“We were sick of being cooped up, so we thought we'd take a chance,” James said.
“Thought you'd take a chance, huh?” Russell asked.
“That's right,” James said. Everyone else remained silent.
“Mom, I'm hungry,” Paula said, pulling on Christina's shirt.
“Just a minute, honey.”
Russell didn't know what to think of the strange thirteen-year-old before him. She simply wasn't old enough for their cause. Or was she?
“And your vehicles?” Russell asked. “Surely you have vehicles. I mean how the heck did you get way out here in the first place?” He followed his interrogative tone with a laugh and a cough. “Don't mean to put you in the hot seat. I'm just curious. I mean, take our vehicles for instance. We had a truck and a bus, and now neither of them work anymore. Damn EMP.”
It was the first James had heard Russell mention an EMP. However, Russell wasn't being completely honest. The truck did work, and he planned on using it to transfer his militia straight to Capitol Hill. The bus, unfortunately, had broken down long before the EMP strikes. Russell had purchased the truck, a relic from the Vietnam era, from an Army surplus store. It could fit roughly thirty people in the rear cargo bed. Its functional operation was kept under wraps to prevent theft by possible disgruntled recruits.
James took a moment to think of an answer. They could hear several conversations going on inside the tent. It seemed to be bustling inside. “Our cars did work, but not anymore.”
“What happened to them?”
“Easy. We ran out of fuel,” James said.
Russell laughed again and clutched his own sides. “Ah, it all makes sense now. Your group of preppers didn't stock up enough fuel. Someone sure dropped the ball on that one!” He slapped James on the back in a playful manner, startling him. “I'm just messing with you guys. Let's go inside,” Russell said, pulling back one of the tent flaps.
They entered the bright tent, which was illuminated by several encased long bulbs handing from above. Under the lights were two long plastic dining tables, with several bearded men sitting there eating slices of ham and mashed potatoes. Most of them were decked out in camouflage gear and armed with semi-automatic rifles. At the end of the tent sat a makeshift kitchen station where the ham was being cooked and served.
The distinct aroma caused James’s group to stop and breathe in deeply. Russell took notice and stood next to James, speaking in a boastful tone.
“That ham is as good as the day it was cut from the pig,” he said.
“How do you get your food? Do you guys hunt?” James asked, staring ahead.
“Sometimes,” Russell replied. “But you'd be surprised by the shelf-life on some of this military-grade canned meat.”
James wanted to ask Russell if he had been in the military, but he appeared so pale and sickly that James didn't want to put Russell on the defensive. The conversation died out gradually, and before James and the others knew it, all eyes were on them. Russell stepped forward with a smile.
“Gentlemen, meet our guests for the evening.” Russell glanced at them and then back to his men. “They're going to be staying with us for a little while, so I want you to clear out some space in Cabin B.”
James and Mark waved to the men as Christina and Janice looked over their heads, trying to scope out the area.
Russell turned to address James. “We had a new group come here the other week, some college kids. They're eager to fit in as well. You guys would probably get along great with them.”
Paula was disappointed not to see any kids her age anywhere.
“Is this everyone?” James asked.
“Pretty much,” Russell said, waving his third in command, Eli, over. Eli seemed a tad frustrated from having to get up and stop eating, but walked over nonetheless.
“Yes, Russell?” Eli asked.
“Where's Shane and his crew?” he asked.
“I'm not sure. They haven't shown up yet.”
Russell gripped Eli's shoulder, making direct eye contact. “Eli, you're slipping,” he said in a humorous tone. “What do we say when people don't come to dinner?”
Eli thought to himself. The black bandana on his head ended slightly above his eyebrows. “There must be something wrong?”
“Bingo! That's correct; now why don't you check on them and make sure everything is OK. Also tell them that we have some company.”
“Roger,” Eli said, walking off.
Russell then swung around to address James. “Please, grab a plate and get some food. You're welcome to sit anywhere you want. We can continue our conversation after you get some food in your bellies.”
Before they could respond, Russell left the tent, vanishing like a ghost. They had no choice but to remain in the tent and at least introduce themselves.
The men in the tent stared at them with indifference, and it was hard to gauge whether they were welcomed. Mark didn't really want to sit with them but figured it was worth it for a hot plate of food.
James looked at his group and could sense their hesitance. “Come on, everyone, let's eat,” he said.
They followed him to the food service station as they nervously waited to grab a plate and have a bite to eat in the presence of strangers.
Road Blocks
Wednesday September 30, 2020, 11:35 p.m. Macon, GA
Terrance and Tobias had been on the road for roughly an hour after temporarily leaving Milledgeville and the rest of their family behind. Their blue 1977 GMC Chevrolet rumbled down the freeway. The trip to Atlanta and back would take all night. If things went as planned, they would be back in Milledgeville by breakfast, with Richie in tow. That was the idea. The only issue, of course, would be finding Richie and convincing him (again) to join his family at the bug-out house.
Richie was a stubbornly independent seventeen-year-old high school senior who had no intentions of accompanying his family to some house in Milledgeville over a simple power outage. Once Terrance and Christina discovered the national extent of EMP strikes, they were certain that Atlanta was too dangerous a place for Richie to stay without his family. Terrance would go back, find Richie, and force him to come with them. If he insisted on bringing his girlfriend, Gabby, then fine.
A lot more people were walking the roads than when they traveled to Milledgeville a week before. His greatest concern was predators. After the EMP, the roads began serving different purpose. For some, they were paths for foot travel in search of supplies. For others, they were an opportune location from which to attack unsuspecting travelers and steal from them.
Terrance was attentive to possible road hazards and debris as Tobias fell asleep in the front passenger seat. Their headlights could be seen for miles. The van was loud, too. He had tinkered with its 310 horsepower engine many times, trying to tone its rattling down to the lowest decibel. But it was an old engine, and there wasn't much he could do about it. He was just thankful that it ran.
Having an operational van, however, put a giant target on them. It was one thing to drive rural state roads where the main obstacle was to avoid abandoned cars; it was another thing altogether as they got closer to Atlanta. Cities were where everyone was going for assistance. A large migration from surrounding towns to major cities was taking place throughout Georgia, and other states for that matter.
Going to Atlanta following the week-long aftermath of the EMP strikes was insane, but perhaps Terrance was being too paranoid. There had to be some measures in place to sustain law and order. A city couldn't descend into anarchy overnight. There were still police, firefighters, and other emergency responders. There was also the military. He tried to reassure himself.
Maybe they didn't have much to worry about overall. Terrance's mind drifted as he stared at the broken yellow lines in the middle of road, zooming by under the beam of their headlights. He glanced over to Tobias, whose head bobbed up and down in his slumber. It was a humorous sight. Neither of them had a clue that the bug-out house in Milledgeville
was gone.
Tobias was suddenly jostled awake after they drove over some potholes. “Where are we?” he asked in a daze. “Are we almost to Atlanta?”
“Not quite,” Terrance said. “Got some ways to go.”
Tobias looked around and saw nothing but blackness surrounding them. The van's headlights illuminated the road only so far. Terrance's window was cracked open, and the air flowing into the van was cool and brisk. Despite being on a long rural road, they weren't going very fast. The last speed limit sign said 55 MPH. Terrance was going under 45, much to Tobias's bewilderment. Was there anyone around to even care?
Tobias wanted to get back to Atlanta and go back home. It was there, he hoped, that everything would be back to normal. He could see his friends and get back to his life. The further away from Milledgeville they got, the more excited Tobias got. He had no intentions of returning to the bug-out house.
“Why are you driving so slow?” he asked Terrance. “It's going to take us two days at this rate.”
Terrance ignored his son's insolent tone. It had been a pretty tasking week. Terrance cleared his throat and pointed ahead. “See there?” he asked.
Tobias looked ahead and saw nothing at first. The van slowed even more, and then Tobias saw it: a car was stopped directly in their lane. It had no lights, no road markers, and no passengers. Terrance slowly veered into the left lane and passed it.
“That's why I'm driving slow,” Terrance said as he moved back into the right line. “You can never be too careful on these roads, no matter how empty they seem.”
Meanwhile, he kept his eyes open for any intentional barricades. The road could easily be blocked with a few vehicles or even one long tree. Terrance knew not to underestimate the will of people determined to stop something in their path.
“Dad,” Tobias said.
“Yes, son,” Terrance answered, but kept his eyes keenly on the road.
“Once we get home, how are we going to find Richie?”
“Simple, we go to our house first. If he's not there, we go to his girlfriend's house. Your older brother, he's a creature of habit. He's either staying at one place or the other. He's out of food, out of money, and things are getting more dangerous each day. His little week of fun is over.”
“I don’t know about that,” Tobias said.
“Well, I do. I was his age too. He's trying to do things his way, and that's fine, but there comes a time to pull your head out of your ass and do what's right by your family.”
Tobias felt incredulous. Their plan was based on an assumption that Richie would willingly return with them. Then what? And for how long? In his heart, Tobias didn't want to go back to Milledgeville, and he didn't have it in him to convince Richie.
“I just don’t think it’s going to be that easy,” Tobias said.
Terrance jerked the steering wheel slightly and raised a finger in the air with his free hand. “We have our plan, and that's that. This family sticks together, no matter what.”
“I don't wanna go back to the bug-out house,” Tobias blurted. His father looked shocked, and Tobias knew he screwed up. Now his intentions were known.
“You’re only fifteen years old. Let me give you some advice. Sometimes you gotta accept that your parents know better,” Terrance said with his voice rising.
“Ah, bullshit,” Tobias said.
Terrance glared at Tobias, ready to pull the van over.
“Look out!” Tobias shouted.
Terrance looked ahead. A blurry figure stood directly in their immediate path. Terrance slammed on the brakes. The wheels locked and skid against the pavement. Tobias flew forward, stopping inches from the dashboard as his seatbelt gripped him tightly. The figure outside smacked into the grill and flew forward ten feet down the road, near the grass. They heard a loud thud against the van as it came to a screeching halt.
Within a matter of seconds, they were idling in the middle of the road. The smell of burnt rubber flowed into the van. Tobias loosened his grip on the dashboard and leaned back, breathing heavily. Terrance's hands were wrapped tightly around the steering wheel as his foot held the brake pedal down.
“You all right?” he asked Tobias.
“Yeah, I guess.”
Terrance still had no clue what they had hit but got a good idea from what lay ahead. They saw the contorted body of a man, face first in the grass. His legs were sticking out into the road. He was a man of average size, and had on a jacket, blue jeans, and sneakers. A red hat lay only a few feet away from him, in the middle of the road.
There wasn't any visible blood near the man or on the road, but Terrance knew from the sound of the hit that the man either died on impact or was seriously injured. Silence permeated the van after the initial shock. For sure, something had just happened, but nothing about it seemed real. Maybe it was a dog or a deer. Unfortunately, it was all too clear that what they had hit was a man. Terrance shifted the van into drive and coasted closer ahead to investigate. He stopped near the legs of the man and squinted to get a better look.
Against his better judgment, Terrance parked the van and opened the door, leaving the headlights on. “Let's check it out,” he said solemnly.
Tobias’s face was flushed with panic. “Did we...is he dead?” he asked.
“I don't know. That's what we're going to find out,” Terrance answered.
“We have to get him to a hospital,” Tobias said.
Terrance raised a hand in the air, signaling calmness. “I love you, son, but for now, just shut up.”
Tobias didn't say another word as they exited the van. The headlights shined directly on the man, creating a shadow effect against the road. Terrance's boots crunched against the pavement with each step. He looked around and didn't see any cars or people in the distance. Aside from the idling engine of the van, everything was quiet. A glistening tool on the road quickly got his attention, and Terrance believed it belonged to the man. It was a stainless steel revolver with a four-inch barrel and plastic hand grip. It was a nice gun, and Terrance considered taking it. But he decided that they needed to attend to the man first.
Terrance walked up and knelt next to the still body, looking for any signs of life. He lifted up the man's other sleeve and felt for a pulse. A few moments of silence followed as Terrance held his fingers below the man's wrist.
“Well?” Tobias said, after growing impatient.
“I've got something,” Terrance said. “It's faint, but it's there.”
“So he's alive?” Tobias asked.
“Just barely,” Terrance said. They still had yet to see the man's face. It was too risky to move him. They weren't paramedics. Terrance stood up in heavy thought, but nothing came to mind.
“We could carry him to the van. I'll grab one end and you get the other,” Tobias said, with enthusiasm.
Terrance glanced back to the revolver in the road when he was struck by a deep suspicion. As he knelt down to retrieve the gun, a theory formed in his mind. The mysterious man, who had only moments ago become acquainted with their front bumper, was not an innocent victim.
“He was trying to steal our van,” he said, holding the revolver. He opened the chamber to discover it fully loaded with .45 ammo.
“What are you talking about?” Tobias asked.
“Either that, or he was trying to commit suicide. This was no accident. Animals get hit by accident. They get startled and run out into traffic. But a grown-ass man? No, a man doesn't run in front of a moving van and not see it coming. He got hit because he deserved to get hit.”
“We can't just leave him here,” Tobias said.
“What are we going to do, call an ambulance?” Terrance asked.
“We load him in the van and take him to the nearest hospital,” Tobias answered.
“He's a goner, you see that?” Terrance said.
“You're asking me to be, like, an accomplice in a hit and run,” Tobias said. “How can you ask me to do that?”
“Quit being so damn overdra
matic,” Terrance began.
Tobias cut him off. “Just because we got hit with by EMP doesn't mean there aren't any laws anymore. You can't just run people over and leave them to die.” Tobias then followed with an ultimatum. “Or you can count me out of the whole trip.”
Terrance stammered and paced in frustration. Tobias knelt down and tried the man's pulse again. It was gradually settling. He counted eighty-five beats a minute. The normal pulse for any healthy adult ranges from sixty to one hundred beats per minute. Tobias observed the man's back steadily rising and falling. He seemed in a much better state than Terrance had described. There was only one thing left to do: roll the man over on his back. Tobias considered the possibilities. The man had been hit by a large van traveling at roughly 40 MPH. He probably had broken some bones, but he was alive.
Terrance didn't get all the fuss over some stranger, but he saw no point in arguing with Tobias anymore.
“Go ahead and open the back doors to the van,” Terrance said.
Tobias jumped up, ran off, and swung open the double doors.
Terrance stared down at the man at his feet in contempt. “You son of a bitch. If I don't get to Atlanta in time, you’re gonna wish you were dead.”
Tobias came back, eagerly awaiting instructions. Terrance pointed to the man's head. “Stand at his head, kneel down, and lift him up under his arms. I'll grab his feet. Just wait until I count off.”
“OK,” Tobias said. He knelt down and locked his hands together over the man's chest.
Terrance bent down and lifted up the man's ankles. “All right, ready?”
“Yep.”
“One, two, three.”
On three, they lifted and awkwardly shuffled to the rear of the van. Terrance instructed Tobias to pull the man in head first. They got him halfway in when Tobias jumped inside and pulled him in completely. After some grunts and heaves, they had the man in the van ready for transport. Tobias jumped out and Terrance closed the door. They looked at each other for a moment, not sure what to say.
“When did you become such a pain in the ass?” Terrance asked.
Tobias had nothing to say in return, but for some reason the comment made him smile. They jumped back into the van and continued down the road in search of the nearest hospital.
End Days Super Boxset Page 193