The Hidden Survivor

by Connor Mccoy

  Something about her reminded him of his own mother. She’d been a dark-haired woman, once beautiful, at least he’d remembered her that way. But the stress and worry of the living in the projects had aged her. She had not married his father, never married at all. She was fiercely independent, but raising children alone is not easy. There were times when he came home from school to find a new man in the house. It never lasted long. Either Tyrell did something the man didn’t like, or his mother did. They’d stomp out angrily, as if they would have stayed if only Tyrell and his mom hadn’t ruined it. Even then Terror knew bullshit when he saw it.

  And then she had fallen in with some guy who had promised to help her out, but he’d only rented her body to men from the street. His mother had gone downhill, using drugs and alcohol to dull the humiliation and pain of finding herself a prostitute. Young Tyrell had run and he’d ended up in the place least like the projects that he could find. The military.

  He remembered his mother’s face the day he left. She was angry, like this woman. Betrayed by a man once again. A bruise on her cheek and a cast on her arm, broken by the man who’d professed to love her. Tyrell doubted she was still alive, but if he ran into that pimp again he would be dead before he knew what hit him. And that was God’s truth.

  Something about the way the man walked reminded Terror of the doctor who’d put him back together after an IED had gone off next to a transport he’d been riding in. They had the same bearing. The military doc had been tough. He’d laid it out for Terror, plain and simple. Either work through the pain and force his body back into its former condition or be discharged. Those were the choices.

  Terror had chosen the hard route, and that damn doctor had been there every inch of the way, goading Terror on. Pushing him to the limit and the pushing him some more. He never gave up on Terror, and Terror never gave up on himself. He pushed himself through the pain and got his body back. He may have been even stronger than before. He was on active status for two more years after he was shipped back to his unit. Two years of all-out war. He’d given it his best and would have stayed longer, but everyone has to come home sooner or later.

  He’d come back stateside and was planning to retire when he heard the podcast that changed his life. It was about the effects of an Electrical Magnetic Pulse, otherwise known as an EMP, on America. He still could remember the sound of the commentator’s voice.

  “The collapse of the United States will be complete. If this EMP blast were detonated in the Midwest, most of the North American continent would feel its effects, and we would be thrust back into the seventeenth century. North Korea is counting on the demise of America, and you’d better be ready.

  Only the blast hadn’t come from North Korea, it had been a storm from outer space. And North Korea had been just as affected as the rest of the world, according to the ham radio operators.

  Soldiers had gone AWOL from the army, many trying to make their way back to their families. But Terror didn’t truck with that. He went hunting, dragging as many AWOL soldiers back to the army as he could find. What the army did with them was their concern.

  And because of that podcast he’d been ready. The army pretty much had fallen apart without technology, but not Terror. He had planned and he was ready. This town was only one of many he’d created across the United States, and he had plans to make many more. He would continue converting backward, powerless towns into mini-civilizations, with power and food. Places where children could be raised in safety.

  Because that was his plan, to build an America that was safe for women and children. A place were neither was bought or sold. Where every person had enough to eat, every adult had a job to do, and no child was getting beaten just for being there. He would bring safety and compassion, strength, and understanding.

  But to do that he had to maintain the reputation of a badass who had no mercy. He pulled his mind back to the matter at hand. What to do with this pair of intruders? Who would they want to meet? The level-headed leader, of course, a man who could be reasoned with. So, what would he give them? The Terror.

  He pulled a tomahawk from his utility belt, and as the two approached, he whipped it around and caught the man across the back of the neck, pulling him close until they were face to face. “They call me Terror,” he said. “What are you doing in my town?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The cold steel against the back of Glen's neck was painful, and he felt fear-filled adrenaline rush through every cell of his body. He hadn't felt fear since the accident. The cold metal on his neck had the same effect as the eighteen-wheeler screaming up the wrong side of the road. He felt sick to his stomach, but pulled a deep breath in through his nose. And another, until he felt calm enough to speak.

  "We need antibiotics for a man who is injured," Glen said. He was careful to keep every word precise. Christian wasn't precisely a friend, so he wouldn't call him that. There was no room for lies in a situation like this.

  "Where is this injured man?" Terror asked.

  "Outside of town," Glen replied. "We didn't bring him with us. He's with another woman who is supposed to be keeping an eye on him. He was attacked, by a bear, I think, and I'm pretty sure he's going to go into septic shock and die if I don't get those antibiotics to him."

  "And why is this so important to you? Is he related to you in some way?" Terror asked, his eyes cold and calculating.

  "I'm a doctor," Glen said," a surgeon. Three people showed up on my doorstep, the man was bleeding profusely from a gut wound. I couldn't turn them away. I might have been the only person who could help within one hundred miles. I couldn't in good conscience turn them away. Could I?"

  Terror kept quiet, looking steadily into Glen's eyes.

  Glen found it unnerving, but he looked steadily back. Proving he was telling the truth and willing this man to believe him. He wished Terror would release the tomahawk. It hurt, and he wished he could put his hand back there to see if he was bleeding. But he stood still and gazed into the dark brown eyes, waiting for the verdict.

  "He's telling the truth," Mia said, having finally found her voice. "We came here for medicine. When we saw all the barricades, we thought it would take too long to try explaining, so we snuck in. We weren't going to take much, just enough antibiotics to save Christian."

  This was a lie, and Glen wished she'd just left out that detail. Never lie if you don't have to do so. He didn't know how he knew this was true, but he did. Do not let them catch you in a lie. Because if they do, they won't believe anything else you say.

  Terror's eyes flicked away to examine Mia and then back to Glen. "Is that true?" he asked.

  "About ninety percent true," Glen said.

  "Once we saw everything you had, I'm not sure we could have resisted taking some painkillers and sterile bandages as well. But the original plan was to take just the antibiotics." He hoped Mia didn't feel betrayed, but he didn't dare lie to this man. He still had hope Terror would let him go.

  The eyes flicked to Mia again. "That true?" Terror asked.

  "Yes," Mia replied, "that's true."

  "You see anything else you wanted in there?" Terror asked.

  "Yes, birth control pills," Mia said. "Rape and pregnancy are a real risk out there."

  "That is true," Terror said, and his gaze flicked back to Glen. He slid the tomahawk from behind Glen's neck.

  Glen straightened and rubbed the back of his neck. No blood. So, Terror knew exactly how much pressure to exert. He felt the beginnings of a sigh of relief and held it back. A sigh would be a display of weakness, and he didn't dare show that either.

  Terror turned to Mia and started grilling her about her experience as a woman before and after the end. Glen, who had heard this all before, let his mind slip back. What was Sara's experience as a woman, he wondered. He'd assumed it was good, that she'd had everything she wanted and was sheltered from abuse. But was that true?

  He thought about Sarah. When he first had met her she'd had ambitions. Things
that she wanted to do with her life. It had seemed easy and natural for her to give them up when Clarence was born. But maybe that was just his perspective. Had she resented being left at home with a toddler while he went off into the world every day?

  Did she secretly yearn to be free of him? Were her days spent online looking for the life she had planned for? Clarence wasn't a demanding child, maybe she didn't spend all her time playing with the boy, as he had assumed.

  He found himself short of breath at the thought that Sarah might have resented him. He took a couple of breaths as surreptitiously as he could to calm himself. What was he doing working himself into a lather over the past when the present was so dangerous? He knew the human mind had a tendency to redirect when it found the present too stressful, but he should know better. If there was a time in his life he needed to be present, it was now.

  Terror still was talking with Mia. In fact, it seemed not many minutes had gone by, since she still was explaining her need for birth control.

  "Not only that," she was saying, "women die giving birth, even with all the modern monitors and what not. Now that those things are unavailable more women will die in childbirth. I'm just not interested. Can you imagine the irony, to get pregnant because you've been raped, and then to die giving birth to that child? Yeah. Not for me."

  "But what makes you think you will be raped?" he asked. "You can't protect yourself, maybe, but what about the men in your party?"

  "Like the one who is currently dying because he was too stupid to run away from a bear?" she asked. "We can't rely on anyone anymore. If we go into a town as a group asking to trade for something, we don't have anything they want. They have plenty of men, so they don't need labor or security. Then that leaves women. Even if Christian was to say no, we very well could be overpowered."

  "I supposed that could be true," Terror said. "I have seen a lot of brutality in my time."

  "And then there's getting your period." She glanced up and saw the look of aversion on Terror's face. "Sorry, I forget guys don't like talking about women's physical issues. I'll just say that birth control pills can make it stop. Right, Doc?"

  "They can indeed," Glen said.

  "That eliminates the need for a whole lot of feminine products, to say nothing of leaving a blood trail for every predator to follow." She shrugged. "So, are you going to kill us, or what?"

  Terror laughed.

  Glen backed up a step in confusion. Was that a genuine laugh? It didn't sound like the laugh of an evil maniac getting ready to do someone in.

  "Not today," Terror said. "But I still must think what to do with you and your dying friend in the woods. Please have a seat while I discuss this with my men."

  "Can we have our hands untied?" Mia asked. "It's really uncomfortable to sit like this."

  Glen shot her a look. Had she forgotten her hands were just taped together? She caught his eye and bit her lip. She had forgotten.

  "No." Terror had not noticed her confusion. "Do I look stupid?"

  One of the men laughed and Terror shot him a look that shut him up. “Stay put,” he said to Mia and Glen. “We’ll be back in a minute.” He motioned to his men to follow him into the hallway.

  The second they were out of the room Glen leaned forward to whisper to Mia. “We both are not going to be able to escape. So, if the opportunity comes, you need to run for it. There’s an exit sign down there at the end of the room. Your hands are already free. You run and I’ll knock over anyone who comes after you, okay?”

  “No way am I leaving you here.” Mia’s cheeks flushed as she spoke. “After everything you’ve done for us. It’s just not happening.”

  “Listen, Christian can die if he doesn’t get those capsules. You have to run when you get the chance, because we don’t know when we’ll get the opportunity again. You hear me? You are his only chance for survival.” Glen glared at Mia. He didn’t know how to make her understand how serious the situation was for Christian. “I’m serious, Mia. He needs medicine now.”

  “But what if they kill you? I’ll have that on my conscience for the rest of my life. You think I could stand that? Knowing that I’d left you to die?” A tear ran down her face.

  Glen wanted to remind her that just a week ago they’d been ready to kill him for the stuff in his cabin, but he didn’t. “There is no sense in both of us dying,” he said. “If they start killing, it won’t be just me. So we are saving you and Christian. Got it?”

  Her lower lip quivered.

  “I’m good at talking my way out of things. If it looks as though they’re going to bump me off, I’ll bargain with them. Having a surgeon in house will look pretty appealing to them. I guarantee you. So, at the very worst, you’ll run away thinking I’m stuck in this town for the rest of my days. But that’s not such a bad thing. They have food and medicine, and hey – refrigeration. I could have cold beer. So, go and don’t feel sorry for me. My life will be easier than yours.”

  “I still don’t know,” Mia started.

  “Hush,” Glen said. “I don’t want them to hear us talking.”

  The conversation in the hallway had died down and Glen expected them to return any moment. It was then that church bells started ringing furiously.

  Chapter Sixteen

  There were confused yells from the entryway. A door slammed open and someone yelled “Fire at the north entrance!”

  Finally, Glen thought, our diversion.

  “Go now!” Glen hissed at Mia, not wanting to alert the men sooner than needed. “Run!”

  She took off like a shot. She may have been short, but she had a lot of speed in those legs.

  Glen heard Terror yell, “Go back and watch the captives!” A second later, Third Eye ran back into the room. It took him no time at all to spot Mia tearing for the exit and he started after her. Glen launched himself from the chair, driving his shoulder into the man’s midsection. They went down in a heap. Glen was on top of Third Eye and tried trapping him by wrapping his legs around Third Eye’s midriff.

  He was partially successful. He managed to delay Third Eye for a few precious seconds before the man shook him off and went running after Mia. Mia was long gone by that time, and Glen hoped she was able to stay out of his clutches. He sat back down in his chair and waited for the inevitable punishment.

  It was a while coming. First, Third Eye came back and kicked out at Glen as he passed on his way out the front. The kick missed. Mike came in and sat in a chair near the door, keeping an eye on Glen. Glen could have told him not to bother. As long as he didn’t try escaping, Mia was probably safe. If Glen tried to escape too, then they’d probably hunt them both down. So, he stayed put, closing his eyes and catnapping in the silence.

  He did wonder what was happening in the outside world. For a while, through the open window he could hear yelling and people running, but after a while it all calmed down. Glen let his chin drop down to his chest and rested. He would have loved to lean back or lie down, but with his hands behind his back the discomfort made it not worth it.

  He was dozing when Terror came back in and roughly shook him awake. “Hmm?” he mumbled. He couldn’t rub his eyes with his hands, so he rubbed his face on his upper arms. He blinked at Terror, who was standing over him, clearly angry.

  “Did you know about that little stunt?” Terror asked.

  “I did.” Glen nodded slowly. He was so very tired.

  “And what did you think to accomplish by burning one of our vehicles?”

  “It was just a diversion, only it came too late. Or maybe we came too early. We should have waited, but the pharmacy looked empty and the streets were quiet, so we went ahead.” Glen felt the gloom overtake him. He’d planned correctly, but his follow through left a lot to be desired. At least Mia was free.

  “Did the girl take medication back to your friend?” Terror asked.

  “That was the plan,” Glen said. “If she didn’t make it, another man will die.”

  “One may die anyway,” Terror sa
id. “One of my men was severely burned putting out that fire.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Glen said. He couldn’t bring himself to look Terror in the eye. “I hope he recovers.”

  “Too bad you aren’t a burn doctor,” Terror said. “Since you’re not, and I’m tired of dealing with you, this is your punishment for not being upfront with me.” He raised a pistol and struck Glen on the back of the head.

  Glen saw a burst of light, felt searing pain, and then everything went black.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mia was running with everything she had. Luckily, almost everybody in the town already had run to the fire and weren’t looking in their backyards to see her hopping over fences and dodging around raised garden beds. She knew it was crazy, but she didn’t want to trample anyone’s garden. Food sources were too important to trample on. And she was fast and could afford an extra step or two.

  She ran behind the houses, one block over from the library. It had been tricky getting there, first tearing out of the library and running along the fence behind the elementary school, all the while afraid that any second now one of Terror’s men would grab her by the neck. She’d heard one of them come out the same exit she had. So, she’d thrown herself on the ground and rolled under a hedge. When she heard him thunder off in the wrong direction she’d rolled back out from under the hedge to find a German shepherd staring her in the face.

  She’d frozen, remembering the pain of a dog bite from her childhood, but the dog had sniffed her and wandered off to raise his leg on the chain-link fence. She nearly burst into tears with relief but reined it in and started running again. The dog ran with her for about a block, but when she stopped to see if she could safely cross over into the next block, he’d wandered off to sniff something else.

  That was good. It was hard enough keeping her own footfalls quiet. She’d waited until a child down the block had disappeared inside a house before dashing across the pavement and between two homes. That was when she started vaulting fences.