BURN - Melt Book 4: (A Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series)

by JJ Pike

  She’d blown their cover. They no longer had the element of surprise. On the plus side, she might draw their fire. That would be good for everyone. As long as the route she’d plotted for Jim didn’t take him too close to the third shooter.

  Petra jogged. Her chest was pounding. She’d need some Aspirin once she got inside the house. She wasn’t craving Xanax any more. Action suited her. She was close enough to the house that she could hear voices, though not individual words. She was tempted to change directions again. Man alive, she’d only just been hit by a bullet and she was already thinking about veering from the plan again. What was wrong with her?

  She stayed on target, reaching Jim and Betsy’s place in record time. She slid to the ground behind their composter. Betsy had told her the story of Jim’s composting woes many, many times. “If you live in bear country, you have to think it through,” she’d say. “We were young when we came out here. Thought we could outsmart them with a cedar-covered composter, but they made short work of that.” The concrete composter with the aluminum lid bolted in place had been decorated with shells they’d brought back from their trips to Florida. Betsy was as proud of its appearance as she was of her primo compost. Petra was glad of the concrete walls, which protected her from stray bullets.

  She was surprised by how many great memories she had of Betsy. If anyone had asked her, as little as a week ago, who they were, she’d have said “our neighbors” and left it at that. But they’d had this secret pact with her parents to take care of them and had been prepping and planning for disaster all this time. Betsy wasn’t an old lady who liked canning and messing with Midge’s hair, she was a decorated nurse who’d saved Sean’s life and taken a bullet, possibly saving Midge’s life.

  Jim was another level of incredible. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed that a partly-mobile, partly-crippled dude could outfit her with an armory’s-worth of weapons in under ten minutes. The man was a genius.

  Jim came around the side of the house. He was unharmed. Petra sent up a prayer of gratitude.

  “Was that you?” He was back to being his stern self.

  “All good,” she said. “Shall I text Sean and tell them to stand back?”

  “Why ‘stand back?’”

  “Once we open fire, these losers are going to give it everything they’ve got. I want Sean away from the windows and doors.”

  “Not bad thinking for a newbie.”

  Petra texted Sean. She kept it short, but explained the plan.

  “Did you see them, on your way back here?” said Jim.

  Petra shook her head. “I believe one shooter is behind the backhoe. I’m not sure where the other one is.”

  “She’s over by the well.”

  “Does anyone even use that?”

  Jim nodded. “They have better cover than us. We’re going to need a distraction.”

  “Do you have a loudspeaker?”

  Jim shook his head. “Not out here. Somewhere in the loft, maybe.”

  “Give me a second.” She tapped her phone and connected to the web. “I’m glad you aren’t like my folks. If you didn’t have Wi-Fi, we wouldn’t be able to do this.”

  She held the phone up to Jim’s mouth. “Your voice will carry more authority. This is what I want you to say.”

  “Who am I talking to?” said Jim.

  “The attackers. I downloaded an App that can turn my phone into a loudspeaker. I’ll record you then blast it out to them.”

  “Can’t I just shout?”

  “Go for it.” Petra sat back and waited. He was wrong, but he needed to find that out for himself. Jim shouted, but (as she’d predicted) nothing changed. The shots kept on coming.

  “Let me record you,” she said. “Can’t hurt.”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “Arthur Junior is dead.”

  Jim nodded. “Can’t say I’m sorry. They knew that was a possibility when they came here.” He followed Petra’s script to the letter.

  She downloaded a song and attached it to the file. “Get their attention with something unusual.”

  “Color me impressed.”

  Petra held her phone up, not so high that her hand cleared the top of the composter, but high enough that the sound wouldn’t be blocked.

  The music ran for about thirty seconds. Just as she’d hoped, it got their attention.

  “Arthur Junior is dead. We know who you are and why you’re here.” They didn’t, but it was a sure bluff. They wouldn’t know that Arthur Junior had died without speaking. “We’re not coming out. This is your only warning. Leave or die.”

  The shooters didn’t answer.

  “I’d just as soon shoot them as give them the opportunity to run,” said Jim.

  “Me too.” Petra opened the file, getting ready to replay the message. “But, they’ll never run. Not now they know Junior is dead. They’ll show themselves. Watch.” Petra had a new security, a sureness right where the bullet had hit her vest. “Wait until you hear them move. They’ll come to us. Trust me.”

  Within ten minutes, the operation was over. Petra was right on all counts. They didn’t leave the compound, they left the safety of their cover. The woman who’d been hiding behind the backhoe came first, cussing and screaming and pouring curses on their heads. Petra took her out with a single shot to the head. When the woman went down, another young man rushed the house. Petra didn’t know whose bullet took him out, but he didn’t make it further than twenty feet.

  “You go see to Mimi right now,” she said. “I’ll go check they’re both dead.”

  “Mimi?”

  “She’s been hit. You know more CPR than me…”

  Jim was already headed back to the house.

  Petra didn’t want to see how badly Mimi was injured. It had been so hard seeing Midge covered in blood. But once she’d made good and sure their attackers were no longer in the land of the living, she sucked it up and followed Jim into the house.

  Mimi was in the kitchen. Upright. She beamed at Petra. “Boy am I glad to see you. You had me worried, you were gone so long.”

  “Where were you hit, Mimi?”

  “It’s nothing. A scratch.”

  That’s what they’d thought about Midge, but look what had happened to her. She’d gone blind and had half her skull missing. Shoot, Mimi didn’t know all that. She hadn’t been able to get through on the phone. Was now the best time to tell her?

  Jim peeled the blood-soaked bandage off Mimi’s shoulder. “Not too bad. Like she said, it’s a flesh wound. You’re going to need a couple of stitches.”

  “Don’t you have some of those stick-on, zip-up sutures?”

  “I have no clue what you’re talking about,” said Jim. “Betsy has a suture kit. If you don’t mind them being a bit jaggedy, I’ll do my best.”

  “Only my oncologist sees me naked these days, Jimbo. I think we’re safe on that score.”

  Jim turned to Petra. “Do you know where Betsy keeps her medical supplies?”

  Petra went to fetch the kit. She couldn’t look at Sean. The “three-word problem” hung in the air between them. She’d said it first and he hadn’t said it back. Luckily, by the time she got back to the kitchen, talk had turned to the intruders.

  “They were shouting about silver,” said Sean. He’d wedged himself into a chair, his bad leg stretched out in front of him. “Any idea what that’s about?”

  “Not a clue,” said Jim.

  Petra checked her phone for messages. She needed to check in on Midge. “I’ll be right back.”

  “My husband was a geologist,” said Mimi.

  Petra stopped. She’d heard almost nothing about her grandfather. He’d died when her dad was really young. Like, younger than Midge even.

  “He encouraged us to put precious metals by for a rainy day. I taught Bill the same. He and his brothers all have a cache of coins. If I know Bill, he probably has a dragon’s lair full of ingots and bullion.”

/>   “You’re joking. Dad? Dad has a secret repository of gold and silver? That’s so not him.”

  “There are things you don’t know about your parents. Incredible things. They’ve seen more and done more than you could ever guess at.”

  Petra had seen a different side to Jim and Betsy in just a few hours, but Dad? Secrets? No way.

  “Anyway,” said Mimi, “I told them we knew nothing about any silver and closed the door in that woman’s face. That’s when it all went to hell. She told me she’d break down the door and search the place if I didn’t let her in. I told her to go ahead and try. I’d have my shotgun at the ready. Ow, that hurts.” She looked at her shoulder. “Did you cleanse the area?”

  “Keep your nose on your own business,” said Jim. “Keep going. We need to know if there are more of them coming for us.”

  “That’s it. She threatened us. I got your shotgun. I shot a couple of times in the air. I thought they’d left, but they came back all barrels blazing. They didn’t stop except to reload. I kept hoping they’d run out, but they didn’t.”

  “We did our best not to waste ammo,” said Sean.

  “He wasn’t too bad for someone who only started shooting a week ago.” Mimi winced as Jim’s needle nudged her skin.

  “We need more ammunition. More guns. Perhaps something with more firepower.” Sean leaned against the table. He was sweating. They were all in pain. Mimi had been shot. Jim’s hips were barely healed, Sean had an incision running all the way up the inside of one leg, and she’d been shot in the chest. She undid the straps that held her vest tight to her chest. As soon as she let the pressure off, the pain radiated out from the impact site. Broken rib.

  “I know people,” said Sean.

  “Know people?” Jim concentrated on his task, but he was listening. She’d been wrong to think him impaired. He was all there and then some.

  “People who sell guns.”

  That got everyone’s attention.

  “You do? I didn’t know that.” Petra did her best not to let her pain show, but sweat had already broken out over her top lip. She was going to have trouble lifting the vest off.

  “My parents travel because of their ‘business.’” He did that air quote thing. “International business, if you get my meaning.”

  “I think we need guns more than we need silver,” said Mimi.

  “Yep.” Jim had stopped stitching. “How much firepower can you lay your hands on?”

  “How much do we need? Make a list and I’ll do what I can.”

  “I need to make this call,” said Petra. Good grief, her boyfriend was the son of gun dealers. How had she not known that?

  “You know what else we need?” said Sean.

  Petra stopped in the doorway. The guns were shocking enough, what else did he have up his sleeve?

  “Drugs.”

  Mimi laughed. “I think you did a fine job of emptying out the pharmacy. We’re good for a while.”

  Jim shook his head. “The situation downstate has changed. According to the nurse who’s with Midge and Betsy, there were underground fires in Manhattan which led to a massive explosion at a gas station. If that’s still burning, and I don’t see how it can’t be, we’re in worse shape than ever.”

  “The roads, Mimi. They’re packed. We only got here because Jim’s Durango manages genuine off-road travel.”

  “So, drugs are a go?” said Sean.

  Jim nodded.

  “Street drugs?”

  “No,” said Mimi. “What would we want those for?”

  “Bartering,” said Sean. He’d been thinking while she was gone. He hadn’t given up on the notion that there could be a heap of trouble headed their way. “Given what Jim and Petra are telling us, I don’t think we have long before this all goes sideways. I’m not talking about Manhattan imploding. That’s a done deal. Manhattan is gone. Don’t give it another thought.”

  Petra couldn’t help herself. The gasp came out of her in a rush. Paul was in Manhattan. They couldn’t write it off.

  “Not literally,” said Sean. “But it’s not going to be salvageable. Those people aren’t going back to their homes. Think Chernobyl rather than New Orleans after Katrina.”

  The room was silent. Petra was locked onto Paul. What anyone else was thinking was beyond her.

  “Right then. Street drugs for bartering. I suppose you kids will know more than us. What’s in, what’s out, what’s going to be in demand.” Jim was very matter of fact about the whole thing. Yet another surprise. Petra would have expected him to fight the “drug” idea.

  “Everything will be in.” Sean was very sure of himself. “Once the infrastructure on the east coast is crippled and the stores are emptied, a lot of people are going to discover that they have no survival skills. I’ve watched this family—and you and Betsy—and you’re a different kind of ready. Most people out there are a loaf of bread away from not eating. Seriously. They think they’ll drive to safety, but this thing is going to have far-reaching effects.”

  “Get to it,” said Jim. “Let me know how much money you need.”

  “None,” said Sean. “It’s covered.” He heaved himself out of his chair and headed for the front room. “Petra, if you have a mo?”

  “Petra! How’s Midge?” The dreaded question.

  “I’m going to call and check on her right now, Mimi.”

  Jim put the needle down on Mimi’s shoulder. “There were complications. We tried to call you but couldn’t get through.”

  The color drained from Mimi’s face. “Tell me she’s okay.”

  “She had an operation.”

  “What kind of operation?”

  “To relieve the pressure on her brain?”

  Mimi was up on her feet, shouting. “And you’re only telling me this now? What’s wrong with you?”

  Petra had no answer.

  “Call and find out. Now.” Mimi paced the kitchen. “I can’t believe it. You let me sit here talking about bartering and crack cocaine and dope peddlers and all this time you knew.”

  Petra dialed Cassie.

  “Hey.” Another person who picked up on the first ring. Adults were weird. “She’s fine. No change.”

  “And Betsy?”

  “All good.”

  “We took care of the situation here. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

  “Cool. I’m fine here.”

  “How’s your hand?” It was only polite to ask.

  “Ah, you know. I’m doing my best not to move it. All good, though. Haven’t touched anyone. You don’t need to worry about that.”

  Petra ended the call. “How are we going to get Midge here?”

  “What do you mean, ‘get her here?’ Didn’t you say she’d had an operation on her brain?”

  Jim motioned for Mimi to sit. She stayed standing. “We decided it was best to bring her home. The hospital is already running low on antibiotics.”

  Mimi was apoplectic. Petra had never seen her so mad. “You’re going to move a child who’s just had surgery? You think that’s a good idea? You think I’ll let you? Over my dead body.”

  “It’s not just that they’re low,” said Jim, “it’s that they can’t restock. The roads are jammed. There are going to be no deliveries for weeks, perhaps months. We have antibiotics, pain meds, and a field nurse. She’s better off here.”

  Petra had forgotten they were going to have to sterilize a room. There was so much to do. She couldn’t stand around talking.

  “Betsy can’t tend to a patient. She was blasted in the chest herself. She’s going to be out of commission for weeks.” Mimi had tears running down her face. Her mouth was twisted and trembling, her cheeks flushed.

  Just hours earlier, Petra would have been on Mimi’s side of the argument, but after what she’d seen she was solidly on Jim and Betsy’s side. The congestion on the roads, the shortage of medication, the burn victims who’d come from Manhattan. Things were so much worse than Mimi understood. She needed to bypass her
grandmother for the time being and deal with Jim. “How are we going to get Midge here? She can’t come over the fields. She’d never make it.”

  “As soon as I’ve fixed your grandmother up, you and I are going to go back in the Durango. Then you’ll drive Midge and Betsy very, very slowly, on the main roads. Before you protest, most of the congestion is on north-bound roads. You’re not going to be at a standstill on the south-bound roads and if you are forced to drive slowly, well that’s good.”