EMP Post-Apocalyptic Survival | Book 1 | Shelter In Place

by Hunt, James

  Kurt struggled to comprehend the urgency of the situation. “All of this for a power outage?”

  “It’s not a power outage,” Ben answered. “It’s something much worse. Now, go.” Ben stepped around Kurt, leaving him in the road, but Kurt again jogged to catch up to him.

  “Where are you going?” Kurt asked, noticing the rifle for the first time.

  “I’m getting my boys from their uncle’s apartment,” Jim answered. “And, I need to move quickly.”

  “Why are you bringing your gun?” Kurt asked. “Jesus, are we under attack or something?”

  Ben wasn’t sure, but he knew the longer it took him to get into the city and get his boy, the faster his window would close to bring them back without incident. “Maybe.”

  Kurt slowed as he processed the news, but he recovered quickly and caught up with Ben. “I’ll come with you.”

  Ben held up his hand. “It’s better if I go alone.”

  “Oh, because you have eyes in the back of your head?”

  Ben stopped, turning to face Kurt, who realized the comment was out of line.

  “Sorry, Lieutenant,” Kurt said. “But if you think things are bad enough to bring…” He gestured to the weapons and backpack. “All of this, then it might not hurt to have someone watching your back. Right?”

  Ben knew Kurt had a point. And the pair had gone hunting, so they were already comfortable handling a firearm and working together. Plus, Kurt was a good shot. But he lacked the tactical training Ben had gone through.

  For the past three years, Ben spent one weekend every three months at a training facility where former military personal taught combat skills to civilians. The training was thorough and covered everything from urban assault to defensive countermeasures in open combat. While Ben had never been in a real combat situation before, he felt better prepared for whatever threats lay ahead.

  But Kurt had no such training.

  “Kurt, I don’t think—”

  “You always said you wouldn’t hire anyone at the fire department that you wouldn’t trust with your life,” Kurt said. “Let me help you. I can help.”

  Ben considered it and then nodded. “Grab your rifle, but hurry. And don’t forget to tell Susan to head up to the house.”

  “On it.” Kurt sprinted ahead of Ben and back to his house.

  Ben wondered if he had made a mistake, but quickly dismissed the thought. He had made a decision, and he needed to move forward. No sense in second-guessing himself now.

  By the time Ben reached Kurt’s house, Kurt was already out front with his hunting rifle and vest, where he carried his additional ammunition.

  “Did you tell Susan?” Ben asked.

  “She’s packing up what we have, and then she’s going to head up there,” Kurt answered excitedly. “Where in the city are your boys?”

  “Downtown,” Ben answered. “The parents of the friend they were staying the night live in one of the new apartment buildings. You know those half-living, half-retail spaces?”

  “Oh, yeah, right,” Kurt answered.

  Just before Ben reached the end of the road, he veered a hard right into the woods, and it caused Kurt to stop.

  “Where are you going?” Kurt asked.

  Ben turned around. “We want to make ourselves scarce and avoid large groups of people if we can.”

  Kurt jogged over to Ben, and the pair entered the forest. “You think people are going to go crazy on us or something?”

  “Or something,” Ben muttered. “You cram a bunch of people into a stressful situation and things are bound to turn ugly sooner or later.”

  “Sounds like Thanksgiving with my in-laws,” Kurt said, trying his best to keep up. “So if this isn’t a power outage, then what happened?”

  “It’s called an E-M-P,” Ben answered, keeping his rifle at the ready and his eyes peeled for anything unusual. “It stands for electromagnetic pulse. It will fry anything with a computer chip, and just about everything runs on computer chips these days. Utilities, vehicles, communication devices, there isn’t a single aspect of our lives that aren’t affected by computers. It’s how our country has become so efficient.”

  Kurt was quiet as he processed the information. “So…how long is it going to last?”

  Ben stopped walking, his boots crunching on a twig as he turned to Kurt.

  Kurt waited for a reply, arching his eyebrows. “A couple of weeks? Months?”

  The truth was no one knew how long something like this would last. But Ben did know it would depend on the EMP’s range, and how widespread its effects. He held onto the hope that it was only localized, but his gut was leaning in the opposite direction.

  “Ben?” Kurt asked. “How long?”

  “I don’t know,” Ben answered. “But we need to keep moving.”

  Ben kept to the woods but maintained a line of sight on state road twenty-five, which he used to head south into Asheville. Along the way, they saw hundreds of motorists stranded on the road, and Ben heard the slow murmur of despair rise from the crowds.

  People were already growing restless, and it had been less than an hour. But when you’re stranded with no water, no food, no transportation, and no communications in a world where everything is available at the press of a button… It doesn’t take much force to shatter a glass house.

  Near the halfway point into Ashville, Ben and Kurt had fallen into a nice rhythm. Both men were in good shape from the fire department, and the added weight of the backpack paled in comparison to the weight of their fire gear whenever they had to go on a call.

  Kurt cleared his throat. “So, what happens—"

  An explosion caused Ben and Kurt to freeze. The sound echoed off of the mountainsides, making it difficult to determine the explosion’s location, but it sounded far off.

  “What the hell was that?” Kurt asked.

  Ben moved closer to the road, searching the sky for any signs of smoke, though it was difficult in the darkness.

  Kurt appeared by his side. “I think it was the power station. Look.” He pointed south, past the city, and to the other side of Asheville.

  Ben followed the line of sight and saw the plumes of dark smoke rising from the section. “I think you’re right.”

  “Do you think they were trying to get the power back on?” Kurt asked.

  Ben doubted the workers at the powerplant would be able to do anything. EMPs weren’t common knowledge when it came to local preparedness plans.

  “If that fire catches in the woods, we might have a problem,” Ben said, feeling the northbound wind through the trees. “We need to keep moving.”

  Ben remained alert for any more explosions, but aside from the growing restlessness from the stranded motorists, it remained quiet.

  Still, something about the explosion bothered Ben, and he couldn’t put his finger on why. It continued to consume his thoughts until they arrived at Asheville’s city limits.

  Unable to keep to the woods any longer, Ben and Kurt emerged from the trees and moved quickly down to the side of the road.

  “Keep a low profile,” Ben said, moving briskly and keeping his voice low. “The less attention we draw to ourselves, the better off we’ll be. Trust me.”

  Kurt kept his head on a swivel. “What do we do if someone tries to come after us?”

  Ben cast Kurt a heavy dose of side-eye. “We didn’t bring the rifles for show.”

  Kurt nodded. “Right.”

  Ben felt the stares from everyone as he passed them on the shoulder of the road, but he kept his eyes forward, knowing the only thing that mattered was getting to his boys.

  Still, it was difficult not to stare at the confused civilians. They passed hurried whispers between themselves, a few groups beginning to shout at one another from the stress of the situation.

  But people had no idea how bad it would get in the next few days. When people realized the power wasn’t coming back on, when the food in their fridges and freezers spoiled, when they couldn’t
get the medication they needed to survive, that’s when the other shoe would drop.

  For now, however, society resigned itself to silent grumbles and worried expressions.

  Drenched in sweat from the long hike, Ben never broke his stride as the buildings around him grew taller and he moved deeper into the city. He did his best to avoid the crowds, but it was a Friday night. People were out.

  And with the power down, everyone had moved from the restaurants and bars to the sidewalks outside. People held up their blank phone screens to get a signal that wasn’t coming their way.

  The growing crowds slowed Ben and Kurt’s pace. Ben turned around to Kurt. “We’ll head straight across the park up ahead. Hopefully, there will be some room.”

  “Okay,” Kurt said.

  The crowds were making Ben nervous. It wouldn’t take much to light the fuse that would ignite everyone into a frenzy.

  Ben had run on more than his fair of emergencies and saw how people lost their minds in times of crisis.

  All it took for him to become a prepper was to realize that one event could have a ripple effect and create an emergency for the entire country. It would overwhelm the infrastructure. It would bring the system to its knees.

  Left to their own devices, people weren’t prepared to take care of themselves. No one knew how to hunt, to prepare food, to grow things. All people did now was consume. And Ben didn’t want to be near all of those hungry mouths when they realized their next meal wasn’t going to be delivered.

  Ben finally reached the park between the high rises and was glad for the space. There were still a lot of people, but it wasn’t as crowded as the streets.

  “We can cut through there,” Ben said, pointing ahead between a restaurant and a small clothes boutique that was closed. “That alley will take us to the next street.”

  “How do you know that?” Kurt asked.

  “I’ve lived here my whole life, Kurt,” Ben answered. “I know this area like the back of my hand—”

  A woman’s scream erupted to their right, and it caused both Kurt and Ben to stop.

  The woman hunched over a man lying on the ground, motionless. It was hard to see what was happening because it was so dark, but the people near them stepped back as the woman remained bent over the man, screaming incoherently.

  Kurt looked to Ben, taking a step toward the woman and the man. “We need to help them—”

  Before Kurt’s foot hit the ground on his next step, Ben watched as blood spurt from Kurt’s leg and he dropped to the ground.

  Kurt groaned, reaching for his leg, but Ben dropped to help.

  “Keep pressure on it!” Ben shouted and forced Kurt’s hands over the wound. Ben reached around to his pack for bandages and then glanced around.

  “Wh-what h-happened?” Kurt’s voice trembled, his leg shaking.

  “Bullet wound,” Ben answered, and then applied the bandage. He glanced around. He didn’t hear a gunshot. And he didn’t know where it came from.

  Another man approached Ben and Kurt, kneeling by Ben’s side. “I’m a doctor, is he—”

  The bullet sliced through the man’s skull, and a spray of blood misted Ben’s face as the doctor dropped to the ground next to Kurt, dead.

  After that, the small park broke into a frenzy, and Ben watched as more bullets rained down.

  3

  Ben lost track of the number of people he watched collapse in the streets. The moment the shooting started, he grabbed Kurt and fireman carried him out of the park. Bodies collided into one another, and screams punctuated the chaos as everyone scrambled for cover. All sense of order and reason vanished, and people reverted to the most basic instincts of survival.

  Ben moved to the nearest building, shoving himself and Kurt as close to the wall as he could. He watched the surrounding rooftops, searching for the shooter’s station. But the number of casualties dropping to the ground made it difficult to concentrate.

  When the park finally cleared, Ben counted dozens of bodies that lay still. And now that the screams had ended, there was a slight ringing in Ben’s ear from the silence.

  “Ben,” Kurt said, clenching his teeth. “My leg.”

  Ben returned his focus to his friend and finished the tourniquet on his leg. Kurt had already lost a lot of blood; it soaked his pant leg.

  Keeping one eye on the rooftops, Ben reached for his bag again and removed some clotting powder from the first aid kit. He ripped open the bag and then paused before he poured it over the wound. “This is going to sting,” Ben said.

  Ben dumped the powder and Kurt groaned and stiffened. “Jesus Christ!” Kurt drew in deep breaths, his entire body convulsing from the pain.

  “Just breathe,” Ben said, sealing the bag and placing the remaining powder in his pack. “You need to breathe, Kurt.”

  Kurt slowed his breathing, falling into a steady rhythm. “Is the bullet still in my leg?”

  Ben figured it would be judging from the positioning of the wound, but he needed to be sure. “I need to check for an exit wound. This will also hurt.” Ben carefully rolled his friend to his side and worked his fingers around the back of Kurt’s leg.

  Kurt winced and barred his teeth, but as Ben felt along the backside of the leg, he felt nothing. He shook his head.

  “No exit wound,” Ben said.

  “I don’t feel good,” Kurt said.

  Drenched in sweat, Kurt began to shake, and Ben knew he was starting to go into shock. But Ben also knew that the hospital was farther than he could carry his friend. Plus, there was still the sniper to deal with.

  Ben grabbed Kurt’s hand and squeezed hard until Kurt matched his effort. “I need you to hang on, all right? I just need to figure out where the sniper’s location.”

  “Sniper?” Kurt asked. “Why the hell is there a sniper in downtown Asheville?”

  “Probably the same reason why an EMP was detonated,” Ben answered. He reached for his rifle, keeping close to the wall, and worked his way up to the corner so he had a better view of the park.

  The darkness added a layer of difficulty, but with the aid of the scope, Ben scanned the surrounding rooftops. He saw no movement.

  Whispers from Ben’s left distracted him, and he turned to see a man out from the cover of a restaurant. A woman was behind him, reaching for his arm, angrily whispering for him to get back inside.

  The man didn’t listen. He stepped out from beneath the canopy of the restaurant where they had retreated during the shooting. He looked around, moving slowly and carefully, like a newborn deer.

  A bullet to the head dropped the man to the pavement, and his death triggered a scream from the woman by the restaurant door. Her voice pierced the night air, and the other patrons tried to stop her from sprinting after the man, but they failed.

  Crying, the woman hurried to her man, but she never made it. A bullet to her chest knocked her backward onto the ground, where she convulsed for a few seconds and then lay completely still.

  Ben raised his head and then placed his eye to the scope again. The fresh kills helped narrow down the area where Ben believed the sniper was hiding, and after a methodical search to the northwest, Ben caught sight of a flicker of metal on the rooftop of a five-story building.

  It was the sniper. With the location confirmed, Ben retreated to Kurt.

  “I found him,” Ben said, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and tucking an extra magazine into his pocket.

  Kurt remained motionless; the color drained from his face. “That’s good.” His voice was weak, and Ben quickly checked his pulse. His heartbeat was slow and irregular; Ben needed to move quickly.

  “Kurt, listen to me,” Ben said, making sure his friend had his eyes locked onto him. “I need you to stay awake while I’m gone, okay? You can’t go to sleep.”

  Kurt blinked slowly, unable to focus on anything, but he nodded. “Stay awake. Got it.” His speech was slow and slightly slurred.

  Ben checked the tourniquet one more time and then moved i
nto position. He estimated fifty yards of open space separated him from the sniper. If he sprinted, he might be able to make it, but considering the skill of the shooter, Ben couldn’t be certain he would survive the run.

  He glanced around the edges of the buildings, looking for any section that could provide him cover on his approach. He found over hangings to his left, but there were still twenty yards of open space where he would remain exposed to the shooter.

  Ben tried mapping out a different route, but he knew it was futile. And the longer he spent figuring out what to do next, the closer Kurt inched to death. He needed to move, and he needed to do it now.

  Ben drew in a quick breath and then poised himself for the sprint. He focused on his destination, erasing everything else from his mind, and then he ran.

  Ben pounded the pavement, pumping his arms and legs, his strides quick, and his heels striking the pavement hard. He didn’t dare break his concentration on his destination ahead, afraid he would stumble and fall.

  Heart hammering in his chest, Ben crossed the threshold and skidded to a stop under cover of the awning, then disappeared into the building.

  Ben’s chest heaved up and down as he caught his breath. Sweat rolled down his face, dripping onto the floor. He wasn’t sure if the sniper had managed to get a shot off since the others had been silent. Ben figured the shooter was using a suppressor to help mask the noise.

  “Who are you?”

  Startled, Ben spun around, reaching for his rifle as he aimed it into the darkness. But he lowered his weapon when he saw the group of frightened people. The building Ben entered was a small restaurant, and he saw the tables that had been turned over during the stampede away from the gunfire.

  The woman who asked the question stepped forward, away from the group. She was an older woman, early fifties with a short bob of gray hair. “Do you know what’s going on?”

  Ben knew everyone was hungry for answers, but he didn’t have time to explain, so he stuck with the simple version. “You need to go home. Everyone. If there is a back exit, then take it. The shooter is northwest of us.” He pointed out the window to where he had seen the sniper. “So long as you’re going in the opposite direction, you should be safe.”