Defending Home: An EMP Survival Story (Surviving The Shock Book 4)

by Connor Mccoy

  Lauren strained to make out a man around that area. “Really?”

  “I told you about motion earlier. I know how to pick him out. He’s there, hiding in the bush near the tree. Oh, never mind. He has gone. And he’s going roughly west. So, we best get moving. If Stark starts something, we may end up caught in it.”

  Tom took a second gaze through the scope. He had to hand it to his squad. After they had arrived in this spot off the state road, they set up everything in lightning-fast time. They had set up a blind across the street from the camp, and with the help of a setup of three telescopes plus watchers with binoculars, they could get a good look into the camp plus keep an eye on Rosa, at least when she was out in the open. Unfortunately, heavy trees made a complete observation of the area impossible, plus Rosa could still move out of range.

  It was a definite risk. She went in wearing dirty jeans, boots and a buttoned-up denim shirt, plus a black rag to mimic the look of the black armbands Tom and Cheryl had observed the captives inside wearing. It didn’t have the red cross on it, but the band likely would fool anyone not looking closely at it.

  Tom allowed Jake and Sam, who was Rosa’s cousin, to keep a close eye on Rosa’s progress as Tom swiveled his scope around to explore more of the camp. He was able to spot small houses in the distance, plus what he thought was a gravel road. It almost looked like a town beyond, perhaps the town Oak Lawn as Karen had described from the map. Also, fences cut through sections of the camp. Frequently, Tom would observe small gatherings of people on the other sides of them. Armed men would guide camp residents around, usually to gardens or wells.

  Tom’s expression morphed into a scowl as he observed how these men acted. Many of them were impatient with the residents, sometimes shouting at them when they slowed down. Some of these poor people looked quite thin, almost dangerously gaunt. They shouldn’t be up and about doing work. And judging by the healthy, plentiful crops these workers were producing, there should be more than enough food for them.

  Tom tightened the scope’s focus. Now he watched an armed man guzzle down the last drink from a plastic bottle, then toss it to the ground. Then he ordered a woman to pick it up. As she leaned over to get it, he lightly kicked her leg, sending her falling down. Two other men nearby laughed.

  Dammit, Tom thought. Some of these men are definitely scumbags. Rosa, watch yourself.

  The woman hurried out of frame, but one of the men followed her. Unfortunately, they vanished behind a small shack. Tom turned the telescope, but only ended up with trees in the way. He wouldn’t see how that scene played out.

  “It’s a damn prison camp for sure,” Tom said.

  “No joke,” Sam said, scratching his goateed chin. “I just watched one dude kick the shit out of another one over some shitty argument. Couldn’t make it out over here.”

  Tom pushed his telescope back down to the street level. The road was quiet, with no line of people streaming into the camp. The camp seemed to have at least two entrances, one main one that constantly was guarded, and another, possibly secret one, several yards to the right. Occasionally, one or two men would walk out of a gap between trees off the side of the road.

  Tom then spotted someone familiar walking into the open. The person was crossing the street and headed into the forest on Tom’s side. There was no mistaking it. That was Jess, one of the men who had greeted Tom and Cheryl when they had arrived at the camp.

  He got an idea.

  “Guys,” Tom said, “I think we may be able to move up to option two a little sooner. Keep an eye out. I’ll be right back.”

  Jess finished pulling the pail out of the water when Tom’s voice cut through the air. “Need some help?”

  The man spun around. He looked at Tom, standing on the high ground overlooking him, with a stunned look that just turned more confused as he recognized Tom. “Thomas Criver, right?”

  “Guess you didn’t expect to see me again in the deep woods, huh?” Tom asked.

  “You seem to be in good spirits.” Jess set the bucket down. “Have you reconsidered my offer to stay at our camp?”

  “Actually, I am curious about the accommodations.” Tom started down the slope toward Jess.

  “There’s been a few complaints. Inadequate food, water…” He stopped in front of Jess. “Fighting. Possible murder. And possibly sexual assault. Sorry Jess, I’m not interested in relocating to your humble abode. But I think everyone in there probably is looking for greener pastures.”

  Jess twitched. He looked askance, not putting Tom in his direct line of vision. “You have a strange sense of humor.”

  “Really? My wife says I’m a laugh riot.” Tom stepped back into Jess’ line of sight.

  “But I’m not joking this time. The jig’s up, Jess. I know what’s going in that camp.” Tom lowered his voice. “Level with me. I’m not here to start a fight. I want those poor people to come out free. And I want to believe you don’t like what’s going on in there either.”

  Jess bit his lip. “I think maybe you should leave.” Then he reached for his bucket.

  “Fine,” Tom said, “You don’t want to talk about it. Direct me to the head honcho. I’ll just take my complaints to him.”

  “There is nobody you need to talk to,” Jess said.

  “Then I’ll just follow you back to camp until you do run into somebody I should talk to.”

  Jess put down his bucket. With that heavy load, he had no hope of getting away from Tom. So, what would he do next?

  “Hey, Jess!” A red-bearded man approached from the left-hand side. “What are you screwing around here for? Hey, who’s this?”

  “No one.” Jess quickly picked up his bucket. “He was leaving.”

  A few more men arrived, including Chapman. Tom put on the biggest smile he could and approached them. “Well, this is my lucky day. I just was telling Jess that I’d like to talk to your boss.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” the bearded man asked.

  “Boss. The guy who writes your checks or whatever the shit he pays you with. The secret’s out about your camp. I’m here to negotiate a peaceful transfer of all your human labor to a place where they can be free.” Tom took one step closer, his boot crunching a twig underfoot. “And if you like, we can talk about finding you guys a place to live.”

  Jess passed up Tom. The bearded man chortled. “Screw off.” He took a turn back toward the way in which he had come. The other men prepared to leave.

  But Tom grabbed the man’s arm, turning him back around. “I’m serious. Who’s your leader?”

  “There is no leader. We’re in charge.”

  “Really?” Tom released him. “Ever heard of ‘Josh Clark?’” He stretched out the name for emphasis. “Rumor has it he’s big in these parts.”

  Tom studied their faces carefully. A few twitches ran across their flesh. Bingo. They did know about him.

  “Let’s cut the shit, fellas. I don’t know what this guy has over you, but I’m offering you a chance to get away from him, make a clean break.” Tom walked to the center of the group.

  “Let those people go. You want to put Clark out of business so he doesn’t come after you? I know some good men who’ll back you up. I’m serious about this. I’ll even provide you food and supplies as a show of good faith.”

  The men exchanged looks. C’mon, Tom thought. I’d rather solve this without having to blow anyone’s ass away.

  Finally, the red-bearded man shook his head and gave Tom a mighty shove in the chest. “You talk too much. Let’s go.” Then he jabbed a finger in Tom’s face. “And I don’t want to see you again, ever.”

  Tom’s temper flared. He just had given these guys a peace offering and instead they just pissed in his face?

  This time he seized the red-bearded man by the collar. “Dammit, don’t you walk away from me. Does Clark have your balls in a locked box or something? You’ve been holding people prisoner for God’s sake! This isn’t a joke!”

  Jess shook
his head. “Criver, this is stupid, don’t do this.”

  One of the other men responded with something more forceful than words—a rifle butt into the back of Tom Criver’s head. Tom slammed headfirst into the dirt.

  Chapter Sixteen

  After turning away from the shack and letting out a chuckle, Antonio had taken a deep drink from his flask. While intended for water, his flask was actually full of wine. The man sighed happily. Being a camp enforcer had its benefits.

  He quickly stowed the flask. Better hold off on drinking any more for a while. This was a high value prisoner he was checking up on. Unlike the other residents, this man couldn’t be trusted to move about anywhere in the camp on his own. It wasn’t every day you ended up with a doctor.

  Oh, what the hell, he thought, just one more drink…

  He didn’t get the chance to reach for the flask. Something jabbed him in the back of the head.

  “Okay, Sunshine, don’t move,” said the voice of a woman.

  That was a gun. It felt like a gun anyway. Antonio wasn’t going to chance that it wasn’t. “What’s the deal? Who are you?”

  “Police Sergeant Nadia Daniels. Ordinarily, I’d bust your ass for false imprisonment, but I don’t have a jail handy. So, I’m going to have to settle for the key to that padlock and you not alerting the whole camp that we’re here.”

  Antonio fumbled in his pocket for the keys. Damn. How the hell did this happen? I’m getting waylaid by a chick with a gun?

  He got them! Antonio pulled out the keys and held them up. “Here. Here. Take them.”

  Nadia grabbed them. “Thanks.” Antonio felt the pressure on the back of his head lift.

  But not before something blunt smacked him in the head, turning the whole world around him to black seconds before he hit the ground. When he awoke, he’d have one hell of a headache.

  Lauren jammed the key into the lock and turned. The padlock popped off the wooden door. Nadia then flipped the handle, freeing the door and allowing Lauren to fling it open. A burst of stale air assaulted their nostrils. The shack wasn’t much more than two rooms that nobody had bothered to clean in a while—a bedroom and a small living space with an old, rusted sink.

  A cough cut through the air. Someone was sitting down on the wooden floor. Lauren and Nadia hurried inside and took him by the arms. It was Doctor Tran!

  “What?” The doctor looked around, sleepily, “What’s going on?”

  “Doctor Tran, it’s me! Lauren! This is my friend, Nadia Daniels. You met her once before,” Lauren said as she helped Tran up.

  “Lauren.” Tran panted. “Good Lord, get me out of here. These assholes are killing me and they don’t even know it. There’s probably tons of roach crap lying around in this dump.”

  Lauren chuckled. “My pleasure,” she said as she led Doctor Tran out into the open, joining Carson who was waiting for them outside. Once outside, the trio took care not to trip over Antonio’s unconscious body.

  The shack lay off the gravel road, just one of about five small structures in the area. None of the camp enforcers had noticed them, yet, but that was bound to change.

  “Kovacs…” Lauren looked around, “Where is he?”

  “Kovacs?” Tran coughed, trying to clear his lungs of the foul shack air. “You brought some muscle with you?”

  “You could say that.” Nadia wiped sweat off her face.

  They soon got their answer as Kovacs approached them from around the shack, with about five people in tow. “I got them! It had taken longer than I expected, but here they are, just as our friend back there described.”

  Lauren’s expression brightened as she saw them. “Hey! Mister Diaz, Mister Crowder, Miss Riley…” She rushed toward them.

  “You’re all from Eagleton!” The five rescued people were exhausted, but looked happy to see her.

  “Is that all of them?” Nadia asked.

  “Hey!” Tran broke free of Nadia, marching toward Kovacs. “You’re the one who led us into that ambush. Got us all captured by this goose-stepping thugs!”

  A couple of the rescued Eagletonians backed away from him when it dawned on them who he was. Kovacs grimaced. “Yes, it is as you say. But I’ve turned over a new leaf. I think that’s the phrase.”

  “He’s helping us.” Lauren rushed between Tran and the other rescued captives.

  “Seriously. He’s on our side. He helped us bust the other prisoners free near the boathouse where they held you. They’re all on their way back to Eagleton if they’re not home already.”

  Tran still fixed a wary look at Kovacs. “I see.”

  “Is this everybody from Eagleton?” Nadia asked.

  “Yes, yes. I did a quick head count of everyone. I tracked all the prisoners they had taken on or off the boat. It was just these five. They thought we were struck hard by the disease and were going to leave the others for dead.” Tran chuckled. “Our little fake-out plan worked well for them, it looks like.”

  “Let us laugh about your good fortune later.” Kovacs looked out to the camp. “We must go now, before—”

  A spat of gunfire interrupted him. Everyone hurried toward the side of the shack. Lauren, Nadia and Kovacs aimed their firearms out in front of them and panned around, but no bullets landed anywhere near them. Those shots were too far away.

  “There’s a battle somewhere else.” Kovacs’ face tightened. “Stark. It must be him.”

  Three more pops filled the air. They came from the other side of the gravel road. Shouts peppered the air, and between two small houses, the group spotted a couple of men running past them to their left.

  “Great. The whole camp’s going to be up in arms soon,” Carson said.

  “Then we haul ass,” Nadia said.

  “Head for our escape route.” Kovacs walked to the front of the five captives. “Hopefully, Stark does us a favor and draws their fire to him.”

  Kovacs quickly spotted a route from the shack to the nearest large tree. After giving the okay, the whole group fled toward it. No incoming gunfire. They weren’t spotted. They proceeded like this, fleeing from tree to tree or tree to house, trying to keep undercover. For a while it seemed to work. Occasionally, they would spot an armed man or two running the other way, not taking notice of them.

  But then their luck changed. As the group fled single file between two small shacks, a bullet popped a piece of shingle off one of the roofs. That was close—way too close. Someone had spotted them.

  “Get down!” Kovacs cried. The group dove to the ground while Kovacs raised his firearm, turned, and returned fire twice.

  “We got someone on our tail?” Nadia asked.

  “He’s fled back the other way,” Kovacs replied.

  But before any one of them could breathe a sigh of relief, gunfire again erupted, this time from in front of them. Lauren, Nadia and Kovacs turned their guns in that direction. To their horror, there was no more cover in front of them except a grassy field and a set of woods on the other side. It would take probably half a minute to cross that threshold. Rapidly approaching footsteps alarmed them even more. Someone was coming. The trio readied their guns for whoever showed up.

  “Whoa!” Rosa raised her hands, one of which clutched a gun. “Easy Lauren, I’m good!”

  “Rosa!” Lauren laughed in shock and relief. “How’d you get here?”

  “I’m doing Mama Ninja duty. C’mon, I plugged a shooter who was on you. He ran off, but more of his friends are coming. I know a path through those woods to the way out. C’mon!”

  Lauren, Nadia, Tran and the rest of the group rushed out of the cover. As Lauren, Nadia and Rosa ran with them, they kept an eye out for the camp behind them, their guns ready to return fire. Just then, more armed men began emerging in the distance. At the same time, Kovacs was lagging behind. He was startled by someone’s presence.

  “Kovacs!” Lauren shouted as the group neared the trees. “C’mon, what are you doing?”

  “Garcia,” Kovacs said, “He’s out there.�
�

  Lauren looked to see what had left Kovacs so stunned. The man Kovacs was looking at was approaching—with a gun pointed in their direction.

  Damn! Tom stumbled through the trees, hoping to God he hadn’t suffered a concussion, and that he actually was going in the right direction. The last thing he wanted was to run into those goons again and have them decide to plug a bullet in his brain to finally be rid of him.

  They could have iced me earlier, Tom thought. Why didn’t they? As he pushed a hanging branch out of his face, he pondered their actions. It was likely they just didn’t want to waste the ammo shooting him. They probably understood you can’t buy bullets from the local gun shop any longer. I’m just glad they didn’t shove a knife in my gut, he added to himself.

  “Tom! Tom!” Cheryl shouted from up ahead.

  Tom blinked his eyes, pulling the world into sharper focus. His wife rushed toward him, with Lee and two other men behind her. “Where the hell did you go?” she asked.

  Rubbing the back of his head, Tom groaned. “Thought I’d strike up a friendly conversation with the natives. They weren’t interested.”

  Cheryl had taken a look at the back of his head. “Damn, that’s a nasty mark. What did they do?”

  “Rammed me with the butt of a gun,” Tom said, “I saw Jess, one of the guys we met at the camp. I thought I could talk some sense into him. Then a bunch of his pals showed up. They know about Clark. I could see it in their faces, but they flat out lied to me. Either they’re too scared of Clark, or they’re enjoying lording control over those people in the camp. What about Rosa? Has she come back yet?”

  “Sam’s still keeping watch,” Lee said, “Let’s get you back to camp. Maybe Cheryl’s got a miracle herb that’ll knock out that headache.”

  Cheryl made a fist. “I’ll knock that headache out all right. It’s called wifey advice, as in ‘Don’t wander off alone.’” She wrapped her arm around Tom’s shoulders and gave him a pinch on his left shoulder.