EMP Lodge Series Box Set | Books 1-6

by Hamilton, Grace

  Megan continued to wipe gently down Caitlin’s arms. She put bandages on the deepest cuts more out of habit than actual necessity. Once she was finished, she covered her with the light blanket neatly folded at the foot of the bed. She didn’t want to spike her fever inadvertently by trying to keep her too warm. It was a mistake she’d made more than once already and had learned her lesson.

  Megan quickly wiped away the blood on her own arms, wincing as the numerous cuts and scratches were pulled. Finger combing her thick black hair, she watched as pine needles and leaves dropped harmlessly to the floor. With her daughter tucked away, the adrenaline that had pushed her to keep going was fading fast.

  Megan’s legs felt like jelly and her arms were so weak, the bowl of water was too heavy to lift. She set it down on the bedside table and reached for her pack. Pulling out the bottle of water, she took a long drink. She used her fingers to dab some on Caitlin’s lips. Pouring the water down her throat would only result in her choking.

  Exhaustion was setting in fast. Most of the day yesterday had been spent caring for her daughter. Caitlin had complained of being thirsty no matter how much she drank. It wasn’t long before she was vomiting and complaining of a stomachache. Megan had chalked it up to a tummy bug. They hadn’t been eating exactly healthy and sleeping outside on cold nights probably didn’t help.

  Throughout the night, Caitlin progressively got worse. She kept talking to her dad, who was not in the room. She was convinced she was watching television and giggled at her favorite shows. They hadn’t been able to watch TV in three months. Megan knew her baby was delirious, but had no idea how to help her.

  The guilt Megan felt for dragging her daughter into the forest in the first place was overwhelming. When the group of men who’d referred to themselves as “The New Order” had invaded their small town, Megan refused to join. She wanted nothing to do with hurting others, stealing and God knew what else those people were doing.

  Some of the few survivors in the area had agreed to follow the rules. The men didn’t only take food and water as payment for the so-called protection and security they offered. They were taking people. Any young man capable of fighting was turned into expendable soldiers and several teenage girls had disappeared. While Megan had assumed they were being raped and abused, no one was talking but the screams and cries in the night were enough to set her imagination into overdrive.

  The sad thing was they thought they were doing something good. They actually thought they were following some new, magnanimous leader who would take care of them. From what she’d been told by others, this new leader was nothing short of charismatic but Megan wasn’t interested in lies and deception. They were all alike. It was like watching sheep led to the slaughter. She didn’t trust anyone and certainly not some faceless person who had minions doing all his dirty work. Megan’s instinct and general distrust had kept her from joining.

  Megan was not about to stick around to see what would happen and she decided to get out while they could and they’d been on the move ever since taking refuge in abandoned homes, barns and even under the cold night sky. Running for almost a week now, in the last day, Caitlin had grown extremely weary and lethargic, which meant Megan had to carry her. Now, she could feel the day’s physical and mental strain weighing her down.

  She was going to lie down and rest with Caitlin for a few minutes so she could think straight and give her over-tired muscles a chance to relax; something she’d been unable to do for several days. She would close her eyes for a bit and then figure out what to do next.

  Megan crawled onto the bed and pulled her daughter in close. “I love you, baby. I promise I’ll help you get better. You rest for now. Mommy’s here,” she whispered.

  Given the lateness of the day, even if the cabin wasn’t abandoned, Megan didn’t think anyone would show up after dark. Without foot trails, it would be near impossible to make the trek through the forest without daylight. She only needed one night and hopefully, Caitlin would start showing signs of getting better tomorrow. In the meantime, the bed really was comfortable and it’d been too long since they had a dry place to sleep. What could one night hurt?

  3

  Wyatt Morris crept into the house with his Glock 17 leading the way. When they’d arrived back at the cabin, they’d found the back door had been busted in, putting his senses on high alert at the thought of someone inside. He gestured to his younger brother, Jack, to stay quiet.

  They were expecting looters at some point and that time was apparently now. Long before the EMP, Wyatt and his father had done their best to make the house look empty and abandoned, hoping to deter any squatters who found their way to the cabin. They’d worked too long and too hard to build this place up to make it into the safe retreat his family needed. He wasn’t going to let anyone take it from his family. Especially not now.

  The cabin and all of the preps concealed in and around it were a labor of love for him and his father. This was the place they were all going to live out their days when the shit hit the fan. Unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned and now they were forced to improvise without his dad.

  Jack grabbed his wife’s arm. “Take Ryland and hide,” he told her quietly.

  Willow nodded and used her eyes to direct her twelve-year-old son to follow her. Wyatt and Jack’s mom, Rosie, heard her son and quietly followed them into the thick trees that surrounded the lodge.

  Wyatt had created a blind beyond the backyard as a designated area for them to hide should intruders show up. He’d hung a large burlap cover with a camouflage print between two trees creating a small space between the rocky hillside and the house. Over time, small bushes had grown in front of it further masking the safe zone. When you stood at the back door and looked straight ahead, it looked like part of the hillside and trees.

  The blind allowed them to stay out of sight should potential looters arrive in numbers greater than their own. While now more than ever, having enough was a matter of survival, it wasn’t worth losing another family member. Wyatt had tried to make it look like the place had already been looted by tossing more trash around and littering the area with broken glass to sell the story.

  Behind the boards, the windows were intact. He only wanted the cabin to appear looted and abandoned. If someone did get in, they wouldn’t find anything; everything was carefully concealed. Once the would-be bandits realized there was nothing there, they would leave and the family could go back to whatever it was they’d been doing. That had been the plan, anyway, Wyatt thought to himself.

  Wyatt designated himself as the one to enter the cabin, with his younger brother standing guard outside. The door had something blocking it. Not a problem considering Wyatt had the keys to the front door. It seemed silly to carry around keys nowadays, but it was a habit and a locked door could be enough deterrent to keep some of the less aggressive looters out.

  He instructed their friends, Chase and Albert, to stay at the back while he and Jack went around to the front. He slowly opened the solid wood door, being careful not to trigger the alarm he’d set. A stick sharpened to a point was duct taped to the top of the door on the inside. A balloon was taped to the wall. When the door opened wide enough, it would cause the stick to pop the balloon. It was something he and Jack had done as kids all the time. Now, the silly prank served as their front door alarm.

  Using hand gestures, he motioned Jack to go upstairs while he searched below. He walked through the house, not making a sound. His Navy SEAL training kicked in and he carefully went about clearing what would be Albert and Chase’s room cringing slightly as he heard his brother shuffling around upstairs. When he walked into his own room, he was stunned by what he found.

  A woman and child were sleeping in his bed.

  Wyatt took a few seconds to evaluate the situation. The child was clearly not well. Her face was unnaturally pale and the area around her eyes was black. A woman lay curled around the little girl in a protective gesture, even in sleep. He couldn’t see m
uch of her features, but he judged her to be in her late twenties or so. He imagined she must be the girl’s mother; the resemblance was plain to see. They both had hair as black as night and the same dainty features.

  He heard loud footsteps behind him and spun around. Jack was approaching and he wasn’t exactly stealth.

  “Shhh,” he said turning to his brother.

  It was too late. The woman on the bed was awake. She looked mad, scared and fierce all at the same time. She stared at them with wide, brown eyes. Scratches and bits of dried blood marred what he expected was perfectly smooth skin on her face. Her black hair was a tangled mess with little bits of birch tree seeds and other foliage mixed in.

  Wyatt took in the rest of her appearance. She’d clearly had a rough time of it judging by the rips in her cargo pants. Her overly large gray t-shirt was threadbare. Despite her roughshod appearance, she was stunning. Her shapely arms revealed she was muscular, but not overly so. The woman was not a wilting flower; he could see that by the look of defiance on her face.

  Wyatt held up his hands in a universal sign of surrender. “We aren’t going to hurt you,” he stated slowly and calmly.

  She stared at his brother who was still pointing the gun at her. One raised eyebrow was all she needed to do to question his statement.

  “Jack, put the gun away,” Wyatt said in frustration.

  Wyatt turned back to the weary woman watching them. “Look, we aren’t going to hurt you,” he paused, holstering his own weapon. “But, you’re in our house, in our bed, so, well, you need to tell us who you are.”

  His natural instinct was to protect a woman, especially a woman who was clearly on her own. The fact she had a young, sick child with her sealed the deal. He wasn’t going to hurt her or kick them out. Call him chivalrous, but he wasn’t about to send a woman and child off to fend for themselves. Not in this new world. His dad would never do something so harsh and he wanted to be like the man who gave his life for his family.

  The woman opened her mouth, but quickly snapped it shut. It took about two seconds for Wyatt to figure out why.

  “Who is she?” came a harsh voice from behind Wyatt.

  Before he could answer Albert, there was another voice, much more serious. “Did you check her for weapons?”

  Wyatt sighed; they weren’t making the best first impression.

  “Chase, Albert, can we give the woman a chance to explain herself before we drag her in front of the firing squad.”

  Wyatt winced when he heard the sharp intake of breath from the woman he’d inadvertently threatened as she shifted her body to protect her child. His mother always lectured him about his heavy use of sarcasm. It was a character flaw. One that he only remembered he was supposed to be working on in times like these.

  He turned back to apologize. She’d stood and was now stalking towards him, with no sign of fear.

  She stopped about six inches from him, pulled her perfect, petite shoulders back and ripped into him.

  “My name isn’t important. Clearly, you Neanderthals were never taught common courtesy or human decency. For you to actually threaten a woman and her obviously ill daughter is despicable.”

  Wyatt took an involuntary step back as she pressed forward. He stepped on Jack’s foot, who was also trying to get out of the way of the slight woman bearing down on them. He knew he needed to gain control of the situation and fast but the woman appeared to be breathing fire as she came at them.

  She didn’t give him the chance.

  “Don’t you worry about checking me for a weapon.” She pointed a finger at Chase. “Unlike you, I don’t need to wave a gun about to scare people. Does that make you feel more like a man? Does it make you feel powerful?”

  Wyatt knew there was a domino effect happening. Jack, Albert and Chase had all lined up behind him to get into the room. With every step the woman advanced, he was stepping backwards to avoid hurting her. If he didn’t stop his retreat, they were all going to fall on their butts.

  He started to speak again. He wasn’t going to let her cut him off.

  Squaring his shoulders and speaking with as much confidence as he could gather. “I’m sorry. I, we, aren’t going to hurt you.”

  Her nostrils flared and he realized he offended her again—somehow. “I mean, we aren’t like that. We,” he stammered. “I mean, am not like that. We aren’t,” he said in a pleading tone.

  So much for confidence, he chided himself. He’d turned into a blubbering idiot that wasn’t making any sense.

  Her eyes became small slits and he could feel her looking him over. It was unnerving. It was exciting. It was completely brazen, and if he was being honest with himself, he loved it. It’d been too long since he experienced the excitement of meeting an attractive woman who showed any kind of interest in him. This interest may be a little on the negative side, but he could see she was passionate.

  Passionately hating him, but passion was passion. He grinned, which earned him a scowl from her.

  Once she was finished with a very thorough inspection, she looked him straight in the eyes. “We will leave. Tell your little army to back off.” She sneered at Jack. “Stand down, big boy. This big, bad lady means you no harm.”

  Wyatt wanted to laugh at the woman who was probably only a little over five feet tall. He actually had to bend his head down to look at her from his six foot one inches above. His little brother was a couple inches shorter than he was. And Chase, well Chase had often been referred to as the Green Giant throughout high school after he had shot up their sophomore year and hadn’t stopped growing. Chase had several inches on him.

  He felt the guys stiffen behind him and looked over his shoulder to see his mother push her way past Chase and Albert glaring at the group of them.

  “Boys, go take care of that door,” grumbled a clearly irritated Rosie as she looked pointedly at their friends. “Wyatt, Jack, you know better,” she said stepping into the room. Wyatt flinched when he heard his mother’s tone. He was thirty-four, but it didn’t mean his momma didn’t scare him at times, especially when she used her no-nonsense tone.

  Rosie marched right over to the opposite side of the bed and sat down. She put her hand out to feel the little girl’s head. She wasn’t the least bit bothered by the woman who was staring her down.

  “My name is Rosie Morris. The first two Neanderthals,” she smiled when she said the word. “Those two are my boys. The grumpy old guy in the back is Albert and the one who wants to shoot everyone is Chase.”

  Wyatt watched his mom break down all the walls the woman had erected around her. She seemed to soften right before his very eyes.

  “I’m Megan Wolford,” she said in a much calmer voice than she spoke to him with. He was only a little offended.

  “Ryland and Willow are waiting outside. I imagine Ryland will be thrilled to have another kid to hang out with.” While Rosie talked, she’d pulled the blanket from the little girl and was looking her over. Jack took that as his cue to leave and quickly went to find his wife and son.

  Wyatt decided it was best to leave his mom alone to do what she did best—mother, nurture and heal. He turned and used his head to silently gesture to the rest of his group to leave. They did so and he gently closed the door behind him.

  4

  Megan studied the woman carefully examining her daughter. Her natural instinct told her the woman was safe, but the overprotective mother in her wanted the woman to get away from her little girl.

  Rosie looked up at Megan as she carefully tucked the blanket back around Caitlin.

  “What’s her name?” Rosie asked softly.

  “Caitlin.” Her manners were deeply ingrained and despite what the last three months had been like, she couldn’t help but apologize for her rude behavior. “I’m sorry about earlier. Your sons had guns on me. It startled me.”

  Rosie smiled. “Sweetie, I probably would’ve tossed the lamp at them myself. Don’t you worry about it. How long has Caitlin been sick?”

>   Megan took a deep breath. “She only started acting sick about two days ago. She was fine until then.”

  Rosie nodded her head. “How old is she?”

  “Seven.”

  Megan found it hard to believe this gentle woman was the mother of the two very large men that had pushed their way into the room earlier. This woman’s compassion was obvious. Megan imagined she probably was the type of woman who volunteered at children’s hospitals and adopted all the neighborhood kids. She probably regularly baked them cookies and knitted them hats at Christmas.

  “Well, dear,” Rosie spoke, interrupting Megan’s reverie about days gone by. “Let’s go into the kitchen and you can tell me more about her symptoms. How does a cup of coffee sound?” She reached out and put a hand on Megan’s bent knee. “You’re safe here. I promise. No one will hurt you.”

  Megan was hesitant, but what choice did she have? Options weren’t plentiful. She’d heard of a hospital on the state line between Idaho and Washington, but there was no way she could carry Caitlin out the door let alone that far across the rough terrain. There was also the risk it was simply another rumor. Rumors had been rampant and with no way to communicate to verify the information, relying on those rumors was a serious gamble.

  “I’d appreciate anything you can do to help her,” Megan told her appreciatively. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t.”

  Rosie stopped her. “Let’s go get that cup of coffee and we’ll go over all her symptoms from the beginning. I may have something on hand to treat her. It could be the flu, which means she’ll get better in a matter of days.”

  Megan instantly felt guilty. She already knew there was no medicine in the house. She looked down at the floor, trying to avert her eyes.

  Rosie had that mother’s instinct and smiled. “Not that kind of medicine. I’ve used herbs to treat the boys and myself for years.”