The EMP Grid Down Trilogy (Book 2): For Honor

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The EMP Grid Down Trilogy (Book 2): For Honor Page 9

by Randall, Nick


  Josie snapped her head to one side, and she immediately saw what she had feared: her left arm was handcuffed to the bed. The pain had been caused from the cuff digging into her skin when she tried to move around. When she looked the other way, she could see the same was true with her other hand and wrist.

  I’m a prisoner, she thought. But I’m alive.

  Her theory before had been proven right, at least for now: the militia members they had been battling the last couple of days hadn’t been trying to kill them. They had wanted her and her family alive.

  Her family?! Where were they?! Alex had gotten away with Jon, or at least they had taken off for the woods, but had they gotten away? Roy had been badly wounded in his leg, bleeding profusely through his pants and down to his foot. Was he still alive? Was he being cared for? And what about Ben?

  Josie took a few deep breaths to regain her sense of composure. Becoming a prisoner and not knowing what had happened to anyone else in your survival group would be enough to throw anyone into a state of understandable panic, but Josie knew that panic was the last thing she should be doing.

  She had never taken meditation that seriously before. Roy would meditate for a few times a week to regain control of his mind. She thought it was silly, simply sitting upright with your hands on your knees, eyes closed, and while slowly breathing in and out. Roy had claimed that it kept your heart rate down and kept you in control of your mind and your body. He learned the techniques from a few of his buddies in the military when he was in Iraq and Afghanistan, and had been practicing them ever since.

  But now, Josie was beginning to realize the good that meditating or breathing slowly could do for you. The more she breathed, the deeper and slower she inhaled and exhaled, the more relaxation over swept her body and her pounding heart rate began to slow down to a more controllable pace.

  She kept her focus on each individual breath, and as she did so, she sniffed the air. Wherever she was, it smelled very rustic, like she was in an old cabin somewhere out in the middle of the woods. Maybe that’s where she actually was.

  She tilted her head up and around as best she could to view her environment. Sure enough, the room she was in certainly looked like it was in a rustic cabin. In addition to her bed, she could see a mirror on the opposite side of the wall, an empty desk, and a bookshelf with a variety of old, vintage books lining it up. The hard covers were mostly red, blue, and green, Josie noted.

  “Welcome.”

  Josie heard a man’s voice in the same room as her and she suddenly realized that she hadn’t been alone the whole time. She quickly tried turning her head to catch a glimpse of whoever was talking, only to find nobody.

  “I’m behind you,” the man’s voice spoke again, and it was only now that Josie took in how calming and relaxing it was.

  “I can’t see you,” Josie replied.

  “That’s the idea,” the man’s calming voice said. “I’m at the window behind you.”

  By the sound of his voice, Josie guessed that the man talking was either in his 30s or 40s. He didn’t sound intimidating at all, but rather relaxed and at ease with himself. Back in the day before the EMP had struck, he could have been the voice featured on most radio and TV commercials.

  “Where am I?” Josie asked, not letting the special quality of this man’s voice distract her from the perilous situation she was in.

  She was a prisoner and she needed questions answered so she wouldn’t be so blind as to where she was or what was happening to her and her family.

  “Somewhere safe,” the man replied, calmly again. “Unlike where you were before. I assure you, you are very safe.”

  Josie found herself becoming entranced by the man’s voice as if she were being caught up in a magical spell. Now it wasn’t as if he was the voice featured on a commercial at all, but rather like a personal therapist or librarian, someone who was always so at peace with the world and their life.

  She snapped herself out of it by swinging her head from side to side against the pillow.

  “How can I be safe?” she asked. “Nowhere is safe in the world we live in now, no matter how safe you think you are.”

  The voice chuckled.

  “How logical of you,” the man remarked. “Perhaps you’ll turn out equally as intelligent as you are a fighter.”

  “Is that why you kept me alive?” Josie asked.

  The man chucked again.

  “Indeed, you are intelligent,” he said. “You figure things out quickly. I like that. I admit, I was initially worried that I would be disappointed in you. But I already see that that’s not the case.”

  “Where’s my family?” Josie asked next.

  “Do you really believe that you’re in the proper position at this moment in time to be asking questions?” the invisible man asked.

  “I want to know about my family.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “So tell me.”

  “Why? I don’t have to if I don’t want to.”

  He was playing games with her, Josie knew. She also knew that the more desperate she sounded in her voice, and she definitely sounded desperate now, the weaker she would be. As much as she was begging to know where her family was,

  “You spared our lives.”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I ask why?”

  “Because I have strong reason to suspect that you’ll serve me quite well.”

  “Serve you?”

  “You heard that right. Well, you at least. Your husband, I’m not so sure.”

  Josie’s eyes went wide.

  “So Roy is alive.”

  “Yes, of course he is. So is the kid too. Ben I think his name is?”

  “Where are they?”

  “Oh, they’re in their own little rooms just like yours. Ben is one tough bastard. Three bullet wounds and a beaten face? We would have just as easily let him go and fed his body to the coyotes if it weren’t for the incredible spirit that he’s been showing. Once he makes a full recovery he’ll make me a good soldier. But your husband, Roy, on the other hand? He’s a tough bastard too but there are other circumstances concerning him. So I’m still not too sure if we’ll be keeping him around much longer…”

  “No, no, please!” Josie cried. “He served in the military! Multiple tours in Iraq and Afghanistan!”

  “Relax,” the voice of the unseen man instructed. “Control your breathing.”

  Ironically enough Josie had just been thinking about breathing control before.

  “Please, just don’t kill Roy. He can make you a good soldier too if that’s what you’re going to need to keep him alive.”

  “Oh, I have no doubts concerning that. He would undoubtedly be a powerful asset to my little army, and that’s why I literally have no reason to kill him, so you can be rest assured in knowing that.”

  “Thank you, thank you…”

  “So do you understand now why I’ve kept you alive? Why I told my men to take you alive instead of killing you?”

  “Because you need us,” Josie replied. “You want us to serve you the same way those men we’ve encountered served you. Because you’re the one that they call Nero, aren’t you?

  “You sure are one smart lady,” the voice of the unseen man chuckled. “And yes, they do call me Nero. Though not by my choice necessarily. Just a nickname I was given and it sort of stuck…oh well. You understand how that is. People start calling you something and it just never goes away. Now Josie, I need you to listen very closely to what I am about to tell you. Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” Josie replied.

  “Very well,” Nero began. “I’m sure that you are very confused about things right now, so I would like to clear things up for you as best I can so you’ll realize where you now stand. You, Roy, and the rest of your band have cost me a number of my men, more than I admittedly could afford to lose. I believe it was you and Ben coming up to Carleton from the Army base, yes? And Roy and your daughter, whatever her name is, had a run in wit
h three of my men as well. Needless to say, I was a little pissed when I heard about those men I had lost, but still, I couldn’t help but admire the fact that they had been so easily taken out. Clearly, you were all quite skilled. And that’s why I instructed my forces to bring you to me, alive and preferably unharmed, because of the immense value that you would be able to offer me by serving in my militia. So now you have a choice: you can either willingly do as I wish and serve me, or otherwise, you will have proven that you are of no use to me and that going out of my way to find you was nothing more than a massive waste of my precious resources.”

  Josie heard footsteps approaching. She tilted her head, and Nero came into her view. To her surprise, he was just the opposite of the kind of man she thought he would be. He was young looking, perhaps only in his early to mid thirties, with thick dark hair that was streaked with grey. His face was cleanly shaven, and both of his eyes bright blue.

  He also held a key in his hands, which he inserted into the lock in the handcuff.

  “And that, Josie,” Nero said. “Is where you now stand.”

  With that, Nero unlocked the handcuff and it sprang free from Josie’s wrist. He repeated the process with the other handcuff as well. Just like that, Josie was now free. She flexed her fingers.

  “You may stand up now,” Nero said. “There’s something you need to see. Over here, at the window.”

  Josie rose from the bed and Nero led her over to the window.

  “Here, you’ll see my little community,” Nero said.

  The window revealed an abandoned ghost town, comprised of old warehouses, rustic cabins like the one they were now in, and even sold old restaurants and shopping marts. This old and previously abandoned town was now populated not only with militia men like Josie and her family had encountered before but also of older men, women, and children. Nero was completely accurate when he referred to it as a community.

  Then Josie’s eyes then opened wide in horror. She covered her mouth with her hand.

  On the main street right before her, Roy was on his knees with both hands tied behind his back. His head was facing the muddy ground, and he was surrounded by armed militia men.

  Standing over Roy was Ojo, a machete in his hands, holding the sharpened blade directly over the back of Roy’s neck. One swing downward, and it would spell death for Roy.

  “You said you wouldn’t kill him!” Josie swung around and threw a fist at Nero’s face, but he caught it in the palm of his hand in mid-air.

  “I said I don’t have to,” Nero replied. “But I will if you make me. Because now the choice is yours: do you pledge your family’s allegiance to my community and also pledge to serve as my soldiers, or do you not?”

  TO BE CONCLUDED IN BOOK III: “For Peace”

 

 

 


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