The Off Grid Survivor Box Set: Complete The Off Grid Survivor Series Books 1-4

by Connor Mccoy

  “With the diseases from the dead bodies and no sanitation, you’d be better off out in the countryside.” Conrad climbed to his feet. He then turned the bike’s front wheel. “It may be years before a city like this is reclaimed.”

  “Reclaimed? From who?” Jack spoke up as he suddenly marched through a side opening. The rest of his men stormed past and fanned out in the center of the room. “What’s wrong with Redmond, old man? The king is here.”

  “Damn!” Tom raised his weapon, but he had a few rifles drawn on him. He stopped short of firing. Jacob, Ira, and Laird had rifles drawn, while one man wielded a knife and another a long baton.

  “Sorry, but this party isn’t going anywhere,” Jack said, “I’m here to collect some lost friends.”

  “I saw you at the warehouse,” Conrad said. “You’re one of Maggiano’s boys.”

  “I’m one of his colleagues,” Jack said with a sneer. “Allies. An equal. And now I’m the guy in charge.” Then he glanced at Tom. “You look familiar. I can’t place you, but I feel like I bumped heads with you in the past.”

  “Tom Richards,” Tom replied, “I helped your stores in town upgrade their network connections, back when that stuff mattered. Took a while for you to pay the invoice.”

  “Well, what can I say? I had my priorities. So, let’s talk about the women. You stole them from me. I want them back. If we agree, then…” Jack spread his arms. “No problems. We all live another day.”

  “Think again, friend,” Conrad said, “These ladies aren’t going back to your house of horrors. I suggest you find something a little more worthwhile to do with your time. I’m sure there are some barns out there that could use a pair of strong hands. I know some horses would appreciate it.”

  Jack chortled. “Who’s this, Tom, your old man? Looks like a refugee from a bad Clint Eastwood film.”

  “Actually, he’s a…a friend,” Tom said. The last words seemed to surprise Tom as he spoke them.

  “He’s my…” Sarah stepped forward. “We were once married.” She seemed both proud and ashamed at once, though Conrad didn’t know exactly why. Perhaps she felt guilty over divorcing him?

  Jack’s face contorted in disgust. “Good God! You and that old fossil?” He then laughed. “Funny, you didn’t look that old when I peeled off your outfit for Maggiano.”

  Tom twitched. “What?” he asked, calmly, but with an undercurrent of anger. Conrad bristled as well.

  “Yeah, you don’t know how we do things in Maggiano’s place. He likes to check out the ladies to make sure they’ll satisfy his clients when they come calling. Especially now, men just need a, a release.” His eyes narrowed as he gazed at Sarah. “Of course, I do my best to help out. I’m an expert at fashioning clothes that lift all the right assets. You should have seen the pants I got for her. Lifted her ass in all the right places…”

  Tom’s skin turned red. He lunged forward, but the men behind Jack shoved their rifles forward. Tom stopped in his tracks.

  “Easy, tough guy.” Jack grinned. “Your blood will be painting your lady friend if you’re not careful.”

  “You son of a bitch. What did you do to Sarah?” Tom asked, quivering.

  “Cool it, Tom. Don’t worry,” Sarah said, “just pull back.”

  Tom did step back, just a little. Jack chuckled. “Just as I thought. Not much of a tough guy, huh?”

  “You’ve got a small army behind you,” Tom said. “Why don’t you lose them and we’ll see who’s a tough guy?”

  “Sorry, but I’m the guy in charge now,” Jack said.

  “You’re the guy in charge?” Conrad asked. “I’m sure Maggiano might not appreciate hearing that.”

  “Maggiano is dead!” Jack suddenly spun around and marched up to Conrad. “He’s crushed beneath a bunch of rubble. I’m in control of his whole operation now!”

  The bald man frowned. “Wait, Maggiano is dead?”

  Jack turned to him. “What’s the matter, you hard of hearing? Yes, he’s dead. When we get back to the warehouse, you can find the flies over his fat-ass corpse in the front office!”

  The bald man turned to his companion. The pair nodded, then they lowered their guns and walked toward the door. A third henchman followed.

  Jack’s mouth dropped open. “Hey. Hey! What the hell is this?”

  A fourth man shouldered his gun and followed the procession to the door. Jack ran up to the bald man and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Where the hell are you going? Come back here!”

  The man simply turned and looked at him. “We do what Maggiano wants. We don’t give a shit about you. If Maggiano’s dead, then we’re out of here.”

  “See ya, Jack,” said the third man.

  “But…” Jack trembled. “I control the food! I control the guns! Without me you don’t get shit!”

  The fourth man then pointed the nozzle of his rifle in Jack’s face. “You mean this gun?”

  Jack’s eyes widened. All he could say was an “Uh…”

  The man then withdrew his weapon and walked out the door with the others. Jack slowly turned around, finding himself suddenly very outnumbered. Only two men remained with him, and they weren’t even holding guns. One clutched a baton, the other a large knife.

  “Looks like someone just got his ass fired as king of the city,” Conrad said.

  Jack trembled. He was trying to put on a good face, but wasn’t succeeding very well. On the other hand, Tom knew the advantage was tilting in his favor, and he walked right up to Jack.

  “Hey,” Jack backed up so awkwardly he nearly fell against a table. “Don’t listen to those assholes. I have connections. I know people. This city is mine. It’s me or nothing.”

  Tom raised his arm. “No, Jack, you are nothing.”

  Then he slammed Jack hard in the face with his fist, sending him spiraling down onto the hard floor.

  Coughing, Jack crawled to his knees. But Tom wasn’t finished with him, grabbing Jack by his shirt and hoisting him to his feet. Blood trickled down Jack’s nose.

  “You owe Sarah and everyone here an apology,” Tom said with a low hiss.

  “Go to hell,” Jack said, “They’re all mine.”

  Jack then struck back, hitting Tom in the face. But Tom wasn’t felled by the blow, and was able to punch back.

  Meanwhile, the man with the baton raised his weapon, but Conrad stopped him cold with a rifle butt to the head. The man dropped hard onto the floor. That just left the man with the knife, but Conrad couldn’t reach him. Fortunately, Sarah was ready with a folding chair, connecting it to the man’s legs. The assailant went down, his knife flying out of his hands.

  The man with the baton reached for his weapon, but Conrad raised his gun at his head. “Do yourself a favor. Get lost. And don’t come around here again.”

  The man quickly nodded and ran out the door. Conrad raised his head just in time to witness Tom deliver a nasty blow to Jack’s face. Conrad swore he saw a tooth fly out of Jack’s mouth. Jack stumbled and fell to the floor. Tom grabbed a chair and raised it high.

  “Tom!” Sarah rushed over to him and seized his arm. “Tom, hold up.”

  Jack was a bleeding, wheezing mess on the floor. He wasn’t making any effort to stand up. Tom set the chair back down.

  Conrad turned to Shannon. “Get some of your boys and haul him outside. Let him fend for himself.”

  Sarah took the gray shirt from Conrad. “Okay, I’m sorry, can you explain this to me again?”

  Conrad smiled. “It’s called the gray man theory. When society goes into utter chaos, one way to avoid the calamity is to go unnoticed. You don’t stand out. No one even looks at you.” Then he pulled out a long green shemagh scarf. “And, by choosing these dark colors, moving slowly, and sticking to the building walls, we’ll be more likely to go unnoticed.”

  “So, we’re not waiting until morning?” Tom asked.

  “We’re too close to the open road. We need to get home.” Conrad’s eyes met Sarah’s. “Liam’s waitin
g for you, Sarah.”

  Sarah clutched her scarf near her chest. She blinked back tears.

  “What about the bikes?” Tom pointed to the two bicycles Shannon had agreed to give them. “They’ll stick out.”

  Conrad reached down and picked up a dull green blanket. He then set it over the bikes. “What bikes?” he asked innocently.

  Tom yawned. “Great trick, Conrad.” He looked around the laundromat. Much of it was still now. The women were lying on floor or in the back, sound asleep, perhaps enjoying their first real rest in weeks. The only activity came from Shannon’s men, who stood guard near the door or windows.

  Conrad approached Tom and Sarah. “Hey. How about you two catch some sleep? I think you’ve all earned it.”

  “You, too, Conrad,” Sarah said, “You’re not staying up all night.”

  Conrad rubbed his back. Sarah’s comments seemed to give his body permission to feel tired. Perhaps, knowing that he had freed Sarah, that he was finally on his way home, he would sleep well tonight.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Conrad, his fingers on the handle of his new bike, took one last look at Tao’s Laundromat. Todd Shannon and a few of the women Conrad and Tom had liberated waved to him as well as Tom and Sarah beside him. Conrad raised his hand and gave a salute. “Godspeed to you all,” he said under his breath.

  Sarah and Tom each held the bicycle they received from Shannon. It still was nighttime, but the dawn would break in a couple of hours. After the fight with Jack and his men, the three of them enjoyed a few hours sleep. Shannon informed them that he had people to keep watch in case Jack or any of his henchmen returned, but it seemed Jack’s men were content to leave them alone and go off by themselves, now that they knew Maggiano was dead. Actually, the news had encouraged Shannon to work faster. Once news got around the city that Maggiano’s grip on Redmond was gone, it only would encourage the seedier elements to run even wilder.

  So, Conrad, Tom and Sarah made their way out of the laundromat in their new clothing. The noises and gunshots in the distance diminished as they walked the bikes through the streets, and even though the sun had yet to rise, Redmond had fallen quiet again.

  “They’re probably worn out,” Conrad mused. “I guess you can have too much hedonism for one night.”

  After about an hour of a slow, careful trek down a few streets, they approached the outskirts of Redmond. A short hike would take them toward the state road that ran toward Conrad’s homestead.

  Sarah stopped. She turned and looked at her city. Even though it was quiet, whiffs of smoke still rose in the distance, and a few orange glows still burned. Her heart sank. There was no telling when those fires would burn out, if they would burn out before destroying more and more of the city.

  “I know it’s been a mess. I know it’s all ruined,” Sarah said, “but it’s hard to think I may never come back here.”

  Tom took Sarah’s arm and held it. “Yeah,” he added.

  Conrad glanced at Tom comforting Sarah. The strangest thing about this was that Conrad’s own life hadn’t changed a lot. Even though his home had been deprived of working electronics, he still had conditioned himself to live off the land. Tom and Sarah, however, would need to adjust everything in their everyday routines.

  But they’re going to survive, Conrad thought. That’s what’s important.

  A soft wind blew through Conrad’s gray hair. The weather was pleasant, but they couldn’t be sure how long it would stay that way. Walking his bicycle, Conrad passed the couple to walk in front of them. “We’d better get moving. Home…Liam…Carla, they’re waiting for us.”

  Tom got on his bike. Sarah mounted it, then held on tightly behind him. “All right Conrad. Now you get to be the leader. All the way.”

  Conrad took them forward, out of Redmond, and finally onto the state road that would lead them home.

  Liam’s face twitched. Sunlight trickled through the window blinds. He turned to his side, brushing against the back of the warm body next to him. A thin sheet lay over them. Without air conditioning, having warm blankets on top of them during sleep was an invitation for a sweating fest at night.

  He wiped his forehead. His skin felt damp. Well, they did have reason to sweat last night, though not because of any hot air.

  Better enjoy it while it lasts, because you won’t have many nights like that when you’re waking up for three a.m. feedings, he thought.

  He rolled onto his back. The comfort of this bed made him dread the thought of getting up. Not only did he have a comfortable mattress under his back, but he wasn’t expecting to be ambushed or attacked by marauders or psychopaths.

  I wish Dad could say the same thing. Liam rubbed his eyes. Damn. Dad still was out there. Two nights had passed since Liam and Carla had made it back home. Liam wondered if Dad finally had rescued Mom. If so, it still would be a while before they showed up here.

  I wonder if I can still camp out near the road? Liam thought. Maybe I could be on the lookout for them. He then glanced at the head of brown hair on the nearby pillow. No, he wasn’t sure he could even trek a few miles away from her. Camilla’s body language unnerved him. That woman was anticipating something out there.

  Carla’s eyes then opened a little. Liam’s worries defused for the moment. He’d rather talk to this lovely lady.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Morning,” she said. “What time is it?”

  “I have no idea,” Liam replied. His watch had stopped working. His dad did have some working clocks, but none were in this room.

  “Then it’s whatever time we want, and I say it’s four in the morning, and we should go back to sleep.” Carla then grabbed the sheet and pulled it over her head.

  Liam looked at the bright light through the window and chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t think we can get away with that. It’s probably closer to ten a.m. by now.”

  “I can’t hear you.” Carla spoke sing-songy.

  Liam grabbed the sheet and yanked it off her. He did it so suddenly that she forgot to hang onto it, which allowed Liam to expose quite a bit of her.

  Liam leaned over Carla’s chest. “Well, I guess those will be mine for a while longer until Liam Junior arrives.”

  Carla laughed. “Who says we’re naming the baby after you? And it could be a girl.” Then she flicked Liam’s nose.

  “Good point. Guess we won’t know for months,” Liam said.

  Carla inhaled deeply. “Hey, you smell something?”

  Liam sniffed the air. “Something burning?” He turned to their closed bedroom door. “No, that smells like coffee.”

  “Someone’s trying to get us up. No fair.” Carla sat up. “We’re being bribed with coffee.”

  “Must be Camilla.” Liam slid off the bed and stood up. He reached for a robe hanging off the back of the door. “I can only imagine what she’s been up to. I heard some noise last night. She was doing a bit of walking around.”

  Carla’s head sank back into the pillow. “You go ahead. I’m going to be a little while.” She coughed. “Great. I hope I’m not going to start puking.”

  Derrick lowered his binoculars. “There she is.”

  He backed up a few steps toward his men. The whole group was waiting just off the side of the state road. Derrick just had brought the party to a halt so he could take a look. He felt they were closing in on Conrad’s homestead, and wanted to stop so he could sight the place from a safe distance.

  Derrick pulled off his binoculars. Approaching Lance, he offered his sighting instrument to the younger man. “Take a look for yourself,” Derrick said.

  Lance obeyed. He stepped up to where Derrick had been and looked through the glasses. The homestead was a one-story structure but fairly wide. It likely could host all of Derrick’s men with room to spare. Lance also was struck by how much better it looked compared to Derrick’s home. While the distance was pretty far, Lance could see that the siding and bricks appeared to be in good shape. The gutters were firmly attached and weren�
�t broken in any place Lance could see. Likewise, the roof was well-shingled. It didn’t seem that any of them were missing.

  Then Lance tilted his view to the crops beyond. Now he really was impressed. The rows of corn, cabbage, and squash were bigger than Derrick’s. Conrad also had orchards on his property. The apples looked incredibly tasty to Lance.

  He lowered the binoculars from his eyes. “It’s great,” he said.

  Derrick then took the binoculars from him—a bit harshly, Lance thought. “Yeah, well, it’s soon going to be ours. You can be impressed then.”

  Lance frowned. Derrick seemed pissed all of a sudden. Did Lance say something wrong?

  Kendall and Teller started hiking toward the road, but Derrick quickly spoke up. “Hey! Hold up there. We’re not headed for the road.” He pointed to the fields between them and the Drake property. “We’re going that way. These tall grasses will give us some cover. Conrad won’t even see us coming.”

  As Derrick started off through the fields, Lance dropped back so he could walk alongside George. “Hey,” Lance asked, quietly, “did Mister Wellinger seem a little irritated to you?”

  George shrugged. “Didn’t think so. Why?”

  “He doesn’t seem to like people talking about Conrad Drake’s ranch. Like how good it looks,” Lance replied.

  “Got me,” George said. “Mister Wellinger and Drake seem to have a history. I don’t know much about it. I saw someone ask Mister Wellinger about something Conrad Drake did for him. His face got red. He basically told him to screw off, but more bluntly, you know.” George chuckled. “Used words you’d never say around your mama.”

  Lance scratched his shoulder. The promise of food and shelter had made this seem like a dream come true. But now an uneasy feeling was settling in his stomach. What was really on Derrick’s mind? Was this a little more personal than Derrick had let on?