Surviving The Collapse Super Boxset: EMP Post Apocalyptic Fiction

by Roger Hayden

  The transmission went out again, frustrating everyone in the room.

  “Come on!” Kessler shouted. After flickering several times, the image re-appeared, but it had changed. No longer was it the president of the United States, but a man dressed in desert military fatigues and wearing a black mask over his face, standing in front of a large draped ISIS flag.

  At first, Craig thought something was wrong with the TV—interference from another channel. But the glaring hate-filled eyes showing between the slits in the mask told him all he needed to know.

  “Who the hell is that?” Kessler blurted out. Everyone gasped. Some seemed to whimper in fear.

  “Quiet!” McMillian said.

  All eyes were locked on the screen. No one made a sound or movement. The image on the screen was so surreal, Craig wasn’t sure if this was really happening. And for a moment, he thought he was looking at Ma’mun. The masked man soon began to speak in English as Arabic subtitles ran at the bottom of the screen.

  “This is a message to the United States of America. I come to you today to deliver our caliphate. What you have seen so far has only been the beginning. For we have much greater things in store for you if you do not meet our demands. As your cities burn and your people die, you may ask how your country got here. What have you done to deserve the retribution of the Islamic State? I have a simple answer to most of that, and the answers lie in yourselves.”

  The masked man spoke with great conviction and intensity.

  “First you declare a war on Muslims, invade our countries, and kill our people! Then… you lose interest and pull out of the lands you ravaged to go back to business. You change the television channel. You don’t even think of the Middle East anymore. You set up puppet governments in hope that it will be enough, and you declare your illegal wars a success.

  “You soon meddle into Syria, then wage an assault on us from the air—too cowardly to fight us on the battlefield. We kidnap your American aid workers and journalists. We release videos beheading them. In response, you ignore them. We take over city after city in Iraq, but yet, you still ignore us. We spread into Egypt, Libya, Greece, Italy, France, Germany, and England. You ignore us. Now the time has come when you will ignore us no longer. Now we have your attention.”

  The man stopped, raised his fist, and then pulled his mask off. The officials in the operations room watched in eerie quiet.

  The matted black hair, released from the mask, fell in dense spirals that coiled around his ears and neck. His thin, sunken face displayed a thick beard, while his eyes retained their wild glare.

  “This is the face of your enemy. Most of my own men haven’t seen it. Why do I show myself to you now? So you can know that I am real. So you know that the thousands of sleeper cells living within your country are real. My name is Abu Omar Allawi, and I’m here to deliver your awakening.”

  Craig whispered to Walker, “So much for our inside informant”

  Omar dug into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper.

  “If you desire to live for much longer, this is what you must do…” He began reading from the list; impossible demands that could only be made by an organization with nothing to lose: Mass conversions of all Americans to Islam. The destruction of all churches, museums, and other western monuments. He then read a list of names, those to be brought to his sharia court for sentencing. The names included several government officials, entertainers, politicians, and suspected spies against ISIS. Craig’s name was on the list near the end. It sent shivers down his spine.

  Walker turned to him, unsure if he had just heard the name right. Craig nodded, confirming it. At the closing, Omar leaned down out of the frame and reemerged in front of the camera holding two severed heads by the hair, one in each of his gloved hands.

  “Oh God!” Kessler shouted.

  The room gasped in horror.

  At first, Omar looked at the heads indifferently, but then dangled them in front of the camera proudly.

  “In my left hand I hold the head of a young man named Nasser. He was once a part of our organization. Not anymore. In my right hand I hold the head of a young American convert named Sean. They were both as dedicated to our cause as are hundreds of thousands throughout the world. Somewhere they lost their way. They trusted in you and your system by going to the authorities, hoping to find redemption.”

  Omar shook both heads and shouted out. “There is no redemption beyond the grace of Allah. And you will learn that soon enough.” He paused and took a deep breath.

  “I’m showing you their heads so you can see what happens to traitors to our cause. If I’m willing to do this to my own brothers, you can only imagine what we have in store for non-believers.”

  He paused again.

  “You have twenty-four hours to comply.”

  The screen flickered and then went to black.

  Fighting Back

  Craig found Rachael, Nick, and Husein in a small upstairs lobby, sitting in their chairs, glued to the television as if they were in a hospital waiting room. Craig was hoping that they hadn’t seen the news yet, but the reports were on every station. They had seen everything, from the burning power plants to the president’s address to Omar’s message. Technicians had yet to discover how ISIS had tapped into the broadcast signal, but it showed that their organization was just as technologically savvy as it was barbaric.

  Rachael was noticeably shaken. Nick looked pale and sick. Husein was quiet and reserved as always. As Craig walked into the room, he realized they had seen everything.

  “That’s enough for now,” he said, reaching up and turning off the television.

  “Was that for real?” Nick asked.

  “Was what real?” Craig asked.

  “The man with the heads.”

  Craig looked at Rachael. “You shouldn’t have let him see that. If you want to watch TV, I’ll put on a movie or something.”

  “How can you even think about a movie at a time like this?” Rachael said, clutching her cell phone. “I still haven’t been able to get ahold of my parents. I have no idea if they’re okay.”

  “We’ll find out. I promise.”

  “What about your parents?” she asked.

  Craig stammered. “I-I’m sure they’re okay.”

  Rachael stood up. “You mean you haven’t even called them yet? Doesn’t your family come first, or is that just talk?”

  “Damn it, Rachael. I will! I’m trying to stop this thing. Don’t you understand? Don’t you see what’s going on?”

  Nick and Husein looked scared

  “Of course I do,” Rachael said back. “I see all too well. The government can’t stop any of this. That’s why we need to get our loved ones and get the hell out of here.”

  “And go where?”

  “Canada? Guatemala? I don’t care. Anywhere but here.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Craig said.

  Nick stood up in protest. “Would you guys stop arguing, please?”

  For a moment, everything went quiet. Craig looked at Rachael with a sign of remorse. The fire in her eyes quickly died down.

  “I’m sorry,” Craig said, touching her sleeved arm. The room was cold, and her light-blue cardigan wasn’t helping.

  “Me too. I know you’re doing your best. I just feel so trapped here. So helpless. Why can’t anyone stop this?”

  “They’re trying.”

  “I know,” Rachael said.

  Husein stood and interjected. “Can I say something?”

  All eyes went on him. Craig nodded and told him, “sure.”

  “There are people just like ISIS in my country. This is how they operate. They drive everyone out. They convince people that the only option they have is to stay and die or flee and live. No one fights them even though we clearly outnumber them. That’s what I don’t understand.” Husein paused and look up at Craig. “Why can’t we fight them? Why can’t the entire world stop them? Couldn’t we, if we really wanted to?”

  Crai
g walked over to Husein and patted him on the back. “I don’t know, Husein. No one knows for sure. I don’t understand the world nowadays any more than you do. But I do understand that ISIS is a cancer that will rot us out, and our weakness so far has only made them stronger.”

  Rachael stood back and watched the two talk. It warmed her heart. She knew Husein had nowhere else to go. She wondered if, when everything was said and done, they would take him in and have him join their family.

  She thought of all the people she loved—her friends and family—and hoped to see them again. And as she watched Craig talk with so much conviction, she knew that he was going to put himself into harm’s way again. Not out of desire, but out of necessity. That’s who he was. It was in his nature.

  Craig walked over to her and took her hands in his. She looked into his eyes.

  “You know I have to do this,” he said, quietly.

  She wanted to ask him exactly what it was, but she already knew too well. He was leaving again. She nodded, holding back tears. Craig turned to Nick and Husein.

  “Why don’t you guys go to the snack room next door and grab some sodas? Give us a minute.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few bills. “Here…”

  Nick and Husein agreed and began to exit the room. Craig then called them back.

  “Stay close and keep an eye on each other.”

  They nodded and left as Rachael approached Craig and wrapped her arms around him, placing her head on his shoulder. “I’ve been thinking. Maybe we can take Husein in, after all of this is over.”

  Craig nodded, put his arm around her and touched her stomach. “I think it’s time we consider something else while we’re at it. You know, for when this is all over.”

  Rachael’s bright, crystal eyes looked up at Craig and into his. They locked hands and leaned closer for a kiss. Craig slowly broke away and went to the door.

  “Where are you going?” Rachael asked, confused.

  Craig smiled and locked the door. “We should have a few minutes while they’re away.” He sauntered back over to her as she smiled back.

  “Is that all it’s going to take?” she said.

  He touched his finger to her lips. “Careful now. Your taunts are only going to encourage me further.”

  They kissed again as he she ran her hands through his scruffy hair. Craig pulled off her cardigan and rode his hands up her shirt as their lips pressed against each other. Craig moved back to one of the chairs as Rachael sat on top of him—their hips moving against each other in a passion they hadn’t experienced in some time.

  Craig and Husein walked down the long dimly-lit hallway from the modest snack room, heading back. Both carried a soda and small bag of chips. Everything was eerily quiet, and they hadn’t seen any FBI or government men, either on their way from the waiting room, or now, coming back.

  “This place is weird,” Nick said.

  “Yes, but I do feel a little safer here, don’t you?” Husein asked.

  Nick paused and thought to himself. “Yeah. I guess. I wanna go back home, though.”

  “No, you don’t. Trust me.” Husein knew he was being vague, but he didn’t know how much Craig wanted him to reveal about the shootout they had encountered at the house. From Nick’s expression, he realized he had already said too much.

  “What do you mean?” Nick asked.

  “Nothing. It’s just… it’s very dangerous out there.”

  “What’s it like where you’re from in—where was it again?”

  “Chechnya,” Husein answered.

  “Where’s that, in Russia or something?”

  “Close. It’s a part of Russia, yes. But that’s in great dispute right now.”

  They stopped at the door to the waiting room and were surprised to find it shut.

  “What the hell?” Nick said. He pulled at the doorknob and turned it, but it was locked.

  “Maybe they went somewhere else for a minute,” Husein said.

  Nick immediately started knocking. “Hello? You guys in there?” No response came. At the other end of the hall, they saw some shadows moving toward them. At first glance, Nick assumed it to be his parents, but instead made out another man walking slowly with a cane and a woman next to him holding his arm. The sight of the strangers made both Husein and Nick nervous.

  “Who’s that?” Nick asked.

  “I don’t know,” Husein said. “Maybe we should get out of here.”

  The couple were getting closer, lumbering toward them like two zombies. As they came into view the man squinted ahead and made eye contact with Nick.

  “Let’s go,” Nick said.

  Husein agreed, and they started to run.

  “Nick? Nick, is that you?” the man called out.

  Nick stopped suddenly, nearly tripping on the gray carpet. Husein stopped as well. Nick looked ahead to see who the man was but still wasn’t sure.

  “It’s me, your Dad’s partner, Mr. Patterson.”

  Nick remained still as Husein stood nearby, ready to run. The man walked slowly with a limp, and looked as if he might fall over had the woman not been at his side, holding his arm. Slowly things started coming back to Nick. His dad’s FBI partner had been shot. That much he had heard. They had met a few times. Nick remembered him.

  “Mr. Patterson?” he asked, walking cautiously toward him.

  “Yes, it’s me. Where you running to?”

  Nick looked at Husein and they both laughed. “Nowhere,” Nick said. “Guess we got a little spooked. That’s all.”

  He could see his dad’s partner clearly. He was dressed in a suit and tie, but was hunched over, still in some kind of pain. His cane had three prongs on the end for balance and there looked to be some padding around his stomach, under his shirt.

  “Where are your parents?” Patterson asked. “I was told they were up here.”

  The blond woman was wearing a navy-blue suit jacket with a cluster-leaf pinned to the lapel. She feigned a smile at Nick and said, “Hello.” She examined him closer. “My, you’ve grown since the last time we saw you.”

  Nick remembered. It had been a year or two ago. They had come over for dinner. He looked around. “I don’t know where my parents are. We went to grab some snacks and when we came back the door was locked.” Nick walked to the door and pulled on it again.

  Patterson studied Husein, who stood quietly, looking at the floor. “Who’s your friend?”

  “That’s Hussein. He’s from Chechnya.”

  Suspicious, Patterson narrowed his eyes. “Really?”

  “Hello,” Husein said, offering his hand.

  “Nice to meet you,” the woman said. “My name is Kathleen.”

  The door opened and Rachael popped her head out—hair a mess. “Nick,” she said, “I’m talking with your father right now. Why don’t you two hang out in the break room for a little bit?” She then caught a glimpse of Patterson and his wife.

  Surprised, Rachael froze. “Oh my God…”

  She stepped out of the room. “Josh? Kathleen? When did you…” She moved toward them and hugged them both. Patterson winced in pain.

  “There, there. Easy…” he said. “Still recovering here.”

  Rachael stepped back, her face beaming. “I’m so glad you’re all right. I couldn’t believe it when I heard it.”

  Kathleen looked at Patterson with an arched brow. “He shouldn’t have left the hospital. I told him not too. Tried to fight it all I could, but he insisted.”

  “It was very important that I come here. After I heard what happened to Craig and you and the whole family.”

  “We’re fine,” Rachael said, assuredly. “Very shaken up by what’s happening, but we’re all okay.”

  Craig emerged from the room, tucking his shirt in, and appearing caught off guard with all the commotion outside the room.

  “What the heck were you guys doing in there?” Nick asked.

  Craig ignored the question and went straight to Patterson, stari
ng at him in disbelief. “Is it really you?”

  Patterson smiled faintly. “In the flesh…”

  Craig took another step forward and hugged Patterson as Kathleen continued to hold his arm. “What are you doing here? You need to recover and rest.”

  “That’s what I told him,” Kathleen said. “He’s stubborn as hell. The both of you are.”

  “I’m glad to see you, buddy,” Craig said, sounding a little choked up. “How are you feeling? Honestly.”

  Patterson held his hand against the padding over his stomach. “Getting shot in the gut hurts like hell. I don’t recommend it, but I’ll live.”

  “It hasn’t been the same without you.”

  Patterson smiled and then looked down the hall. There was no one coming from either direction. “Listen. Can we talk somewhere? Privately?”

  Craig looked puzzled. “Yeah. Uh, sure.”

  “Just you and me,” Patterson said, signaling with his fingers. He leaned toward Kathleen. “I’m gonna need a moment alone with Craig.”

  Craig turned to Rachael. “Yes. Can you guys just hang back here for a minute?”

  Nick sighed. Rachael nodded and gave Craig a quick kiss. “We’ll be fine. You two go catch up.”

  Kathleen didn’t seem to want to leave Patterson’s side. “It’s okay,” he told her.

  She shrugged her shoulders at Craig. “Take care of him. Don’t leave his side.” Patterson hugged his wife and then walked off slowly as Craig held his arm. They left their spouses and went down the hall to an empty conference room.

  Once seated at the large wood-stained table, Craig pulled one of the swivel chairs closer to Patterson. At the front of the room were a white marker board, podium and American flag. For Craig, it was nice to finally have a one-on-one with his partner whom he had feared would take much longer to recover. Patterson seemed in high spirits, but his stubble-ridden face, and sunken eyes were evidence of the constant pain he was still in as he grappled with his injuries.