Survival EMP (Book 3): Solar Dawn

by Lopez, Rob

  Doug tended nervously to the fire.

  “They’re coming,” said Rick. “You know what to do?”

  Doug nodded grimly. The five other guys looked on with varying degrees of apprehension.

  Rick took Doug to one side. “Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, does it have to be you?”

  Doug gazed down at his feet. “Better me than one of the younger ones. I’m more expendable.”

  Rick wasn’t sure he agreed, but he honored Doug’s decision. “We’ll be watching, okay?”

  Doug nodded and sucked in his breath. “If anything happens to me …”

  “It won’t come to that,” said Rick quickly.

  “But it might.”

  “Just remember what I told you about your positioning.”

  Fifty yards away, Rick found Scott and Red lying ready, guns aimed through the foliage at the fake camp. Red was the guy who’d lost his finger to the raiders, and the one most eager to trade with Packy for the rifle. He held it awkwardly, so he could use his middle finger on the trigger, but he was determined to play his part. He’d daubed his face with mud and wore a black bandana to hide his auburn hair. Rick thought he looked like an extra from The Deer Hunter. He’d assured Rick he could shoot, but Rick didn’t entirely trust that claim.

  Rick settled down next to them and checked his sightlines. He’d coached Doug on where he should stand in order to remain in sight and not block his shot. “I don’t want you to even think of shooting before I do,” he told Red.

  “Fine with me, unless I get a tempting target, you know?”

  “No. You play ball or you can get the hell out now.”

  “Just joking, man.”

  “I’m not.”

  “How many of them are coming?” said Scott.

  “Just four.”

  “Setup?”

  “Three rifles and a shotgun. One looks like it might be an AR-15.”

  “I’ll focus on him, then.”

  “I’ll take the guy with the shotgun,” said Red, not wanting to be left out.

  “Only when I say so,” reiterated Rick.

  The raiders took their time coming up the trail. Rick placed his sights on the lead raider and began taking mental notes. They were all well armed, with holstered pistols as well as their main weapons. One of them wore a police armored vest, and they all walked casually, expecting little resistance. The leader was the one with the semi-automatic AR-15, which Rick could tell was different from his own M4 because of the longer barrel. Rather than spreading out tactically upon approaching the huts and keeping watch on the flanks as the leader spoke with Doug, they stayed together, backing up their guy by looking intimidating. They seemed pretty angry and Rick decided it wasn’t an act. It wasn’t clear whether they’d been sent with specific orders from the main camp, or whether they’d just dropped by for personal reasons.

  Doug greeted them in a suitably submissive manner. The leader immediately launched questions at him, which Doug responded to with shrugs. The leader turned to his accomplices, as if seeking their opinion, then punched Doug in the face.

  Rick took up the slack in his trigger.

  Doug held his bloodied nose as the leader lashed him with a verbal tirade, accusing Doug of aiding Rick’s group, and of even orchestrating the action of the day before. Doug denied everything, and the leader punched him again and beat him to the ground. Once Doug was on the floor, the leader kicked him, screaming obscenities.

  Red angrily sighted his rifle, but Scott pushed his barrel down.

  “Are you gonna let him get away with that?” hissed Red.

  “Shut up,” murmured Rick.

  Rick had sketched out a couple of scenarios in his mind, each of which was a red line which he wouldn’t permit the raiders to cross. He wouldn’t let them kill Doug, and he wouldn’t let them take him away. Beyond that, it got hazy. If Rick opened fire, the war would start in earnest, and he wasn’t ready for that. The only thing in his favor right now was the element of surprise. If Doug’s estimates of the raiders’ numbers were correct, playing that card prematurely would doom them all.

  But as the leader kept kicking Doug, Rick thought that maybe he couldn’t wait much longer. Internal injuries would kill Doug as effectively as a gunshot.

  Rick began a countdown, and Scott appeared to be on the same wavelength, removing his hand from Red’s gun barrel and taking careful aim.

  The leader stepped back. In spite of his anger, he looked out of shape, exacerbated by the climb up the mountain. Panting heavily, he shouted, “You’d better not be lying!”

  Doug, curled up, didn’t respond.

  Having made their point, the raiders left.

  “Shadow them,” Rick told Scott.

  The others from the camp had gathered around Doug and were helping him up when Rick got to him.

  One of the helpers directed a question to Rick. “Where were you guys? How could you let them do this?”

  Rick didn’t answer. He examined Doug.

  “How are you doing?” he asked him.

  “I’m okay,” said Doug, spitting out blood.

  Red came into the camp.

  “Hey Red,” called the same helper. “Why didn’t you shoot the sons of bitches?”

  “I tried,” said Red, “but these guys wouldn’t let me.”

  The helper turned back to Rick. “What’s the goddamn point of you being here?”

  “Easy, fellas,” said Doug. “I’m fine.”

  “They damn near killed you, Doug.”

  Doug straightened up with a grimace. “Takes more than that to kill a Cherokee.”

  “Shit, you’re only an eighth Indian.”

  “Well, that’s the part they were hitting. And I think you can get that squirrel meat off the fire now. It’s gonna be as dry as hell.”

  While they attended to that, Doug took Rick to one side. “Come with me. I need to show you something.”

  “I think we need Sally to take a look at you.”

  “That’d be nice, but maybe later. I want to take you up the mountain first.”

  They hiked up the mountain trails, Doug stopping every now and again to catch his breath, rubbing at his ribs. He paused at a stream to splash water on his face to wash away the blood.

  “Any hard feelings at what happened back there?” asked Rick.

  “Nah. I understand.”

  “We’ll get them back.”

  Doug rubbed at the blood that still trickled from a nostril. “I’m counting on it. It’s gotta end some day, right?”

  “One way or the other.”

  They passed a small clearing where the wooden bee hives were gathered, the air filled with humming. “We got these from Camp Grier,” said Doug. “The little fellas needed a home.”

  “Good call.”

  “But there’s more. Come on.”

  Doug led him up to a narrow fissure in a rock face. A stream flowed from the fissure. Doug stepped into the stream and squeezed through the fissure. Rick followed.

  Inside, the cave roof sloped down until they were forced onto their hands and knees. It got more claustrophobic than Rick was comfortable with, but Doug kept going. Darker and darker it became, until Rick could no longer see anything, but he felt the tunnel roof scraping along his back. The sides closed in until there was no room to turn around. The only way out would have been to reverse. Ahead, he could still hear Doug’s exertions. It seemed crazy to continue, but Rick pushed on, putting his trust in the guy. He kept going until he bumped into Doug’s upright legs.

  “You can stand up now,” said Doug.

  The scraping of a match was followed by a flame as Doug lit an oil lamp, chasing the darkness out of a wide, shallow cave. The floor was dry, the stream issuing from somewhere else in the tunnel, and piled on it were stores of canned food, climbing equipment, ropes and sports recurve bows with clusters of carbon fiber arrows. Doug picked up the lamp to illuminate a series of scratches on the walls that vaguely resembled animals and tre
es.

  “This is a sacred place,” said Doug. “It is said that the ones who scratched these drawings were here before the Cherokee, and they laid offerings here to the spirit of the mountain.” Doug shrugged a little. “I figured the spirit wouldn’t mind if we stored the things we got from the summer camp here, for our need is great.” Doug moved the lamp close to Rick’s face. “I think maybe the spirit called you here to help us.”

  Rick sifted through the bows. A couple of them were low pressure items, more suitable for children, but the rest were good quality competition bows.

  “Do you know how to shoot these?” he asked.

  “Nah. My people were more partial to Springfield rifles and Winchesters, but you’re a warrior. I’m sure you can work it out.”

  Rick had actually been trained to use a bow at the Special Warfare Center, but it had been a while. The carbon arrows didn’t have the bladed arrow heads he preferred for silent killing, but they would do.

  “Let’s get this stuff outside. You don’t need to hide it anymore.”

  *

  Sally toured the mountainside settlements, carrying her medical bag. Something that Rick had mentioned troubled her. Trekking the precarious little paths, she passed the numerous graves, each cluster of markers bearing one family name or another. Death had come to one small group after another, and she wanted to know why.

  The people she met greeted her warily. The children were listless and hollow-eyed. According to her inquiries, people were eating enough – just – but many looked unhealthy, and they were scratching themselves constantly. She entered one hut to examine someone sick, and the sight of the rashes was enough to confirm her worst fears. She’d seen this too often working in missions in Africa.

  She intercepted Rick and Doug as they came back down the mountain.

  “Sally, I want you to take a look at Doug, just to make sure he’s okay.”

  “We’ve got bigger problems,” said Sally.

  “What?”

  “Typhus.”

  Rick groaned. This was one more problem he didn’t need.

  “Everyone’s infested with lice,” continued Sally.

  “Lice?”

  Doug absently scratched himself. “Yeah, the little critters like to make themselves at home.”

  “It’s your homes that are the problem,” said Sally. “Dirt floors and poor hygiene. The lice carry the disease. We need to run an eradication program.”

  “What do you have in mind?” said Rick.

  “A laundry service. The lice live in clothing. We need to get some big pots and boil the laundry. And get everyone to wash themselves in soap.”

  “What about the ones who are already sick?”

  “We need to isolate them. The better weather’s bringing everyone out. The more they mingle, the quicker the disease spreads.”

  “That would explain why people have been getting sicker since the winter,” said Doug.

  “Exactly. I can’t do anything for the ones already sick, but if we don’t halt the spread, your whole community will be dead by the fall. Trust me, I’ve seen this before.”

  Doug sighed. “Well, it’s bad news, but I guess the mountain spirit brought you here for a reason too.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” interjected Rick. “Start the program immediately. And Doug, I want all the volunteer fighters housed in a different area. Can’t afford to lose any of them. The sooner we wipe out the raiders, the sooner we get off this mountain.”

  Doug looked at him. “You really think you can do it, don’t you?”

  “Not really. We’re low on ammunition and we’ve got bows and arrows. But given that it’s a choice between that or dying in some miserable hut, I know which I prefer.”

  18

  For several days, Bergen Mountain became a hive of activity. People came and went, trees were felled and strange things were constructed that Dee neither understood nor cared about. Detached from everything that was going on, she was increasingly ignored and isolated. Having diligently engineered her own solitude, she felt as alone as she had during her time with Boss’s gang.

  And now there was the issue of typhus to deal with.

  Jacob squirmed in her embrace as she sat on a log. She didn’t want to put him down because there was only the forest floor for him to crawl on and there were too many hazards for him to explore. He might even roll down the slope and hurt himself. As he squirmed, Jacob held on tight to her finger. He appeared to be caught in the same dilemma as Dee: wanting to break free but unable to let go.

  “He’s very wriggly, isn’t he?”

  Dee turned, seeing little Lizzy in the shadow of the trees. She hadn’t heard the girl approach.

  “He is,” said Dee tersely, habitually defensive.

  “Wouldn’t it be good if he could play? I like to see him play.”

  Dee found it hard to stay sour with Lizzy. It was easier to raise her walls against the others. But against a child? It didn’t seem right. Lizzy was no threat to her.

  “The ground’s dirty, and there’s a lot of stones and stuff. Jacob’s just going to pick it all up and put it in his mouth.”

  Lizzy giggled. “Why would he do that?”

  “To taste it. It’s how he … explores the world.”

  “Ewww,” said Lizzy.

  Dee wanted to smile, then reminded herself she shouldn’t. She couldn’t afford to weaken herself and let the feelings back. Being antagonistic was the only way she could keep from curling up and crying.

  “Doesn’t matter,” she murmured. “I’m not going to give him the chance to do that. He’ll make himself sick.”

  “Scott said we should always wash our hands before we put them anywhere near our mouths,” said Lizzy dutifully.

  “Right.”

  “Have you been to the cave?”

  “What cave?”

  “I heard Daddy talking. He says there’s a cave.”

  “Okay.”

  Lizzy leaned forward conspiratorially. “We have bees,” she whispered. She glanced around. “I don’t like bees.”

  “Me neither.”

  “Do you know we have big cook pots from a restaurant? I’ve never seen them so big.”

  “I’ve seen them.”

  “We’re cooking clothes in them! I hope we’re not going to eat them. The water smells bad.”

  Jacob was by now totally focused on Lizzy’s random talk, and he wasn’t struggling anymore.

  “I don’t think we’re going to eat them,” said Dee.

  “Oh I know that really. Mummy says we have to wash everything because of the insects, but she’s busy, so April is having to do everything.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “Yes. And Daniel has to help his mother, so he can’t play. Do you know how to wash clothes?”

  “In a pot? Can’t say I’ve tried.”

  “April says you just have to stir it with a stick, but it’s very boring.”

  “I guess it is.”

  “She could do with someone to talk to.”

  Dee got the sense she was being hinted at, but Lizzy innocently veered off onto another subject.

  “If Jacob wants to play, I can get a blanket for him to crawl on. I’ll make sure he stays on it, then he can’t eat anything bad.”

  “The ground’s uneven here.”

  “It’s flat in front of the huts. I guess people have been walking on it a lot.”

  “I’m fine here.”

  Jacob leaned over to try and touch Lizzy.

  “Aww, look, he wants to play. Please can I get a blanket? I promise I won’t let him crawl off it.”

  Dee was getting a little tired of holding onto the baby. He was growing bigger by the day, it seemed, and she wasn’t getting any stronger.

  “Okay,” she conceded. “But not here.”

  “I’ll get the blanket now,” said Lizzy enthusiastically, running off.

  Dee picked herself up and wandered in Lizzy’s wake
back to the huts. She slowed when she saw the cook pot on the fire. April was adding clothes to the steaming pot and Chuck hung dripping wet clothes onto one of multiple lines strung between the trees. His torso was heavily bandaged and he moved slowly and stiffly. April nodded to Dee to acknowledge her presence, but didn’t say anything. If she had, Dee would have about-turned and left.

  Lizzy came running out of a hut with a blanket and laid it out. “He can play here,” she called, patting the blanket.

  Daniel emerged carrying twigs for the fire, which seemed largely a wasted effort, as the little he could carry would only last seconds in the blaze needed to keep so much water boiling. Rubbing his hands on his pants, he came over to see Jacob being laid down on the blanket. He sat down next to Lizzy.

  “Wash your hands, Daniel,” said Lizzy seriously. “We have a baby here.”

  “There’s water and soap over there,” called April to her son.

  “Do I have to?” moaned Daniel.

  “Yes,” said his mother.

  “We don’t want the baby to get ill,” explained Lizzy.

  Daniel went off in a huff, and for a moment Dee thought there was going to be a scene.

  She also got the sense the charade was being played out for her benefit and she turned around, expecting everyone to be looking at her. April and Chuck, however, remained immersed in their tasks.

  Jacob took to the blanket with gusto and immediately crawled to the edge. Lizzy intercepted him and, somewhat conveniently, produced a squeaky duck that she used to get his attention.

  A little too convenient, thought Dee. But Jacob liked the distraction and, upon grabbing it, put it to his mouth.

  “He’s exploring it,” said Lizzy with a triumphant smile.

  “Sure,” said Dee.

  Lizzy pulled faces in front of Jacob, and he laughed. For the first time in a long time, Dee relaxed, in spite of her nagging paranoia, and when Daniel returned with clean hands, the three children played quite naturally. Dee felt a weight lifting off her shoulders.