EMP Lodge Series Box Set | Books 1-6

by Hamilton, Grace

  Having Willow stay behind with the baby was a relief for Megan, Wyatt and Bryan. It was going to be difficult enough without trying to protect them both. Megan hated not being able to see outside and was forced to rely on the clock in the room to know when the sun was setting. Mary could clearly sense her anxiousness and had helped pass the time by playing a few games of Scrabble with her.

  The entire evening had been spent planning their attack. Megan couldn't help but watch the clock, counting down the minutes until they could get out of the room. The plan was in place. Megan, Wyatt and Bryan were ready for their assault on Doyle and his men. She prayed it went off as planned and no one else was hurt or worse, killed.

  22

  They left at dusk, making good time using the streets Keith had carefully pointed out on the map for them. The trio made it to the building without being noticed by any of the gang members. Megan hoped this was a sign everything would go according to plan.

  “I'll go first,” Wyatt whispered as he slowly unscrewed the grate from the ventilation shaft. “Then Megan and then you,” he said, looking at Bryan.

  A shot rang out from above. Someone was on the roof shooting. Return fire from the ground echoed through the alley.

  “Do you think this has been going on all day?” Megan asked in astonishment. “They should all be dead by now.”

  Wyatt shook his head. “Whoever is on the roof is attempting to pick off the gang members. There are obviously way too many for that method. If I were one of these gang leaders, I’d let him waste his ammunition and attack as soon as it got dark.”

  Megan's eyes widened as she realized dusk had fallen. “Do you think that's their plan? Are we going to get caught in the crossfire?”

  “Hope not,” Bryan said nonchalantly. “We need to get in there, get the box and let them kill each other. As long as we have this escape route, we can get in and out undetected.”

  “He's right,” Wyatt agreed. “Let's go, before they attack.”

  Megan crawled into the narrow shaft behind Wyatt, his feet directly in front of her face. She fought back the panic that threatened to take over. She hated small spaces ever since she was a little girl. The idea of being stuck somewhere, unable to move, the walls closing in around her. She shook her head to wave off the roll of nausea that threatened to consume her. She was trapped. She must have made a noise because suddenly Wyatt’s soothing voice whispered toward her.

  “Breathe, Megan. Slow and easy.”

  “I don't know if I can do this,” she squeaked out realizing she couldn’t turn around.

  “Yes, you can. Focus on what will happen when we get into the room. Hopefully, we won't drop right into the space Doyle's guys are hanging out in,” Wyatt added as an afterthought.

  Megan didn't answer; she had to keep her mind focused on not freaking out. She tried to block out her surroundings following Wyatt. After what felt like an eternity, he finally told them he’d found a grate and they were going to be dropping into a room.

  She lay on her stomach taking slow, deep breaths while he removed the grate. “Hurry, Wyatt,” she pleaded, doing her best to hide the fear in her voice. She could feel a scream bubbling up. If she didn't escape soon, panic would take over.

  She jerked when she felt Bryan’s reassuring touch on her ankle. “We’re here, Megan. Give him a second and we'll be out of the shaft,” Bryan reassured her from behind.

  Within seconds, Wyatt disappeared from her view.

  She waited until she heard Wyatt say, “Clear,” before she scrambled forward.

  “Slow down,” he growled from below.

  She couldn't slow down. She’d risk a broken ankle. Megan crawled over to the hole before putting her feet through and launching forward toward what she hoped was an open space in the room. She didn't care how far down it was or if there were a million stakes waiting to catch her fall. She had to get out of the vent. The impact jarred her ankles and knees, but nothing snapped. She took a few moments to gulp in stale air.

  “I can't go back out that way,” she told Wyatt who was looking at her with concern. “I can do a lot of things, but crawling through tiny little holes in the wall is not one of them.”

  He grabbed her arm and gently pulled her out of the way. Bryan dropped down behind her.

  “I agree. I think we can find another way out of here, but,” he paused, grabbing her attention with his eyes. “If we must make an escape, it’s going to be back through that vent, so brace yourself.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I'll kill everyone in our path but don't make me go back in there.”

  He nodded while he scanned the room. She knew he was making no promises, but would definitely try.

  “Let's go,” he said, moving to the only door in the room. “This looks like some kind of storage area. We need to head towards the main space. Go slow and easy. The first shot will alert them to our presence, so don't shoot unless you absolutely have to.”

  They walked out the door single file, sticking close to the wall. They came to a hallway when Wyatt held up his hand, signaling them to stop. Before Megan knew what was happening, Wyatt pulled his hunting knife from the sheath at his waist and rounded the corner of the hallway. She heard a quiet thud followed by Wyatt coming back, wiping his knife blade on his pants.

  She looked at him, questioning his actions.

  “One down, a lot more to go,” he said.

  Megan gulped down the knot in her throat and followed Wyatt as he moved past the corpse in the hall. It was one thing to shoot a man, but to get close enough to stab one to death wasn't something she was sure she could do. If she had to, she would but she really hoped she didn't have to do anything so violent.

  They continued down the hall, stopping to dispatch men who were supposedly on watch. Megan wasn't asked to do any of the killing, yet, but if there was more than one or two at a time, she’d have to step in.

  “It must be Doyle on the roof,” Bryan said. “I haven't seen him down here.” The sporadic gunshots had continued the entire time they were in the building.

  “We passed the stairs back there,” Wyatt said pointing behind Bryan. “Let’s double back and find Doyle.”

  Megan turned and followed Bryan as he led the way. They climbed the stairs, doing their best to do so as quietly as possible. They had to get the drop on Doyle. They knew he had a rifle and could direct it at them if he knew they were coming.

  Thankfully, the door to the roof opened behind Doyle. They spotted him, on his stomach at the edge of the roof. They watched for a few seconds as the man looked down the barrel of his gun before pulling the trigger. His body barely jerked with the kickback.

  “He is definitely military trained,” Wyatt whispered.

  The three of them fanned out to form a semi-circle and moved closer to Doyle.

  “Drop the gun, we’re here for the box,” Wyatt said in a firm voice.

  Doyle froze, but made no effort to roll to his back or to put down the rifle.

  “Relax, we're on the same side,” Doyle said from his position on the roof of the building.

  “You normally shoot people that are on your side?” Bryan hissed.

  “That was a misunderstanding,” Doyle said smoothly, finally turning his head to look back at them.

  Bryan shook his head and curled his lip. “You're nothing but a washed-up junkie. You’re a disgusting piece of trash that doesn't deserve to breathe.”

  “Throw the gun over the edge,” Wyatt demanded.

  “Ha! Are you crazy?” Doyle shot back.

  “Probably, but do it anyway,” Wyatt replied.

  Doyle hesitated a brief second before tossing the weapon over the side.

  “Roll over slowly,” Wyatt instructed. “I see your hands move and I will shoot you.”

  The man complied. Leaving his hands up and over his head as he rolled.

  “Megan, check him,” Wyatt ordered.

  She did as she was told, trying not to vomit as she searched him. He stunk. It w
as a combination of sweat, alcohol and body odor in general. Up close, she could see his skin was clammy and his pupils were the size of a penny. His hands were twitching involuntarily. He was definitely high on something.

  Megan ignored the stench wafting off the man and finished moving her hands over his body, “Clear,” she said, removing one handgun from an ankle holster.

  Wyatt moved in and quickly tied the man's hands behind his back while Bryan held a gun on him.

  “Where's the box?” Wyatt demanded.

  “Look, we’re all friends, here. We're all trying to get the box to the right people. No one needs to get hurt,” Doyle said. His voice went up and down as his head bobbed back and forth.

  “You're a junkie. Look at you. There’s no way you’re working with the government. They can't be that desperate,” Wyatt shot back.

  “I don't know what kind of teams you’ve worked on in the past, but we don't kill our team members,” Megan glared at him. “How could you shoot a man in cold blood? You already had the box!”

  Megan's blood was boiling as the image of Evan lying on that dirty floor came flooding in. The man deserved no mercy. She wouldn’t let Bryan or Wyatt show him any kindness. She was furious and wanted the man to suffer.

  Wyatt dropped to his knees in front of Doyle and quickly searched him. The box was tucked inside the tactical vest he was wearing. Wyatt looked at it, inspecting it for any damage or tampering. When he appeared satisfied, he stood and stared down at the man with disgust.

  “You’re an embarrassment to this country,” he said sneering at the man.

  “Let's go,” Bryan said. “We don't have time to stand around with this trash. Leave him up here. Maybe one of those gang members will put him out of his misery.”

  They turned and headed for the door that’d lead them back downstairs.

  “Hey, you can't leave me up here like this!” Doyle yelled.

  Megan chuckled. “Actually, we can and we are. Good luck.”

  The door slammed shut behind them, blocking his complaints. They walked down to the ground floor. Gunshots were continually hitting the building. It was too dangerous for them to walk out any of the main doors.

  “Megan?” Wyatt said softly.

  “I know, I know. Back in the ventilation. I got it.”

  Back in the storage room, Wyatt and Bryan dragged a couple boxes over and Wyatt climbed up first before helping to pull Megan in. Crawling forward, she got out of the way so Bryan could climb in with Wyatt’s help. Once again, they crawled through the vent and slowly made their way out. It wasn't as bad as the first time, now that she knew how far they had to crawl. It gave her a goal to focus on. Once they were clear, they headed back to Willow and JJ at the Douglass house. Megan couldn't hide her excitement over their repossession of the box. They were so close to getting JJ the help he needed.

  23

  Albert handed Neil a shovel and instructed him to dig the trench between the two rows of corn. He’d been watching Rosie and then Albert do it. It wasn't rocket science. The man could figure it out.

  “It doesn't need to be deep, a nice shallow trench will do. We don't want to hurt the roots below,” he explained to the soldier who appeared to be almost fully recovered.

  Brenda was nearby, working on the fence that protected the garden from the goats, deer and whatever other critters decided to take advantage of their hard work. In reality, she was staying close because she didn't trust the guy. The more time that passed with Neil not revealing who he was made them all uneasy. Working in the garden allowed them to stay close to the lodge and their weapons—just in case. They were purposely prolonging the job that normally would’ve been completed in a day or two.

  Albert certainly didn't trust him and was glad to have backup in case Neil managed to escape his old bones. He and Brenda had talked earlier and decided to try to get the guy to open up a little. If Neil dropped his guard while he was doing some kind of activity, he’d reveal a bit more about himself.

  “Did you have to garden where you were at?” Albert asked, trying to be as casual as possible.

  Neil gave a brief shake of his head in response, but kept digging.

  Albert sighed; he was a man of few words and revealed little to nothing about himself. He decided to try again with a more direct approach.

  “Did you have someone who delivered your food? You're military, right? Were you guys living off MREs? Was there a unit assigned to grow food?”

  Neil stopped shoveling and looked at Albert. “No. Our meals varied and I never asked where they came from.”

  Brenda threw down the hammer she’d been using to nail barbed wire to a post. Albert knew the man's lack of information was driving her crazy.

  “Why can't you tell us what's in the box?” Albert asked, tired of skirting around the issue.

  “I don’t know what's in the box. We were instructed to deliver it unopened. You don't ask questions when you’re given a direct order,” he said narrowing his eyes at Albert.

  “Got it. Fine. Can you tell us what may have caused the EMP in the first place?”

  Neil sighed, expressing his frustration with the rapid-fire questioning. “I don't know. I'm a grunt. There are rumors, as I'm sure you heard, but I don't know any more than you do. I was assigned a mission and I completed it. I didn't pester my commander with who, what, why and where,” he said, making it clear he was fed up with the questioning.

  Chase, who’d also been nearby working on a hole for a new latrine came over to talk to Neil. “I think you know more than you’re saying. I can respect that. You’re doing your job and keeping your mouth shut, but we saved your ass and right now, you’re being far too secretive. I don't like it,” he said bluntly.

  Neil raised an eyebrow and right when Albert thought he and Chase were going to end up in a fistfight, Neil smiled.

  “You're right. I am. I guess I’ve been doing this far too long. I apologize and I’ll try to answer any questions that I can. I really don't know much of anything, but go ahead. Ask away,” he said.

  Albert didn't trust his sudden change in demeanor. He was a jerk and then with a few harsh words from Chase, he was Mr. Nice Guy. It made him even more leery of the man. Chase could be intimidating, but no one flipped the switch that quick unless they wanted to calm the troubled waters they’d stirred up.

  “How about if you tell us what it's like out there? Are there many survivors?” Brenda asked.

  Neil rubbed his chin. “We’ve run across quite a few different groups, some friendlier than others. The small towns seem to be more populated than the cities, but I think that’s also because the city dwellers stay in hiding.”

  “What condition are the cities in?” Chase asked.

  Albert winced. He knew Chase was asking out of concern for the missing members of the lodge that were headed to Ravena. They’d heard stories via the HAM, but none of them had seen the major cities since the EMP.

  Neil shook his head. “I was honest about that. I told them it was dangerous. Ravena, New York, LA and some of the other major metropolises are in bad shape. I was with a team in Chicago. It looked like a war zone.”

  Albert's stomach churned at the thought of little JJ being taken into a place like that. He understood why the risk was necessary, but it didn't make it any easier to think about.

  Chase put a hand on his shoulder. “They'll be okay. Wyatt would never endanger JJ.”

  “What about any of the bases across the country?” Brenda asked. “Where are operations being directed from?”

  Neil looked away, giving Albert the impression he didn't want to answer that.

  “I was at Fairchild,” Brenda added. “It fell apart within weeks of the EMP.”

  That seemed to ease Neil's concern. “The ones I’ve been to are in a similar state. Command deteriorated and the bases were overrun with panicked civilians. Service men and women abandoned their posts.”

  Brenda sighed. Albert knew she’d hoped to return to her job as an Arm
y doctor one day. That day may never come. He also didn't miss the fact that Neil glossed over the question like a smooth politician. He didn't answer when asked about who or where orders were coming from, which made Albert suspicious.

  “I will say I think you guys have one of the best set ups. We’ve been lucky enough to be guests at plenty of homesteads across the country, but you seem far more organized. Of course, most of the folks we encountered have been friendly with one another. One group explained they’d been a part of a prepper organization before the EMP. When it hit, they all worked together, even though they were stretched across several states,” Neil explained.

  Albert nodded his head. “I’ve talked with quite a few people on the radio that are a part of those organizations. We managed to come a long way, but those folks, well they were ready from day one. I don't think they had to deal with some of the same struggles as we did. Rosie's husband had done a great job stockpiling food and what not, but boy, there was so much more we had to learn.”

  “We've done alright,” Chase interjected, seeming to take offense at Albert's words.

  “Yes, we have, not saying we haven't, but it’d have been a lot easier with more tools and a larger group of people to depend on,” Albert explained himself a little better.

  It was Neil who settled the almost-argument. “Not even the government was totally prepared. We lived in a world that left us somewhat handicapped for this kind of living. You’ve all done great.”

  Albert beamed with pride. “How about we go relieve Tara on watch? You can see how we keep this place safe.”

  Chase and Brenda both cleared their throats at the same time, voicing their objection without saying the words.

  “It's fine,” Albert said looking at Neil. “He does anything stupid and I'll shoot him.”

  Neil grinned, as if to challenge him, but quickly wiped the smile from his face. “You can trust me.”

  Albert wasn't ready to go that far, but he was going to give him the benefit of the doubt for now.