying because some miserable bastard has murderous intent in their heart, is an entirely other thing.

  Garrett paced around the cars in the parking garage, taking his time, not wandering too far. He checked out the numerous sounds he kept hearing. In all probability, it was rats or raccoons or some other big varmint that was banging into things then scurrying for cover. For the time being, at least they hadn't found anything ominous. At least not in the parking garage.

  There were some pretty nice cars there in the garage. Clearly, some high rollers visited the nearby casino. Garrett thought, how much fun it might be to take one of these vehicles out for a spin. Unfortunately, that wasn't part of the current plan.

  To say that things had pushed Garrett to a tipping point, would be an understatement. He was pissed beyond anything he could remember. Garrett never usually got upset. At least not the way he saw himself. His staff didn't always, but some people had a hard time differentiating between anger and focus.

  But today, it really burned him, that every step they took was thwarted by people with less than honorable intentions. The YMCA had everything they needed. Everything they needed to get the job done that Garrett wanted to get done.

  Garrett paused for a moment. He was standing in front of a bright red Lamborghini, accented by polished chrome rims with crisp red trim. He wondered if he knew enough to hot-wire a Lamborghini. At the very least, it might be a fun diversion. The question would be whether or not it would even start. Given the luck they'd been running having lately, this would be the one vehicle with a decent battery that would actually sound its alarm and attract thugs to their location. Garrett imagined the throaty roar of its engine and shriek of burning rubber tires as ran his hand along the shiny red exterior. He choose to settle for that vision.

  He finally made his way back to Holly, at the mini camper van that they had found. It was a pretty nice vehicle, and they were surprised to find it unlocked. Clearly, it had been occupied by
a family by the looks of things. There were kids toys inside, appropriate for about a seven or eight year old. A boy by the looks of things. Because it was mini-sized, it would be suitable for traveling fuel efficiently, but still providing nice accommodations. It was a good place, to spend the night. It also crossed Garrett's mind, that this would be the perfect vehicle to head cross country if they could get it working. He hadn't tried to, for fear of tripping any potential alarms, but he did notice that the batteries were dead. None of the lights on the interior worked. The double bed though, was fairly comfortable.

  He found Holly sound asleep, in the back. He took a few moments to think about what the next steps should be. There were alternatives here, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to convince Holly to consider the ones he preferred. What Garrett really wanted, was to head back to the YMCA. It had been invaded he was sure, by the same group that had chased them out. That's OK, he thought to himself. He wasn't looking to stay any longer than necessary. It was rapidly becoming apparent they didn't belong here. What he did want to do, however, was stock up with provisions from the Y. The camper had a few items and foodstuffs, but he wasn't sure that be able to get it going. And even if they could get it going, what were the chances that they’d be able to get it out of the garage and down the road without being blocked by other vehicles.

  It occurred to Garrett that the option of heading off on his own and hitting the Y might be his best choice. His leg in the splint still wasn't fully healed, but the splint that Veronica had built for him was much better than what they'd rigged up before. He was getting used to walking in it.

  Given the time they'd already spend in the Y, Garrett had a pretty good idea of the layout.

  He'd need to move quickly, to capitalize on that advantage though. The thought of leaving Holly where she was, and heading out on his own, bothered him quite a bit. If he was successful, she might forgive him. Probably not, but there was a chance. If he wasn't successful, then she'd never have a chance to forgive him.

  <<<>>>

  Garrett made his way around the YMCA perimeter for the sixth time now. It was late in the day, and the shadows grew long. Which was good, because it gave him places to hide. Getting in certainly wouldn't be a problem. Those that had driven them out did a fair amount of damage in terms of breaking doors and windows. He had his choice of entrances. The trick he figured, was to pick the one that wouldn't be watched.

  There was no lacking in confidence on the part of this gang. They were pretty casual with their security, convinced they were the biggest dog in town, and that no one would challenge them. That was fine with Garrett. He'd take whatever advantage he could get at the moment. In spite of all the broken windows and doors, Garrett decided to go through the same door that he and Holly had escaped out in a panic before. He picked it, because he knew the corridor behind that door was fairly secluded, and well away from the central areas of the facility. It was less likely to be patrolled.

  Garrett made his way amongst the shadows and found that door unlocked. They were both confident and sloppy. Throw in the element of surprise and Garrett liked his chances.

  <<<>>>

  Garrett was careful, cautious almost to a fault. Sneaking quietly, as he neared the door, constantly looking behind him hoping that he hadn't been spotted yet. He liked the back door because there were no windows from the back of the building where he could be seen approaching. He pulled the handle of the latch slowly and gently, like a sneaky drunk coming home past curfew. The current occupants were likely to be less forgiving than a worried spouse roused from slumber.

  The gang inside weren't very diligent when it came to security. It was somewhat foolhardy on their part, Garrett thought. They should've known that others would eventually test them, and moved quickly to secure the supplies they wanted.

  Everything they'd seen so far in the city, should've encouraged him to get the hell out as quickly as possible. It was a mistake to have stayed so long. A mistake he won't be making again.

  Garrett gently nudged the door shut, but in spite of his best efforts, the metal on metal clanged louder than he wanted. He was concentrating intently on the latch, thinking that would make the most noise. It was silent. The door slammed because it stuck and he pulled too hard. It was just a little bit bigger than the frame, expansion from the heat and humidity.

  He crouched quietly, his back leaning against the door making himself as small as possible. He held his breath, hoping that no one had heard. The hallway was still then, and he had none of the glow sticks they'd found earlier. They'd lost everything when they'd been chased out.

  A few minutes felt like hours. No one came. He stood slowly and was now able to see a little more clearly down the hallway. His eyes had adjusted ever so slightly to the darkness as he made his way. He was fortunate that he'd been down here already. Being chased by an angry mob tends to enhance one's memory. The turns and other hallways stuck in Garrett's mind.

  Then, he heard it. It sounded like the door opening again. The door he'd just come through. And then he heard the clang of metal on metal but muffled. He couldn't be sure. The hallway turned, and the sound could've come from another direction. Probably, he thought to himself. I'm just letting my imagination get away with me. Keep moving, he thought, we'll be out of here in no time.

  Garrett's plan was to get the supplies he needed and get the hell out. He wanted some food, some water and some of the camping gear that he'd seen earlier. With any luck, he'd get that camper from the parking garage working, and they'd have shelter to make their way up to New York.

  If Holly knew what he was doing, she'd kill him. That is, if the gang that controlled the building didn't find him first. She'd forgive him later, he thought. Once they were on the road, and well away from here.

  What he had to be sure about now, was making it out alive. If he got himself killed before he got back to her, then she'd really be pissed. He grinned in the dark. The only good thing would be that he wouldn't have to deal with it.

  Garrett was within distance now of the central atrium. He could hear voices, and they seemed happy. They were ransacking the place.

  He remembered the way around the atrium that led down to the other storerooms and decided to take that route. He'd have to make it downstairs, taking the big stairwell without being noticed. That's where most of the storerooms were, in particular, the one with the camping supplies. There were stoves and tents and other cooking utensils that would be incredibly helpful, not to mention backpacks, if they had to head out on foot.

  Even before he got to the stairs, Garrett saw a fortunate sight. It looked like in their ravenous approach to scavenging; the current invaders were careless. Items of food and water and other gear that Garrett thought would be in the lower levels, were strewn all over the hallway. It was like they were just getting everything out in the open for cataloging. It made sense, he supposed. It would be easier to move things into their headquarters if it was inventoried first.

  The hallway was darkened, but they'd found some lights to keep the area lit. They weren't lights he'd seen previously in the YMCA. They must've brought them from their other supplies. They were heavy industrial lights connected to batteries. He also took that, as a good sign that not every battery in the city was dead. The bad news was that he'd have to be quick so as not to be seen.

  The sound of distant voices dropped to nothing, and Garrett made his move. He'd spotted the items he wanted from the safety of the shadows, and now all he had to do was dash and grab them.

  Just then, he felt hands on the shoulders yank him back and throw him onto the ground. The force sent him sliding down the hallway. Garrett sprang back to his feet, scanning quickly for his assailant.

  Dammit, he thought to himself here we go again. Instead of eying the goodies, I should've been paying more attention to my surroundings.

  As she turned and looked up from his sprawled position on the floor, he saw a face he recognized. A very pissed off face. It was Holly, and she most c
ertainly didn't look happy to see him.

  Chapter 22 ~ Regroup

  Sam found that walking helped. It cleared his head and got him thinking in other directions, other possibilities, avenues of escape. Problems cropped up everywhere, and all you had to do was spend a little bit of time letting your brain tumble them around.

  Sam was a fixer, but not this kind of fixer. He didn't like to talk about the kind of work he did. It didn't fill him with a sense of pride that he thought should be associated with work. It wasn't his first career choice, but personal mistakes had narrowed his choices. Now though, he was all about making the right choices. He had no doubt that these days he made good choices.

  He casually walked the boardwalk along the beach, pacing back and forth over the course of several blocks. Bigger problems took more walking. On one side, he could see all the glitzy storefronts and casinos that just a short while ago would've had plenty of people milling about. People with hopeless dreams of winning it big at the casinos. People with their eyes reflecting the pretty baubles and fashions in the storefront windows. People that thought tomorrow would be better, or at the very least a little more exciting than today. That's why everybody came to a place like Atlantic City.

  On the other side, was the beach and the ocean. A place where people went to worship the sun, to stare off into the great beyond and wonder what lay across the ocean. Sam's eyes didn't have to look that far.

  His stopped at the lifeboat that had brought them to shore. It's funny how perspective can change things he thought. When we were on the lifeboat, the horizon was the shoreline. It was where they desperately wanted to be. The complete opposite, of what people on the beach normally thought when they looked off into the horizon over the ocean. They thought it was filled with possibilities. Just like the people on the other side of the street staring into storefront windows.

 

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