Restoring Order: An EMP Survival Story (EMP Crash Book 7)

by Kip Nelson

  Then it was onto Freddie. He was looking stressed, and Maggie regretted that she hadn't spent much time with him recently. They both had been so busy, although it looked as though he had aged about ten years. His face was sallow and his eyes bloodshot. His hair was unkempt and his attention kept wandering. Maggie asked him mostly the same questions she had asked Saul and Freddie. He gave them a little more insight into the minds of the children.

  “They are traumatized and some of them do harbor hostility toward Peter, but I wouldn't say they would have killed him. I think they wanted an explanation more than anything, and killing him wouldn't have done that. In their eyes, he betrayed them and they don't understand why. I'd say the parents were more likely to do it, given how Peter kidnapped their children and then made them into something that they probably don't recognize.”

  Maggie took his words under advisement, but she still was more than a little frustrated since she and Luis were no closer to finding out who killed Peter than they had been before.

  They spoke to the new arrivals as well as some of the parents. Gary, in particular, reacted with hostility. “You're only coming to us because we're new. I haven't seen you question other people you know this much. We came here under the promise of a new beginning, but I'm wondering if that was all just false pretenses. Are any of us safe here? I'm starting to think we would have been better staying where we were.”

  His reaction instantly put Luis on the defensive and made him suspect Gary. He suggested that Gary could have killed Peter to try causing a schism between the two groups, but Maggie wasn't convinced. She didn't really like Gary all that much, but he was more of a troublemaker than anything else. She didn't think he would go to the length of killing someone just to make a point. No, it was someone else, someone who was eluding her, and the investigation continued.

  Tristan hadn't been able to sleep that well ever since Peter had died. He'd wrestled with a number of conflicting feelings. He knew he shouldn't have been happy that Peter was dead, but he couldn't stop the wave of relief that filled his heart. The world had been rid of one more monster, and to him that wasn't a bad thing. He had stayed away from his mom, knowing that she was investigating the crime. He didn't want to be around that because it reminded him of what life was like before, when she never had any time for him because she was always on a case. But Tristan knew something his mother didn't.

  He knew who did it.

  He marched across town and paid a visit to Sharon, who was on her own. She looked surprised to see Tristan, and wasn't comforted by the dark scowl that seemed permanently etched on his face.

  “I know you did it,” he said bitterly, “but this doesn't change anything. I can see why you thought killing him would change my opinion of you, but it doesn't. I never can trust you again. I won't say anything, but my mom will figure it out soon enough. So, it's just another thing you've done that's been a mistake. Quit while you're ahead and go turn yourself in,” he said.

  As he turned away, he heard her pleas for innocence mixed in with the tears that were streaming down her face. Tristan hardened his heart and closed his ears to her, even as part of him tugged back as he thought of the sad expression on her face.

  Chapter Four

  After Grace had done her duties for the morning, she found herself at a loose end. There were still plenty of things to do, and yet nothing that required her immediate attention. It was times like these when she could almost forget the hectic rush of life. Time seemed to have little meaning anymore as there were an abundance of hours in the day in which she could do anything she wanted. But there was another reason for her restlessness on this particular day. She was filled with anxiety about getting to know Anna.

  When she had been speaking to Luis it had seemed natural, but her mind was playing tricks on her. She was so scared that she and Mack's wife weren't going to get along that Grace wanted to delay the experience for as long as possible. It was completely irrational, and she was aware of this fact, but it didn't stop it from being true. She went to the entrance of New Haven and spoke with the guards, looking out to the rows of cars they had placed to make it more difficult for anyone to enter. She went to the dark patchy grass where the pyre had stood, where people still came to pay their respects to the dead. She wandered all over the settlement, her anxiety growing more and more, until she told herself to stop being silly and just get it over and done with.

  There was no reason why she and Anna shouldn't have gotten along. Since the end of the world, Grace had found herself bonding with a lot of different people, which still shocked her considering how she had spent most of her life alone. And yet, there was a fear that if she and Anna didn't hit it off, her friendship with Mack would dissolve, adding more pressure to the encounter.

  When she couldn't find any more excuses she made her way, slowly, over to where Anna was with her creative group. These people had been meeting regularly ever since Anna had had the idea. The group's size fluctuated depending on the days. Sometimes it seemed as though most of New Haven was in attendance, while other times there were only a few people. Some people only came to watch and be around as the creative energy flowed and people told their stories. On this occasion, Anna and a few others were painting, while another few people seemed to be working on a collaborative story, which Grace was sure would be performed soon. They had no shortage of material. That was for certain.

  Grace kept her distance for a while, just observing the group. She wished she had the opportunity to explore her creativity, but all her ideas had to do with code, and without electronics she was left without an avenue. She often thought about whether there would be a time when electrical devices would work again, but as she looked around New Haven she didn't know if that would be a good thing or a bad thing. The last thing they wanted to do was repeat the mistakes of the previous world. She actually liked belonging to a community of people, rather than distancing herself by creating an online profile.

  Growing ever closer, she heard snippets of the story. She smiled to herself at the arguments they were making to each other, about whether the story was too funny or too tragic. One of them thought people needed a bit of humor to lighten their mood, another said they wanted the story to reflect reality. It made Grace smile because there were so many other things to worry about, yet these two people only were concerned with their story. It was humbling, in a way.

  Anna caught Grace's eye and smiled. Grace returned the gesture after a moment, and knew there was no turning back now. She walked up to Anna and looked at the painting, which was another landscape of New Haven. Anna already had worked on one piece that was hanging in Mack's office, having replaced one stuffy portrait, but this one showed New Haven in a different light. It was bathed in sunshine and it seemed idyllic, like a vision of the future. She wondered if this is the picture Mack had in his head. She felt a little envious that Anna easily could peek into Mack's mind and pluck his thoughts from it when he was often so inscrutable to anyone else.

  “How are you doing?” Anna said, glancing away from her painting momentarily before returning her eyes to the brushstroke she was performing with her hand.

  “I'm okay, just taking a little break,” Grace said. She and Anna had been introduced already, but they never had been on their own, and as such the initial forays into conversation were rather labored.

  “That looks good,” she added. Anna thanked her and, indeed, confirmed that it was a picture of what New Haven could be in the future.

  “I wanted to put down on paper what I think Mack has in his head, and remind people of what we're trying to work toward. He's been finding it difficult lately.”

  “Yeah, and he can get quite cranky when things don't go the way he wants them to,” Grace said.

  The words slipped out of her mouth before she even could think about them, and she hoped she hadn't crossed a boundary. To her relief, Anna laughed and sat back on her stool, letting the brush rest against her leg.

  “That he can. You pro
bably know him almost as well as I do now, given all the time you spent together.”

  “I don't know about that, but yeah, we shared a lot. I assume he told you how we met?”

  “Yeah, you two were the only survivors from the plane crash. I can't imagine what that must have been like.”

  “I only survived because of Mack. He told me to get into position on the plane, and when it was over he helped me learn how to hunt and things. Without him I wouldn't be here today, and I'm not just talking about New Haven. There are a lot of people who can say the same thing.”

  “Kinda funny how things work out, isn't it?” Anna said.

  “We were supposed to be enjoying the quiet life after he retired, but now he has even more responsibility than he did back then. Still, he's enjoying himself, even though he's stressed at the moment.”

  “Yeah, it always surprised me when he used to talk about the quiet life because it never seemed like he was built for that. He always wanted to be moving, accomplishing something. There were other places we could have stayed, safe places, but he wanted to get to the city just in case there was a way of making it back to you. If you hadn't have turned up, we probably would be making plans to leave now, rather than staying here. He was wrestling with the choice because he knew people needed him here, and he didn't want to just abandon them, but he felt guilty for not putting more effort into searching for you.”

  “He did mention something along those lines. So, you would have gone with him rather than stayed here?”

  Grace rolled her bottom lip under her teeth before she answered. “I think so. I promised him a long time ago that I'd follow wherever he went, and as much as I like it here, I think I like life with Mack a lot better. I owed him my life, so the least I could do was make sure he found you again. But we don't have to worry about making that choice anymore.”

  “Yeah, I guess I should say ‘thank you,’ really, for all you did for him.”

  “I think he did more for me to be honest.”

  “No, the way he speaks about you I know you're important to him I'm glad he had someone like you to make it through this, and I'm glad you both made it through together. I had someone as well, someone I trusted, but he wasn't so lucky,” she said.

  As she spoke her face blanched as she went back in her mind to that terrible moment when her friend had been swept away down the river, dashed against the rocks.

  The initial awkwardness was over and there was a lull in conversation. Grace stared at the painting, and idly remarked that she wished she could paint. Anna immediately rose from the stool and forced Grace to sit, then gave her some rudimentary lessons on a fresh sheet of canvas. It was relaxing to put brush to canvas, although Grace was more than a little self-conscious at her basic work compared to Anna's.

  However, Anna seemed to sense this and said, “I remember when I started out I was like that. It just takes practice, and I think we all can use a few hobbies now.”

  Grace thanked her for the lesson and stayed for a while to hear other people tell their stories. She enjoyed hearing them talk about their different experiences, and sometimes it was hard to see where the line between reality and fiction blurred. Although there were some people who she only had spoken to briefly, they had shared things so personal it drew her closer to them. It was then that Grace realized the true value of what Anna was doing.

  Getting people to share stories was a way for them to get to know each other better and bring the community closer together. This provided people a venue where they could share intimate parts of themselves without feeling like they were burdening others with selfish stories. It was also a way for people to unburden themselves and work through emotions that were hard to process, for many of the stories were harrowing accounts. When it was over, Grace and Anna were left alone.

  “Is it always as intense as that?” Grace asked.

  “Sometimes, but not always. It's good for people to get it off their chest. Some of the things that people talk about, though...I tell them they should go talk to Freddie if they want more help. Not everyone wants to do that. There's something more palatable about telling a story to a group of people than there is about talking to a counselor, even though I don't see anything wrong with getting help when you need it.”

  “What do you think about everything that's going on with the murder?”

  “Nothing surprises me anymore, I'm afraid. I don't really agree with it, but from what Mack said there were a lot of people angry with this Peter. Although it's one subject he hasn't told me everything about.”

  “It affected him a lot.”

  “Care to fill me in?”

  “I'm sure you've heard most of it from other people. Mack and Maggie went after the Lost Children because Maggie found out her son was there. Peter captured them and was going to execute them until Tristan helped them escape. Since then, Peter swore an oath to get revenge on Mack. We were out dealing with another group when Peter managed to get into the settlement and took over. We came back, found that he had beat up people, used these children as weapons, locked Hank in a box, and then tried to undo everything Mack had done. It was personal to him. I mean, this city is big enough for most people to live, but Peter wanted to send Mack a message.”

  “It's a shame people waste their lives like that,” Anna said, looking far away.

  “Have you killed anyone?” Grace asked.

  In the old world that question would have been taboo, and would have been met with incredulity. However, now the world was different, and it was a typical question asked by people who were trying to get to know each other better.

  “Haven't we all?” Anna said, with a haunted look in her eyes.

  There didn't seem to be anywhere else for the conversation to go. Night had fallen across New Haven and the temperature had dropped dramatically. Goosebumps had risen on Grace's bare arms and she was looking forward to getting back into the comforting warmth.

  She was glad to have spoken to Anna, but there was something about Anna that made her uneasy. It wasn’t in a way that made Grace suspicious of her, but just something that told her there was more to Anna than what met the eye. She hoped Mack was blinded to it purely due to love. Anna certainly was haunted by something and there were moments when she didn't appear to be in the present moment, like she had been whisked away somewhere new. Grace didn't know what Anna had seen or done in the months following the EMP, but given the nature of the world they couldn’t have been pretty. She felt more content, though, and was glad she had taken the time to speak with Anna.

  She was about to excuse herself when, in the darkness, she saw a figure running toward her, calling out her name. Inwardly she groaned, wondering what was going to happen now. The worst thought plagued her mind, that there had been another killing. She had been afraid of this since Peter had died. What if it wasn't an isolated incident and somebody had gotten the taste for blood? Anger and fear rose up within her as she braced herself for the bad news.

  A man by the name of Lee was in front of her, panting, red-faced and sweating. He wiped his arm across his brow, mopping away the perspiration, but it soon came back again. It was clear from his eyes that something bad had happened. Grace quickly searched her memory and knew he was stationed with the food supplies.

  “What's wrong?” she said, instantly forgetting the chill of the night as an even deeper chill ran down her spine, and made the fine hairs on the back of her neck rise.

  “You've gotta come to the food supplies and see for yourself. It's really bad, it's rats,” he said.

  For a moment, Grace froze as the grim reality of his words focused in her mind. Then she was off, sprinting as fast as she could through New Haven. Lee followed, staggering behind her, already exhausted after having made one journey. Grace's feet pounded against the ground in fear of the food. If they lost that, then morale would drop, and fear for the future would seize New Haven.

  Chapter Five

  Grace's lungs were burning even though the dista
nce to the food supplies was not that great. They weren’t burning from fatigue, but from the fear that everything they had been working toward was going to come crashing down on their heads. Already things were precarious as people were looking over their shoulders, wondering if the person standing near them had killed Peter, or the person who served them breakfast, or the person who smiled at them in a way that didn't seem odd at the time, but now that they thought about it there was something amiss...

  And now the settlement had been invaded again. Not by a hostile force, but by a force of nature, one that was unrelenting and focused on its goal. The rats wanted only one thing, and they would get it, for it was in their nature. This wasn't a choice they made, nor was it a matter of ethics. They couldn't be reasoned with, and peace couldn't be negotiated. They couldn't be intimidated or frightened either. They were of a singular mind, and if any of their brethren were slaughtered, the rest would continue, feeling fortunate that there now was more for them.

  As she ran, Grace thought back to the beginnings of this new world when she barely had been able to keep up with Mack. She had had to take frequent breaks, since her body had ached and screamed after years of physical inactivity. She hadn't realized just how unfit she was until she was forced to test her body, and it had taken her a while to get used to the rigors of the new world. In those early days, sweat had stained her clothes regularly and she was always out of breath. Now she was a lean machine with a tight body and muscles where there were none before, but she would be leaner still if the rats got at the food.

  Lee was in hot pursuit, but because he already had sprinted from the food supplies to find Grace, he was laboring behind. When Grace arrived at the food supplies, there were only a few other people around. Because it had been nighttime there weren't many people there. They hadn't thought they would need anyone other than a guard or two, just to make sure nothing was stolen.