Surviving: The Complete Series [Books 1-3]

by Westfield, Ryan

  She had to get back to the front door.

  She started running, staying in the trees, taking the long way around the lake house that would take her towards the water. This was the only way she could stay within the cover of the trees.

  She was sweating and panting when she got near the front door again, just a few minutes later.

  Jessica stayed back, hidden among the boughs of the evergreen trees, waiting for something to happen, for someone to show their face.

  Was it possible they were already inside the house?

  Probably not, unless they’d gone in through a window. She might have missed the sound of a window breaking during her skirmish.

  If they’d gone in through the door, it would have been busted open.

  But she could see it there, closed and intact.

  A gunshot rang out, breaking the silence.

  It had come from the road.

  Now at least she knew where the action was.

  Another gunshot followed, and Jessica started moving swiftly in that direction. She tried to stay under the cover of the trees as best she could, not straying far from the trunks.

  Finally, she saw Rob. He was maybe a hundred yards in front of her, out on the other side of the road. He’d taken shelter behind a tree.

  Another hundred yards or so from Rob, off to the left, were the two oldest Carpenters.

  It was a standoff. Each side was under cover.

  Jessica watched as Mr. Carpenter moved slightly out from behind the trunk, getting off a single useless shot in Rob’s direction. They still hadn’t seen Jessica.

  Jessica unslung one of the two rifles from her shoulder, holstered her Glock, and got the sights lined up with Mr. Carpenter.

  It’d have to be a clean shot.

  But she didn’t think she had the skill to pull off a headshot.

  The chest was easier. Less risky.

  She had it all lined up.

  The safety was off.

  She pulled the trigger.

  The shot rang out.

  Carpenter fell.

  His wife screamed, a wail so painful that Jessica thought for a moment that somehow the bullet had hit both of them.

  But Mrs. Carpenter was still very much alive.

  And it was then that it hit Jessica. She’d just killed not just a husband and father, but two brothers, two sons. She’d almost decimated an entire family.

  And it was a family that, before the EMP, while they might not have been the most engaging or polite, they’d been something. They’d been taxpayers, workers, maybe students. They’d been something. A family unit. Humans.

  She didn’t let it get to her.

  As far as she was concerned, the Carpenters had transformed beyond all that. And it was a choice that they themselves had made.

  She felt no remorse. It wouldn’t have made sense.

  This was about survival.

  A bullet slammed into the tree trunk behind which Jessica was standing.

  Mrs. Carpenter wasn’t giving up without a fight.

  She was committed to going down with her husband. To die trying to take out someone else with her. Two if she could, probably.

  It was senseless.

  But it wasn’t meaningless.

  Jessica was about to pop out from the other side of the tree trunk to get off another shot when she felt a whoosh of air.

  She heard the gunshot a split second later.

  Shards of wood exploded out from the tree trunk above her. The bullet had missed her by inches.

  More importantly, the bullet had come from the other direction.

  It wasn’t just Mrs. Carpenter who was left.

  There was another.

  Jessica couldn’t hide behind the tree trunk, or she’d be in a perfect position for Mrs. Carpenter to shoot her.

  So she started sprinting, heading right towards where the bullet had come from.

  She ran in a zigzag pattern. She used the trees as cover.

  Another gunshot sounded. Then another.

  She was getting closer. She drew her Glock and pointed it forward as she ran.

  She had him. She pulled the trigger as she ran. Once, twice. A third time and he was done, lying on his back, not a single spot of blood visible on his clothes.

  He was dead.

  Another gunshot rang out. The sound of a rifle.

  Jessica spun around, hoping against hope to see Rob still standing, and to see Mrs. Carpenter dead behind the tree.

  29

  Aly

  Aly woke up feeling better than she had in days.

  For the first time, the world didn’t seem to be a swirl of confusion. She didn’t feel overheated, and she wasn’t sweating.

  “You’re awake,” said Jim, putting his hand gently on her outstretched arm. He was seated in a chair next to the bed.

  “What happened?” said Aly.

  “You’re going to pull through. That’s what happened.”

  “I remember getting shot.”

  “The wound got infected.”

  “She’s awake!” came Rob’s voice from outside the room.

  A moment later, he’d thundered into the room. He stood there, his huge frame taking up the entire doorway.

  “Was it that bad?” said Aly. “I can’t remember much. I just remember being really hot… everything was confusing. I didn’t know what was going on. I must have been having nightmares. I remember hearing gunshots. Lots of them.”

  “That was all real,” said Jim. “When I was gone, the Carpenters came back.”

  “They did? That was all real?”

  “Very much so. But they’re not a problem anymore.”

  “You mean they’re…”

  “Dead, yes.”

  “And where were you?” said Aly. “It was just Rob and Jessica here with me?”

  “He went to Dewittville to get you the antibiotics you needed,” said Rob. “Risked his life, too. Pretty dangerous situation, from what he’s said.”

  Aly looked at her husband with a sense of admiration and pride. But Jim merely shrugged his shoulders and said, “I got through it.”

  “So what do we do now? What’s going on in Rochester and elsewhere?”

  “We don’t have a lot of information,” said Jim. “But if Dewittville is any indication, things aren’t going well for the people in Rochester.”

  “They’re dying off,” said Rob. “At least that’s what Jim says.”

  “There’s no need to sugar coat it for me,” said Aly.

  “I was just trying… you just woke up after all.”

  “You think I’m delicate?”

  “I didn’t say that,” said Jim.

  Aly couldn’t help herself. She laughed, laughed at Jim’s serious expression.

  He obviously cared for her. She could see that more clearly now than she had in a long, long time. Maybe their relationship wasn’t as doomed as she’d thought it had been when they’d separated and she’d moved in with her mother.

  “So what’s the plan?” said Aly. “Lay it on me. I’ll feel better if I know what’s going on.”

  “We’ve started to catch fish from the lake,” said Jim. “Now that the Carpenters are gone, we’ve got a little more freedom. We don’t have to worry about security quite as much.”

  “You haven’t had any other visitors?” said Aly.

  “I saw someone walking down the road, but that was it,” said Jim.

  “And the Carpenter’s house? I hope you got what was there.”

  “It was pretty filthy,” said Jim.

  “Absolutely disgusting,” said Rob.

  “And they didn’t have much food. But we got some useful things. They’re in the living room, already categorized.”

  “So you think we’re going to be OK here?”

  “Well, until more people start leaving the cities. There isn’t going to be avoiding them. But we’ve got some plans for that.”

  “Hopefully that doesn’t happen for a while,” said A
ly. “I feel better, but not like I’m ready to fight anyone yet.”

  “There’s no telling how long it’ll be,” said Jim.

  “Jim keeps saying it’s ‘a question of when, not if,’” said Rob.

  Suddenly, Aly realized that no one had mentioned Jessica. She started to feel anxious. Was it possible they were saving the worst news for last?

  “And Jessica?” said Aly, her voice sounding low and timid.

  “She’s on watch,” said Jim.

  “Somebody’s got to do it,” said Rob. “Don’t worry. She’s got a thermos of coffee. We found plenty of coffee at the Carpenter’s house. So no more rationing the coffee.”

  “We’ll see about that,” said Jim. “As far as we know, that might be the last coffee we come across.”

  “Come on, Jim,” said Rob. “What are we going to do without coffee?”

  “I didn’t know you were such a coffee fanatic?”

  “You didn’t know that? We’ve only been drinking coffee together for… how many years?”

  “You two sound just like you used to,” said Aly, letting out a weak little laugh. The laugh made her bullet wound hurt. But it wasn’t too bad.

  Suddenly, Aly heard the front door being thrown open. There were heavy, fast footsteps on the floor.

  Jim stood up and drew his revolver.

  “It’s Jessica,” said Rob, his head and gun around the corner of the doorway.

  Jessica appeared, out of breath and sweating. “We’ve got company,” she said.

  “Who?” said Rob.

  “How many?” said Jim.

  “Just one.”

  “One?”

  “He says he knows you,” said Jessica, looking right at Aly.

  “Me?” said Aly, confused.

  “He says he’s your uncle.”

  Aly let out a long sigh. She didn’t know what to think. On one hand, she was glad her uncle wasn’t dead. On the other, he’d done nothing but cause problems for the family his entire life. And that was before the EMP. What kind of trouble would he cause now?

  “Should I let him in?” said Jessica.

  Jim nodded, but Aly noticed that he didn’t put his revolver away.

  Jessica disappeared and returned a few moments later, followed by a man that Aly almost didn’t recognize.

  Jessica stepped to the side and Aly got a full view of her uncle.

  He didn’t speak.

  He just looked at her.

  And she looked at him, speechless.

  It looked like he was back from the dead.

  His hair and beard were incredibly long and filthy. His clothes were nothing more than rags. He was emaciated, almost nothing but skin and bones.

  His face was filthy, and she could smell the stench of alcohol on him from across the room.

  “Where the hell is everything?” he suddenly barked, his voice sounding like he hadn’t used it in months. “My vodka? What the hell have you done to my house? And who’s this guy?”

  His return was going to be difficult to deal with, to say the least.

  Final Panic

  Jim

  Jim

  It hadn’t been long since the EMP. But it’d been long enough for society to start to unravel. Violence was everywhere. Those who’d survived were in hiding, trying their best to seek out whatever meager existence they could.

  Jim, Aly, Jessica, and Rob had taken shelter in Aly’s uncle’s lake house, a couple of hours from Rochester. They’d only barely survived an attack by a neighboring family. Aly had been shot, and when the infection had gotten bad, Jim had ventured outside the relatively calm area of the lake to get the antibiotics she’d needed.

  Jim had just barely made it back. And his wife, Aly, had just barely recovered from her infected wound.

  It wasn’t like there were any hospitals or doctors they could get to. If the penicillin hadn’t worked, there wouldn’t have been much more they could do.

  Shortly after Aly had woken up, her uncle Jordan had reappeared.

  It was his lake house that they’d taken shelter in. And, frankly, Jim had been glad to see that Jordan had been gone when they’d arrived.

  The brother of Aly’s mother, Jordan was the black sheep of the family. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t earned his reputation. He’d been an alcoholic for years, if not decades, and he’d spit in the face of every opportunity he’d been given. He’d been arrested for minor and major infractions more times than one could count.

  How Jordan had even supported himself had always been a mystery to Jim.

  Right when the Carpenters had been defeated, when Aly was recovering, when it seemed like the lake house was enjoying a period of relative calm, Jordan had shown up, looking like he’d been through hell.

  Jordan was emaciated, looking like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. His hair was longer than Jim remembered, and filthy. He wore a patch beard on his dirty face, and his unpleasant stench filled up the room.

  “What the hell did you do to my house?” said Jordan, his lips twisting up viciously.

  “Let’s take a step outside,” said Jim, gripping Jordan’s upper arm firmly. “Just you and me. We’ll discuss this. Aly’s weak. She’s still recovering.”

  Jordan gave him a stiff nod. Maybe he realized he didn’t have much choice in the matter.

  Jim caught Aly’s concerned look as he led Jordan out of the room.

  When they were finally outside, out of earshot of everyone else, Jim said, “Where have you been, Jordan? We thought you were dead.”

  “Is that why you’ve taken over my house? And thrown everything out?”

  Jim just stared at Jordan for a moment, studying his face. There were scratches on his cheek, and what looked like the remnants of a black eye. Had he been in a fight? What had he been doing since he’d disappeared?

  “We threw out the trash,” said Jim. “You didn’t exactly keep a clean house. There were empty bottles everywhere, and fast food wrappers. We practically couldn’t move. It was disgusting.”

  “You’re not answering my question. What the hell are you all doing here?”

  “What everyone else is doing, trying to survive.”

  “Trying to survive? Don’t give me that line. That’s what I’ve been doing all my life.”

  Something wasn’t adding up. The conversation was strange. But then again, it nearly always was with Jordan.

  “We had nowhere else to go. Rochester was becoming dangerous. Fast. We didn’t think you’d mind your niece and husband staying with you, considering the circumstances.”

  “You could have called first. Set something up. Isn’t that the way things are normally done? Even these days.”

  Suddenly, it was if a light dawned on Jim.

  “Don’t you know about the EMP?” said Jim.

  “The what?”

  “The electromagnetic pulse. It knocked out all electronics. Everything’s down. Society’s falling. And fast. You don’t know, do you? Where have you been?”

  Jordan stared at him with a blank expression on his face. “I’ve been getting sober.”

  Jim looked Jordan up and down. “You don’t look sober.”

  Jordan held out his hand, flat, with the palm down. “Look. It’s not shaking. And I haven’t had a drink in three months.”

  “Where were you? You don’t look like you’ve been in rehab.”

  “Rehab? That doesn’t work. None of that stuff works for me. I did it my own way. Living rough in the woods.”

  “You’re telling me you’ve been living rough in the woods by yourself while trying to kick drinking? For several months? And you’re just coming back to society now, and have no idea what an EMP is or what’s happened?”

  Jim wasn’t exactly buying it. It was too far-fetched. But then again, Jordan really didn’t seem to know what was going on.

  But did Jordan ever really know what was going on? He was an exceptionally odd guy and always had been.

  “Hey there!”

  Jim spun his h
ead and reached for his revolver.

  Someone was shouting at them, from somewhere down by the road.

  Jim and Jordan were standing only partially out of view from the road, next to a large pine tree.

  “Get down,” hissed Jim, as he crouched down.

  “Get down? What the hell are you talking about?”

  Jim’s eyes scanned the area, looking for who had shouted.

  “Hey! I see you two over there. Come on, I’m not going to bite.”

  Jim finally located the source of the voice. The man was standing on the other side of the road. He was far away, but Jim could make out his clothes.

  He wore a police uniform. Pants, shirt, and everything. He even had one of those wide-brimmed hats that highway patrolmen sometimes wore.

  Jim’s mind immediately jumped to the cops that he’d been forced to run away from. And to the memory of breaking Aly out of a jail cell in Pittsford.

  “What the hell are you doing down there?” said Jordan loudly. “Stand up like a man. You’re scared of a cop? I thought you were on the up-and-up. And what’s all this about society falling apart?”

  “I’ll have to explain it to you later,” hissed Jim.

  The cop didn’t stop waving, and now he was walking towards them. He took long strides, closing in on them fast.

  Jim stayed in the crouching position, with both legs bent. He held his revolver steady and pointed right at the oncoming cop.

  2

  Jordan

  The story Jordan had told Jim wasn’t entirely true. Well, “not entirely” might even be a stretch.

  The part about being away for a long time was true enough. But Jim had already known that.

  The rest, well, that was more or less a complete fabrication.

  Jordan had actually sobered up quite a bit. But that had purely been by accident.

  He’d been having trouble making ends meet for years now. He’d lost one job after the other. And the ones that he had managed to keep, where the boss would tolerate his drinking, well, he had always ended up realizing that he didn’t like working that much. The pay was too low for the effort, he thought.