“Damn, this is worse than I thought. Are you guys safe?”
“Yes, honey. No one in town has turned yet and we are barricaded in. We’ll be okay. Plus, God is watching over us.”
“Good. You guys need to hold tight. Connor is packing the truck, and we’ll be leaving shortly. You need to get to a defensible spot, get enough supplies for a few days, and stay there! We’ll be down as soon as we can. Then we’ll pick you up and head to Alaska. You remember our apocalypse plan, right?”
She chuckled a little. “I remember, but I always thought you boys were silly for having it.”
“So did we, until today. Either way, we’re putting it into motion. You need to stay put and stay safe!”
“We will, James. Your dad wants to talk. I love you, Son. I’m praying for you boys.”
“Thanks, Mom. I love you, too. We’ll need all the prayers we can get if we’re to survive this.”
“Son, are you there?” Jack said after a brief pause. There was a strength and determination in his voice that always comforted James and gave him courage.
“Yes, Dad, I’m here. Are you really safe? What’s the weapon situation?”
“Don’t worry about us, Son. We have enough guns and ammo thanks to some of your great-uncles. We’re safe and secure for now. The… whatever it is, hasn’t hit us yet. We’ll be fine. You just watch your brother’s back, okay? I’m counting on you two.”
“I will, Dad. We’ll be okay. We’re more prepared than most. I love you.”
“I love you too, Son. Now remember, we are Anddersons. We never back down, and we never give up. Mess with the best, die like the rest.”
That was exactly what James needed to hear. He wiped a tear from his eye and handed the phone to Connor, who had just walked in.
James stood there for a moment, visibly at ease. A great weight had been lifted, replaced by determination and a desire to survive. Their parents were safe for now. Mom was praying for them, and that meant she still had faith. And if she does, so do I, he thought. While he didn’t know all the theological answers or reasons why God would allow this to happen, he did know a few things. The End Times were talked about in the Bible as a time when God would let evil reign for seven years, and the Four Horsemen would come and destroy a fourth of the population with—among other things—a plague. He didn’t know if that was what this was, and he didn’t care. He knew who his Savior was and where he and his family would go after all this. And even in this, he could feel deep in his heart that God was with him.
Quickly running into the basement, he got all the ammo he could in one trip, and headed back up the stairs and out onto the porch. He walked back in as his brother finished talking to their mom.
“I love you, too, and we’ll call you soon,” Connor said, hanging up the phone. “They’re safe.”
“Yes they are, and God is with them and us,” James said, going to his brother and hugging him.
“Yes, he is, even in these times.”
They broke the embrace and stood there, looking at one another. Connor grasped James’s forearm. “And we also have each other. We’ll always have each other. Brothers till we die.”
“Amen to that, brother. Now let’s get packed.”
They spent the next half hour getting all their gear together.
Luckily, they were hunters and keen on buying ammo in bulk. Together they had thousands of rounds of .223/5.56, .45, .40 and 9mm, plus hundreds of rounds for their shotguns and rifles. They took their primary guns out and put them on the porch, then put the remaining in a duffle and threw it into the back of the truck. Once they had their food, water, ammo, bedding, clothes, backpacks, and miscellaneous gear in the bed, they packed the backseat.
Lying in the middle was James’s Benelli semi-auto 12-gauge shotgun, his Kimber Mountain Ascent .280 rifle with a 4-16x44 Vortex scope and katana, along with Connor’s 10-gauge pump-action shotgun, Remington .308 rifle with a 3-10x42 Leupold scope, and machete. Also in the backseat they had plenty of ammo for the guns, along with some food, water, and other miscellaneous gear they might need in a hurry.
“Well, I think we got it all,” Connor said, looking at the loaded truck—a white Dodge RAM 1500 crew cab with a lift kit, brush guard, and matching topper.
“I think so, it’s almost like we were already prepared for this,” James chuckled.
“I guess we kind of were.”
James picked up his AR and chambered a round, his brother doing the same.
“Hey, look at us,” James said, pointing at their reflection in the glass screen door as they stood there, holding their ARs.
Connor wore his Kryptek camouflage shirt and pants, combat boots, black hat, aviator sunglasses, and Kimber 1911 handgun on his hip. He had on his tactical vest, which held three magazines for his handgun, six magazines for his AR, a KA-BAR knife, and a multi-tool. James wore his Kryptek camouflage shirt, hat, and pants, hiking boots, transition lens glasses, and Springfield XDM handgun on his hip. He had on his tactical vest with three magazines for his handgun, six magazines for his AR, a long-bladed hunting knife, and a multi-tool. They had attached the tactical flashlights to their ARs, which were now fully decked out.
“We look badass!” James said
“Yeah, we do.”
“Well, let’s lock and load then.”
James climbed into the driver’s seat and stuck his AR next to him, going through a mental checklist. With everything checked off, he said a quick prayer for protection and guidance. Connor went through the house one last time, making sure they hadn’t forgotten anything.
“We’re all good to go, bro. Let’s hit the road,” Connor said, getting into the truck and setting his AR next to him.
The brothers pulled away from their house and looked up the hill to their parent’s house. The boys’ house was old and poorly made but livable and the right price for the brothers. Their parent’s house was brand new. They’d built it a couple of years ago, moving out of the old house and letting James and Connor buy it. The family had lived here for years, and now in the course of a single weekend, everything had changed. They looked at the two houses and rolling gumbo hills, knowing this would be the last time they ever laid eyes on it. Finally, they pulled away, heading down the driveway.
“Hey, Connor, put on some tunes.”
“Are you kidding me right now? You actually remembered to bring your iPod?” Connor asked, reaching down to hook up the iPod and then flipping through it.
“Just because it’s the end of the world doesn’t mean we can’t ride in style!”
They turned off the dirt road onto the highway.
After a few minutes James asked, “What’s taking so long, bro? I’d like some music today.”
“One sec. You’ll thank me when I’m done.”
Just then the music came on. It was Back from the Dead by Skillet. They started cracking up; it was just too ironic.
“Let me guess—a zombie playlist?”
“Close. It’s our Apocalypse Road Trip playlist,” Connor said as they continued to smile. “You know what? This isn’t going to be that terrible. I mean, we’re still alive, and so are our parents. We’re armed to the teeth and have all the skills needed to survive. We can stay alive and start over. This doesn’t have to be the end.”
“You’re very right, brother, and most importantly, we have each other. As long as we have that, we’ll survive. Don’t ever forget, we ride together.”
“We die together.”
“Badass brothers for life!” they said in unison as they sped down the highway to face the apocalypse.
2
Breaking News
Friday, day before the “official” outbreak
“If you’re just now joining us, nothing has been heard from Hill City. A dozen Texas state troopers have gone in to help with the power outage and Texas governor, Henry Price, urges citizens not to worry. We—wait—” There was a brief pause then the news announcer continued. “I’m getting some ne
w information here. Yes, it seems that Lufkin, Jasper, and Nacogdoches are also experiencing blackouts. We just—”
The radio cut off and Emmett stood up from the couch. He’d been hoping his gut feeling was wrong and that the murders had been nothing, but now he knew his fears were well founded. He thought back to his past employer and shook his head.
Their greed will be the death of us all, he thought as he opened a drawer and pulled out a Beretta M9 handgun.
He put on a shoulder holster, sliding the gun on one side and two magazines on the other. He then pulled out a tactical belt with another Beretta M9, six magazines of ammo, a tactical knife, and a few pouches. Putting the belt on, he walked over and looked in the mirror. He had short black hair, brown eyes, a scar on his left cheek, and features like a hawk. He was in great shape, which made it hard to tell he was forty-years-old. He wore a white t-shirt, loose fitting jeans, and combat boots. He put on his black cowboy hat and dark brown duster, which had an odd assortment of items in the pockets. Then he pulled two duffle bags out from under the bed and went outside.
He put the bags in the bed of his black, four-door, Ford F-450 Super Duty, but it wasn’t a normal F-450. The year before, he’d put over three hundred thousand dollars of upgrades into it, making it a fortress on wheels. He’d upgraded the engine, tires, and suspension, and the inside was as tricked out as it could get. There were bars over the windows, including the windshield and topper windows, which were all made of bulletproof glass. The body of the truck was also bulletproof with extra plating welded on in strategic locations. Add to that the matching heavy-duty topper had a pivoting shooting bench welded to the roof and the heavy duty grill guard with a winch.
There was an assortment of canned and dried food and drinks under the backseat, and ammo was shoved into the pockets on the backs of his seat covers. In the middle of the backseat was a weapons rack with a semi-auto 12-gauge shotgun with a collapsible buttstock and flashlight, a 6.5 Creedmoor custom rifle with a 6-24x50 Vortex scope, an AK-47 with iron sights, an H&K MP5 submachine gun, and a Desert Eagle with extended magazine. They were all strapped down so they wouldn’t move around but could be grabbed quickly. In the front passenger seat there was a sawed-off 10-gauge pump-action shotgun and a machete.
This would be an odd and expensive collection for the average Joe, but Emmett Wolfe was far from average. He had served in the Marines during his younger years. After the Corps, he went to work in private security, most recently for his father-in-law’s corporation, LifeWork. He had been the head of security at their main plant until quitting because of something he’d discovered. That was over a year ago, and since then he’d spent his time preparing for an event he hoped would never take place. Through all this, he’d never thought it was possible that it would actually happen.
He checked the back of the truck, making sure the topper was secure. Then he checked the bed, which contained mattresses, sleeping bags, a tent, two duffle bags with guns and ammo, fuel cans, totes of food, and a bolted-down toolbox cabinet. Everything was in order, so he headed back inside to do one last walkthrough. He grabbed a duffle bag of clothes from the closet and his Colt M4 carbine rifle with a red dot sight, suppressor, and flashlight from beside the front door. He then shut the door and screwed four boards over it. The rest of the house was barricaded in similar fashion. He didn’t plan on coming back here, but he was keeping it as an option.
The truck roared to life as he took off down the driveway, the afternoon sun high in the sky. When he arrived at the highway fifteen minutes later, he turned east towards his ex-wife’s house. He needed to get there fast. Jane lived just outside of Hill City and their daughter would be with her for summer break. Six hours later, he was approaching Hill City and had seen very little traffic for the last half hour. Is it that bad already? he thought.
Emmett turned onto his ex-wife’s road and pulled into her driveway, noticing a body lying on the ground. He grabbed his 10-gauge and machete from the seat next to him, slipping it into a sheath on his left hip. He chambered a round into the 10-gauge and walked up to the body, nudging it with the barrel of his shotgun, but nothing happened. He carefully flipped it over with his boot to get a look at the face. It was male, approximately thirty-years-old. This was not his ex-wife’s current husband, which meant they could still be alive, hopefully. Putting the shotgun to his shoulder, he walked towards the front door. When he arrived, he noticed it was cracked. He leaned against the wall, and taking his left hand off of the shotgun, he eased the door open.
There was a loud bang, and the door exploded in front of him. He quickly withdrew his hand and looked at the door, which now had a large hole in the center of it.
“Watch it, you moron! Do I look like one of them?” Emmett asked the unknown shooter.
“No… none of them could talk,” a man’s voice said from inside.
“Well, at least you’re not completely brainless. I’m coming in, George. Don’t shoot!”
He stepped from the wall and went through the front door. Inside was a hallway, and at the end of the hallway there was a makeshift barricade with a man standing behind it. George looked scared standing there with a shotgun at his shoulder. He had blood splattered on the front and sleeves of his jacket. Two bodies rested face-down on the floor in front of the barricade.
“Where’re Jane and Alexis?” Emmett asked.
“They’re behind me in the bathroom. Is that you Emmett? What’s going on? Why do you look like you’re ready for war?” George asked, lowering his shotgun.
“Yes, it’s me you twit, and that’s because I am ready for a war. I’ll explain everything once we get to the truck.”
He headed over to the barricade and vaulted over it, then opened the door on the left and Alexis, his twenty-year-old daughter, came running out.
“Dad!” she said, hugging him tightly. Behind her, Jane came out and stood next to George.
“Hey there, sweetie,” Emmett said, “I’ve missed you. Come on, we need to get to the truck before more of them show up.”
He’d started walking with his daughter toward the barricade when George groaned. Emmett spun around, looking more closely at one of the bloody spots on George’s arm.
In a fraction of a second he had his gun up. “You were bitten?”
George took a step back, eyes wide. “Yeah. Why does that matter? It’s just a bite.”
“It’s not just a bite,” he said, looking at Jane. “It’s how the infection spreads.”
“Infection? What are you talking about?” Jane said, moving to George’s side.
Emmett looked at his daughter and then looked back at George and Jane. He lowered his shotgun.
“The infection? It’s just the end of the world as we know it and the reason why people are coming back from the dead. But don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you—at least not yet. But if you start to change, I will end you. Now, let’s go.” He started down the hall again towards the truck.
George stood there, stunned, mouth agape.
“We can’t leave yet! I have to pack!” Jane said.
Emmett was about to snap back a response but bit his tongue when he looked at his daughter’s face.
“You have five minutes.”
Emmett went around the house, collecting a few grocery bags of food and raiding the medicine cabinet, then went out to the garage. Finally, after thirty minutes, George and the girls came out of the house, each carrying a suitcase. Emmett took the suitcases, throwing them into the bed of the truck.
“George, you’ll sit in the front with me. Jane and Alexis, you sit in the back. Let’s get moving,” he said as they got into the truck.
“Jeez, Dad, what’re all these guns for?” Alexis asked, grabbing the MP5.
“Insurance… You remember how to use ‘em?”
“Of course I do. You’ve had me shooting since I was twelve.”
She took a closer look at the MP5. She knew how to use a firearm but had never used anything like this befor
e. Her dad was very protective, and when she was old enough, he’d had her take self-defense classes and learn to shoot. At the time, she’d enjoyed it but didn’t realize how beneficial it had been until she was mugged. Well, the perp had tried to mug her with a knife, but you know what they say… Even now she carried her compacted S&W .38 revolver in her purse.
“Good, just making sure.” He smiled as he turned around and started the truck. “Buckle up.”
They left the driveway and hit the main road. Emmett was glad for all the time he’d put into training his daughter, but he never would have imagined her training would be used for this.
Alexis took a few minutes to examine the MP5, finding the safety, figuring out how to chamber a round, ejecting the magazine, and getting the general feel of the gun. Jane sat there, staring at her husband as George began to take heavier and heavier breaths.
“George honey, are you feeling alright?” Jane asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah,” he said coughing, “I feel fine. Just a little cough, must be getting a cold.”
“Are you sure? You don’t look too good,” Alexis added.
“Will you just leave me alone. I’m fine!” George snapped.
Jane looked like she wanted to say more but didn’t. She removed her hand from his shoulder and sat back looking worried, glancing between Emmett and her husband.
The sun began to set, casting long shadows on the road as George wheezed and coughed. It was getting worse by the second. Emmett pulled the truck off the road and jumped out. He walked around to the passenger side and jerked George out.
“Hey, what are you doing?” George asked in indignation.
He wheezed as he stood on shaky legs, a sheen of sweat coating his pale complexion.
The Brother's Creed (Book 1): Outbreak Page 2