Survive the Day Boxset: EMP Survival in a Powerless World

by William Stone

  A small river flowed through the town, and part of the route into town ran alongside the river, following its course. It was as Jack turned onto that stretch of road that he saw it: a big truck, the entire body on fire, as well as the bed, which was filled with burning logs, which came barreling out of a driveway just to their right. He punched the gas, and everyone screamed as they caught sight of the huge flaming projectile hurtling toward them. However, Jack’s reaction was too late and the truck was moving too fast, and there was no way to avoid it. It smashed with a tremendous impact into the side of the Humvee. The Humvee plunged and rolled down the steep riverbank, completely out of control, before crashing with a mighty splash into the black, icy water of the river.

  26

  The river wasn’t particularly large, but it certainly was deep enough to submerge the entire Humvee and completely incapacitate it. Either way, the four of them wouldn’t be traveling any farther in the SUV because it was belly-up and they were upside down inside it, scrambling to get out of their seatbelts.

  Jack knew that the burning truck had been no accident. They were under attack, and their lives were at risk. They were safe from gunfire now, but how long would they stay safe? Water was already starting to fill the interior of the vehicle. The leak was slow, but in maybe half an hour or twenty minutes, the vehicle's interior would certainly be filled. His heart was pounding, and his mind was racing from the shock of what had just happened, but he managed to force any thoughts of panic out of his head and focus on keeping cool under the immense stress and pressure of this terrible situation.

  “Is everyone okay?” he yelled, unclipping his seatbelt and easing himself onto the roof, where he shifted into a crouched position.

  “My neck,” Kate groaned. “I think I pulled a muscle … but I’m mostly okay.” She had hit her head during the roll and was feeling slightly disoriented.

  “I’m a little bruised, but I’m okay,” Susan said from the back. The impact and the rolling had thrown around her.

  “What’s happening?” Nick groaned, looking around in bleary-eyed confusion. He had hit his head against the window when the truck had smashed into them, and the impact had dazed him.

  “We have to get out of here,” Jack said calmly, although there was an unmistakable tone of urgency in his voice. “And we don’t have very long to do it. Make sure the waterproof backpacks are sealed up tight, put ‘em on, sling your rifles over your shoulders, and get your handguns out. We’re going to have to fight, and it’s not going to be easy.”

  “Why not the rifles, Dad?” Susan asked, feeling a fresh gush of alarm and raw fear, which only intensified the terror and shock she was already fighting through after the horror of the burning truck attack and the subsequent crash into the river.

  “We’re going to have to swim out of here, and it’s not a good idea to fire AR-15s right after they’ve been submerged,” Jack answered, crawling along the roof to get to the baggage. “We’ll be okay with the pistols, though, since they’re all Glocks.”

  “Who are these people?” Kate gasped, now that her temporary trance of disorientation had worn off. “They’re trying to kill us. Oh my God, they’re trying to kill us!”

  “Where am I, what’s going on?” Nick groaned, still dazed and only half-conscious. This was partly due to the impact of his head on the window, but also due to the fever and delirium caused by the raging infection in his ear.

  Jack realized that Nick, unfortunately, would be next to useless in the coming fight, but even so, he knew he couldn’t abandon the young man. Survival, he had always thought, was no reason to ditch one’s humanity, compassion, and honor. “Don’t worry, Nick,” he said, reaching over and giving Nick’s shoulder a quick, reassuring squeeze. “We’ll get you out of this.”

  “Okay, okay, just … tell me what to do … and I’ll do it,” Nick responded, smiling weakly. In his eyes, there was still a look of disorientation and confusion, though.

  Despite the reassuring words he had just spoken, Jack didn’t know how they would get out of this situation, which was looking increasingly dire with every passing second. Once they got out of the incapacitated Humvee and got through the icy, black water—a terrifying and life-threatening challenge in itself—they would likely be greeted by a hail of bullets. He had no idea how many men were out there; there’d been two on the snowmobile he’d seen earlier, but they had probably just been scouts, and he suspected there were many more here in town.

  Then, an idea popped into his head. They may be outnumbered, but there was a way that he could strike a mighty blow against their attackers, as long as Kate had remembered to bring one vital thing with her. “Kate, honey,” he asked, his voice urgent, “did you bring those grenades I made?”

  “Yeah, we brought them,” Kate said nervously. “They’re in the red backpack.”

  “Thank God,” he said. “Susan, grab those two blue backpacks, get the important stuff out of them, and stuff one of the life vests into each of them. Kate, get a roll of fishing line and a roll of duct tape out, hurry!”

  “Dad, what are you doing?” Susan cried. “We have to get out of here, we’re underwater and the car’s filling up! We can’t mess around with backpacks and stuff now!”

  “Just do it, Susan!” Jack yelled. “Trust me!”

  Kate trusted her husband’s judgment and was already grabbing the items he’d told her to get. Once she had them, she tossed them to Jack, who had retrieved his homemade hand grenades. On the verge of descending into a full-blown panic attack, Susan managed to fight through the terror and crushing anxiety and do what her father said. Once she’d emptied the first of the blue backpacks and stuffed a life vest into it, she handed it to Jack. Jack set about taping the hand grenade inside the bag and tied the fishing line around the pin, bracing it against a ballpoint pen he taped inside with the duct tape. He had based his grenades on military designs and had engineered them so that they functioned in much the same way; a few seconds would pass when the pin was pulled, then the grenade would explode.

  Kate saw what Jack was doing, and a moment of realization came over her. She understood exactly what he was doing and why he was doing it. He was going to float the bags up to the surface. When their attackers—who were, presumably, after loot—fished the floating backpacks out of the river, Jack would yank on the fishing line, pulling the pins and thereby detonating the grenades. That would hopefully take out a few attackers and possibly scare them off long enough that they might have a chance to make a break for it and get to a defensive position so that they wouldn’t literally be sitting ducks in the water when they surfaced.

  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 wan
t 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 motherfuckers! 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.