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Staying Alive: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (The EMP Book 2)

Page 5

by Ryan Westfield

“I just want to help you,” said the man. “I’m Lawrence J. Hekels. I was a social worker, a therapist, before this all started… all this chaos… I figure I’m still alive for a reason. And that reason is that I might just be able to help someone… What are you doing out walking around?”

  “Got to get out,” muttered John.

  Lawrence Hekels walked alongside John.

  The countless dead bodies had numbed John intensely. Maybe it was just too horrible for his brain to really comprehend. So it had started to shut down. But here was another human, alive. He was named Lawrence and he was speaking to John. This seemed to start waking John up a little.

  John picked up his pace, walking faster, and Lawrence increased his own to keep up with him.

  “I see you’ve got a knife there, but trust me, that’s not going to be enough. We’ve got to get inside before the sun goes down.”

  “Why?” said John. “I’m getting out of the city. I don’t want to starve to death.”

  “Trust me,” said Lawrence. “I should be dead. I’ve spent too much time out on these streets. I’ve seen stuff you wouldn’t imagine. Or maybe you can. I don’t know what you’ve been through. The military has fallen. The police have fallen. It’s just vicious gangs now. Really more of just a huge mob. And they mostly come out at night…”

  John shrugged. “I don’t really care,” he said. “If I can get out first before I die… then that’s fine with me…”

  Lawrence spoke like a trained therapist. He spoke in easy-to-understand phrases. He kept his tone calm and level despite the situation.

  “You say you don’t want to starve,” he said. “But trust me when I tell you it could be worse… Much worse…”

  “What is this?” said John. “You’re like an out-of-work therapist now or something? How are you going to help people at all with just mere words? I don’t need words. I need weapons, or food, or water. Hell, I shouldn’t even be talking to you. I should have just stabbed you when you came up to me. Now you don’t seem like much of a threat. I can’t believe you’ve lasted this long.”

  “I can’t either,” said Lawrence. “The truth is, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I’m going to die soon anyway. I figured… Well, I might as well do as much good as I can now. And I don’t have anything to offer except my words and advice. My whole life, I’ve tried to help people. I’ve taken the worst jobs in the worst areas… I’ve… Wait, did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” said John, stopping in his tracks. Despite what he said, he’d heard it too.

  It was a deep rumbling off in the distance. It sounded like chanting, deep and ritualistic and terrifying.

  “They’re coming,” said Lawrence. “Come on, we’ve got to get inside.”

  “What?” said John. “They don’t go inside or something?”

  “Oh,” said Lawrence. “Of course they do, but if we’re inside, at least we’ve got a chance of surviving. I’ve been lucky so far.”

  It was remarkable that Lawrence somehow spoke in his calm, professional tone, despite the situation.

  John didn’t know why, but something had changed within him. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he knew that he wanted to survive. He knew that it was an impossible goal.

  But maybe it’d be better to at least try for it…

  He’d already decided to leave his apartment. He’d known that it’d be better to die trying to get out of the city, than waiting to starve to death.

  But now he really wanted to try.

  Despite his intense hunger, despite his thirst, despite his weakness, he was going to do everything he could.

  “Come on,” he said, jumping into action. He grabbed Lawrence’s hand. “I know a place we can go.”

  “We’ve got to get into a building,” said Lawrence.

  “I know of one,” said John. “Come with me.”

  The chanting was louder now. It sounded like a hundred voices mixed together. It almost didn’t sound human. But as John was learning, humans could be more animalistic and intensely cruel than he’d ever imagined. Especially when driven to extreme ends, in extreme circumstances.

  9

  Max

  “Why don’t we just shoot out the tires?” said James. “Or just one. That way, they wouldn’t be able to use the van.”

  “You can drive on a flat tire,” said Max. “Plus, I don’t want to damage the van in any way. If what I think is happening is happening, we might need that van. And we might need to travel long distances in it.”

  “What do you think is happening?”

  “I think my fears were right,” said Max. “We made it out before most. Now the rest are following. More and more are going to be reaching this area. People are going to want to head in this direction, thinking they’re escaping the worst of the worst in the cities and suburbs. They’re bound to stumble on the farmhouse.”

  “So you think we’re going to have to leave?” said James. “Where would we go?”

  “No idea,” said Max. “Let’s focus on the plan right now.”

  “You think Chad is going to be OK up there?” said James. “What if they shoot up through the roof?”

  “I hope they don’t,” said Max. “I don’t know what we can do about it, though.”

  Max and James settled into silently watching the house. Max imagined that James was worried about his mother and his sister, but he didn’t have any words of comfort for the kid. After all, the whole world was dangerous now, and it wasn’t going to get any better.

  “Hey,” said James suddenly. “Look, it’s Mandy.”

  Max turned his head.

  Sure enough, it was Mandy, walking towards the house. She seemed to be walking strangely. In her right hand, she held a knife.

  “Shit,” muttered Max. “What the hell is she doing?”

  “She doesn’t know…” said James, apparently starting to state the obvious, and then realizing the futility of it.

  “We’ve got to stop her,” said Max.

  Max was wondering if he should risk firing a shot in the air. But he didn’t want the guys in the house to know that they were still out here.

  “I’m going to go get her,” said Max.

  “No,” said James. “I’ll go.”

  “You’re just a kid,” said Max. “And you’re likely to get killed.”

  “You’ll never make it with that leg,” said James.

  Before Max could stop him, James was gone, leaving his rifle behind for Max.

  Max took the rifle, putting his Glock back in its holster.

  “Shit,” muttered Max.

  He didn’t want to call out to James. That would give away their presence and position. Plus, he knew it wouldn’t change James’s mind.

  James had impressed Max on more than a few occasions since moving into the farmhouse. He was growing up fast, maybe faster than he should have. But he was quickly becoming not only a man of his word, but a man who wanted to do the right thing, even when it was difficult.

  But that didn’t mean Max wanted James to risk his life right now.

  Max watched as James moved swiftly, crouching low to the ground. He was headed right towards Mandy, who didn’t seem to see him.

  As Mandy got closer, Max realized she was in some kind of daze. Something had happened to her, and he felt a pang of regret in his stomach. He didn’t know exactly where the regret was coming from, and he decided not to think about it, pushing it out of his mind.

  Max couldn’t keep watching, knowing that he had to keep his attention focused on the front door of the farmhouse. He wondered how Georgia and Sadie were doing, and he wondered about Chad, stuck up on that roof.

  There was still no sign of movement inside the house.

  The night was coming swiftly now, and Max wondered if this plan was really the best one, and whether it actually made any sense at all. It was hard to think clearly with the pain in his leg. And it was hard to think while so hungry. He just hoped they were doing the right thing.


  Maybe it’d be better simply to get into the van and go, avoiding any possibility of armed conflict with the unknown men. Of course, they’d probably get shot in the process of trying to get into the van.

  And of course it meant leaving Chad stranded on the roof. There didn’t seem to be any way to rescue him.

  Max simply couldn’t leave Chad.

  Maybe it was a weakness. Maybe it was a character flaw.

  His companions might have said it was Max’s greatest strength, the way he was always trying to look out for everyone. But right now, Max wasn’t so sure. He feared the time when he’d allow his loyalty to his companions to seriously cloud his judgment in a dangerous way.

  While keeping one eye on the house, Max occasionally checked on Mandy and James.

  James appeared to be leading her to an area underneath a large tree, a hundred meters behind where Max lay on the ground.

  The only thing Max could do was wait. He hoped Mandy was fine, and was worried about might have happened to her. Despite the non-starter status of their “relationship,” and the mild bitterness between them, Max knew that he cared about her.

  “Hey,” whispered James, approaching Max from behind. “She’s OK, but shaken up. And she needs medical attention. She’s got a bad cut. She wouldn’t tell me what happened, but I think she might have been attacked. Maybe you can get her to talk.”

  Attacked? Max wondered if there were already more people out there.

  Max’s mind was moving a mile a minute.

  If there were more dangerous strangers around the farmhouse, then Max, Mandy, James, Sadie, and Georgia were all in grave danger. They had all their attention focused on the farmhouse, but now they might have to watch their backs as well.

  Maybe a temporary retreat would be the safest thing. But that meant leaving Chad on the roof. Not to mention the gear that would keep them alive. They were already hungry.

  “I’ll go,” said Max. “You stay here.”

  He handed the rifle back to James, who got into position on the ground.

  Pain flared through his leg. Max moved slowly towards Mandy. He made sure to keep low to the ground.

  “Mandy,” he whispered, as he approached her. He didn’t want to startle her.

  Mandy sat cross-legged.

  Blood was flowing freely from her hand. She still clutched a knife, a knife that Max recognized. It was one of his own, a Swedish carbon steel utility knife that had been in his Jeep forever, floating around the glovebox. He’d been glad that he’d remembered to take it after the accident with Georgia’s SUV. Now it looked as if it had accomplished a purpose that it was never designed for.

  Max wasn’t sure, but he had a feeling that Mandy had killed someone.

  Of course, Mandy would never kill unless she absolutely needed to. Unless there was no other option.

  “Mandy,” said Max, sitting down next to her. He winced in pain as he did.

  Mandy didn’t seem to notice his presence. She stared straight ahead.

  It wasn’t until Max put his arm around Mandy that she seemed to notice him.

  “Mandy,” said Max. “I need to know what happened. Can you hear me?”

  Mandy nodded.

  Max breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t permanently shell shocked.

  “What happened? Did someone attack you?”

  “There was a woman…” said Mandy. “She looked… wild… like she’d gone wild… She came at me… I couldn’t… I’m sorry… I had to…”

  Max knew it was hard for Mandy. But he needed to know the whole story. He needed to know if the woman was still a threat.

  “Is she dead?” said Max.

  Mandy nodded.

  “You did what you had to do, Mandy,” said Max. “Now let’s have a look at that hand of yours.”

  Max took Mandy’s bloodied hand in his own. Slowly, Mandy released her grip on the knife. Max took it delicately from her hand. He wiped it off on the cuff of his pant leg, and put it back into its plastic sheath on Mandy’s belt.

  “You’re bleeding pretty bad,” said Max. “This knife doesn’t have a finger guard. I bet you let your finger slip forward and didn’t even notice.”

  Max dug into his pocket for his own knife, a Spyderco Delica, full flat grind, and flicked it open. It had come with a pocket clip, but Max had removed it, knowing that people at his office would have disapproved of him carrying a knife. Without the pocket clip, it just floated awkwardly in the bottom of his pocket, usually lying horizontally. He wished he had that clip now.

  Max cut a piece of his shirt off and tied it around Mandy’s finger tightly.

  “Hold the arm above your head for a while,” said Max. “The bleeding should stop soon. You’re going to be OK.”

  The two were silent for a moment.

  Time was moving faster than Max had expected. The sun had set, and the world was now lit by the moon. It was a cloudless night, and the moon shone brightly.

  “What’s going on?” said Mandy. She seemed more alert now. “Why did James come and guide me away from the house?”

  Max explained the whole situation to Mandy, as quickly as he could.

  “So we’re screwed,” said Mandy. “All our provisions are in there. What are we going to do? We can’t survive without that house, or our stuff.”

  “Not to mention Chad is still stuck on that roof,” said Max. He told her how Georgia and Sadie were on the other side, with guns trained on the door.

  “What if they leave through a window?” said Mandy.

  “Shit,” muttered Max. “I didn’t think of that… Funny how your mind gets cloudy in these situations… I’ve got to remember that… I can’t keep counting on the fact that I’m going to think clearly, no matter what.”

  “I doubt they’ll go through a window,” said Mandy.

  “Hopefully not,” said Max. “Anyway, maybe it’ll work. After all, the idea is that they don’t know we’re here. They’ll think we’ve simply abandoned the property.”

  “You were lucky not to get shot,” said Mandy.

  “Tell me about it,” said Max. “Seems like I’ve been too lucky. Hopefully that doesn’t mean my luck is about to change. What I’m worried about are the others… There are going to be more people coming. Like that woman you ran into. I don’t know who she was. Maybe she was with the guy in the minivan, connected to him in some strange way. Or maybe she was a victim of these guys who are in our house. Who knows…”

  “So what do we do now?” said Mandy.

  “We wait,” said Max. “We’re just going to have to wait…”

  “You think we can outlast the guys in the house?”

  “Well, I hope so. If not, we’ll have to come up with another plan.”

  “Hey, what’s James doing? I thought he was supposed to have his gun on the door?”

  Max suddenly saw it. James had his rifle clutched in just one hand at his side. He was crouched low to the ground, moving swiftly towards the minivan.

  That impulsive kid was going to ruin everything. And he was likely to get himself killed in the process, all while thinking he was doing the heroic thing.

  10

  Georgia

  “How long do you think this is going to take?” said Sadie.

  Georgia and Sadie were lying on their stomachs in some tall grass. Georgia had a straight shot to the front door. As well as some windows. She just hoped they weren’t going to exit through the windows that she couldn’t see.

  “Could be a long time, Sadie,” said Georgia, in a low voice. “Remember to speak quietly.”

  “I hope James and Max are OK.”

  Georgia didn’t say anything. She was hoping the same thing. She didn’t like having her kids separated from her, not in a situation like this. But she was going to have to get used to it.

  “Can you see Chad?” said Georgia after a long pause, not taking her eye off the scope.

  “Yeah,” said Sadie. “He’s still up there. He’s not moving very muc
h. Probably trying to stay quiet.”

  “I’m glad he had enough sense to kick the ladder down,” said Georgia. “You know, if it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

  “He’s nice, Mom,” said Sadie. “He’s trying his best.”

  “Sometimes that isn’t good enough,” said Georgia. “Things are different now, Sadie. You’ve got to take this all seriously.”

  “I am,” said Sadie. “I do my chores like everyone else. I keep a good watch. I’m getting better with a gun.”

  Georgia didn’t say anything. She didn’t know how she could instill in Sadie the attitude that she needed to have.

  Georgia’s thoughts turned towards the man that she had shot. It had left a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach, one that she couldn’t get rid of, no matter how much she told herself it was necessary.

  But if given the chance, Georgia would do it again in a heartbeat. She was ready to shoot to kill. She wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger when the time came. Not for those men. She’d heard them talk. She may not have known their names, but she knew what kind of people they were.

  “Do you hear that?” said Sadie.

  Georgia heard it. She didn’t answer. She was too busy listening.

  It was the sound of a car engine turning on. Georgia knew it must be the van. She hadn’t heard any gunshots, so there couldn’t have been a gunfight. It must have been Max or James moving the van out of the reach of the guys in the house.

  “What’s going on?” said Sadie.

  “Shh,” whispered Georgia.

  Georgia was worried that the moving van might attract the attention of the men inside the house.

  And she was right.

  A moment later, she saw the door open.

  Georgia had her eye glued to the scope.

  A leg came out the door.

  Georgia squeezed the trigger. She felt the kickback from the rifle, and her ears rang.

  She’d fired too soon. She cursed herself. She’d literally jumped the gun. It was all the suspense of waiting, building up. But that shouldn’t have affected her. She was used to hunting. But she still wasn’t used to hunting people.

 

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