Surviving: The Complete Series [Books 1-3]

by Westfield, Ryan

  He waved his hand. A big wave. Trying to make it look as friendly as he could.

  He didn’t want to catch them off guard.

  Everyone stopped what they were doing.

  Jim held both hands up in the air, trying to show that he wasn’t holding a weapon. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  It took them a long moment to respond. All of the men and women seemed to look to one man who was taller than the rest, as if he was the leader. He had short, close-cropped hair on the sides, and was bald on top. He was clean-shaven, wore flip-flops and a polo shirt along with khaki shorts. He looked like he might have worked at a bank or a credit union, or even in one of the financial institutions on Wall Street.

  The tall man stepped away from the grill that he was setting up and beckoned Jim to come over with a wave of his hand.

  “What can I do for you?” said the man.

  The others parted as Jim approached. They stood around the tall man and Jim in a semi-circle.

  It seemed like a strange question, given the circumstances.

  “I saw your RVs approaching from my house,” said Jim. “And since it seemed like you were setting up camp, I just thought I’d come by and see…”

  “And see what our intentions were?” said the man, with a slight frown.

  “Basically,” said Jim. “Don’t take it the wrong way. But you never know who’s going to be peaceful and who isn’t.”

  The man nodded, as if he was deep in thought. “Well,” he said. “What can I say? We’re in the same boat as everyone else.”

  “Were you on vacation when it happened?” said Jim.

  “Yeah, a summer thing for folks with RVs.”

  “Where were you?”

  “Up in Canada.”

  “And what’s happening up there? We haven’t had any news of the outside world at all.”

  “It’s the same everywhere, from what we’ve seen. We kept away from the cities. But there are people everywhere, stragglers, wandering the roads. People in distress. People in bad shape. All sorts of injuries. Starvation.”

  “Any sign of the police? Of the National Guard? Or whatever Canada’s equivalent is?”

  The man shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “Nothing.”

  “And what’s your plan?” said Jim.

  “Well, basically to stay here. We can fish here and it’s relatively peaceful. I’m assuming that’s why you chose this spot as well.”

  “Well, that and we already had a house here.”

  “I figure there’s plenty of fish for all of us,” said the man.

  “Yeah,” said Jim. “It’s a big lake. The thing I’m worried about is others coming. People who are less friendly. Did you run into anyone like that?”

  “Well, we’ve been driving around the country for years. We know the area well, and we stayed out of the trouble spots. But we heard rumors.”

  “Rumors of what?”

  “Gangs, basically. Criminal organizations taking hold. Controlling the remaining resources.”

  Jim nodded. “The cities are going to be a disaster.”

  “It’s not just the cities. It’s all over. They’re spreading out.”

  “Hey,” said Jim, switching tracks. “I guess you managed to get fuel for your RVs?”

  The man nodded. “My friend over there is a very clever engineer. Worked for a top firm in Canada. He rigged up a hand-crank pump that could get the fuel up from the tanks in the ground. But…”

  “But what?”

  “It was getting too dangerous.”

  “Too dangerous just being out there, on the road?”

  “Well, that, and the gas stations were getting dangerous. Plenty of people hanging around, either trying to loot the stores or just trying to rob and kill those who came by looking for gas.”

  “So there are plenty of vehicles still working on the road?”

  “Enough,” said the man. “I’d guess about ten percent.”

  Jim nodded.

  Things were looking good, as far as Jim was concerned. This man seemed reasonable, and he didn’t seem prone to violence. It seemed like he had a good head on his shoulders. For now, he was a source of good information about the outside world. Maybe later, they could team up and work together to survive.

  “I’m Jim, by the way,” said Jim.

  “Liam.”

  They shook hands.

  “So,” said Liam, his tone of voice changing. “Are you here with anyone?”

  Jim didn’t know what to make of the question. Had the man spotted Jessica?

  Liam seemed to sense his confusion, starting to speak again, to explain further. “I just mean—are you married?”

  “Uh,” said Jim. “Yeah.” It seemed like a strange question. “Why are you asking?”

  “Well, what I didn’t mention before is that the reason we meet up every summer in Canada is that we’re all members of a special organization.”

  “A special organization?”

  “Yeah, I won’t bore you with the name. It’s just an acronym for a long-complicated term. But what it boils down to is that we’re all swingers. And we meet up in the summer to swap partners in the wilderness, away from prying eyes.”

  “Uh, OK,” said Jim. “I mean, good to know, I guess.”

  Swinging wasn’t something Jim was into. It seemed a little strange. But as far as he was concerned, it wasn’t really any of his business how these people managed their love lives.

  Jim found himself looking around at all the people who were gathered around himself and Liam. He hadn’t noticed before, but they were an equal number of men and women. The men, for the most part, had their arms possessively draped over the women who were presumably their partners.

  They were all attractive individuals, athletically built.

  “You see,” said Liam. “I’m a professor. Or I was, I suppose that’s all over with now. And my partner and I don’t get to practice our… hobby… as much as we’d like to during the school year. So every summer we like to let loose and go a little crazy, if you know what I mean...”

  “That’s great,” said Jim, cutting him short. “But what does this have to do with me?”

  “Oh,” said Liam, attempting to sound like he was making an off-hand comment. “I just thought now that society has collapsed, or is collapsing, or whatever, someone like you might want to join in the fun. You and your wife, I mean.”

  “No thanks,” said Jim.

  Liam wasn’t paying attention, however. He was looking behind Jim at something else.

  Jim turned around to see what it was.

  It was Jessica, strolling towards them.

  Jim wasn’t in the habit of looking at other women. His wife, in his eyes, was the most attractive woman he’d ever seen. And he didn’t buy into the axiom of “looking never hurt anyone.”

  But from an objective standpoint, Jessica was an extremely attractive young woman. With the extreme food rationing, she’d slimmed down even more, but still managed to retain her curves.

  Her hips were wide and her whole body seemed athletic and purposeful.

  “Is this your wife?” said Liam, his voice low and strange sounding. The sound of it alone gave Jim the creeps.

  Jim didn’t like the vibes he was getting from Liam.

  “No.”

  All the men and women surrounding Jim and Liam had turned their attention to Jessica.

  “Everything OK?” said Jessica, her rifle in her hands. She came up and stood next to Jim.

  “I think so,” said Jim.

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” said Liam, reaching out his hand. “I was just inviting your friend here to participate in one of our parties.”

  “Parties?” said Jessica, looking at Liam’s hand with a confused look on her face. Eventually, she extended her own hand.

  Instead of shaking it, Liam took her hand in both of his, and bent down and kissed it gently.

  “Watch it,” said Jessica, pulling her hand away.
<
br />   “I was just telling your friend Jim here that with the world ending and everything, we’re just looking to have some fun. Worship the bacchanalians while Rome burns in the background.”

  Jessica shot Jim a confused look.

  “We’ve got to be going,” said Jim.

  “Not just yet,” said Liam, taking a couple steps forward so that he stood close to Jessica.

  He reached out and put his hand on her thigh, just resting it there awkwardly.

  But his hand was only there for mere seconds before Jessica grabbed his wrist. She pushed it off of her leg roughly.

  And she didn’t stop there.

  Her hand formed into a tight fist, she swung her arm out hard and fast. Her fist collided with Liam’s face.

  He stumbled back, but didn’t fall.

  “Well, well, you’re a sassy one,” he said, as he fished into his pocket for a handkerchief that he held against his mouth.

  Blood appeared on his lip.

  Jessica was standing there, her hand inching towards her Glock’s holster. There was fire in her eyes and an intense expression on her face.

  The door to the one of the RVs swung open.

  A buxom woman stepped out. “Liam!” she said. “What’s happened?”

  “Just a little misunderstanding,” said Liam, laughing. “I forgot to introduce you to my partner, Julia.”

  “We’ll have to save the introductions for another time,” said Jim. “We’re leaving.”

  “Have it your way,” said Liam, his lip starting to swell up, affecting his voice. “But I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other soon enough.”

  Jim grabbed Jessica’s hand and pulled her away. He was worried she was going to start a fight.

  They walked swiftly away, and Jim kept turning back to make sure that Liam and the others weren’t following them.

  “What the hell was that all about?” said Jessica. “Who is that creep?”

  “Some guy named Liam.”

  “I got that much,” said Jessica.

  “He was a professor somewhere. They’re swingers.”

  “Swingers?”

  “Yeah, you know… they swap partners.”

  “Gross,” said Jessica.

  “Whatever floats his boat,” said Jim. “But my worry is that he’s going to get us all involved. He seems intent on enjoying the apocalypse, rather than trying to survive it.”

  “Well, I’m not interested.”

  “I gathered that much. But now we’re going to have to keep an eye out for them. I don’t like having these creeps here on the lake with us.”

  “Are they following us?”

  Jim glanced back around again. “Doesn’t seem like it,” he said. “But they do outnumber us quite a bit. If they decide to attack…”

  “I didn’t see any weapons.”

  “Doesn’t mean they don’t have any. They managed to survive on the road down from Canada. That means they’ve got something up their sleeves that they didn’t want to show us.”

  7

  Rob

  “Step away from the door,” called out Rob.

  He put his eye to the peephole. The muscular man he’d seen in the driveway stepped back away from the door. He put his hands in the air.

  But he obviously wasn’t going away.

  Rob had to deal with this.

  He was nervous. His hand was sweating, and he tightened his grip on his handgun. He didn’t want it to slip.

  He wiped sweat away from his brow.

  It was an unusually warm day by upstate New York standards.

  Rob threw the door open and stepped back. “Stay where you are,” he said in a loud voice, practically shouting.

  The man grinned at him. A weird reaction, considering the situation.

  Rob noticed for the first time that the man had tattoos running up his neck. He wore a simple t-shirt and jeans.

  “What do you want?” said Rob.

  “I’m a messenger.”

  “A messenger? What the hell are you talking about?”

  The man just grinned at him.

  Rob pointed the gun at the man’s chest. It was a clear message. He wanted to show that he meant business.

  “Let’s try this again,” said Rob. “Tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you right now.”

  “Because I’m part of something bigger,” said the man. “I’m just one head of the hydra. Just one part of the beast. Cut off one head and the rest comes back, stronger than you could ever imagine.”

  “Speak to me straight,” said Rob.

  “I am. What more do you want?”

  “I want answers. You’re just giving me questions.”

  “There’s a new tide coming. A new wave. A new ocean, even. A new law and order. A new resurgence. Everything will change. Nothing will be the same. The world will be fire and nothing more. And it will all be under our control.”

  Rob had had enough of this nonsense.

  “You’re in a gang, is that it? Is this your idiotic credo or something?”

  The man looked Rob in the eye, pointedly spat on the ground.

  A split second later, the man had turned around and was sprinting in the other direction.

  He’d gotten on Rob’s nerves. And he’d given what seemed like a threat. Maybe not an explicit threat. But a threat nonetheless.

  Rob wasn’t having it.

  He started running after the guy. His feet were slamming into the ground. His arms were pumping.

  But the guy was already putting considerable distance between them. And it had been mere seconds.

  Rob was already out of breath. He still had a lot of extra weight.

  His muscles were already burning.

  He was in better shape since the EMP than he had been in years. But not in good enough shape.

  There was no way Rob was going to catch up to him.

  But he couldn’t let him get away.

  What if that guy came back with his gang?

  For the first time in his life, Rob actually felt responsible for something. He was responsible for the lives of Jim, Aly, and Jessica.

  He was doing his best to live up to his new responsibilities.

  Back before the EMP, he was always losing jobs because he shirked his responsibilities. But that was because the responsibilities weren’t real. They were just things that some boss told him to do. They were just things that he had to do to make someone other than himself some money. All he got out of it was a few measly dollars that he usually had to spend on beers after work just in order to relax.

  Now, the responsibilities were real. Lives were on the line.

  He felt like a new man.

  And this new man wasn’t going to let this guy get away.

  Now he had resolve. He’d never had that before.

  Rob stopped dead in his tracks.

  He planted his feet.

  He brought his arms up. Straight out in front of him. Both hands on his handgun.

  He took careful aim.

  He took a shallow breath, holding it in as he squeezed the trigger.

  The shot was a good one. Excellent, really.

  The bullet struck the running man in the leg. Back of his thigh.

  He screamed, lost his balance as he tried to keep running forward. His limbs went flailing, all lost together in a jumble.

  The man hit the ground hard, his arms folding under him and failing to protect his face from the gravel driveway.

  Rob was over there in a flash. He pushed his knees into the small of the man’s back, putting all his significant weight onto him.

  Rob didn’t waste his breath on talking. First, he frisked the man, going for his pockets, ankles, and under the shirt, in case there was a holster.

  Rob found a knife in a pocket. A cheap gas-station flipper, with flimsy-looking steel and a weird handle that’d been molded in China out of the cheapest materials.

  In the other pocket, Rob found a gun.

  “You should have pulled this on me,
” growled Rob, pocketing the gun after checking to make sure that the safety was on.

  The man grunted something.

  “What’s that?” said Rob. “I can’t hear you.”

  Rob got up for a second, grabbed the man’s shoulders roughly and flipped him over so that he lay on his back. Rob got back down, pressing his knees into the man’s stomach and chest.

  “Now you’re going to tell me exactly what you meant by those threats,” growled Rob.

  The man tried to speak, but Rob’s weight was too much for him.

  Rob let up a little, adjusting his knees so that the man could speak.

  “I’m not telling you anything.”

  “You’d better,” said Rob. “Because it doesn’t make any difference to me whether or not I shoot you dead.”

  Rob pushed the muzzle of his gun into the man’s temple. Hard.

  Rob wasn’t really that much of a tough guy. But he knew that his size and shape were intimidating enough. He knew that if he acted a certain way, people would think he was

  Or at least he hoped.

  But it didn’t seem to have any effect on this guy who was on the ground and bleeding from his thigh that had a bullet lodged in it.

  “I’m not telling you anything.”

  And with that, the man moved his hand rapidly. From somewhere, he produced a long knife. A fixed blade.

  The knife’s steel glinted in the limited sun.

  Rob thought he’d checked everywhere. But apparently not.

  The knife swung up at him.

  Rob swung his arm, trying to deflect the blow by striking the man’s arm below the hand that held the knife.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  The blade caught against Rob’s arm. It was sharp, and dug into the skin.

  Rob had brute force. He had size. But he lacked hand-to-hand combat skills. If he tried to deflect the knife another time, he might get stabbed. And die.

  He had no choice.

  He pulled the trigger before anything else could happen.

  The gun kicked.

  His ears rang with the sound of the shot.

  Blood erupted.

  Part of the man’s skull exploded inwards.

  The man’s body fell still. His arm fell heavily to the ground. He wouldn’t move again.

  Rob looked down at his hand. It was covered in some kind of bloody discharge.