Surviving The Collapse Super Boxset: EMP Post Apocalyptic Fiction

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Surviving The Collapse Super Boxset: EMP Post Apocalyptic Fiction Page 4

by J. S. Donovan


  “I don’t think that’s something we can be a part of today. We’ve got a lot of chores around the house to do.”

  “Oh, come on, Mike. We already have the grills going. It’ll be fun. Oh, hi, Anne.”

  Mike felt Anne come up behind him.

  “Nelson, how are you?” she asked.

  “Well, I’d be better if you could convince Mike to join the barbeque today.”

  “Barbeque?” she asked.

  “Yeah, we’re getting the whole neighborhood involved.”

  “Sounds great. What time?”

  “In about an hour.”

  “I’ll bring some patties out of the freezer.”

  “That’d be great! I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

  Nelson trotted off to the other neighbors and Mike shut the door. Annie stood there grinning at him.

  “It’s going to get worse, huh? Armageddon’s barbeque. How will we survive?” she asked.

  Mike waited until she was out of earshot before he said anything.

  “And you think our daughter gets the attitude from me.”

  The turnout for the barbeque was huge. Bessie Beachum had gathered the whole neighborhood and had coordinated anything and everything people could want. Burgers, ribs, hot dogs, beers, liquor, ice cream, popsicles, anything that wasn’t going to last in the freezers and fridges was on the menu.

  The whole setup was a makeshift combination of picnic tables, lawn chairs, and card tables. Everything was parked at the end of the cul-de-sac.

  Ray Gears even had an old record player he brought out. Everyone munched on their hamburgers while listening to the sounds of the Beach Boys.

  It almost felt like a normal Saturday during the summer. Mike allowed himself a moment to actually enjoy himself and even managed to get a smile out of his daughter by drawing a smiley face on Freddy’s forehead with the tip of his fudge pop.

  Nothing felt as if city behind them was being ravaged with violence and despair. Here they seemed out of its reach, but Mike knew what would eventually come, and the momentary joy he felt slowly disappeared.

  The lower the sun sank in the sky the drunker most of the parents became. With the party winding down, Mike helped organize the cleanup. He was clearing one of the tables when Bessie Beachum started walking toward him.

  “Mike, you don’t have to do that,” Bessie said.

  Bessie had her hair done up, fresh makeup caked on her face, and that wide unnaturally forced smile you see people use when they’re pissed about something but want to hide it, and Bessie could get mad about anything.

  A few years ago there was a family that moved in down the street. Their kids were in a band together and they were pretty good. They’d practice every chance they could in their garage, but Bessie managed to get a petition signed banning them from practicing because the “noise pollution” was detrimental to the neighborhood’s reputation. The family moved out a month later.

  “It’s fine, Bessie,” Mike answered.

  “Well, I appreciate you helping out. I think it was a great turnout don’t you?”

  “Yeah, it seems like everyone enjoyed it.”

  Mike looked up and saw that she was lingering. Her arms were folded and she was squinting at him.

  “Is there something else I can help you with?” Mike asked.

  “It’s just that, well, I find it odd that everything isn’t working. I mean, it would be one thing if it were just the power, but our car, phones, laptops; things that aren’t plugged in aren’t working. Do you happen to know what’s going on?”

  “Not really.”

  “I know that you’re one of those people who… prepare, so I was just curious to hear your thoughts. You must have some idea of what’s happening, right?”

  Mike changed the subject.

  “We should get all of the garbage cans together, centralize the trash. It’s going to build up fast.”

  Bessie flashed another forced smile.

  “I’ll get Ted to round them up,” she said.

  Bessie trotted off, her heels clacking against the pavement. With her back to Mike the plastic smile faded. She found her husband, Ted, cleaning his grill and holding a beer can.

  “Mike knows something,” Bessie said.

  “Knows about what?”

  “He knows why nothing’s working. I mean they go once a month to that stupid cabin of theirs in Ohio practicing their survival skills. He’s hiding something.”

  “Why wouldn’t he tell us if he knew? Maybe he really doesn’t know.”

  Bessie’s arms slumped to her sides. She cocked her head to the side looking at her husband, who was putting some serious elbow grease onto one of the blackened spots on the grill. She snapped her fingers and he finally looked up.

  “Ted!”

  “What?”

  “Just get the trash cans together and put them in between Nelson’s and Mike’s house.”

  Mike tossed the last bag in the pile of garbage, and then he felt his hand curl and begin to shake. He grimaced and started messaging the inside of his palm. Anne saw him wince and grabbed his wrist.

  “Are they acting up again?” she asked.

  “Yeah, a little.”

  When Mike looked up he saw Kalen talking to the Sturgis boy, James. They both had their hands in their pockets laughing at everything they were saying to each other.

  “What’s all this about?” he asked, motioning over to Kalen.

  “Well, from how much time she spends on his Facebook page I had an inkling she might like him.”

  Anne put her hand on Mike’s back and then recoiled when she felt the gun tucked in his belt.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  Before Mike could stop her Anne lifted his shirt, then gasped and yanked it back down.

  “Jesus, Mike. You brought your gun to the barbeque?”

  “Keep your voice down. Yes, I did, and I want you to start carrying too.”

  “Mike… We’ll be fine. Now, let’s go home before you shoot Kalen’s new boyfriend.”

  “Boyfriend?”

  The conversations happening around them stopped and the only thing you could hear was the Beach Boys’ “Little Deuce Coupe” playing in the background. James looked terrified, Kalen looked mortified, and both were flushed red.

  “Dad!” Kalen said.

  Freddy rolled off the bench of the picnic table he was sitting on, roaring with laughter. Kalen stomped off past Mike and stormed into the house.

  Ray Gears, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and white tennis packed up his record player along with the Beach Boys.

  “Sorry about that. Mike Love has been known to increase the hormone levels in teenagers. At least that’s what it did to me at that age,” Ray said.

  “Hi, Ray,” Anne said.

  “Anne. Mike. How are you guys holding up?” Ray asked.

  “We’re all right. How about you?” Mike asked.

  “I’m fine, but I don’t think all this was the best idea,” Ray said.

  “Why?” Anne asked.

  “The cars? Cell phones? They’re all off. This isn’t just a power outage, but you already knew that didn’t you, Mike?” Ray said.

  “I know,” Mike said.

  “People keep saying somebody’s coming to fix this, but no one’s coming. People are happy now, but come tomorrow things we’ll start to turn. I saw a few people stupid enough to bring some canned goods,” Ray said.

  “I saw,” Mike replied.

  “Look, I don’t know how much supplies you have, but now might be a good time to start thinking of teaming up.”

  “We might be getting ahead of ourselves, Ray.”

  “Is that why you decided to carry your 9mm tonight?

  “I always carry.”

  “Look, Mike, you know just as well as I do that when people start to get hungry they’re going to turn on each other, and unless you have an escape plan or a castle that can protect you you’re not going to make it out of here alive, b
ut I guess that’s what your Jeep’s for.”

  “How do you know my Jeep will run?”

  “Because you’re a man who carries a gun when he knows when shit’s about to hit the fan.”

  Mike and Anne watched Ray grab the rest of his vinyl and head for the dark shape of his house in the distance.

  “What are you thinking?” Anne asked.

  “I’m thinking Ray might be the only friend we have left when things turn bad.”

  7

  Day Three

  Mike dipped the pot into the bathtub and filled it halfway. Before he went to bed last night he filled all of the tubs and sinks in the house, collecting as much of the water left in the pipes as he could. He’d gathered enough water to last them three or four days.

  Mike pounded on both of his children’s bedroom doors on his way back to the kitchen.

  “Wake up! Everybody downstairs. Family meeting time.”

  Mike lighted the gas stove and set the water to boil. Freddy trudged into the kitchen with his hair sticking straight up on one side of his head while the other lay completely flat.

  Kalen came in next wearing sweat pants, her makeup from the day before, and her hair pulled in a ponytail.

  “Dad, I need to take a shower. I feel disgusting,” Kalen said.

  “You smell disgusting too,” Freddy said.

  “Shut up, Freddy!”

  “Okay, that’s enough you two,” Anne said, entering the kitchen and giving Freddy a slight pat on the bum.

  “I drained all of the water in the pipes last night. No more showers for a while,” Mike said.

  “Yay!” “What?” Freddy and Kalen shouted unanimously.

  “Everybody sit down. We all need to talk about a few things,” Mike said.

  Kalen folded her arms and dropped into the seat at the opposite end of the table where Mike sat. Anne and Freddy sat on either side of him. Mike reached for Anne’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

  “Everything we talk about here stays with the family. Understand?” Mike said.

  Freddy nodded. Kalen rolled her eyes.

  “The power’s not coming back on,” Mike said.

  Freddy and Kalen looked at each other, making sure they heard their father correctly.

  “Why?” Freddy asked.

  “What we’re experiencing isn’t a power outage. It’s the effects of an EMP burst. Anything that has a microprocessor in it is completely useless,” Mike explained.

  “The whole country can’t be like this,” Kalen said.

  “I think it is. If it weren’t, we would have heard from someone by now,” Mike said.

  “W-what does that mean?” Freddy asked.

  “We’re going to be fine,” Anne said.

  “We’re going to stay here as long as we can, but we’ll probably need to head to the cabin in a few days,” Mike said.

  Kalen shot up out of her chair.

  “In Ohio?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Mike said.

  “We should leave now,” Ulysses said.

  Mike hadn’t heard him enter the kitchen. His father wiped some grease from his hands with a rag and threw it over his shirt.

  “Dad, what are you doing?” Mike asked.

  “Changing the oil in your Jeep. Want to make sure it’s good to go in case we have to leave in a hurry.”

  “Why do we have to leave at all? What about James? What about school? My friends? What about my life!” Kalen screamed.

  “Kalen, sit down,” Anne snapped.

  Kalen dropped into her chair.

  “Look, we don’t know when or how bad this is going to get, but we all need to be ready. From here on out we always walk in pairs. Freddy. Kalen. You two aren’t allowed anywhere without your mom, grandpa, or me,” Mike said.

  “Noooo.”

  This time the cries of both Freddy and Kalen were unanimous.

  “No exceptions,” Mike said. “We also need to keep what we have to ourselves. I don’t want people knowing about the Jeep, or our provisions in the cellar, okay?”

  “Why can’t we tell anyone, Dad?” Freddy asked.

  “Because we can’t help-”

  Mike cut himself off. He thought back to the young man who was shot, the hospital, and the walk home. All of those moments were sacrifices of his time and energy to help people in need around him. The man looking at him with greasy hands standing in the kitchen taught him that. What was he teaching his own son now?

  “We need to make sure we protect our family first. We’re a team. All of us,” Mike said.

  “Yeah, and we’ll need all the food we can get with those hollow legs of yours,” Ulysses said, coming up behind Freddy and patting his grandson’s leg. Freddy giggled.

  “First things first,” Mike said. “I want everyone to have an emergency bag with anything you’d want to bring with you ready and packed in case we need to get out quickly. Go.”

  Freddy ran enthusiastically up the stairs. Kalen dragged herself back to her room.

  “You too,” Mike said to Anne. They kissed and she walked back to their room.

  Mike walked back over to the stove. The pot was boiling now. He added the hot water to a bowl of oatmeal and stirred.

  “Michael,” Ulysses said.

  “Dad, I can’t turn our house into the Salvation Army,” Mike said.

  “You’re doing the right thing, son.”

  Mike dropped the spoon back down into the mush of oats in front of him. He looked up at his father. The face he was staring at wasn’t the face of iron he remembered as a child. It was a face of understanding.

  “You think so?” Mike asked.

  “I do. You have to take care of your own before you take care of someone else. I know sometimes I wasn’t the best with feelings, but I was only that way because I knew I didn’t have to worry about you. You can take care of yourself. Now, you can take care of your family.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  8

  Day Four

  “Don’t hold out on me, Frank, I know you have some!”

  “I’m telling you, Adam, I don’t have any.”

  Mike dropped the saw from the plywood he was cutting when he heard the shouts from the neighbor’s house. His tool belt hung from his waist. He pushed the side gate open from the backyard. The shouting became louder the closer he moved to the front yard.

  “My whole family is starving and you’ve got enough to feed two families for a week!”

  “Adam, I’m telling you I don’t have as much as you think I do. I’m just trying to keep my family going on what I have.”

  Mike turned the corner and saw Adam Stahls’ red face beaming with anger. Adam’s nose was pressed against the screen door that Frank Minks was hiding behind.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” Mike asked.

  Adam marched toward Mike focusing his rage on a new target.

  “This prick is holding out on us, Mike,” Adam said.

  “Easy, Adam,” Mike said.

  Mike kept his hand close to the hammer around his belt. Adam paced back and forth in the driveway.

  “Where the hell are the relief efforts, huh? Why hasn’t everything turned back on? Why the fuck can’t I turn my car on and drive to the grocery store!” Adam screamed.

  Adam collapsed to his hands and knees on the concrete. A few tears splashed the driveway.

  “My boy said he was hungry and I can’t… I don’t have anything to give him.”

  Frank came out from behind the screen door. He and Mike knelt down to Adam and helped him up.

  “Frank, why don’t we go around and get a pool going for anything that can be spared. I bet we could get a little something from everyone,” Mike said.

  “Yeah, we can do that,” Frank replied.

  “Adam, you head back home. Frank and I will see what we can put together, okay?” Mike said.

  Adam wiped the embarrassment from his eyes and nodded. Mike watched him shuffle back over to his home. Mike noticed faces peering out from be
hind blinds from the front windows of a few of the houses, checking out the commotion.

  Anne came out the front door and joined them.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “Put together some goods for the Stahls,” Mike said.

  “Anne, wait,” Frank said.

  He rushed back inside and came out with a few cans of peaches.

  “For Adam,” Frank said.

  The sun dipped below the horizon when Mike finally finished cutting the plywood. He started labeling each one: Living room. Kitchen. Bedroom. Each piece had small holes cut close to the corners that would allow them to look outside. He brought them in the house and rested each piece of plywood at its corresponding location.

  “What are you doing?” Anne asked.

  “For the windows. In case things get bad,” he said.

  “I gave those supplies to Adam. He broke down when he saw them. I’ve never seen him like that before.”

  “Nobody was ready for this.”

  “You were.”

  Anne grabbed his arm and pulled him over to her. She rested her face on his chest and he rested his chin on the top of her head. Her hair was still warm from the sun and there was still the faint scent of her shampoo, lingering under his nose.

  The two of them rocked slowly back and forth. The room around them was still and quiet. The light breaking through the windows caught the swirls of dust flying around in the room.

  “You know… I think I’m going to have to overrule your no shower rule,” she said.

  Mike pinched her and she squealed. She threw her head back laughing.

  “You smell really bad,” she said.

  “Better get used to it,” he said.

  “You’re a good man,” she said.

  A knocked from the front door interrupted their kiss. Mike lifted the back of his shirt, revealing the pistol and checked the peephole. When he saw who it was he flipped his shirt down and opened the door.

 

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