EMP (The Districts Book 1)

by Orion Enzo Gaudio

  “Get used to it,” Mike said, the tone of his voice completely matter of fact.

  Nick stood up and walked over to the open door. He walked outside and sat down on the porch. He got what Mike was saying… anyone who wanted to survive had to be tough, but Nick wasn’t sure he could kill another person if it came down to it.

  He wasn’t sure what was going to happen, and it scared him, but he felt like there was nothing he could really do about it other than try to be tough and keep the advice of Mike in the back of his mind.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sandra paced the kitchen as she waited for Nathan and Manuel. She was starting to get worried… she knew anything could have happened to them, but she felt like they should have been back already… the sun had long since gone down.

  She forced herself to sit down at the kitchen table, knowing her worry wouldn’t help them get back any sooner. Sandra stared into the flame of the candle as it flickered with each breath she took.

  A loud creak broke the silence, the sound of the front porch, and Sandra snatched up her shotgun.

  “Who’s there?”

  She immediately realized she had ruined the element of surprise if it were anyone other than Nathan and Manuel, but she had to believe it was them… and she certainly didn’t want to chance shooting them.

  “It’s us….”

  Sandra felt the air return to her lungs when she heard Nathan’s voice. She had never been so glad about something so seemingly simple in all her years. Sandra set the shotgun down next to the front door, unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open.

  “Let me get a light.”

  She retreated back to the kitchen and lit a second candle, which she carried to the front door.

  “So… did you have enough money?” she said, as the men walked in and sat down on the couch.

  Sandra sat in her chair and set the candle down on the coffee table.

  “About that….”

  “Nathan….”

  “There wasn’t anyone working, so it’s not like we could pay them.”

  She frowned. Sandra hated the idea of stealing, even if Nathan was right about how bad things had gotten out there.

  “Did you at least leave the money for when they came back?”

  “I… I don’t think they’ll be back. We weren’t the first one’s there, not by a long shot, and we probably won’t be the last.”

  Sandra wrinkled her forehead. The tone of his voice convinced her some, but she still would have preferred if he had at least left the money on the counter. She knew it was silly, she couldn’t explain why, but she felt like it would have made some kind of difference.

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  Sandra got up, leaving the two men in the living room, and went to get some water. She brought back a pitcher and three glasses. Sandra filled her own glass halfway and put the pitcher on the table along with the other two glasses.

  Nathan and Manuel took turns drinking and filling their glasses. Sandra didn’t say anything, she could tell what she had said upset Nathan… but she still didn’t feel like she needed to apologize for speaking her mind.

  “Sorry,” Nathan said, finally breaking the silence.

  Sandra turned to Nathan and just looked into his eyes. She saw the kindness in them, even though his life had been a much tougher one than hers.

  “I… no, you shouldn’t be sorry. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to really trust another person… and I believe you when you say you did what needed to be done.”

  “Thank you.”

  She smiled at them… and surprisingly felt a little better.

  “So,” she said, “what did you get?”

  Huge smiles formed on both the men’s faces. She just shook her head… Sandra had a feeling they had made off with quite a haul.

  Sandra knew the coming days, weeks, however long wasn’t going to be easy, but she was feeling so much better about it since she knew there was at least one person she could count on in her life. It made her happy… it was a feeling she had missed.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Anthony opened another candy bar and methodically ate it is just like the previous one. He had never imagined getting sick of the sweet deliciousness that was processed sugar… but after days and days of eating nothing else he was starting to tire of it.

  The fresh and frozen food in the store had gone bad quickly and they had been left only with the processed stuff. Anthony was aware it wouldn’t last them forever… he knew they would need to get some fresh food, namely meat and vegetables, at some point. It was a part of their plan he hadn’t considered before and was now kicking himself for.

  He tossed the wrapper of his candy bar on the floor and looked around. Ned and Fred were both fast asleep on inflatable beds, and Rick was sitting in a camping chair while he sharpened his knife.

  Anthony sighed out of boredom. Taking the store by force had given him a huge rush and since then it had been quiet. A handful of people showed up at the front of the store, but Fred and Ned had scared them off quickly. Anthony was starting to feel left out… he had pictured a bigger struggle for supplies and was starting to wonder what happened.

  “I gotta get out of here,” Anthony said, standing up from his chair.

  Rick looked over at him, but didn’t stop sharpening his knife. Ned and Fred both sat up and yawned, confused looks plastered on their faces.

  “Where you going, Boss?” Ned said.

  “I don’t know… I guess I need some air… I need some time to think about some stuff.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” Fred said.

  Anthony shook his head as he picked up his AR-15 off the table and checked to make sure it was still loaded. He lifted it to his shoulder and held the butt of the rifle in his hand. Anthony grabbed a bottle of water and started to walk toward the front of the store.

  Fred jumped up, pulled the keys for the front door out of his pocket and hurried after Anthony. He unlocked the door and held it open for him.

  “Be careful out there, Boss.”

  Anthony nodded without turning around. He quickly glanced around the parking lot to make sure it was empty before he started walking. Fred locked the door and watched Anthony cross the lot and didn’t retreat back into the darkness of the store until his boss was out of view.

  Anthony wasn’t sure where he was going or what he planned to do, but he was getting tired of sitting around all day. He took a drink out of his water bottle before pushing it into the back pocket of his jeans. Anthony dropped his rifle down and held the butt against his shoulder. He wasn’t expecting trouble, but he wasn’t about to let some wannabe thug get the jump on him.

  It took Anthony a good forty minutes to reach the freeway. It was about three miles by car, but he had taken his time and walked in a round-about way to avoid anyone who might be traveling along the main road. It had been quiet, he didn’t see a single person, and the only evidence the area had ever been populated was abandoned cars on the side of the road and a couple of stray dogs.

  Anthony stopped at the gas station next to the freeway and peered inside. He wasn’t expecting there to be much of anything in there, but he felt like checking anyway. The shelves of the store were for the most part empty and it looked like the place had been looted in a hurry. The door had been left open with the top glass panel shattered and there was a large brown stain on the floor that looked like oil.

  He turned and left the store, not wanting to stick around much longer. Anthony turned south and started along the road that paralleled the freeway. It wasn’t exactly a frontage road, it was away from the freeway a few hundred feet and had businesses along it. It had a curve to it suggesting it veered away from the freeway and back toward the south part of Longmont.

  Anthony had a brief memory of being on the road before, but he didn’t remember when or what for. There would still be a couple more hours of daylight for him to explore and he wasn’t in a hurry to get back to base.
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br />   There wasn’t anything of interest to Anthony along the road… it was mostly small businesses that wouldn’t have anything they could use. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find, but he was glad to be on a walk.

  Anthony saw movement out of the corner of his eye and he ducked behind an abandoned car. He waited and listened for the next few minutes and finally decided to make his move. Anthony wasn’t really in the mood to kill anyone, but he tried to mentally prepare himself for it in case they attacked him. He slowly stood up as he lifted the AR-15 to his shoulder and pointed it toward where he last saw what he thought was a person. The building across the street, the one Anthony was looking at, was the storefront of what looked to be a small plumbing business. He wrinkled his forehead as he pointed his rifle at the open front door. It was a weird place for someone to be hiding out, but that didn’t mean he was going to let his guard down.

  Anthony decided he would rather avoid any kind of confrontation. He wasn’t that curious about who could be hiding in the building, so he walked along the other side of the road with the business end of his AR-15 pointed at the door until he was a few hundred feet away.

  He paused behind another car, setting his rifle on the roof while taking a drink of water, his eyes locked on the door the whole time. Anthony shook his head as he put the water bottle back in his pocket… he wondered if maybe he hadn’t seen anything and was just being paranoid.

  Anthony picked his rifle back up and started down the road again. He glanced over his shoulder twice in the next few minutes, half expecting to see someone following him, but there was nothing there.

  The businesses faded and were replaced with a few scattered houses as Anthony kept walking. He took a deep breath and tried to relax. He told himself not to worry so much… he was capable with his rifle and doubted anyone would seriously mess with him, not to mention the whole area seemed to be deserted.

  Anthony heard a noise, the creak of wood, and he dropped to the ground. He aimed toward the house on his left, which was a hundred feet or so from the road. Anthony heard the sound again and saw what was causing it. Just behind the house was a wooden barn. It was old, maybe older than the farmhouse, and its red paint had peeled off and faded away, leaving behind a structure that looked its age.

  He kept the rifle pointed at the barn as a man emerged with a silver bucket in each hand. Anthony watched as he disappeared to the back of the house. He cocked his ear and listened… finally catching a whisper of a moo from the barn. Anthony licked his lips… fresh milk was definitely something he could go for. Anthony took a deep breath and wondered if it was worth the risk. On one hand it sounded amazing… and the guys would love him if he brought some back, but growing up in Colorado he knew farmers were usually armed. Anthony knew it wasn’t worth it and he should turn around and start heading back before the burly farmer spotted him… but he didn’t.

  Anthony stood up, raised the AR-15 to his shoulder and swung wide of the house in his approach. He quickly peeked into the windows as he made his way around back, but he didn’t see anyone inside. He knew the farmer was in there somewhere, he just hoped he could catch him off guard.

  “Freeze!”

  Anthony swung the rifle toward the window on the second floor where the command had come from. There was a loud crack as the farmer fired his shotgun through the open window. Anthony felt a pellet rip into his leg and heard the rest of them slam into the dirt next to him. He grimaced and returned fire. It took only three bullets, the first two hitting just next to the window before the third one found its mark and slammed into the chest of the farmer.

  Anthony looked down at his leg as blood soaked into the fabric of his jeans. He sighed and shook his head. The last thing he had wanted was to kill the man. It was something he knew was a possibility, but he had still hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He pressed his fingers against his leg and winced in pain. The pellet was buried in his leg and he needed to get it out.

  He hobbled up to the house and pushed the door open. Anthony collapsed onto a chair in the kitchen and slammed his rifle down on the table.

  “Jesus Christ….”

  He had never been shot before and he couldn’t believe how much it hurt. He did realize how lucky he had been… the farmer was either trying to scare him or was a terrible shot… that and he was a far enough distance away to make the man miss. Anthony knew it could have been a different story had the farmer hit him center mass with the shotgun… he probably wouldn’t have lived through it.

  Anthony winced as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down. Blood was oozing out of the single hole in the meat of his thigh and it didn’t seem to be slowing down. Anthony stood up and hobbled over to the sink. He grabbed a rag off the counter and turned on the faucet. He shook his head when no water came out… he was in enough pain that he had forgotten about the lack of electricity. Anthony pressed the rag against his leg as he walked deeper into the house. He needed to find a bathroom and hope for some peroxide and tweezers or he was going to be in rough shape for his return to base.

  The bottom floor of the house didn’t have a bathroom, which caused Anthony to curse whatever asshole built the house as he stood at the bottom of the stairs. He really didn’t want to climb them… he knew it was going to hurt like a bitch, but he had no other viable option.

  “Just my luck,” he said, shaking his head as he lifted his good leg to the first step.

  Anthony took his time climbing the stairs, only lifting his right leg to a higher step and then dragging his left leg up to meet it with the help of his arm. It was slow… and pain shot through his body.

  The sound of wood creaking filled his ears as Anthony reached the top of the stairs. He froze and listened for it… he knew it didn’t come from him. He tilted his head to the right, where he was almost certain it had come from and listened, but he didn’t hear anything. Anthony was really starting to regret leaving the base. He shook his head and tried to orient himself and figure out what room the farmer had been in when he shot him.

  A lump formed in his stomach… Anthony was pretty sure he wasn’t alone in the house. He realized it could be the farmer, but he had faith the chest shot put the man down for good. There was the possibility there was someone else in the house… and Anthony had left his rifle on the kitchen table, not wanting to climb the stairs with it.

  His best guess was the farmer had been in one of the rooms to his left, which was the opposite of where he heard the creaking floor. Anthony took a deep breath and put his weight down on his leg and he dashed down the hall. He winced in pain and fell as he reached the room at the end of the hall.

  Anthony hit the floor in the room. He raised his head and saw the farmer on the floor in front of him, dead and with a pool of blood flowing from his chest. Anthony grabbed the door and swung it closed as he rolled out of the way. He crawled toward the farmer, grabbed the shotgun and spun onto his back. Anthony aimed the shotgun at the door and waited, but it didn’t open.

  After ten minutes he finally let his guard down and chalked up the creak to it being an old house. He normally would have waited longer, but the sprint down the hall had caused his leg to start bleeding again and he wasn’t exactly enjoying being on the floor next to a dead guy. Anthony set the shotgun on the bed and pushed himself up, cringing at the pain as he finally made it upright. He felt dizzy… like he might faint, but he knew he needed to get the pellet out of his leg and get it bandaged up before it was too late.

  He picked up the shotgun, not wanting to be unarmed in the event he was wrong about the house being empty, and slowly opened the door. Anthony listened, but the house was quiet. He lifted the shotgun to his shoulder and pumped it to ready a shell. The empty casing ejected from the shotgun and bounced on the floor just as a whimper reached Anthony’s ears.

  He wasn’t alone in the house.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sutherland stepped through the door for the first time since setting foot in the bunker. He raised his hand t
o his face to shield his eyes from the sun, which seemed so much brighter than he ever remembered.

  “This way, Sir.”

  He looked over to the young man who had spoken. Sutherland nodded and followed him across the meadow at the mouth of the bunker entrance. He did have to admit, whoever had built the bunker had done a pretty good job at concealing its location. They were in the middle of a national forest and the entrance to the bunker was hidden behind a patch of old growth pine trees.

  Sutherland glanced over at Rogers, but she seemed lost in her thoughts as they walked. She had seemed to be in a much better mood since he agreed to go help district four.

  “So,” he said, “how exactly am I going to get to district four?”

  She glanced over at him before answering. He started to warm up to her after their last conversation and for the first time he actually felt like she was actively trying to find his wife and daughter.

  “Our recon team just got back from Ft. Drum. As you know, it’s home to the 10th Mountain Brigade.”

  “Yes… but how does that help?”

  “Apparently,” she said, “there is a DC-2 at the base. The 10th Aviation Brigade restored it at some point.”

  “I thought aircraft were knocked out by the EMP?”

  “They were… but apparently this plane was built in the early thirties. It should be fine.”

  “Should be fine?”

  “Yes,” she said, “it should be fine.”

  Sutherland shook his head. He didn’t like the idea of their half-cooked plan, but he didn’t see any other option… with each hour they waited, the fate of the personnel of district four became more uncertain.

  “And we have a pilot?”

  “Well… not exactly.”

  Sutherland stopped and stared at Rodgers. It took her a moment to realize he wasn’t still walking. She turned around and walked over to him.

  “We need to go,” she said, “the clock is ticking.”