Our Survival: A Collection of Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thrillers

by Williams, Ron

  Epilogue

  More than an hour later, Thomas and Randall stumbled on foot into Garden City.

  Barry and Christine saw them first and their initial look of joy at seeing their grandsons alive was immediately replaced by concern as they saw their condition. Randall’s face was bloody and bruised, one eye completely swollen shut. And as bad as Randall looked, Thomas was leaning heavily on him, holding one side of his chest.

  “Where’s everyone else?” Christine asked with more than a hint of concern.

  “They should be here soon enough,” Randall said. “They’re dealing with Butler’s men who had surrendered. We went on ahead.”

  “What about Butler?” Barry asked.

  “Butler broke and ran, and we chased him,” Randall said. “He’s done. Thomas put a bullet in his chest before he went over a cliff into the river.”

  “Mitchum too, and George,” Thomas added. “The Compound shouldn’t be a problem for us anymore.”

  “You’ve got Jane to thank for you coming back alive,” said Barry. “She was the one who convinced everyone else to go and back you up.”

  “Yes,” their grandmother said. “By the way, Marcus wanted to know which one of you took his Glock.”

  “Don’t make me laugh,” Thomas said with a chuckle.

  “Come on. Let me get you to the church. Claire is running an aid station there.”

  After receiving first aid attention from Claire in the church, Randall and Thomas each took a cot in the infirmary room and quickly fell fast asleep.

  The next morning, they woke up and felt sore in more ways than they’d ever thought possible. Marcus was sitting by their bedsides.

  “I think we’ve done it,” said Marcus. “We can settle in here safely.”

  “You sure?” Randall asked. “I mean, we cut the head off the Compound yesterday, but I don’t think we got them all.”

  “When it became clear they were leaderless, the rest of the men surrendered,” Marcus explained. “We bound them all up and last night, we loaded them up in their trucks and drove them up to the edge of the martial law district. The guys just dropped them there and lit a big signal fire to attract attention.”

  “Might bring military attention here,” Randall said.

  “They’re still stretched too thin near as anybody has been able to tell,” said Marcus, “They’ve got a lot of bigger things to deal with before they come all the way up here.”

  “So we’re safe for a while at least,” Randall said.

  “Safe long enough to get ourselves some eyes and ears around this valley, so we’ll have warning if things start to change,” Marcus stood up to leave.

  “Probably the best we can hope for now,” Thomas said. “What do you think of this town, Randall?”

  Randall looked out the window at people going about their day in Garden City. It may have been a random town in the middle of nowhere, but it was a cozy little place and wouldn’t at all be a bad place to live for awhile.

  Randall smiled and relaxed back into his cot, ready to sleep just a little more.

  “I think it’s a good place to be,” Randall said before closing his eyes.

  “Yeah,” Thomas smiled with him. “Where hope remains.”

  The End

  The Fight For Hope

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  EPILOGUE

  Chapter 1

  “Cover,” Bill Chandler said, slowing down and starting to go for the brush beside the trail.

  He and his wife, Sally, did their best to get out of sight without making any of the kinds of sudden moves that would attract attention.

  They got a little bit off the trail into some brush but didn’t dare go any farther in lest the two gunmen coming up the trail heard them or saw the disturbed greenery in their wake.

  Bill drew his pistol and pulled back the slide to chamber a round. Sally took the cue and pulled her own piece out of its hidden pocket in her purse and readied it.

  They watched as the two men walked along chatting at each other, hoping they’d just keep moving along. Neither of them even dared breathe, and Bill wished that his bug-out bag had included light-weight subdued clothing in it.

  They kept camouflage pullovers in the rucks, but the day was way too hot for those. The red polo shirt he was wearing, and Sally’s yellow t-shirt and day-glow running shoes were the wrong things to be wearing while trying to keep a low profile.

  As if to confirm Bill’s thought process, just before the two men got past their impromptu hiding position one of them looked right at him.

  “Hey!” the guy said.

  He went to unsling his rifle, but Bill was instantly up and in a clean firing stance, with his wife shadowing him smoothly.

  “Don’t you dare,” Bill growled, as he and Sally covered the two gunmen.

  “Alright, alright,” the first man surrendered, putting one hand up.

  The second man hadn’t had a chance to start unslinging before he found himself confronted by two drawn pistols held by people that looked like they knew what they were doing with them.

  “What are you two up to on this trail?” Bill asked.

  “Keeping strangers off it,” the first man said.

  “We got property up this way, so we aren’t strangers in these parts. We were in town shopping when whatever happened, and we just want to get back to our cabin.”

  The second man gave a derisive snort.

  Some of the folks that owned property up in the area were in the McMansion set, buying up the good lakefront land, driving around in immaculately detailed luxury SUVs, and generally complaining about the lack of good lattes and fashionable wines available in the area. They were probably a good part of the confused gaggle that was making a mess of Eureka, About ninety minutes down the trail behind Bill and Sally.

  Bill didn’t have time to explain that he and his wife had honest jobs and they weren’t big money intruding on the wild lands.

  He needed to find some way to get himself and his wife back on their way without anybody pulling a trigger.

  “Look, we’re prepared for the long haul up here, if we can just get back across the lake to our cabin. We go on our way, you go on your way, everything’s good, right?”

  The problem was everything wasn’t good. The two strangers had, wisely, gone straight for their guns when they sighted a couple people trying to hide out in the brush.

  While Bill and Sandy had been able to seize the advantage, the fact was that loaded guns were out. It was real hard to simply walk away once things had gotten to that point.

  Besides that, Bill knew that their pistols would be no match at all for the men’s rifles once they got fifty yards’ distance between them. Their sidearms were meant to be easily concealed, always available and ready in case violence came upon them up close and personal.

  While they were solid 9mm guns with good short-range stopping power, they were not terribly accurate for much farther than they could be thrown.

  “We ducked off the trail because we didn’t want to cause any trouble. We were just hoping you’d pass on by and we’d be on our way,” Sally said. She tried to strike a balance between being firm and conci
liatory. “So, let’s work something out here, shall we?”

  Bill could see the two men reaching the same conclusion on the long range accuracy of their respective weapons that he already had.

  He didn’t think the two were cold-blooded killers, but the whole world had just gone very strange all at once, and the two men in front of him had just been humiliated by a couple of people that they probably still assumed to be well-off vacationers.

  Let’s all have a good laugh about it and go on our own ways, just wasn’t an option at the moment.

  At least he and Sally still had the advantage. They were the ones with guns out and at the ready.

  “What you got there?” the second man asked, motioning towards Bill and Sandy’s rucks.

  “The bug-out bags we keep in the truck,” Bill said. “The usual stuff prepared people keep handy for emergencies just like this.”

  Bill was disappointed to see that neither of the men made any reaction at all to his second pointed mention of being prepared for an SHTF scenario. He’d hoped that might earn him some respect.

  Honest preppers would likely have recognized kindred spirits and agreed to move on, each to their own place. Leave us be, we’ll leave you be and all that.

  These two, if they had gone straight out onto the Pacific Northwest Trail looking to shake down hikers at the first sign of trouble, were not honest brokers.

  Bill would be damned if he was going to buy his way out of harm from a couple guys like that.

  He also decided against mentioning that he had kids that needed the supplies he and Sally were carrying. He was a combat veteran and understood OPSEC.

  He wasn’t going to give them any information they might be able to use in any manner. He also couldn’t waste any more time on the two men. He and Sally were burning daylight, and had a long way to go yet.

  “Look,” Sandy said. “If we wanted to hurt you, you’d be down by now. We’re just looking to get home where we can ride this all out, and let you two get on.“

  “Well, we’ve got to look after ourselves in times like this,” the first man said, indicating Bill and Sandy’s packs.

  It was pretty clear to Bill that they were betting on him and Sally not being the kind that would easily shoot someone. It was a dangerous game for them to play, though.

  Bill had spent time in the Corps in the mountains of Afghanistan. If the two men in front of him pushed hard enough, Bill knew he could take care of business. He’d rather not, and he really didn’t want to attract the kind of attention that gunfire would, but he could do it if they insisted.

  “Here’s how we’re going to handle this,” Bill finally said, deciding to give them one last chance to back away. “We’re not going to take anything from you, but we’ve got to look after ourselves, too. So one at a time, starting with you,” Bill pointed at the first man. “You’re going to real slow drop your magazine, clear the chamber, and set your rifle on the ground. Your buddy here’s going to do the same. And then, real careful, you’re going to open your shirts and drop your trousers so we can make sure you’re not packing anything else. We’re going to take the firing pins with us up the way, and as long as you’re still right here and haven’t followed us, we’ll drop them at the top of that hill up there. Alright? This way we get on our way with our gear, and we don’t take your guns. Nobody walks out of this exchange with less than they started with.”

  * * *

  Less than three hours earlier, Bill and Sandy had been in Eureka, Montana.

  “Hold up, hun,” Sally said, stopping in the middle of an aisle in the drug store. “Are these the gummy candies that Cole really likes?”

  “No…” Bill said. “These ones. The little peach rings.”

  “Right,” she said, taking a bag off the shelf. “And some cinnamon bears for Jenny.”

  They picked up a few other odds and ends as they made their way up to the cash register: a pair of sunglasses to replace the ones Bill had dropped into the lake the day before while they were out fishing with their children, another box of bandages and some antibiotic ointment to restock their first aid kit out at the cabin, a birthday card for Bill’s brother, and some mothballs.

  “Now remember, they only get the sweets if we know they stayed out of the water while we were gone,” Sally said, after they’d paid for their items and were walking out to their car.

  It was late August, and they were enjoying their last week up at their summer cabin between the west shore of Lake Koocanusa and the Kootenai National Forest.

  The kids would be going back to school the following week. Normally, their last trip up for the year would be Labor Day weekend, but this year they were spending it with Sally’s family celebrating her parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary, so they needed to close the cabin down for the winter over the next few days.

  Because it was their last time out for the year, they’d also decided to let Cole and Jenny stay out at the cabin, riding their mountain bikes, instead of bringing them into Eureka when they came into town to refill Bill’s prescription for his cholesterol meds.

  It was the third time they’d left the kids alone at the cabin over the summer. They’d always made noises that once Jenny was twelve, she and Cole would no longer need a sitter if their parents were going to be away for more than a few hours. And now that she was twelve, it was time for them to back it up.

  Leaving them at the cabin while they made the twenty-five mile trek back to Eureka was a lot different to Bill and Sandy than leaving them for a few hours at home, though.

  Their cabin, on a hillside over Dodge Creek, was a cell phone dead zone, and wasn’t on a land line or the electrical grid either. It was a big leap of faith for them to leave the kids out there, knowing they had no reliable way to get in touch with each other, unless one of the kids made a run up onto high ground and managed to catch a bit of signal.

  Still, Bill and Sally prided themselves on not being helicopter parents raising a couple of meek milk-baggers on a steady diet of safe spaces and participation trophies.

  They drove their kids to be sensible, smart, and hard-working, and made sure to recognize it when they stepped up.

  Giving them the autonomy to stay at the cabin for a few hours while mom and dad ran into town to hit the pharmacy and grocery store was how they chose to reward Cole and Jenny for keeping up on their chores and keeping their noses clean for the past couple of weeks.

  The only real problem they’d been having was keeping Cole out of the water. The kid wouldn’t stay away from it. Ever since he’d been born, his parents joked that he was half-duck. He was on his school swim team and was counting the days until he was fifteen and could start lifeguard training.

  He could water ski and roll a kayak and name every single fish found in Montana waters before he’d started middle school. Even though he was only fourteen, he was already planning on attending college somewhere on one of the coasts, where he could study marine biology and learn to scuba dive.

  The Chandlers didn’t mess around with water, though. Bill had lost a brother to a drowning accident when he was a teen, so he was extremely strict about water safety. He insisted that there always be an adult around whenever Cole got in the water.

  Their last stops before heading home were to fuel up the truck and hit the grocery store to cover their last few days at the cabin.

  Less than a hundred feet from the gas station, the vehicle abruptly shut off and started to coast. The radio died, the power steering and brakes and air conditioning all went out.

  The stoplights at the upcoming intersection simultaneously went dark, and the digital sign at the gas station went blank. The neon signs in the windows and the interior lights went straight out – no flicker or dimming.

  Bill and Sally looked at each other while he pressed hard but steady on the brake pedal to bring the truck to a controlled stop and avoid plowing into two vehicles in front of him that had hit each other when their drivers panicked.

  “It can’t be�
�” was the first thing out of Bill’s mouth when he got the truck stopped and looked around at the disabled cars and dark storefronts all around.

  Nothing that took electricity appeared to be working.

  “No,” Sally said. “We’ve got to get back to the cabin.”

  She reached into the concealed carry pocket of her purse and touched the small .380 ACP pistol she kept inside, feeling just a little bit reassured by the cold weight of it. It wasn’t much comfort at that moment, but she’d take what she could get.

  Bill noticed, and reached under his jacket to move his own holster out from where it was usually hidden, inside the waistband of his pants, and clipped it to his belt.

  He usually preferred not to advertise that he was carrying, but there were times when it was good to make it very clear one was not going to be a soft target.

  He looked at the empty gun rack in the back window. It would have been nice to have a rifle or shotgun right about then, but they’d left both of the long weapons back at the cabin. At least that gave the kids some protection.

  “Situation,” Sally said.

  That was their cue for each other to take a moment to figure out what they were facing and sort the best first course of action. Just before they kids were born, Sally had taken a wilderness rescue course.

  One of the things they taught was that in almost no circumstances are you going to make things worse by taking ten or fifteen seconds to look at your situation and figure out what you’re dealing with before you act. Acting with purpose was always better than reacting out of desperation.

  “EMP, maybe?” Bill said. “Two kids more than 40 minutes drive away from us, and our vehicle is disabled. Basic survival gear in the truck. Surrounded by people that might get real stupid at any moment.”

  “We’re not equipped to deal with chaos. We do need to get to the kids,” Sally said.

  “The truck’s not coming back online any time soon, so let’s get out of the stupidity zone.”

  Bill and Sally emptied any important or vital items out of the glove box and console of the truck.

  Back in the extended cab, they always kept a couple of bug-out bags, set up to keep a family of four going for 100 hours: tools, food, emergency blankets, first-aid, solid multitools, hand-cranked flashlight and radio, water filters and purification tabs.