Getting Out: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (The EMP Book 1)

by Ryan Westfield

  The hot, seared meat tasted wonderful. They ate with their hands, like savages, like cave men in distant times. This was what the world was going to turn into—the savage lands where people ate like animals, the lands that once were. These lands would become again something resembling their distant glory, and their distant savageness. The rule of might would again become the rule of the land. The weak would perish, and for some the coming night would be nothing but a nightmare until a swift and painful end. But for others, it would be filled with glory and adventure. Modern life had cut everything off from its citizens—life was dull and filled with drudgery. In the modern world, there was no danger, not even a spark of it. There was nothing in the modern world to excite a man, or a woman, nothing except constant and mindless entertainment.

  There was one thing that Georgia knew, and that was that she was going to be among the survivors. She and her children would survive. She wasn’t sure about Chad, who sat apart from them, muttering to himself and shivering constantly. But Max and Mandy—they were like Georgia. They were going to survive too.

  “Did you see that?” said Mandy.

  “What?”

  “There was something out there…”

  “Where?”

  “Out there… eyes… it looked like eyes in the night…” Mandy sounded scared. She seemed like a reasonable woman, but it was possible that she frightened easily. She didn’t seem like the type who’d spent much time in the woods before.

  “Probably just a raccoon or something,” said Max.

  “Do raccoon eyes… glow?” said Mandy.

  “I don’t know,” said Max. He looked at Georgia for an answer. She could barely see his face in the flickering light of the little camp stove flame.

  “I’ve never hunted raccoon,” said Georgia.

  “I think it was something else,” said Mandy. “I think it was another person.”

  “Out there, now?”

  26

  Jeremy

  Jeremy was hunched over on his couch. He was tired and cold. The storm was relentless, pounding his midsize respectable house. He’d thought that he’d heard a tree falling in the back yard, but he’d been too terrified to even go look out the window.

  Something was not right. Everything was very, very wrong.

  It had been a couple days since the power had gone out. Maybe a day and a half? Jeremy wasn’t sure. He didn’t have his computer or phone to look at to check, and his memory was tiring, just like his body.

  Jeremy had been on a good career path. He’d been proud of his career. He’d bought his first house just a year ago, the house he was now in. It wasn’t fancy, but it was a good investment. Jeremy was proud that he’d done the right thing: gotten a job after college, worked his way up, saved his money. He’d bought things with credit cards to improve his credit score. He had money in the bank. He hadn’t gone out to drink with his buddies to save money for his house. He hadn’t gone golfing much to save money.

  But despite his frugality, he’d made sure to spend money on the important things—expensive suits, for instance, so that he looked good when it became time for the promotions. He bought a good expensive mechanical watch, and then upgraded the band, because he’d read an article in a men’s magazine about how a watch was an important feature in making a good first impression in business.

  Jeremy thought back to the day at the office when the power had gone out. Looking back on it, Max had been right. His co-worker Max, who he’d been buddies with, wasn’t like Jeremy at all. Recently, he’d been slacking off at work, even though it was known that the boss was looking for a new guy to promote. Jeremy had tried to convince Max to make a good impression, small things, like telling Max to sit up straighter, to actually pretend like he was interested in his work.

  Jeremy had never been interested in his work, but that didn’t matter to him. He’d managed to display such a great enthusiasm for his work, that over the years, he actually convinced even himself that he really did like crunching numbers all day long on a spreadsheet.

  Max hadn’t been anything like that, and there had been some change in Max at some point. Max had spent his time reading some kind of strange internet forum, and whenever Jeremy tried to talk to him, Max had seemed distant and far away. Occasionally Max would say cryptic things like, “You know it’s all going to end, don’t you?”

  Jeremy would just laugh awkwardly, since he never knew how to handle things that were outside of his comfort zone.

  Jeremy remembered how Max had left the office, and the boss had sworn up and down that he was fired.

  It turned out that Max had been right. Things were changing, and not in a good way.

  Jeremy hadn’t gone back to work. There wasn’t any way to. All the roads were blocked by the police, who were working closely with some military people. Jeremy thought they must have been with the national guard, but they never identified themselves, so he had no way of knowing who they were. There weren’t markings on their trucks. Some of his neighbors had whispered that it was some kind of foreign invasion, but Jeremy didn’t think so. He’d spoken to them, and they were definitely American, if accents and mannerisms were any way to judge.

  Jeremy and his neighbors were stuck in their block, and food was already running low.

  Jeremy ate all of his meals out. His freezer had a single frozen burrito from a year ago. His fridge only had condiments, for the occasions when he ordered take out instead of eating out.

  He’d loved chain restaurants, and longed to go to his favorite now. There was literally nothing more in the world right now that he wanted more than a double dipped pile of deep fried cheese nachos. Well, that and for this whole mess to end right here and now.

  Jeremy was a mental wreck. He’d been up all night through the storm. It was a little past dawn. The storm was still raging, but a small amount of weak light had passed through the clouds and Jeremy’s house windows, allowing him to look around his living room at his possessions in pure terror.

  Nothing here was of any use. He didn’t own a single useful item. No firearms, no food, no survival gear whatsoever. His house was filled with business books that he never read, ones that he thought would make him look intelligent if he were to ever have the boss over for dinner. Of course that had never happened. And it would certainly never happen now.

  Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

  Military road blocks were not normal.

  All communication was gone. Jeremy had checked his phone all through the night, hoping against hope that it would somehow miraculously work again. Of course, it was as dead as it had been since that day in the office.

  Jeremy didn’t know what to do. He had a vague idea of walking somewhere, avoiding the roadblock by cutting through a neighbor’s lawn. Normally, he would never break the rules, but his stomach was rumbling. He wasn’t used to going without regular meals, and his blood sugar was tanking, making him even more anxious than he otherwise would have been.

  There was a loud noise that startled Jeremy out of his nightmarish daydream.

  At first, Jeremy tried to ignore it. That was the best course of action, after all. Maybe it was just a noise from the storm.

  But the sound continued, and gradually Jeremy grew aware of the fact that it must be a knock.

  Someone was knocking, loudly.

  Jeremy moved towards the door, walking as quietly as he could.

  Thunder crashed outside. Lightning lit up the sky in the distance. But it was just light that Jeremy saw when he peeked through the blinds. The viewing angle didn’t allow him to see who was at the door. Whoever it was was hidden behind one of the fancy posts that were only for decoration.

  Jeremy considered his options. Whoever was at the door might be dangerous.

  Jeremy considered going back to the kitchen for one of the expensive kitchen knives that he never used, but thought better of it. He couldn’t stomach the idea of stabbing someone, even if it was in his own defense.

 
He stood there, shaking, completely frozen with fear.

  “I know you’re in there,” came a loud, unfamiliar voice, shouting over the storm.

  Jeremy couldn’t take it anymore. If he didn’t open the door, someone might just break in, if that was what they wanted to do.

  But if it was a neighbor, then there was no harm in opening the door.

  Jeremy didn’t know his neighbors, though, since he’d intentionally avoided them for years. He didn’t like awkward conversations or small talk. For one thing, it wasn’t good to waste time on things that weren’t business related. And frankly, he didn’t see much point in making any kind of social effort when that effort wasn’t likely to propel him up the corporate ladder.

  The shadow of a man moved in front of the outside window. Jeremy didn’t see it until the lighting struck once more, illuminating the man from behind. He couldn’t make out his features, but he was wiry and tall. He wasn’t some hulking criminal who lifted weights. For some reason, Jeremy always imagined that criminals and people of bad intentions lifted weights and took steroids. He thought they were all huge, hulking beasts.

  Jeremy took a deep breath. He threw the deadbolt back and with shaking hands, opened the door. He figured that most thin people were trustworthy. But even as he thought this, he knew that it was foolish. But the man could easily just break the window… Jeremy didn’t want to have to deal with that.

  Anyway, he was probably just overreacting, right? So the power was out, and there was a military road block. But so what? There was no way that society could simply collapse, the way he feared it had. No, things were under control. They were always under control. Anyway, the military was there. The police were nearby. That would deter any crime that might happen. There was no way some criminal would be foolish enough to commit a crime under the nose of the ample police force so close by.

  “Hello?” said Jeremy, poking his head out as he opened the screen door.

  The tall thin man turned towards him, and now that he was close, Jeremy saw him clearly in the dim early morning light. The man grinned a wide grin at him.

  “Hi!” he said. “I don’t think we’ve met, but I live right next door… Mind if I come in?”

  “Uh,” said Jeremy.

  Jeremy wasn’t used to thinking on his feet. He had an uneasy feeling about the man and his strange grin. But he wasn’t good at saying “no.” In fact, almost all his business training told him that he should never decline an invitation, never say no to anything at all. All of his business books, if he’d ever read them, echoed the same thing.

  “Come on in,” said Jeremy uneasily. But he tried to feign a smile nevertheless.

  Lighting flashed behind the tall man as Jeremy led the way inside.

  “What can I do for you?” said Jeremy, sitting back down on his couch. He was tired and standing was hurting his feet right now.

  He gestured to an armchair cattycorner to the couch, but the tall man remained standing. He must have been at least six feet tall, maybe more. Jeremy studied his face as best he could while trying to meet the man in the eye. It was always good to look people in the eye. That was something Jeremy had drilled into his own head, and trained himself to do, despite how uncomfortable it made him feel. But it was a good business practice, and it had gotten him far at the office.

  “Well,” said the man. “We were running low on food over there, and I thought I’d come over to see if you had anything extra lying around…”

  The man said he was a neighbor, but the more Jeremy thought about it, the more he was sure he had never seen the man in his life.

  “Sorry,” said Jeremy. “But I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”

  “I work nights,” said the man. “Always at work, basically. If I’m not, I’m asleep. Tough life, but it is what it is.”

  Jeremy nodded.

  “Sorry,” he said. “But I literally don’t have a scrap of food in the house.”

  “Ah,” said the man. “We’re really hungry, though. Do you mind if I have a look? Maybe there’s something you missed.”

  “Uh,” said Jeremy. “I’m pretty sure there’s nothing. I would have eaten it myself.”

  “But just a look?” said the man.

  There was a strange look to his eyes. Either Jeremy was just noticing it, or the man’s expression was changing, revealing his true character.

  Jeremy was creeped out. He felt it in his stomach, a deep pit, a feeling of dread that simply wouldn’t go away.

  “I think I’m going to take a look anyway,” said the man.

  Jeremy didn’t know if he should stop him. It wasn’t like there was anything to find.

  But he needed to stand up for himself. He knew that clearly. If he let this guy walk all over him now, who knew what would come next.

  “I’m afraid I wouldn’t like that very much,” said Jeremy, trying to couch his denial of the request in the most polite language he knew how to use.

  The man started laughing. It was an eerie, horrible laugh.

  He lifted the large raincoat he was wearing to reveal a pistol strapped in a holster to his belt. He took the pistol out slowly and carefully and held it in his hand, fondling it. He didn’t point it at Jeremy, but the intention was clear.

  “How about I do it anyway?” said the man.

  “Uh,” said Jeremy, his voice and body shaking from fear. “Sure, go ahead… Look, I don’t want any problems. Take whatever you want.”

  The man disappeared into the kitchen, telling Jeremy to stay right where he was and not to move.

  Jeremy didn’t know what to do. Should he flee, run out the front door? But where to?

  If only his favorite chain restaurant was open. It had always been his safe haven, his point of retreat during the lunch hour of a tough day at the office, when nothing seemed to go his way.

  Jeremy had driven by there before the roadblock, and it was closed, without any lights on. There was no way it would be open now, even with the most dedicated employees imaginable. Without power, there wasn’t anything. Nothing to eat. Nowhere to go.

  Jeremy could hear the man rummaging around in his kitchen, knocking things over. He heard him tossing the pots and pans across the room, the ones that Jeremy had bought with his credit card but had never used.

  The man returned within a couple minutes.

  “No food,” he muttered, looking at Jeremy with hunger in his eyes.

  “I’m sure the power will come back on,” said Jeremy. “This is just a little hiccup, you know?”

  But he didn’t even convince himself.

  The man shook his head.

  “It’s over,” he said.

  The words echoed in Jeremy’s memory. He’d heard someone else say those words. Recently. Now he remembered. It was Max. Max had said something like that at work.

  Jeremy wondered what Max was doing now. Where had he rushed off to that day? How had he known that things would get so ugly so fast?

  The man pulled the gun again from his holster and this time he pointed it at Jeremy.

  “I know you’re hiding something… something good…”

  Jeremy raised his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender.

  “I know you don’t think I’m really your neighbor,” said the man, his gun hand shaking slightly. “But it’s true, and I’ve got a family to feed. They’re hungry, and it’s only going to get worse. It’s every man for himself from now on. I’ve worked double and even triple shifts for years. I’ve held down two jobs at once. But you… I’ve watched you come and go, even when you haven’t seen me. It’s when I’m lying awake in the day, when I can’t sleep because of the light coming in and I can’t even afford to buy black out curtains. It doesn’t happen often, because usually I’m dead tired and I fall asleep… But sometimes the light and the anxiety gets to me. And I peek through my blinds and I see you… I see you in your fancy new car…”

  Jeremy thought of his car. It wasn’t much good to him now, since the gas tank was empty.
Even if the road blockade wasn’t there, he wouldn’t get far if gas stations didn’t work. He’d stopped at one on the way home from work that day, and he’d found that there wasn’t anything he could do to activate the pump. No matter which credit card he’d tried, the power was out and there was nothing to do about it.

  “I see you in that car, your perfect house, while mine’s in shambles… I know you’ve got money. You must have food somewhere, or water. It’s just a little bit of hunger now, just a little nibble, but it’s going to grow. The hunger’s going to grow in the bellies of my children and there’s nothing that’s going to stop it… I don’t want to do this, but I’m prepared to kill you if it means giving food to my kids.”

  “Please,” said Jeremy. “There’s no need to kill me… I’ll give you whatever you want…”

  “Food,” said the man. “Water. Guns. Medical supplies.”

  Jeremy had none of these.

  He didn’t know what to say. If he said “no,” the man would think he was lying, and possibly shoot him in the arm or something to cause him enough pain to make him speak.

  “I don’t know what to say,” said Jeremy.

  “Do you have it or not?” said the man.

  “I don’t,” said Jeremy.

  The gun was pointed at him and he was experiencing the most anxiety and terror of his entire life. He’d never felt this bad, as if a hollow hole of dread was opening in his stomach, trying to swallow the rest of his body.

  “Shit,” said the man, putting the gun down on the coffee table. He put his head in his hands and started emitting strange sounds.

  Soon, Jeremy realized that the man was sobbing.

  That was a dramatic turn of events, thought Jeremy to himself.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” said the man. “I have to feed my kids. And everything’s just so screwed up. It’s all screwed. I don’t know what we’re going to do. I can’t let them starve.”