End Days Super Boxset

by Hayden, Roger

  “I don't know,” Shane said. “It's nice of you, but—”

  “We have plenty of room, don't worry about it. This open bay here has twenty beds alone. Think about it. Real beds, not the hard, wet ground. It would be irresponsible to let you go on in your current states.”

  “So you're saying that your vehicles don't work?” Chris asked.

  “Exactly,” Russell said.

  “Because of this EMP,” Chris said.

  “Yes.”

  “And you have no way to communicate with anyone outside of that radio.”

  “It's our only window to the outside world,” Russell said.

  They went silent for a moment. Chris had spoken up and asked direct questions. Russell thought him no fool and felt an independent streak in the boy that could be a problem for the camp.

  “Kyle and I will step away for a moment so you can discuss your options,” Russell said. “You are welcome to stay here as long as you need to. In the meantime, if you should decide to leave, we urge that you be careful out there.” Russell signaled to Kyle. “Let's bring our guests some food now.” He looked to the group. “We'll be back in ten minutes.” Russell and Kyle walked away from the table and out the front door of the cabin.

  As soon as the door closed, the students looked at each other for a resolution.

  “I want to know who these people are,” Chris said.

  “Backwoods types,” Sally said as Shane massaged her swollen ankle. “I mean, I don't think they want to hurt us, do they?”

  Shane spoke up. “I'm not saying we, like, completely trust them or anything, but Russell has a point. We're not going to make it to our cars tonight. If what he's saying about this EMP is true, then we're double screwed.”

  “So what?” Danny said. “We find the nearest town and get help from real people, not these weirdos. Did you see the way they were looking at us? It seems like a big risk, that's all I'm saying,” Danny said.

  “True that,” Jeff chimed in.

  “Well, I don't want to just up and leave. This place could make a great story,” Chris said. He was a journalism major, and intrigued by the mysterious aura of the place. “Let's put it to a vote,” he said. Everyone in the group looked at him. “It's the only way this is going to work. But we have to agree to go with what the majority says.” Chris looked around for approval. “Agreed?” he asked.

  “Agreed,” the group said, unenthusiastically.

  “Let's have it then,” Chris said. “All in favor of staying here a couple of days, raise your hands.”

  Shane, Sally, Jeff, and Chris raised their hands. “That's four votes,” Chris said. “Now all in favor of leaving raise your hands.”

  Danny and Jacklyn raised their hands.

  “That's two votes. Looks like we're staying,” Chris said. There was no celebrating either option. Ultimately, they all wanted to go home.

  Russell and Kyle dug through the food storage closet and filled up a carry bag with some canned soup.

  “We'll just throw some soup on the fire, and get these guys something in their bellies,” Russell said.

  “Do you think they'll go for it?” Kyle asked.

  Russell narrowed his eyes in thought. “I don't really think they have much of a choice. It's their future too.”

  They walked out of the storage closet and into the hall of one of the cabins. Russell walked to the front door as Kyle followed.

  “We've got fifteen fine men as it is,” Russell said, swinging the bag of canned goods in his hand. “Our numbers will continue to grow, starting with this bunch. Just think about it. We're nearing the third day of a complete and total breakdown in infrastructure. Nearly two centuries of advancement vanquished in a second. Whoever hears our broadcast is going to come. And you want to know why? Because they're smart enough to still have a radio that works. That's why.”

  They walked back to the guest cabin and opened the door. Several kerosene lanterns remained flickering in the corners of the room. The college kids looked up from the bench, as if startled. Russell held up his carry bag.

  “Hope you guys dig chicken noodle soup,” he said.

  The group brightened at the thought.

  “Good then,” he said, noticing their excitement. “Did you make a decision yet on what you want to do?”

  “We did,” Shane said, standing up. “We would like to stay for a couple of days.”

  Russell and Kyle nodded back in agreement. “Excellent,” Russell said.

  One Week Later

  Tuesday, September 29, 2020, 9:05 a.m., Milledgeville, Georgia

  The days went on at a leisurely pace at the bug-out house for the next week. Predictably, the updates on the radio indicated that things had gotten worse around Georgia and that the state and federal governments were scrambling to respond to the massive power outages. Crime had increased, stores had been looted, and no one in a highly urbanized area was safe. This was the situation even though the National Guard had been deployed to key areas around their respective states to maintain a sense of order. Ironically, most of their outdated vehicles and equipment kept them functional after the EMP.

  The prepper pact agreed that they would hunker down for a week—a week of working together to ensure that the house was maintained and that they had the supplies needed for an extended stay, if necessary. Christina and James, both having firearms skills, taught Mark and Janice some basic weapon fundamentals. They started with handguns and went into the woods for target practice.

  James, a former marine and Gulf War veteran, emphasized both hands interlocked over the grip, a slight bend to their knees, and feet spread squarely. The most important part of firing a weapon, he said, was breathing control. They spent the next few days going over the basics.

  Janice showed Tobias and Paula how to maintain a backyard garden. She stressed the importance of practical fruits and vegetables, sweet potatoes, tomatoes, and melons. A fertile ground of good soil was obviously one of the most important elements, and she let Paula make her own spot in the garden where she planted some strawberry seeds.

  Terrance, a former mechanic, serviced the bug-out vehicles and made sure they were running properly. He changed spark plugs and filters here and there with what parts James had on-hand, but didn't want to change too many parts at the risk of messing with them too much.

  Everyone had a role to play and a contribution to make. Tobias resented having to work in the garden and help with daily chores, and he pleaded with his parents to go back home, to no avail. Terrance knew it was about time to travel back to Atlanta and retrieve Richie, if possible. There had already been emergency warnings over the radio of closed roads, military checkpoints, and lootings. Things would only get worse the longer he waited.

  Terrance walked out into the backyard after a morning shower and found Tobias washing laundry in a large bucket, the old-fashioned way. In the far distance he could hear gunshots of target practice.

  “What are you doing out here?” Terrance asked.

  “What does it look like I'm doing?” Tobias answered, looking down and dunking the heavy, soaked clothes under soapy water.

  “It looks like you're washing clothes,” Terrance said.

  “Yeah, so,” Tobias said.

  “I was just asking. Is that everyone's laundry?” Terrance asked.

  Tobias took his hands out of the bucket, as they dripped onto the grass below. “You think I want to be doing this? Go ask Mom. She told me to do it. I'm being punished.”

  “Punished?” Terrance said, confused. “Punished for what?”

  Tobias titled his head back and sighed in frustration. “I told them that I didn't want to go shooting with them. Mom told me to stay back and do laundry.”

  “Why didn't you want to go shooting?” he asked.

  Tobias looked at the ground, almost ashamed. “I just don't like guns, OK? I don't want to shoot one. Ever.”

  Terrance approached Tobias and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Look, son. I understand
where you're coming from. Guns aren't a toy. They can be very dangerous in the wrong hands. But if you're trained to use one, it could save your life one day.”

  “Whatever,” Tobias said.

  “I'm not defending your mother, here, Tobias. I think she needs to respect where you're coming from. But she only wants to make sure that you can protect yourself when the time comes.”

  “I can do that just fine without a gun.”

  “Someday you're going to have to change your mind on that.”

  “I don't care. I'll sit here and do laundry all day before I shoot a gun.”

  Terrance disregarded Tobias's attitude and continued. “I wanted to ask you something. I want you to go to Atlanta and help me get your brother.”

  Tobias's eyes lit up. “Really? When?”

  “Soon.”

  Tobias smiled then showed a look of concern. “Is Mom going to let me go?”

  “Don't tell her anything yet. Let me talk to her first,” Terrance said.

  Suddenly, Christina, Mark, and Janice emerged from the woods, holding rifles. “You guys are getting much better each day,” Christina continued.

  They were each wearing noise-reducing headphones around their necks along with protective glasses. Personal safety was a crucial part of firearms training. As they entered the backyard, Christina looked up and saw Terrance and Tobias standing next to each other. The giant bucket of soaked laundry was at their feet.

  “What are you two up to?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Nothing much, how did it go?” Terrance asked.

  “Coming alone fine. We'll all be sharpshooters soon enough,” she said.

  Mark and Janice smiled. “I think we're getting the hang of it,” he said. “We owe everything to Christina, though. She's an excellent teacher.”

  Terrance grabbed Christina's arm, causing her to turn to him, surprised. “Can we talk a minute in private?” he asked.

  “Sure,” she said. “I was just about to go in and wash up.” Terrance followed her inside the house as Mark and Janice stayed out in the backyard with Tobias at the laundry bucket. Tobias crouched down and plunged his hands into the water.

  “And how are you doing, Tobias?” Janice asked.

  Tobias pushed the ball of clothes up and down in the bucket. “Just peachy,” he said.

  Terrance and Christina walked into their room, and she set her Bushmaster carbine rifle onto the bed. The rifles belonged to James; they had five in all. For the past week, things were normal; however, there was no denying the anxiety in the air and the fear they felt for the places they had fled. Terrance and Christina told their kids to think of everything as a vacation. Paula wanted to go back to school, and there was no doubt that Tobias was getting anxious too, and missing his friends.

  According to the radio, schools had been closed. A state of emergency had been declared across Georgia, and there was no reason to go back home until the situation improved. For Terrance and Christina, there was one reason: to find Richie. As the probability of staying in the bug-out house went from days to weeks, they couldn't face the fact of their son being on his own, even if it was what he wanted.

  “Tobias and I are leaving today for Atlanta,” Terrance said.

  Christina gave him an inquisitive look. Her eyes narrowed. He knew convincing her wasn't going to be easy, and her silence didn't surprise him.

  “I've got to take him with me,” Terrance continued, taking Christina's hands in his. “We've asked so much from them, and they’ve gone along so far, but we can't push them anymore. We don't have the answers they need.”

  “They're children, Terrance, and they'll do what we ask,” Christina said.

  “Look. My main goal is to keep this family together. But I have to know that you and I support each other and our decisions.”

  Christina pulled her hands away from Terrance and held one hand in the air. “If you want to take Tobias with you, that's fine. I'll support you, Terrance, I always have, always will.”

  “Good,” Terrance said with a smile. “Now give me a kiss.” He pulled her back to him and planted one right on her lips.

  ***

  Outside, Mark and Janice were sitting on the bench cleaning their rifles. Paula was working in the garden. Tobias was hanging wet laundry on a clothesline. And James was chopping wood as usual in the morning to get his mind working.

  The back screen door opened, and Terrance and Christina walked out.

  “Tobias,” Terrance said, “let me talk to you for a minute.” Tobias turned from the clothesline as Terrance approached him. Christina walked to the garden where Paula was pulling radishes from their stems and placing them in basket.

  “How you doing, honey?” Christina asked.

  “OK, Mom,” Paula answered. Christina knelt down next to her, and examined how carefully Paula pulled at the vegetables without disturbing the plant itself. “You're really good at that, you know? You're a real natural,” she said.

  “Thanks, Mom,” Paula said. They smiled at each other, as Christina put her gardening gloves on. There were some budding grapes, red apples, and even some broccoli and eggplant starting to grow. It was by far the most impressive fall harvest they could ask for.

  Terrance took Tobias by the arm and led him around to the front of the house. The bug-out house was located on a small hill, and all they could see below the dirt-road entrance were fields of trees.

  “I talked with your mother, and she's OK with everything,” Terrance said.

  “She is?” Tobias asked, surprised.

  “Yes. So we're going to have some lunch and be ready to hit the road this evening. I want to find Richie and bring him here ASAP. That means we're not going to be in Atlanta for very long. The governor has issued a state of emergency, but I don't think it's going to do us much good.”

  “How do you know all of this?” Tobias asked.

  “We've been monitoring the radio. It's pretty bad out there; I'm not going to lie.”

  “So.” Tobias stopped then began to think to himself. “So how long are we gonna stay here?” he asked. Up until that point, both Terrance and Christina hadn't been upfront.

  “It depends on how bad things are back home. Right now we have everything that we need. We're safe, and we're together. There's nothing your mom and I don't want more than for it all to go back to normal. You kids need your schooling. We know that. We both have jobs of our own. But all we can do is look out for each other and deal with the situation.”

  “But I'm sure they have power somewhere. What about Grandpa and Grandma's house in North Carolina? What about Aunt Reba in Maine?”

  “A lot of other states are dealing with the same thing we are. The news said it over the radio.”

  “Because of the EMP.”

  “Yes, multiple attacks all through the country.”

  Tobias was stunned. He felt dizzy and weak-kneed. The severity of it all took the wind out of him. The world had changed. He understood. There was nothing temporary about their situation.

  “I just don't understand?” he muttered.

  Terrance looked at Tobias with concern, allowing him a moment to get his thoughts together.

  “It's OK, son. We're all confused. That's why we've done our best to stay busy and act like everything is normal. I don't think anyone wants to think about it too much.”

  “So you guys have no idea when this will be over,” Tobias said.

  “We can only estimate. James said it could take up to two months to get the power grid restored.”

  Tobias took a step back then began to pace. “You have got to be kidding me, Dad. We can't stay out here that long. I'll lose my mind!”

  “None of us wants to. But right now, it's our only option. I promised your mother I would keep this family together through this. That's why we're going to get Richie. We're here for the long haul.”

  Tobias couldn't say anything. He had no words. There was no way out. It felt like the worst news he had ever heard in his life, bu
t he was still too shocked to be saddened or upset by it.

  “We also have to remember that when we go in the city to stay on our toes. Things could get—” Terrance stopped suddenly when he saw some movement at the bottom of the hill.

  From the brush came a group of men, disheveled and dirty. They looked up, took keen notice of the house, and continued their march up the slope to the front yard of the house. There were four men in all, white men, and they moved cautiously forward once they took notice of Terrance and Tobias. Terrance spotted them first. Tobias's back was to them, but he knew that when he looked into his father's eyes something was wrong.

  “What is it?” Tobias asked.

  Terrance didn't take his eyes off them. “We got company, but don't look. Play it cool. Once I greet them, slowly turn around.” Terrance raised his hand in the air to offer a friendly greeting. “Hello there,” he said with his booming baritone voice.

  One of the men in the front, with sharp blue eyes and a thick black beard, looked up at Terrance and waved back. “Hello!” he said enthusiastically.

  Tobias slowly turned around to face the approaching group. “Just be friendly to them, and we'll see what they want,” Terrance said quietly.

  “Got it,” Tobias said.

  The group continued their ascent up the hill, getting closer to Terrance and Tobias. No one else in the prepper group had taken notice of them yet. The apparent leader—with black stubble, dark eyebrows, and blue eyes—stayed in front of the group. The other men's heads bobbed up and down as they slouched toward the ground, as if they were ready to pass out. They had eager looks in their eyes, and Terrance could practically hear the collective grumbling of their stomachs.

  “How can we help you gentlemen?” Terrance asked. His hands were to the side while his mind searched for a weapon or some blunt instrument just in case.

  The man approached Terrance with the others in tow. The three other men stopped when he stopped and flanked him in a circular formation. The man stuck his hand out.