Unwanted World: A Post Apocalyptic/Dystopian Survival Fiction Series (The EMP Survivor Series Book 4) (The EMP Survivor Series (5 Book Series))

by Chris Pike

  He waded into the water until it lapped his thighs. He stretched his body out, put his arms straight over his head, and dove into the water. He swam with the ease of an Olympic swimmer, reaching for a handful of water, pulling it back, barely causing a ripple.

  With his adrenaline racing, the shock of the cold water abated. His focus was on what he needed to do.

  Nico swam to the middle of the river, treaded water for a moment, then ducked his head under. Of all the places for the chopper to go down, it had to be in one of the deepest parts of the river. He opened his eyes to visibility of about an inch. Coming up for a breath, he shook the water out of his eyes. The current was stronger than he had anticipated and it had already pushed him a few feet downstream of where he thought the chopper had gone down.

  He stretched his legs down into the water and used his toes to search for the helicopter. He found nothing so he swam a few feet and tried again.

  Still nothing.

  Time was running out.

  He glanced at his hiding place behind the stately mesquite tree, recognizing the chopper would have fallen into the river a few yards upstream. Swimming like he was in a race, he went to the spot he estimated the chopper was, took a deep breath and submerged, feet first. His toes came into contact with the smooth metal of the chopper’s underbelly. It must have flipped over in the water.

  Nico shot up to the surface, inhaled several deep breaths, and expanded his lungs to the fullest to saturate his blood with oxygen. With one last big breath, he closed his mouth tightly and submerged, diving face down into the water. He struggled to remain submerged and his heart beat hard against his chest. He exhaled a few bubbles to decrease the buoyancy his expanded lungs had caused.

  His hands searched the remains of the chopper. He palpated it like a doctor would a patient’s abdomen looking for an internal injury. His hands swept over the metal, touching various parts of the chopper, and when he found the door handle, he clicked it open.

  Nothing happened. The water pressure was too great.

  Rocketing to the surface, Nico gulped air. He shoved his hand in his pocket, searching for his knife. Taking a big breath, he submerged again and quickly found the door. He used the knife blade as a pry bar until he levered his way in.

  Reaching in, his arms swept the cockpit for body of the pilot. His hand brushed against an arm floating in the water. Using both hands, Nico tugged on the pilot to free him.

  He was stuck.

  The seatbelt!

  He unbuckled the pilot from the seatbelt, looped his arm around the pilot’s waist, and tugged him out of the chopper. Nico kicked his legs and tore to the surface. He treaded water, gulping several breaths of air. He flipped the pilot on his back so his face was out of the water.

  For a moment he was disoriented, unsure which was the American side of the river.

  There, he saw it. The mesquite tree again.

  Swimming toward it, Nico slugged the unconscious pilot through the water. When his feet touched the muddy bottom of the river, Nico stood and looped his hands under the pilot’s armpits. He dragged the unconscious pilot out of the water then heaved him onto muddy ground. Using his index and middle finger, Nico checked for a pulse.

  It was weak, but still there.

  He began CPR, cycling several times until the pilot gasped a breath.

  Sitting back, Nico waited.

  The pilot sputtered water, looked at Nico and said, “Next time you get to fly the bird.”

  Chapter 5

  “I thought you were a goner,” Nico said. He was leaning over his partner, Tony Garza, studying him for any injuries.

  “Me too,” Tony replied.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “Don’t think so.” Tony flexed his fingers, wiggled his toes, and tested the use of both arms and legs. He sat up. “Everything seems to be working.”

  Nico stood and looked around. The drug runners across the border were nowhere in sight. That was a good thing. With the situation temporarily secured, Nico decided he’d better clean his wet Glock best he could.

  A gun that jammed during a gunfight wouldn’t do him any good and could cost lives. Nico unholstered his Glock, ejected the magazine, then locked the slide back, which jacked the extra round out. He peered into the chamber looking for sand or mud the river water could have churned up. He spotted a clear puddle so he decided to rinse his Glock. He submerged the gun, swished it a few times, then shook it out. Next he emptied the magazine, pocketed the bullets, and rinsed the magazine in the water. It wasn’t the best solution to clean a sandy gun, but it would have to do for now. Once he got back to his truck he’d replace the loaded magazine with a clean one.

  “What happened up there?” Nico asked. He took the bullets out of his pocket and inserted them back into the magazine.

  “I don’t know.” Tony rubbed his temples. “I remember a bright flash. Was I hit by a ground to air missile?”

  “There was no missile,” Nico said.

  “That’s so strange. Both engines simultaneously quit on me, and the next thing I knew the bird hit the water. I don’t remember anything after that,” Tony said.

  “Just as well,” Nico said.

  “I don’t think I want to remember drowning.”

  “I wouldn’t either. How do your lungs feel? Think you got any water in them?”

  Tony took a deep breath and let it out, testing his lungs. “I don’t hear anything gurgling. I’m good.”

  “Glad to hear,” Nico said. “I thought you had the chopper inspected not long ago.” He stepped over to where he had thrown off his boots and socks. Picking them up, he went back over to where Tony sat.

  “I did. It was in perfect working order and everything checked out. You know how Kent is a stickler for safety, always hammering us to be careful.”

  “I guess Kent won’t be too happy about it when he finds out the department’s one and only Black Hawk chopper is in the middle of the Rio Grande,” Nico said. He sat down, brushed off the sand from his feet, and put his socks on. “Department cutbacks and everything.”

  “Yeah, the boss has been ridin’ my ass about turning in expense reports for the past six months. Wait ‘till he sees this one.” Tony laughed at the thought.

  “There may not be enough spaces on the expense report for it. Kent gives me grief when I expense a cup of coffee. A multi-million dollar expense? Let me know when you tell Kent and I’ll make sure to be long gone,” Nico said.

  “There goes my raise,” Tony added.

  “Mine too.” Nico tied his boot laces and straightened his back. He removed his Glock and racked the slide back, checking to make sure a round was in the chamber.

  “Did you get the package?” Tony asked.

  “After you showed up early our friends hightailed it back to their side. Next time we need to make sure our timing is perfect.”

  Tony sat up, squinted at the river, and pointed. “Hey, would ya look at that?”

  “What?”

  “I don’t think you’ll go back empty handed after all.”

  Nico looked in the direction Tony pointed. There, bobbing on the river surface, was a package wrapped in cellophane. “I’ll get it. I sure don’t want to go back to San Antonio empty handed.”

  “Is that the package you’re after?” Tony asked.

  “I hope so. If it’s not, I won’t get to meet Santiago.”

  “Where’s the money you were supposed to have traded?”

  “It’s in a duffle bag at the truck.”

  “Good idea. If anything went wrong, the money might have ended up in the wrong hands, and we need the money as evidence, otherwise Kent would’ve thrown a fit.”

  “What do you mean?” Nico asked.

  “You’re forgetting one minor thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The chopper.”

  Nico grimaced. “You have a point there. We’ll have to break the news nice and easy to the boss. On second thought, since you were the pilo
t today, you get the honors.”

  “Thanks,” Tony said sarcastically. “At least we know where it is.”

  “I suppose.” Nico waded into the river to retrieve the floating package. Bringing it ashore, he put it in his backpack. “Can you stand?”

  “Think so.” Tony stood on wobbly legs, teetered for a moment, then sat back down.

  Nico looked at him in worried consternation. “Let’s get you out of the sun and into the shade.”

  Tony put his hand to his forehead, cradling it. “I thought I was going to pass out.”

  “Considering what you’ve been through, it’s not a surprise.” Nico looped his arms around his partner and helped him up.

  The October sun was high in the sky and with his adrenaline dump waning, Nico was keenly aware of his thirst. His truck was hidden about half a mile away in a thicket of mesquite and huisache. When Tony got his wits about him, they’d head on over to the truck then back into town.

  * * *

  Del Rio, Texas. A border town on the Rio Grande River. The city is on the northwestern edge of the South Texas brush country, a place where everything stings or bites among the mix of desert shrub, hardy vegetation, and stunted trees.

  It’s also home to Laughlin Air Force Base, the busiest United States Air Force training complex where pilot training is conducted for the United States Air Force, Air Force Reserve, Air National Guard, and allied nation air forces. Pilots train on T-6 Texan, T-38 Talon, and T-1A Jayhawk jet trainers. After an intensive 52 week course, some four hundred new military pilots earn their silver wings.

  * * *

  Partners for several years, Tony and Nico had worked undercover fighting the flow of drugs funneled into the United States along the border rife with lonely spots to enter the country undetected. Nico and Tony made it their mission to secure a swath of the twelve hundred and fifty mile long border Texas shared with Mexico.

  After Nico put the package in his backpack, he told Tony it was time to go.

  Hobbling through the brush while Nico supported some of his weight, Tony asked, “One package? What’s so important about one package?”

  Nico stepped around the cactus. “I don’t know. I only get to meet Santiago if the package’s seal is unbroken. Considering how it was taped and sealed with wax, it would be difficult to open it undetected.”

  “What about your contacts on the other side of the river?” Nico laughed. “You should have seen the look on their faces. It was priceless.”

  “What did they do?”

  “Hightailed it back to their side. I lost track of them when the chopper went down.”

  “Thanks for saving me,” Tony said.

  “No big deal. You would have done it for me.”

  That was right. Tony would have done it for Nico. As partners, they had worked hard to gain the trust of the drug runners, working in dangerous places and being out in the wee hours of the morning. Tony spoke fluent Spanish, and while Nico could understand the language, he had trouble speaking it. His proficiency in Russian didn’t exactly come in handy on the Mexican border.

  “You doing okay?” Nico asked. He had noticed Tony breathing hard.

  “Good enough,” Tony lied.

  His right side hurt like the devil. Each time he took a breath, a sharp stab of pain pierced his chest. If he breathed shallow his lungs didn’t hurt, but knowing it was bad to breathe like that, he breathed deeply and tried not to let Nico see him wince.

  Five minutes later they were at the truck, a beat-up tan Ford Bronco that had been confiscated in a drug raid.

  Nico helped Tony to the side of the truck where he told him to lean against it. Nico dug around in his pockets where he had dropped the keys earlier. Finding them, he was thankful he hadn’t lost them in the river. He pointed the key fob at the truck. Nothing happened. He got closer and clicked the key fob again. Still nothing.

  “Maybe water got into the battery,” Tony suggested, “shorting it out.”

  “Probably.”

  “Unlock it manually.”

  Nico inserted the key and unlocked the truck. He clicked open the door locks then helped Tony into the passenger seat.

  “I think we need to get you to the hospital,” Nico said.

  “I think that would be a good idea.” Tony awkwardly repositioned himself, grimacing at the shooting pain in his side.

  Nico noticed the face his partner made. “Hang in there. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.” Nico looped around to the driver’s side. With one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the key, he inserted the key and turned it. Nothing happened.

  He tried again. Still nothing.

  “The battery might be dead,” Tony said.

  “Can’t be. I had a new battery put in a couple of months ago.”

  “You’re kidding. Kent approved a battery?”

  Nico shook his head. “I paid for it.”

  Tony looked around. They were in the middle of the South Texas brush country, were miles away from the nearest gas station, and the highway was about a mile north of where they were. Trying to convince a local to go off road to jump the battery wasn’t looking too good.

  “Better call it in,” Tony said. “Have Kent send someone out to get us.”

  “If the battery is dead, the radio is dead.”

  “Of course,” Tony said. “My head isn’t too clear. Got a cell phone?” He patted his pockets. “I must have lost mine in the river.”

  Nico pulled out his burner phone and looked at it, thinking he hadn’t turned it off. He tried clicking it on. Nothing happened.

  An expression of disbelief came over him. “The phone doesn’t work either. What are the chances of all the batteries dying at the same time?”

  “You’d probably have better chances winning the lottery.”

  “What the heck is going on?” Nico asked.

  “No idea,” Tony said. He squinted and looked at the sky, and an expression of disbelief spread across his face.

  “What is it?” Nico asked.

  “The military jet. It looks like it’s about to crash!”

  Chapter 6

  Nico swung open the door and scrambled into the bed of the truck where he stood to get a better view of the jet, now spiraling out of control to the ground.

  The jet hit the hard-packed ground and shards of jagged red-hot metal erupted from the crater, splintering out in all directions. A cloud of black smoke and flames burst into the air like a geyser full of boiling dust.

  Jet fuel instantaneously vaporized the nearby foliage of trees and grass, sending a mix of incinerated fuel and powdered vegetation skyward.

  Trees weakened from the year-long drought that hadn’t been vaporized in the initial crash caught fire.

  Sparks sizzled in the windstorm of debris and jet fuel.

  Embers glowing red floated on silent air drafts, searching for another victim which would succumb to the fiery flames.

  Thick smoke crawled along the ground in waves, obscuring escape by anyone or anything unlucky enough caught unprepared.

  Seconds later, the shockwave from the massive explosion rumbled along the ground at breakneck speed like an out of control locomotive.

  Nico instinctively ducked and hunched over.

  Simultaneously, an immense fireball, black and orange and angry, exploded in all directions, searing the ground and sucking oxygen out of the air. Towers of black smoke billowed upwards in the sky.

  A nearby flock of white-winged doves scattered through the air, away from the carnage.

  Nico estimated the impact was about a mile away from where they were.

  “Jesus Christ Almighty!” Tony exclaimed. He hobbled out of the truck. “I’ve never seen anything like that happen in all my life. And I’ve lived here all my life. We’re so used to the training missions happening 24-7 and all the flyovers that we don’t pay any attention to them anymore.”

  Nico squinted and scanned the sky in all directions.

  “What are you looking for
?” Tony asked.

  “The pilot. He could’ve ejected.”

  “Hopefully so.”

  “Yeah, there he is,” Nico said, pointing in a northeasterly direction where there was a break in the smoke.

  A moment later the pilot, secured into a parachute, floated down to the ground.

  “Stay here,” Nico said. “I’ll go check if he’s okay. It looks like he landed not too far away. I’ll be right back.”

  Nico dashed through the high grass and brush, jogging the half mile or so to where he estimated the pilot had landed. He came upon the shell-shocked pilot who was lying on the ground still strapped into the harness, the parachute billowing behind him. He had cuts and burns on his face due to the canopy jettison and fragmented plastic. His eyes were bloodshot.

  “You okay?” Nico asked.

  “Whatd’ya say?” the pilot asked. “I can’t hear.”

  “Are you okay?” Nico yelled.

  “I don’t know,” the man replied, trying to blink his eyes into focus. He shook his head trying to clear his fuzzy brain. “I’m having a hard time hearing!” he yelled. “I think I lost consciousness. Those G-forces are a killer.”

  “You don’t have to yell, I can hear you.”

  The pilot nodded.

  “G-forces can do some real damage. Can you move your arms and legs? You need to check if anything is broken.”

  The pilot made a fist to test his fingers then flexed both arms. He wiggled his feet and bent his legs at the knees. “Guess I’m okay. I’ve heard about other pilots not being so lucky.”

  “Yeah,” Nico said. “I had flight simulator testing when I was a cadet at the Air Force Academy, but I never got to fly a jet.”

  “When were you there? I went there too.”

  “Several years ago, probably before your time. I had to leave after my sophomore year…family problems.”

  “Oh. Too bad you had to leave. Flying is the boss, until you have to eject.”

  “I know.” Nico helped the pilot out of the harness, hooking his arms under the pilot’s to steady him until he stopped wobbling.