EMP Lodge Series Box Set | Books 1-6

by Hamilton, Grace

  Garrett groaned. “I pushed that shovel all over that garden today. Digging a trench through rocky soil is going to suck.”

  “We would have to use pickaxes to break through the top layer before we can even think about trying to dig,” Chase said. “That is going to be some serious labor. I don't know, do you think a couple of us should start digging while the rest continues building the wall?”

  Wyatt answered for Megan. “I think it would be best to get most of the dike up and when we get close to being finished, we can split up the work crew and start digging. Without a backhoe, we aren't going to be able to dig a trench worthy of holding a lot of water. By hand, it will take weeks to dig a trench big enough to be effective. Focusing on the wall is our priority.”

  A collective groan followed his comment and Megan wished she hadn’t said anything, but Wyatt was right.

  Surviving was all about prioritizing. When there were so many things that needed to be done, it was crucial they put the most important tasks, like building up a strong wall to hold back the water, at the top of the list.

  A sudden thought popped into her mind. What if Evan and Bryan had never showed up that day? Even if they had survived an attack from the Raiders, they would never have the manpower to build this dike. There would be no way for them to stay.

  It was another aha moment for Megan. The group, with its larger number, made it possible for them to do so much more. They were so much stronger together. It had certainly taken her long enough to figure that out, but now she was hoping everyone would stick around and ride out this next potential disaster together.

  “You okay?” Wyatt asked in a low voice.

  “Yeah, was thinking. Can you imagine how we would do this on our own if they hadn't come to live here?” she asked, using her head to gesture to the table behind her where Evan's group was sitting.

  Wyatt agreed. “Yeah, I guess sometimes you have to let fate lead the way. Who knows, this dam breaking may be another blessing in disguise as my mom would say.”

  Megan smiled. “Your mom has a way of finding the silver lining in everything despite what she’s been through, she keeps fighting on.”

  “Yep. Always has. We'll be fine. No matter what happens, we will all be okay,” Wyatt said with confidence. “It may not be like it was, but we have to roll with it. Accept the new normal and keep pushing forward.”

  “I know. Or I mean, I should know that, but sometimes it's hard not to be a little worried.”

  “We have each other and them,” he assured her. “We are a powerful group of people when we work together towards the same goal. It is another saying my mom used to always tell me and Jack, 'where there's a will, there's a way' and we definitely have the will.”

  “You guys ready for more?” Willow asked, interrupting their quiet, brief conversation.

  She grabbed the pot and walked around the table before making her way to where Megan and Wyatt were sitting.

  Everyone thanked her as she scooped the chunky stew into their bowls.

  “Tomorrow, you all need to stop for a lunch break. Take it in turns if you must, but you look terrible,” she cajoled.

  Rosie came down the stairs, looking unhappy.

  “If you guys don't take care of yourselves, you are all going to be too weak to lift a single brick. I think this is a lesson learned for everyone, right?” She scanned the room, driving home her point. Megan felt like a little kid being scolded for crossing the street without looking.

  “We got carried away,” Wyatt said. “It won't happen again.”

  “Good. Finish eating, wash up and get yourselves to bed!” Rosie demanded.

  Megan had to fight back a giggle. She had been well and truly scolded. If they weren't careful, Rosie would probably be grounding them for a month, which given how tired she was didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

  Everyone finished eating in silence. Megan finished her second bowl of stew and headed for the outhouse.

  When she came back in, Wyatt was crouched down talking to Garrett by the stove. She watched them for a second, wondering what they were discussing. Wyatt was gesturing, using his fingers to draw shapes in the air.

  He had been awful secretive lately. She knew he was up to something, but was far too tired and worried about other matters to give it a lot of thought.

  Megan went to their room, quickly stripped down to a t-shirt and crawled under the covers. Her belly was full and her back was feeling better. She had a feeling Rosie may have added an extra herb or two to the tea to help her relax. Normally, she would have been upset about being drugged without her knowing, but right now, it felt way too good to care. She would be affronted tomorrow. For now, she wanted to sleep.

  15

  Wyatt surveyed the wall of the dike. Megan was sticking to the mixing and making of the bricks to give her back a rest today. All the bending and lifting had taken its toll the day before. The group decided it was best to rotate every hour so no one risked serious injury.

  “Are you headed up there?” Megan asked. He had told her earlier he would be taking a small break from the building of the dike to visit the dam.

  “Yep. I want to check on the patch to make sure it’s holding. We’re taking up another bucket of mud, just in case.”

  “You have your rope, right? I don't want to hear about you trying to be some daredevil. It’s too dangerous. I need you,” she said the last in hushed tones for his ears only.

  He pulled her in for a hug, “I promise not to do anything dangerous or stupid. If I have to get down there again, I’ll tie off. The water is too cold to go for a swim. Take it easy and make sure you drink lots of water. Don't forget to eat that pemmican my mom packed for you.”

  She wrinkled her nose, making him laugh.

  “I have mine right here,” he said patting the pocket of his cargo pants. “After yesterday, she wasn't taking any chances.”

  “Let's roll, Wyatt,” Chase called out already starting up the hill towards the dam.

  “See ya.” Wyatt grabbed her giving her a quick kiss.

  The three men walked up the incline in silence. Each of them hoping the patch was holding.

  When the dam came into view, Wyatt breathed a sigh of relief to see it was still solid. He knew he would have known by now if it had crumbled, but he couldn't help but think the worst. He had never been one to dwell on things or live as if the world was going to end, but after the events of the last year, he found himself far more pessimistic. He called it reality. His mom called it being a negative thinker.

  Chase was squatting, checking out the dried mud that was still caked on the cement wall of the dam.

  “It's wet,” he said pointing to the center of the mud patch. Wyatt could see the darker color in the center. The area above on both sides was a much lighter, ash color where it was dry. That was what he had hoped to see over the entire area.

  “We better get another layer on there. I don't see any obvious signs of the crack growing. The mud may be concealing any further damage,” Wyatt said already tying the rope around his waist.

  “Do you think it’s worth trying?” Bryan asked. “I mean, this mud is really not going to stop the dam from bursting if the force of the water is too much.”

  Wyatt didn't take offense at Bryan's statement. It was true.

  “I do think it's worth it. Anything we can do to slow down the inevitable is worth trying. No, it isn't going to stop the dam from breaking, but the sun beating down on the cement isn't helping this crack. Ice cold water and hot sun is a recipe for disaster,” Wyatt reasoned.

  “Okay. I don't want to be wasting time here when we could be down there working on the dike,” Bryan explained.

  “I agree, but I do think this is buying us time, which we need right now,” Wyatt said. “Here, go tie me off and let's get this over with so we can get back down there.”

  Chase handed him the bucket and he carefully climbed down the embankment to the area he was in before. The wall below the patch was w
et. It was leaking. He could see the faintest sliver of the crack peeking out from under the mud circle. The crack had grown.

  “How bad?” Chase yelled down to him.

  “From what I can see, I would say it has grown a few inches in either direction,” Wyatt shouted back.

  He dipped his hand in the mud and slapped it against the cement. He made the patch much bigger than the first circle.

  “I'm out,” he called out, tossing the empty bucket up to Chase. “We're going to have to come back here every day.” The idea did not appeal to him.

  Wyatt crawled up the embankment.

  “Let's go around to the east side and see how full the river is. If it’s still within its bank, we may be okay. Since there’s still some snow on those peaks, it could flood,” Wyatt said pointing.

  The men walked across the dam, looking for any more signs of damage as they went.

  “It does seem odd that the cement would crack in that one area, don't you think?” Chase mused.

  Wyatt agreed, but he knew nothing about dams.

  “Just one of those things, I guess. With no one here to do regular maintenance, it probably went unnoticed until it grew into a problem,” he replied.

  “It doesn't look too bad,” Bryan said, standing on the edge of the lake. “A little high, but not flood stage.”

  They walked to the northeastern side of the lake and came across another small dam. Wyatt had no idea where the small river created by the dam led. That was an exploration trip for another day. He imagined it probably fed some irrigation ditches below.

  “Looks solid,” Chase said.

  “Yep, it's just the big one we need to worry about,” Wyatt replied. “Let's get back and get that dike built.”

  “Wait a minute.” Bryan slammed to a halt. “Maintenance! How could I be so clueless,” he chastised himself.

  Wyatt and Chase both stared at him waiting. Growing impatient at his silence, they both asked in unison, “What?”

  “Maintenance. These dams would have some sort of maintenance room or some way to control the flow of the sluice. At least the bigger ones do. I don’t see why this one wouldn’t. Come on, we have to look.” Bryan looked over the side of the dam shaking his head before running to the other side. His eyes lit up when he found what he was looking for. “There! Come on.”

  Without waiting to see if they would follow, Bryan took off at a trot. When he got to the other end of the dam, he climbed over the wall and disappeared down the side.

  “What the hell is he doing?” Chase demanded running after him.

  Having a sudden suspicion what he was after, Wyatt followed. If they could turn off the water flow, it might give the patch time to dry. Wyatt had no idea what kind of pressure that would put on the dam but if it gave them more time, they’d need to try.

  As Wyatt caught up to Chase, Bryan was already climbing back up shaking his head. Looking over the side of the dam, Wyatt saw a metal staircase built into the dam.

  “What did you find?” he asked him.

  “Not good. The hand cranks are frozen with rust. There’s no moving them. Damn. I had hoped…” Bryan’s voice trailed off as Chase clapped him on the back.

  “It was a good idea, man and something none of us thought of. At least you tried.”

  Wyatt agreed. If they’d been able to control the flow of water, they would have enough time to build the dike and dig a trench.

  Everything they’d built and worked so hard to keep would be saved.

  16

  Vlad was breathing hard when he finally made his way back to the dam. He didn't think he could possibly make the climb again. No matter how determined he was; his body was failing him. He was weary. It was time to go home.

  He stared at the dam, the water rushing through the sluices. He couldn't believe it was still standing. The explosion should have taken out one side of the dam, causing the rest to be destroyed by the force of the rushing water. He had accomplished much bigger jobs in the past with very little effort. He mused it was a sign for him to retire. He wasn't as keen as he was in the old days.

  He took off his pack to make it easier for him to move. It wasn't overly heavy, but for his ailing body, he may as well have been carrying a giant boulder. He wanted to inspect the area where he planted the C-4, which required him to be as nimble on his feet as possible. He walked closer and noticed a huge circle of what appeared to be mud spread over the area he had placed the explosive.

  “Chto eto?” he muttered aloud in Russian.

  Mud? Mud was what kept him from being successful? He knew it had to be the people in that lodge down the mountain. They had somehow discovered the damage and were trying to repair it. It was laughable and frustrating, but he had to appreciate their tenacity. Shaking his head, he stared at the patch job.

  It was his fault. In a weak moment, he still held out hope that he might make it home to die.

  He should have used more C-4 and blown out the entire dam the first time, but he would not fail again.

  He cursed before climbing back up to his pack to unpack the white putty that looked innocuous, but packed a punch. He used both hands to shape the soft material into a small rectangle. He had handled the explosive so many times in the past that it had become cathartic to him. As he carefully shaped the putty, he thought about his plans to return home. The voyage would be long by ship. He was completely lost in thought. He reached for a blast cap and froze mid-bend.

  “Don't move,” came a low voice behind him.

  Vlad dropped the C-4 into his open pack, hoping his body shielded his action and the explosive.

  “Turn around.”

  He slowly turned to face the voice of the man who had likely placed the mud patch on the dam.

  Vlad was a little surprised to see not one very angry face, but three.

  Three men were holding guns directly at his chest. He raised his hands, signaling he was unarmed. Each of them was scowling.

  He went with the innocent victim approach.

  “Hey, guys,” he said, doing his best to sound like an American country boy. “What's up? You wanna put those guns away?”

  “What are you doing up here?” said the man standing closest to him.

  Vlad hoped the men would buy his charade. They had to know they weren't the only ones living up here. He himself had encountered several people on his travels around the area. In every situation, he had managed to play off his presence as a weary traveler looking for somewhere to set up camp. It was his go-to story when he encountered anyone. He wanted them to think he was a friendly neighbor.

  “I was coming to get some water. I have a little camp on the other side of the hill,” he explained.

  The man standing in front of the other two didn't look convinced. Vlad could feel him scrutinizing him. He had been in the States long enough to pick up on the way they dressed, talked and even walked. His identity had been easily concealed after many years of honing his skills to fit in anywhere. He was the enemy within.

  “What's in the bag?” one of the men from behind asked.

  Vlad tried to play dumb. “My bag?”

  “Looks like you had something in your hand when we walked up on you. What was it?” the man asked again.

  He weighed his options. It was only a matter of time before the men searched his pack. They didn't look like average guys. Judging by the way two of them were holding their weapons, he suspected they were military trained. They would know what the C-4 was. His go-to story was not going to work here.

  Vlad thought of a saying he had heard many times in the past. The best defense was a good offense. He would have to strike first if he was to have any chance of surviving this encounter.

  “I'll check for others,” said the man in the back left.

  He turned towards the lake, his gun held out in front of him.

  “Why don't you take about ten steps away from your bag,” the man in front ordered.

  Vlad knew what he had to do. The men would kill h
im if they discovered the explosives in the pack. He would not die without completing his mission. There was no way a few country bumpkins were going to stop him from fulfilling his contract and getting paid. He didn't care how big they were. Sure, they were young and in their prime, but he had more experience and a bigger kill list.

  Vlad took a few seconds to size them up. When he decided he had predicted their actions, he made his move.

  He lunged to the side, grabbed his pack and rolled. Reaching for his gun, he shot blindly, not taking the time to aim. He knew the man in front was the leader. An American cowboy would care more for his friends than his own life. Vlad was going to capitalize on that sense of honor. All he had to do was put the lives of the men in jeopardy and it would bring them to their knees, literally.

  “Get down!” one of the men yelled.

  Vlad took advantage of them dropping to the ground and ran for the cover of the trees. He turned his arm back and fired again, hoping to keep them pinned down long enough for him to escape. The threat of a bullet hitting one of them was all he needed.

  A shot rang out a split second before he felt the impact hit him in the leg. It took him by surprise. He didn't think any of the men would risk getting shot. He misjudged them.

  He shouted in pain, but kept moving. The leg wasn't broke. He could keep moving. He turned and fired again, just missing the man who had been in the front. The tall man dropped to his stomach and fired again. The man was definitely a trained soldier.

  Vlad felt and heard the bullet whiz by him. It slammed into a tree inches from where he had been.

  He kept moving, not taking the time to return fire. This was not part of his plan. He cursed! All he had to do was blow the dam and he could get out of here. These men were ruining everything. Every day the dam remained, he risked losing the faith of his employer. Pride was the only thing a man truly had.

  His chest felt like it would explode and he could no longer draw a deep breath. He slowed his pace when he realized they weren't following. Maybe he had managed to shoot one of them. He didn't care. His leg was on fire and he needed to tend to the wound before he bled to death.