Bitter Cold Apocalypse | Book 1 | Bitter Cold Apocalypse

by Connor, T. W.

  I didn’t know where Randall had found men crazy enough to fight on his side. But I knew they were coming. And we needed to get Ellis Woods ready to defend itself.

  25

  When we got to Town Hall, we found that I’d been right: This was in fact where the leaders of the town were gathering everyone. The building was a large, open format, complete with the thick, heavily engineered walls this area of the country required. I’d spoken with Angie’s uncle, Mayor Bob, when I first moved to town, and had been told right away that the hall was the gathering place should anything happen. Large snow storms. Lack of electricity.

  Nuclear EMP/solar storm that took out anything resembling heating, communications, or light.

  Bob was a good mayor and had good people around him, and they’d had extensive planning for this sort of situation—or rather, a situation that might resemble this one. I’d actually been a part of the party that had helped him move the new generator in last year, and then hook it up. Hell, we’d had a huge party in the hall, powered by nothing but the generator. So I could vouch for its ability to heat the place. Keep it livable.

  As we stood in the entryway, our eyes on the hundreds of people stuffed into the area, I found myself appreciating his foresight more than I had at that time, though. Outside, the town was cold and dark, looking as if it had been completely deserted. Looking as if it was housing nothing but the dead.

  In here, though people looked frightened and confused, they were also flush with warmth—and well-lit. They might not have been laughing, but they were crowded together in groups, against a backdrop of tents and picnic tables, talking quietly about the situation.

  No one was panicking. No one was freezing slowly to death. And that meant a whole lot more than I had realized it would. After the last two days in the forest, it felt…safe.

  I felt safe.

  Then I heard someone screech.

  “Mom! Dad!”

  I turned just in time to see a blur of movement rushing toward us at light speed, and stepped toward it just in time to catch Sarah as she launched herself into the air. I nabbed her before she could hit her mom—who was barely stable on her own two legs—and pulled her quickly to me.

  “Sarah, girl, we’ve been so worried about you,” I whispered against her hair. Then I pulled her back and stared into her deep blue eyes. “Are you okay? Is everything okay?”

  “Dad, the power went out,” she said, those eyes growing wide. “And the sky turned yellow. What is it?”

  Before I could answer, though, she realized that she was neglecting her mother, and squirmed to get down.

  “Mommy, Mommy!”

  “Be careful, little bug, your mom had an accident, and her leg isn’t feeling too good,” I warned as I put her down.

  Sarah came to a quick stop and stared at Angie, her mouth opened into an O.

  “Mommy, you have a robot leg,” she said, obviously torn between being impressed and being horrified.

  Angie, unable to get to her knees, bent over at the hip and held her hands out to her daughter. “Don’t worry,” she said, laughing. “It’s not permanent.”

  I laughed too, but I could see Marlon standing behind Angie, his face serious, and I nodded once to him. Angie might be feeling better right now, but that adrenaline was going to wear off sooner rather than later, and when that happened, I wanted to have a doctor handy.

  I also wanted to talk to the man in charge about what we’d seen outside.

  I turned, my eyes going through the crowd as I looked for Bob, praying that he would be within easy reach. As it happened, he’d noticed the action at the front of the room and was already on his way toward me, his arms outstretched. He pulled me right into a hug—not caring, evidently, that I was not the sort who gave hugs—and I could hear the tears in his voice when he started speaking.

  “I was so worried,” he ground out. “That explosion in the sky, and then you two didn’t come home…”

  I pulled back from him and looked up at the larger man. He’d given me my opening. Now it was time to share the information I had.

  “We ran into some trouble,” I said shortly. “Bear. Angie’s leg is broken, and she needs the doctor.”

  “Dr. Williams!” Bob shouted without taking his eyes off my face. “I’ve got a wounded niece over here!” Then, dropping his voice again, he said, “And? I can see that there’s more to your story.”

  “And,” I said, grateful for his quick brain, “we also ran into another sort of trouble. Man by the name of Randall.”

  All the color drained out of Bob’s face, and he closed his eyes for a long moment, taking a deep, heaving breath. “Randall Smith,” he said succinctly. “Yes, I know the man.”

  “I got that idea,” I told him. “I don’t know what he did or why he was kicked out of town, but when he found out who Angie is, he tried to kidnap her. Thought he could use her as leverage against you. They tried to kill me to get to her, but we got away and found help. This is Marlon Jones,” I said, gesturing to our new friend. “He helped us get out of the forest.”

  Marlon stepped forward, his hand stretched out in greeting, and though Bob gave him an odd look—one that I wondered deeply at—he took the proffered hand and shook it firmly.

  “Marlon. I’ve heard of you, of course, but never had the chance to get out that way to meet you. I’m so thankful to you for helping my niece and her husband. So, so thankful.”

  I tipped my head at that. Bob had heard of Marlon? How? Why? And what was with the look?

  At that moment, though, the chief of police, Sean Slatten, came running up, his face red and his chest heaving as if he’d been running for some time.

  He took a moment to nod in my direction, then turned to Bob.

  “Mayor,” he said quickly. “We’ve got trouble. I was out walking the borders of the town, looking for any trouble, and I happened to see—”

  “Randall Smith and a band of men across the river,” I guessed.

  Sean nodded once. “With guns,” he continued. “Guns aimed in this direction. There aren’t many of them. Not yet. But on my way back I came across Henry O’Connor.”

  Henry O’Connor. Another man who lived outside of town limits, though he came into town often enough to be friendly with the locals. He was nothing like Randall. I didn’t think.

  “One of Randall’s more civilized friends,” Bob said in an aside that I knew was meant for me.

  “Exactly,” Sean continued. “He told me that Randall’s already sent men out to his contacts in the area. He’s building a militia of sorts.”

  “The militia he wanted to build when all the trouble first started,” Bob responded quietly. “The militia I told him I wouldn’t support.” Turning to me, he continued, “It’s why we forbid him from coming into town. We’ve always been preppers in this town. This far away from civilization, you have to be. You know that. You’ve seen the stores—the generators we saved so hard to build. Hell, we’re using those generators right now. But he wanted to go way further than we did. Wanted to turn prepping into something more. Make it a battle. Doomsday stuff, you know the sort. He was positive that the government was going to try to attack us or that something would go so catastrophically wrong that other groups would appear and attack us. Take our things. He started building up his own stash of weapons and goods. Even some chemicals that he thought he’d be able to use against whoever might show up. Wanted to build a group of armed soldiers. But I didn’t want anything to do with it. That’s not protecting ourselves. That’s not helping our neighbors. It’s not what we stand for up here. We took a vote on the council and ended up telling him he had no place here. That he needed to take his crazy ideas somewhere else.”

  Right. No wonder he’d thought he could kidnap Angie and use her as a bargaining chip. He wanted to make this town into some sort of fort against anyone that might come around. And he was crazy enough to somehow think it was necessary. And I had no doubt that that was exactly why he was gathering people
now: to take what this town had worked so hard to build up.

  Take it and use it for the wrong reasons.

  “Henry said he didn’t want any part of it,” Sean continued. “But told me there were a lot of men that were responding. Men who wanted the same thing as Randall. Men who won’t have any problem making trouble.”

  Bob and I shared a long, tense look, neither of us saying anything. Then I glanced at Marlon—and saw that his face was just as serious as mine felt.

  We’d made it back to Ellis Woods. We’d found our people. Found our daughter, and a doctor for Angie. And we were safe, dry, and warm. For now.

  But come tomorrow, it looked like we’d be fighting a battle to keep this very town safe from the same man we’d been trying to escape.

  # # #

  TO BE CONTINUED IN BOOK 2… COMING SOON!

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  About the Author

  T.W. Connor enjoys spending time in the wilderness, as well as reading and writing books of adventure and survival.

  Get in touch: contact@twconnor.com