by Hunt, Jack
“Just continue your rounds and report back on those additional fires.”
“Sergeant, my guys are tired and we are down to only two right now. The rest have gone home. They’re concerned about finding food, and water, and they’re not alone.”
“Alright, just do what you can,” Gary replied. He released the button on his radio and walked over to where Elliot and Damon were waiting. In the first twenty-four hours after emerging from the bunker Gary and Elliot had gone around to the homes of officers, volunteers, and including the mayor, and set about visiting the grocery stores and pharmacies to see if there was anything left to salvage.
Fortunately, most of the nonperishable food had already been taken and stored inside the Olympic Center which was being used as a shelter and guarded by two armed officers who opted to sleep there. Unfortunately, when they emerged from the bunker the found the desperate had broken off the locks, lifted shutters and broken windows to steal the rest. With no power, there were no alarms and with almost everyone inside their homes it wasn’t a surprise to find most of the food gone from the grocery stores.
The next order of business was to protect what they had by setting up roadblocks to the north, south, east and west. So far, there didn’t appear to be many folks town-hopping but Elliot knew eventually that it would happen as supplies dwindled in surrounding towns. Hell, they’d even thought about taking a trip into Keene or Saranac Lake and seeing what the situation was like there.
The barricades would be manned by volunteers to prevent outsiders from entering and to ensure the protection of the town as there was no telling who was starting these fires or who had raided the grocery stores and two pharmacies. It was an overwhelming task due to a lack of manpower and not everyone wanted to help. And the situation would only get worse as people began to gossip among themselves about what was being done. Once they realized they were shit out of luck, people would take matters into their own hands.
“You want to head over to see Foster?” Elliot asked.
“No, I need to go speak with Ted. Find out how he wants to handle things.”
Elliot rested a hand against the doorframe. “You know you don’t need his permission, Gary.”
“Until we see a complete breakdown of order in this town, we will continue to operate and abide by the laws that governed us before the EMP.”
Elliot chuckled. “Listen to yourself. You’ve really bought into this shit, haven’t you? Did Hammond say that? Look around you, Gary. You know as well as I do that we are beyond the point of maintaining order. It’s every man for himself now,” he said hopping into the 1970s green Jeep. It roared to life and Gary rode shotgun while Damon got in the back.
“Just drop me off at the department. Others might have quit but I’m not. Not yet.”
Elliot held his tongue. Gary was a true patriot, the kind of man that would have gone down with a sinking ship rather than abandon it. He admired that but at the same time he thought it was naïve. Clearly in the past few days, certain residents, thugs or gangs had made it painfully obvious that they no longer would abide by the rules. And anyway, who was going to enforce them? There was already a lack of manpower and some of the people who had originally helped before, were now gone. They’d abandoned the town, probably wised up to the fact that if they stayed they would have felt under obligation to help.
For some the challenges facing the town were too great to handle. The only reason Elliot had agreed to go along with him that morning was because he was hoping to sway Gary’s mindset and get him on board with ideas he had about their own survival; some of which would involve stepping over the line between that which was right and wrong.
After dropping Gary off, Elliot headed back up Mirror Lake Drive to check in with Rayna. Before that he planned to stop by the home of Michael and Stephanie.
Once Gary was gone Damon climbed from the back to the front.
“You know your buddy’s a real dick.”
“And you’re not?” Elliot asked.
“What?”
“If I have to answer that, there’s no point in talking.”
Damon nodded. “Alright. I get it. I was a little insensitive back there, but he’s living in a fantasy if he thinks that this town or country is going to bounce back from this. And yet he’s rallying up the troops as though this is nothing more than a downed line. It’s bullshit.”
Elliot glanced at several neighbors and made a passing gesture to them.
“He’ll come around.”
“You sure about that?” Damon replied.
Elliot shook his head and veered into the driveway that led up to the smoldering mess. To his surprise, Foster Goodman was still outside along with two guys from the fire department. One guy was leaning up against a vehicle, smoking a cigarette, and the other was sitting on the back drinking a beer.
“See, I told you,” Damon said, pointing out the obvious. Elliot swerved in and killed the engine. He hopped out and went over to Foster.
“You want to show me the bodies.”
He looked Elliot up and down and then nodded before tossing him a mask for the fumes. On the way in, Foster told him to mind his step. “Been a while since I’ve seen you in town. Where were you?”
Elliot ignored him as he guided him through the charred remains. The fire was still going in some areas while the rest smoldered away. As they made their way to the back of the house, he caught sight of the young couple. They were gripping each other tight and their bodies were burned beyond comprehension.
Foster lifted his mask for a second and spat a thick wad of phlegm nearby. “Poor bastards. Terrible way to go.”
Elliot closed his eyes and had a flashback of his friend inside the armored personnel carrier. The flames flickering, his skin melting, the screams and the final moments of his life.
“Elliot. Elliot!” Foster shook him by the arm and he snapped out of it. “You okay?”
He nodded and turned, making his way back to the Jeep. He tossed the mask back to Foster and hopped inside without saying another word. But that didn’t stop Damon from opening his trap.
“You guys should get back to work, my taxes aren’t paying you to sit around. Don’t you have fires to put out?” He smirked and one of the guys flipped him the bird.
Before Elliot could pull away, Foster ambled over to them. He spat another wad of phlegm and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
“Oh, I forgot to tell Gary. We spoke with some of your neighbors across the way that were out that night doing rounds,” he said. “Seems they saw two men running through the woods not long after the flames appeared. One of the guys took off after them but couldn’t catch a license plate. So it’s hard to know if it was locals but he saw them drive off in what he believes was a sky blue 1979 Scout with a white stripe down the side.” He tossed up a hand. “Maybe that will help.”
Elliot gave a nod. “I’ll be sure to pass that along.”
Chapter 2
Jesse looked over the shopping list Elliot had given him before leaving. Had he remained in New York he wouldn’t have thought about taking any precautionary measures. That morning he and Maggie had been out gathering what they could from local hardware stores. Jesse had no idea what the town looked like before they crawled into the shelter but after driving up Saranac Avenue heading for Aubuchon Hardware they could tell that the world they’d left behind had changed drastically and not for the better. He’d borrowed a 1983 Ford Bronco from Mr. Thompson. Apparently he hadn’t taken it out of his garage in over a year. The thing was his pride and joy and he was a little apprehensive about letting them use it but Rayna had sweet-talked him into it because the goods they were bringing back were going to benefit him as well. It would require a few trips back and forth so they needed the space.
“Alright, shout it out,” Maggie said shuffling down an aisle with a shopping cart. Someone had already been inside the store to gather a few items, but it wasn’t in as bad a state as the grocery store they’d passed on
the way up. Now that place was a wreck. Shelves had been cleared out, windows were smashed and someone had set the back half of the store on fire.
“Poly sandbags, barbed wire, black plastic bags, driveway spikes…”
“Whoa, slow down,” she said, pushing the cart then hopping on the back and coasting down the aisle toward him. “How about your give me half of that sheet and you get the rest?”
He shrugged. “Suits me fine.”
Jesse tore the paper in half and set off to find another cart. He continued talking. “You know why he wants all this stuff?”
“To fortify the property.”
“Why? If people want in they’re getting in.”
“Yeah but you don’t want to make it easy for them.”
Jesse eyed the shelf and grabbed up six rolls of barbed wire and threw them in the cart, then scooted over to the other side and grabbed up some plastic bags.
“You think he’s a little paranoid?”
“You heard what Rayna said about those two men. I think he just wants to look out for them.”
“That’s what worries me,” Jesse replied. “Makes me think his hospitality will soon run out.”
He continued on down to another aisle collecting what was on the list and talking to her as they went. She was three aisles over. Occasionally they would spot each other through the shelves. Leaving New York hadn’t been easy and some might have said that he was crazy to have left with strangers but in the short time he’d got to know them they felt more like family than anything else. The problem wasn’t that he didn’t know them; instead it was the fact that society created an environment that kept everyone at arm’s length. Some days in New York he could have gone a whole day without talking to someone, or even making eye contact.
“Oh this is perfect,” Jesse said stepping back from thin wooden boards that were going to be used as warning signs throughout the neighborhood. Elliot wanted to erect signs that said: NOTHING INSIDE IS WORTH DYING FOR. “Maggie, tell me something. You believe in fate?”
“Like events unfolding that are beyond our control?” she hollered back.
“Yeah. This whole event has got me thinking. I mean, what are the chances that we would meet each other? I mean, all four of us.” He was mostly referring to her but he wasn’t planning on saying it out aloud. It hadn’t taken long, two weeks to be exact, to be drawn to her. And if he was honest she been part of the reason why he left New York. Of course he wasn’t going to tell her that, not yet. Not while tensions were riding high and everyone’s minds were occupied with survival.
She never responded and so he continued loading up his cart with one item after the other: stainless steel bird spikes, safety window film, dummy dome cameras, door security guards, striker plates, door jammers, nails and… He stopped the cart realizing he hadn’t heard her move in several minutes.
“Maggie!”
There was no response. He reached for a hammer off the shelf and shoved it into his waistband and covered it with his top. He then swung around the Winchester lever rifle and made his way around the corner. Jesse stopped every couple of feet to listen for footsteps but he couldn’t hear anything. No talking. No movement. He wanted to call out to her but that would have given away his location and right now that was all he had going for him. His eyes darted around walls looking for the dome mirrors that security and staff used to keep an eye on customers as they browsed products. His heart started beating faster as he came around the next aisle, to find it empty barring her cart. “Maggie!” He couldn’t take it anymore. He yelled out her name moving fast down the aisles. Just as he was getting closer to the last two aisles he spotted movement in the mirrored dome. Jesse ducked. There were two men, and one of them had a hold of her. He could just make him out, a grizzled-looking guy, mid-forties, wearing a thick winter jacket and gloves. He had a hand over Maggie’s mouth while the other guy was making his way down the aisle heading in his direction. He exhaled trying to stay calm. He knew what he had to do. Elliot had already gone over it with them while they were in the shelter. His mind flashed back to his frequent talks about being ready to kill if it came down to it. I don’t care how good you think your aim is. Don’t get cocky. No headshots. Aim for the chest or stomach. It’s the largest area of the body and chances are you are going to hit that before you nail a headshot.
It wasn’t like this kill would be his first. He thought for a second or two about the man he’d killed on the way into Essex County. That night had changed everything for him. He’d stepped over the line and there was no coming back from that. His eyes flitted to the mirror as he darted out and skirted around into aisle three. If he killed the one, but didn’t manage to get the other, there was a good chance Maggie would die. He moved quickly from one end of the aisle down to the other preparing for the man to swing around the end into his field of vision. There was a fifty-fifty chance of being killed. He knew that, and that was why he took a small can of paint off the shelf and rolled it across the ground into another aisle, then waited for the man to turn. One second, that was all he needed, just a momentary distraction.
Jesse focused on the dome mirror, pressing his back into the shelf. As the tin can hit the shelving unit, it clattered. The man twisted around, and Jesse swung the rifle out and squeezed off a round.
The echo was deafening. The round struck him in the gut sending him down. Jesse hurried forward and finished him off with another to the heart before ducking back into the aisle. He heard a voice call out.
“Doug!”
He knew he had seconds.
Jesse hurried down the aisle staying low until he could see the lower half of the man’s body. He rested the rifle on the shelf and was in the process of placing his finger on the trigger when the guy moved. No!
He shifted position and tried to spot him but he was out of sight.
A round went off and he thought the guy had shot Maggie but when he glanced at the mirror, he realized what he’d done. He’d shattered the mirror so Jesse couldn’t see him.
“Boy! If you want to walk out of this store alive you will listen to me very carefully. Put the rifle down, and the keys to the truck and walk away.”
“Let her go,” Jesse yelled back. “And you can have whatever you want.”
“No, she’s staying right here.”
“C’mon man, you don’t need to do this,” Jesse replied.
“You’re not listening, are you? Now put the gun and keys down and walk out.”
“Look, if it’s supplies you want. You can take ours. But let her go.”
He heard him snort. “Doug! Doug, you there?”
The man wasn’t going to get any response from his friend. He was bleeding out three aisles down. What he thought was a gun in his hand had actually been a machete. Jesse figured they wanted their rifles. Guns and ammo were now the new currency. Forget trading. It all came down to what they were slinging. Trading had no place when a person was looking down the barrel of a gun.
* * *
Maggie didn’t stand a chance. Moments earlier she’d walked right into him when she came around the end of the aisle. Before she could pull the rifle off her back the brawny guy had clamped his hand over her mouth and yanked her head back causing agony in her throat.
It happened so fast.
Now she stood close to him with a blade pressed against her jugular, and a hand gripping her hair. She’d reeled through some of the basic self-defense moves Rayna had taught her but in that moment she couldn’t think clear enough to remember. However, she knew that if she didn’t do something fast there was a chance both of them would die.
“Doug!”
She swallowed hard feeling the steely blade press hard into her larynx.
Her mind went back to what Rayna had said as she stood behind Maggie with a blade to her throat and showing her how to get out from it.
If someone holds a knife to your throat from behind, you don’t have many options. The biggest mistake people make is to try and pull the
knife away but that can actually help your attacker. If opportunity is there, you want to bring up your arms slowly, then latch on to that knife hand, pull it down from your body and duck your left shoulder and draw yourself out. But remember, if you don’t do it right, you will die.
Rayna had made it sound so easy and back when she was showing her it was. They’d practiced several times a day because there was very little to do in the shelter except read, play board games and listen to the radio. Perhaps that’s why she’d started to bond with Jesse. She got a sense that he liked her by the way she’d catch him looking at her from time to time. While relationships weren’t her strong point, knowing when a guy was interested was.
“I’m going to count to ten, if you don’t put your rifle down and come around now, your girlfriend will taste blood,” her attacker said.
Jesse was trying to reason with him, give him any other option but this guy wasn’t listening. He knew what he wanted and he wasn’t ready to walk away until he got it. In her head Maggie started counting along with the man. When he reached five she would attempt to do what Rayna had taught her. There was no other choice.
“2… 3… 4…”
She was about to react when the crack of a gun went off near her ear. It sounded so loud she didn’t even register the man dropping to the ground. One second he was holding her tight, the next he slumped to the floor with blood seeping out of his skull. There was ringing in her ears. She stumbled forward, then reached for the gun immediately just in case he wasn’t dead. Maggie backed up and looked at the blood forming a puddle around his head. Right then Jesse came around the corner, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and hurrying toward her. He gripped her with both hands.
“You okay?”
It took her a few seconds to respond because the noise had rattled her.
He shook her. “Maggie.”
“Besides the ringing in my ears? I think so.” She crouched down and took a moment to gather her thoughts. “How did you know where he was?”