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

by Hunt, James

  7

  Embers rained overhead as South Asheville transformed into an inferno that was bright as sunlight. The combination of the smoke and heat slowed Ben’s pace, along with the massive stampede of people running in every direction. The blaze about to consume the city had eroded whatever remained of people’s reason, which was already severely depleted.

  Ben wasn’t sure where everyone was running to, or why he saw some people still in their homes, staring out into the streets with expressions of helplessness. The city was going to burn, and no amount of well wishes was going to stop that now.

  Random gunshots echoed above the constant and steady roar from the fires and the sounds of people scrambling through the ever-crowded streets.

  But even with all of the distraction, Ben remained focused on his single goal: get his boys.

  Even with all of the chaos and his fatigue from carrying Kurt to the station, he made good time. Part of it was because of his knowledge of the city. He knew which shortcuts to take and which routes he could divert if he ran into the unexpected blockade.

  It was a byproduct of having lived here his entire life. And he knew the land beyond the city as well. The fires were currently ravaging the mountainsides he had traveled as a boy. He had climbed over every rock and branch and hill that the surrounding land possessed.

  He had hunted in the woods out here. He had taken his boys out fishing on the rivers and lakes. It was a beautiful piece of land, and it broke his heart to see it burning.

  Ben knew because of the unseasonably dry weather that everything west of the river that curved around the east of the city would burn. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of acres would be scorched. The death toll would be astronomical.

  BEN TOOK a right on a crossroads ahead, still keeping close to the walls to provide cover. The gunshots were growing more frequent, and he didn’t want to catch a bullet before he arrived at his destination. He imagined the fires and chaos provided the other snipers a bountiful hunting ground. It must have been like shooting fish in a barrel.

  More bodies bumped against Ben on his path forward, no one even noticing the other people around them.

  Ben wondered how many people had abandoned families and friends. Probably more than anyone cared to admit. But he knew that once this was over, any survivors who had abandoned their moral compass would have guilt haunt them for leaving behind those close to them. The gift of survival would transform into their curse.

  And while the captain had told him to leave, Ben already felt the guilt of his departure creeping in. But he had to remember his mission. Getting his boys was a priority above all else. Once his family was secure, then he would be able to help other people. That had always been the plan. He just needed to take his own advice.

  The embers rained down in growing thickness as flames consumed the buildings across the street. Ben was thankful for his fire suit, which protected him from the floating debris.

  People spilled from the buildings and dumped out onto the streets, colliding into those who were already on the run. The river of bodies flowed between the parked cars as the skies themselves seemed to catch fire and rain flames.

  Parents carried children in their arms, clutching them tightly to their chests. People fashioned masks out of anything they could find to help filter the smoke: scarves, bandanas, ski masks, towels, and shirts. Everyone doing everything they could during the mass migration to keep themselves alive.

  But how many would know which direction the fires were spreading? How many would know where to go that would be safe? Ben knew few would keep their heads during the chaos. He did his best to make sure he was one of them.

  Lungs on fire by the time Ben neared the last intersection before he reached the boys, Ben turned left, heading toward the blaze in order to get to his sons.

  The bulk of the flames were only a block away now, and in all of his years with the fire department, he had never felt anything like the heat barreling toward him now.

  It was so hot Ben continued to glance down at his arms and legs to make sure he hadn’t caught fire along with the rest of the world.

  Ben finally reached the apartment building, where he had dropped off the boys and fought against the crowds to head up the staircase. He reached for the door, the entrance usually locked and requiring an electronic key card, but with the power down, he was granted access.

  The entire building was less than a year old and touted as a smart building. The residents could control everything through an app on their phone. Not that it mattered now.

  Ben headed for the staircase, smoke trailing him from the outside as he made his way up to the second floor. The staircase was empty, and when he reached the second floor, he saw all the doors to the apartments open, the second floor quiet.

  “Connor! Tommy!” Ben shouted, his voice cracked and horse. He stumbled down the hallway to the apartment where he had dropped off the boys and again saw the door open. He stepped inside, finding the place in the kind of disarray that accompanied a quick departure. “Boys!” Desperation clung to Ben’s voice as he stumbled into the apartment’s living room, coughing.

  If everyone had left, then Ben had no idea where they could have gone. They could be anywhere in the chaos of the city. It would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.

  “Dad?”

  Ben spun around and saw Tommy and Connor standing in the doorway of the hallway that led to the bedrooms. Tommy had his thumb stuck in his mouth, his other hand holding Connor’s hand.

  At first, Ben though the sight of them was nothing more than a mirage, but as the boys ran to him and collided into his legs, Ben knew he wasn’t dreaming. He bent down and wrapped his arms around the boys, squeezing them tight. He kissed the tops of their heads and then leaned back so he could get a better look at them.

  “Are you all right? Are you hurt?” Ben asked.

  “We’re okay,” Connor answered.

  Ben glanced around the apartment. “Where is everyone else?”

  “They left,” Connor said.

  Ben snapped his head back to his oldest son. “They just left you here?” He wasn’t able to hide the anger in his voice. He had trusted the Tuckers.

  “They tried to get us to go with them, but I told them we should stay,” Connor said, trying to explain. “I told them that you would come to get us.”

  Ben smiled, nodding along. “That’s good.” He grabbed his son’s shoulder. “You remembered.” They had always discussed the plan of what to do if something bad happened when they separated. Ben had told them to stay put. “I’ll always come to get you. Now, listen carefully. There’s a fire coming, and we need to outrun it. We have to move quickly. Tommy, I’ll carry you, but Connor, I want you to hold onto my hand, and you don’t let go no matter what, okay?”

  Both his boys nodded.

  “Good.” Ben stood and adjusted his pack and his weapons so he could scoop Tommy up in one arm, the boy was only six, so he was light, and then opened his jacket to cover him. “Tommy, keep your arms wrapped around my neck, okay?”

  Tommy nodded and then did as his dad instructed. Ben reached for Connor’s hand, consuming the boy’s small fist.

  Ben took a moment to gather his strength. He knew what was waiting for them beyond the walls. It would be a long journey through the city, and they were far from out of danger.

  But Ben wouldn’t fail.

  “Let’s go,” Ben said.

  Ben moved as quickly as Connor could muster. On the way down the stairs, Tommy squeezed his arms tighter around Ben’s neck, and Connor remained tense on the sprint down. Ben knew neither boy truly understood what was happening, but they knew enough to be scared. Sometimes that’s all you needed for survival.

  Out of the stairwell, Ben paused at the exit doors, staring through the glass to the street beyond. The stampede of the crowd had only worsened, and the flames had reached the buildings across the street. They were on the edge of the inferno now.

  With the mob outs
ide, Ben knew it would be difficult to keep Connor close.

  Ben stepped back, pulling Connor with him. “We’ll head out the back.”

  The light of the fires outside helped illuminate their path toward the back of the building as he headed north toward home.

  The deeper they moved into the building, the less light penetrated from the front, and it became harder to see. The darkness slowed Ben’s pace, but he managed to find a side door that spilled into a narrow, empty alley.

  Ben checked both ways, ensuring they were alone, and when he was certain there was no chance of an ambush, he stepped from the building and sprinted away from the flames.

  A one-lane street sat behind the apartment building, which backed up against the rear of another row of buildings that were attached to the next street over.

  With the single-lane road fairly empty save for a few people who were sprinting away from the flames, Ben chose the route less traveled and continued down the single-lane road.

  The added weight of the children slowed Ben’s pace, but he maintained a steady cadence as he held tight to his boys on their escape.

  The single-lane eventually dead-ended into another building, but another alley ran parallel, and Ben turned left, heading north. But as the flames flickered higher behind him and illuminated the path ahead, Ben slowed when he saw the stampede of bodies waiting for him at the end of the alley as people rushed in their frantic attempt to escape danger.

  Ben stopped before they entered the fray, and Ben looked down at his son. “Connor, I need you to stay as close to me as you can, okay? Grab onto my leg.”

  Connor dutifully wrapped his free arm around Ben’s leg.

  “You hold on tight,” Ben said, and then faced the stampede once more. “Very tight.”

  Ben readied himself for the chaos and then moved with purpose toward the crowd.

  The moment Ben stepped from the alleyway, bodies collided into Ben and his boys. People flew by him, paying no mind as Ben headed north, away from the fires.

  The crowded streets slowed Ben’s progress, and between the roar of the crowd and the flames, Ben couldn’t hear what Connor was yelling at him.

  “Just hang on, buddy!” Ben said, knowing if they slowed or stopped, they could be putting themselves in incredible danger.

  But the fire wasn’t the only enemy in the city.

  The gunshot came from the north, and the noise froze everyone in their tracks, Ben included. But the pause didn’t last very long, and the second gunshot prompted chaos.

  The crowd split in every direction, and every step forward was like fighting a raging current. Arms, legs, shoulders, and hands knocked into Ben as he struggled to keep pushing north.

  Ben still hadn’t been able to locate the shooters from his position, but the sound of the gunfire signaled the enemy was close. Too close.

  A surge of people heading south toward the fires forced Ben to stop, but he refused to backtrack. That was until he saw the source of the surge.

  Masked gunmen were ahead, moving methodically in a grid to push the innocent crowds toward the flames.

  Stuck between two perilous situations, Ben moved west, hoping to evade the gunmen before he and his boys got shot or burned alive.

  Only a few other people had the same sense as Ben to keep parallel to the dangers on either side. The majority sprinted back into the buildings or homes that would soon be consumed by the flames.

  It was an effective strategy by the terrorists, pinning people between the flames and their weapons, but Ben refused to become another casualty from their unknown enemy.

  Ben cut up through another alley where a few others had broken off from the bulk of the herd, putting the screams and gunfire behind him.

  Both Connor and Tommy clung to their father tightly.

  “Dad, what’s going on?” Connor yelled.

  “We need to keep moving,” Ben answered through labored breath, noting that his adrenaline was starting to wear off as it became harder and harder to concentrate.

  Ben reached the end of the alley, and more gunfire erupted in front of them, and Ben watched as the three men who had stepped out onto the street ahead of them dropped dead.

  Ben skidded to a stop and backpedaled, keeping his eyes on the end of the alleyway. But because he couldn’t see behind him, two people sprinted past, knocking into Ben’s shoulder and sending him to the pavement.

  Ben managed to pivot his body just in time to make sure he landed on the pavement and protected both of his boys from the bulk of the blow, Tommy and Connor landing on his shoulder and leg.

  Both of the boys groaned from the impact, and their grips around Ben loosened. But while the boys were recovering from the fall, Ben already had his eyes up and was looking at the end of the alley, and more gunfire added two more bodies to the death count.

  Even with the boys still recovering from their fall, Ben wasted no time as he rose to his feet, keeping hold of Tommy and Connor and retreated down the alley just as the gunmen reached the alley.

  Ben moved as quickly as he could with both boys latched onto him. The added weight slowed him down significantly, but it didn’t matter as he stopped.

  Two more gunmen appeared on the other end. Ben was trapped.

  Unable to go north or south, Ben found the nearest door into the adjacent building and ducked inside as gunfire erupted in the alleyway.

  Ben plunged into darkness, and the harsh forward momentum from his entrance caused him to collide into a nearby wall, but Ben never stopped moving.

  The sound of his feet scuffed against the concrete floor as Ben stumbled through the darkness. He readjusted his grip on both of his boys to make sure he still had a hold on both of his kids and then continued through the dark maze.

  The walls of the building muted the screams and gunfire outside. Based on the long stretches of hallway Ben traveled through, he suspected that he was moving through the first floor of another apartment complex.

  But what was more concerning than the voices beyond the walls were the whispers that flitted through the darkness.

  People were still inside the building, still inside their homes in the darkness. Ben heard sobs, angry whispers, people trying to calm children and each other.

  Ben wanted to scream at the people to get out, but it would create a stampede through the halls, not to mention it might get him and his boys shot. People were on edge now, and it wouldn’t take much for them to jump off.

  An orange glow pulled Ben toward an exit at the front, and he paused to make sure the coast was clear. The street appeared empty, but Ben knew his eyes were tired and he didn’t want to be ambushed.

  Ben blinked, shaking off the fatigue of the moment and then focused on what was outside. And he found two shooters ducked behind cars, waiting for people to run.

  “Shit,” Ben muttered beneath his breath. He turned around, knowing turning back was to rush into the inferno.

  Smoke had already penetrated the building, making it harder to breathe. His boys coughed, and he pressed both of their faces into his shirt and pants.

  “Just hang on, boys!” Ben said.

  Ben faced forward again, knowing he was out of time. If he backtracked now, then he would burn alive like everyone who stayed in this building. His only chance was to make it to the street and use the broken-down vehicles for cover.

  Ben steeled himself for the sprint. He mapped out his route, knowing which car he needed to get to first. But he knew that if he was going to make it, then he needed to move as fast as possible.

  “Connor, I need to carry you,” Ben said.

  Ben scooped Connor up in his other arm, the boy considerably heavier than his brother, but he knew it was the only way they were going to make it.

  “I want you boys to keep your faces against my shoulder, okay?” Ben said, starting to cough from the smoke.

  Both of the boys nodded and did as he told them.

  And as Ben saw the flicker of flames behind him, he sprinted outside.<
br />
  The gunmen reacted quickly, but the darkness combined with Ben’s surprise exit onto the street caused them to miss as he neared the first car.

  Ben wasted little time after he reached the first car and continued his escape to the next vehicle, keeping his body between the enemy behind him and the bullets tearing through the air as the boys screamed.

  The flames overtook the buildings to Ben’s right, and he found another gear as he sprinted down the road. Eventually, the fires forced him to abandon his cover routine, and he just moved as low and as fast as he could down the road.

  Somewhere along the way, Ben couldn’t hear the gunshots anymore as the world around him devolved into flames. The fire was moving faster than before, and Ben took the next street, turning north.

  Ben didn’t know how long he ran or how far. He didn’t realize how close the flames had come, licking at his heels as he weaved around the disabled vehicles.

  All Ben focused on was continuing forward. And he prayed he would get out before the flames consumed him and his boys.

  8

  T he moment Lester pulled the trigger and shot Harry Simmons, Jane Percy knew things had changed. But the only question she couldn’t answer at the moment was how much things had changed.

  Lester hadn’t stopped pacing the living room floor since the Simmons women had departed, carrying the wounded Harry between them. He was like a lion in a cage, anxious and angry.

  Lester had soaked through his wife-beater, which exposed his lean muscled frame, a trait shared by most of the Percy men. He was tall, and while he might be getting long in the tooth, he was still strong.

  Donny, Lester’s younger brother, was the same way, but with less hair. He had gone prematurely bald when he was twenty-two.

  Gray was the only exception. He was built more like his mother, a wiry frame. But he had inherited his father’s height.

  Jane Percy was short, thin, nothing but sinewy muscles, and her attractive face hid the devious mind behind a pair of rich, dark-brown eyes. She had wavy, black hair that fell down her back, almost reaching her waist. She had once been described as lightning in a bottle by a boy she liked in high school. It had been her favorite description of herself anyone had ever said.