EMP Aftermath Series (Book 1): The Journey Home

by John Winchester

  During her indecision, the choice was taken out of her hands. The tip of a crowbar bit into the door by the lock, and she watched in horror as the wood gave way, the doorframe splintering into pieces just before the door flew open.

  A huge man stood in the doorway, crowbar in hand, shrouded by darkness.

  Danny screamed and ran from the table. Kenny sat unmoving in his chair.

  Amy was frozen in place.

  In the flickering firelight, his eyes seemed lifeless and dark, menacingly inhuman.

  She silently screamed at herself to take action and do something. Amy picked up the fork she'd dropped on the table and hurled it at the man, followed by a knife, her dinner plate, and anything else she could get her hands on.

  The big man held his arms up, guarding his face. The fork hit his arm and went flying off in another direction. The man took a step backwards, into the garage, stumbling on the steps.

  "Get out," she screamed at him.

  "Sorry," he cried out in a deep voice. "Sorry, I didn't know anybody was in here."

  Her cheeks flushed with anger, she ran to the kitchen and snatched a butcher's knife out of the carving block. This was her home! Kenny was only a few feet away from the intruder, vulnerable. She flew into the garage after the man, chasing him with the butcher knife held high.

  The man hurriedly pushed a grocery cart down of the driveway, anxiously looking over his shoulder at her.

  Amy grabbed his coat, and stopped him.

  The man spun around, his hands held up in front of him, eyes wide with fear.

  "Hold on lady! I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was home. I was just looking for some food," he said.

  "Leave him be, he ain't done nothing to you. It was a simple mistake," an elderly woman said, stepping in between the intruder and Amy.

  Kenny came up the driveway, tugging at her shirt, pulling her arm. "Come back inside mom, please," he said.

  Her anger dissipated at the sight of the elderly woman protecting the man. Frail and shaking, she posed no threat.

  "My son was trying to find something to eat for us. He didn't know you were in there," the old woman said.

  The old woman looked at Kenny, a sad smile on her face. "What a handsome young man. Is he your boy? I wouldn't take food away from a beautiful child. I'm sorry your boy has to live through these hard times, it breaks my heart to see it."

  "Come on son, let's leave these people be."

  The man took his cap off, wringing it in his hands, "I'm really sorry about your door. She hasn't eaten in two days, and isn't doing well. Our house burned down in the fires, and we've been staying in the garage of the gas station I work at. I was afraid to leave her all by herself to go look for food. There are some bad people roaming the streets."

  He wasn't a wild eyed, violent intruder with murder on his mind, just a dutiful son trying to find food for his mother. Her boys would do the same for her if the situation were reversed. It had been a simple mistake on his part, driven by desperation.

  "It wasn't your fault, it was dark outside and there were no lights on in the house. You had no way of knowing. I was just so scared when you came through the door. I guess I overreacted. Stay right here for a minute, I'll be right back," Amy said.

  She went to the kitchen and filled a bag with one of the fish filets, and added several cans of potted meat, corn, and greens from the cabinet. It would be enough to last them for a few days at least.

  She approached the man and handed him the bag. "Please, take this. It's all we can spare, but it's something."

  The old woman's eyes sparkled with tears in the dim light moonlight. "Thank you dear, God bless you," she said.

  Kenny came out of the garage, carrying a fishing pole and a small tackle box.

  "Here, take these, we've got extra poles. You can catch your own fish with this. I dug some worms up in the back yard and used them for bait, you can find them all over the place."

  The big man kneeled down, bringing himself eye level. He extended his hand to Kenny and shook his hand, a broad smile on his face. "Thank you. I never thought of fishing. I haven't been fishing since I was a little boy, but it looks like I've got plenty of time to do it now."

  "You go get them children inside now, it's not safe out here after dark. Thank you again for the food," the old woman said.

  Amy gathered Kenny and went back into the house, her chest swelling with pride at Kenny's generosity and thoughtfulness. "That was very nice of you to give that man the fishing pole."

  “Dad always said, give a man a fish and he'll eat for a day, teach him to fish and he'll eat for a lifetime, “Kenny said.

  Amy inspected the ruined doorframe on the way back in the house. She lifted the door back into place, and it closed, but she would have to reinforce it. The door wouldn't hold up if they had another intruder. She looked around the garage for a piece of wood to nail the door shut, and paused in her tracks.

  The Moore house loomed large across the street as she peered through the open garage door. This wasn't the first time an intruder had broken into her home. She shuddered at the memory. Rob was serving time in county jail, or she didn't know what she would do. Leave the house? The journey to retrieve Danny had opened her eyes. There were bad people before the EMP attack... the only thing keeping them in check was the knowledge that innocent people could dial 911 and have a policeman there in minutes. Now there wasn't anything to give the truly wicked pause.

  She nailed a two by four across the door as a temporary fix and joined the boys at the table for supper. She pushed her food around the plate with her fork, her appetite ruined. Finally, she moved across the table where she could sit facing the garage door, unable to shake the feeling that it would burst open at any moment.

  Chapter 19

  Jack lay in his sleeping bag next to a small campfire, shivering despite the heat from the fire, lost in a feverish dream. He drifted somewhere between sleep and awareness, unable to fall completely asleep from the throbbing, aching pain that encompassed his left hand and crept up his arm. Beads of sweat dripped from his feverish forehead. Something tugged at his hand, disturbing the wound and making the dull ache become sharp and intense.

  Jack sat up and opened his blurry eyes, trying to wipe away the confusion that came with the fever. What was going on? He'd been here before, right? He was supposed to be better now that his fever was gone. Wyatt had taken care of him. He was nearly able to convince himself that his was just a nightmare, and that he would wake up soon, but a foul odor filled the air, bringing him to full alertness.

  Wyatt carefully unwrapped the bandages binding his hand, releasing the sickly sweet odor of rotten flesh from his wounds.

  "Oh my word," Wyatt said, gagging audibly.

  "What's happening? What's that smell? I'm freezing," Jack said.

  A hand settled on his shoulder, gently pushing him down onto his sleeping bag again. "Jack, you're burning up with fever. Here, drink this."

  He tilted the bottle up and gulped down cool water, soothing his aching throat. Just as he finished the entire bottle, his stomach gurgled and water rose up in his throat, threatening to come back up.

  "Easy there, take sips, don't gulp it down. Sit back now, and let me finish putting a fresh bandage on," Wyatt said.

  Jack wiped his eyes clear with his good hand, blinking at the double vision of Wyatt. His body ached, and his joints hurt. The hand throbbed with every beat of his heart. It was sweltering hot, yet he shivered with cold. His stomach cried out for food, but he was too sick to eat.

  "Oh good Lord," Wyatt said, pulling the last of the wrappings off of Jack's hand. He tossed the bandages into the fire and walked several feet away into the bushes, gagging as he went.

  Jack's stomach, already queasy, became unsettled at Wyatt's loss of composure.

  Jack stumbled to his feet and made it a few feet away from his sleeping bag before stumbling to the ground, losing it altogether. He doubled over, the motion from vomiting causing his entire arm
throb in pain.

  When the dry heaves finally ceased, he shuffled in a dizzy stagger back to his bed. He pulled the hand up against his body, nursing it under his armpit, afraid to see what the bandage had concealed.

  He forced himself to face the reality, and the sight shocked him. His two crushed fingers were black, fingernails popped off, and the skin split open along the length. The digits were swollen to twice their normal size, as was the left side of his palm where the pallet had crushed. He couldn't see his wedding band on his ring finger anymore, the plain gold circle buried beneath the rotten flesh. The smell was sickening, and he pushed his hand far away from his body to avoid the odor.

  Jack bit down hard, gnashing his teeth, fighting back the urge to heave again.

  Wyatt came back from the bushes, settling down into a squat next to his bed and placed his hand gently on Jack's shoulder. His face was unreadable, but his eyes were full of concern and worry, his voice gentle and pleading.

  "Jack. We have to do something about those fingers. It's been four days, this isn't going to heal on it's own. We have to do something about it."

  "No. No, no, no. This isn't happening. Just take me to a hospital. Take me home. Amy will take care of me," Jack said.

  His feverish mind refused to accept the situation. He wanted to be home, with his family. Would he die here, in some ditch alongside a road in Missouri? Would Amy ever find out what happened to him if he died here?

  "Jack. There are no hospitals nearby. No doctors. We haven't seen another soul for days. Nobody is coming to help you, and I can't carry you out of here and find help in time. We have to do something. The blackness creeping up from your fingers into your arm, that's gangrene. Those fingers have to come off. This fever is hotter than hell, and you're getting sicker. If we don't do something right now, the infection will spread to your heart, and you will die," said Wyatt.

  Jack shook his head weakly. This couldn't be happening. It was wrong. He was supposed to be in Kansas City right now, in an air-conditioned conference room. He should be eating donuts, having coffee, and getting ready to teach his software training seminar.

  "No. No, I'll be all right. Just give me one more day to sleep and I'll be fine."

  "Jack. You will die here. What about your wife and kids?"

  He reached for his wedding band, recoiling in pain as he touched the wound. That gold band gave him comfort when he was on the job, alone in a hotel at night, far from his wife. He would listen to Amy talk on the cell phone, telling him about her day, and he would spin the ring round on his finger, a physical link and reminder of their bond.

  He couldn't see the ring now. The golden sheen concealed from him, hidden by the rotten flesh of his hand. He didn't want to look at the infected fingers any longer. They were just another set of problems that stood between him and his wife, his family.

  How was he supposed to prepare for something like this? He'd never read about this any of this in prepper blogs. Nobody talked about the real things an EMP would take away. Your family and loved ones.

  They only talked about the things that didn't matter, the electronics, and cars, and telephones. None of that crap mattered. The EMP had taken away something much more important. His family, and had stripped away everything he knew. Now it was going to take his life.

  Despair filled him, his energy spent. He couldn't lay here and let himself die, hoping and wishing his hand would heal. After all of the things that had happened to him, all he'd been through to get this far, he couldn't give up. His goal was still the same. He had to go home. He'd come too far to give up now.

  Looking at the black fingers, he stiffened his resolve. He pictured the golden wedding band somewhere under the wound, his only remaining link to his family. The blackened fingers were just another obstacle now, something to be gotten rid of, and something to overcome.

  Jack gnashed his teeth together, his voice ragged and raw. "Do it. Get my ring back. Do whatever it takes."

  Wyatt nodded his head solemnly, the cigarette and perpetual smile missing from his face. "I'll go fetch some water and set it to boiling on the fire while I put together everything I need. I'll give you a couple hours to get some water in your system and rest, you've been passed out for a full day now. I'll let you know when we're all ready."

  Wyatt dug through his red toolbox and pulled out a cloth and a canister, then gathered bandages, cloth, and other tools from around the camp.

  His head ached, and he rested his head back on the sleeping and closed his eyes. His thoughts on his family, he pictured them just as they were when he left for work some weeks ago.

  A firm hand covered his nose and mouth, pushing a noxious smelling cloth over his face.

  Jack struggled to get up, but a strong hand pressed firmly against his chest, holding him down on his sleeping bag. The smell was overpowering. He knew that smell. What was it?

  Panic set in and he tried to lift his sluggish arms to fight Wyatt off.

  Ether.

  Oh, shit. Ether.

  "Sorry Jack. It'll be easier if you don't see it coming," said Wyatt.

  Wyatt's face was the last thing he saw as haze gathered around the edges of his vision, closing in to from a tunnel, then faded to a flat grey sheet. And then sleep.

  Chapter 20

  Amy dragged herself out of bed, squinting at the early morning sunlight beaming through the window. Exhausted, she rubbed her eyes and went down to the kitchen to make a pot of cold press coffee. Cold pressed with powdered creamer wasn't the same as a freshly brewed hot cup, with real milk, but it was better than nothing.

  The boys were already in the kitchen making their breakfast when she got downstairs.

  "Good morning boys, how did you sleep?"

  "OK," said Kenny.

  "All right," Danny said.

  Kenny pulled down three plates from the cabinet, slamming the cabinet shut.

  Danny jumped at the noise, his eyes wide as he looked around the room in a panic.

  "Jumpy much?" his brother asked, giggling. Kenny rolled his eyes and looked at his mother, "Danny thinks the man from last night is going to break down the door again. He didn't go to sleep last night."

  Danny gave his brother a hateful look and ran from the room, bolting up the steps. The sound of his bedroom door slamming shut echoed through the house.

  "Cut him some slack Kenny. You have to remember he's only eleven years old. He isn't equipped to deal with this as well as you are."

  "Sorry mom, I was just teasing him," he said.

  Amy went up the stairs and gently knocked on Danny's door. "Danny? Can I come in?"

  His muffled reply came through the door, "OK."

  Danny sat on his bed, hands in his lap, staring at his shoes.

  Amy sat next to him, brushed his hair out of his face, and wrapped her arm around him.

  "Danny, it's all right to be scared. Can I tell you a secret? Kenny is scared, whether he shows it or not. I'm even a little scared," she said.

  "I want dad to come home, I miss him," he said, leaning his head on her shoulder.

  "I know sweetie, I miss your father too. He will come home, it might take him a long time, but he will come home. I promise you," Amy made a silent prayer, hoping it was true.

  "But shouldn't we go look for him?"

  "Honey, he is a long way away. He would want us to stay here, in our house, where it's safe. If we went looking for him now, he wouldn't know where to find us when he comes home. Trust me, please, when I say he will be back. I know he will. It's dangerous out there all by yourself, and I don't want you running off looking for him by yourself, OK?"

  "All right," Danny said.

  "Come downstairs and eat some breakfast. And ignore your brother, the more you react to him, the more he'll bother you."

  Amy went to the kitchen and sat down to eat the plate of cold pork and beans with Vienna sausages. Kenny's idea of making breakfast for everyone, not what she would have chosen, but since he showed initiative, she would
n't split hairs about what he prepared.

  "Danny, I'm sorry I scared you. I was just trying to get you to lighten up," Kenny said.

  She hated to bring up last night's intrusion again, but they had to talk about it. Amy lay awake all last night, tossing and turning, worried about the flimsy locks on the doors and windows. It was all that separated her and the boys from intruders. That man had broken in all too easily.

  "Boys, I've been thinking about the man breaking in last night. Supplies are running out, and people are getting desperate, they have to come out of their homes looking for food. There will be more of them as time goes on, and as they get hungry, bad people might try to take our food from us. We've been lucky that we haven't run into any bad people yet," she said.