Breakdown: An EMP Survival Thriller (The EMP Terror Series Book 1)

by J. R. Tate

  Walking through, she felt a debilitating level of sorrow course through her. Lamps were knocked over and broken. One of the couches had been ripped open - the insides all over the floor. The TV had fallen off of the wall and shattered. The kitchen was the worst. The walk-in pantry was empty, the refrigerator hung wide open with nothing left in it either. Even the liquor cabinet held no contents. Sliding against the wall, Alice sat on the floor and hugged her knees to her chest, allowing more tears to fall.

  “I’m so sorry, Alice.” Tom and Randi had caught up to her and he patted her on the shoulder.

  “I can’t even get a drink to calm my nerves.” Alice motioned toward the liquor cabinet. “Those sons of bitches! Son of a bitch!” Her voice echoed again and her body shook as she cried. “He’s not here. Dylan isn’t here.”

  “Where could he have gone?” Tom asked, sitting next to her on the floor, the crack of broken glass under the soles of his shoes.

  “I don’t know.” Alice shrugged and wiped her cheeks. “I have no idea.”

  “Does he have friends that live nearby? Where was he when this happened?”

  “School. I’m pretty sure he was still at school. He has friends who live in the area.”

  “Good. He probably didn’t want to be alone.” Tom patted her again. “You’re allowed to have a momentary freakout but remember that Dylan needs you. Have your meltdown and then try to think about where he might’ve gone.”

  Alice ducked her head and took a deep breath. Standing, she wiped her hands down her scrubs and continued through the house. She wasn’t sure why she was doing it - seeing it in the shape it was in was heart-wrenching. The family pictures on the wall, Jake’s belongings in the bedroom, Dylan’s room, and Sophie… poor Sophie. She was all alone in Boston. How was Alice going to get to her? How was she going to bring her daughter home? She needed Jake there. She needed his rational thinking and the calming effect he held over her. His years in the military would be helpful in a time like this.

  “God, I hope they’re all still alive,” Alice whispered to the empty room. Tom and Randi were downstairs waiting on her, giving her a moment alone, which she needed but also feared. “Please make it home. I hope we all make it home and can be together.”

  Tom’s suggestion ran through her mind. She was allowed a moment like this. It was due and everything had all come to the surface, revealing the real amount of trouble they were all in. But she could only afford a few minutes of acting that way. She had to come back to reality. She had to be strong, especially for Dylan. He was somewhere close and come hell or high water, she was going to find her youngest child. They were already going through hell. Bring on the high water.

  Walking down the stairs, Randi and Tom watched her from below. Alice forced a smile and smoothed her hands over her ponytail. “Let’s try the school first. Maybe the administration held them all there and didn’t let them leave. It’s about ten blocks to the north if you’re both up to walk some more. If you aren’t, you’re free to stay here and rest.”

  “We’re here for you, Alice. We’ll be right there with you.” For the first time, Randi spoke up, her compassion genuine as she held Alice’s hand. “We’ve been walking for miles. Ten more blocks will be a piece of cake.”

  Alice smiled and this time it wasn’t forced. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  ***

  “Jake? Jake, can you hear me?”

  He could hear the voice but it sounded like it was far away. Struggling to open his eyes, he squinted from the bright light above him, his head feeling like someone was driving a nail right through his forehead. Why in the hell was it so hard to open his eyes and where was he? Groaning out in pain, he tried to sit up but something heavy was on his chest, preventing him from moving very far.

  “Jake, don’t move. Just lay back.”

  “No. What is…” he trailed off, his head resting on something hard. Attempting to open his eyes again, that same damn light drove right through his skull and he felt the urge to vomit. “Where am I?”

  “On the side of the highway. You fainted. Here, drink some water.”

  He finally recognized the voice. It was Becky and everything came back to him. They were stranded in the wilderness. Colin’s leg was broken. And he had killed a man. The guilt hit him hard and he was finally able to open his eyes, though his vision wasn’t clear. Blinking to clear the blurriness, he fought past the person whose hand was on his chest and sat up, drinking over half the bottle of water before he reminded himself that he needed to ration everything they had.

  “Are you okay? How are you feeling?” Becky sat beside him and handed him a sleeve of crackers, which did not sound appetizing. “Eat a few. They’ll settle your stomach.”

  Jake pulled one out and took a bite. “What happened?”

  “What’s the last thing you remember?”

  Jake made note of what time it was, estimating the placement of the sun. With the mountains around them, it was hard to get a good idea of where the sun actually was, but it was dusk, and they’d lose daylight very soon.

  “I shot that man at the lake. Then I started pulling Colin down the highway again. And here we are.” He spread his hands and glanced to his left. Colin was staring at him and Jake felt his face heat up. He was supposed to be the leader and he had passed out. It wasn’t exactly a way to instill confidence in the group.

  “That’s pretty much how it all happened. I think you have a head injury by how you’re acting.”

  Jake heaved a deep sigh and ran his hands through his hair. That was his assumption since his symptoms presented themselves but he was in denial. He didn’t have time to deal with it. “How long was I out for?”

  “At least an hour.”

  “More like two,” Colin replied. “You hit your head on the way down. You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine. Nothing we can do about it anyway.”

  “Well, there’s no sense in keeping on tonight. The sun is about to go down and though you’re going to disagree, you need to rest. There are more campsites nearby and we can make a fire in one of the pits.”

  Jake didn’t even have the energy to refute Becky’s suggestion. Attempting to pull Colin in the shape he was in was a recipe for disaster. Becky helped him stand up and it took him a second to get the world to stop spinning. Larry and another man in the group helped get the travois down to the campsite where they were already working on getting a fire started.

  “How far would you say we went today?” Jake asked, knowing he wouldn’t be happy with the distance.

  Colin arched his eyebrow and contemplated the question. “I’d say about four miles.”

  “Shit. That’s what I was afraid of. We keep at this pace and we’ll get back to Texas in a couple of years.” Traveling on foot wasn’t an efficient way to get anywhere fast but without cars, they really didn’t have many options.

  After a dinner of airplane snacks and canned sodas, most of the group turned in for the night. Jake set up a pallet next to Colin’s travois, close enough to the fire for warmth but far enough he wouldn’t get too hot. The crackle of the flames was soothing and the flicker of the orange flames on the side of a nearby mountain made him pretend he was out camping with his family, much like they used to do before they all got busy with school and work. Long before Sophie ever left for Boston.

  Insomnia plagued him again. What could they do to travel faster? At this rate, they’d never make it home and that wasn’t an option. Sitting up, he rubbed his throbbing temples and looked around. They were in a rural area. There had to be ranches nearby, especially as they got closer to town. Grabbing the backpack Becky had been carrying, he rummaged through it. There was plenty of supplies to tide him over for the night, including the handgun he had used to save Becky and the other woman. One day he’d learn everyone’s names but right now that wasn’t an important detail.

  Grabbing a piece of paper from a notepad, he jotted down a quick note, letting them know where he was in cas
e someone woke up and noticed he was gone - also, just in case if something happened to him. He didn’t have a set plan on what he was going to do but the goal was finding quicker transportation. Pulling the travois by hand was going to send them all to an early grave.

  It probably wasn’t the wisest decision to run off alone but he had to be useful. Lying on the ground and contemplating the what if’s made him feel like he was spinning in thick mud. At least it was a full moon, helping him see. The gun was heavy in his pocket - it’d be important for more than one reason. Wild animals or people with bad intentions - he felt safer having it in his possession.

  The small town they had visited before wasn’t far, though it proved to be a waste of time. The mountain range spread out farther as he reached what used to be a somewhat heavier populated area where more houses were popping up on the side of the road and down into valleys. If he could find an old vehicle that was still running he’d probably scream out in excitement. It was a plausible plan since it was ranch country and a lot of old timers hung on to things like that.

  Taking a detour down a long driveway, Jake quickened his pace to a slow jog. Head aching, world spinning, he pressed on. There was a fairly decent sized farmhouse about two hundred yards away, separated by a large vineyard that spanned to the front and sides of the house. Jake plucked a few grapes from the vine and ate them - they were sour and not ready yet but it was still something to help nourish his body.

  Going up the steps of the porch, he tried the front door, which was locked. Peering through the window, he couldn’t tell if anyone was inside. It was almost pitch black and so eerily silent that he could hear the faintest rustle of leaves on the nearby pecan tree. Pecans would be another good source of protein, so Jake gathered up as many as he could into the backpack.

  He heard the loud neigh of a horse in the distance. Stopping his tracks, Jake looked around to try and figure out where it was coming from, hoping it wasn’t something his imagination conjured up. It was like a mirage in the desert, only he was hearing something that would be extremely beneficial for his group.

  “Come on, neigh again.”

  Everything fell silent and the wind rustled through the vineyard. Jogging to the back pasture, Jake felt like he had hit the lottery when he saw the horse barn and barbed wire fence a quarter mile up the dirt trail. Stopping at the gate, he hesitated. The ranch was kept up nicely. The horses belonged to someone. He couldn’t just snag horses away from people.

  Leaning on the fence, he counted four. Four would be enough as long as they shared. They could each pull a travois and the children could still ride on them like they had been. It was the perfect plan and it almost felt too good to be true - too easy, like disaster was waiting right out in the bushes.

  Going in the fence, Jake looked at their food and water area. Their troughs were empty and the water was bone dry. Maybe the owners were no longer there. Maybe they had run off like the rest of the world seemed to have done. But why would they leave something as precious as horses behind, especially since automobiles no longer worked?

  He padded over to the shed and opened the door, the metal squeaking from the friction. A nauseating stench stung Jake’s nostrils and made him gag. What in the hell was it? He couldn’t see but when he opened the door all the way, he got a good look inside and yelled when he saw the corpse of an older man staring back at him - his mouth was wide as if he died in mid-scream. His head had a bullet hole in it and his hand was clutching a black revolver. The first assumption was the man had killed himself.

  “Son of a bitch!” Jake took a few steps away, falling backward against a shelf that held various tools and ropes. Were things already bad enough for people to feel the need to commit suicide? Standing, he approached the man again, looking to see if he had left a note. Jake was hesitant to touch him but patted down the front of his shirt, feeling the crackle of a piece of paper in his front pocket. As expected, he had written a note to whoever was left to find him.

  “I was already so alone. And now this is happening. I won’t let the evil take me. I’m going out on my own terms.”

  Jake folded the note up and slipped it back into his pocket. He wouldn’t let the evil take him? What evil? Apparently, others knew more than Jake did. And now he had found four horses that he could use. Grabbing the ropes, he searched for saddles but only came across two. Carrying both of them, he went back out to the pasture and cornered the horses. He had experience riding but it had been several years since he had been on one.

  They were tame and trained which was another stroke of luck on his side. He’d take it where he could, seeing as everything before now was a strike against him getting back to his family. Sliding the saddles on, he maneuvered the rope to group them all together, the length barely enough to get around them to constrain them. Hopping on the lead horse, Jake guided them up the driveway and back to the highway. Glancing back at the house, he thought about the old man in the horse barn who felt that times were desperate enough to take his own life. One man’s misfortune was another man’s flicker of hope. It also made Jake second-guess himself. Two people now had mentioned evil and someone coming. It posed a big question - was it worth even trying to survive through?

  Shoving the doubt aside, he thought about Alice, Sophie, and Dylan. They were worth trying to survive for. That would be his continued inspiration despite all of the death and uncertainty lingering all around them. They now had horses. It’d cut down travel time tremendously. As he thought before - he had to take the good things as they came, even if it felt too easy. Even if it felt like he couldn’t celebrate for too long with the possibility of danger around every corner.

  With an effective way of travel, they’d have a target on their back. People would be gunning for them. Jake made a mental note that they would stop at the houses along the way tomorrow when they came back through. Farm houses and ranches meant they’d probably run across more guns and ammunition, which was now just as important as food and water.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Sophie felt Danny’s heavy breathing next to her but she couldn’t see anything. It was pitch black around her and the air was cold and damp. The scent was musty and if she had to guess, she’d say they were in a basement or a cellar. Her memory was fuzzy but it came back to her fast when she heard Danny’s groans of pain. They had been kidnapped by a man and a woman and Danny had gotten kicked several times.

  Sitting up, she tried to squint into the darkness but she couldn’t even see her hand in front of her face. The only comforting thing was knowing that Danny was right there beside her - his labored breathing was worrisome and she scooted up against him, skimming her hand through his hair, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of him. Another grunt vibrated in his chest and Sophie slid as close as possible to him, her pulse racing at the situation they had gotten themselves into.

  “Danny, can you hear me?” Whispering, she looked off in the distance, fearing her captors were in the same room, off in the corner, listening to everything they were doing. The thought of them right there made her frantic and it was hard to keep a lid on panicking. “Danny? Are you awake?”

  Silence ensued, confirming that Danny was out of it. That added on top of the fear she was already experiencing - how bad were his injuries? The man had beat him pretty hard and the last thing Sophie could remember was Danny’s bloody face as they were pulled from the bedroom they had been sleeping in. At least he was breathing. It wasn’t calm respirations but it was better than nothing.

  Running her hand down his side, she blindly searched for his arm to attempt to find a pulse. His skin was cold and clammy and the sweat gathered on her palm. It took longer than usual to find his pulse, partly from the dark, partly because it was weak. Tears stung the corners of her eyes. This couldn’t be happening. Danny had to be okay. They had to make it back to Texas and not allow their kidnappers to win.

  An unnerving thought hit Sophie hard - what if they had thrown her and Danny in a cellar or basement
and left them for dead? There was no way for her to know what their intentions were and her sense of time was off due to no windows or light getting in. She couldn’t just lay around and let Danny suffer. Even if she couldn’t see, she could at least try and find a set of stairs or a ladder if they really were in a basement.

  Standing, she took a second to try and gain a vantage point. Now she understood what blind people went through every day and it made her knees wobble. Counting the steps from Danny until she found the wall, she made a mental note so it wouldn’t be so hard to find Danny again. The walls were cold and hard, feeling like brick and mortar under her hands.

  Walking the perimeter, the dust got thicker, the smell of mildew stronger, and her heart beat faster with each step she took, memorizing how many steps it was taking to go to different spots. It was a nightmare mimicking a dream she often had as a child - waking up in her room, unable to find the light switch or lamp to help her find her way. Her dad always came in to rescue her but now he wasn’t there. Her father wouldn’t come to the rescue and turn a light on, getting her far away from the danger that ensued.

  She heard the strike of a match close by. The friction on the box hissed and the flicker of a small flame was right in front of her, illuminating a man’s face. Jumping back, Sophie let out a squeal. It was the man who beat up Danny – middle-aged, wrinkled, his skin weathered from the sun. Even from the little preview of his face from the match, the hair on the back of Sophie’s neck stood up. The man’s intentions weren’t good ones and there was no one there to help her.

  “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” His voice matched his gruff appearance. He sounded just like a person who smoked two packs of cigarettes a day.

  “I’m trying to help my friend. He’s hurt really bad.” Playing the sympathy card probably wouldn’t help but it was the only line of defense Sophie felt that she had.