Getting Home_A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller

by Ryan Westfield

Sadie didn’t answer. She just kept walking. She picked up her pace, and the next time she turned her head, she could no longer see the camp, the ditches, her brother, or John and Cynthia.

  She needed to be alone.

  17

  Georgia

  Minutes had passed.

  The dead man was right next to her. So was the dead deer. Blood stained the ground.

  Georgia felt cold. The day might have been warm, but her body felt cold. Cold from hunger, cold from fear.

  She thought of her children, of Sadie and James, back at camp.

  She lay on her stomach. She’d crawled behind a tree. Only a part of her was exposed. Only her hands and head were a possible target.

  She didn’t dare get entirely behind the tree because it would give whoever was out there an opportunity to make a move without her knowing it.

  It was a long-range standoff. The enemy was unknown, as was the outcome.

  Her heart rate hadn’t gone down. Her fingers felt freezing. Her feet did, too. It was the adrenaline. But she’d gone past the timeframe when it had pumped her up, readied her for action.

  Now she just felt its negative effects. She felt the cold and the fear. She felt the worry, the anxiety rushing through her like a tidal wave.

  How could she possibly get out of this alive?

  She needed to talk herself through it.

  She could outshoot many. She had experience. She knew what she was doing. Whoever was out there had already taken some shots at her. And they’d missed.

  She couldn’t count on them missing again.

  But she did know that she wouldn’t miss.

  Her rifle was ready.

  Her eye was pressed to the scope. She was ready. As ready as she’d ever be.

  There was movement off in the distance, near a cluster of trees.

  Nothing but a flash of something. Clothing, or a sneaker maybe. Something reflective. Maybe camping gear.

  Georgia moved her eye away from the scope to check her surroundings. But just for a moment.

  Then she was back at it. She hadn’t moved her gun. She was honed in on the place where she’d glimpsed the movement.

  Now there was someone there, practically right in the crosshairs.

  It was a man, short and plump. He held a rifle.

  Georgia didn’t bother studying him. She didn’t bother taking a second look. She’d already recognized that he wasn’t one of her own. She’d already recognized that he was the one who’d been firing at her.

  She took aim.

  She pulled the trigger.

  The gun kicked.

  It was a clean shot.

  Right in the heart.

  The man fell to the ground.

  Georgia waited, the gunshot ringing in her ears.

  She stayed there, pressed to the ground, for a full ten minutes before moving. She used the scope to check on the dead man, to scout the area, and she also made sure to check her surroundings.

  There wasn’t any movement. There wasn’t anything out there.

  Or if there was someone out there, they were staying still. Very still.

  She couldn’t stay there forever. Most likely, that had been it. Just two men. Nothing more.

  Georgia stood up slowly. Her body felt weak.

  She’d have liked to check the dead man. His gun would be useful, as well as his ammunition and anything else he had on him. She’d have liked to check Baxter as well, the other dead man.

  She’d also have liked to try to find their camp, to see if they were the ones who’d stolen the food.

  She would have really liked to start processing the deer, bringing some of the meat back to camp.

  But her legs were wobbly. Her injury was hurting her. Her vision was going blurry with fatigue. She wondered if she could make it back to camp at all in her state.

  It was hard for her to admit that she couldn’t accomplish something. Especially something physical.

  But she wasn’t going to let that kill her off. She couldn’t exhaust herself and succumb to some bad fate out here. Not when her kids needed her.

  So she started off, ignoring everything that needed to be done. Her focus became simply getting back to camp.

  She walked slowly but at a steady pace. She didn’t want to exhaust herself anymore.

  It’d take a couple hours to get back at the rate she was going. She stopped only once, to make herself a makeshift staff from a piece of wood. It made the going a little easier, and she found herself leaning on it more and more the farther along she went.

  She took a more direct route back towards the camp than she had when she’d been heading out. On the way out, she’d been hoping to catch a deer somewhere along the way. Now, she just wanted to get back.

  When she was about a half hour away from the camp, she saw something that made her pause.

  It was an empty plastic bottle. It looked like a milk jug. A gallon. Crumpled and lying on the ground.

  She stood there, perfectly still, staring at it.

  What was it doing out here? She knew it hadn’t come from her camp.

  A noise in the distance sent her heart thumping again in her chest. It was the sound of a human voice.

  Many human voices.

  They were shouting. Some were laughing. But it wasn’t real laughter. It was crazed, high-pitched laughter that sent a chill through her exhausted body.

  There was no question in Georgia’s mind about what it was.

  It was the mob.

  Or another one.

  But they were all the same.

  They acted the same way. They “thought” the same way, if you could even call it that.

  She’d thought they were done with the roving groups of desperate people. They’d defeated them last time, hanging on to their lives and their camp, but just barely.

  Now another mob was back. And close to their camp.

  Georgia didn’t even blink. She just continued, picking up her pace, ignoring her protesting body.

  She needed to get back as soon as possible. She needed to warn the others.

  They needed to prepare.

  18

  Dan

  The three of them waited in silence as the sounds continued.

  “It sounds like wood breaking,” whispered Olivia finally.

  Rob nodded. “Someone’s breaking into a house.”

  Dan felt his breathing go a little easier, a little more relaxed. They weren’t in the clear, but at least it wasn’t their house that was being broken into.

  They were safe. At least for the moment.

  Suddenly, Rob broke from his frozen pose and became a flurry of quick movement. He was rushing around the room, grabbing his pack, checking his gun.

  “Come on,” he said. “Now’s our chance.”

  “What are you talking about?” said Dan.

  “We’ve got to go.”

  “Go? Now? We know someone’s out there.”

  “Exactly,” said Rob. “And there’s a chance that they came here in a vehicle. Now’s our chance to take it.”

  “That’s really risky,” said Dan.

  “Yeah, it’s risky. But so is having to walk north to your friend’s camp.”

  Dan didn’t know what to do. The thought of heading outside into certain danger sent chills down his spine.

  But he saw Rob looking pointedly at Olivia, and Dan understood the message. There was no way Olivia was going to make it on foot up north. It was a vehicle or nothing. And they couldn’t leave her behind.

  “But we don’t even know they have a car or anything,” said Dan. “How likely do you think it is?”

  Rob shrugged. “It’s worth a chance.” He said it casually, as if he were discussing the weather.

  “Don’t you think we could start out walking and pick up a vehicle somewhere else?”

  Rob shook his head. “They’re getting rarer. The ones that work, at least. Trust me, I’ve been all over this area. You don’t come across working vehicles that of
ten now. If they’re working, they’re in hiding. Those who have them understand how valuable they are.”

  “Fine,” muttered Dan. “It’s worth a look, I guess.”

  “Good choice, kid,” said Rob, handing Dan a loaded gun.

  “Don’t go out there,” said Olivia, looking up at both of them from the couch. “Don’t go out on account of me. You’ve already done so much for me.”

  “I guess we haven’t really been introduced,” said Rob, cracking a smile and holding out a hand for her to shake.

  She looked up at it, confused, before shaking it gently.

  “It’s not really up to you to decide,” said Rob.

  “Yeah,” said Olivia. “But Dan’s just a kid. He can’t keep risking his life for me.”

  “You saved my life,” said Dan.

  “And he’s not a kid any longer,” said Rob. “That’s the new world we’re living in. There’s no sheltering anyone these days. Come on, kid.”

  Rob led the way, out of the room and towards the hallway.

  “Dan,” said Olivia, before Dan was all the way out of the room. “You don’t have to do this.”

  Dan said nothing because he didn’t know what to say.

  He clutched the handgun tightly. The safety was off. His finger was on the trigger.

  Rob had his hand on the handle of the front door.

  “We’re going out the front door?” whispered Dan, surprised.

  “What better way than to gain the element of surprise?” said Rob, a half-smile forming on his lips.

  Rob opened the door in one swift motion. The dim afternoon light flooded inside.

  Dan looked up at Rob, who stood there, big and tall. His shoulders were wide and he held his gun in both hands. He looked impossibly tough, the last sort of person you’d want to mess with. Dan was glad he was on his side.

  Rob stepped outside, brushing the screen door away like a gnat.

  Dan followed. He squinted against the light.

  They both looked around. There was nothing in sight. Nothing but houses close together and the narrow street.

  “You hear an engine anywhere?”

  Dan shook his head.

  “They’ve probably got it turned off. We’ve got to find the source of the sound.”

  The cracking sound came to them again. Louder this time, now that they were outdoors.

  Dan cocked his head. “Sounds like it’s over that way,” he said, pointing in front of them, up the street. It was probably north, but he wasn’t sure.

  “Let’s go. Stay a couple steps behind me, to my right. I need to know where you are.”

  Dan nodded, and they set off, walking through the small yards of the houses, staying as far away from the road as possible. There wasn’t really any way to camouflage themselves, to remain hidden while moving, but at least they weren’t right in the middle of the road.

  Still, they were targets.

  The sounds continued. Dan could hear the tone of it more clearly now. It might have been wood breaking, or it might have been something else. What the hell were they doing? Breaking a house down piece by piece? Stealing the siding off of it?

  It didn’t make sense, but Dan guessed that it didn’t have to. All they needed was a vehicle.

  But it seemed like a long shot. Why did Rob think they’d have one? It was nothing more than a guess.

  And a risky guess at that.

  They walked down to the next intersection, took a right, continued for a little ways, and then took a left.

  The sound was getting louder.

  “Sounds like they’re doing home renovations,” joked Rob.

  Dan was too nervous to laugh. It didn’t seem like the time for jokes to him. His heart was beating fast and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He was clutching the gun so tightly that his knuckles were turning white and his fingers hurt.

  “You know how to use that thing, right, kid?” said Rob, glancing back at Dan and his gun.

  “Uh, for the most part,” said Dan.

  “You’ve got the safety off. That’s a good start. Just point and shoot. Not much to it.”

  Dan knew there was a lot more to it than that, and the knowledge didn’t make him feel any more confident.

  The street they were on ended only a few houses down. There wasn’t a cul-de-sac. It wasn’t that type of neighborhood. The street simply dumped out into a tiny lot filled with refuse, discard and rusted shopping carts. Plastic bags lay here and there, some of them blowing in the wind.

  There was a car parked in front of a small blue house. It was the only one on the street, and it was parked in the middle of the road.

  It was one of those boxy Chevrolets from the early 1980s. The paint was dinged up and there were dents all over the roof.

  The sounds were louder.

  “Sounds like they’re coming from around back,” said Rob. “That must be the car. Come on.”

  Dan’s heart was beating faster than ever.

  Rob broke into a jog, and Dan picked up his own pace. They were only two houses away from the car now. They were closing the distance. Still no sign of whoever was making those sounds.

  “Get in,” said Rob, when they reached the car. He threw open the driver’s side door and threw himself into the seat.

  The passenger side door was locked.

  Rob reached over and unlocked it from the inside. Dan opened it. The hinges were rusty and it swung unevenly, but Dan got the heavy door opened, got himself inside, and tried to close it quietly.

  But despite his efforts, the door slammed closed. It was just too heavy.

  Shit. Would they hear it?

  There was a pause in the snapping sounds coming from behind the house.

  Rob was frantically searching the interior for the keys. “They’ve got to be here somewhere,” he said. “Help me look.”

  Dan opened the glove box, which was half-broken, and everything immediately fell out onto the floor at his feet. There were old food wrappers that smelled, insurance paperwork, and a huge cluster of keys on a big ring, like the type a janitor would carry on the job.

  “Pass me those,” said Rob.

  Another snapping sound. Loud. So they hadn’t heard the door slamming.

  “Don’t you think they’d have taken the keys with them?” said Dan.

  Rob had the big key ring in his hands, and was flipping through the keys rapidly, one by one. Some of them were huge, and obviously didn’t go to a car. Some looked like house keys. Some were rusted. Some were filthy.

  Rob tried the most promising ones one by one.

  “They probably did,” said Rob. “But maybe there’s a spare here.”

  “Maybe they kept one under the car,” said Dan. “You know, one of those little magnetic compartments?”

  “Good call,” said Rob. “Get out and look for it.”

  Dan opened the car door again, wishing he’d thought of it earlier. He had to push with all his weight to get the door opened enough to squeeze out.

  Dan ran his hand underneath the filthy car, searching with his hand. He was down on his hands and knees when he heard a gunshot.

  The shot rang out.

  The passenger window above Dan’s head shattered. The bullet had struck it, pierced it, and left a small hole surrounded by a spider-web of hairline fractures.

  “Rob!”

  Had he been hit?

  The old car suddenly roared to a start.

  “In the car!” shouted Rob.

  If Rob had been hit, he was still alive enough to turn on the car.

  Dan turned his head to see two figures coming down the driveway. One held a handgun. The other swung a baseball bat at his side.

  They were closing the distance fast.

  As Dan rose to get into the car, he pointed his handgun and squeezed the trigger three times in quick succession. The gun kicked more than he’d been expecting. He didn’t hit them. His aim was way off, but it made them take cover.

  The two men threw themselves
to the ground just as Dan threw himself onto the passenger’s seat.

  Rob already had the car in reverse. He hit the gas the second Dan was in the car.

  The engine roared. The tires squealed.

  The car jerked back a foot then suddenly stopped.

  Rubber was burning. The strong stench of it billowed into the air along with smoke.

  Dan’s head whiplashed into the seat’s padded headrest.

  The emergency brake was on. Rob found the release with his left hand and undid it.

  The car rocketed backwards, roaring backwards down the street, leaving a cloud of rubber smoke behind it.

  The two men were in the middle of the street, sprinting towards the car.

  When they reached the cross street, Rob swung the wheel hard. The car spun around sharply.

  The back bumper slammed into a streetlight, making a horrendous crunching sound.

  Dan was thrown back once again.

  Rob jerked the shifter into drive, and they were off again.

  The tires spun and squealed, and they were speeding down the streets they’d just walked down.

  “They still coming for us?” shouted Rob over the roar of the engine.

  Dan checked the back window.

  “Yeah,” he yelled.

  “We’re going to have to be quick about this. We’ve got to get Olivia and all the gear. We’re not going to have much of a head start on them. They’ll be coming for us.”

  “What about the food?”

  “I packed most of it away. Now Olivia can’t walk. I’m going to have to go get her.”

  “I can…”

  “You can’t carry her quickly enough. You’re going to have to stay outside and fend them off if they get close.”

  Dan gulped down the fear he felt creeping up from his chest into his throat.

  They were barreling down the street towards the house where Olivia rested in the living room.

  “Which one is it?”

  “Right there!”

  Rob slammed on the brakes. The car rocked to a violent stop.

  Rob had the door opened before Dan could say anything. He was already dashing across the lawn towards the front door.

  Dan glanced nervously back through the windshield.

  There wasn’t anyone there. The road was empty. But they’d be coming. He just hoped that Rob would be back out of the house with Olivia before they got there.