Soon enough, Jack had prepared both “bomb bags.” He knew that releasing them would be a huge risk since he would have to open one of the windows to do it. Once that happened, water would come gushing in at a tremendous rate; they would only have a minute or two before the entire interior of the car filled up with water. As perilous a task as it would be, he knew it had to be done. They were outnumbered, and their attackers were waiting for them to emerge from the water. This was their only chance to strike a powerful blow against them.
“Is everyone finished packing those waterproof bags?” Jack asked. “Have you got everything important?”
Susan and Kate said that they had, and they were ready. Nick mumbled something in agreement, but he still looked confused and disoriented. Jack knew that he would have to help Nick swim out, or the young man would likely drown. Susan had packed a backpack for Nick, and she helped him get it over his shoulders, and also slung the shotgun over his shoulders, too.
Everyone linked a long length of rope through quick-release clamps hooked to their belts so that they would remain connected and nobody would get disoriented and drown in the dark, icy water. When they surfaced, they could quickly disconnect themselves from the rope by unclipping the clamps.
Jack thought about making a little speech before he opened the window, to tell his family how much he loved them … but he didn’t want it to seem like they may not get out of this alive. He wanted to keep the fires burning brightly in their hearts and fill them with courage so that they could survive what they would have to get through next. He didn’t want to make it seem like this was the end, or even that this might be the end. He wasn’t about to go down without putting up one hell of a fight, and he wanted his family to share this spirit.
“I love you so much, Susie, and I love you, too, with all my heart, Kate,” he said. “And Nick, I’ve got your back. Let’s do this.” With that, Jack started to open the window nearest him.
Frigid water immediately started gushing in, and Jack had to use all his strength to fight against the incoming torrent and force the first of the bomb bags through the half-open window into the water. As soon as he got it through, though, it shot up to the surface, buoyed by the life vest inside it. He quickly got the next one out, and it also shot up through the dark water to the surface.
Then everyone in the vehicle waited with bated breath. Kate was holding one fishing line, and Susan the other. Both lines were still slack and would only tighten when someone grabbed the bags, or if that didn’t happen, when the river's sluggish current dragged them far enough from the vehicle to make the lines taut. Jack prayed that it would be the former and that the grenades would not go to waste.
An agonizing minute passed by, and the car was filling up quickly. Still, the lines were slack. Hope was washing away as quickly as the water level rose. Then, finally, one of the lines went taut, and seconds after it, the other did, too.
“Yank the lines!” Jack said, his heart pounding and a curious mixture of dread and exhilaration racing through his veins at the thought of what they would have to do next.
Susan and Kate yanked the lines, pulling the pins on the hidden grenades. Jack, meanwhile, opened the window fully, doubling the torrential flow of water. “All right, everyone!” he said. “Take a deep breath, and let’s go!”
He filled his lungs with air, dropped down into the water, crawled through the window, fighting the incredible force of surging water with all his might, and pushed out into the black river beyond.
27
The cold hit Jack like a thousand sledgehammers simultaneously. He had no idea how he would get himself and his family warm and dry after this, but that, as serious a matter as it was, was the least of his concerns. Getting out of the water without being shot was his primary task now.
Above him, a shock wave tore through the water as the first of the grenades exploded, and this was quickly followed by a second shock wave as the next one detonated. Jack hoped that these explosions had at least taken out a few of their attackers, and hopefully scared them off for long enough for him and his family to get out of the river and into a position of cover.
Nick exited the Humvee after Jack, struggling against the powerful current. Susan and Kate helped Nick through the window, and they each sucked in as much air as they could, taking their final breaths from the last small gap of air that remained before the entire interior of the vehicle was submerged.
After Nick had pushed out into the dark, freezing water, Kate followed, then Susan. By the time Susan got out, Jack had almost surfaced, and the closer he got to breaking the surface, the more violently his heart pounded in his chest. The cold felt as if it was both crushing and paralyzing him simultaneously, as well as sapping every ounce of strength from his muscles, but he knew he had to push on, and the terrifying thrill of what he would see when his head broke the surface.
He couldn’t see Nick—or much of anything in the murky water—but before he surfaced, he felt the rope on his belt go tight, and knew that meant that Nick was in trouble. Jack still had plenty of air in his lungs, so he wasn’t worried about that. The cold, however, was beyond debilitating, and Jack knew the longer he stayed in the water, the more dangerous it would be with regard to hypothermia. He swam down, following the rope, and soon was able to make out a vaguely solid form that had to be Nick. He reached down, grabbed Nick’s jacket, and started hauling him up toward the surface. He was almost there, about to break through … and then he did.
The sight that greeted his eyes was one of chaos and nightmarish surreality. A huge slick of gasoline was burning across half the river, from the rolling truck that had rammed them, which was half-submerged. The flames writhing and roaring on the water made it look like the river itself had caught fire.
Two corpses were floating in the water a few yards from where Jack had surfaced, and another dead man lay on the bank with his arms blown off, while another was crawling out of the shallows, coughing up blood and screaming. These were the men who had been taken out by the grenades. Others, startled from the massive explosions, were fleeing in panic, but Jack knew that it wouldn’t be long before their fright turned to rage, and they would turn around and renew their attack.
Time was of the essence and every second that was wasted could end up being a matter of life or death. He gripped the rope and hauled it up, pulling with all his might to get Nick and the others out of the water. Nick’s head broke the surface a second later, and for the first time in a while, he looked completely lucid. The intense cold seemed to have shocked the confusion out of him.
Susan and Kate surfaced a second after that. Everyone was gasping, much more from the glacial chill of the water than any lack of breath from the short swim. When they took in the hellish sight of the burning water and the mangled bodies, their eyes almost looked as if they would pop out of their sockets, but Jack didn’t allow them any time to gawk. “Come on, move it, out of the river, this way!” he yelled, unclipping the rope from his belt and swimming for the nearest bank, where there were thick clumps of reeds in which they could take cover.
The others followed him, swimming as fast as they could in the freezing water. Each of them shot frequent glances at the enemy men as they swam, all scared that they would turn and start shooting, but they all made it to the cover of the reeds before any of the fleeing men dared to slow down, stop running, and turn around.
Jack, Nick, Susan, and Kate stood thigh-deep in the murky water around the reeds, keeping their heads low. Each of them had their pistols at the ready, and their eyes were all wide, their teeth chattering, and their breaths coming in great heaving gasps that misted in clouds in the air. From the direction of the fire and the submerged Humvee, they heard men yelling.
“They got out! They musta’ got out!” one man shouted.
“Sons a’ bitches done killed Ted, Eric, Jackson, an’ Willy with them bombs!” another howled with rage.
“Find ‘em!” a deep, raspy voice roared. “Find the motherf
uckers! They’re around here somewhere. They can’t ‘a got far! Bring ‘em to me, alive!”
“Keep your heads down,” Jack whispered softly. “And if you see anyone getting close enough that they might see us, shoot first and ask questions later. Our lives might depend on it.” He also knew that their lives depended on getting out of the water, out of their freezing, wet clothes, and warming up, but none of that would matter if they ended up getting captured or shot by these men.
He scanned his surroundings, trying to work out the most effective escape route. He and Kate knew the town well and knew exactly where they were, whereas these men—who had to be outsiders who had come from somewhere else—surely didn’t. Jack planned on using this knowledge to his advantage.
There were buildings close to the water’s edge, but to get to them would mean getting out of the reeds and scrambling a couple of yards up a steep, snow-covered bank. Not only would they risk being shot at by making themselves visible against the snow, but they might also end up slipping and sliding down the bank back into the river. Thus further expanding the length of time they were completely exposed to enemy fire.
There was another way, Jack realized, potentially a safer way. Upstream a large stormwater drain emptied into the river. He knew that if they could get into the storm drain, they could make their way through the storm drain network—the storm drains were almost large enough for an adult to stand up in—and get out of them in the middle of town and find shelter from there. However, doing this would mean swimming underwater in the terribly cold river again. Still, short of getting into a firefight, it was the only way to get out of this place without being caught or killed. Jack knew that they had to go for it.
The enemy men were coming closer and were yelling angrily to each other as they hunted Jack and the others down like bloodhounds. Jack hastily pointed out the stormwater drain upstream and hurriedly explained the plan. The swim would be a few dozen yards against the current of the river, and it would be difficult for them to hold their breath for that long, especially with the intense cold, but they knew that they had to try. Short of open battle with mere flimsy reeds for cover, there was no other option.
They all took deep breaths again, filling their lungs, and then slipped back into the water, swimming just below the surface, trying to swim in a perfectly straight line toward the stormwater drain. The cold was crushing and almost paralyzing, but the fact that a number of vicious killers were hunting them was enough to boost fresh energy and strength into their freezing muscles and numb limbs.
Jack, leading the way, pushed as hard as he could, keeping his body just below the surface of the dark water and praying that everyone else was doing the same. He could barely see where he was going, and the painful cold made his sense of disorientation even worse. But finally, after what felt like an eternity, he felt the muddy river bottom beneath him and realized he had reached the far bank, and hopefully, the stormwater drain.
It was risky, but he knew he had to look up. He popped his head out of the water, grateful to suck fresh air into his burning lungs, and only barely managed to suppress a cry of joy. He had done it and had swum in a perfectly straight line and made it to the stormwater drain. He climbed into it, crouching in the entrance and waiting impatiently to help the others inside. His heart was drumming madly. The enemy men were searching the reeds across the river where they had just been, and if any of them looked up now, they would spot Jack and his family.
Nick popped his head out of the water, and Jack lunged forward, grabbing him and pulling him into the drain. Then he did the same for Kate, and then Susan when she finally surfaced, gasping for breath.
Jack was about to celebrate as he pulled Susan into the drain … but before he could crack a smile, shouts of vicious triumph rang out from across the river.
The enemy had seen them.
28
“Hey! Stop right there!” one of the enemy men yelled, whipping his rifle up to his shoulder and taking aim at Susan and Jack, who were in the entrance of the storm drain.
Sixty or seventy yards and the river separated the two groups, and Jack knew that unless the man was an absolute crack shot, there was no way he’d hit them with a mere split-second to aim. He grabbed Susan and yanked her inside the cement pipe. A second later, a shot rang out, and a puff of dust and flying shards of concrete spurted from the inside wall of the drain system, but for now, Jack and his family were safe. They wouldn’t be for very long, though; Jack understood this well.
“Follow me, hurry!” he said. It seemed that the bulk of the enemy force was on the opposite side of the river, but he knew that some of them had to be on this side because it would have taken at least two or three men to push the burning truck down the slope.
He and his childhood friends had explored these drains many decades ago, and his memory of the layout of the drains was fuzzy, but he did recall that one of them passed the town hall, which would be as good a place as any to seek shelter from the enemy and get warm and dry before escaping this town, which had fallen into hostile hands.
“Do you even know where we’re going, Dad?” Susan asked, her teeth chattering.
“I’m so cold,” Nick muttered, shivering madly, his skin and lips looking alarmingly blue, with a faraway gaze entering his eyes again. “So cold, so very, very cold…”
“We have to get warm and dry fast,” Kate said.
“I know, but before we can do anything about that, we have to get away from these maniacs,” Jack said. “And yes, Susie, I know where I’m going.”
Just a few yards into the underground pipes, everything was pitch black. Outside, across the river, the enemy men were yelling with fury, but Jack was sure none of them would want to plunge into the icy river and swim across it to get to where Jack and his family had disappeared. They would more likely run back and cross the bridge half a mile downstream and then start pulling up manhole covers to get into the drain network. He wanted to be out of the drains and into the town hall by then.
“I can’t even see my hand in front of my face,” Susan murmured. “Are you sure you know where you’re going, Dad?”
“Keep going straight,” he said. “The sound of our footsteps will tell us when we get to an intersection.”
“Can’t we just get a lighter out of one of the waterproof bags?” Kate asked.
“If we use a lighter, those crazy murderers will see where we are,” Jack said. “We can’t risk it. Just keep going straight, I’ve been in these drains before … it was a very long time ago, but I don’t think there are going to be any unexpected holes dropping down anywhere. Even if there were, we’d hear it from the sound of running water. Just keep quiet, walk at a steady pace, and keep your ears open.”
After twenty or thirty yards, the sound of the splashing echoes of their footsteps abruptly changed. The sounds became a lot more open rather than tight and constricted, and Jack knew they had come to an intersection. He took a few steps to the left, and sure enough, there was no longer any wall there. “This way, everyone,” he said. “Stay close behind me.”
He went left, not because he remembered the way, but rather because there was a slight upward slope that direction, whereas the path to the right sloped down. The town hall was located on top of the town's highest point; that was how Jack knew which way to go.
He pushed on through the inky darkness, sopping wet and freezing cold, listening carefully not only to the sound of every footfall but also listening out for any sign that their pursuers had entered the drains. There was no sign of them yet, but he knew that they would soon enter the drains.
After another fifty yards of trudging through the darkness, Jack got to another intersection. “This way, to the right,” he said. He went right because that way was slightly uphill, and he knew that they had to be getting closer. Shivering, and with their teeth chattering, the other three silently followed him.
Just then, though, they heard a sound that made their already chilled blood freeze in their
veins: downstream, they heard the splashing of men jumping into the water. The sounds traveled in ominous echoes up through the network of drains and informed the four of them that their enemies were now close behind them.
“Come here, lil’ piggies!” one of the men roared, his throaty voice echoing through the drains.
“Y’all can run, but ya can’t hide, ya sons a’ bitches!” another yelled. “We’re coming for y’all, and we’re gon’ get ya!”
“Shh, move quickly and quietly, and don’t speak unless it’s an emergency,” Jack whispered.
A gunshot boomed through the darkness, echoing through the network of drains, and the loud bang made all four of them jump with fright. They managed to restrain themselves from crying out, though.
“Shh,” Jack whispered. “They’re shooting blindly into the dark, but they’re not gonna hit us. They’re far behind us, and they’ll probably get lost in here anyway.”
Just after he said this, though, another shot rang out, its booming echo ripping in sonic waves through the drains. The blast was followed by a bout of maniacal laughter and one of the men making mocking pig squealing sounds.
“Keep moving and keep quiet,” Jack whispered in as good of a calm and reassuring tone as he could manage, pushing on forward. “They’re trying to scare us into giving away our position. As long as we don’t give ourselves away, they won’t find us, and unless they’ve got bullets that can turn around corners in midair, they won’t hit us either.”
“Mark’s gon’ have himself some real fun with the girl!” one of the men shouted before firing off another shot. “The rest a’ us are gon’ pass the milf around! We gon’ have a real good time when we find y’all!”
Alarmingly, their footsteps and voices sounded as if they were growing closer. At the speed they were moving, they had to be carrying a light of some sort. Jack couldn’t move any faster, though, and couldn’t risk getting a lighter out. He could sense the others’ fear growing and swelling but didn’t know what he could do or say at this point to reassure them. All he could do was to continue to push forward.
EMP Survival In A Powerless World | Book 22 | The Coldest Night Page 14