Turning Point: A Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction Series (The Blackout Series Book 3)

by Bobby Akart

  “I found a Bible,” said Madison, who turned the first few pages to see if it bore a family’s name. Traditionally, the family Bible was handed down from generation to generation, recording information such as births, baptisms, marriages, and deaths.

  “It belongs to the Johnsons,” she announced. “I wonder if they built this old church for their families and their neighbors?”

  Madison handed the Bible to Colton, who began to thumb his way through until he found 2 Corinthians. He took Madison’s hand and they sat in the front row together, where Alex joined them.

  “In Corinthians, the apostle Paul wrote about the many trials and persecutions he had endured,” started Colton. “He wrote we’re troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.”

  Colton carefully closed the Johnson family Bible, then took the hands of his wife and daughter and held them on top of it.

  “Let’s pray. Dear Lord, thank you for my life and family. We thank you for the divine protection you’ve given us, your children, who walk this Earth in faith. We choose to focus on your great love for us and your protection of our family rather than give a place in our souls to fear of those who would do us harm.

  “We declare, according to the scriptures, that the wicked who walk among us cannot touch us. We pray that you continue to guard us, guide us, and wrap your blanket of protection around us as we persist on our journey. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.”

  “Amen.”

  Chapter 10

  DAY FIFTEEN

  3:40 p.m., September 23

  Natchez Trace Parkway

  Near White Oak, Tennessee

  Alex studied the map and scanned both sides of the road for landmarks. She found that navigating their way was easier using the old-fashioned methods rather than relying on her GPS. This allowed Alex to keep up with small cross streets, and simple observations enabled her to spot gravel roads that approached the Trace.

  When they left the church, she’d set the Goal Zero folding solar panel on the dashboard of the Wagoneer, with her iPhone attached. The afternoon sun was providing it a solid recharge, which seemed to take just over an hour. She hoped to listen to some more music later ’cause it took her mind off things.

  “Slow down up ahead, Mom,” said Alex as she laid the map in her lap and picked up the binoculars. Alex looked toward the overpass ahead, using just her left eye. She rotated the center focus ring slightly until the bridge abutment became less blurry. Then she did the same with her right eye, using the adjustment ring on that lens. The bridge was crystal clear now. “This afternoon sun is getting brutal. It almost hurts my eyes to look through the lenses.”

  “How’s it look?” asked Madison, glancing into the backseat to check on a sleeping Colton.

  Alex didn’t answer for a moment as she scanned the cross street identified on the map as Leatherhood Road. She didn’t see any indication of activity.

  “I think we’re good,” she replied after a minute. “Mom, this is gonna take forever. We’ve still got eighty miles to go.”

  “Well, think of it as being halfway home,” said Madison as she started to roll the truck forward. Colton had warned her to take it easy on the gas as well.

  “Or halfway away from home is more like it,” said Alex, who folded her arms and stared out into the desolate woods.

  Madison continued to drive and Alex finally picked up the map to look for the next potential road crossing. She felt guilty for what she’d said. After a minute or two of silence, she spoke up.

  “Mom, have you thought about turning around and going back? I mean, at least at home we kinda knew what to expect.”

  “Of course, honey,” replied Madison, who checked her mirrors again. “I’ve run the options through my mind repeatedly.”

  “You mean, in between getting chased and shot at,” interrupted Alex.

  “Yeah, then too.” Madison laughed. “I admit that this morning was much more than I expected. I envisioned a roadblock here and there, maybe people walking in the road, like those two. A gunfight was possible, but not expected.”

  Madison hugged the left shoulder of the road to give the travelers a wide berth. A man and woman in their forties shuffled down the road, carrying backpacks and Whole Foods grocery bags in each hand. Their clothes hung on them like a sheet draped over an old chair.

  “You’re right,” said Alex as she stared at the couple in her mirror until they were out of sight. “I guess it could be worse.”

  Madison continued driving while Alex reassumed her role as navigator. She checked the charge on her iPhone and, satisfied it was ready, disconnected it from the solar panel. The Goal Zero was designed to fold up and store in a backpack, or under the bench seat of a 1969 Jeep Wagoneer after TEOTWAWKI.

  “What are you thinking, Alex?”

  “I don’t know. Honestly, it’s the first time I’ve had a chance to think since we left home.”

  “Contemplate.”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re contemplating, you know, like contemplating life,” replied Madison.

  “Yeah, I guess I am. I mean, whadya think life is gonna be like now?”

  Madison took a deep breath before answering. “Well, I kinda look at it from the perspective of short term versus long term. Short-short term is from here to Shiloh—the next seventy miles or so.”

  “I believe it will be better than the first half of our trip, don’t you? I mean, we’re farther away from the city.”

  “I agree,” replied Madison. “It couldn’t get any worse, right?”

  Alex held the map up and glanced over it toward the road ahead. She then traced her finger along the route on the map. She grabbed the binoculars and gave her mom instructions.

  “Up here, Mom, around this sharp curve that turns left. Ease up until you see the long straightaway.”

  Madison did as instructed, and once the nose of the Wagoneer created a clear line of sight for Alex, she stopped.

  “There’s a man on a horse about half a mile down the road. It looks like he has several dogs with him. Hang on.”

  Madison studied the map while Alex observed the horseback rider. His dogs were barking and excited, and then they took off into a field with the man in hot pursuit. They were hunting something.

  “Okay, Mom. He’s gone.”

  Madison continued driving and picked up the conversation. “It’s hard to talk about the long-term predictions of what our lives will be like because we don’t know how long it’ll take the government to get the power back on. For one thing, we don’t know how widespread this problem is. Do you think the solar storm affected the entire planet?”

  “I hope not,” replied Alex. “If it did, who would be able to fix things? Think about it. What if Europe, Russia, China and Japan have all lost power? There isn’t anybody left.”

  “That’s part of what I mean. You can’t really think long term until you know all the facts. It may be some time before communications and power are restored.”

  “What if it takes years?” asked Alex.

  “That’s where the short-term scenario comes in—survival.”

  Alex leaned back in her seat and chuckled. “I have no problem surviving. The solar storm doesn’t scare me. The prospect of growing or hunting food almost sounds like fun. What scares me is people. The only people you can trust is your family.”

  “I guess I have to agree,” said Madison. “I think people, when given a choice, tend to stick together with like-minded people. Think about it, who wants to hang out with someone that constantly disagrees with you or who doesn’t share the same values or interests?”

  “Exactly,” replied Alex. “Our neighbors had their own selfish interests. Then there was that gang who wanted to take advantage of the situation. Today, we were chased by a mob who wanted to take our things. Even the National Guard was setting up roadblocks to confiscate everything for the government.”


  Alex opened up the glove box and retrieved a brown-sugar cinnamon Pop-Tart out of an open foil pack. She broke it in half and offered it to her mom. The girls took a moment to enjoy the sweet snack.

  “Listen, there are ordinary people out here that make up what I consider to be civilization,” said Madison as they passed another man on a horse, sitting quietly in the middle of a field. “Like that guy. People come in all shapes and sizes, but we’ve learned they’ll do unpredictable, unspeakable things during a crisis. Our country has never experienced a prolonged catastrophic event like this. There have been regional disasters like earthquakes, storms and wildfires, but nothing has challenged America like the collapse of the grid.”

  Alex pondered this for a moment as she tried to recount the events of the last two weeks. She could count on one hand the number of civilized people she’d encountered.

  Madison continued. “Think about before the collapse. When we were running errands or you were playing golf, we’d see young people walking to and from school, elderly people shuffling down the sidewalk to the mailbox, construction workers tearing up the streets, et cetera. All of these people have dealt with the collapse differently, but I believe they have several reactions in common.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, for starters,” replied Madison. “Just like us, they were confused and afraid. Some were in denial and many became angry. One thing they all share is a sense of desperation.”

  Alex continued to follow their route on the map. She applied her mom’s advice to what she’d seen and experienced so far.

  “Okay, I can agree with that,” said Alex. “Here’s what I think. Never underestimate desperate people. You never know how far they’ll go to take what you have. With that said, who can we trust?”

  “Trust no one.”

  Chapter 11

  DAY FIFTEEN

  4:30 p.m., September 23

  Natchez Trace Parkway

  Near Fly Hollow, Tennessee

  “Mom,” said Alex, pointing down the highway to a stalled car with the hood raised. Madison slowed the truck as they exited the woods and entered the long stretch of farmland. She glanced around but didn’t see anyone else.

  “I see it,” said Madison. “It looks like two cars. Is it a wreck?”

  Alex examined the accident scene through the binoculars. One of the vehicles had its hood raised and was parked with its front bumper against the grill of the other car. She couldn’t make out how bad the damage was, but they appeared to be right up against each other.

  “Hey, there’s a body up there,” exclaimed Alex. She leaned forward in her seat unconsciously, attempting to get a closer look. A young woman was sprawled out on the pavement, wearing shorts and a white T-shirt, covered in blood. On the asphalt next to her was a towel near her outstretched arm. “It is! Mom, it’s a woman and she has blood all over her shirt. She’s lying on the road next to the car with the driver’s door open.”

  “Do you see anybody else?” asked Madison as she continued to allow the truck to slowly roll forward.

  Alex looked again. “Yes, there’s another woman slumped over the steering wheel of the car with the hood raised. I can barely make her out, but her long hair is blowing in the wind.”

  “Wake your dad,” said Madison.

  “Mom, the woman on the ground is waving for help. She’s bleeding. We’ve got to do something!”

  “Okay, wake up, Colton.” Madison continued to inch forward and was now a hundred yards away, allowing her to see the scene clearly. There were some fluids spilled around both of the engines. The woman on the ground was trying to lift herself off the ground to get their attention.

  “What’s going on?” asked a groggy Colton as he rose up in the backseat.

  Suddenly, smoke began to pour out of the car with the hood raised. It billowed out of the rear windows on both sides, making it difficult to see as the winds carried it across the road.

  “There’s a wreck up ahead blocking the highway,” said Alex. “There are two women hurt. One is bleeding and the other one must be unconscious or dead.”

  “Let me see,” said Colton as he propped his arms on the back of the bench seat. He reached for the binoculars. “I don’t know about this, guys.”

  Madison was still slowly creeping forward, yard by yard. Smoke was pouring out of the car on the left and she thought the driver moved.

  “Did you see that? The woman driving the other car. I think her head moved. Colton, her car might be catching on fire!”

  They were now fifty yards away. “Maddie, stop!” yelled Colton, prompting Madison to ease to a halt. “Stop now! There’s something wrong. These cars—these cars are too new. They wouldn’t be running to—”

  The rear passenger door flung open and a man reached into the truck and grabbed Colton’s arm. Another man appeared at Madison’s window and reached for the steering wheel.

  “Get off me,” yelled Colton.

  “We’re surrounded!” yelled Alex as another man began reaching for her door lock.

  “Leave us alone!” yelled Madison. Madison mashed the gas pedal, but the engine just revved. She tried it again as the man groped for the door handle and the steering wheel.

  “Get out of here!” yelled Colton, who was on his back, kicking at the man who’d climbed part of the way into the backseat. The man stank and his long stringy hair dripped sweat on Colton.

  “Goooo!” hollered Colton. Madison, while forcing the gas pedal to the floorboard, realized the man had pulled the gear shift into neutral. She forced it into drive and the truck surged forward, leaving her assailant tumbling to the asphalt.

  The man, whose crazed eyes darted all around the back of the truck, continued to grab at Colton until he caught sight of the AR-15. Shifting his focus, the man now sought the Rymans’ best weapon.

  Madison jammed on the brakes, throwing him off balance. This enabled Colton to kick his attacker in the throat.

  “ARRRGGGGHHHH.”

  The throaty groan indicated the man couldn’t breathe. Colton kicked him again, this time in the chest, which sent him back through the window and tumbling onto the gravel shoulder of the road. He rolled down the embankment into a field, clutching his throat.

  The other two men caught up to the truck again. They were attempting to grab the generator and gas cans. This time, Madison threw the truck in reverse, running over one of the men’s legs with a thump and noticeable crunch, causing him to scream in agony.

  “Mom, watch out!” screamed Alex as one of the women jumped on the hood of the truck and swung a tire iron onto the roof of the Wagoneer with a thud.

  Just as the woman was about to take another swing toward the windshield, Madison sent the truck forward, throwing the woman off balance. She dropped the tire iron and held onto the windshield wipers to avoid falling off.

  Madison gained speed to nearly forty miles an hour and then jammed on the brakes, throwing Colton and Alex forward and the crazed woman off the hood. The woman flew off the truck, still clutching the wiper blades, which she’d ripped from the Wagoneer, and cracked her skull as she rolled over and over on the pavement, leaving a trail of blood from her head.

  Their pursuers were relentless. The other woman began grabbing at Alex through the window. Alex pushed off the door and tried to kick at the woman.

  “Get off my daughter!” screamed Madison, who started forward again, hoping the momentum of the truck would cause the woman to fall. With her focus on Alex’s attacker, Madison didn’t notice the body of the dying woman on the road and unexpectedly ran over her.

  The pronounced bump threw all of the Rymans up in their seats, causing them to hit the roof of the Wagoneer. It also caused Alex’s assailant to lose her grip and fall to the ground with her legs pinned under the right rear tire. This bump was not as severe, but caused sufficient damage in the form of two broken legs to Alex’s attacker, bringing an end to the threat.

  Madison gripped the wheel and didn’t stop as she drove th
e Wagoneer on the shoulder around the staged wreck. It was several miles before any of them breathed.

  Madison gritted her teeth. She was mad. She’d just killed someone. For no reason! Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!

  She finally relaxed and let out the air that filled her lungs. She had to remind herself that the bumps in the road were meant to slow them down, but not stop them completely. She continued to drive until she was alone again with her family.

  Chapter 12

  DAY FIFTEEN

  5:45 p.m., September 23

  Natchez Trace Parkway at I-840

  Near Fly Hollow, Tennessee

  Colton finally convinced Madison to pull over. He thought she might be in shock after what had happened. He opened the door for her and helped her out. Then he simply held her tight in the warm setting sun and allowed her to cry for as long as she wanted.

  Assault, in the pre-collapse world, could include pushing, slapping, punching, and other forms of bullying. People used all sorts of weapons, both physical like knives, sticks, or rocks, and nonphysical, like words. The old adage that sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me held true in some respects, although the use of words to assault another had gained traction in the world of social media and the Internet.

  Post-collapse, assaults were taken to the highest levels of human depravity. The taking of another man’s life became normal and, in some cases, accepted behavior. Physically attacking another was now considered a part of survival rather than an illegal act.

  Without rule of law, in a post-TEOTWAWKI society, physical assaults were punished with like-kind means—an eye for an eye. Most people didn’t know that the origin of the concept of lex talionis—the law of retaliation—dated back to the earliest civilizations and meant a retaliation authorized by law in which the punishment corresponds in kind.