Our Survival: A Collection of Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thrillers

by Williams, Ron

  She motioned to the used grocery bags that Susan had kept stuffed together in the side of the pantry.

  “Robert, do you want to gather the food?” Randall asked. “I can get the blankets and medicine in the closet over there.”

  “I said gather up the food!” Alexandra barked. “Both of you!”

  “Look, we need the food, but we need the medicine and blankets too,” Randall said. “We could speed this process up if we work on both at the same time.”

  Alexandra hesitated for a moment.

  “Fine,” she finally said. “Duncan, keep an eye on him.”

  Duncan nodded, still not saying a word. Randall led him over to the closet while Robert began to collect the food in the pantry and stuff it in the grocery bags under Alexandra’s watch.

  Randall opened the closet while Duncan kept Robert’s Ruger trained on him.

  Randall picked up the two containers of medicine that were there and set them down on the floor. He then turned to the blankets that were folded up nicely there and began to lift them up.

  He carefully lifted up one blanket and sure enough, the Hogue grip of Marcus’ Smith & Wesson Model 65 .357 Magnum revolver was there. Randall managed to get it out without Duncan noticing by sliding it out between two of the blankets.

  “You say there’s more stuff in the garage and downstairs?!” Alexandra shouted to Randall.

  “Yes!” Randall replied.

  Randall was holding two folded blankets, with his dad’s .357 concealed between them. He was prepared to use it in the next five seconds if he had to.

  “I wanna see them!” Alexandra shouted back. “Let’s leave this stuff alone for now and head down there.”

  She and Robert came back around the corner of the house. Robert was carrying two grocery bags filled up with food. He set them down on the floor.

  “Let’s go downstairs first,” Randall said.

  He lead the four downstairs with the folded blankets in his arms. They got down to the split stairwell and then turned the corner to go downstairs when Alexandra said, “Why you got those blankets there?”

  “We need these blankets,” Randall replied.

  “Yeah, but why are you carrying them down there, dumbass?” Alexandra rolled her eyes.

  Randall had reached the downstairs level by this point. Robert, Duncan, and Alexandra were still standing on the staircase above him.

  “You want me to set them down, I’ll set them down,” said Randall.

  He got down to his knees to set the blankets on the floor. That’s when Alexandra started to grow suspicious. She raised the .45 and aimed it at Randall.

  “What do you have in between those blankets?” she asked Randall.

  “Nothing,” said Randall.

  “Let’s see,” she said. “Unfold them. Now.”

  Just then, the front door behind Alexandra creaked open. She turned to see who it was. Randall looked over her shoulder to see to.

  Standing there in the doorway was Justin, Randall’s neighbor and former police officer.

  And to Randall’s immense relief, Justin had a Glock 19 9mm in both hands aimed at Alexandra!

  “Drop it, lady,” he ordered, his voice calm and yet stern.

  Alexandra could tell he meant business.

  “Who the hell are you?” she asked.

  “Just drop it,” he retorted.

  Seizing his opportunity, Randall pulled the Smith & Wesson from under the blankets and aimed it at Duncan.

  “Drop the gun!” Randall ordered.

  “No, don’t!” Alexandra ordered back.

  Afraid out of his wits, Duncan nonetheless held tightly onto the grip of the Ruger and kept it trained on Robert.

  It was a Mexican standoff: Duncan had his gun aimed at Robert, Randall had his gun aimed at Duncan, and Alexandra and Justin had their guns aimed at each other. They were all in such close proximity that if they fired, it would be at point blank range and nearly impossible to miss.

  “Don’t try anything stupid, lady,” Justin growled again. “Drop the gun.”

  “Come on, let’s be reasonable here,” Alexandra managed to say, her voice considerably weaker now because she could see the tables had turned on her.

  Alexandra had a two handed grip on the .45, but now she let go of one hand and let it settle over the grip of the Beretta 9mm in her belt.

  “We aren’t negotiating,” said Justin, cooly. “Drop it.”

  Alexandra glanced between Randall, Robert, and Justin.

  “You need to go, buddy,” she said. “Shut the damn door and walk off. This ain’t your business.”

  “As a matter of fact, this is,” Justin countered. “Randall’s parents are my neighbors…and my friends. And I can tell that you’re most certainly not a friend of theirs, which means you’re not my friend either.”

  There was about five seconds of silence, but it felt like five minutes to Randall. He kept his cool, trying to control his adrenaline that was rushing throughout his body. He didn’t want to do anything stupid.

  Finally, Alexandra sighed and raised her pistol higher to Justin’s head. She uttered two words:

  “Screw it.”

  Justin instantly double tapped two hammered on shots into Alexandra’s chest, sending her own shot off into the door. The bullets exited out her back and sprayed the wall behind her with blood as she fell.

  Before Duncan could get a shot off, Robert grabbed the long barrel of the revolver and forcefully twisted it out of his hands, before punching him square in the face and knocking him down.

  “I surrender, I surrender!” shouted Duncan through his bloodied teeth, his hands raised high in the air.

  Justin stepped into the house with his Glock still trained on Alexandra. She looked up at him in defeat before her eyes glazed over in death.

  “She’s gone,” Justin said, lowering his Glock. “You guys, okay?”

  “We’re fine,” Randall said. “Thanks to you.”

  Justin quickly scanned outside before closing the door.

  “No doubt the neighbors heard those gunshots,” he said. “I’ll explain what happened to them later.”

  Robert grabbed Duncan and hauled him downstairs. Justin holstered his Glock and then picked up the Colt .45 and Beretta 9mm that Alexandra had.

  “Those are mine,” said Randall, eager to get them back.

  Justin handed the two pistols over to Randall and they went downstairs to join Duncan and Robert.

  “Sit on the couch,” Robert ordered.

  “Please don’t kill me!” Duncan cried through tears.

  “We won’t if you shut up and do as we say!” Robert hissed.

  Duncan promptly sat on the couch as Robert ordered and covered his face with a pillow, sobbing.

  “Who are these people?” Justin asked.

  “Well, we got a long story to tell you,” said Randall.

  Randall took five minutes to summarize everything that had happened to him since had last seen Justin at the start of the EMP.

  “Crazy,” Justin said, when Randall was through. “Your family seriously rescued your brother from that Compound place?”

  “That’s right,” Randall said. “Wasn’t easy, but we saved him.”

  Justin shook his head in disbelief.

  “I suppose you want to know what’s been happening here,” he said.

  “We heard the town was under martial law, but then the military pulled out and withdrew to Spokane,” said Randall. “We also heard all the homes got sacked, but this neighborhood looks almost as good as it was.”

  “That’s because we’ve got three other police officers who live in this neighborhood, plus I’m good friends with the chief,” Justin said. “We convinced him to talk to the National Guard commander and tell him that he would take the neighborhood’s supplies for him. Of course, he didn’t because of his good graciousness. I was relieved.”

  “Look guys, I’d love to continue talking, but it’s been ten hours since we left the cab
in,” Robert joined in. “We gotta grab as much stuff as we can and hightail it outta here. My sister is still with those people, remember?”

  “I’ll let you go, but I gotta ask, how in the hell did you guys possibly get here?” asked Justin.

  “Stole a truck from the Compound,” said Randall. “A 1980s Toyota Hi-Lux. Still in good working condition because it’s invulnerable to the EMP.”

  “Where are you guys parked?” Justin asked.

  “Outside of Coeur d’Alene on the road to Athol,” said Randall.

  “Wow, you’ve got a lot of walking to do,” remarked Justin.

  Just then, there was a knock on the door, followed by multiple more knocks.

  “That’ll be the neighbors,” said Justin. “I’ll talk to them. Gather what you guys need. I’ll take it you’ll be heading back to your grandparents’ lake cabin?”

  “That’s right,” Randall said. “And thank you for what you did. You saved our lives.”

  “No problem, I wish you all the luck,” Justin said. “And don’t worry, I’ll take care of the body too.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Compound

  Butler stood in his office overlooking a map of Priest Lake. Gale and George and his lieutenants Mitchum and Jones were in the room with him.

  “You’re sure they’re here on the north end?” Butler asked.

  He pointed to the northern end of Priest Lake on the map.

  “We didn’t actually see them, but several folks said that’s where they are,” replied Gale. “There seemed to be broad consensus on that.”

  Butler nodded.

  “Then that’s where they must be,” he said.

  “We spread the word about what they did to Gerald,” said Gale. “More people are going to join our side. Tonight or tomorrow, I’m supposed to meet up with this guy named Phil and a band of people that he’s getting together.”

  “Good,” grunted Butler.

  “And about that…I promised them one of the vacant houses,” said Gale. “So we bought them at a price.”

  “A price that we can easily afford,” said Butler. “The more people we have, the better. Not only to eliminate the Parkers, but to survive over the long term as well.”

  Butler stepped away from the map and over to his big gun safe that rested in the corner.

  “Mitchum, update me on the progress we’ve made here,” Butler said as he began to unlock the gun safe.

  “In addition to our normal security force of two hundred men, we’ve got three hundred more people who are able to fight,” explained Mitchum. “But we have quite a few old folks and children, so a lot of other able bodied people who could fight want to stay here to protect them instead of venturing out after the Parkers.”

  Butler opened up his gun safe and pulled out a Ruger Mini-14 with a collapsing skeletal stock. He set it down on the table next to the map.

  “That’s fine,” he remarked. “People are scared, I get it. Besides, we need people to guard the Compound anyway. And five hundred soldiers plus the guys we’re gonna meet up with? That’s more than enough.”

  Butler set some loaded magazines for his Mini-14 down on the table and then stepped back to his gun safe.

  “Five hundred is way too many,” said Gale. “How are we supposed to transport all of them? We don’t even have a dozen vehicles. And how are we supposed to coordinate an attack with so many people? It’s not like the Parkers have that many. I’d be willing to bet that they have twenty people at the very most. A dozen or less is more likely.”

  “We’ll only need a hundred people for this assault,” said Butler, as he drew his SIG Sauer P220R .45 pistol from the safe and holstered it on his right hip. “You’re right, Gale, twenty is a very generous estimate for their number.”

  “So what’s the plan then?” asked Jones.

  Bulter pulled out one more gun from the safe, a hammerless Smith & Wesson .38 J-frame, and concealed it in his vest pocket. He then stepped back over to the map and set both of his hands back on the table.

  “George, I’m going to task you with maintaining the defense of the Compound,” he said. “Have guards on high alert on the walls and patrols within a three mile radius. There are to be a minimum of five people per patrol, at all times.”

  George nodded and tried to contain his excitement, but his wide smile gave it away. For the first time in his nineteen years, his dad had just tasked him with a major responsibility that he previously would have only given to Gale or Gerald.

  Butler looked back over the map again and then looked up to Gale.

  “Gale, you and I will be leading the attack,” he said. “We’ll take a hundred of our most able bodied and well armed members and meet up with this guy Phil or whatever his name is. We’ll drive on up to the northern end of the lake and surround their cabin. That way, they’ll have nowhere to run but to the water. The Parkers won’t stand a chance. They’ll either all be killed or they’ll have to surrender. And if they surrender, well, let’s just say that they’ll wish they were killed after all.”

  * * *

  Afternoon was coming to an end and evening was starting to set in as Randall, Robert, and Duncan walked back to their Hi-Lux truck through Coeur d’Alene. Each of them were carrying two duffle bags filled with food, medicine, clothing, blankets, and guns and ammunition. Due to the weight of the bags, their progress to the vehicles were much slower than when they had come.

  Many desperate and hungry looking people approached them to ask what was in the bags, but Randall and Robert simply went on their way. When people became too inquisitive or forcibly tried to take them, they were forced to draw their sidearms to ward them off.

  They finally reached their Hi-Lux where they had left it and tossed the duffel bags in the back.

  “Are you going to kill me now?” Duncan asked, his voice wavering.

  “No,” said Randall. “And when we go back to your people to pick up my cousin and drop off half the supplies like we promised, you better tell the truth about what happened, alright? Alexandra was a nut and you know it.”

  Robert fired up the truck and the three of them piled into the front seats, Duncan between them.

  Robert drove back down the network of dirt roads the way they came.

  * * *

  It was nightfall and pitch black outside when Robert pulled the Hi-Lux back to the spot at the dirt road where Joe and his gang had stopped them before.

  Robert brought the vehicle to a steady halt and honked the horn three times. Within thirty seconds, Joe and the other members of his gang materialized out of the trees.

  Randall, Robert, and Duncan climbed out of the Hi-Lux.

  “Where’s my sister?” Robert asked.

  “Hold your horses, where’s the supplies?” asked Joe.

  “WHERE’S MY SISTER?!” Robert demanded to know.

  “Alright, alright,” Joe rolled his eyes. “Get out here, little girl!”

  Jane stepped out from behind one of the trees, her .30-30 rifle in her hands like it had been when they had left. She had no bruises or scratches of any kind as far as Robert could tell.

  “Are you alright, Jane?” Robert asked.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Been sitting over here the whole time with my rifle.”

  “Wait a minute, where’s Alexandra?!” cried Joe. “Where the hell is she?!”

  It was then that Randall noticed Joe had a black semi-automatic pistol of some kind in his hand. He looked at Robert.

  “She’s dead,” Randall said, his hand resting on the grip of his .45 in case anything went bad, which he sensed it might.

  Joe took a moment to let it sink in.

  “What do you mean she’s dead?!” he asked.

  “I mean she turned on us and held us captive at gunpoint,” Randall responded. “We were scavenging at my parents’ place and a neighbor showed up and told her to drop her gun. She didn’t and he shot her when she raised her gun. That’s what happened.”

  “It’
s true, Joe,” said Duncan.

  “Shut up Duncan!” Joe yelled angrily.

  “I said it’s true!” Duncan yelled back.

  Randall pulled out three of the six duffle bags from the back of the Hi-Lux and threw them on the dirt road.

  “There’s half of the supplies like we agreed,” said Randall.