Days of Danger

by Jack Hunt

  “Keep them busy.”

  “What?”

  “People with too much time on their hands, think too much. Keep them busy.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Mend the wall, scavenge for more supplies and…” Samuel trailed off.

  Frank replied, “And?”

  Samuel shifted in his seat. “Train us to fight. At the end of the day, general, your enemies are mine.”

  He was cold and callous. But Frank liked that. It reminded him of himself. He wasn’t sure what to make of Samuel. One thing for sure, Frank liked to be referred to as general. His acknowledgement of his rank showed respect, and his honesty had already thwarted two takeover attempts. Okay, the second was still to be determined but he had a sense that he was telling the truth. He’d already thrown his own brother under the bus in order to prove his loyalty. What else did he have to prove?

  Outside, after leaving Shelby’s office, Samuel felt a wave of confidence. It had worked. He’d bought it. Samuel nodded to a soldier on his way back from escorting Frank’s brother away. After collecting a bottle of water, he made his way outside into the yard and over to his brother who hung limp from the post. No one stopped him because who in their right mind would try to release him when armed guards patrolled on the walls? A hard Texas sun bore down as Samuel got closer to his brother. There were few clouds in the blue sky that stretched over them. Samuel dragged over a log that was positioned by a nearby campfire. He turned it vertical and stood on it to reach his brother’s lips.

  “Here you go, Ryan,” he said bringing the bottle up to his dry, cracked lips.

  Ryan swallowed slowly at first but then took more.

  “Slow down. It’s okay.”

  As he was drinking from the bottle, Samuel got real close.

  “It worked, brother. It worked.” He removed the bottle from his lips and screwed the cap back on. He gripped his hand. “It won’t be long and we’ll take this compound back.”

  “And if they won’t fight?” Ryan muttered.

  “I’ll find people that will. I promise.”

  Ryan nodded but said nothing as Samuel dropped down and dragged the log back to where it had been. As he walked away, his mind drifted back to the conversation he’d had with his brother, the night he was taken. “Then join me. Work with me, brother, to take them down from the inside,” Ryan had said. Samuel had thought long and hard about those words after leaving his room. Two hours later he’d returned, and that’s when they hatched the plan to earn Frank’s trust in order to take him down from the inside. Turning over Ryan was just par for the course. It was a huge risk, and one that could have cost them their lives, but if it meant freedom, it was a price they were both willing to pay.

  Damon held Ella’s limp body in his arms after cutting her down. He didn’t get to say goodbye. Although no tears were shed in that moment, he couldn’t help but feel the loss. He ran a hand over her blood-splattered cheek and closed her eyelids. Behind him angry fists beat on the door calling for Dallas. They wouldn’t get an answer. A few feet away, Dallas lay motionless, peppered with slugs.

  It occurred so fast.

  Ella moved.

  Dallas pulled the trigger.

  And Damon reacted by unloading four rounds into his frame. Dallas twisted and collapsed, dying instantly.

  “Dallas!” a gruff voice bellowed outside.

  Several rounds were fired at the door. Wood spat in every direction. Damon knew within a matter of minutes they’d come bursting in and it would be over. He was ready to die if need be. He’d been ready to die as far back as his time in Rikers. Damon wasn’t afraid of death. It was coming whether he liked it or not.

  Damon turned and fired a few rounds at the door to hold back the tide for a few more minutes. He looked down at Ella one last time before rising to his feet. He exhaled hard and ambled over to the bar and took a bottle of bourbon, twisted the top and chugged it down before wiping his lips. He gazed around looking for exit points. Besides the two doors at the front, there was one side door. There were no windows except at the front. He figured they were guarding all three spots, just waiting for him to emerge.

  “Well I guess this is it.”

  He took a deep breath and his eyes washed over the bottles of whiskey, rum and bourbon. Behind him he could hear a generator churning over. That’s when an idea came to him. There was a fifty-fifty chance of him surviving but at least if he was going out, he planned on taking a few with him. Damon fired the remainder of his Glock’s magazine at the door and windows to buy him some time. Glass shattered as they returned fire. He slid over the bar, grabbed a few of the empty bottles from a recyclable trashcan and hurried toward the rear to locate the generator. He could have used one hundred percent rum but any lower than that and there was a chance it wouldn’t work. Once he located the rumbling generator, he switched it off and removed the cap which held the diesel and then kicked it over. It hit the ground hard and diesel fluid splashed out. He took the bottles and began filling as many as he could from the liquid now draining out. He created seven Molotov cocktails. He tore off his shirt and used it to create some rags that he tucked it into each bottle.

  Damon carried them and set them on the bar, then fired a few more rounds with his AR-15 at the walls, windows and doors. He ducked as drywall spat all over the place and rounds tore up the décor. He had only one goal, and that was to make it hard for them to see him exit. After lighting the rags on two, he grabbed the bottles and rushed towards the shattered windows and tossed them out in different directions. He raced back and did the same with two more though this time kicking one of the front doors open and lobbing them out.

  Outside, fire smothered the ground and black smoke rose.

  He grabbed two more and opened the side door and threw them out.

  Gunfire erupted from every direction as they tried to get a bead on him. He snatched up the last cocktail, gave one last glance at Ella and then tossed it at the front of the bar. It exploded and tongues of flame licked up the wood, catching the wall and bar afire. He made a dash for the side exit, running out into a smoke-filled sky. He squeezed off rounds in rapid succession, striking one of them before climbing up a short wall that let him get on the bar’s incline roof. Once on that he climbed onto the grassy slope behind it. Those who spotted him fired at him. A bullet struck him between the shoulder blades. He gasped but there was no time to stay put. Even though he was wearing a ballistic vest, pain shot through him. Damon kept moving, scrambling up the steep incline, his pulse hammering hard as he darted between the trees returning fire and tried to make his escape.

  Behind him, he heard women and men yelling.

  He had no idea how many were outside, or how many would follow, but he wouldn’t risk taking a look over his shoulder. Damon turned on the jets, his knees pumping like pistons.

  He scanned his field of vision and kept running, darting between trees, crossing roads and going around homes. Occasionally he took cover behind vehicles to see if anyone was coming but he never stayed in one spot long.

  All that mattered now was getting home.

  Chapter 22

  A warm band of summer light filtered through pine trees as the sun rose over Lake Placid the next morning. Elliot placed the last duffel bag into the back of the white Chevy truck and looked toward Jesse who waited by the side of the road holding out hope for Damon’s return. It was nearly six and as promised they were about to embark on a long journey for the compound in Texas. Elliot cast a glance at Gary who sat inside the truck, his head leaning against the passenger side window. Shock would have been the best way to describe his reaction to the news of Jill’s death. No tears were shed, nor was he inconsolable, instead, he simply retreated inward. There was no way to know what was going through his mind, or how it would affect him. Everyone dealt with loss in different ways. However, when asked if he still wanted to go to the FEMA camp, he simply shook his head and replied, “Not now.”

  Kong trotted over with Lily
and Evan, and took a piss beside the driveway, as if marking his territory just in case they ever returned. After, he hopped into the back of the truck bed and joined Clive and his wife, Wendy, Brianna, Tristan Summers and her child, Brian Hanson and Thomas Walsh. They were the only ones that would be joining them. Although initially some of the neighbors along the street had shown an interest in going, when it came down to it, they went back on that decision. As crazy as it might seem, there would always be those that couldn’t envision life beyond their hometown. Their memories were there, family was there, and if they couldn’t survive, then they would accept their fate.

  Elliot didn’t hold it against them. Besides, it would have been hard to feed them all.

  They assumed the journey to East Texas would take anywhere from two to five days, depending on what problems they faced — so they’d packed enough provisions to see them through a round-trip just in case.

  “Clive, did you remember the extra gasoline?”

  “We’re sitting on it,” he said getting up with the others and pulling back a thick coat to reveal three large gas cans.

  Elliot patted the side of the truck. “Good. Maggie, how about ammo and weapons?”

  “I’ve checked it three times. Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

  Rayna was the last to join them. She’d wanted to gather a few belongings, photos mainly, and the children’s keepsakes. She adjusted the bag over her shoulder and gave a strained smile as she placed it in the back.

  “How long’s he been waiting by the road?” she asked looking at Jesse.

  “Since four this morning.”

  “You think he made it?”

  “I don’t know,” Elliot said. “If anyone could, Damon would.”

  She turned and looked at Gary. “Does he blame me?”

  “I never told him how it went down, only that you were both jumped.”

  “What?”

  He turned his head toward her. “You expect me to tell him that Jill wanted to leave, but you wanted to help some girl who turned out to be a tweaker?”

  “He deserves the truth, Elliot.”

  “Does it matter? She’s gone.”

  “It matters to me. I’m here because of Jill. She saved my life and Brianna’s.”

  “I didn’t leave that out. In his mind, she died trying to protect you. I just didn’t say that she returned to get you out.”

  Rayna shook her head, then ran a hand through her hair. “But—”

  Elliot was quick to jump in. “If you want to have that conversation with him, be my guest but be ready for the fallout.”

  “I had no way of knowing what was going to happen.”

  “Exactly. All he needs to know is that she died trying to protect you.”

  “And if Brianna says anything?”

  “She won’t.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Elliot exhaled hard and looked back at Jesse. “I’m going to have a word with him. Jump in, we’ll head out in a few minutes.”

  She nodded as he walked off. Jesse was leaning against a tree, holding a rifle low in one hand and twisting an elastic band around his fingers in the other.

  “Jesse.”

  “Five more minutes, Elliot. It’s not six yet.”

  “I’m not rushing you.”

  He gave Elliot a hard a stare.

  “I know you think we should have gone back and helped but it was too dangerous. There were too many unknowns.”

  “I know.” Jesse nodded and sighed. “I just hope he hasn’t got himself killed.” He grimaced. “He would have been back by now.”

  Elliot sighed. “It wasn’t easy getting out of that town even for us.”

  Jesse tossed the elastic band and kept staring off down the road. A flock of birds broke from the trees, soaring high over the homes. It was quiet. No gunfire. No engines. No screams.

  “What if it doesn’t work out?” Jesse asked.

  “Then we return or make our home somewhere else. We’ll deal with that when we get to it.”

  Jesse looked at his watch, his knee was jerking. It was either nervousness or stress.

  “You wouldn’t have been able to help.”

  “But I could have at least tried,” Jesse said.

  “And you might have died.”

  “Damon has saved my ass multiple times.”

  “And one day you will get to repay him,” Elliot replied placing a hand on the tree.

  “I hope so.” He took a deep breath, looked at his watch again. “He’s not coming, is he?”

  Elliot breathed in the fresh morning air. “Maybe not now but he knows where we’re heading.”

  Jesse nodded. “Yeah, he’ll probably show up in Texas looking better than ever.”

  They tried to remain lighthearted, but they both knew he could be lying dead in a ditch. The probability was high, and the odds were stacked against him. Jesse turned toward the truck. “Let’s go then.”

  They returned, did a quick check to make sure everyone was accounted for and hopped in. Elliot fired up the engine. He gave Gary a quick glance. His eyes were closed. Either he was sleeping or not interested in talking. Elliot veered out of the driveway and turned south on Mirror Lake Drive. The atmosphere inside was quiet and somber as they left behind everything they’d come to know as home.

  They’d only made it twenty yards down the road and had just gone over a rise when Kong started barking. Rayna cast a glance over her shoulder and had Evan pulled the window open in the rear so he could tell Kong to be quiet. Before he had a chance to do that, Kong jumped out and start bolting up the road.

  “Oh God,” Elliot said, groaning. “C’mon!”

  “He’s probably gone to collect one of his bones,” Rayna said.

  “I’ll get him, Dad,” Evan said.

  “No, you wait here,” he replied, putting the vehicle in park by the side of the road and pushing out. He didn’t want to turn the vehicle around as it wasn’t that far back to the house. Elliot jogged, calling his name.

  “Kong! Hey boy, c’mon, we gotta go!”

  As he made his way over the rise in the road, he squinted.

  There in the distance, at the mouth of his driveway, running his hands through Kong’s hair was Damon. He turned Elliot’s way and a flicker of a smile appeared.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  Damon made his way down to meet him, his face blackened by smoke. When he caught up with Elliot, they hugged it out. As they parted Elliot looked off down the road, an expression of concern on his face.

  “Ella?” Elliot asked.

  Damon dropped his chin before shaking his head.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He nodded.

  They made their way back to the truck. As soon as Jesse caught sight of him he got out of the truck and had this big grin on his face. “I knew it! Shit, I told you he would make it!”

  “I know you did,” Elliot said with a smile.

  Damon gripped Jesse’s hand and pulled him in for a pat on the back. He greeted the others and hopped into the rear, taking a seat near the window.

  “Where’s Jill?” he asked.

  The very mention of her name stirred Gary from his slumber. He looked at Damon for a second then closed his eyes. No one needed to explain, Damon understood. That was the thing about the new world they were living in. Death lingered at their door every day. There were no guarantees that anyone would survive. As they drove away, heading for uncharted territory, Elliot tried not to dwell on what challenges or horrors lay before them since they were living on borrowed time and taking each day as it came. Instead, he glanced at his kids in the rearview mirror, and envisioned a country that would rise again from the ashes, a tomorrow where his kids would be safe, and a city they could one day call home.

  A Plea

  Thank you for reading Days of Danger: EMP Survival Series Book 3. If you enjoyed the book, I would really appreciate it if you would consider leaving a review. Without reviews, an author’s book
s are virtually invisible on the retail sites. It also lets me know what you liked. It also motivates me to write more books. You can leave a review by visiting the book’s page. I would greatly appreciate it. It only takes a couple of seconds.

  Thank you — Jack Hunt

  Reading Team

  Thank you for buying Days of Danger, published by Direct Response Publishing.

  Click here to receive special offers, bonus content, and news about new Jack Hunt’s books. Sign up for the newsletter.

  About the Author

  Jack Hunt is the best-selling author of horror, sci-fi and post-apocalyptic novels. He currently has three books out in the War Buds series, three books out in the EMP survival series, two books out in the Wild Ones duology, three books in the Camp Zero series, three books out in the Agora Virus series, five books out in the Renegades series, one book out in the The Armada series, a time travel book called Killing Time, a science fiction book called Blackout, another called Darkest Hour, another called Final Impact and another called Mavericks: Hunters Moon. Jack lives on the East coast of North America.

  jackhuntauthor

  www.jackhuntbooks.com

  jhuntauthor@gmail.com