The E.M.P. Chronicles (Book 1): 458 Miles & 24 Days

by McTatey, Zayden (Oz)

  She walked back to Angie and with a voice of confidence said, “Angie, I do not want to leave the hospital short staffed, but I have to get home. I need to make sure my family is safe. When and if my phone works again, I’ll make it a priority to call you.”

  “You’ll probably lose your job,” Angie retorted.

  “I understand. You have to do what you have to do but my family is my main priority,” Nicki stated as she turned around and began the walk to her car.

  Nicki thought through her plan and knew she would have to walk home. It took her about forty-five minutes by car and that was only because of traffic. Walking, without traffic, would take around seven to nine hours depending on her pace. She felt confident that the walk would be straightforward and that she probably would not encounter any danger but she was not going to take a chance.

  Nicki inserted her key into the car door lock and opened the car door. She reached in and placed her Bug Out Bag on the driver’s seat, opened the bag, and took out the set of clothes Oz had placed in the bag. She was wearing her nurse uniform and felt she would stick out, or worse yet, be a target and that by changing her clothes she would blend in the locals. She would be a grey woman.

  “After all, it’s Kentucky. Everyone wears camouflage clothes,” she said as she smiled.

  Next, she took out the hat and removed the hair ties Oz had taped to the hat. She put her hair in a bun and put the hat on. She then took out the belt, Keltec PMR-30, and four magazines for the gun. She placed the belt through the loops on her pants and ran it through the holster.

  “Time to go hot,” she whispered to herself as she removed the pocket knife attached to the Bug Out Bag.

  She grabbed the PMR-30 and slowly began cutting the plastic bag that encased the gun. Oz had placed the gun in a vacuum sealed bag to protect and keep it dry.

  “He’s a smart one,” Nicki said as she removed the gun.

  Nicki ensured the safety was on and chamber-checked the PMR-30. Once cleared, she placed a magazine in the magazine well and racked the slide. She double checked that the safety was on and pulled the slide back ensuring a round was properly seated. It was. She removed the magazine and checked to make sure it was loaded in addition to looking for any mechanical issues. She was satisfied and slapped the magazine back in the magazine well and holstered the gun. She placed her shirt over the holster which provided some concealment for the gun.

  “The shoes,” she said disappointed. As she looked down, she realized the only pair of shoes she had was the shoes that matched her nursing outfit. “Not the best but they’ll have to work,” she sighed as she placed her hands through the straps of the Bug Out Bag. Once across her back she secured the straps across her chest and waist and clipped them together. She would walk home.

  Her route would take her down Rivergate Boulevard to 2 Mile Pike. From there she would head to Highway 174 – Long Hollow Pike in Goodlettsville, TN, to Highway 41- Dickerson Pike, to Forks Road, to 31 West (Blue Star) – Louisville Highway. Once in the town of White House, Nicki had two routes she could take depending on the situation. She could continue on 31 West to Kentucky or take Portland Road which would ultimately end up at the same place. She was relieved to know that she had options. With a spare flashlight in her pocket and one in her hand, she headed into the darkness.

  Nicki never thought she would have to ever walk home from work in the dark. Furthermore, she never thought she would have to use the Bug Out Bag Oz prepared for her.

  “I will kiss that man as soon as I see him. I just need him home,” she thought.

  Nicki began her walk down Rivergate Boulevard and noticed how many people were out. They were just walking almost as if they were looking for something but she had no idea what. It was about 2:30 a.m. and as she walked it was hard to not notice the cars that just seemed to have stopped. The streets resembled the scenes in the video games Randall played. In the video games, there were always streets filled with disabled vehicles and fires burning in 55-gallon barrels. Minus the burning 55-gallon barrels, this was that scene.

  As she passed the Rivergate Mall Nicki heard what sounded like a ‘thud.’ When she turned in the direction of the noise she saw five or six people with sledgehammers and crowbars trying to get into the main doors of the mall.

  One of the men in the group saw Nicki and yelled, “Hey, come help us. Free stuff inside!”

  Shocked at what she just heard, she simply raised her hand in a waving motion and now more than ever would focus on getting home.

  Thirty minutes later Nicki approached Highway 174. Though it was dark, she could make out stranded vehicles in both directions. Cars everywhere. As she looked around, she could detect motion and assumed it was stranded drivers and passengers. She quickly touched her hip to make sure she still had her PMR-30.

  “Yep, it’s there,” she whispered as she checked her pocket for the spare magazines.

  She would walk using the emergency lanes. This allowed her to stay as far off the highway as she could always ensuring to stay in the shadows if possible. Nicki never let her right hand leave the holstered PMR-30. It was the only comfort she had.

  The walk on Highway 174 was long but easy. While walking she noticed that there seemed to be more activity as the night went on. Instead of sleeping, albeit, in their cars, people were milling around.

  “It must be the stress,” she thought.

  Nicki saw the sign for Highway 41 and she felt relief knowing she was closer to home. She was glad to be going on Highway 41 because the highway was surrounded by forest on both sides. It could provide cover if she needed but she also realized it could be used to ambush her.

  The comfort she felt immediately went away when she heard a voice say, “You’re going to put out rather you like it or not.”

  Nicki could hear the crying and whines of a woman. Without thinking, Nicki lifted her shirt and positioned the PMR-30 in her hand. She brought the gun to the low ready position as the adrenaline began to flow. Her heart was racing, and her senses were on high alert.

  “Calm, calm, calm,” she repeated to herself.

  Though she could hear the woman struggling she couldn’t see where the crying was coming from. Nicki had never been in this position in her life. Though she had extensive handgun training she had never pulled her gun with the intent to defend her or someone else, let alone to kill someone. It was for practice. She had two choices. She could keep walking and ignore the situation or help the woman. Nicki knew that Oz would tell her to keep walking. That her safety was the priority. But Nicki was a nurse. She was trained to help others in need. If she didn’t help that woman she would regret it for the rest of her life, but if she died, Oz would never forgive her.

  As Nicki stopped to listen she could tell that the screams and crying of the woman were coming from below the underpass. Nicki slowly walked down the highway ramp and with her back against the concrete wall, walked towards the screams and crying woman. It was a dark night and with camouflage clothes, it would be hard for her to be discovered. She needed to pick up her pace. What if the man, or men, killed the woman? Nicki would not allow that to happen.

  “Who’s next?” said the man who had the voice Nicki originally heard.

  “My turn. I’m gonna hurt her,” another voice said.

  “There’s more than one,” Nicki thought.

  Her mind ran rampant. What if there was a gang waiting to rape that woman. There was no way Nicki would be able to take them all out. And hell, if they were armed, Nicki knew she would be killed. Before Nicki could finish her thought a man smoking a cigarette approached to within eight feet of her. He was looking around but didn’t notice her. She immediately noticed he was wearing an orange jumpsuit with the words ‘Kentucky Department of Corrections.’

  Fear hit Nicki when she saw that he was carrying a holstered handgun on his right side. The black belt and handgun were out of plac
e around the jumpsuit. Things had just changed. Without so much as moving, Nicki reviewed her options yet again. Take the man hostage and hope the others let the girl go, shoot this man and catch the others off guard, or do nothing and simply don’t move. No more thinking she thought. It was time to act.

  Nicki could tell the woman was in pain by the groans she was making while the man raping her was enjoying himself.

  Nicki focused on the man in front of her and as best as she could, said, “Put your hands up or I’ll shoot.”

  The man was caught completely off guard and instinctively reached for his gun.

  Nicki, in a more forceful voice, yelled, “Please don’t do that!” He did not stop.

  Nicki lifted the PMR-30 and with a smooth trigger pull fired two rounds center mass at the man standing by her. He had no idea what hit him as he instantly fell to the ground. Nicki turned to the underpass and with her left hand, pressed the button to the flashlight. The area was illuminated when he saw a woman pinned down on the hood of a car and a man in an orange jumpsuit hovering over her. The man turned and started running toward Nicki. Nicki was in a daze. She had just killed a man making it hard to focus on the man running toward her. Before she knew it, the man was standing in front of her and the last thing she saw was a fist headed directly toward her face.

  As Nicki slowly came to she felt a sharp pain near her left eye. She touched the area and felt an even sharper pain. She couldn’t open her left eye, but vision slowly came back to her right eye. Her head was spinning. She slowly sat up and looked around her. The PMR-30 was still in her right hand as she immediately noticed two dead men in orange jumpsuits; one to her left and one behind her. Confused, she noticed that her magazine was empty. She must have emptied it in the man charging her right as he lunged at her. She quickly glanced, searching for the woman whom she had just saved; she was nowhere to be found.

  “Some thanks that is,” she thought.

  She looked at her mechanical watch and realized she had been unconscious for over two hours. She wanted to cry but knew she couldn’t. She needed to be quiet and focus on getting home. The last thing she wanted to do was attract other people even if they wanted to help.

  Nicki took the Bug Out Bag off her back and took out the first aid kit. She took out a package of Tylenol® and searched for a US Coast Guard water pouch. She opened the water pouch and swallowed the two Tylenol tablets. She took out a cold compress, activated it, and placed it over her eye. She wrapped gauze around the cold compress and her eye holding the compress in place. She slowly stood up making sure to keep her balance. She replaced the magazine in her PMR-30 with a fresh magazine and holstered the gun. She did a 360 degree assessment of the area, turned, and continued her walk home. With pain in her left eye, a major headache, and one good eye, she had to be cautious and focused. After what seemed like days, which had only actually been three hours, Nicki began walking on 31 West. If she stayed on 31 West it would take her into Kentucky and soon she would be home.

  15

  Prepping Skills Kick In

  RANDALL WAS SITTING IN ENGLISH CLASS WHEN HE HEARD THE fan on the smart projector begin to whine. At the same time, the projector light began oscillating between bright and dim. Several seconds later he could see black smoke coming from the projector before it shut down. At almost the same time, he saw his teacher, Ms. Hale, jump up and scream. The entire class watched as she grabbed the fire extinguisher, carried it to her desk, aimed it at her laptop, and pulled the trigger. The class sat silent as a white fog filled the classroom.

  Everyone was stunned when they heard similar commotions coming from the other classrooms. Randall was quick to realize that what had happened to Ms. Hale probably happened in other classrooms too. As Ms. Hale tried to figure out what happened, Randall noticed the lights acting funny. They were pulsing from dim to bright before they turned completely off. Without thinking, Randall looked immediately at the Emergency Exit light which was located above the main classroom door. It was out. Not a flicker of light could be seen. Randall remembered his dad telling him time and time again that if the power went out, the Emergency Exit lights would turn on. Usually, nothing to worry about. If the power went out and the Emergency Exit lights didn’t illuminate, it was time to go to your car and drive home or if the car wouldn’t start, walk home. Oz told Randall that it wasn’t a free pass to leave school whenever he wanted but if he felt an SHTF had happened, he should have confidence knowing that Oz would defend and support his decision.

  “We’re probably going to go into lockdown,” Joe said to Randall. Joe had been Randall’s best friend since tenth grade. They were two peas in a pod.

  “Do I or do I not?” Randall contemplated.

  “Joe, you need to go home. This sounds crazy, and trust me my dad is crazy, but the Emergency Exit light isn’t working. We have no lights. I’m willing to bet that the entire town has no power,” Randall said with a look of concern.

  “So what?” Joe retorted. “The lights have gone out many times and they’ll go out many times in the future. Don’t freak out, Randall.”

  “You don’t understand, Joe,” Randall explained. “The Emergency Exit lights are only hardwired to make sure the batteries stay charged. The actual lights themselves operate off the battery. They should be on but they’re not. The lights short-circuited. Only a strong power surge could cause that.” Joe looked stunned as he tried to understand Randall’s explanation.

  “Joe, you need to get home. I’m leaving now,” Randall said as he stood up, grabbed his backpack, and stopped by Ms. Hale’s desk.

  “Ms. Hale,” Randall said in a soft voice. “I have to go to the bathroom. Something I ate is not agreeing with me.”

  “Hurry back. We need to make sure everyone is accounted for,” Ms. Hale said.

  Randall turned and began to walk out the door when he heard Ms. Hale say, “Randall, why are you taking your backpack?”

  “Sorry, Ms. Hale. It’s a habit,” he said as he took his backpack off and sat it by his desk before leaving the classroom.

  As Randall turned into the hall he saw a group of teachers huddled together.

  “That doesn’t look good,” he thought. He could hear them saying things like, “Do we need to go into lockdown,” “My phone’s not working,” “Was your computer smoking?” “I can’t reach my husband” and “I hope that Walmart has power.”

  Without making eye contact, Randall walked past them, made a right turn down another hallway, and headed out an emergency door. Where there would normally be an alarm going off when Randall pushed the door bar to exit the building, there was only silence followed by the door opening. Randall walked briskly to his car. As he approached the door he took the car key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He quickly sat down, inserted the key in the ignition, and turned it. Nothing. He turned the key a second time. Nothing.

  “Dad was right,” he said out loud. “My dad is actually right. Oh man, I’m never going to live this one down.”

  Randall stepped out of the car and opened the hatchback. He pulled his Bug Out Bag out and opened the main compartment. Like the rest of the family’s bags, there was a letter in a plastic protective bag. Randall unzipped the plastic bag and pulled the letter out. On the front of the envelope read “I told you so, Love Dad.” Randall laughed. Was his dad ever predictable? He opened the envelope and pulled the letter out, and read it:

  Randall,

  If you are reading this letter the Stuff Hit the Fan. Like your sister, I know you well and there would be no other reason for you to use the contents of this Bug Out Bag.

  First, let me tell you that your safety is priority one. Be aware of your surroundings and constantly, I mean constantly scan your immediate area for danger. Head home!!!! If you’re at school, your walk home will only take four to five hours and it will most likely be in daylight hours. If you can, jog home. You’re in great shape. If you qu
estion your safety only travel at night and hide during the day. IF TRAVELING AT NIGHT PUT ON THE CAMOUFLAGE PANTS AND LONG SLEEVE SHIRT. Remember when I taught you about a gray man (fitting into your environment and not sticking out like a sore thumb)? Now is the time to be that person.

  I’ve included maps in the Velcro compartment on the very back of the Bug Out Bag. These are just in case your car doesn’t run or the highways are impassable. ALWAYS use back roads where possible.

  Second, your Bug Out Bag contains many things to keep you safe, warm, and fed. You will most likely not need them because of your distance to our house. Just in case, you have:

  First aid kit with many different supplies

  Baofeng radio (when you’re close to the house contact us on Channel 1)

  3 flashlights

  3 Mountain House freeze-dried meals

  4 US Coast Guard water pouches

  Life Straw (use to filter water from a creek or a questionable source)

  Waterproof matches, blast match, cotton balls, char cloth, lighters, twine, and candles

  Two knives (on the outside of your BOB)

  Light (headlamp, glow sticks, and Stream Light flashlight)

  Emergency blankets

  Writing tools (Sharpie and Fisher Space Pen) with a notebook

  Third, if you are the first person home, go to the safe in the garage and grab the Red Binder that is labeled ‘SHTF—Elevated Threat Manual.’ Read it then re-read it and FOLLOW all directions. This binder contains directions on how to secure our house.

  If you get in a bad situation I want you to FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE. Do not give up. Pull hair. Kick or hit guys in the nuts. As hard as you can, push your finger through someone’s eyeballs. Punch someone in the throat as hard as you can. Get your finger in your attacker’s ear and push as hard as you can. FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE!!!!