by Greene, Dane
Rage:
A Story of Survival
Dane Greene
Copyright © 2012 Dane Greene
All rights reserved.
Contents
Chapter 1: Aaron
Chapter 2: Jason
Chapter 3: Aaron
Chapter 4: Brian
Chapter 5: Sophia
Chapter 6: Aaron
Chapter 7: Stephanie
Chapter 8: Aaron
Chapter 9: Dawn
Chapter 10: Aaron
Chapter 11: Melany/Kent
Chapter 12: Dawn
Chapter 13: Marcus
Chapter 14: Aaron
Chapter 15: Stephanie
Chapter 16: Aaron
Chapter 17: Brian
Chapter 18: Aaron
Chapter 19: Jason
Chapter 20: Aaron
Chapter 21: Alexis
Epilogue: Evelyn
DEDICATION
Thank you to my mother, my first reader, and source of encouragement, Lorene Greene
Thank you to my final editor and source of joy, Liz Greene
Thank you to my cover designer who made my books world come to life, Veronica Steffen
And a final thank you to anyone I didn’t name here but who supported me along the way
Chapter 1: Aaron
March 13th
The screeching sirens of my reliable alarm clock ring. In reaction, I roll over and hit the snooze button. Even after a year of working morning shifts, I still hate waking up this early. When I look at the clock, I see that it’s thirty minutes past the time I usually wake up.
“Crap, I’m going to be late. If I leave in the next five minutes and speed, I can make it to work on time.”
I jump out of bed, pull on my lumber yard uniform, and grab my keys and wallet before running out the door. My car’s engine roars to life and I speed through my dark and quiet town. Lucky for me, it seems the police officers are in bed, sleeping with the rest of town.
Once I reach the outskirts, I relax. Work is a straight shot from here. Even though I’m speeding, I still have a half-hour commute, so I set my cruise control and wait.
My mind starts to wander to what I’ll do at work today, and my stomach growls. In my rush to get out the door, I realize I’ve forgotten to eat breakfast and didn’t pack a lunch. Sighing to myself, I say, “Guess I’ll have to settle for fast food on my break.”
As the drive progresses, the uncluttered view of the flat countryside relaxes me. As the barren fields pass me by, I wonder when they’ll show signs of the recently planted crops. It’s mid-spring, and the weather has been unseasonably warm.
A white dot is at the edge of my vision, and when I focus on it, I realize that it’s a minivan several miles in front of me and in my lane. The van grows larger, and it’s clearly traveling much slower than I am.
As I come closer to the minivan, it becomes apparent that I’ll need to pass it. Once I make sure there are no other cars in the oncoming lane, I change lanes and start to pass the van, but my steering wheel locks up and I freeze.
Several moments pass before I realize I don’t hear the steady rhythmic drone of my engine. Instinctively, I fumble for the ignition key, but before I can get a hold of it, a sickening impact hits me.
My body screams as I’m jerked around in my seat. A loud, unending roar forces its way into my ears, like a thunderous chorus screeching nonsensical metallic words.
I pray for it to end when my car slams to a stop and my head hits something hard.
“Am I going to die? I don’t want to die this way. I want to live.” My consciousness fades while I grasp the severity of the situation. Trying to force myself to stay alert, I find my body betraying me. Everything fades and darkness overcomes my consciousness.
When my eyes open, I’m immediately blinded by the sun. Drawing in a long, slow breath, I smell cooking asphalt and burnt rubber. Listening for sirens, I’m greeted only with silence.
Looking through what remains of my passenger side door, I see the remnants of a tree. In a rush, the memory of everything that’s happened floods back. It’s then that I realize this tree is what stopped me. I suppose I should be grateful that I’m alive and that my car landed right-side up.
I go to unbuckle my seat belt and notice some dry blood on my hand. Thinking that I’m more injured than I realize, I check over my body. Luckily, I find everything mostly intact. That’s when I first feel the signs of a sunburnt face.
Other pains accompany my sunburn, but most of them seem mild enough to ignore. Suddenly, my stomach growls, breaking the silence surrounding me. My best guess is that it’s around late morning. I look through my car windshield, squinting up at the east-facing sun, and I realize that sunburns take longer than a couple of hours. My stomach growls again, and the clues start to form. Signs point to it having been at least a full twenty-four hours.
As if on cue, I notice a smell and realize I must have soiled myself in my sleep. With newfound motivation, I climb out of my car and do the best I can to clean myself up. It only takes a few minutes, but by the end, I find myself exhausted and short of breath.
A powerful thirst comes over me, and I realize that my first priority should be finding some water. I search the remains of my car and am lucky enough to find a half-full water bottle wedged under the passenger seat.
I fight back the urge to drink the water all at once and instead sip it slowly. After I’m done with it, I decide to try walking back home. I’m not sure how emergency vehicles missed my car, but staying here without food or water any longer wouldn’t be wise.
As I walk along the highway, I see nothing except a white van about a half-mile south of me. Remembering that it was the car I hit, I decide to investigate. Hopefully whoever was driving it fared better than I did.
As I walk toward the car, I’m surprised by the eerie silence around me. For miles around, I see nothing moving. It’s late enough in the day that I should see some other cars, and I’m beginning to suspect I’ll have to walk all the way back to town. Luckily, it’s a clear sunny day and it isn’t too hot yet. After the half bottle of water, I feel much better, and as I move, I find much of my body’s stiffness working itself out.
While I’m walking, something in my pocket rubs my leg, and I realize that it’s my cell phone, so I dig it out of my pocket to call 911. Luckily, the screen is completely intact, but when I hit the unlock button, nothing happens. So I try every trick in the book to turn it on, but after a few minutes I decide the phone is dead or broken. “Crap,” I mumble.
With the dream of speedy salvation through my cell phone dead, I continue walking toward the minivan. If I’m lucky, the occupants survived and left some water behind. If I’m walking home, I’ll need water and I don’t think the half bottle I had will get me far.
When I reach the van, I find its door ajar. Not wanting to look inside yet, I search around the car. From the looks of things, I must have pushed the car off the road before going out of control. A flood of relief hits me that no one died from the car accident.
There is no one nearby, so I search the inside of the car. I find a treasure trove of small snack packages and water bottles. Aside from the plentiful snacks and water, I find some baseball uniforms and gear. I take as many water bottles and snacks as my bag can carry, and as an afterthought, I grab a baseball bat as well.
Even though I doubt I’ll need the baseball bat, something compels me to take it. After I check through the contents of the van once more, making sure I didn’t miss anything, I decide to take a minute to eat. Taking advantage of the shade in the van, I sit down in one of the abandoned seats. After resting a minute, I eat some fruit snacks and drink a bottle of water. Once I sta
rt eating, I realize how ravenous I am and devour half of my supplies, only forcing myself to stop because I might need them later.
Refreshed by the food and drink, I start my walk to town. At first the walk is painful, but my muscles and bones get used to the motion. The task of walking gives me a newfound purpose, and I start to enjoy it. After what feels like a few miles, this enjoyment starts to fade, so I take a break under a nearby tree. After a few minutes of rest, some water, and food, I continue my journey.
After what feels like several more miles, I spot another car on the road. When I look inside the abandoned car, I find it empty and free of any visible damage. Checking the doors, I find them unlocked. I try to start the car, hoping for the best, but nothing happens.
Thinking the car battery doesn’t have enough charge to start the car, I decide to pop the hood and take a look. Since I have no way to charge the battery, I break off the antenna and drop it on top of the negative and positive terminals. My experiment is a success and I’m sprayed by a brief shower of sparks.
The battery should have enough charge to at least turn on the lights. For some reason, it won’t. Not knowing what else to do, I spend a few minutes checking out the different engine parts under the hood. Everything is in pristine condition, and when I take a closer look at the car, I don’t see a dent or scratch on it.
“I wish I had more time to try to get this running,” I say to myself. However, sundown is approaching, and I want to get home before night descends.
Before continuing my walk, I search the car and pocket a lighter I find. There’s nothing else of use to me, so I go. Mile after mile slips by as the sun beats down on me, and the dread of not seeing any other moving car or person weighs down on me. As I get closer to town, I pass dozens of cars, all of them in the same condition. After the first few, I don’t even bother stopping to check; I know they are all dead.
Fear fills me. Right now, the thing I want most is to find my family and make sure they’re okay. There appears to be no power to anything, anywhere. I feel as though, somehow, I might be the last human in existence.
My hopes lift when I find a manual water pump outside a barn on the very edge of town.
No longer worrying about running into anyone, I strip and bathe myself and my clothes. Though the water is cold, the feeling of being clean again gives me comfort. After washing myself and my clothes, I redress, struggling to put on my damp clothes.
Knowing I’m not far from home, I finish off the last of my food and water, then leave the makeshift sling bag by the water pump. Though I debate leaving my baseball bat there as well, I’m once again compelled to take it.
Everywhere I go, abandoned cars litter the road. This, combined with the silence, worries me. Seeing no signs of any people, I’m unsettled when I can’t detect the hum of technology. Strange how I never realized, until now, how much noise I heard on a daily basis. The silence is almost unbearable.
An idea enters my mind, and I realize what might be going on. Before I can finish my thought, I notice the silhouette of a person moving in the distance.
A sigh of relief courses through me, and for a brief second, I consider running up to them. But for some reason, caution and common sense tell me that I should approach carefully.
Seeing a white wooden fence in front of a nearby house, I move behind it. I look through the space between the boards and manage to estimate that I’m about ten feet from four men.
Three of them have their backs to me, but the fourth is facing my direction. The man has a humble stature and neat brown hair. He’s wearing glasses, and I realize that he’s a friend of mine. My relief is so strong that I start to walk toward the nearby fence door, only stopping myself when I hear someone speak.
“Shit, Jason, I told you yesterday: no one leaves their houses. The feds are gone, and I own this street. You get protection, and all you need to do is pay my tax. You already paid me yesterday, so unless you’re here to thank me, why the hell are you outside?”
Hearing this confirms I must have been unconscious for more than a day. There’s no way things could get this bad in a few hours, even if all power has gone out, like I’m beginning to suspect.
Knowing I’m in the worst part of town right now, I’m not surprised by these thugs’ actions. Hopefully idiots like these guys aren’t trying to rule neighborhoods everywhere. Not wanting to make things worse for Jason, I decide to stay hidden and watch for now. Jason is a smart guy, and I’m confident he’ll make these thugs see reason—or, at the very least, not harm him.
As I look through the crack between the boards, I see Jason start talking.
“I told you yesterday, there are kids who will go to the mission center. They need me there to help them, especially now.”
As I watch, the man in the center reaches to his side and draws out a large hunting knife from its sheath. Shock rushes through me, and fear of what could happen to Jason overtakes me. I realize that, if I’m going to act, I’d better do it soon. There’s no way I’ll stand by and watch my friend get gutted. Even if this is only a scare tactic, this guy is going too far, and I know I have to help my friend.
Trying to remember my martial arts training, I pull out the dead cell phone in my pocket. Throwing open the gate of the fence, I scream as loud as I can and run toward the group. All four men are startled, and the thug on the right starts turning toward me. I throw my phone at him, hitting him square in the nose with accuracy that can only happen in a crisis. The man stumbles back and is open.
Ignoring the man, I go for the thugs’ leader, the one with the knife. Swinging the baseball bat at the man’s arm, I feel a sickening impact as the bat hits his right elbow. A metal ringing sounds as the knife hits the ground. Immediately, I swing in the opposite direction and bring the bat around with all my might. The bat slams into the dazed leader’s arm and throws him to the ground. As this happens, my grip on the bat slips, and it falls with the man.
The man I hit with my phone has recovered, and the other thug is now facing me as well. Not wanting to fight two men at once, I yell out to Jason.
“Jason, help!” A look of recognition hits him, and he charges the man on my right. His fist hits the man on the side of the head, and he falls unconscious before he has the chance to react. The third man hesitates, and I take the opportunity.
My friend and occasional sparring partner and I slip into our martial arts stances.
“If you want to go, now is your chance. You can yield and take your friends out of here.” The man looks like he’s about to agree when the still-conscious leader shouts out.
“If you don’t shoot these assholes, I’ll kill you and your whole fucking family.” Hearing the word “shoot,” I realize it’s possible the man has a gun, so I react before he does. Jumping the distance between us, I automatically throw a combo I’ve practiced. Jab, cross, left hook, right elbow, and uppercut. Teeth cut into my hands and elbow, but I don’t feel them. The man falls to the ground, along with several of his teeth. He doesn’t move. He must be unconscious.
The leader screams in anger, but he can’t move well enough to be a threat. This is why I’m a little surprised when Jason walks over and kicks him in the head. The man’s screams stop.
Jason looks shaken as he walks toward me. Everything that happened catches up to me, and I fall to my knees. My breath comes in gasps, and I try to force my shaking body to calm. Jason sits down next to me and waits for me to calm. After I’ve steadied my breathing, I check to make sure the three men are still alive and find that they have pulses. Relieved, I go back to Jason.
Even in the present circumstances, the relief of finding another person is overwhelming. Even better, I’m lucky that the first person I run into is someone I know well. Perhaps I can finally get some answers about what’s going on.
“Nice to see you, man,” Jason chimes. “You look like hell. I didn’t recognize you at first. Where have you been?”
“My car crashed on the way to work. I’m not sure h
ow long I was out. Mind catching me up on everything?” Jason looks a little surprised, but he catches me up on everything.
The first thing I learn is that I was unconscious for three days. The chaos in the town makes more sense and confirms my suspicions. Jason also says that all power has been gone since my car first crashed. He shows me that even his digital watch doesn’t work. He also tells me the light bulbs exploded, and anything with circuits is dead.
“The only thing that could cause this is an electromagnetic pulse, otherwise known as an EMP blast,” Jason says.
I’d hoped this wasn’t the case, but after what he’s told me, I know it must be true.
Jason continues. “An EMP is a pulse of electrons that overloads all circuits and electronic wires. Basically, anything that uses circuit boards or wires receives a powerful electric surge. This surge burns them out. It may be possible to repair mechanically driven things. Everything that runs on microchips will be useless, though. Luckily, batteries still have a charge, so rebuilding some things might be possible.”
Jason proceeds to tell me about the mission center as we walk. He tells me that, with the help of others, he plans to try and get the pumps in the water towers running again. His only concern is that he can’t think of a way to provide a permanent power supply. His comments remind me of the construction zones I passed earlier. Since he might need them, I tell him there might be some solar panels in some of the devices there. Jason becomes excited and tells me I should join him at the community center, but I have to refuse.
Although helping our community sounds like a great idea, I still need to make sure my family is alright. Jason understands, and we go our separate ways. He wishes me luck, and I do the same.