Survive the Day Boxset: EMP Survival in a Powerless World

by William Stone

  Lazenby looked at him. “So… I overheard that conversation you were having with the captain about the family.”

  Hatfield studied the young guy’s face, wondering if the two of them agreed on it. “Tough call, isn’t it?”

  “You’re right. I get where the captain’s coming from. I mean, we are limited in our recourses here but, there’s got to be something we can do.”

  “There is.”

  The guard squinted his eyes. “Like what?”

  “Stick with me tomorrow morning. I’ll give you the details then.”

  Lazenby’s puzzled look remained.

  “You are with me on this, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, completely. I mean… long as it doesn’t get me into any hot water or anything.”

  “No hot water. You won’t do anything that isn’t ordered by me. I’m the one risking hot water, understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That’s not to say there’s no risk at all with my plan. Just not a risk of you getting into trouble with Captain Payne. Are you ready for that?”

  “I am, sir. It’s not like the risk is something that can be avoided these days anyway. It’s just a part of the scenery.”

  Hatfield scanned the landscape and nodded.

  At breakfast, the kitchen was hopping with so many bodies moving in and out. And all that commotion meant nobody would notice half a canister of rice missing as well as a few eggs and a little wheat.

  He knew Cecil’s point about limited resources was well-intentioned but misguided. Yes, food was always in danger of running low, but it wasn’t truly scarce. The plants and chickens were still around and still adding to the supply. Also, as unpleasant as it was to think about, the death of the recently killed homesteaders made food supplies less limited than they ordinarily would be.

  After stuffing a few things into his backpack and tossing it into the bedroom, he stopped Cecil in the hallway and pulled him aside. “Captain, about Jade and her family.”

  “Yes?” he answered, arms crossed, face stern.

  “Would it be possible to escort the woman home—just to make sure there’s no danger waiting for her there?”

  “Long as you don’t do it alone. You recall what happened the last time someone made that mistake.”

  “I understand. And yes, Lazenby is joining us, and we plan on taking every precaution.”

  “I hope so,” Cecil said. “We’ve lost some good men. We do not need to lose any more.”

  Hatfield nodded, then ducked into the room, scooped up his backpack, and waited at the door for Jade’s family. He saw Lazenby step out of the kitchen, sharing a subtle nod with him, then, after strapping on his own full backpack, joining him at the door.

  “Ready to do this?” Hatfield asked him.

  “Sure am.”

  “Looks like you’re forgetting a couple of things.”

  Lazenby looked at his empty hands. “Sorry, be right back.” He moved into the artillery room and emerged with two rifles.

  Hatfield lifted his, held it in his left hand for a second, still feeling a little uneasy with his hand. But perfection wasn’t possible or needed. “Lovely. Now, all we need is the family we’ll be escorting home and we’re ready.”

  Within seconds, Jade and her kids were there, ushered to the door by Cecil. The leader said to them, “We wish you all good luck.”

  “Thank you so much for the help in our time of need,” the woman said.

  “I believe you have Mr. Hatfield to thank for that,” he answered.

  The group of them headed out of the compound, alert eyes on the landscape as they opened the front gate and stepped into the tall grass.

  Noticing a tightening of her face, Hatfield said, “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure the place is secure before we take off.”

  She faced him and sobbed, “Thank you so much,” her voice too weak to fully push the words through.

  Lazenby said, “The captain has a good heart, ma’am. He really does. It’s just that… well, he’s not the most flexible individual in the world, is all. Far be it for me to speak ill of him, but it wouldn’t hurt him to adapt to circumstances a little. He’s old school military, everything strictly by the—”

  Spotting something in the distance, Hatfield lifted both arms to stop them all in place. “Everybody down,” he said, voice hushed. The five of them lay in the grass, squinting into the horizon, trying to discern the images several yards away.

  “Looks like a group headed to the bunker,” Lazenby said.

  Jade gasped. “No, no, no,” she whimpered.

  “Not the best timing in the world,” he added.

  “No,” Hatfield said. “It’s perfect timing. It lets us know they're in there. All we have to do is wait them out.”

  “Maybe we can ambush them while there in there. There are only about four or five of them. With the element of surprise with us, we can pick them off.”

  “But that place is impenetrable, right, Jade?”

  “It is when the door is properly locked,” she answered. “But it won’t close if you don’t have the proper code.”

  Hatfield turned to Lazenby.

  The younger man asked, “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

  He didn’t reply right away. The last time a homesteader went to the bunker, the result was a nightmare, not to mention the risk to Jade and her kids. He took a deep breath, weighed the options. “Let’s get a closer look, make up our minds when we get there.”

  The five of them crept through the weeds, bodies low, rifles trained on the distant silhouettes that strolled toward the bunker—not that they could have much accuracy from this angle. As they got closer, Hatfield could feel and hear the pounding of his heart. Gazing at the kids, he reminded himself how important it was to things right.

  The bunker’s door was open when the gang got there. They strutted inside, guns out. “Anybody home?” Nathan called, provoking laughter. A quick check revealed the place was all theirs. “Okay, guys. We got a couple of those flamethrowers, but where were those big guns you were talking about?”

  Zan led everybody down a dark hallway until they reached a compartment under the floor. After wiping the dust from the left side, a door handle became visible. They tugged at it, and after some effort, the door snapped free and swung open with a long creak.

  Nathan whistled long and low when he saw what was inside. Flame throwers, assault rifles and—underneath everything, dug well into the dirt—the gigantic turret of what looked to the leader like a long, narrow cannon. “I do believe that is our missile launcher.”

  “Actually, it’s a howitzer,” a bearded gangbanger said.

  His boss shot him a glare.

  “I’m ex-military,” he said, his voice softer, more humble, probably sensing Nathan didn’t like being corrected. “I’m not sure if it can operate after the attack, but I guess we’ll find out.”

  “So the plan is we get out of here and come back with the rest of our stuff. Let’s go!”

  They howled their way out of the bunker, the feeling of victory already buzzing through their veins.

  Hatfield wasn’t prepared to risk anything. He counted the gangbangers as they left, making sure there couldn’t be anyone remaining. Any surprises would be bad surprises. After waiting for them to get far enough from the bunker, he gestured for everyone to follow him inside the open door.

  Once inside, they weren’t done being cautious. He gestured for the family to remain tucked in a protective corner while he and Lazenby gave the place a sweep. Happy to see they were alone, he shut and locked the door, then pulled the smuggled food from his backpack as his fellow homesteader did the same.

  “Oh, bless your hearts, you gentlemen are so generous.”

  “I believe you have the captain to thank, ma’am,” Luckily, he doesn’t know it.

  “We’ll be back with more, provided we can sneak away.”

  “You know, we can repay if you like,” she said.

  “No
offense, ma’am, but your money’s no good here. In fact, nobody’s is.”

  “No, no, I don’t mean with money. I mean medicine.” She pointed to a cabinet over his head.

  He opened up and took a look. It was stocked with bottles with names he couldn’t pronounce or grasp the purpose of. “Maybe later. If we need something, we can come back and trade, if that’s okay with you.”

  “It’s more than okay. I insist. Jake always felt one of the most important things to teach the kids is self-reliance. Begging for help just won’t do. That was really important to him.” Her voice cracked a little on the last few words.

  Hatfield squatted to the family. “Now, are you completely sure this place is impregnable?”

  “Trust me,” Jade answered, “when the door is properly sealed shut, there’s no way in. We’ve had a number of people who’ve tried.”

  “Okay. Just make sure you don’t open that door for anybody—except us. And we’ll have a special knock.” He demonstrated on the floor. “Can you remember that?”

  “I got it.”

  “How about you, Lazenby?” he called down the hallway. “Is that something you can remember?” He got no answer. “Lazenby?”

  “Holy Toledo Ohio!” Lazenby gasped. “Check out what this place is insured by, Mr. Hatfield.”

  Once there, he saw the door wide open and the giant hole underneath it. A turret poked through a pile of various military artillery. “Nice.”

  “Yes, that’s the missile I was talking about.”

  “Actually, ma’am,” Lazenby said, “that would be a howitzer. Although, you get too close to that little rascal, and I don’t suppose the difference matters much.”

  “There was more,” she added.

  “Excuse me?”

  “There were more guns, especially more of those weird-looking, thick things.”

  Hatfield lifted up a flame thrower. “One of these, you mean?”

  Jade nodded, eyes wide as if taking a close look at it for the first time.

  “Not great news,” Lazenby said. “The last thing we want is those dudes packing fire.”

  “I’d say that makes stopping these guys a pretty big priority. And that means making sure they don’t get their hands on anything else.” He turned to Jade. “I know we’ve been through this, but let me repeat it: Do not open that door for anybody unless it’s us. Keep it locked and shut at all times.”

  Lazenby asked, “You think maybe we should do something with these—just in case… something happens?”

  Rapidly approaching laughter from outside got the attention of everyone inside. “We might have a better way to handle this.”

  “What do you mean?” the younger man asked.

  Hatfield lifted a hand, crept to the door, and stole a peek from it. The gang was a good distance away and taking their time to reach the target. “Jade, does this place have a panic room?”

  “Kind of,” she said, her eyes getting restless and scared. “There’s a closet we can hide in. Um… do we need to hide? Please say we don’t need to hide!”

  He gave her shoulder a gentle stroke, keeping his voice low and unhurried. “No, no, settle down. If Lazenby and I do our part as we should, there will be no need to do anything but stay away. I know you and your children have been through hell, but if all goes well, this is the last time you’ll need to be strong for your children. I promise.”

  She took the shaky hands of her kids and raced toward the closet as Hatfield took glances through a sliver of the front door. Lazenby took a few peeks himself, then asked, “You’re not looking to take these guys on, are you?”

  “It’s not as crazy as it sounds.”

  “I hope not!”

  “Here’s how this works. These guys come back to the bunker, see the door open just the way they left and walk inside, not a care in the world. They are not expecting us. We are expecting them. If they have more than one functioning brain cell between them, they will know how stupid it would be to continue to charge inside blindly.”

  “And if not? If they really are the idiots we think they are, and they keep charging in?”

  “Then they’ll get wiped out one by one. That good enough for you?”

  Lazenby’s breath grew loud and out of control. “It’s a tricky plan.”

  “Let’s look at it this way: If they come back and the door is closed, they may think somebody will soon be on their way out—just like before. And they’ll do just like before: wait for him to come and gun him down.”

  Lazenby shook his head slowly, mouth wide.

  “So really our options are—face them now with the element of surprise or later without it.”

  “I guess so. Let’s do this.”

  “Great!” Hatfield opened the front door, making sure it was positioned similar to the way it was before. “You’re going to be here.” He grabbed Lazenby by the shoulders and moved into position behind a protective pile of rubble. “I’ll be next to the door firing away. The second things get too hot, I’ll slam the door shut, got it?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Don’t need you to suppose; I need certainty.”

  “Okay, yes, I’m certain. Whatever you need.”

  “All right, let’s go!”

  The two of themselves sat there in position, waiting for the gang to pull up. Once they got an open shot at several of them at the door, they’d start firing. But they needed to be careful. If Lazenby was off, he could hit Hatfield. Anything else could seriously endanger things as well. It was a risky plan, with no plan B.

  The gang approached the door, drawing closer. They were now ten feet away, then five.

  Not quite there…

  One of the gangbangers gazed into the doorway, his face frozen into an odd look. Not the one Hatfield was looking for. “What a minute…” the gangbanger called. “What the hell’s that backpack doing there—”

  A bad sign, but it was too late to turn back. So Hatfield yelled, “Go! Now!”

  The two of them fired away, getting a few of them to drop in the doorway. A third managed to squeeze through and into the hallway, getting riddled with bullets as he staggered into the kitchen.

  Hatfield turned his rifle around and clubbed him with the butt at the back of his head, sending him clattering to the ground. With no more open shots of any of them at the doorway, it was time to shut the door, but he could now see several of them scampering away. He couldn’t resist taking one more series of shots, so he lifted a hand, gestured for Lazenby to stop firing, and stepped out into the doorway, easing out slightly. He fired a few times, connecting two or three times—but he got something unexpected: someone was waiting for him, hiding at the side of the door, shoving a knife toward his head. He jerked back, catching a glancing blow at his jaw and grabbing the guy’s arm and tugging him back into the doorway.

  The two of them grappled one on one, the gangbanger shoving Hatfield’s face to the ground. From the corner of his eye, he could see Lazenby aiming his rifle, probably unable to get a clean shot that would only hit the gangbanger.

  They grappled more, with Hatfield losing the grip on his rifle, then the handgun on his waist. He reached down with all his strength and grabbed the back of his opponent’s head, yanking it hard against the concrete floor until his forehead met hardwood. His body then dropped, motionless.

  With the door slammed shut, he jumped to his feet and raced down a dark hallway, with Lazenby following behind. “Jade?”

  He heard nothing, then called again. And again. Finally, a whimper leaked from behind a door, her words smothered by tears. He pulled the door open and saw her clutching her kids, all three of them shaking, eyes uneasy. “Yes. I’m here. We made it, didn’t we?”

  “Yes, you did.” From behind, Lazenby passed her three jars of food. “The three of you held up very well. From now on, you should be fine as long as you keep that door shut.”

  Jade wiped her eyes dry and cleared her throat. “Don’t worry. This place will be sealed tight as l
ong as there is danger out there.”

  “We’ll be back when we can. I promise.”

  She nodded, then pulled herself out of the closet and led the two men to her front door. “You two have no idea how helpful you’ve been to us. We can’t thank you enough.”

  “You guys, take care.” He looked to the kids. “Don’t let your mother work too hard.”

  The kids managed grins. “Yes, sir. We won’t,” they both said.

  Hatfield and Lazenby headed away, rifles strapped and heads on swivels, checking for any dangers on the horizon.

  26

  Hours after running from the gunshots from the bunker, the baleful stare on Nathan’s face remained. Everybody else was in a playful mood. In the time following the bunker incident, they’d knocked over a convenience store and didn’t even have to fire a single shot. Simply walking in, brandishing flame throwers was enough to get the owner to put down his shotgun and surrender.

  They now had plenty of food, good food, stuff they all enjoyed. No more need to humiliate themselves at the compound on a daily basis—at least for a while. But still, Nathan was unsatisfied. Something felt wrong, incomplete.

  From behind, he heard a voice. “Check it out, boss!” Zan held up a portable propane stove. “We can cook now! All we had to do was pull those flame throwers out. Amazing, huh?”

  His boss said nothing. “Sons of bitches!” he spat. “Shooting at us and we run like a bunch of rats.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know what I’m talking about! You were there! They started shooting at us, and what do we do? We took off like rats deserting a sinking ship!”

  “Look, that’s old news now! We don’t even have to think about those guys anymore.”

  Still, Nathan glowered.

  Zan ignored him and set the stove up. “You know how to work this?” he asked the leader.

  His boss sighed, turned to look for the three homesteaders, then waved them over. He snapped his fingers and pointed to the stove. “Dinner, for everybody! Get to it!”