Small Town EMP (Book 3): Survive The Conflict

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Small Town EMP (Book 3): Survive The Conflict Page 14

by Hamilton, Grace

“Andy?” Savannah asked, seeming rather calm for a person who’d just been kidnapped. Shock, maybe, Malachi guessed.

  “Andy? Is that the little boy?” he asked.

  “Did you find him? Is he okay?”

  “Yes, he’s fine. I have him hidden with Raven and Charlie. Are you okay?” he asked, looking at her face and then over her body.

  “I’m fine.”

  They stared at each other for long seconds before Malachi pulled her into his arms. Relief washed over him. He’d been terrified when he’d seen her being dragged, and could feel himself starting to shake with the emotion of it all as the adrenaline of the moment bled out of him.

  He stepped back when he thought he could speak without his voice shaking. “We should get back to the kid.”

  “What are you doing here?” she asked as they started to walk through the trees.

  “I came after you,” he replied.

  “Oh,” she said belatedly.

  He scoffed. “Did you actually think me or your dad—or your uncle or any of us, for that matter—would let you walk away?”

  “I wish you would have,” she muttered.

  “Never going to happen.”

  When they made it back to the trail, she looked left and right. “Is it just you?” she asked.

  He winced, knowing she was probably going to be a little hurt that her father hadn’t come along, but she didn’t know all that was happening.

  “It’s just me. We’re supposed to catch up with your dad. He’s on his way to Blackfoot, Idaho. I was hoping to have caught up with him yesterday, but you moved fast,” he grumbled.

  “I’ve got to get Andy somewhere safe,” she said, ignoring the subject of catching up with her dad. “His parents were butchered; I’m guessing by those jerks that nabbed me.”

  “I figured that. I saw that scene,” he muttered. “He’s not far.”

  They found the boy sitting on the ground, his legs crossed in front of him as he stared at nothing. Malachi’s heart went out to him. He couldn’t imagine what the little guy had gone through. Malachi had watched his own father die and it had gutted him. He couldn’t imagine being Andy’s age and watching the horrifying acts that had killed his family.

  “Andy, it’s time to go now,” Savannah said in a soft voice, kneeling on the ground in front of the boy.

  He shook his head. Savannah smiled and reached for his hand, helping him to his feet as she got up.

  “Savannah,” Malachi said, stopping her when she turned to continue in the opposite direction from where they needed to go.

  She let out a long sigh. “I have to get him to someone who can take care of him. We can’t leave him here.”

  “We’ll find a camp or a town on the way to join your dad,” he insisted.

  “We know what’s that way,” she whispered.

  Andy shook his head and started to tug on Savannah’s hand.

  “Savannah, they’re going to do something to try and stop all this. Amanda is on her way to Cheyenne and your dad is headed to check the first town in Idaho where they think they can shut down the NWO’s satellite control,” he explained.

  “Malachi, I’m not saying I won’t go back, but I have to find somewhere safe for him,” she said again.

  “No!” Andy shouted, pulling at her hand.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked him.

  He was shaking his head. “Don’t leave me,” he whined.

  “Andy, I’m going to take you somewhere safe, somewhere to live with good people,” she told him gently.

  With that, the kid became hysterical, shaking his head, screaming, and pulling at Savannah’s hand as if to draw her to the ground beside him. “No, no, no!”

  Savannah looked to Malachi and he took a deep breath. “We might as well take him with us. He trusts you.”

  “Malachi, what if it’s dangerous?” she hissed.

  “It’s dangerous everywhere. He’s attached himself to you, though, and he’s not going to leave you easily,” he said, looking at the fear in the boy’s eyes.

  She looked pained, but slowly nodded, letting out a long breath. “Okay.” She turned to face Andy. “You can stay with me, Andy. We’ll take care of you,” she whispered. “But we’re going to get going, okay?”

  The kid nodded, wiping at tears with the back of his hand.

  “Let’s put him on Raven while we walk. It doesn’t look like he’s eaten in a while. We’ll move away from… from the scene, and set up camp for the night,” Malachi said.

  With that, Malachi helped Andy onto Raven and they began to walk back the way he’d come. As they neared the camp where Andy’s parents lay slain, Savannah stopped.

  “We should check for supplies. I saw a tent,” she said in a low voice.

  He grimaced, not keen on stepping foot in the camp, but he knew that, regardless of the nasty scene, they were in desperate need of supplies. “Okay. I’ll go. You stay with him since he likes you and knows you.”

  “Be careful,” she said as they prepared to separate.

  The growing darkness made him uneasy as he crept through the trees towards the area that was undeniably the place of death. He saw the red tent and avoided peering at the bodies as he quickly scoured the area in search of supplies. He came up with a few packs of dried soup buried in a shallow hole. There was a small pot he grabbed along with a tiny first aid kid tucked inside an old butter container. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Thankfully, the tent was one of those that went up easy, with a pull string on the top. Shelter would be a very good thing. He didn’t see the sleeve to hold the tent, but didn’t think they needed it. He’d figure out a way to strap it to one of the horses while they walked.

  Feeling a little better about their situation, he headed back to where he’d left Savannah and the boy. “Got a few things, but not much. Let’s move. We can go another mile or so before it’s too dark to move,” he said solemnly.

  “Thank you, Malachi,” she said.

  He wasn’t thrilled to be in charge of a little kid, but could take comfort in knowing they were on the right track. And, most importantly, he’d gotten back Savannah. Hopefully, they could make good time and catch up to Austin.

  19

  Zander walked into the tent that had been set up by the men under his command. It made him feel powerful to be the king, even if he wasn’t the king of the world—yet. Five years ago, he couldn’t have imagined being a man with men jumping to do his bidding. He’d been a nobody, a petty thief without a penny to his name. He’d been homeless, in jail more often than out.

  Now, he was a man on the rise in the organization, and felt confident he’d soon be sitting at the king’s table. Assuming he got Austin Merryman taken care of. The guy was elusive, and he couldn’t be sure the note was legit, but something told him it was. Austin wasn’t like him… he wasn’t a leader, and his people didn’t fear him. He’d done a horrible job keeping them safe. Now, they were on the run, hungry and scared. That worked in Zander’s favor.

  Someone didn’t trust Austin. That someone was reaching out, clearly understanding who the stronger man was. And there was no doubt in Zander’s mind that he was the strongest, most determined man; the people who’d hitched their wagons to Austin’s had to be second-guessing their decision.

  “We have whiskey, sir,” one of his men said, standing outside the tent door.

  “Bring it in,” he ordered gruffly.

  He sat down on the pile of blankets that had been positioned for him. They were on horseback for now, but the goal was to meet up with one of the convoys currently moving towards his location to pick him up. They’d picked up Austin’s trail and were going to get him soon—Zander could feel it.

  The glass of whiskey he’d ordered was delivered, with the man quickly exiting the tent and leaving him alone. He didn’t feel the least bit guilty that some of the men didn’t have shelter and that he was occupying a rather large tent all by himself. He’d earned the privacy and the luxury accommodations, even if
they weren’t quite as nice as the tower back in Denver. Once he turned over Austin and took care of the missing USB drive, he planned to ask for one of the mansions currently being held by the NWO. He was going to get the life he deserved.

  He took a sip of the whiskey, letting it roll down the back of his throat. His dinner would be served soon—another perk for being the guy at the top of the totem pole. While he waited, he pulled out the map. He guessed they were about a hundred miles from Blackfoot. The trail Austin’s people were leaving certainly suggested they were heading in that general direction. His trackers had gone ahead yesterday and were even now out scouting for clues.

  “Sir!” one of the soldiers shouted before rapping on the tent’s flap by way of announcing himself.

  He rolled his eyes. “Stop shouting. I have a headache,” he growled.

  The soldier cleared his throat, standing in front of the tent with only his lower half visible through the door.

  “Sir, the trackers are back. They have news.”

  “Send them in. Also, where’s my dinner?” he groused.

  “I’ll check, sir,” the man replied before he scurried away.

  Shortly after his departure, two more sets of legs appeared in the doorway. The tent wasn’t the usual military tent he took along with him. He’d had to settle for a standard eight-man tent with a door that cut off the heads of his visitors. He didn’t have to worry it was an enemy. His men were guarding him with their very lives.

  “Come in,” he said in a stern voice.

  The first tracker through presented him with a piece of paper, rife with familiar handwriting that made his heart beat faster. It was another note from his source on the inside.

  “Meet me in Twin Falls at the Evel Knievel Jump Monument,” he read aloud.

  Zander looked up at the men he’d sent ahead, questioning them without words.

  “That was folded and placed inside a bag that we found hung from the rearview mirror of a vehicle along the highway to Blackfoot. We’re convinced that’s their destination,” the first man said, not looking Zander directly in the eye.

  Zander read the note again before pulling the first note from the bag he’d placed it in. It was the same handwriting.

  “How far is Twin Falls from Blackfoot?”

  “About five days’ walk, sir. With our horses, we can make it in four.”

  “What’s the status of the convoy?” Zander asked.

  The two trackers looked at each other. “I don’t know, sir. We can find out.”

  “Do we know if they’ve reached Blackfoot already?” Zander asked, an idea forming.

  The men shook their heads. “No, sir. At least two days out.”

  Zander nodded. “Good, then we ride to Twin Falls and set up. I want to see them coming. I want to know if this is a trap. Better to get ahead than play catch-up.”

  “Yes, sir,” they said, and quickly rushed out of the tent.

  Zander stared at both the notes. He had to consider the possibility that the notes had been placed by Austin himself. He didn’t think so, but he wasn’t about to get taken by surprise. Austin was a formidable opponent, but Zander was convinced he could outsmart and outmaneuver him. Zander had something Austin didn’t—no conscience. He didn’t care how many people died or how they died. It was all about him getting to the top. He would stomp on fingers, toes, and heads to get there. His men were expendable, too. Every day, more men and women were pledging their allegiance to the NWO. It was all part of the master plan. Break society down until the only option was to join or die.

  His dinner arrived, giving him something else to focus on. He tucked both notes into his bag. If it wasn’t Austin setting a trap and there was truly a Judas in the guy’s group, Zander decided that he’d be the one to tell him. He wanted Austin to know he wasn’t a leader, that he didn’t have loyalty. It would be the last thing he got to discover before he died. The only question left was whether Zander would kill him slowly or quickly.

  20

  Austin felt real excitement at finally reaching their first destination, though it was tempered by the fact that Malachi and Savannah still hadn’t rejoined them. He knew Malachi knew the plan, and he knew how capable the young man was, and that what they’d done had made sense… but none of that allayed his worries over whether or not they were okay. So much could have happened since they’d all split up, and he couldn’t stop himself from thinking the worst. Several times, he’d been tempted to leave the others and backtrack to try to pick up their trail, but logic had prevailed when he’d realized that his daughter could have gone in any direction by now, making it near impossible to find them since the trail would have gone so cold by now. He just had to remind himself that what he was doing would not only save his daughter, but everyone else, as well, even if it didn’t stop the incessant worry.

  They had all pushed themselves, putting in extra miles every day in an attempt to reach Blackfoot ahead of schedule. Sarah had been the one driving the group on the most, which was a change in pace. But as much as Sarah pushed, Wendell pulled.

  “We’re here, so can we please take a break now?” Wendell whined.

  Sarah, walking alongside Austin at the head of the group, turned around to glare at him for at least the tenth time. “Does it look like we’re here? We’re not here,” she snapped. “We’re just close, and that doesn’t mean we can rest.”

  Austin could hear Ennis assuring Wendell they’d be stopping early that night. It was infuriating to listen to the two of them, and grated on Austin’s nerves. Wendell was acting like a petulant child, and Ennis constantly tried to comfort and assure him they were almost there. A five-year-old would have had more endurance.

  “We need to get to the computer center. It’s on the outskirts of town,” Austin said.

  Harlen trudged along, as silent and stalwart as he’d been the entire trip. The guy always seemed lost in deep thought. “I hope we’ll be able to scout for some more food. We’ve about gone through everything we picked up at that little store,” the man said.

  Austin nodded. “That’s the plan. We’ll get to the computer center and check it out. If there’s nothing, we’ll spend the rest of the day scouting for food and supplies. Then we’ll make camp and head out early tomorrow.”

  It was a grueling pace, but they couldn’t afford to drop the ball. He only hoped Amanda hadn’t been waylaid. She had to get to those missiles, though it wouldn’t do any good if he couldn’t reach a functioning computer center and shut down the satellite target systems. He’d contemplated turning on the messenger to send her a message and check on the other group’s progress, but Sarah had been adamant that they wait, which would mean Amanda wouldn’t have hers on to get the message anyway.

  “It’s off this old highway,” Sarah announced.

  “I thought we were going into the city,” Wendell complained.

  “No!” she snapped.

  They turned right, heading north along a narrow blacktop road with no lines down the middle or either side. It wasn’t a road that would have been used often. Power lines ran alongside it, just outside a long line of white fencing. Austin surveyed the flat terrain that would have once been a place for cattle to graze. Farmhouses were scattered about, some burned out; others they had investigated in days past had been the scenes of horrible crimes that had likely left the inhabitants dead.

  “How much farther? This is a dead-end,” Wendell whined.

  Austin had a feeling Sarah was about ready to hit the guy over the head with the laptop secured in her backpack. And if she didn’t, he might. They walked for another forty-five minutes before Sarah came to an abrupt stop at a crossroads. The dirt road on the left looked like it headed out to more farmland. The path on the right was gravel, and again, it didn’t look promising. Up ahead, the paved road seemed to stretch on forever, with nothing in sight but more houses with acres and acres of agriculture between them.

  “What are we doing?” Austin asked her.

  She lo
oked puzzled, but then pointed towards the gravel road. “This way.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I memorized the map. I’m positive.”

  “Is it underground? What exactly are we looking for?” Austin asked, suddenly very weary himself.

  He’d been expecting something obvious—a building, a military base… something more than a field of what had likely been full of potatoes.

  “There’s not going to be a flashing sign alerting us, Austin. It is out here, though, and I’ll recognize it when we see it. The cover is a mechanic’s shop,” she said nonchalantly.

  Austin shook his head. “Really?”

  She nodded. “Yes, really. It’s this way. Not much farther.”

  Austin took a deep breath, hoping the woman knew what she was talking about. He’d seen the maps and known the computer centers would be hidden, but a mechanic’s shop in the middle of a potato field seemed a bit far-fetched.

  Sure enough, a sign announcing Mike’s Autoshop stood out alongside the road.

  They kept walking, slowly approaching the building with its sloped roof, faded blue paint in big block letters indicating that they’d reached the shop. It didn’t look promising. One of the windows was boarded over, and the garage on the left looked like it had been abandoned for a lot longer than a few months. There were a few cars in the gravel parking lot, most appearing long broken down.

  “I’ll check the garage,” Ennis said, moving to put his face against the glass.

  “It looks abandoned,” Wendell said, standing back.

  Austin moved to the door and tried the doorknob, only to find it locked. He used his shoulder to slam against it a couple times. The door gave way without a lot of fight. Dust floated around the room, highlighted by the sun streaming in through the open door. Austin waved his hand through the air, clearing it the best he could.

  “Where in the world would there be a computer center in this tiny place?” Harlen asked, walking in behind him.

  “Underground,” Sarah said, moving behind the tall counter.

 

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