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

  “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  “No. What I was looking for had been right here all along.” Josh met Kristen’s eyes. She glanced away.

  “I’m married now. My husband was stationed at Laughlin also. Do you know him?”

  “Everyone knows Bill. We nicknamed him Kill Bill.”

  Kristen furrowed her brow. She stepped away from the sofa and went to the window. She pulled back the curtains and glanced at the darkening street. Cars were parked curbside. A dog barked in the distance. A cat scurried across the street and disappeared into the bushes.

  “What are you doing?” Josh asked.

  “Looking for Bill. He knew I was coming over here. He knew Vanessa and I carpooled together. He was supposed to have picked me up.” She turned and faced Josh. “From what you’ve said, he probably was flying about the same time you were. Do you know if he was?”

  “Kristen, I didn’t know you and Bill were married. He always talked about how proud he was of you and his daughter. When he mentioned your name I never imagined it was you he was talking about. He’s a friend of mine, and I want you to know I’m here for you.”

  Kristen eyed him with growing concern. “I don’t understand. Why do you need to be here for me?”

  “I’m sorry, Kristen. Bill’s jet lost power at the same time mine did.”

  “Did he eject?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see him, but it doesn’t mean he didn’t. It all happened too fast.”

  Kristen straightened up. “When we married I knew there was a chance of something bad happening, especially since he was training to be a fighter pilot. Until I have proof otherwise, I won’t consider the alternative. I can’t. I won’t. We built a life together. I’ve moved on from being eighteen, Josh. I found what I wanted.”

  “I’m glad you did. Really I am, but I meant what I said. Bill was my friend, and I’m here for you if you need me.”

  “Thank you. I’ll stay here with Vanessa so she won’t be alone. I guess Nico will need to leave soon, and your parents will be worried about you.”

  “I’ll stay with you and Vanessa and the kids as long as I need to.”

  Chapter 16

  The night passed long and lonely. Josh took up residence in an armchair and intermittently nodded off. The kids and the dog were sleeping peacefully upstairs, unaware of the life-changing event.

  Unable to sleep, Vanessa compulsively cleaned the house to the point Nico thought she might drop from exhaustion. Vanessa rebuffed all of Kristen’s and Nico’s offers to help with housework telling them, “I need to stay busy.”

  Using one of the LED lanterns Tony had purchased, Vanessa straightened magazines on end tables, dusted furniture and mini blinds, swept and mopped the kitchen, rearranged books in the bookshelf, then refolded the bed sheets in the linen closet. After she finished, she asked Nico to move the sofa so she could clean under it, and since the carpet couldn’t be vacuumed, she took a wet towel and rubbed it in a circular motion to remove pet hair and dust.

  Once she finished with the carpet, she began pulling the books off the bookshelf then set them on the floor.

  “What are you doing?” Nico asked.

  “I’m going to classify the books using the Dewey Decimal system so they’ll be in proper order. I’ve always wanted to do that.”

  Nico put a hand on her arm to get her attention. “Vanessa, that’s enough. You’re exhausted. You need to stop.”

  “People will be coming over once they hear Tony died. I need to have a clean house,” she protested.

  “Nobody will care.” Nico placed the books back in the bookshelf. “Your house is clean enough. It must be three in the morning. You–we–all need to try and get some sleep. I have a big journey in front of me tomorrow and I need all the rest I can get.”

  “I’m sorry,” Vanessa said. “I’ve only been thinking about myself.”

  “Under the circumstances you’re entitled.”

  “I still need to clean the kitchen.”

  “Stop,” Nico said.

  After more cajoling on Nico’s part, Vanessa agreed sleep would be good for everyone. She checked on the kids, were who sleeping on the floor in the playroom. She gazed lovingly at her two children, wondering how she was going to tell them their dad had died.

  “Do you have anything to help you sleep?” Nico asked.

  “Only a prescription for Valium a doctor prescribed Tony a couple of years ago. He was having trouble at the office.”

  “Take it,” Nico said.

  “It’s not for me. It was for Tony.”

  “He won’t need it, Vanessa,” Nico said quietly.

  Vanessa took one pill with a glass of water then crawled into bed next to Kristen. Having Kristen sleeping on Bill’s side of the bed briefly comforted Vanessa. Maybe it was the warmth or the pressure on the mattress, but whatever it was, she was thankful Kristen stayed.

  Exhausted, both mentally and physically, Vanessa put her head on the pillow and tried to reassure herself things would be better in the morning.

  It was always better in the morning.

  Before she could form another thought in her mind, she drifted off to a fitful sleep, full of dreams about Tony and their life, and the life they wouldn’t have together.

  * * *

  Nico woke in the morning to the sounds of birds chirping and kids playing outside. He’d left the window open during the night to take advantage of the breeze. The corner room had two windows, one on the north side of the house, the other on the east side, which provided a cross breeze. Josh told him to sleep in the guest bedroom, while he would sleep on the sofa knowing he had a long way to go and would need the sleep. Nico didn’t fight him on it, and once he stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes, he fell fast asleep. He hadn’t moved from the spot he fell asleep in.

  He woke groggily, yawned, stretched his toes to the bottom of the bed, and his first thought was it was too early for kids to play outside. He opened his eyes a slit, greeted by the morning sun filtering into the bedroom. From the position of the morning sun, it was probably 10 a.m. or later. He was blasted by a shot of adrenaline when he realized he had overslept. He threw off the sheet and dressed hastily.

  Nico muttered an obscenity under his breath, chastising himself for sleeping late. He’d never make it to San Antonio on time. Nature was calling so he took the stairs two at a time, hurried through the den, and stepped into the kitchen.

  She said, “You can go outside behind the tool shed.” Nico hurried through to the laundry room and unlatched the screen door to the backyard. His eyes swept over the yard. He spied the tool shed, figuring the space between it and the fence was as good a place as any.

  When he returned to the house, Vanessa was at the kitchen sink staring at the faucet.

  “Are you okay?” Nico asked.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t told the kids yet.”

  “You’ll need to tell them. Do you want me to tell them what happened?”

  “No. It’s better if they hear it from me.” Vanessa sighed. “This is so annoying.”

  “What is?”

  “There’s hardly any water pressure, only a trickle.”

  “Get the kids up and have them stand at each faucet and fill whatever containers you have with water. You’re going to need it.”

  “We have a good supply of bottled water,” Vanessa said.

  “It’s better to have more than less.”

  Vanessa nodded. “Can I get you anything to eat for breakfast?”

  “I don’t want to trouble you.”

  “It’s no trouble and I need to stay busy.”

  “I understand,” Nico said. “Do you have any coffee?”

  “It’s cold, but it’s still coffee.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  Vanessa poured a cup of cold coffee into a mug and handed it to Nico. “Do you need cream or sugar?”

  “Black’s good.” Nico gulped the coffee then set the mug on the
counter. “Can I ask you to do something else?”

  “Sure? What do you need?”

  “If you could pack me several peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, I’d be most appreciative. I didn’t mean to sleep so long. I guess my body needed the rest.”

  “I think we all did.” Vanessa retrieved a butter knife, put out six pieces of bread, and spread a thick layer of peanut butter on three of the pieces. She opened the jelly jar and spooned out a teaspoon for each sandwich.

  “Vanessa,” Nico said, “I’ve been thinking about something.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Would you mind if I borrow Tony’s bike? I need it to get to San Antonio.”

  “Not at all. It’s in the garage. The automatic door doesn’t open, so go in the side door. The bike should fit through it.”

  “Thank you so much,” he said. “I’ll be sure to return it someday.”

  “You don’t need to. It will be ages before the kids are big enough for it, and it’ll sit in the garage and rust. Take it. Tony would have liked you to have it.”

  “I’m so sorry about Tony.”

  “I know. I’m not the only one who lost him. You lost him too. I’ve been so consumed by my own grief I’ve forgotten his loss has affected not just me, but others.”

  Nico went to Vanessa and hugged her, not knowing how else he could comfort her. He patted her on the back and said, “He’s with our Heavenly Father and I know he is watching over you. Stay strong.”

  Vanessa hiccupped. “I’m trying.” She pulled away from him, swiped under both eyes, then stepped to the counter to finish making the sandwiches. Sensing that he hadn’t left, she said, “If you don’t want to waste any more time, you’d better go on and get the bike.”

  Nico headed to the garage where he found the bike. Removing it, he wheeled it through the door and onto the patio. The tires were low so he went back into the garage to find a tire pump.

  Vanessa delivered a sandwich and a bottle of water to him, and he gobbled it while he worked at getting the bike ready.

  After he fully inflated the tires he adjusted the seat to his height. With any luck he’d be in San Antonio in eighteen hours, on the day he promised Kate he’d be back.

  That is, if all went well.

  Something always went wrong, and Nico went over in his mind possible contingencies he’d have to deal with. Foremost was the bike. He’d be a target for anyone who wanted it, desperate people who would kill for it and dump his body in a ravine. On the other hand, Nico was armed and he wouldn’t hesitate to kill to protect himself, having already made up his mind that it was easier shooting a man than a dog.

  He figured it was 150 miles from Del Rio to San Antonio, and since he was tall with long legs, he could probably bike along at 15 mph, which made the trip 10 hours of non-stop riding.

  Dream on.

  Even if he had trained for a marathon, it would take him two days of rest stops, snacks, and a place in the shade to cool off. He was in good cardio shape, always finding time for a good run where he broke out in a sweat. Biking was something else altogether. He probably wouldn’t be able to walk after he made it to San Antonio, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

  “I thought you might need this,” Vanessa said. She shut the laundry room door. “A CamelBak. It holds two liters of water and will be easier to carry than a bunch of water bottles. I thought you’d need it.”

  “I can’t,” Nico said. “I’ve already imposed on you enough.”

  “Tony never even used it,” Vanessa said wistfully. “He was always ordering stuff on the internet, stuff he never used, always said he would. I’d tease him that I’d have a garage sale to get rid of all that stuff. Some of it is still in the boxes.” She dropped her chin. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

  “If there is anything I can do—”

  “I don’t think there is anything anybody can do. Please take it,” Vanessa said, handing him the CamelBak. “I’ve already filled it with water.” She opened a paper grocery bag. “In here are sandwiches and some high protein snack bars. I put some dried fruit in a baggie, and a chocolate almond bar in case you have a sweet tooth. It was from a school fundraiser from last year. I’m not sure how fresh it is, but it’s still good. And I also packed a fettucine alfredo MRE, complete with chicken and mixed veggies.”

  “Mmm,” Nico said. “Makes my mouth water.”

  “It doesn’t expire for five more years.”

  “Can’t wait to dig into that over a glass of wine.”

  Vanessa laughed. “It beats going hungry.”

  Nico nodded.

  “Also, your backpack is still in the den. Don’t forget that.”

  “I won’t.” Nico cleared his throat. “I guess I better get going. If you need me to stay—”

  “I’ll be fine. Josh and Kristen are with me. I know where Tony’s guns are and I know how to use them.” She looked at the second story of her house. “I still need to tell the kids, so I’d better let you go.”

  “I left instructions on the coffee table where we buried Tony.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be sure to notify the authorities. Tony said he wanted to be buried next to his parents.” Vanessa paused. “Well, I have to go on upstairs and talk to the kids.”

  “Okay. I’ll get my backpack, say goodbye to Josh and Kristen, then I’m leaving.”

  “I’ll say a prayer for you.”

  “Say two if you don’t mind,” Nico said, looking skyward. “Something tells me I’m going to need all the help I can get from the man upstairs.”

  Chapter 17

  Several hours later, Nico was reaching the point of exhaustion. He had to take more breaks than he thought was necessary so he could massage his legs to keep them from cramping.

  He kept giving himself a pep talk for motivation to keep going and used landmarks along the road for guidance.

  Once he reached the big oak a football field length away, he’d stop, or so he told himself. After he passed it, he’d find another goal to reach. Perhaps a road sign or a house, and before he knew it, he had biked another mile, then five, then ten. The mileage signs to San Antonio kept decreasing, a good indicator of his progress.

  If he had trained for a marathon bike ride, the 150 miles from Del Rio to San Antonio would have been manageable. He had made good progress on the way to Uvalde, but once his legs started cramping, his progress slowed. Probably dehydration and lack of proper mix of carbs, electrolytes, low fat foods, and protein had been the cause. A good helping of risotto would have fit the bill, and given him that extra push he sorely needed at the moment.

  Black, squiggly lines of tar used to repair weather cracks marred the road, and the more Nico looked at the lines, the more they acted like a sedative on his brain. He shook his head to clear the overwhelming fatigue.

  The next mileage sign indicated Uvalde was within his goal for the day, and he estimated it would take thirty minutes to reach it.

  Fields of the first growth of wheat and corn covered the landscape. A shiny green modern tractor sat still among the golden growth. Cows munched idly in pastures. Houses were silent. A rancher sitting tall atop a horse waved at Nico and called to him, but Nico only waved back, determined to stop only when necessary.

  Whenever he rode past abandoned cars he’d slow down and check for anything usable. At one, he found an unopened bottle of water which he gulped greedily, thankful he found the extra water. At another car he found a baseball cap with the San Antonio Spurs emblem on it. He tried it on, adjusted the back of it, and decided to keep it.

  Uvalde, known for its magnificent pecan trees, a result of the high water table in a land where everything stung or bit, was an anomaly in the quasi desert.

  Not quite the Hill Country, and not quite South Texas, it had its own brand of notoriety and hailed as hometown for several famous people including John Nance “Cactus Jack” Garner, who was a former Speaker of the House and Vice President of the United States. Oscar winner Matth
ew McConaughey, actress Dale Evans, and Governor of Texas Dolph Briscoe were also born in Uvalde, and it was the final resting place for gunslinger King Fisher.

  Nico had eaten one of the sandwiches Vanessa had packed, and polished off half of the dried fruit, along with a bag of peanuts Vanessa normally saved for squirrels. In desperate times like these, eating squirrel food wasn’t beneath Nico. Water was running low, and fortunately a farmer had let Nico fill up his water bottles.

  The wind brushed his face, reddened from the sun and wind, and he rode on, pedaling one rotation at a time.

  Civilization showed its face with an increasing amount of mom and pop businesses and houses as Nico approached Uvalde. The speed limit decreased from 70 mph to 55, then 40, and finally 35. A dog dashed from the porch of a nearby house and bolted toward him, barking and snapping, nipping at Nico’s heels. He had to shoo it away with a push of his foot.

  He crossed a dry gulch and observed a group of kids playing kickball.

  To his left a large gas station with sixteen pumps came into view. People were milling around the front of the convenience store and cast wary glances at Nico.

  Vintage cars, decades old, puttered along the street. A shiny red 1964 Mustang, one that had probably been stored in a garage, had stopped at the gas station. The owner looked bewildered at the gas pump, until someone shouted, “It needs electricity to pump!”

  Nico had been tempted to tell the guy that if he was desperate for gas, he needed a sharp knife and a metal tub. Crawling under a car and poking a hole in the gas tank was a lot safer than trying to siphon gas.

  He disregarded the guy’s conundrum, keeping his promise to himself to only stop for rest, necessities, an emergency, or to eat. So far he had been lucky and hadn’t run into any trouble. Staying the course was his game plan.

  Further along Main Street he chuckled at the sign on an old warehouse named Horners, advertising wool and mohair, obviously from the sheep and goat farming once so prevalent.

  After crossing the Leona River, it was only a matter of minutes before he came to the edge of the town.