EMP Lodge Series Box Set | Books 1-6

by Hamilton, Grace

  Megan flinched, as if they’d touched her. They were too close! Wyatt grabbed her hand, stilling her with his eyes. She gave a slight nod, took a deep, silent breath and watched as the men looked side-to-side, chatting about what they were going to eat when they got back to the lodge.

  The men stuck around the area for what felt like forever, before finally moving on. Wyatt and Megan stayed put, not wanting to alert them to their presence.

  “They're looking for us?” Megan hissed, half-asking, half-stating.

  “We need to follow them. If we can take them by surprise, we can even our odds a bit, but we need to do it farther away from the cabin. When the rest come looking for the men, and they will, we don't want them found anywhere near where we’re holed up,” Wyatt whispered.

  “How are we going to kill all four at the same time?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “We can't, but we can get pretty close. You take two, I take two.”

  She mulled it over. “What about their comm things? What if they're on an open mic?”

  He shook his head. “They wouldn't have been talking about lunch if that were the case.”

  She nodded. “Okay, I'm game. Four down is better than four more against us when it’s time to take Neil out.”

  “Let’s follow them a ways, maybe we can pick up some intel,” he gave her a serious look. “Follow my lead. If I tell you to run, do it. Don't give me any crap; do it.”

  Although her initial reaction was to argue, she zipped her lips and nodded in agreement. They started slowly moving forward with Wyatt in the lead.

  “I can't make out what they're saying,” she whispered. “Do you see those patches on their arms? They all have a different number. What is that about?”

  Wyatt looked at her and gave her the look to be quiet. Apparently, Wyatt wasn't in the mood to answer all her questions or he couldn't.

  The voices ahead were muffled. She managed to pick up a word here and there, but nothing that made sense. It wasn't long before she recognized the area they were in. They were near the stream that fed the garden.

  “We're not far from the lodge,” she hissed. “Shouldn't we turn back?”

  He turned and scowled at her. “No.”

  A loud, atrocious sound rent the air.

  “What the hell is that?” Megan said a little too loudly.

  The men stopped walking. Wyatt grabbed her and pushed her to the ground.

  “Did you hear that?” one of the men asked.

  “I thought I heard something, but look, the shipment has arrived. We better get back,” another man answered.

  When it was clear they were gone, Megan and Wyatt stood up, looking up at the sky.

  “Oh, my god! That's a helicopter,” Megan said, clearly dumbfounded. She imagined this would be what it would be like for a time traveler, landing in the twenty-first century. It was a silly thought, but it was the only way she could make sense of what she was seeing. It was surreal.

  “What is it carrying?” Wyatt asked.

  Megan looked away from the helicopter and focused on the huge box it was carrying from several heavy ropes. It was one of those Army helicopters, a Black Hawk if she remembered her terminology correctly. It had two rotors instead of the cursory single one. There were soldiers visible in the large doors on either side of the helicopter.

  “I don't know. Whatever it is, they’re taking it to the lodge,” Megan said, still in awe over the flying machine overhead.

  “Let's get a closer look,” he said, moving towards the lodge.

  She grabbed his arm. “Wyatt! We can't go down there. It's only the two of us. We don't stand a chance.”

  “We aren't going to the lodge. I want to get close enough to see what's in that box. We have to know what we're up against, Megan,” he explained. “It could be a tank or a whole new batch of soldiers.”

  She growled. “Fine. Let me repeat some words of wisdom someone once told me. If I say run, do it. Don't argue.”

  He grinned. “Got it. Now, let's go.”

  They crept through the trees, stopping whenever they heard movement too close. They arrived at the ridge above the lodge in time to see the helicopter hovering over the roofless building Neil's men had constructed.

  “What do you think is in that box?” Megan asked, knowing Wyatt was as clueless as she was.

  “Whatever it is, it can't be good. I think anything that man has a hand in is going to be bad for us and the entire country. He clearly has an agenda and keeping the United States in the dark is only part of it,” Wyatt stated.

  They watched as the box lowered from the sky. With the box closer to the ground, it became a little easier to make out a shipping container.

  “That's one of those boat containers,” Megan pointed out. “I used to see those for sale all the time. People turn them into tiny homes or even bunkers. I wonder if he’s building a shelter or if the container is full of supplies?” She shook her head. “The possibilities are endless.”

  Wyatt nodded. “You're right. I have a feeling he’s building himself a safe room in case his little hideout, our home, is discovered.”

  She winced. “If his location is revealed, the lodge will become ground zero. The government will probably drop a bomb on the mountain.”

  “We need to get back,” Wyatt said.

  They practiced as much stealth as they could; returning the same way they came, in case there was a guard on patrol. It took them longer than it should have because they were constantly jumping into the bushes at every noise they heard. They couldn't risk being caught.

  11

  Neil stood in the clearing of the lodge he’d made his home, watching the helicopter coming in. He smiled, revealing his perfectly white, straight teeth. His dark hair and movie star features were disarming, which he used to his advantage. It got him here. One look at Megan and she was his for the plucking. A little playacting had won her over to his side. His injuries were healed and he was ready to carry out the rest of his plan.

  Taking out that military convoy was easy. He had enough firepower with him to take out the town they were holed up in but the question remained as to how to get his Hollerith card to the NRU. When he’d spotted Megan and her friends running away from the building, a plan was already forming. His men were only too willing to shoot him to make his plight seem that much more convincing and he was surprised they didn’t fight over the opportunity. His men were trained well enough to know where to hit him to avoid any serious injury. A gunshot in general looked terrible and with his superior acting skills, he had played it up enough to win her sympathy.

  He smirked as he remembered her boyfriend arguing with her about whether to save him. A little groan and she fell for his near-death condition, hook, line and sinker. If he had a conscience, he would probably feel bad for screwing them over so bad after they took him in. He grinned. He didn't care about any of them. It was all about him and his successful rise to the top of the food chain.

  The delivery of his emergency bunker had taken some time, but it was finally happening. This was the final step to secure his safety if he was ever found. There was no doubt in his mind the entire, remaining United States military would be looking for him. Although it would take a small miracle for them to find him up here in this remote area, one could never take chances. His ability to think ahead and plan for every contingency is what made him superior to the rest. He deserved his place at the top.

  When the news came in the NRU had exploded, he’d been giddy with excitement. His plan had worked and he didn't even have to lift a finger. Those stupid people did it all for him. His intel told him they’d escaped the explosion, but soldiers had been hot on their tail.

  “Tell them to set it straight down,” he ordered via the two-way radio system.

  “Yes, sir,” one of his many men responded.

  It made him happy to have so many men willing to do his bidding. For too long, he’d been a pawn. Now, he was the chess master. He called the shots. He contro
lled who lived and who died. In fact, with the push of a button, any or all of his men would instantly drop dead.

  Another one of his men cautiously approached him. “That's pretty big.”

  Neil raised one of his dark, bushy eyebrows, causing the man to pale. “If I'm to live in it, I want to be able to move around. I can have anything I want, why would I choose anything smaller?” He smirked.

  The man nodded briefly before taking steps to back away. Neil didn't remember his name nor did he care to; they were numbers to him. This was number twelve, easily identified by the patch on his shoulder.

  “Yes, sir, I mean you're right, sir,” the man stammered.

  Neil looked at him, making the man squirm. “Tell them I want it setup like I ordered.”

  The man nodded. “Yes, sir,” and quickly left Neil's presence.

  The power made him heady. Growing up an Army brat, he’d bounced around from base to base always feeling out of control and helpless over his own destiny. Not anymore. He was the one in control, calling all the shots.

  “You,” he called out to one of the men standing nearby, watching the container lower to the ground.

  The man looked around, realized he was talking to him and scrambled to get closer. “Yes, sir?”

  “Get a team together and start placing those explosives around the building. Follow the diagram I drew up last night. No mistakes. Do you understand?”

  His dutiful soldier nodded.

  Neil looked at him, waiting for the words.

  “Yes, sir!” the man said before quickly leaving his presence.

  He turned back, using one hand to rub the scruffy beard he was growing. He would miss that Tara girl. She’d been an excellent barber, even going so far as to give him a nice, clean shave when he feigned weakness. He hadn't shaved since. If he found her, he may consider keeping her around. Her brat would have to go, though.

  A small thud echoed over the area as the shipping container hit the ground. He clapped his hands together, relieved he would have somewhere to hide should things get ugly. The bunker would be set up to sustain him and him alone. Everyone else was collateral damage.

  He turned and started back towards the lodge. Several of his men were already carrying out his plan, placing explosives at each corner of the lodge. If, by some chance, someone found his little camp, he would escape to the bunker and blow the lodge taking anyone unlucky enough to be nearby with it.

  He walked into the lodge and smelled a delicious aroma. “What's for dinner?” he asked the cook he’d recruited from some fancy restaurant back in Chicago with the promise of food and shelter.

  “Potato soup, sir,” the cook answered.

  It hadn't taken long for the guy to learn the rules. To make sure he stayed in line, Neil had outfitted him with what he lovingly referred to as a shock collar. The soldiers wore them to communicate with him and one another. The cook wore one because Neil trusted no one, especially the guy in charge of cooking his meals.

  He wasn't taking any chances. On occasion, he used the little button to take one of the men down in order to keep the others in line. It was a genius method, designed by some scientist he’d met long ago. To take out one of his men, he punched in their number and click, the injection of Tetrodotoxin was sent into the jugular of the wearer of his special collars. Death was quick and he liked to think merciful.

  He’d stumbled upon the poison while working as a dishwasher in an upscale restaurant years ago. The poison came from the puffer fish. Rich people loved the danger involved when they ordered the delicacy. Would they die with one bite? It hadn't taken him long to find a source on the dark web that would sell vials of the extremely deadly poison. He could take out his entire army and then some if he needed to. He smiled as he thought of the little black box tucked safely away in case of emergency.

  “I'll eat in my room,” he ordered, climbing the stairs to take the room that had once been occupied by Rosie. It was the biggest and had the nicest bed. He was the king of this castle and deserved the best.

  12

  Wyatt was shaking his head and mumbling under his breath as they approached the cabin.

  “What is it?” Megan asked, tired of waiting for him to tell her what had him so upset, beyond the obvious.

  He growled. “Look around. Do you see anyone trying to stop us from getting near the cabin?”

  She hesitated, not entirely sure, what he wanted her to say. “No,” she said slowly.

  “Exactly! We’re sitting up here, licking our wounds and not thinking about security. If Chase were here, he would be kicking our butts for being so damn complacent!” he said with a great deal of frustration. “This is ridiculous. We can't sit here and wait for something to happen to the rest of us.”

  Megan nodded, not interrupting his tirade. She knew he needed to get it out and doing it away from the rest of the group was for the best.

  “See! Do you see?” he shouted.

  Megan wasn't sure what he wanted her to see.

  “I don't know what you’re getting at, Wyatt. What can I do to help?” she asked.

  He rolled his eyes and turned back to look at the area outside the tiny cabin they were calling home. His hands were on his hips as he surveyed the area. “This isn't going to work.”

  “What? What isn't going to work?” she asked.

  “If we’re going to stay here, we have to do something about our defenses. I don't know that this place can be defended,” he said, exhaling a breath.

  “We don't have a lot of options. It isn't as if we can pick up and move without your mom and my daughter. I get this isn't an ideal place and it isn't nearly as safe as the lodge was, but we lived there for more than a year, there was more of us and more to work with. We have nothing here, Wyatt. Nothing,” she said with a little more frustration than she intended.

  “Let's go. We need to have a meeting and figure out what we're going to do. I don't want to sit up here and wait to die. I don't want JJ to die. I don't want any of us to be killed, kidnapped or some other horrible misfortune.”

  She nodded. “Okay. I get it. We'll figure something out.”

  Wyatt stomped towards the cabin.

  Bryan met him outside. “Hey, did you—”

  Wyatt glared at him, instantly silencing him. Bryan looked to Megan, questioning her. She shook her head, telling him not to ask. She knew he would tell everyone exactly what was on his mind in due time.

  It wasn't long before she heard Wyatt demanding everyone meet inside the cabin for a meeting. Seeing Neil's men on patrol so close to the hunting cabin had spooked them both. Wyatt wasn't one to sit around and wait, Megan mused. He was going to take action. It made her smile—until he started talking and laying out his plan.

  Then she was furious.

  She could only glare at him as he outlined the options for the group. “Don't look at me like that, Megan. You saw what I did. You saw how easy it was for us to walk in here with no one even noticing. We’re sitting ducks!” he said vehemently.

  “What about Caitlin and Rosie? Do we pick up, run away and leave them to fend for themselves?” she shot back.

  It was unlike them to argue in front of an audience, but there wasn't any privacy and she wanted everyone to know why she was against leaving the hunting cabin.

  “I'm not saying that. Listen, Megan. We’re screwed if we sit around and wait for the right time to rescue them. We'll be dead and then they really will be left on their own,” he said in a softer tone.

  “So, we don't wait. Let's go tonight or first thing in the morning,” she replied, as if Chase hadn't been killed the day before by trying to do exactly that.

  He shook his head. “We tried that. We don't know enough about them nor do we have the manpower and firepower for something so obvious. We need to put together a real plan. Everything we’ve done in the past has always required a great deal of strategic planning and thinking out all the possibilities. We already made that mistake and we suffered dearly for it,” he s
aid softly. “I won't let it happen again.”

  Albert cleared his throat. “I think Wyatt has a point. When we headed up here, it was meant as a temporary shelter. We’re too close to the lodge. If those troops were already within spitting distance of this place, it's far too dangerous to stay any longer. We have to get out.”

  Bryan, who'd been staying quiet in the corner, watching everything, spoke up. “When does our plan include rescuing the girls? All of them. Not only Caitlin and Rosie?”

  Wyatt rubbed his head in irritation. “I don't know, yet. We have to get ourselves to safety and then plan a rescue mission. Like I said, if we’re captured or dead, we aren't going to do anyone any good. I’m saying we have to move because I want to save the girls, not because I’m running away.”

  Bryan nodded. “Okay.”

  “Okay what?” Wyatt asked.

  “Okay, we go.”

  “Where?” Willow chimed in. “You keep talking about going, but we've been all over this area. There aren't any other houses or cabins. Do you expect us to live without shelter? I don't think that’s a better idea,” she said, unafraid to express her irritation.

  “My old cabin,” Brenda said, in such a quiet voice everyone had to stop their murmuring and complaining to hear.

  “Where?” one of the twins asked.

  Megan looked at Wyatt to judge his reaction.

  “I had a cabin farther down the mountain. It was about a three-hour walk on foot from the lodge. It’s a little bigger than this place, has a sleeping loft and a woodstove we could use to keep warm and cook,” she explained.

  Wyatt was slowly nodding. “It was close to the meadow, making hunting easy. There was also a stream nearby. Water wouldn't be an issue.”

  “Uh, didn't it get trashed by McDaniels’ men?” Megan reminded them both.

  Brenda shrugged. “A couple broken windows isn't a big deal. We can cover them. We can fix the door as well. I had supplies buried all around the property and stashed in secret hiding holes. There's a good chance they’re still there as well.”