Survival EMP Box Set | Books 1-4

by Lopez, Rob

  “Yup. You can say goodbye to mud huts and outdoor living. Grab a piece of real estate fast before someone else seals the deal. I myself have an eye on some pretty hot property, so let us be gone.”

  “And the raiders …?”

  “We kicked their asses. Don’t worry about them. Are you coming or not? Jeez, it’s not like you’ve got to figure out what to wear. Time’s pressing.”

  April turned to Dee. “Come with us,” she said.

  Dee, surprised to even be thought of, hesitated. “Uhm, I don’t know.”

  “Come on. For Jacob.”

  “I only got four seats available,” said Packy.

  “Do the rest of us get to go?” said Chuck.

  “Bus will be along for you later, Pops. Ladies, please. If we don’t go now, someone else is going to get my place and I’m going to end up with some lousy hole. Don’t do this to me.”

  *

  Packy drove like the devil himself was about to steal his deal. Sitting in the back of the Blazer between Lizzy and Josh, Dee hung onto Jacob as Packy negotiated the bends. When they reached the ambush point where two burned-out vehicles blocked the way, Packy took the vehicle off-road, weaving through the trees and through a stream to bypass a blown culvert before bouncing back onto the road.

  “You’re certain that Scott is okay?” asked April for the third time.

  “Sure. Nobody got hurt. Crazy, right? You should have seen it. They were, like, mowing them down. Poor saps never stood a chance. Of course, our guys went through a hell of a lot of ammo. Rick tells me to replenish supplies, but seriously? Handloading that stuff takes time, and it ain’t cheap. That man does not understand supply and demand.”

  They approached a log barricade in the road. Two militia guards flagged down the vehicle to check who was inside, then waved them on. Dee noted a sheet-covered body on the ground as they passed.

  Packy drove to some cabins by a small lake and pulled over.

  “Okay, folks,” he said. “Everybody out.”

  The passengers got out of the vehicle and Packy immediately sped off.

  Dee looked up to the lodge and the surrounding mountains. Bodies were being carried out of the lodge and Lauren stood on the deck shouting orders to militiamen wandering around the compound. By the lake the lilacs were in full bloom, rising above the weeds. Scott emerged from behind a cabin to embrace April and Daniel, a broad smile on his face. Lizzy ran up the steps to the lodge to greet her mother, with Josh following at a more dignified pace. Dee spun around slowly, taking in the cacophony of voices echoing around the valley. Gone were the muted, cautious tones of people afraid of discovery by bad men intent on doing them harm.

  “I’ve got three shovels. Where do you want me to start digging?”

  “Over there. Just dig one mass grave. Where’s Rick?”

  “He’s checking out one of the trails.”

  “I’ve found some more ammunition. Where do you want it?”

  “Stack it here.”

  “No, I want that stuff over by the lodge. Where’s Packy?”

  “He’s checking out a house.”

  “Get him back here. I need someone to get Sally. I want her to take a look at the women.”

  “I’ll check in on them.”

  “No. You’re a guy. I don’t want anyone going near that cabin until Sally gets here. Not after what they’ve been through.”

  “What kind of guy do you think I am?”

  “Doesn’t matter. They’ve been through an ordeal and the last thing they want to see is a guy with a gun. Trust me. If you want to make yourself useful, find some more shovels. I want that culvert filled in and the road to Camp Grier made safe.”

  Ignored by everyone, Dee drifted over to the indicated cabin. She pushed the door open. Inside it was dark and dusty. There was an overwhelming smell of body odor. She couldn’t see any women, and for a moment wondered where they were. Then she noticed dirty faces staring at her from behind chairs and in the corners. Even now, they were trying to hide. As they all looked at Dee and her baby, she sensed their apprehension.

  But she also recognized the trauma in their eyes. She knew what they were feeling, and understood their mistrust. Abused by the raiders for so long, they’d lost all hope that life could ever be different. It was a cathartic moment for Dee. As she turned a chair to face them and sank down into it, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders.

  She was no longer alone.

  “Hi,” she said.

  Nine faces stared back until one summoned the courage to speak. “How long are we going to be kept here?”

  Tears pricked Dee’s eyes, and her cynical wall melted away. “You’re not being kept. You’re free now.”

  The speaker took a moment to digest this. “And who are you?”

  “A friend. I want to tell you my story.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I know you’ll understand, and not judge.” The tears flowed freely down her cheeks. “And then I want to listen to yours.”

  *

  Sally arrived on the next ride. Shouldering her medical bag, she strode through all the activity in the camp until she found Lauren.

  “You got my message, then,” said Lauren.

  “Yeah, you said you had eight women.”

  “Nine.”

  Lauren nodded to the cabin across the compound and the two began walking.

  “What are their injuries?” asked Sally.

  “Uh, none.”

  “None?”

  “Not that I can see. It’s in their heads. Post-traumatic stress. I just want you to check them out before we take them back to their communities. Blood pressure, lowered immune system, that kind of thing. Maybe you can talk to them and put them at ease, listen to their problems, I don’t know.”

  “Couldn’t you have done that?”

  Lauren pulled a face. “I’m not good at that kind of thing. I thought you’d have experience of that as a nurse.”

  “Sure, but I’ve got patients back at the mountain. If these women aren’t suffering from anything life-threatening, they can wait.”

  “I know, maybe I shouldn’t have pulled you away, but when they came out of the lodge they were like zombies. And, uh, some of them might be pregnant.” Lauren stopped, sighing heavily. “They’ve been continually raped for months. Now that it’s over, I’m worried some of them might freak out. Maybe even commit suicide when they realize what’s growing inside them, you know? I, uh, think they need some care.”

  Sally paused. “I’m not sure I can help with that. As a Christian, I can’t countenance abortion.” She pursed her lips. “Though emergency measures were taken when missionary nuns were raped in Africa, which I guess might set a precedent, but I’m not comfortable with it.”

  “That’s not what I’m asking. Just some counseling and stuff. I don’t know. I didn’t predict this and I’m not sure what to do.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  April approached them. “How’s it going?” she asked.

  “Good question,” said Lauren. “Sally’s going to take a look at the women we rescued, and hopefully make an assessment.”

  “Don’t bother going in there yet. Dee’s with them.”

  “Dee?”

  “She’s been in there for an hour. I don’t know what they’re doing.”

  “Oh my God, Dee’s the last person I want them to see. They’re traumatized enough already. They don’t need extra lessons.”

  “Don’t be so hard on her,” rebuked April. “Dee’s probably the one who can connect with them the best. Think about it. She’s been through a similar experience.”

  “I know, but I’d prefer a level-headed professional to talk to them first.”

  “Well, that rules me out,” said Sally.

  “No. You know what you’re doing. I’ve got more faith in you than Dee. She tried to sell us out. Chasing after her was bad enough. I don’t want them all losing it at the same time and making a run for the hills.”
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  “Give her time,” said April. “You’ll see she’s got some good in her.”

  Lauren gave her a pitying look.

  “I don’t have time to stick around,” interjected Sally. “We’re moving the typhus cases down to a cabin at Camp Grier, and I want to oversee the transfer. I’ve got Packy waiting to take me back.”

  “You’re right,” said Lauren. “Enough talk. Go right on in and see what you can do.”

  Sally walked to the cabin, knocked once on the door and let herself in. She found Dee and the women sitting in a circle, like an alcoholics anonymous meeting. Some of them were hugging each other, and a woman cried while she told her story to the group. When it got difficult for her to talk, Dee took her hand and the others pressed in closer to comfort her.

  Sally stepped back out of the cabin. “They look okay to me,” she told Lauren. “Dee’s got this.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. That’s a therapy session in there. Give them all the time and space they need. What Dee’s got going is stronger than any medicine I can give. I’ll come back again this evening.”

  April gave Lauren a side glance as Sally hurried to the waiting car.

  “Okay, I was wrong,” conceded Lauren.

  April touched Lauren’s arm. “No, just cautious.” She smiled. “And a tough bitch.”

  Lauren massaged her eyes. “I’m tired. That’s what it is. Give me a chance to sleep well tonight and I’ll be as sweet as Betty Crocker.”

  “Really?”

  “No, but I could be a little less crabby.”

  25

  The homestead was half-hidden in the hills near Weaverville, north of Asheville. It was a solidly built property made of stone and embedded into the earth of a sloping meadow, so that it was protected on three sides. A two-story house with a steel roof, it had an extensive frontage with a triple garage and shuttered windows with firing slits. A creek ran through the meadow close to the house. Livestock sheds and chicken coops sat farther down the slope, dug into the ground and easily covered by rifle fire from the house.

  “What’s happening here?” said Connors as he arrived at the edge of the ten acre forest clearing.

  A platoon of militia lay in a line under the trees, rifles aimed toward the house. A single man lay by a gravel track, about a hundred yards into the meadow. He was screaming and clutching his leg. Another man, a militia member, was crouched farther in against the wall of the chicken coop, ducking low to keep his head below the level of the roof. Clutching his rifle, he kept glancing toward the screaming man, but it was clear he was afraid to move.

  “It’s a standoff,” explained Parson. “We had a squad escort the tax assessor to the property, but the owners got into an argument with him. They wouldn’t let us inside to inspect the armory, either.”

  “Armory?”

  “It’s a prepper community. We think there’s about three families here, with maybe some in-laws or friends as well. They’re well armed, and in the shootout, the assessor got hit. The platoon had to retreat, but we’ve got one guy stuck there. Got another couple of guys wounded behind you, but we’re treating them now.”

  “Did you tell them who we were so they didn’t just mistake you for bandits?”

  “We made it very clear who we were, sir, and, well, that just seemed to piss them off even more. They said they don’t owe the state nothing and demanded we get off the property.”

  Connors checked the house out with binoculars. “Doesn’t look like they’ve got a way out of there. We could wait. Tried cutting off their water supply?”

  “It’s hidden, and they’ve got a periscope and a gun position in the roof with an arc of fire over the back. We couldn’t stick around for a better look.”

  “Seems like they have themselves a very well-protected property.”

  “Yes, sir, they do. And I wouldn’t count on a siege, either, as I’m pretty sure they have a good stock of food. Besides, I don’t want to wait as I’m worried about our assessor. He’s hurt real bad and I don’t know how long he’ll last.”

  “If he’s got the energy to yell like that, he ain’t hurt so bad, or he would have bled out by now. Have you tried a parley under a white flag to get them to see sense?”

  “Yes, sir. Nearly got my head blown off. They don’t want to talk. I’m thinking maybe if you’ve got some smoke grenades in your arsenal, we could lay a screen to retrieve our men. Then maybe we can let the situation calm down and find another way to communicate with them. Maybe negotiate.”

  Connors gave him a look. “Sure we can communicate with them.”

  He turned and walked back a few yards to where Leon and Taft had set the mortar up.

  “Level the place,” he said.

  The first round looped high into the air and landed behind the house, sending up a cloud of dirt. The second round landed in the middle of the roof, ripping it open like tinfoil.

  *

  Lou sat at his desk in the middle of his construction supplies yard, reappraising Rick.

  “You’ve got balls,” he signed, interpreted by Farah.

  “If that’s all I had, I wouldn’t be very useful.”

  “You beat the raiders.”

  “They’re gone.”

  “You drove them out?”

  “No. They’re gone. In the terminal sense.”

  “And you brought two of our women back.”

  “This is where they live.”

  “I have to say, I didn’t think you could do it.” Lou leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard. “And now I suppose you want something in return.”

  “Doesn’t work that way. I want to invite you to attend a summit.”

  Lou laughed noiselessly, his shoulders shaking. “A summit? Like world leaders?”

  “Community leaders. I’d like to invite you and others to Old Fort to discuss where we go from here. I want to propose an alliance.”

  “And what have the others said?”

  “I haven’t asked them yet. You’re the first.”

  “Like I said, you’ve got balls. Am I to understand that you’re going to be the leader of this alliance?”

  “That’s not how it works either. The alliance will be whatever everyone wants it to be.”

  “And if I say I don’t want to go?”

  “I can’t make you, but what’s the harm in coming? Hear me out, take part in the discussion, and if you don’t like it, you leave. It’s pretty straightforward.”

  Lou tapped the table for a minute before launching his hands into another flurry of signing. “And if I join an alliance, I guess I’ve got to commit my people to something.”

  “That’s generally how an alliance works.”

  “That means a commitment from you too.”

  “It does. We’ll haggle out the details at the summit. If you come.”

  Lou scrutinized Rick, like he was trying to figure out a hidden subtext. “I’ll take it under consideration,” he signed.

  “Okay. We meet at the Old Fort Railroad museum in five days. Noon. I’ll leave it up to you if you want to be there.” Rick got up, taking back his Glock from the table and holstering it. “We arrived in two vehicles. We’ll leave in one. The other one’s yours.”

  Lou cocked an eyebrow. “A gift? Or a bribe?”

  “Take it anyway you want. It’s surplus, and it gives us a means to stay in touch. At least until someone figures out how to fix the radios.”

  *

  Dee looked out from the deck adjoining the mobile home. A plastic chair in the fenced yard was almost obscured by waist-high weeds. A rusty satellite dish rocked in the breeze on its loose mounting. The windows of the home were grimy, and Dee couldn’t see inside too well. Bonnie, one of the women rescued from the raiders, refused to even enter the house.

  “I don’t feel safe here anymore,” she said in a self-embrace. “I don’t know if I can come back.”

  “I understand,” said Dee. “I’ll go inside if you want, see if I can ge
t some of your things.”

  “I don’t want them. They’re not my things anymore.” Bonnie pushed her dark hair from her face and chewed on a finger nail. Her gaunt features were tense, the skin pulled tight over the cheekbones. “They took everything from me, you know? They invaded and violated it. And me. It’s not my home anymore. I wish they’d burned it. I wish …”

  “It’s okay,” said Dee. “You can stay someplace else. Somewhere with more people.”

  They were on the edge of the Ashworth community here, by the road that snaked through the hills before descending to the abandoned streets of Marion.

  “I don’t want to be with people,” said Bonnie. “It was people who did this to me. I want to be alone but … I don’t feel safe anywhere. Is this how it was for you?”

  “It was.”

  “I don’t trust anyone.”

  “I know.”

  “Goddamn it, I want to cry but I’ve got no tears. It’s like I don’t want to let them out.”

  “You’re afraid that if you open up, you’ll let in the pain.”

  “What is there for me now? I don’t want this. I … I can’t live like this.” Bonnie put her hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. “I got too many memories. I grew up here. I, like, played right here as a kid. I can see the other kids. We used to run around. I can see them now. And I can see the raiders coming to the house …”

  “They’re gone now,” said Dee. “They won’t be coming back.”

  “They’re all gone. Everyone I grew up with.” Bonnie took a deep, halting breath. “I can’t stay here.”

  “Then don’t. Come on. We’ll find Phoebe. You can shack up together.”

  “She’s got her folks …”

  “It’ll be okay. They’ll understand.”

  “But will they? Does anyone understand? I’m going to be just some freaky woman to them. Promise me you’ll stick around. You get how it is. Please. I don’t want to be alone.”

  Dee took Bonnie’s hand. “I’ll come visit. I’ll visit you all.”

  Bonnie gripped the hand tight. “You have to. Promise me you will.”

  “You know I will.”

  “I don’t.”

  “You do. We’re in this together. Show some grit. I know you’ve got it in you.”