The Blackout Series (Book 2): Zero Hour

by Bobby Akart

  She tried to steady her nerves despite the distraction of Mrs. Andrews’s crying. Faber understood the need for the widow to lash out following the death of her husband, but this was not the time. To avoid an unfortunate accident, Faber relieved Mrs. Andrews of her handgun for everyone’s protection, including her own. Faber didn’t want to get shot by the distraught woman.

  The last vehicle in the caravan started up, and the men jumped in as it pulled away. Immediately, Faber became comfortable with the new target—the Buick’s tires. Using her scoped Remington 700 target rifle, she fired two rounds and flattened the left-side tires.

  From her right, the explosion of a shotgun rang out, killing the driver. The remaining men inside the vehicle returned fire, but they simply shredded the oak trees. They were trapped, and the neighbors at the Lynnwood intersection began to close in, indiscriminately firing into the Buick. After a steady barrage of gunfire, the occupants of the Buick were dead.

  To her left, more volleys pelted the brick façade of the house next door. A scream could be heard, and then she saw the body of one of the residents roll down the concrete steps onto the driveway. An arm shot up above a hedgerow and fired into the air, striking the oak trees thirty feet in front of them. The scene resembled a firefight in the streets of Syria aired on the nightly news—gunmen using the stick the weapon around the corner and let her rip technique. It was a waste of ammo. And it gave away the shooter’s position. The hedgerow was no match for the return fire from one of the COBRAs’ AK-47s. At least thirty rounds peppered the boxwoods, instantly killing the man behind them.

  Suddenly, the M35 roared to life and lurched forward. Bullets pelted the steel frame, but it continued. Faber fired three shots in an attempt to take out the tires, but missed her mark. Across the street, she saw Ryman and Wren give chase. Wren maneuvered his way through the trees toward the remaining car, which was stalled in the road.

  Sunnybrook Drive was littered with bodies, but the M35 was making an escape with a driver and four men, who continued to pour rounds into the trees on both sides of Sunnybrook.

  Across the street, Ryman worked his way through the trees, dodging gunfire that embedded into the trunks. Faber decided to join the fray. They were trying to escape and appeared to be headed for the back side of Harpeth Hall. She had to keep them in the kill zone. More importantly, she couldn’t see the leader—Viper Rex. He can’t get away!

  Chapter 35

  DAY TWELVE

  Early Afternoon, September 20

  Sunnybrook Drive

  Belle Meade, Tennessee

  When Colton heard the big diesel engine fire up, he knew the M35 and Viper Rex were trying to escape. Colton inserted a full magazine into his Sub 2000 and instructed Wren to do the same with his handgun. Wren would make sure the stalled Caddy was secure and its pinned-down occupants were dealt with while Colton chased the head of the snake—Viper Rex.

  To avoid being shot, a person dodged, took cover, and hid from the attacker. At the same time, a moving person was a difficult target to hit and was a terrible shot when returning fire. When taking cover, the idea was to remain behind something solid that would stop incoming bullets. Despite finding concealment, a person was still vulnerable to enemy fire, but decreased the chance of getting shot.

  Colton made his way to the protective cover of an oak tree while Wren distracted the remaining COBRA marauders with several rounds of suppressive fire. Then it was Colton’s turn to open fire on the attackers. When they ducked for cover, Colton shouted, “Move,” indicating it was safe for Wren to break his cover position and run behind a tree. It was important for each man to maintain his suppressive fire while the other was on the move.

  The two alternated this tactic as Colton raced toward the east in chase of Viper Rex and Wren moved to finish off the remaining two gunmen in the Cadillac.

  A loud screech came from the area where the M35 turned down a narrow drive near the back of the Harpeth Hall complex. Curse words were emitted in all directions as the M35, overly broad for the driveway, got stuck between two trees. The driver and the passenger were wedged in.

  Three gunmen jumped from the back of the truck and opened fire on the six members of the HPA to Colton’s right. Viper Rex hoisted himself over the left side and, after looking in all directions, began running through the side yard of the home toward the rear of Harpeth Hall.

  Colton noticed Viper Rex was limping. He was wounded. With the COBRA men preoccupied to the right, Colton sprinted across the street in pursuit of his prey.

  A shot rang out from his immediate left, startling Colton, which caused him to stumble and fall to the ground, bloodying both elbows. The driver’s side window of the truck shattered, and blood exploded on the inside of the windshield. Colton looked over and saw Faber reload her rifle. She joined his side.

  “You okay, cowboy?” asked Faber, who kneeled down and kept her rifle ready. “There’s easier ways to take cover, you know.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” said Colton as he dusted himself off. He instinctively ducked as bullets shattered the rear window of the M35’s cab, killing the passenger. “Should we go after him?”

  “There are lots of things to consider,” started Faber, speaking louder as gunfire continued a hundred feet to their rear. “Does he have reinforcements? Do you know anything about the layout of the campus or the insides of the buildings?”

  “I know enough to know this,” replied Colton, “if we don’t take him out, he’ll be back with a vengeance.”

  “We could be running into the viper’s nest.”

  “A wounded one, however. He was limping when he ran through the yards.”

  “Lead the way, boss!” said Faber.

  Colton had toured the Harpeth Hall campus six years ago when they were making a decision about Alex’s school. Naturally, the tour consisted of the most well-known buildings like Souby Hall, the Carell Library, and the Patton Visual Arts Center.

  “This is just a hunch, but let’s try the gymnasium first,” started Colton. The two jogged through the trees until they found the parking lot for the Alumni Relations building. “The gym would have locker rooms, medical facilities, and food concessions.”

  “I’ll watch our backs. Let’s go.”

  “Follow me. We’ll take this path here to the rear of the gym.”

  The two methodically made their way down a sidewalk through the woods. Viper Rex could be armed and waiting for them behind the thick underbrush or one of the hundred-year-old oaks. Colton walked heel to toe in an attempt to conceal the sound of his feet on the paved walkway.

  The sounds of gunfire on the other side of the woods began to dissipate, which allowed Colton to hear the sound of a door closing up ahead. He stopped and immediately dropped to one knee, wincing from the earlier scrape.

  “The rear door to the gym just closed. If he suspects we’ve trailed him, he’ll be waiting for us. Are you sure you wanna do this?”

  “What if I say no?” asked Faber.

  “I’m goin’ in without you,” replied Colton boldly.

  “Let’s not waste any time. Go!”

  Colton raced across the loading dock area and made his way to the rear fire exit. He gave Faber another look and nodded. She drew her sidearm and nodded back.

  “Blood,” said Colton, pointing at the ground.

  Colton flung open the door, and the two entered the dark hallway in a low crouch. Colton helped the door close slowly. If the light spreading down the hallway didn’t draw attention, he didn’t want the slamming door to give away their presence.

  Faber found Colton and whispered, “Stop and close your eyes for a moment. Then open them briefly and close them again. This will help your eyes adjust to the darkness.”

  They heard a crash coming from within the gym. Suddenly, a lantern illuminated the space. Colton and Faber pressed their backs against the wall and listened. Someone was groaning. Then the ripping sound of an adhesive tape being unwound could be heard.

  Colto
n whispered, “He’s been shot. Probably the leg. Follow me.”

  They inched along the wall until they reached the opening to the gym. To their left and right were temporary bleachers, which could be moved on large caster wheels. The basketball court was filled with gym mats and pillows. Folding chairs and tables were set up throughout the building. This was where they slept.

  Colton looked through the bleachers and saw Viper Rex sitting on the front row of the permanent seats. His leg was outstretched and bleeding profusely. He’d cut his pants leg off and was in the process of bandaging his gunshot wound to the upper thigh, using a tee shirt and duct tape.

  His groans masked the sound of Colton and Faber’s approach. Using hand signals, Colton sent Faber to the far end of the gym to take a position with a clear line of sight to the head of COBRA. Colton moved behind the scorekeeper’s table located at the center of the court.

  He glanced to his left and saw that Faber was just about in position, getting ready to train her rifle on the target. Colton could’ve opened fire from his position fifty feet away, but he had something to say first.

  “You’re a real piece of work, pal,” said Colton calmly across the empty gym.

  Caught by surprise, Viper Rex scrambled for his handgun and dove under the first-row seating. He responded angrily, “Shut up! My men will be back here any minute to put you in the grave!”

  “Doubt it.” Colton laughed. “They’re all dead. That blood is on your hands.”

  Viper Rex was kicking at the lantern with his good leg, attempting to turn off the light. He couldn’t reach it.

  Colton continued. “Let me guess. You prefer to live in the shadows—do your dirty work under the cover of darkness. You’re a big man when you’re surrounded by guns and mean-looking thugs.”

  “Shut your mouth, or I’ll shut it for you!” He fired several rounds wildly into the air, one of which struck the scoreboard over Colton’s head, raining shards of glass onto the bleachers behind him.

  Colton wasn’t done. “Every despot has a false cause to rally his criminal buddies around. You let your racist beliefs cause the deaths of every one of those men out there. You call yourself King of the Vipers. You’re nothing more than a criminal, low-life piece of crap.”

  “Shut up!”

  “You spew all this hatred, demanding atonement and justice, when you’re surrounded by people willing to die for you. Let’s see what you’re made of. Crawl out from behind your phony name, Viper Rex, you disgraceful coward, and accept your justice!”

  BOOM!

  The gunshot reverberated off the walls. The bullet found its mark. Justice was served to Viper Rex—by his own hand.

  Chapter 36

  DAY THIRTEEN

  Noon, September 21

  HPA Meeting House

  Trimble Rd. & Lynnwood Blvd.

  Belle Meade, Tennessee

  Colton was evolving into something he’d never imagined—a killer without compunction. How could he reconcile taking another man’s life with his faith? It has been said that there are no atheists in foxholes. Facing mortal danger had brought many men to prayer. In the aftermath of battle, even those with the strongest faith could become spiritually broken.

  A memorial cemetery was created on the vacant lot across from the HPA meeting house. Some of the residents uprooted a white picket fence and transplanted it around the gravesites. Makeshift headstones were created out of scrap plywood and paint. They weren’t granite, but were made with love and appreciation nonetheless.

  Colton fought back a wave of emotion as he performed the eulogy for the seven brave men who’d lost their lives the day before on Sunnybrook Drive. He tried to provide comfort for the loved ones these brave men left behind. In the process, he grasped for answers to his own questions.

  “Nothing in the ordinariness of life can prepare us for the death of our family and friends. Most of us lived in the safety of our homes and careers before the collapse. We’d become desensitized to tragedies suffered by others because they were never dropped at our doorstep. Now, we’ve all experienced the horror of war.

  “All of us realize, when we wake up in the morning, we never know what’s going to happen that day. Prepare to be tested again. Don’t take for granted the ones you love. Use the graces and the strengths provided by your faith, because you never know when they’ll be challenged next.”

  Colton wiped away the tears. Before he arrived this morning, he’d returned to Mrs. Abercrombie’s home and retrieved a picture of her deceased husband off the wall. Within the matted frame was a poem. Although it was often used for the funerals of soldiers who gave their lives in defense of our freedoms, Colton considered it appropriate for these brave men who died defending the safety of every one of their neighbors.

  “I would like to conclude with a few words inspired by another of our neighbors who fought for our freedoms.”

  Colton closed his eyes. Racing through Colton’s mind were the bodies he’d buried in the last two weeks. Then he thought about the deaths of his grandfather and his parents and how much he missed them. He needed fortitude to continue, so he asked God for strength.

  When he opened his eyes, he looked directly at the tearful faces of Madison and Alex. The only things that mattered stood right in front of him. He’d ask for forgiveness, and he’d reconcile the killings as a necessary evil to protect the ones he loved. But he would never stop loving and protecting them.

  Colton took a deep breath and read the poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye.

  Do not stand at my grave and weep.

  I am not there, I do not sleep.

  I am a thousand winds that blow.

  I am the diamond glints on snow

  I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

  I am the gentle autumn rain.

  When you awaken in the mornings hush,

  I am the swift uplifting rush

  of quiet birds in circled flight,

  I am the soft stars that shine at night.

  Do not stand at my grave and cry,

  I am not there, I did not die.

  “Rest in peace my friends, and may God be with you. Amen.”

  Chapter 37

  DAY THIRTEEN

  3:00 p.m., September 21

  Ryman Residence

  Belle Meade, Tennessee

  After two weeks, the neighbors began to embrace their mortality and the inevitable future. Most of them had reached a turning point in which they’d adopted a survival mind-set or they’d accepted their fate. Emotions were taken out of the decision-making process. In a calm, retrospective way, they were choosing life or death. The path his neighbors followed was personal to them and their situation.

  Rusty and Karen Kaplan stopped by the Rymans’ home to say their goodbyes. Like the Youngs before them and so many other neighbors after yesterday’s confrontation, they’d determined the neighborhood was no longer safe.

  “Rusty, I’m not gonna try to talk you out of this because I understand where you’re coming from,” started Colton. “But the feedback I’m receiving from folks is not good. The FEMA facilities are a mirage. They’re nothing more than a massive warehousing effort by the government to get us off the streets while they try to restore order to the city.”

  Rusty symbolically handed Colton the keys to their home, effectively ending the debate. Karen looked at Colton with a look of defeat and resignation. It was the same look he’d received this afternoon during the burial and the brief meeting of the HPA afterward.

  “I’ve heard the rumors too, Colton,” said Rusty. “During the … well, yesterday, one of the neighbors returned from 100 Oaks severely beaten. He got into a brawl over food rations. It’s been said the personnel running these camps are hoarding food for their cronies. Those who don’t play ball, like the fella yesterday, get transferred to a more secure FEMA Camp on Old Briley Parkway that has supposedly been in place for years.”

  Colton pleaded his case. If they left, his block of Harding Place would be abandoned
except for his family. “I know. I’ve heard those rumors too. I wish you guys would please reconsider. We’ve established perimeter security. More people are armed now. Despite our losses, I think I’ve developed some comradery among the neighbors that we didn’t have before. We can bind together and get—”

  “It’s better for us to go there and have a chance than stay here and get killed,” interrupted Karen. “Tell Madison and Alex goodbye. I’m sure we’ll all be back together soon enough. Let’s go, Rusty.”

  She started to pull Rusty’s arm to leave, but he smiled and stopped to shake Colton’s hand. “It’ll get better soon. Hold down the fort until we get back.”

  Colton bit his tongue—until it bled! Hold down the fort? He was furious with Rusty. Yesterday, he’d risked his life and seven men had died attempting to protect all of the neighbors, including those who didn’t participate—like Rusty Kaplan. Now he was asking Colton to continue to risk his life for the Kaplan Fort. If everybody is leaving, what was the point of yesterday?

  Colton handed the keys back to Rusty. “Be careful. I have my only family and fort to look after and protect. Here, you keep the keys to your fort.” Colton turned and walked back towards his house, utterly disgusted.

  Chapter 38

  DAY THIRTEEN

  5:00 p.m., September 21

  Ryman Residence

  Belle Meade, Tennessee