EMP Aftermath Series (Book 1): The Journey Home

by John Winchester

  She watched the sun make its final descent, remarking how much of their daily life revolved around the rising and setting sun now. Early on she read Jack's journals and notes by candlelight. Two hundred tea candles had seemed like an unlimited resource, but they went much more quickly than she had anticipated.

  The hairs on her neck stood on end, and she had the strange sensation of being watched. Amy paused and listened.

  A tattooed arm wrapped around her neck and pulled her backward. Whoever it was reeked of cheap whisky and cigarette smoke.

  "Well, hey there pretty lady. I can't tell you how surprised I am to see you here, what with half the city burnt to the ground and the other half run away. I've been thinking about you, I had a lot of time to do that, thanks to you," the bitter voice said.

  That voice. She recognized that voice. It was the stalker from across the street, Rob. Revulsion filled her, and she clawed at the arm pinning her against him. She struggled and twisted, trying to break free, but he was simply too strong.

  "Stop it! Let me go. Jack is going to kill you," she said.

  His free hand slid down the length of her thigh as he taunted her, whispering in her ear. "Now let's not beat around the bush Amy. I've been watching you for a few days, and old Jacky boy ain't here anymore, and he ain't coming back neither. He's gone for good, just like the rest of them."

  He bent his head, his mouth close to her neck. "With Jack gone, you need a man around the house. Someone to protect you."

  "Get off of me," she said, nausea filling her at his touch.

  Rob let her go, releasing her from his grip, "Go on now. I know you aren't going to go too far from home with them boys inside." He squinted his eyes, running them up and down her body. "You think about what I said. We've both got something the other one wants. I want you, and you want a man to take care of your family."

  Rob bit his lower lip, rubbing his tattooed hand across the stubble on his chin. "I can protect those boys. They need a man to show them how to be tough. The world is a different place now, love. A whole different set of rules."

  She scowled at him, her heart pounding. "The police aren't going to let you harass me. How did you escape from prison?"

  Rob laughed. "I didn't escape. You see, they've got a bit of a problem down at the county jail. It seems that the old warden is running out of prison guards even faster than they're running out of food and water. So they let the little fish like myself go, seeing as how they want to keep all the murderers and rapists locked up. Darling, there are no police anymore. Not enough to matter."

  "I can't believe they'd let someone like you out," she spat. Amy looked to the patio door, wondering if she could sprint the distance to the door before he caught her.

  He circled around her like a predator circling it's prey. "You've got no idea what kind of animals they have locked up in there. Some real scary hombres. Heck, some of them give me nightmares. Hard to believe, isn't it?"

  He continued to circle her, "You don't have to decide right this second. Just consider my proposal."

  Rob stopped behind her, the reek of whisky on his breath. "I am impressed, you keep it in shape Amy. I bet you still run every morning, don't you?"

  The touch of his hand violating her personal space was the sounding gun for her race. Amy dug her foot into the grass and pushed off, sprinting towards the back door. Cursing herself for not strapping a pistol on before she left the house, she ran for the back door.

  If she could make it inside, she could lock the patio door and run into the basement. Would there be enough time to grab the gun cabinet keys and get a gun? Could she load it in time? She was halfway to the patio door now and running out of time. The butcher's knife in the carving block was closer. She could keep him at bay with that.

  "Don't you run from me," Rob yelled.

  Amy hit the patio door running flat out and slid through the door.

  His hand gripped her upper arm, and she was ripped from the house and violently tossed across the patio to the floor.

  Amy hit the ground hard, her elbows and knees taking the brunt of the impact as she hit the concrete. She struggled to get to her feet, her eyes widened with fear as she saw Rob's foot coming towards her.

  He kicked hard, his booted foot catching her in the ribs, knocking the wind out of her.

  "Where are you going Amy? I just came over here to talk. You're going to run away from me?" he yelled.

  She fought for breath, the wind knocked out of her, making a strange noise as she gulped air in a struggle to breathe.

  Rob leaned down, shaking with anger. He grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her up by the hair. "I own you. You are mine now, you stuck up..."

  Her scalp on fire, she kicked her knee upward, her powerful runner's muscles driving her knee right into his chin with a loud crack.

  He released his grip on her hair and fell to the patio. A trickle of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth. Moaning incoherently, he pushed himself up and got to his feet.

  Amy turned to run inside the house and get the butcher's knife from the kitchen, but paused as she saw a more immediate means of defense.

  The boy's sports gear barrel, an old garbage can filled with golf clubs, tennis clubs, whiffle ball bats, and baseball bats sat a few feet away from her by the back door. A bright gleam caught her eye and she reached into the barrel, slipping her hands around the shiny aluminum handle of a Louisville slugger baseball bat. With the bat in hand, she turned to face him.

  He wiped the blood away from his mouth onto his sleeve, sneering at her. "What are you going to do with that?"

  Amy put the bat up over her shoulder, perfect batter's form drilled into her from years of softball practice. The handle held pointed towards Rob, tip in the air, circling, ready to swing. "Get out of here," she said, her voice quivering.

  "I like a little fight in my women, but I'll kill you if you hit me with that," he said.

  Amy fought off the urge to run. There was nowhere to run, and no one to help her. She gripped the bat firmly, standing her ground, ready to swing into him if he as much as flinched.

  Rob came at her, ducking his head low, his arms spread out as he lunged for her midsection in an attempt to throw her to the ground where the bat would be useless.

  She swung, planning to hit him in the midsection as it was the largest target, but he ducked and the bat caught him right in the face. It felt like she hit a steel beam, her hands stinging from the impact. A sickening noise filled the air, and several bloody teeth clinked against the glass sliding door, broken free by the bat.

  He dropped to the ground, his hands over his mouth, body curled into a ball. Rob whimpered and moaned, his feet kicking out in agony.

  Amy stood back, waiting for him to get back up, and then moved back inside the door when he didn't move. She locked the patio door, her heart pounding.

  "Boys! Get down here," she cried out.

  Kenny came flying down the steps, taking them two at a time as he ran to her, "Mom! Are you ok? What happened?"

  Amy struggled to slow down and remain coherent as she spoke. She and Jack had never told the boys about the incidents with Rob, believing it would frighten the boys too badly. She pointed to the patio. "Rob. He's a bad man, he tried to hurt me."

  As if summoned, Rob pounded his fist on the patio door, the glass bowing inward with each blow. His mouth dripped blood, his face out of skew from the bat's blow. His nose bent sharply to the left, his eyebrow smashed and swollen. Bloody black gaps occupied the spaces where his teeth used to be. He screamed in rage.

  "I'll kill you! I'm going to kill you and your brats. I'll be back. I'll be back with friends."

  Amy tightened the grip on her bat, her arms trembling. Could she finish this once and for all? Danny stood just behind her, clinging to her shirt. Not in front of him.

  Rob kicked the sliding glass doors, which shattered under his boot. He took a single step into the house, and then stopped, his eyes going wide with fear.


  Kenny stood just behind her, shotgun in hand. He moved through the broken frame of the patio door and chambered a round, the sound loud and instantly recognizable.

  Rob turned tail and ran flat out from the patio.

  Kenny raised the barrel and shouldered the shotgun, stepping through the broken glass of the patio door. Glass crunched underfoot as he lowered his face to the stock and pulled the trigger.

  The flash from the gun lit up the night as the shot exploded from the barrel.

  Kenny chambered another round and fired into the darkness after Rob again.

  "I'll kill you all," he yelled in the distance, the darkness of the night concealing him.

  Kenny stepped back into the house, feeding shells into the receiver. He handed the gun to her, his face grim.

  "I'll get some plywood from the garage and nail it up over the door," he said.

  "Is that going to be enough to keep him out? What if he comes back tonight?" she asked.

  "He won't come back tonight. You beat the crap out of him mom," Kenny said with a laugh.

  Amy took the gun and kept watch at the patio door. Danny clung to her, sobbing softly.

  "It's OK Danny. We'll be all right."

  Amy stared into the darkness, arm wrapped around Danny, comforting him.

  But would they be all right? Rob was out of prison. He would be looking for revenge now. The pitch-black darkness of the night seemed to press in, harboring unknown threats in its inky depths. There was nothing she could do about Rob right now, she was as disadvantaged by the darkness as he was. They would have to wait for morning, and see what happened.

  Chapter 29

  Jack kneeled on the ground next to Wyatt and put his hand on his shoulder to let him know he was there beside him.

  Wyatt knelt, his head bent before an unmarked marble tombstone, his hands clasped together in prayer. He hadn't moved from the spot for the last hour. Seven days of travel brought them through Ohio to Morgantown, Wyatt's destination. They arrived at the nursing home and learned that his mother had passed away a few days earlier.

  "Wyatt, I'm so sorry. I should have pushed myself harder, maybe we could have gotten here sooner," Jack said. He searched for something to say, something meaningful.

  Wyatt looked up at Jack, grief plain on his face. "We had no way of knowing it was her time. There was nothing we could have done for her even if we had been here. This is no one's fault, not your fault, nor mine. She had a long and happy life. This is simply God's will. He's called her home." Wyatt said.

  Wyatt fumbled with the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, putting a cigarette in between his lips. His hands shook, and the flame went out as he tried to light it.

  Jack took the lighter from him and put the flame to the end of the cigarette.

  Wyatt puffed on the cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke. His eyes red rimmed, he looked tired, worn down from his usual energetic self.

  "It was her time to go. She went peacefully in the night. That much is a relief. After the EMP, I was worried that she would be stuck here alone with no one to care for her. She was surrounded by friends, and the nurses here took good care of her," he said.

  The church's graveyard was small, yet several rows of graves had a fresh pile of dirt covering a recent burial. It seemed unlikely that a church this small would have so many parishioners coming to their final resting place in such a short span. The EMP had even touched the smaller cities and communities.

  Morgantown had avoided many of the problems facing the megacities, but they couldn't escape all of them. Population density was lower than in the larger cities, and they avoided outbreaks of disease, but people were running out of life saving medicines.

  With manufacturing and shipping interrupted, insulin, heart medications, and other critical drugs were scarce. Medical problems that were once easily fixed by a modern hospital outfitted with advanced technology were fatal again. How many people that relied on dialysis were now waiting for their organs to fail?

  Jack felt a twinge of anxiety, his stomach tied in a knot, thankful that his family did not have medical problems more worrisome than seasonal allergies.

  "Why don't you come back to the home Wyatt? Get something to eat and a rest. It's going to get dark out soon," said Jack.

  He stood up and held on to Jack's arm. The pain in Wyatt's blue eyes dug into his soul, tears brimming in the stoic man's eyes.

  "Jack. Go get your family. Go find them, and get them to safety. You've been a wonderful friend to me Jack, and I couldn't have made it here without you," Wyatt said

  He paused, shaking a cigarette loose from his pack. "Jack, there's something I've been meaning to ask you, but it never seemed to be the right time on the road. I'm going to rest here for a while, take some time to come to terms with my mother passing. After that, I'm going to head for the old homestead in the hills. You and your family are welcome to join me. In fact, I was really hoping that you would.

  The farm has everything we'd need to live and prosper. A farmhouse, fields, and orchards. Get your family, and then come back and we can all go together. It will be safe there, and we can start something new. I don't have any blood relatives left now, but Jack, I consider you to be my brother after all we've been through. Please tell me you'll consider it."

  Jack solemnly nodded his head, and tried not to tear up.

  "Wyatt, I'm honored by your offer, you are a true brother. I'll go get my family. We'll come back for you. There isn't any future left in the cities. We'll be back, I promise you," Jack said.

  Wyatt stuck his hand out and shook Jack's hand. The bond between them required no words.

  "Go on now. Time waits for no man. Go find your family, I'll be here when you get back," he said.

  Inside the nursing home, one of the busy nursing assistants stopped her work as he walked in the door, her eyes full of pity. "Mr. Miller, I wanted to offer you the use of our facilities. We didn't have a chance to speak earlier before the pastor broke the bad news to Mr. Ferguson. Our maintenance man hooked the shower up to a water tank, fed by the well. I'm afraid the water pressure is terrible, and we don't have hot water, but it is a shower nonetheless. Anyway, I set a fresh pair of clothes out for you if you want to shower. You can use Ed, or Mr. Canby's room. His family picked him up after the lights went out. It's down the hall, first one to the left."

  "A shower?" Jack was dumbfounded, the concept foreign to him after months of bathing in rivers and lakes.

  The nursing staff had kept the place running even though the power was out, keeping the residents comfortable. In the bathroom, he found a neatly folded washcloth and towel laid out on the counter just like at a hotel. The sweet clean smell of laundry detergent rose to his nose. He picked the towel up and buried his face in the soft fabric, inhaling deeply. He hadn't smelled anything this clean in months. It seemed like an object from another world, something he shouldn't touch with his grubby hands.

  The shower was cold, and he scrubbed away what felt like several pounds of dirt. He was clean though, he felt ... renewed. He caught himself in the mirror, his scraggly beard and unkempt hair unrecognizable as his own. How long it had been since he last shaved? He looked more like an outlaw biker than a software engineer. But he wasn't that anymore, was he?

  Jack took a pair of scissors and trimmed away at the beard until it was reduced to a more respectable and uniform length. Then he filled the sink with water and lathered up a handful of shaving cream. Using short strokes with the disposable razor, he trimmed the edges of the beard.

  A chill ran through him. Whose face stared back at him? He knew he'd lost a lot of weight, his pants hung loosely from his hips, but it was visible even in his face. Gone was the fat, burned away by hard walking, biking, and outdoor living. He felt better than he had since his twenties, and looked it too. The diet of wild greens and squirrel combined with grueling exercise had left behind hard lean muscle.

  Jack pulled on the shirt and pants the nursing assistant left out for him. They we
re a better fit than his old shirt and pants, which were soiled and worn beyond recognition. Picking up his old shirt and pants, a sour smell rose up to his nose. Had he really smelled that bad? No wonder the nurse offered the use of a shower. Jack tossed the clothes into the trash and gathered the rest of his things.

  The nursing assistant rapped lightly on the door, poking her head in. "Oh, my. You startled me, I didn't recognize you all cleaned up. Some of the residents would like to speak with you. They heard about what you did for Wyatt, bringing him all this way to see his mother. Some of the folks here can't get their relatives to travel five blocks to visit on the weekends, so it touched their hearts. Anyway, they were deeply moved, and want to do something to help. Could you see them for a moment before you leave?"