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

by Kip Nelson

  The double doors were wide open and candles were lit inside, illuminating the horrific sight that greeted Grace upon her arrival. Color drained from her face as she stood in the doorway, looking upon the carnage. A swarm of rats was pouring through the food, gnawing at anything they could find. Their black and brown bodies cascaded through the building like a dark, oily sludge, undulating inhumanly, as though they were a single monster risen from hell to plague humanity again.

  Their beady eyes caught the light and gleamed in an unsettling manner. The noise that came from their masticating was like a thousand clicks, all at different pitches and tones, and Grace found it deafening. It was a cacophony of horror. For a moment, all she could do was stand there. It was as though all the misery of the world had found them once again and was pouring over all their hard work, overwhelming them, ruining any sign of progress they had made. It was awful, and in that moment Grace's heart was not filled with anger, she only felt sadness for herself and all the people around here.

  All they were trying to do was live, but there were too many obstacles put in their way. It was a struggle, and the world seemed hell-bent on making sure they never would get back to where they were. Perhaps some of the outlandish theories were right, she thought to herself. Perhaps the EMP wasn't caused by another government, but was something from nature meant to diminish humanity's capacity to ruin the planet. The species had been given dominion over the Earth and had ravaged it. Perhaps it now was nature's turn to wrestle back control and show humanity what it was like to be abused.

  By now the commotion had gathered more attention. Lee hadn't been alone at the food supplies, and the other guard had run off to find more people. They had much the same reaction as Grace, although they were more vocal. They were cursing at the rats, spewing venomous bile at them, but it did no good. The rats went about their business, not caring about the people who were staring at them, not caring that the patrols of New Haven had put their lives on the line to go out into the city and claim this food as their own, not caring about the work talented people had done to grow the fresh fruits and vegetables. None of that mattered anymore, and it was just a reminder of how dark the world was.

  A shot was fired. Grace turned her head. There was a splat as it hit its target and one of the mass was destroyed, although in the dim light Grace couldn't see which rat it was. Not that it mattered, since there were still hundreds, perhaps thousands, of them moving through the food supplies. Another few shots rang out as people were scared and reacted to the threat the only way they knew how, with violence. There were more splats, but also dings and clangs and thuds as the bullets did not always meet their intended targets. Grace had to shout to be heard and she raised her hands.

  “Stop! Don't fire! There are too many of them and we can't afford to waste the bullets. You might shoot the food, too, or each other.”

  No, there was only one way to deal with this, short of burning the food supplies down with all the food in it, and she wasn't prepared to do that. She pulled out her knife and brandished it in her hand.

  “Those of you who don't have knives on you grab as much food as you can and get it out of here. The rest of you are with me. It's hunting season,” she said, gripping the knife tightly as she waded into the ocean of rodents, ignoring their vicious stink.

  Grace stepped forward into the pit that held the stench of these potentially disease-ridden creatures. It was even a risk just to be so near them, for one bite could bring with it any number of bacteria, but they had to take measures to protect the food. Winter was coming, and Grace didn't want that feeling of gloom to pervade the settlement more than it already had. There were high-pitched squeals from the rats as they scurried about, beginning to realize that something was wrong as the people of New Haven, the proud warriors, bent down and slashed at them.

  Grace leaned in and stabbed here and there, poking at will. There were no shortage of targets and her knife found them easily, the sharp blade penetrating the rats’ soft flesh, blood oozing out, sometimes spurting, along with it the life that was contained in the small body. It all happened in a moment, the ending of a life. Yes, just a rat's life, but a life nonetheless.

  While she was lost in the fury of the moment Grace thought back to a time when killing had been something completely anathema to her. In the old world, everything was sanitized. Other people did all the dirty work so you could delude yourself and live an illusion where you didn't have to be responsible or push your conscience to its limits. When this all began, Grace didn't want to hurt anything or anyone, but gradually she had changed. She'd met people who needed to be punished, and met threats that needed to be dealt with, like these rats. She had taken no joy in killing all these animals. However, it was something necessary for New Haven’s survival.

  Her arm began to ache from the constant jabbing motions and as she looked to take a break, wiping the sweat off her brow, she looked around. It didn't seem as though she and her comrades had made any headway at all. The rats still were swarming around the food supplies. Her feet dragged against a mound of lifeless bodies, a sign at least that she was having some impact. The tide had not turned yet, though, and all the while, the rat's teeth were gnashing at the food, spoiling it, feasting on it without thought of the future. They only knew they needed it now.

  The city evidently was barren. It was unlikely they would have come across a place like this recently, so they must have been crazed. However, from the yells of the people around her Grace could tell the rats had become aware of the threat to them and had begun fighting back, biting at feet and ankles. Grace could feel it, too, an unsettling writhing against her ankles. She slashed down, swiping with her knife, tossing a rat to the far side, blood spraying through the air. A guttural yell emanated from her throat, raw and primal, as she surrendered to her savage nature. She wondered how thin the line was being a human and an animal. She was the predator and they were her prey.

  With a moment of respite, she tucked her pants into her shoes, creating a barrier to the rats. She screamed at others to do the same, and those who weren't already preoccupied by the rats followed her orders. However, in the maelstrom, as Grace looked at how her allies were faring, she saw that some of them already had succumbed to the rats. They were reaching to their backs, bending their arms as far as they could go as lumps ran under their clothes, the rats scuttling over their skin. Grace winced as she imagined what their little feet must have felt like, their claws digging into skin. It made her own skin crawl with revulsion and it inspired her to carry on with her duty.

  In a fury, she fell into the pack of rats, screaming as she slashed and sliced, feeling their little bodies crumple under the force of her blade, which soon was dripping with their blood. The dull ache in her arm was ignored. A red haze enveloped her and she was blind to everything else as the rats kept coming, forming a pile, then a mountain at her feet. With every step she squelched, stepping on dead rats and live rats, wanting to protect her food, protect her settlement.

  In some ways, she was like the rats. They just were doing what they needed to survive, to protect themselves, and so was she. And though her determination was more fierce, the rats had the numerical advantage. Though Grace and the others had been stabbing and killing them, there were still so many. It seemed as though they hadn't made any progress at all. There was more of a commotion outside. Grace turned and saw that the rats were escaping into the settlement, going to feast on everything else, everything they had.

  “Close those doors!” Grace yelled. She ran toward them, but it was too late.

  The rats already had escaped and were running amok around the settlement. Grace wanted to go help, but there were still so many in the food supplies. She clenched her jaw and continued stabbing, taking out more of the rats until the breath was driven from her lungs and her muscles were pushed to their limits.

  Outside, the people of New Haven were becoming more aware of the threat. Those who saw the rats quickly drew their knives, while others
used shovels to beat them to death. But the rats were tricky and managed to burrow their way into the buildings, into holes, into the shadows. Even when the people of New Haven thought they all were gone, they couldn't be sure how far the rats had burrowed into the settlement.

  Eventually, it was over. Although it was a while before Grace and the others could tell, since there were so many rats it was difficult to see which ones were dead and which were still alive. Grace looked drained, and staggered outside with a sorrowful look on her face. The night was filled with people who had been roused from their sleep, some even thinking there had been another murder. Indeed, one of the knives that was used to defend New Haven from the rats could have been the same knife that killed Peter.

  When Grace emerged from the food supplies she saw Mack waiting, looking tired. She was quite a sight, face red and flustered, hair clinging to her scalp, rat entrails covering her clothes. The smell was something else as well, and Mack had to stop himself from gagging. Grace had become used to it. Behind her the candles flickered, illuminating the mound of rat corpses. Despite her best efforts, she had not been successful.

  “Most of the food is gone,” she said, her voice croaking, her throat sore from the anguished screaming.

  “We're going to need a full inventory, but it's not looking good. They got everything. We took out all of them in there, at least I think so, but I don't know how many more made it elsewhere. It's a fucking travesty, Mack. There were so many of them, and all that food, just wasted. What are we going to do?”

  She stood with her hands on her hips and could tell Mack was angry. There was always something else that happened, always another obstacle to chip away at their hope. Mack wasn't the only one around who heard her news. The others all looked disheartened as well. Grace nodded with appreciation and respect to the others who were trudging out of the food supplies. They would have to gather up the rats and burn the bodies, but that could be left to someone else. Grace was done for the evening. She'd been through an ordeal and wanted to get the grime off her. It would take more than a hearty scrub to clean away the rats’ guts and blood. The clothes she wore would have to be burned, too. Another day was going to dawn in New Haven, and they would have to start gathering food again, would have to steel themselves for another setback, because these rats weren't going to be the last. They had to fight for every day they lived, and Grace knew their fight wasn't over.

  Chapter Six

  For a long time, they had had hope in their hearts, but now despair was the prevailing mood in New Haven. The day following the attack by the rats was misty, and the bleak weather only accentuated the feelings in their hearts. A gloom had set upon them and everything was lethargic and solemn. Not only were they scared because a murderer was in their midst, but now they realized they were in even more danger. They had spent so long being worried about the threats of other humans they had forgotten about the natural world. They had been reminded in such a devastating way.

  They moved slowly, feeling a lack of motivation because everything seemed futile. What was the point in doing anything if it only was going to get destroyed? The horrors of the world came back to them in full force. Sometimes it was easy to forget that the world had ended while they were with each other, enjoying feasts, putting their hands and minds to work to keep them occupied. They could look around at New Haven and all they were building and feel proud, but on that day, everyone's heart was heavy, not the least Mack's.

  After seeing Grace, he had gone to inspect the food supplies himself. The others who had helped fight off the rats were in a similar state to Grace; tired and covered in disgusting material. They swiftly made their exits to try cleaning themselves up. Mack and a few others helped gather up the rats and cast them into a fire. It wasn't as big as the pyre they had built to dispose of the bodies after the big battle, but it reminded Mack that little separated them from the animals. They all would die eventually, even him. The only thing that mattered now was how they lived in between that moment when their eyes first met the light, and then the last time they closed.

  Each step was heavy and that day was a day when he wondered if it all had been worth it; if it was worth struggling against everything to try dragging humanity up from its knees back to where it could stand tall and proud. It was a day in which everyone in New Haven had to look inside themselves and find that spark of inspiration that had brought them all together, the spark that Mack was struggling to see. He'd given so much to get to this place. Sometimes he wondered how much more he was willing to give, how much more was inside him. Would there ever come a day when he would turn his back on New Haven and slip out into the world, find a small corner of it for him and Anna and live out their days without having to worry about everything that plagued New Haven?

  All he wanted to do was sleep, and perhaps even enjoy a sweet dream that could prove a tonic to the melancholy he was feeling. He tried not to look at the food supplies. A proper inventory of them would not be taken until the morning after. He was depressed enough already without knowing how far their food supplies had been depleted.

  He returned to his apartment to try getting a few hours rest before the new day began and new challenges emerged, but as he lay his head against the pillow his mind was alive and he could not rest. Anna had been disturbed by what had happened outside, and she stayed awake with her husband.

  “What was it?” she asked, relieved to see him return without any wounds, although from the way he was standing and the way the shadows cloaked his body she could tell something had happened.

  “Rats got into the food,” he said, sparing no extra energy for words as he climbed into bed and pulled the sheets over him.

  “How much?”

  “Don't know yet. Will have to find out in the morning. Grace was there, she led the charge against them. Some of the rats got into the settlement, though. Think we got them all, but there's no way to be sure.”

  “I spoke with her today. She seems quite capable.”

  “She is. This place wouldn't be the same without her, but I don't even know what this place is anymore. How are we supposed to build a future for ourselves when things like these keep happening? I try to believe, and try to inspire others to believe, but I don't blame them if they think it's hopeless. If it's not someone else trying to kill us, then it’s rats, and who knows what else is next? We try and we try to give it everything we have, but what if that isn't enough? What if we're fighting a losing battle?”

  “So what if we are?” Anna said, shifting her position to look directly in his eyes.

  “Isn't the whole point of life that we fight? That we have the strength to keep going even when everything seems hopeless? To dream the impossible dream?”

  “To fight the unbeatable foe. To bear with unbearable sorrow. To run where the brave dare not go. This is my quest, to follow that star, no matter how hopeless, no matter how far. To fight for the right without question or pause, to be willing to march into hell for a heavenly cause,” Mack said, quoting the lyrics to one of his favorite songs.

  It was one of the songs that had defined him ever since he first had heard it, as though it had been written for him. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Anna placed her hand on his chest and felt the soft rise and fall as he tried to calm himself.

  “I know you're right, but it doesn't make it any easier to deal with.”

  “That's why you have me, and Grace, and everyone else here. That's part of what you're trying to build, isn't it? We're stronger together. I've been on my own out there, but already I'm feeling it. I see it in the people who tell me their stories. Stories filled with heartbreak and loneliness and the sense that nothing was ever going to get better until they started working with other people, started to believe in each other, and then themselves. That's what's important. I know this is a setback, and you feel crappy right now, but it's just a setback, that's all.”

  “It's a hell of a setback, though. It's not going to be easy to replace all that food.
And it's so hard because I know I must be strong for everyone else. But I look in their eyes and I see the same sense of despair that I feel inside. How can I inspire them if I'm not feeling it at all?”

  “No, it isn't, but it wasn't easy to get all these people working together. It wasn't easy to build this place. Hell, it wasn't easy to get to the city in the first place, and it wasn't easy to find each other again, but we did all those things and we can do so much more.” She had taken his hand and gripped it tightly, linking her fingers in with his.

  “We're in this together, Mack, not just me and you, but all of us. But as for me and you, we're here to support each other. So, if you need to rant and rave and be moody, then you can be. But out there you're their leader and you need to be whatever the hell they need you to be. That's what being a leader is about, and you're the best one there is.”

  Mack looked over at his wife and instead of saying anything he gave her a kiss, which said more than words. Then he wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly as he tried to get some sleep.

  Waking in the gloom he ventured out into the bleak day to find that Hank was busy with Mindy and others taking stock of everything the rats had damaged. Grace was nowhere to be seen, which was understandable. Mack hoped she had managed to get some rest after everything she had done the previous night. From the look on Hank's face Mack knew it wasn't good news.

  “We're going to have to throw most of it away,” Hank said.

  Mack had to put a lot of effort into not showing how frustrated he was, because Anna's words rang in his head. If he let his head drop, then it would be harder for everyone else to keep working and keep moving. There were some people who had been out on the patrols, ones who had gathered much of the food supplies, and they were looking even more disheartened. It was their efforts that had been undermined by the invading rodents. Mack felt great sympathy for them. There were patrols out in the city, but there was no guarantee they would find more food. The city was like a graveyard now, and most of the food had come from the territory of the Lost Children. All that food, ruined because of rats.