Surviving: The Complete Series [Books 1-3]

by Westfield, Ryan

And, sure, he was stronger and bigger now. But he was also severely underfed. And exhausted. He hadn’t been sleeping much. His body wasn’t adjusting well to the severe lack of calories, and the stress of it kept him up awake on the rare occasions that he was supposed to be sleeping, and not on watch. He was shedding weight fast, and it wasn’t just fat. He was losing a lot of muscle, as people do when they under-eat.

  Jim’s feet were wet now. He was wading into the lake.

  Now he was waist deep.

  There was no point in putting it off any longer.

  He launched himself forward. Moments later, he was swimming, his arms pumping and his feet kicking.

  The water was cold.

  It felt strange to swim in his pants. They produced a lot of drag. Maybe he should have taken them off.

  Jim swam, and swam some more.

  It seemed like there was an endless expanse of water in front of him.

  He had a long way to go.

  And a fight after that. If he was lucky.

  A lot was at stake.

  10

  Rob

  Rob had somehow dragged himself back into the lake house. He was covered in blood and brains, and bits of skull stuck to his hand and on his sleeve.

  “Looks like you need a drink,” said Aly’s uncle, who seemed to tower over him.

  But Jordan made no move to get Rob a drink.

  And Rob didn’t want one.

  He wanted to curl up and disappear.

  Rob was sitting cross-legged on the floor.

  He felt like a little kid. Lost and confused. And like he’d failed.

  He didn’t feel like a man.

  “I shouldn’t have let him get away,” said Rob.

  “Nope,” said Jordan, shaking his head in a pompous way. “You shouldn’t have.”

  “We’re screwed,” said Rob. “We’re completely screwed. What are we going to do?”

  “Hell if I know,” said Jordan. “You’re the ones with the plan.”

  Jessica was outside, on watch, probably circling the house.

  “Jim’ll get it all back,” said someone.

  Rob looked up.

  It was Aly who’d spoken. She was standing in the doorway.

  “Standing” might have been an exaggeration. It was more like she was propping herself up, barely holding onto the frame.

  “You shouldn’t be out of bed,” said Jordan, eyeing her. But he made no move to help her.

  “I’m fine,” said Aly. But she was breathing heavily from the effort of getting herself out of bed.

  Even in his distraught state, Rob popped up and rushed over to her. He got her arm around him for support, and he put his arm around her. Together, they walked slowly to the couch and he slowly lowered her onto it.

  “You need a pillow or something?” said Rob, looking down at her.

  “I’m fine, Rob. But you know what you could do for me?”

  “What?”

  “Clean up. You’re disgusting.”

  Rob looked down at himself. He saw the blood. He saw the bits of bone.

  He let out a nervous laugh.

  “All right,” he muttered. “But you really shouldn’t have gotten out of bed.”

  Rob made his way to the kitchen, where there was a bucket of “gray” water. It was water that had already been used for some purpose or another, usually cleaning related. He figured he didn’t need, or deserve, the pristine stuff. No point in wasting it on himself. Not now.

  By the time he was cleaner, he felt a little better.

  He made his way back into the living room, and he was still mentally beating himself up, still feeling down.

  But Aly started talking, and soon enough he was feeling better.

  She told him how he’d done a great job with the guy who was threatening them. She told him how Jim would certainly get their stuff back, and how everything was going to work out OK.

  Rob didn’t believe all of it. But he believed enough of it.

  After all, maybe there was a chance that Jim would get the stuff back. He was a strong swimmer, after all. And he knew how to shoot.

  “He’ll never catch him,” said Jordan, speaking in a snarl out of the corner of his mouth.

  “You don’t know that,” said Aly.

  “From what Rob said, the cop has a boat. And Jim doesn’t have a boat. How’s he going to catch him?”

  “He’ll swim. And then he’ll catch him on land.”

  “But the other guy’s a cop.”

  “So what?”

  “He knows what to do. He understands things.”

  “Then why’d he steal our stuff?”

  “Beats me,” muttered Jordan. “Maybe he saw that it wasn’t worth hanging around. Frankly, if all of you had done a better job with this place, maybe he’d have stayed and we’d have some real protection around here.”

  “How can you say that?” said Aly, starting to sound really angry.

  “It’s pretty easy,” said Jordan. “Because it’s the truth. And watch your tone with me. I’m letting you stay here. Don’t you forget that.”

  “There’s nothing to forget,” said Rob, taking a step forward towards Jordan.

  Jordan took a step back.

  Rob took another step forward.

  Rob was huge compared to Jordan, who was tall enough, but too thin. It was like he was wasting away.

  “You going to fight me or something?” said Jordan. “That’s no way for a guest to treat their host, is it now?”

  “The way I see it,” said Rob, speaking slowly and deliberately, despite his anger. “The only reason you’re going to survive is because of us. If we hadn’t been here, the house would have been overrun by the neighbors. They would have stolen everything useful, which wasn’t much. Because pretty much all you had in here was old empty bottles and food wrappers.”

  “You’re missing the point,” said Jordan. But he said it weakly, as if he wasn’t so sure that he was getting the point.

  “No,” said Rob. “You’re missing the point. We’re not guests here. You’re the guest here. Because you haven’t done anything useful yet. All you’ve done is complain about us. Well, I don’t care whose name is on the deed to the house, because it doesn’t make any difference now. The world’s changed, and there are no more deeds. The fact that you own this property means nothing. We’re the ones who possess it, take care of it, and defend it. We’re the ones who think about the supplies, about…”

  “Rob…” said Aly, weakly, from the couch, as if she was trying to get him to settle down.

  “Let me finish, Aly,” said Rob. “This is important.” Rob took another step forward.

  Jordan tried to take another step back, but his heel hit the wall. He glanced behind him and to the side, as if looking for an exit. He was clearly intimidated by Rob’s big size. And he was clearly trying to pretend like he wasn’t.

  “Here’s the thing,” said Rob. “You need an attitude adjustment. You’re either going to have to start helping out, or you’ve got to go. I don’t care if you’re Aly’s uncle or you ‘own’ the house. I just don’t care.”

  Rob leaned forward towards Jordan as he spoke.

  It was a strange feeling, speaking those words. Because back before the EMP, he’d always been the one getting lectures from his bosses on “attitude adjustments.” It had always seemed like garbage to him, mostly because he knew that the work he was doing was meaningless at best.

  But now it all had meaning.

  The meaning was to survive.

  They had to survive.

  And to survive, they all had to work together.

  The room was heavy with silence.

  Rob finally took a step back.

  “Damn, man,” muttered Jordan, as he scurried out of the way, finally free from being cornered against the wall.

  “Do you hear that?” said Aly.

  “Hear what?”

  “Just shut up and listen for a second.”

  Rob did as he was told
. He knew enough to take Aly seriously.

  She must have had better hearing than he did because he didn’t hear it for about twenty more seconds.

  Then he heard it.

  Rumbling, throaty engines.

  More than one.

  Probably a few.

  It sounded like motorcycles.

  Soon enough, he could hear the sound of fat tires crunching on the gravel.

  The three of them exchanged looks.

  “This isn’t good,” said Aly.

  Rob looked at Jordan. “This is your chance. What’s it going to be?”

  “What’s it going to be? What are you talking about?”

  “Are you going to help? Or are you going to cower in the house and complain about us later.”

  Jordan cast his eyes down to the floor. He looked ashamed. Good. Maybe he was finally getting it. Maybe he was finally understanding.

  “Get me a gun,” he said.

  A few seconds later, there was a gun in his hands.

  “You know how to use it?” said Rob.

  “More or less. Point it and pull the trigger.”

  “That’ll have to do for now.”

  The engines outside continued to rumble. The motorcycles must have been parked a little ways down the driveway, judging just from the sound.

  “Come on,” said Rob. “There’s no time to lose.”

  His thoughts turned to Jessica.

  He was already at the door, with Jordan at his heels, when Aly called out something after them.

  But he didn’t hear it, and there was no time to waste, so he threw the door open and rushed outside.

  Rob knew he was going in hot. He knew he was just rushing in. He knew that maybe he should have tried to be subtle, try to observe them first, see what he was dealing with.

  But his mind was on Jessica.

  She was out there.

  Somewhere.

  He hadn’t heard any gunshots yet. That was good.

  When his feet hit the gravel driveway, he saw what was going on.

  Way down towards the road, there were three motorcycles. Big ones. Black and chrome, with high handlebars and big exhaust pipes. Old-school styling all around.

  But his attention didn’t settle on the motorcycles themselves.

  There were three riders. As expected.

  One was on his bike.

  The other two, big hairy men who wore black leather vests with patches, were a little ways off the driveway.

  There was someone with them.

  Someone moving.

  Someone struggling.

  Jessica.

  It was Jessica.

  He saw her hair seemingly hanging in the wind, in complete disorder. It had come loose from whatever she normally did with it.

  It all seemed to be happening in slow motion.

  Rob was running towards them, but he was too slow.

  Jordan was somewhere behind him.

  The only thing Rob could hear was his own heavy breathing and the thud of his feet on the ground. His breathing was so heavy it had become like a dull roar that seemed to drown out the rest of the world. It was as if everything else was silent. As if he was watching a movie.

  One of the big hairy motorcycle men was swinging something.

  His arm was moving in a high arc. Something was in his hand.

  Jessica’s head snapped to the side as the object in his hand collided with her. Her hair swung around.

  The two men grabbed her. She was kicking her legs wildly.

  Rob was never going to make it. He was too far away. And he was too big. He couldn’t run that fast.

  But he was going to try.

  He was still too far away to get off a good shot. If he tried, he’d probably hit Jessica instead of the men.

  He wasn’t going to let them kill Jessica.

  One of the men produced a handgun. But he didn’t seem to be paying attention to Rob and Jordan. He swung the handgun at Jessica. It struck her in the head. Her body fell limp. She stopped kicking.

  Now, the man turned towards Rob.

  He leveled the gun at Rob, his arm straight. It looked like he knew what he was doing.

  Rob threw himself to the ground as the sound of the gunshot cut through the roar of his own breathing.

  Gravel dust kicked up as his body slammed belly-down on the driveway. He got his arms stretched out in front of him, his gun in both hands, ready to return fire.

  The bullet missed him.

  Another shot rang out.

  There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t see because of the dust. The best he could do was hope that he didn’t get hit.

  He felt useless. Hopeless. But the adrenaline and the intensity of the situation kept him going. Kept his heart pumping.

  But by the time the dust had settled, Rob still wasn’t hit, but the men were back on the motorcycles.

  Somehow, they’d gotten Jessica’s limp body onto one of the bikes. He didn’t know how they were holding her on there. Maybe they’d strapped her down, right behind the rider where a second passenger might ride.

  Jessica’s head hung limply to the side, her hair hanging down loose, almost dragging on the gravel.

  The motorcycle engines were rumbling and roaring and revving, spitting noise into the air.

  The motorcycles were moving, the fat tires starting to roll.

  Rob got himself up as fast as he could. He had his gun trained on them. But he couldn’t take the shot. His finger was on the trigger. He was itching to pull it. But he knew it’d be the worst thing he could do. There was no way to ensure that he didn’t shoot Jessica in the process.

  So he watched hopelessly as the motorcycles pulled out of the driveway.

  Someone rushed past him from behind. It was Jordan, who he’d completely forgotten about.

  Jordan stopped a few paces in front of Rob. He spread his legs out wide, taking a stance. He held his gun in front of him.

  Jordan was going to try to save the day. He was going to try to take the shot.

  But there was no way he was going to make it.

  Rob had to stop him.

  This wasn’t the time for words.

  Rob rushed forward, and he did what he was good at.

  He collided with Jordan, tackling him to the ground.

  They fell together, Rob’s heavy body pushing Jordan’s body towards the ground rapidly.

  The dust came up again.

  The air was knocked from Rob’s lungs.

  His body hurt all over.

  “Jordan?” he said, as he pushed himself up and off of Jordan’s body.

  “What the hell did you do that for?” snarled Jordan, still on the ground.

  “You were going to miss. You were going to hit Jessica. That’s why I didn’t shoot.”

  Jordan just snarled at him.

  Shit.

  What was Rob going to do?

  The motorcycles were long gone. He could just barely hear their rumbling engines down the road.

  “What are we going to do?” said Rob, his mood sinking. He reached down and gave Jordan a hand to help him up off the ground.

  “What are we going to do? Are you dense or something?”

  “What?”

  Jordan held his arm out, his finger outstretched and pointing to the Subaru.

  Rob spun around quickly, facing the Subaru wagon that he’d forgotten about.

  There wasn’t any time to feel like an idiot.

  “You’re staying here,” he shouted at Jordan, as he started running towards the house. He needed to get the keys, which hopefully were still hanging on a peg in the kitchen.

  Jordan shouted something back, but Rob didn’t hear him.

  “What happened?” said Aly frantically, as Rob threw open the door and raced through the house.

  The keys were on the peg, hanging there just as he’d expected.

  Rob grabbed them and raced back through the house, past Aly, without answering her.

  He was already l
osing time. Every second he wasted, Jessica was being taken farther and farther away.

  And it wasn’t like there’d be any way to track her once she was gone.

  There were no police to call. There was no one to investigate.

  Before the EMP, if someone was kidnapped, the proper government agencies got involved. They’d send out a network of advertisements, announcements, notifications, and surveillance. The toll gates on the highway captured license plates, and CCTV camera recorded faces and car makes and models. Credit and debit cards were tracked. It was hard for anyone to get away with anything.

  But that was now all ancient history.

  All those systems were gone.

  The motorcycle guys could take her as far as their tanks of gas lasted. And as far as Rob knew, motorcycles got much better gas mileage than cars. Or station wagons for that matter.

  The motorcycles could simply outdrive the Subaru in terms of distance.

  And on top of them, if you added up all the different turns and corners, the possible routes were almost limitless.

  He had to catch up to them.

  Fast.

  Rob threw himself into the Subaru’s driver seat. The wagon shook with his weight, the suspension sinking down and rocking.

  “You’ve got to take me with you,” shouted Jordan, rushing around to the passenger side door.

  Rob turned the key. The engine rumbled to life.

  At the same time, Rob hit the automatic lock button.

  Jordan grabbed the handle of the passenger door, but he couldn’t get the door open.

  Jordan started banging on the window. “You said I needed to decide,” he yelled. “And I’m deciding to help! Let me in. You can’t do this on your own.”

  Rob threw the Subaru into reverse.

  He wasn’t used to driving stick, and it took him a couple moments to get it into gear.

  He slammed the accelerator to the floor, and let out the clutch more jerkily than he’d intended.

  The small engine whined and the Subaru leaped backwards with a jerk.

  Jordan needed to stay with his niece, Aly, who couldn’t protect herself.

  There wasn’t time to tell Jordan that. He’d have to figure it out for himself.

  Rob was turned half around, struggling with his big frame and the back of the seat, facing the end of the driveway, and the Subaru’s engine was whining loudly as the tires kicked up dust from the gravel.