25 Bombs Fell: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Series, 25BF Season 1
Page 19
Too late to do anything about it.
“City,” Bruce said, “if I was you I’d step aside.”
Toby laughed. “Yeah, don’t cross him, unless you wanna have some trouble, like Colton did.”
“Hey,” Bruce yelled, jerking his head around to Toby.
The two at the door suppressed their laughter.
Bruce turned back to Nate. He wobbled and had to stagger to keep his balance. “You have a big mouth and I’m sick of your city attitude. We’re not in the city. Things work different here.” He swayed, his eyes continually blinking as if he fought to keep them open. “In fact, it’s time for some of us to go.”
“Go?” Nate said, putting his left hand in his chempants pocket. He couldn’t remember if he still had his bayonet knife in it.
“Yeah, go. Some in this group ain’t welcome around here. They might cause problems.”
“Bruce, what about Colton? Is he here? You’re supposed to protect the group. You’re the leader.”
Toby and Sam moved closer to Bruce.
“They should thank Parks,” Bruce said, “because he’s letting them leave.”
“Who? What are you talking about?”
“The panthers.” Bruce pointed to Charles. “Them. Especially after what they did to Donovan. You saw what they did. He was one of the Herd.”
Sam nodded, head bowed down.
“I’m the leader,” Bruce continued. “I convinced Parks to let some of you go. He’s forgiving. Women and children can go. Also Efrem and Enoch. They’re old.”
Nate shook his head. “No.” He didn’t need to ask the twenty-five for a vote; he spoke for them. Enoch had mentioned it moments ago. They wanted him instead of Bruce.
“We’ve discussed this,” Nate said. “We all want to leave. Leave this place and continue to Florida.”
“Well.” Bruce stepped close to Nate. His breath smelled like he hadn’t brushed in a year, but Nate didn’t flinch. “That’s too bad. I’m still the leader. I have the say-so for all of us.”
He turned his head and coughed, then forced himself to cough more, drawing up mucus. Turning back to Nate, he spit the snot onto Nate’s shirt. He wiped his mouth with his arm.
“You don’t know what I’ve put up with,” Bruce said. “I’ve been told that I should feel bad for them. Every day they tell me I’m guilty for what happened. I never had slaves. My dad didn’t either. Every day I’m told it’s my fault. It’s not my fault what happened to them.
“But in this world, all things have been reset. We have a chance now. The strongest can be the one who survives. It’s all a board game now.”
Toby laughed and lifted his rifle. “And we own all four railroads.”
Bruce laughed too.
The outside firelight glinted off the bottle Bruce held in his hand, unnoticed until now.
“Now,” Bruce said, “people will have to choose which side they fight for. There’s no more government. It’s a free-for-all.”
Nate shook his head. “There’s no choosing. We’re all leaving.”
Light exploded in his eyes and then everything went black.
04.05
MIRIAMVILLE
Nate’s eyes sprang open, then his head continued the explosion of pain, throbbing in angry protest.
The smell of rotten hay no longer filled his nose.
Trees surrounded him.
He was no longer in the barn, but in the comfort of foliage and trees. Outside.
He tried to sit up from the cool earth but the ground wobbled and his head was too heavy to lift.
Enoch and Yvonne bent over him.
“You’ll live,” Enoch said. His old eyes looked tired. Nate should’ve been tending to him, rather than the other way around.
“Are you okay?” Yvonne said. She pressed something wet and cold to his head.
“I don’t know,” Nate said. “What happened?”
“Bruce happened,” Enoch said. “He sucker-punched you. Or sucker broke a bottle over your head.”
Yvonne flipped the cold compress and reapplied it. “Lucky he didn’t kill you.” She leaned over to inspect his head.
“Ow,” Nate attempted to sit up again but stopped and clutched his ribs as pain shot through his left side.
Enoch noticed his wincing. “Oh, yeah, he kicked you a few times while you were out. Lucky Henry was there to pull him off you.”
“Yeah, lucky,” Nate said as he touched his tender side. “Where are we? How long have I been out?”
He looked around and saw that he rested on a bed of piled leaves and a couple of chemjackets. Two more jackets made a makeshift blanket, covering him.
“Hours,” Enoch said. “You’ve been out hours. Almost a day. We’re just outside of Miriamville. I believe that’s what the sign said. We’ve been moving pretty much since Bruce ran us off. He said if we didn’t get as far away from them as possible, he couldn’t guarantee our safety.”
Nate thought about where he’d heard of that city before, but just thinking made his head throb in protest with starbursts and pain. “Everyone here?”
“No,” Enoch said. “Besides me, there are Efrem and Jordana. I guess we’re no threat, or they didn’t have a use for us. The same for Yvonne and Desiree. Henry’s with us. Toby wanted Tala to stay. They argued about it. Finally, Amber threw a fit so Bruce managed to let Tala go. Parks demanded Meredith stay. The men they kept. It’s all not good.”
Nate attempted to sit up again. Yvonne, tears now streaming from her eyes unchecked, pushed him back to the ground. “Not yet, you’re not well.” Nate couldn’t resist her strength and gave up the fight.
“Maybe so. Just a couple more minutes of rest,” he said, closing his eyes.
He dreamed of a barn full of people screaming from unimaginable atrocities.
Nate opened his eyes to a small fire that crackled, embers sparkling with the burning of green limbs and pine cones.
He rested on his pallet of piled leaves near the fire.
They had set up camp on the edge of a line of trees that butted up to cultivated land, the peanut plants—that was what Jordana had told him these plants were—a stark green against the surrounding browns and grays.
Nearby, an old shack, something like a pumphouse, had been converted to a temporary clothesline. From protruding nails chempants hung, damp from trudging through shaded woods and wet undergrowth.
Henry bent down and helped him sit upright. “How ya doing?” he said.
Nate smiled at his friendly accent.
His throbbing head protested his smiling.
“Hey, Henry, nice to see you. You didn’t stay with Bruce. They didn’t keep you there?”
“No, no. Something wasn’t right about the whole thing. Something evil. I played along with them, acting like a good ol’ boy. When they split us up, someone needed to carry you. They kept all the men, except Efrem and Enoch. I didn’t want to imagine what would happen if you were left there. I told them I could carry you. Bruce was happy to be rid of you.” He gave a big smile. “I may sound like a country bumpkin, but I don’t always think like one.”
“Thanks,” Nate said. “So where are we?”
“I led us to Miriamville, near the border with Florida. The outskirts of the town, anyway. I didn’t want to get any closer, not without scouting it first. Figured maybe we can find some supplies. Toby told me they stay away from here. Something about gods and angels around here. By then he had about a half bottle of Kentucky whiskey in him, so I don’t know if that was just Jack talking.”
Finally feeling the strength return to his legs, Nate braced himself onto Henry’s wide shoulders. With Henry’s help, Nate stood on unsteady legs. “Gods and angels. Has everyone gone off the deep end?”
“Looks that way. You feeling up to taking a look around town?”
“He ain’t going nowhere till he’s better.” Yvonne came from the trees, a canteen and rags in her hand.
The two moved to a half-crumbled brick wall and sa
t on the two-foot-high remains. Henry filled Nate in on more details of the time that he was unconscious.
According to Henry, Yvonne had nursed him, carefully making bandages and keeping his gashed head free from dirt and infection, at least as far as she could tell. She tended to him every minute he was out. She probably would’ve carried him over her back if she had been able to.
The rest just sat around, waiting.
But who knew what for?
Yvonne came back from her rounds of tending to everyone else’s needs and wanted to examine Nate’s wounds again.
“Yvonne, thanks, but I think I’m okay now. Well enough, at least,” he said, smiling to show he meant it. “Henry and I are going to scout the town.”
She put her hands on her hips. She looked like she had still been crying. “Well, I think you need more rest.”
Nate stood and went to the pile of gear. He found his chemjacket and zipped it, then started searching for a web belt and canteen.
“I want to go.” Nate stopped at Tala’s voice and turned to her.
“You. Why?”
“Cause I’m a soldier,” she said. “That’s what Will assigned me to do. I’m not a piece of meat for men to fight over.”
“But...” The look in her eyes told him he would lose any argument he made. And he was too tired to fight, anyway. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “Of course you can come. I can’t think of anyone better.”
Yvonne handed him a belt and full canteen.
“Thanks,” he said as he buckled on the belt. “Watch the fire. Put it out soon. Take care of everyone until we get back.”
Nate led Henry and Tala to scout Miriamville, Georgia, leaving the five other members, the last remnants of the twenty-five, behind in the woods.
04.06
DESOLATION AND DECEIT
Miriamville was no bigger than Haven. Maybe even smaller.
A central three-story courthouse surrounded by strip malls made up the entire downtown. A few residential houses extended beyond that.
Like the Herd’s farm, this town had been dying long before the bombs fell.
Unlike Haven, though, bombs did not fall here.
The buildings showed signs of a nation gone wild. Looting, fire, and chaos had destroyed most everything.
After searching a couple stores, the three found small camping backpacks in a Salvation Army, along with more clothing. In an Asian market they gathered cans of vegetables and a half-spilled bag of rice and packed them away.
One of the items they searched for were flashlights, but none were found.
Fortunately, the looming full moon provided plenty of light. Only a couple sparse clouds littered the sky.
The empty, desolate houses and businesses, cast in a lunar blue, gave the town a surreal look.
Using the main road that bisected the town, they reached the opposite side quicker than they’d expected.
A roadway sign thanked them for visiting Miriamville and for not littering.
They stopped as they passed the sign and came to a power substation. Next to it, a thin radio transmission tower scaled the sky.
“I think we’ve come to the end,” Tala said.
“Halt!”
They froze in the moonlight to the command of a bodiless voice, each looking to see where it came from. A silhouette shifted in the shadow of a short billboard low to the ground, advertising the Miracle Strip Amusement Park, Miriamville’s premier family fun place.
“Don’t go any farther,” the voice said. “Identify yourselves.”
The voice, like the town, was familiar, both things Nate should’ve known. But the head wound still clouded his thinking.
He raised his hands. “I’m Nathaniel Bowen. We’re just exploring, looking for some food.”
“Nate?” the voice said.
Finally, his mind clicked. “Jacob?”
The ghostly figure stepped into the moonlight, lowering his rifle. “Nate, is that you?” Jacob slung his M-16 and ran from across the road to them, grabbing Henry in a bear hug. “Henry, Tal. What’re you guys doing here?”
“We can ask you the same,” Nate said.
“Where’s the rest?” Jacob said, searching behind the three like the twenty-five were just around the corner. “Will? Is he here?” For an instant, his joy diminished and his face sobered. “Bruce isn’t with you, is he?”
“Will is gone,” Nate said, “Dead. There’s only a few of us left, about eight.”
“Oh no.” Jacob scratched his head, taking in the news. “Come with me.”
He took off toward the substation, working his way around the barbed wire perimeter fence. The other side butted up to forest, ending in tall trees and weeds.
Brandon, the redhead, jumped up from his sitting position in the weeds. “What in the...” he said, pointing his 9mm at them.
“It’s the group,” Jacob said.
“Brand, how are you?” Nate said.
“Colt’s hurt. Shot,” Brand said, standing and pointing to a nearby tree.
Previously unnoticed, Colton lay leaning up against the tree, sleeping.
Henry ran over to him. “Shot?”
“Yeah. We were ambushed by Bruce and Toby and someone else.”
“Bruce? You know Toby?” Nate said.
“Colt does. All three of them run in the same circles in Haven. They know many of the same people. We met up with them a couple days ago in the woods. They acted friendly, but Bruce has had an ax to grind with Colt forever. They ambushed us.” Brand wiped his face. “We shot back and took cover here in town. They didn’t follow. We’ve been waiting for Colt to get better before moving on.”
“We can take him back to camp,” Nate said. “We can care for him there. Bruce isn’t with us.”
Brand nodded and started gathering his items. Jacob had already packed his. Nate kneeled next to Colton.
His exposed face, the part not hidden under a full beard and mustache, was covered in dirt. His long, greasy hair was clumped to his head, dripping with sweat, and his arms and legs trembled.
“Wait, what’s that?” Tala said.
Nate jumped up. “What’s what?”
The others stop moving, statues in a forest.
“Listen. Don’t you hear it?”
“No,” Henry said.
“A buzzing. Sounds like it’s coming from there.” She pointed to the substation.
Henry dropped the bag of canned goods he held. “There’s power?”
“I don’t know, I don’t hear anything either,” Nate said. “But let’s find out.”
He left Colton and went to the ten-foot chain link fence surrounding the utility substation. “Henry, can you take Colton and them back to camp?”
“Yeah, sure, Nate. What about you and Tala?”
“We’re going to check this out. If there’s power, that could change things. Maybe give us an advantage against Bruce. First, let’s see if we can make a way in here.” He shook the fence.
After the group studied the fence for a couple minutes, they figured the easiest way to get in was probably the simplest.
With Colton’s multi-tool, Henry, Jacob, and Nate untied links from the posts, allowing the chain to sag and fall away, providing access to the substation.
Nate and Tala cleared the fence as the others carried Colton away, across Miriamville, toward the camp.
White gravel and crushed, jagged rocks covered the ground inside the fence line. Large transformers, with dangerous-looking electrical wires, intertwined with steel framework and structures. Off to one side, a tiny building stood.
“Be careful,” Nate said. “If anything is live and we touch it we’ll be finished.”
They examined the station, leaving wide gaps between themselves and cable and metal.
Large flanged pipes came from the ground, looped, and burrowed back into the rock. White arrows painted on each pipe pointed the direction of flow. Nate figured it was probably some type of gas pipeline.
 
; He moved to near the center of the substation, scanned the area, then made his way to the utility building.
“I think I hear the buzzing now,” he said. He went to the front of the cinder-block building. On the door “Utility Room” was written in black stencil letters. He tried the knob but the door was locked. “Do you think it’s in here?”
Tala dropped to her knees and placed her ear to the gravel. “No. I think it’s coming from the ground.”
Nate walked back to her and dragged his foot along the ground, pushing the gravel into a small pile. “What’s this?” He dropped next to Tala and scooped more gravel aside. “A door.” The two finished removing chalky rocks from on top.
The door was square, about three feet both ways. One side had hinges, the other a lock inset into a metal frame.
“You have good ears,” Nate said, inspecting the lock. “It looks rusted. Find something for leverage, a bar or pole.”
They searched the substation but found nothing, ending up at the door to the utility room. Although the door was metal, the wooden frame and jamb gave after several kicks and shoulder slams.
Nate paused once the wood cracked and the door swung inward, to make sure the deafening strikes that echoed from their entry didn’t alert anyone they didn’t want alerted.
Inside the utility room, various specialty tools, spare parts, and electrical cables were haphazardly stacked in piles to the ceiling. They also found a sledgehammer and a long breaker bar.
Nate dragged the heavy hammer to the door in the ground.
With each strike, a resounding boom of metal shot through his head, reminding him of the beating he’d received.
What would happen to the rest, the ones that weren’t allowed to leave Parks’ farm? They were prisoners.
After Bruce’s rant, why would they keep Charles, Martin, and others he clearly didn’t like? What would he want with panthers, as he called them?
He didn’t want to think too hard about why Bruce and Parks wanted them to stay. He needed to focus on getting the door open.