25 Bombs Fell: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Series, 25BF Season 1

by A. K. Meek

  Nate pushed the thought aside as he wedged the six-foot breaker bar under the dented, warped lock that once held the door secure. Then the two leaned over the steel bar, bouncing as they dropped dead weight.

  The breaker bar bent as it forced the door to give, finally snapping the rusted lock with a loud snap.

  Another few minutes and they muscled the door open enough so they could slip inside.

  For a moment, Nate thought of when they were still in Shelter 1710. At that time he thought he would go crazy if he spent another night underground. Now, here he was fighting to get back underground.

  Beneath the door, a round concrete tunnel, about three feet across, dropped for fifteen feet until it terminated. Old metal rungs mounted in the wall provided a way to reach the bottom.

  Hesitating for just a moment, Nate started down the ladder.

  “I’m not sure what we can see down there,” Tala said, on her stomach, peering into the well.

  Nate stopped only a couple rungs down. “Hey, is it me or is there light down here?” He handed the 9mm Brandon had left him to her. “Hold onto this, just in case.”

  He continued climbing down.

  “Tal, there is a glow.” His voice echoed up. “Something’s running on power down here.”

  He dropped the last couple of feet to the bottom of the well.

  One of the walls expanded out into a shallow niche, unseen from above.

  A long metal box, about two feet high, was centered in the middle of the niche. That was where the glow and the buzz emanated from.

  Nate had to stoop to get close to the box. A simple thin metal flap covered its top. He lifted it and the niche brightened with light. The metal box was, in fact, a control panel.

  Eight sets of red, two-digit LEDs dominated the control panel. To the right of the numbers, four red buttons were labeled with: Active, Inactive, Remote, and Local. The remote and inactive buttons were lit in a pale yellow. A keypad was centered under the line of LEDs, next to a larger button labeled Enter.

  Light from the red LEDs exposed a map on the underside of the lid, similar in design to Army geographical maps. Miriamville lay at the center.

  Nate’s mind clicked.

  Miriamville was the name of the town on Captain Jordan’s map, the one he’d circled and marked with warnings. The same town that he had drawn lines away from to the north, south, east, and west.

  But what about this small, insignificant point on a map scared him, causing so much concern?

  The flimsy control panel light showed a large portion of the map covered by orange diagonal lines. The area stretched for miles around Miriamville and the surrounding area, even touching the edges of the Florida Panhandle. The map legend indicated that the diagonal lines marked off the “field of effect.”

  “There’s power down here, but I don’t see where it’s coming from.” Nate felt along the edges of the box but found no power cords, no outlets. Concrete ran up the sides, forming a kind of secure holder. The control panel appeared to have been constructed at the same time as the rest of the substation. It was all meant to be one.

  “Must be more under the floor,” Nate said. “I don’t think we can get to it.”

  “What is this?” Tala had made it down the ladder and pushed him aside to get a better look.

  “I don’t know. It reminds me of the Cold War movies. Launch codes, stuff like that.”

  “You don’t think there’s nukes around here, do you?”

  Nate pulled his folded composition book from his cargo pocket and found the pencil within the pages.

  “What are you doing?” Tala looked over his shoulder.

  “I’m not sure what this is, but I intend to find out.” He wrote down the numbers, eighty-four, sixty-three, forty-one, and ninety-seven, illuminated on the control panel. The rest of the numbers were zero.

  Tala stepped away from the niche and stood upright, rubbing the back of her neck. “Nate, I think we need to leave, get back to the rest. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

  Nate closed the control panel cover and tucked away his notebook. “I know what you mean. Let’s go.”

  They left the hidden tunnel and dropped the bent metal door over the hole the best they could, but it wouldn’t close completely.

  Under the full moon, they left the substation and walked alongside the road that cut Miriamville in half, headed back to the camp.

  Nate stumbled on an object hidden on the roadway shoulder in the grass and shadows, barely catching himself before hitting the ground. He caught his balance.

  Back in the fresh air, away from the hole in the ground, Nate felt more relaxed. With each step in the cool night, he almost had the impression that he was on a casual nighttime stroll. And for the first time in ages he thought he could forget all that had happened and all that he’d seen.

  Almost.

  “What’s gonna happen to us?” Tala said after minutes of walking in silence.

  “What do you mean, ‘cause I almost fell?”

  Tala giggled. “No, us. The twenty-five, the world. Everyone has turned mean. We’re killing each other. I miss my family.”

  He couldn’t see her face but imagined tears streaming down it. He thought he heard her sniff.

  “Mom and Dad would never act like the rest,” she continued. “I’m scared.”

  “I’m scared too,” Nate said. “One thing I’ve learned through this is that we all have those tendencies to kill. Each one of us. That’s a part of being human. The hate, the jealousy, the anger. But I’ve learned something even more important.”

  He continued through the grass, carefully searching for other objects, his 9mm held to his side.

  After a couple minutes Tala laughed. “Well, are you going to tell me your great mystery, or leave me in suspense?”

  Nate smiled, although she probably couldn’t see it. “Okay, since you asked. I’ve learned that even though we all have this desire to do these things, we can choose not to do them.

  “We can act like Bruce and go through this land, shooting up everything that moves, but what does that do for us? Then we’re no better than animals that kill in an instant. I’m not an animal.”

  No movement, no life came from Miriamville as they walked.

  It, like so many other places they had passed through, was dead. Pillaged, left to die by those who had consumed all things as they passed from one place to another. Consuming without contributing.

  Another few minutes of walking, and Tala stretched her arms high over her head and yawned. “So when do you think we’ll come back to figure out what that panel is all about?”

  “Don’t know. Sometime after I get back.”

  “Get back? From where?”

  Nate knew he was going back to the farm. He had never questioned that, from the moment he woke from the beating, from when he first heard of the others being held hostage—kidnapped—he knew he had to go back. The mysterious control panel would have to wait.

  “To get the others, to rescue them from Bruce and the Herd.”

  04.07

  THE HOUSE OF SMOKE AND SHADOW

  Ten of the twenty-five camped in a grove of trees on the outskirts of Miriamville.

  Through tears and with her daughter, Desiree, clinging to her side, Yvonne tended to Colton’s gunshot wound in the stomach. He tossed and moaned and sweated, his body trying to break the fever that ravaged it.

  Brandon and Jacob told the rest the excruciating tale of Bruce and Toby surprising them in the forest.

  As Colton had walked to the two, Bruce started arguing, cursing Colton for when he used to date Amber. Then, before anyone could do anything, he shot Colton. Once Bruce and Toby saw Brandon raise his rifle, they fled back into the woods.

  An hour after returning from Miriamville and eating half a can of beans, Nate found Henry.

  Henry didn’t ask where they were going. Nate knew he felt the same.

  They both had to return.

  “Here,” Nate sai
d, handing him the 9mm. “This is all we’ll have. We’re traveling light.”

  They made sure their canteens were full, and left the camp as the night wore on.

  Henry led Nate into the forest and after a few minutes of getting his bearings, started in the direction of the farm.

  A mile or two later he took a break, leaning against a tree. He gulped from his canteen, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “You know what we’re getting into, right?”

  In the warm, still air of night, Nate decided to take a drink too. “I sure hope so. That’s why I wanted you to come. Can’t think of anyone else I’d want than you with me.”

  Henry put away his water. “Well, where you’re leading me, I’m not sure if that’s a compliment. Either way, thanks. You’re a good man.”

  Nate put away his water. “If I was, I wouldn’t want to kill Bruce for what he’s done. Better yet, I wouldn’t want to leave everyone there and run back to Bartel, and crawl back in the hole we came from. I’m not good. I have to continue doing what is good and right, but that doesn’t make me good.

  “But I’ve been nagged with a feeling. I have to believe there’s something greater than us at work in this world. If not, then anything we do is inconsequential; it doesn’t matter.

  “There has to be a standard, a moral line established beyond us. A universal truth. A line we don’t cross. If there isn’t, then whether I shoot you or not doesn’t matter, even to you. If you live or die, what does it matter? Do you feel that way? Does anyone feel that way? Why are we struggling so hard to stay alive if this all doesn’t matter?

  Henry smiled and shook his head. “Pretty contemplative of you.”

  Nate laughed. “Henry, I’m surprised you know the word ‘contemplative.’ I guess we’re both amazing each other tonight.”

  Henry pushed himself from the tree and hiked up the belt that sagged under his belly. “Guess we better get going, unless you want to expound some more.”

  “Let’s go, jerk.”

  The moon hung large and bright, a massive light that exposed the things that moved in shadow and night. They pushed through trees.

  “A great night for a full moon,” Nate said, as he followed Henry along the meandering path.

  While Nate had been unconscious, Henry and the rest carried him along, several miles away from the Herd’s dilapidated farmhouse. The distance they traveled was amazing.

  Now, Henry snaked through the forest, back to that wretched house and those wretched people. Nate’s chest trembled with each breath as he remembered Parks and the rest.

  A fire flickered in the distance. They drew near the farmhouse.

  At the edge of a neglected patch of farm, the scrubbed-clean field allowed them to see the house from a safe distance. A large bonfire burned between the house and the barn, like before, only larger.

  The two used the woods, much as they had learned to do over the past several weeks, to circle the farm so they could approach from behind the house, from where the fire cast a long shadow.

  Once he was draped in shadow, Nate hunched as he scrambled for the house, turned, and sprinted until he stopped behind an old tractor.

  It looked like it was kept more for display—an agricultural relic—than for functionality. He dropped to the dirt behind a large tire.

  Behind him Henry’s heavy feet came stomping. He came running, as best he could, and his labored breathing quickened. He dropped next to Nate, hitting the ground hard, gasping, holding his plump left side.

  “You’re gonna kill me making me run,” he said.

  Nate patted his shoulder. “Sorry. I didn’t say it would be easy.”

  He stretched his neck to peer around the tire.

  Bathed in the moon, the farmhouse looked mysterious, like an odd entity from another planet.

  Scant, wispy clouds obscured the moon enough to hide the detail that they could see moments ago. Now, rough outlines dominated. A light breeze blew into Nate’s face, carrying the smell of burning pine and rubber. He crinkled his nose.

  “I hate to tell you this,” Nate said, “but we have about thirty-five more yards to run.” He extended his hand and helped Henry off the ground.

  They moved together in the shade of the house and stopped at one corner, where the shadows deepened.

  Laughing and the clanking of bottles came from the other side of the farmhouse. Bodies moved in front of the firelight, the long silhouettes playing against the house and the gray clouds.

  Nate dropped to his stomach and slid along the rough, dry soil, next to the foundation. He scooted from the edge once he cleared the shadow, and moved away from the house enough to see the party.

  The fire was larger than it had first appeared. Seven feet high and about twenty feet across, it burned with anger.

  His face and arms grew warm from the heat, despite the distance that separated him from the fire.

  Or maybe it was the flush that rose from within.

  His hands trembled as he fought the urge to jump to his feet and flee back to the woods.

  Two of the Herd danced around the fire with abandon, flailing arms and legs as they hollered, slamming into each other. They were shirtless and each held liquor bottles. Sweat glistened off their bodies.

  Meredith stood next to an old, bent, metal clothesline pole. Her arms were suspended above her head and her body stooped slack as if nothing else held her upright. Her head was bowed down with her thick, blond hair covering her face.

  “Now’s the time,” Toby yelled from inside the house.

  Nate’s heart jumped.

  The two dancing fools froze in place.

  Porch boards groaned and a screen door creaked.

  Rustling came from the front of the house, sounds of a scuffle.

  A naked body, wearing only boots, landed hard on the bare ground at the front of the house. Nate inched forward on his elbows to get a better view.

  “Tonight, the supermoon rises high,” Parks said. “Marduk has told me it’s time for the hunt.”

  Nate froze when he heard Parks’ voice.

  Sam and Stephen clapped and yelled.

  He knew he should stay in place, but Nate’s desire to see what went on at the front of the house overrode his good sense. He inched forward.

  Toby and Lane stepped off the porch and grabbed the arms of the man who’d been flung from it—grabbed Bruce’s arms.

  They each gripped him, supporting him; his naked body had something like large patches stuck to it. As they forced him to turn to Parks, who still stood on the porch, the animal pelts covering him could then be easily seen.

  “I am Nimrod,” Parks said. “Lord of the Hunt. On this holy night, we are to celebrate my blessed union with the bride Marduk promised me, Diana of the Hunt. I will give her a prize like no other.”

  He finally stepped off the porch into view and the Herd cheered.

  He wore hunting camouflage. On his head sat a type of hard hat with antlers protruding from the top. He grasped his bow and lifted it high. “A game,” he said. “A game. Quite a night for a game. What better present for my queen than a king?” He swept his arm and bow toward Meredith, who now writhed on the clothesline.

  Toby grabbed Bruce’s hair and jerked his head back.

  “Okay, guys,” Bruce said, his voice quivering. “This isn’t funny. I get it. I don’t want to be a part of this. Just let me go. You can lead the group.”

  Parks laughed. “Oh no, you don’t understand. You’re the first because you’re the leader. Marduk demands many sacrifices in order to defeat the machine gods. You will all be sacrifices. We need all of you to defeat the beasts and their orange angels that roll across the land like a fog.”

  Bruce sobbed and the Herd continued with laughs and cheers. Sam threw his bottle into the fire and a small burst of embers flowered where it landed.

  “Now,” Parks said, “let our game loose and allow him into the woods so that he has a fair chance. Marduk doesn’t take unfair spoils.”

&nbs
p; Lane cut the bonds that held Bruce’s hands together and shoved him toward the fire.

  He stumbled to the ground, the sweat on his naked skin glistening in the light. Toby pointed his rifle close to Bruce and fired several rounds into the air.

  Meredith jumped at the noise, and Bruce scrambled to his feet and plodded off away from the farm, barn, and fire, away to the woods.

  Stephen slung his bottle at Bruce as he ran away. It clanked harmlessly in the dirt yards away. The others continued laughing.

  “Give him a few minutes,” Parks said. He reached over his head and pulled an arrow from a quiver strapped to his back. “Marduk would frown on our not giving him a fighting chance. Sam, Steve, you watch over the rest in the barn.”

  Sam slung his arms, the way a child would before throwing a tantrum. “Come on,” he said. “I haven’t gone on a hunt for a long time.”

  Lane hocked a loogie into the fire, then wiped his head with his shirt. “What about the day before?”

  “Day before? That was a rabbit, for food. I meant for sport.”

  “How many do we have in the barn?” Parks said, placing the arrow back in the quiver.

  “Eleven, I think,” Sam said.

  “There’s gonna be plenty of hunting over the next few days,” Parks said.

  “Those?” Stephen pointed to the barn with the rifle he picked up from the porch. “There’s not much there, old panthers and women.”

  “Next time,” Park said. “Sam, Steve, stay here. Let’s go, boys. Marduk says it’s time for me to bring the game back for my bride. This shouldn’t be too difficult. Bruce isn’t that smart.”

  Bow in hand, Parks, Toby, and Lane jogged off after Bruce, armament and hunting gear jangling. They made no attempt at stealth, as one would hunting a deer or fowl. They were going to a slaughter.

  Nate retreated to the back of the house where Henry pressed himself against a wall, the 9mm held up close to his head like an actor in a movie. “What’s going on?” he said.

  “I’m not sure, but I think Bruce is being sacrificed.”

  “Sacrificed, like heart cut out on an altar? Disgusting.”

  “No. They dressed him like a deer. They’re hunting him. Meredith is outside the barn, tied to a pole. I think only two are left watching the others. I want to see what’s in the house, make sure no one else is in there.”