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

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Staying Alive: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (The EMP Book 2) Page 19

by Ryan Westfield


  Or so he would have thought.

  From off in the distance came the unmistakable sound of human voices.

  Human voices and human laughter, mixed together.

  John cut himself off midstream, in order to listen better. The sounds were faint, but they were definitely there.

  If he hadn’t known any better, he would have said it sounded like a party. A large one.

  He turned around and motioned for Cynthia to come over. But she didn’t see him gesturing.

  “Cynthia,” he hissed, trying to speak loudly and quietly at the same time.

  She looked up.

  “Come over!”

  She came over, and her ears must have been a little better than John’s, because she perked her ears when she was still about ten feet from John.

  “You hear that?” said John.

  She nodded. “Sounds like a party.”

  “Who would be throwing a party during a time like this?”

  John already knew the answer. People that they didn’t want to run into, that’s who.

  31

  Max

  The Ford Bronco had stopped a ways down the road. One of the men had gotten out of truck and was walking slowly towards Max. He was big and burly, with a thick frame and an equally thick neck. Max couldn’t yet make out his features without the binoculars, and he didn’t want to raise them, since it might be seen as some gesture of aggression or trickery. The other man stayed in the Bronco.

  This may have been Max’s worst idea yet. But he was going to go through with it. If he’d been by himself, he would have just fought them. Even if it had meant dying. But there were the others to think about, particularly James and Sadie. They were too young to die in a gunfight.

  That was all coming from Max’s brain. It was all reasoning.

  What was coming from his gut was something different. His gut was telling him that the men wanted something from them. They didn’t necessarily want to fight to get it, but of course a threat was definitely on the table. The threat of physical violence. But the men had passed by slowly in their car. They’d had the opportunity to attack them then. They’d had the opportunity to attack them for miles and miles. But instead they’d followed at a distance. If that wasn’t an indication that they wanted something, Max didn’t know what was.

  Max had gestured to them, waving his arms in the air in some kind of makeshift semaphore language. He hadn’t been sure he’d gotten the point across, but then the man had gotten down from the Bronco and started approaching. Maybe the whole meaning hadn’t gotten through, but some part of it had.

  The man walking towards him was getting closer. He held a shotgun, but he didn’t point it at Max. Instead, he held it casually, letting the muzzle point towards the ground.

  Max had his hand on his Glock, but it stayed in its holster.

  The man stopped when he was in shouting distance.

  Neither spoke for what felt like a long time.

  “What do you want?” shouted Max finally.

  No response. At least not yet.

  Max waited. He gripped his Glock tighter.

  “Food?” shouted Max. “Weapons? What do you want? I’m willing to negotiate.”

  The man started laughing. He must have to put extra force behind it, to make it heard from where Max was standing. It was like a combination between a shout and a laugh. Max hadn’t heard anything like it. Laughter projected like that was creepy. It sent a chill down Max’s spine.

  “We want one thing,” shouted the man.

  Max waited.

  The man was building the suspense on purpose, it seemed.

  A gust of wind blew through the trees, ruffling Max’s hair. Overhead, clouds moved across the sun, darkening the day.

  “We want the women,” shouted the man. “The two young ones.”

  He wanted the women? What the hell?

  Max felt disgusted. So society had collapsed and these men were looking to kidnap themselves wives or pleasure objects? What kind of sick men was he dealing with?

  Max didn’t answer. There simply wasn’t an answer for a demand like that.

  “Give us the two,” shouted the man. “And we’ll leave you all alone. Trust me, you don’t stand a chance against us. We’re going to get what we want, one way or another. Doesn’t matter to us.”

  “Over my dead body,” shouted Max.

  The man laughed again, that creepy extra-loud laugh. “With pleasure.”

  Max drew his Glock. But he was probably too far to get off a good shot. The man’s shotgun wasn’t going to be much good either. Likely, the men had other weapons in the truck. He held the shotgun with practiced casual ease, indicating that he was familiar with weapons.

  Max jumped back in the van, as best he could with his leg.

  “Go!” he shouted.

  Georgia, of course, already had the van in drive. A second later, they were off.

  Behind them, the man stood watching them, not making a move to get back into the Bronco quickly. The way he waited, unconcerned, was more concerning than his insane demand. It was as if he already knew he could get what he wanted.

  “Faster,” shouted Max.

  Georgia didn’t need to be told. The minivan was speeding down the rural road. The engine was whining, a high-pitched noise it hadn’t made before. They’d never pushed the minivan to its limits, not like this.

  Georgia was a good driver. She knew how to take the turns. She knew when she could push the minivan and when she couldn’t.

  “They’re going to take us?” said Sadie.

  “Sick freaks,” said Chad.

  “We’re not going to let anything happen to you,” said Georgia.

  “Don’t worry, Sadie. They’re just some sickos,” added Chad.

  Mandy didn’t say anything.

  Max had worked his way into the back. He had his binoculars to his eyes.

  “If there’s a turnoff, take it,” he shouted. He still hadn’t lowered his volume from when he’d been shouting at the man. His heart was racing and his skin felt ice cold. These guys had scared him. There was something… professional about them… and something cold, impossibly cold.

  There still wasn’t any sign of them.

  But Max knew they wouldn’t be far behind. They were simply letting Max and the others get a head start. Maybe it was fun to them. Maybe it was just a game.

  If they could just turn off somewhere, down some side road, maybe they had a chance of losing the men.

  But there was no road.

  It was just straight ahead, for as far as the eye could see.

  “There’s nowhere to turn,” shouted Georgia.

  Through his binoculars, Max saw the Ford Bronco appearing in the distance.

  It was coming for them.

  32

  John

  John couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  He and Cynthia had crawled on their bellies through the tall grasses of Valley Forge Park.

  In front of them, a few hundred yards away, a few small fires burned. They were dwindling now, nothing more than small echoes of what must have been huge bonfires.

  Around the fires, there were a few dozen people. Mostly in their twenties and early thirties, it seemed. Some wore normal clothes, and some were dressed in bright costumes. Some were completely nude, dancing energetically.

  Many were laughing, dancing wildly. Some were making out, couples lying deep in the tall grasses. Some were passed out, sleeping right out in the open. Some were staring at the rising sun, gazes fixed.

  “What the hell are they doing?” whispered John to Cynthia.

  “Partying.”

  “Partying? What?”

  “Looks like they’re having a big party.”

  “Don’t they know what’s happened?”

  John kept carefully studying the partiers. He was so used to death and violence now that the scene before him seemed completely inconceivable. He scanned the ground, looking for any sign of weapons, for a
ny sign of violence. But there wasn’t any.

  There were coolers here and there. A couple grills sat near the fires. They’d gone to the trouble of carting grills all the way out here?

  John’s mind simply couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing.

  “Hey!” shouted someone.

  Shit, they’d seen John or Cynthia.

  “Hey, look! Newcomers!”

  A woman in her twenties had stopped dancing. She was pointing and waving at John and Cynthia. There was a huge smile on her face.

  John didn’t know what to feel. He felt fear, and felt silly for feeling scared.

  The woman was wearing a bikini and nothing else. Her long blonde hair hung down around her chest. She was deeply tanned and all smiles. None of the other revelers seemed to pay attention to her.

  She jogged over to where John and Cynthia lay hidden, moving jauntily.

  “Hey!” she said, stopping in front of them, putting her hands on her hips. “What are you two doing down there?”

  “Uh,” said John.

  He’d been through so much. This seemed too strange. This young woman seemed like she was living in a different world entirely. She was acting like she was at a beach party, and that society had never collapsed.

  “Hiding,” said Cynthia.

  “Well come on, there’s no need to hide. Join the party!”

  John finally stood up. He was about a head taller than the young woman.

  “The party?” said John. “What party?” It was a dumb thing to say, but he was too flabbergasted to say anything else.

  “The party!” she said, bouncing up and down with excitement as she spoke. She gestured over to the dozens of others. “Right over there! It’s one of the best. You’ve got to come. We’re having so much fun.”

  John saw that the woman’s pupils were dilated. She was on something. Maybe ecstasy, judging by the way she was acting.

  “Don’t you realize what’s happened?” said John.

  “What do you mean?” She spoke with a high-pitched, innocent voice, full of wonder and enthusiasm. Not to mention complete denial about the world’s situation.

  “Everything’s… gone to shit,” said John. “Society’s collapsing…” He didn’t even know where to begin.

  “They killed my husband,” said Cynthia.

  “A rogue militia has overtaken the Main Line,” said John. “The city… it’s complete chaos…”

  “You’ve got to look on the positive side,” said the young woman. She wouldn’t stop bouncing.

  John’s jaw fell open. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. So she definitely knew what was happening, but was choosing to live in extreme denial.

  “We came out here to party when the power went out,” she said. “And we’re having the best time of our lives.”

  “Aren’t you worried?” said John.

  “Worried? What for?”

  “Do you have food?”

  “Food? We ran out of it a week ago or so. We’ve got plenty of molly, though.”

  John knew that molly was a term for high quality MDMA, or ecstasy. He’d taken some once, after a night of drinking, and he’d woken up the next day with the worst headache of his life, unable to read his financial spreadsheets at work, his mouth and throat parched beyond belief.

  The pills would keep them happy, maybe, but it wouldn’t feed them or keep them alive.

  “Come on,” said John, taking Cynthia’s arm. “We’ve got to go.”

  “You’re leaving? You’re not going to party with us? We’ve got plenty of molly for everyone.”

  John knew there was nothing he could say that could convince the young woman or her friends of anything. They’d chosen to tackle the collapse of modern civilization with pure hedonism and nothing more.

  John led Cynthia away from the party, back to their packs in the woods. The young woman called out to them the whole way, urging them to come back to party.

  “They’re not going to last long,” said Cynthia, taking a long drink of water and opening an energy bar.

  “No,” said John, shaking his head. “No, they’re not. I’m surprised nothing’s happened to them yet.”

  “I guess they have nothing the militia would want to steal.”

  “Maybe,” said John, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m dead tired, and I bet you are too. Let’s get some rest.”

  “I’ll take the first watch,” said Cynthia. “I’ll wake you up in the afternoon. We’ll leave after dark, right?”

  “Right,” said John. “Thanks.”

  Cynthia sat cross-legged, eating her energy bar. There were tears in her eyes as she looked towards the distance where the partiers were.

  John lay down in his clothes, using one of Cynthia’s blankets as a make-shift pillow. He was so tired he’d be asleep in seconds. As he closed his eyes, he wondered if it was really wise to put his trust and life in the hands of a woman he’d just met. He doubted she’d betray him, but what if she decided to leave him sleeping there, completely unprotected? John didn’t wonder long. He was asleep within moments, too exhausted to worry any longer.

  33

  Max

  Max’s heart was pounding in his chest.

  There was no turnoff ahead. There was no chance to lose them.

  Max knew there was only one thing to do. And that was fight.

  His mind was fixed. He was determined. He only saw one way out. And he wouldn’t change his mind, no matter what. Even if it meant sacrificing himself.

  He didn’t know why he’d decided on what he had. He didn’t know why he was so dedicated to saving these people that he hadn’t even known a couple weeks ago. Maybe it was because he hadn’t had a purpose in his pre-EMP life. He’d just been an office drone, longing for a purpose, longing for some way to give his life meaning.

  Now he had a purpose. Now his life could have meaning.

  But it might mean losing his life in the process.

  Max was OK with that.

  He felt alive, like he never had before. Intense energy filled him, drowning out the pain.

  “All right,” said Max, speaking loudly, his voice sounding commanding as it boomed through the minivan interior. “Here’s what we’re going to do. And it’s not up for discussion. Georgia, you’re going to slow down and I’ll drive. I’ll drop you all off, and then I’ll lead them down the road, away from you. You’re going to take with you what you can and run into the woods. Don’t turn back.”

  “You can’t do this, Max,” said Mandy.

  “I’m doing it,” said Max. “No arguing.”

  “You don’t stand a chance against them alone, Max,” said Georgia. “I’m going with you.”

  Max considered it.

  Georgia had every reason to stay with him. She knew, as well as he did, that Sadie and Mandy had a better chance of avoiding capture if the men in the Bronco died. If Max went alone, and died without killing them, they’d still be on the hunt. They’d be more energized than before, more willing to do whatever it took to get what they’d wanted all along. Sure, it would give Sadie and Mandy a head start, but how far could they really get on foot?

  The best case scenario would be if Max could stay behind to fight, letting them continue on in the van. But there wasn’t a situation where that would be possible.

  “OK,” said Max. “Georgia and I will go in the van. Everyone else, we’re going to drop you off, and you’re going to run.”

  “This is crazy,” said Mandy.

  “It’s the only way,” said Max.

  “I’m staying too,” said James.

  “You’re going to stay with your sister, James,” said Georgia. There was finality in her tone. James knew enough not to argue. “She’s going to need someone to protect her.”

  “I’ll stay then,” said Chad.

  “It’s better if you go, Chad,” said Max. “You can protect them. James and Sadie are just kids. Sorry, James.”

  “I’m not letting you two stay to die,”
said Mandy.

  “Who said anything about dying?” said Max. But he knew in his heart that the chances of him and Georgia surviving this were slim. But at least with the two of them, they’d most likely be able to kill the Bronco men too. They’d go down fighting.

  “What goes for Chad goes for you too, Mandy,” said Max.

  “Where should I pull over, Max?” said Georgia.

  “Next curve,” said Max.

  The atmosphere in the minivan was frantic.

  “Mom, you can’t do this,” Sadie said.

  “Take good care of her, James,” said Georgia. It sounded like she was trying to keep her voice steady, trying to keep herself from crying.

  “Take food and guns with you,” said Max. “And water. Nothing else.”

  They weren’t moving to get ready. They were stunned from Max’s plan.

  “Come on!” shouted Max. “Get a move on it! When we pull over, you’re getting out. You’re only going to have thirty seconds to clear the van and get into the woods to cover. If they see you, the plan is over.”

  That got them moving, scrambling around.

  Max’s tactic was to shock them into movement, to get them to do something that they didn’t want to do, but something that would save their lives.

  “Everyone ready?” said Max.

  James knew the deal. He had sprung into action, and was moving around the van, distributing things.

  “We’re close to the Ohio border,” said Max. “There’s a little town on the other side of 90, in Pennsylvania, called Albion. Head there. If we make it, we’ll meet you there, at the old granary outside on the edge of town.”

  Albion was the only place Max could think of. He’d been there once, long ago, as a kid on a trip with his parents and his brother. He remembered that old granary for some reason.

  Albion was as good of a place as any to meet. It was close to the big interstate, which would be easier to find than any other landmark. If they all lived, they could continue on over the border to Ohio.

  “If you make it?” said Sadie. She was crying.

  “Come on, Sadie,” said James. “We’ve got to get ready.”

 

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