RESIST AND EVADE: A Post Apocalyptic EMP Thriller (The Blue Lives Apocalypse Series Book 2)

by Lee West

  RESIST AND EVADE

  Book Two in the Blue Lives Apocalypse Series

  A novel by Lee West

  Copyright Information

  Copyright 2017 by Lee West. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author, except where permitted by law, or in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, contact:

  leewestbooks@gmail.com

  Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  About the Author

  Dedication

  To the brave men and women in blue—who proudly serve our communities.

  And to my family, for their never-ending love and support.

  Prologue

  Officer Price walked toward the communications “shed,” trying to shake the sleep from his foggy head. When the police force left the Evansville PD headquarters, the chief had insisted that they disassemble most of the communications system so they could reassemble it when they relocated to the new HQ. The chief hoped it would give them a link to the outside world, in addition to providing a way to communicate with any mobile patrols they started sending on reconnaissance missions into the surrounding communities.

  Upon arriving at the new HQ, Price didn’t think it possible to get the communications rig up and running. The place was a summer camp for rich kids, not exactly an ideal replacement for the Evansville Police Department’s headquarters. Fortunately, they had arrived during the camp’s weekly turnover. The place was half empty, except for the kids who stayed all summer and the camp counselors. They had no idea anything had happened outside the camp until the police showed up and started moving in.

  Initially, the counselors were skeptical of the chief’s explanation—until the parents started to arrive. Wave after wave of them, mostly on foot, showed up every day to claim their kids. It became so common that the kids waited around to see who would be claimed next in a joyful, tearful reunion. Although they tried not to show it, the few kids whose parents had not yet arrived appeared more and more tense as the days continued, and it became clear that nobody would likely arrive to meet them. Many of the remaining kids lived a full day’s drive or long plane ride from the camp. They’d more or less given up hope after a week passed with no word from their parents.

  Much to Price’s surprise, they were able to reassemble the communications system at the camp. They used a generator and typically ran the system late at night, during the agreed upon communication period. Tonight was no different for Price. He would make a pot of strong coffee and try not to feel like an eavesdropper as he listened to Marta and Doris chat. The two women appeared to have become good friends. Although their conversations were quick, he could tell they both cherished the time spent together. Not hard to imagine given the solitude of their circumstances. Their talks reminded him of his mother and aunt sitting around the kitchen table, chatting the night away over a bottle of merlot.

  Settled in the shed, he brewed his coffee and turned on the radio. None of the Evansville PD’s radio monitors ever let either Doris or Marta know that they listened to the conversations. For security purposes, the chief thought, for now it would be better if few knew they had a functional radio. Night after night, one of the officers waited for the two women to chat. Night after night, it was the same sort of conversation—snippets about their lives and their hopes for the future. The officers could clearly hear Doris’s side of the conversation, since she was closer, but Marta’s voice was often obscured by static. The distance between Marta’s radio and the HQ’s receiver proved to be too great for reliable, clear transmissions.

  Leaning back in his chair, Officer Price sipped his coffee and tuned the system. Sharp crackles punctuated the quiet night, indicating that someone was talking. Price adjusted the system a little more, trying to clear the static. Marta’s voice broke through the white noise.

  “Hello? Doris, come in!” screamed Marta.

  Hearing the panic in Marta’s voice, Price leaned in, listening intently.

  “Doris! Come in, PLEASE!”

  A short pause ensued before a different voice crackled.

  “Marta, it’s Doris. Are you okay? Over.”

  Static and high-pitched “squawks” were the only reply. Price again tried to adjust the radio, but his efforts seemed to make the white noise grow louder. Shit! If he didn’t get this right in the next few seconds, he could possibly lose them entirely. Furiously manipulating the controls, Doris’s voice became clear again.

  “Holy—uh, I mean copy that. How long do I have? It’s after midnight. I can’t leave in the pitch dark. What should I do?”

  How long until what? Static answered his question.

  “Okay. I can do that. I think I know where to go,” said Doris. “I’ll leave a little before first light.”

  Price quickly put together what had just occurred. The New Order must have discovered the location of Doris’s house, which had served as the second safe house on the trail used by the police to flee Porter for the safety of the HQ. The New Order, as they now called themselves, consisted of a gang of escaped prisoners from the local PrisCorp prison facility, who hunted down and viciously killed all law enforcement personnel. They needed to help
Doris, fast. If the New Order found her, she would be killed for her role in assisting the cops.

  Crap!

  Price quickly stood up, knocking over his chair with a loud bang. With his flashlight in hand, he ran through the dark forest to the chief’s cabin. Knocking rapidly on the cabin door, Price yelled in a shaky voice for the chief.

  “Chief, it’s Price. You need to wake up. We have a situation.”

  The chief’s strong, tall body filled the doorframe. He rubbed his eyes and yawned with an exaggerated sigh. “Slow down and tell me what happened.”

  “I was monitoring radio chatter and think I just heard Marta telling Doris to flee her home. From what I could tell, Doris is leaving at first light. I have no idea where she intends to go or what she will leave behind for the New Order men to discover. She sounded terrified. Doris may or may not know the location of Scott Marsh’s house, the third safe house.”

  “Alright. Nice work. Wake up the others. We need to assemble an assault team immediately. We don’t have a minute to spare.”

  Price ran to the center of the camp, where the dinner bell hung from the eve of the large wraparound farmer’s porch. The camp must have used the bell to signify the beginning or the end of activities. When the police first moved to the camp, they designated the bell as their low-tech emergency communications system. Instead of a group text to the entire force, they would now ring the bell to warn of an attack.

  With a shaky hand, Price pulled the bell’s cord over and over again, the bell’s urgent metal clang echoing through the sleeping camp.

  Chapter One

  Doris walked swiftly and deliberately through the forest. It had been a long time since she’d hiked on a rough trail. Finding her footing in the predawn hours’ darkness proved to be a greater challenge than she expected. She began to wonder if leaving a little later might have been a better idea, since she really did not seem to be making much headway.

  Marta’s grave warning that the New Order had discovered her house terrified Doris. Up until that transmission, Doris believed what others told her about the situation in the world, but never truly thought she would be affected by it. She figured as long as she welcomed the escaping cops or “runners,” giving them safe haven for a day while they worked their way to the HQ, she would be fine—not really part of what happened.

  Now she was literally running for her life. If the New Order men found her, they would kill her on the spot. She had no doubt about that. She always knew the aid she gave the police put her in a particularly dangerous position, but helping the police was the only thing she could think to do in the circumstances. Besides, she knew her son, a fallen Marine, would have done the same thing, without hesitation. It had been the right thing to do, and she’d do it again given the chance.

  The trail grew thicker and wilder as she walked, leading Doris to believe she’d somehow lost the main path and had veered off into the forest. Stopping, she dropped her pack and fished out the map she’d barely remembered to bring. Looking around the forest and listening for anyone near her, she chanced using her flashlight. She laid the map and compass as flat as she could on the ground, not sure she could make any sense of the two right now. The times she and her son had gone hiking, they merely walked along well-marked trails. This was something different entirely. Her heart sank as she started to wonder if she did, in fact, go far off the trail, losing her way in the darkness. A navigational error could lead her into New Order territory or cause her to be hopelessly lost in the forest, with little by way of supplies or anticipated assistance. She might be better off staying put until it was daylight.

  As she sat studying the map and compass, an unusual sound caught her attention. The sound definitely did not belong to the forest. It had a metallic quality to it. The sound grew louder, approaching her from the south. Or was it the north? She had no idea. Panic washed over her as she lay flat against the ground, trying desperately to conceal her location from whatever approached.

  Small moving lights appeared in the shadowy recesses of the forest. Damn it! They’re moving right toward me! Shit!

  Doris knew she could not move without risking detection, so she tried as best she could to remain flat and calm. Just as she was about to break cover and run away, a line of bicycles silently streamed past her location. The light from their headlamps gave her a glimpse of the riders. The first thing she noticed was that they were heavily armed, each with a rifle slung over his or her shoulders. A few wore cargo shorts, but most wore long pants. They all sported tactical vests, which she guessed had been outfitted with body armor plates. She knew that from what her son had told her. She also knew the plates were heavy. It wasn’t until the second-to-last rider passed that she saw EVANSVILLE PD displayed on the back of one of the vests.

  The police? Here? Why? Where are they going?

  Standing up from the ground on her creaky legs, she thought about calling out to them, but they’d already disappeared down the trail. She gathered her gear and walked toward the trail, hoping to run into another group of police officers. Doris found the trail again and waited, a few quiet minutes passing before she decided to continue on her own. She felt better about the entire situation, knowing the police were on the trail and had probably cleared it of New Order riffraff.

  Doris walked for another minute or two, paying close attention to where she put her feet on the uneven trail. She never saw the man that stepped onto the trail ahead of her until she had nearly bumbled into his rifle barrel.

  “Hands up where we can see them!” said the man.

  We?

  Figures appeared on both sides of the trail, wordlessly, quickly and efficiently enveloping her with their guns drawn. Doris dropped her pack and slowly raised her trembling hands toward the sky.

  “State your name!”

  “Doris Venture,” she said.

  The man lowered his weapon. “Stand down! Stand down! She’s our package.”

  At once, the men and women quickly stood at ease with their weapons pointed at the ground.

  “Good morning, Ms. Venture. I’m Officer Price from the Grant Police Department. Sorry for the drama, but we can never be too careful.”

  Doris accepted Officer Price’s outstretched hand.

  “Officer Price? Where’re you all heading? I thought the HQ was north of here. I’m trying to get there myself. Geez—I must’ve really gotten lost.”

  “Nope—you’re good. We’re heading south to your house to push back against any attack the New Order might have planned.”

  One of the other officers stepped onto the trail, next to Officer Price.

  “Good morning, ma’am. I’m Officer Jensen,” he said. “I’m in charge of the foot mobile group.”

  Doris shook the man’s thick, sweaty hand, still feeling confused. She had no idea that her and Marta’s conversations were being monitored or that the police cared to defend her home. Why would they?

  “Price, will you escort Ms. Venture to the next safe house. Then you can come back to join us.”

  “Yes, sir. Ms. Venture, do you need a minute to rest, or are you travel ready?”

  “I’m okay to keep moving, but I won’t be running,” she said.

  “No problem, ma’am, we’ll keep it to whatever pace you need. You’ve been a valuable asset to the police during this crisis. You’re somewhat of a legend in our circles. There’s no way the chief will let anything happen to you or your home.”

  A small blush crossed Doris’s face as she rubbed a tear from her eye. Touched by the care shown to her, all she could respond with was a simple, “Thank you.” Through a series of silent commands, Officer Jensen reformed the group. The police ran silently and bravely into harm’s way. Doris lingered for a moment, recalling memories of her deceased son. She knew he would have joined this courageous group of men and women in the defense of their home. A proud nostalgia warmed her spirits.

  “Ma’am? You ready?”

  “I sure am.”

  Chapter Two


  Sam Archer moved through the storage unit as quietly as possible to avoid waking Jane or Lea. The three of them had hidden in the storage locker since they’d rescued Lea from her ex-boyfriend Tank. Lea had been home alone when the lights went out because Sam and Jane had been on a backcountry-hiking trip in the nearby mountains. They had rushed back as quickly as possible through New Order-controlled territory. Their trek had been perilous from the start. The things they’d witnessed were beyond Sam’s ability to make sense of.

  “Good morning, handsome,” whispered Jane, in a sleepy voice.

  “Good morning, beautiful.”

  “Or is it afternoon? Being inside a closed storage unit is a little disorientating.”

  Sam chuckled. “Yeah, almost like being in a casino—you have no idea how long you’ve been there or what time it is. The next time I plan for a disaster, I’ll try to get a storage unit with a skylight, just for you.”

  Jane stretched her petite, slim body luxuriously across the camp cot, like an agile cat rousing from an afternoon nap in the sun. Sam admired her ability to sleep and look completely comfortable in almost any situation. It was one of the many things he loved about his wife of twenty-five years.

  Although the unit was large and served their survival needs well, it did not offer much by way of privacy, especially in their makeshift bathroom. A shower curtain suspended from the ceiling created a tiny nook around their “toilet.” However, the shower curtain did nothing to shield the community space from the sounds and smells made by the bathroom’s occupant. Coming out of the bathroom, Jane washed her hands in a sudsy basin placed next to the bathroom.

  “I think that thing will need to be emptied soon.”

  “Okay—I’ll get it later today.”

  The bucket worked great but needed to be kept clean, especially in tight quarters. He was surprised how quickly it had filled up.

  Her daughter poked her head out of the top of her blanket.

  “I’m starving,” she said.