CME Apocalypse Fiction

by Blaze Eastwood

  Chapter Nine

  After a long moment, Cole snapped out of it and regained consciousness. When he looked up, the rifleman was staring at him with a wide smile on his face. He now realized that the chair had been knocked over.

  “It looks like I hit you a little too hard. Next time, I'll try to hit you with my fist. Hopefully, you won't pass out again.”

  Cole and the rifleman were only a meter away from each other.

  Is he going to notice that my left wrist is practically free?

  The rifleman glanced at Cole's hands, briefly looked away, and then glanced at his hands again. It made Cole uneasy.

  Does he know?

  Gunshots continued to erupt throughout the neighborhood, and many of them sounded like they were very close by.

  The rifleman went back into the dining room and took another sip from the water bottle. “Well, I don't think we need you anymore. I can't find any safes in the house that require combinations to open. Unless you have any upstairs that I should know about.”

  Lying on his side, Cole freed his left wrist from the duct tape and rapidly untied his other wrist.

  The rifleman walked over to the staircase and shouted up the steps. “Hey!”

  “What is it?”

  “Did you guys find any safes up there?”

  “No. But we found quite a few things that will come in handy, including about a thousand forty-five caliber bullets.”

  Still tied to the chair, Cole began to drag himself toward the wall.

  “Did you find any guns?”

  “Not yet.”

  Cole knew exactly where the loaded gun was. It was in the living room, duct taped to the wall behind the computer desk—the same wall he was dragging himself toward.

  The rifleman turned around to face Cole. “Where's the gun?”

  Cole didn't answer. He kept staring back at his assailant while covertly freeing himself. His wrists were untied, but his torso was still duct taped to the chair. The gun was still too far out of reach at this point.

  “Where's the gun?!” the rifleman asked in a much louder voice. “And I'll know if you're lying, so don't even think about it.”

  “If you go to the end of the crawlspace, you'll find a sleeping bag and winter outfits,” Cole said, trying to buy himself some extra time. He slid his fingers underneath the duct tape and began loosening the grip it had on his rib cage.

  “I don't care about that. I'm asking about the gun. Where is it?”

  Cole kept his hands in his lap, so his assailant would not suspect anything was wrong. He had managed to move himself half a meter closer to the wall without the rifleman noticing.

  “Where is it?”

  “It's not even up there,” Cole said. “Tell those guys that they're wasting their time if that's what their searching the attic for.”

  “Then where is it?”

  “It's on the main floor.”

  “Where?!”

  Cole jolted himself forward and extended his arms as far in front of himself as he could reach.

  Seeing that Cole had freed his hands and arms, the rifleman raised his weapon to shoot him. But he couldn't get a clear shot, so he rapidly moved through the dining room, storming toward his problematic hostage.

  Cole got himself back into an upright position, and all four chair legs were on the ground again. From there, he used his legs to push the chair across the hardwood floor. He slid over to the computer desk and peeled the duct-taped pistol off of the wall.

  The rifleman stormed into the living room, and a moment later, three shots were fired. But the gunfire had come from Cole's forty-five caliber pistol.

  The rifleman staggered backward, then fell to the ground.

  * * * * *

  The gunfire had alerted the two assailants on the second floor.

  “He took out the homeowner?”

  “I guess so.”

  “I thought he wanted to wait.”

  * * * * *

  Still tied to the chair, Cole slid his way over to the kitchen, where he opened the drawer and drew a knife.

  Heavy footsteps were making their way down the wooden staircase.

  Cole needed to hurry. Using a sawing motion, he began frantically slicing his way through the duct tape.

  The footsteps entered the dining room, then stopped. Then the assailants exchanged words.

  Cole couldn't decipher what they were saying, but when he sensed the surprised and horrified sounds of their voices, he was nearly certain they had discovered the rifleman's corpse.

  The footsteps ran through the dining room and through the hallway. “Get him before he escapes!” one of them shouted. “He might be halfway down the block by now.”

  When the two figures emerged, Cole opened fire.

  Chapter Ten

  The knocking on the front door struck a nerve. The last time Cole heard someone knocking on his door, he ended up tied to a chair, hit in the head, and mortally threatened. He was still traumatized from the day before.

  Nevertheless, he approached the door and glanced out the window.

  It was Bryce.

  He unlocked the door and swung it open.

  “Just checking to see if your still alive,” Bryce said. “Is everything okay?”

  “Aside from the warfare yesterday? I guess.”

  “Yeah, that was pretty intense. The prisoners got out.”

  “I thought you were going to keep me posted on that,” Cole said. He looked tired and weary.

  “By the time I found out, the prisoners had already flooded the streets. They were knocking on people's doors, hoping the residents would let them in the house. They figured if they were dressed in law enforcement uniforms, people would be more likely to let them in.”

  “Did you let them in?”

  “No way. I opened fire almost as soon as I saw them. First, I fired a warning shot, but they didn't seem to care. They started firing at the house. But I had the advantage of being inside, so they lost that battle.”

  There was a pause.

  “Did any of them try to get into your house?” Bryce asked.

  “Yeah, I'd say they did.”

  “What happened?”

  “Three of them got inside, and I had to kill them.”

  Bryce was surprised. “How did they get in?”

  “I had a window open. The summer heat has been intense, and it was nice to finally have a cool breeze sweeping through the house. After I checked on a noise, my mind became kind of scrambled and I ended up leaving the front door unlocked. You know how it is when your adrenaline is high. It's difficult to think clearly.”

  “Well, it looks like they're gone for the most part,” Bryce said. “A lot of them were gunned down yesterday, and the rest of them fled. I think they're going to look for a town that won't fight back so hard.”

  “We might have to leave town, ourselves,” Cole said.

  “Why?”

  “Once people in this neighborhood run out of food, they might try to relocate to search for ponds to fish in and wilderness to hunt in.”

  “I heard there's actually a large food and water storage area in the prison,” Bryce said. “Joey said they have some kind of system in place. They are supposedly going to give rations to people who can barter with them. If you can provide any kind of service for them—whether it's cleaning their guns or repairing their broken chairs—they'll give you some food and water.”

  “I have plenty of gun oil for cleaning,” Cole said. “And I was a carpenter before the economy collapse, so I can fix wooden chairs.”

  “There you go,” Bryce said. “Perhaps depletion is only a state of mind. As long as we're willing to think of solutions, maybe we never have to worry about running out of resources.”

  Cole shrugged.

  “I'm gonna get going,” Bryce said. “It's getting late. I don't want to get caught in the pitch black dark.” He descended the steps and disappeared out of sight.

  Cole stepped onto the front porch an
d watched the sunset. The sky was changing colors and the birds were chirping cheerfully.

  Crashing Society

  An EMP Survival Thriller

  By Blaze Eastwood

  Text Copyright © 2017 Blaze Eastwood

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced

  in any form or by any means without the

  prior written permission of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  More From Blaze Eastwood

  Chapter One

  Rays of sunlight poured through the open windows of the hotel in Reno, illuminating the business room that Vaughn's boss had reserved for their meeting.

  “Any questions?” Keller asked, looking up from his open folder that contained his files and notes.

  The room fell silent, as if the boss's question had fallen on deaf ears. In reality, most of them were simply unmotivated to have perfect display cases for company products that were not their own. Keller's employees only received three percent commission for their sales, anyway, and their base salaries didn't change much, regardless of how much or how little they sold.

  “No questions?” Keller asked. “Everyone's displays are going to look perfect?”

  The room fell silent again.

  Vaughn was busily thumbing through the papers that had been handed out to him, studying the plans meticulously.

  Edgar was staring at Keller, waiting for him to say something. He glanced down at the newspaper that was on the table in front of him. The headline read: WILL YESTERDAY'S SOLAR FLARE LEAD TO CORONAL MASS EJECTION?

  “Okay,” Keller said reluctantly. “You're dismissed.”

  * * * * *

  Since Vaughn and Edgar were the last ones to leave the room, most of the people from their company had already left the building, which made the lines at the elevators relatively small.

  “You work too hard, Vaughn. You're always the first one to arrive for these meetings, and the last one to leave. Too much work isn't good for you.”

  “I don't really feel like I have a choice,” Vaughn said, pressing the button for the elevator. “They already let three people go this month because of cutbacks. It makes me wonder if I'm gonna be next.”

  “It's not just the cutbacks that are bothering you, is it?” Edgar asked, glancing at his wristwatch.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You bought a new house recently, and last week you told me that you wanted to pay off the mortgage as soon as possible.”

  “True. I want to get it paid off in five years or less.”

  “So, I think you're putting too much pressure on yourself. You could have bought a much cheaper house if you looked hard enough.”

  “We need a house that has some extra space. You're almost always going to have to pay more if you want more space. Anna couldn't stand living in that crammed, little house that we had. She absolutely hated it, and I don't blame her. We have three kids now, and we really feel like we could use the extra room, so we bought the least expensive house in the area that we could find.”

  “Didn't you say your house is in Idaho?” Edgar asked.

  “Yeah, a small town in southern Idaho.”

  The elevator doors opened. Vaughn and Edgar patiently waited for the passengers to exit, and then they stepped inside, joining two other passengers—a young man and a woman who appeared to be in her late fifties.

  As the doors closed. Vaughn pressed the button for the ground-level floor.

  “Southern Idaho, huh? That's quite a long way from here.”

  “Close to three-hundred miles,” Vaughn said.

  “What time does your flight leave?”

  “A few minutes after seven o' clock. What about you? Did you fly in?”

  “No, I've got a house not too far from here. It's less than an hour-long drive during rush hour. It's not that bad.”

  The elevator doors opened on the fifth floor, and then the woman stepped out, dragging a suitcase on wheels with her.

  “So, you aren't going to stop for supper before you go to the airport?” Edgar asked.

  “I don't think I'm going to have enough time for that,” Vaughn said. “I'm pretty hungry, though. I've got a few granola bars packed in my suitcase. Maybe I'll just have those.”

  When the doors opened on the third floor, the young man exited the elevator.

  The doors closed, and just as the elevator began to descend, it made a grating sound before coming to an unexpected halt.

  A moment later, the lights went out, sending Vaughn and Edgar into an eerie pitch black darkness.

  “That's not good,” Edgar said in disbelief.

  In startled bewilderment, Vaughn put down his suitcase and took a step toward the wall, eagerly waiting for the elevator to start moving again.

  “Does this mean the whole building is out of power, or just the elevator?”

  “I don't know,” Vaughn readily admitted. He moved forward and placed his ear to the door. “I can't hear anyone.”

  “Anyone there?!” Edgar shouted. “We're in the elevator!”

  Vaughn was already growing restless. He scolded himself for not taking the stairs. He almost always took the stairs in large buildings, just so he could get a quick workout. But the meeting had almost put him to sleep, leaving him excessively tired and unmotivated to exercise.

  “I'll call the front desk,” Edgar said, reaching into his pocket to extract his cellphone. “Maybe they can send someone to . . .” he trailed off after looking at the blank screen on his phone. “My phone's not working.”

  “Is it dead?”

  “No, it can't be,” Edgar insisted. “I just charged it this morning, and I only used it for a few minutes this afternoon.”

  “Let me see if mine is working,” Vaughn said, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He looked at the blank screen and pressed a few buttons.

  “Well?” Edgar asked impatiently. “Is it working?”

  “Nope.”

  “Wait, I think I hear something.”

  Both men quietly stood still and tried to listen for sounds that might indicate that someone was nearby to help them.

  The silence in the isolated darkness added to the eeriness of being held captive in the tortuous elevator.

  “Never mind,” Edgar said. “I thought it sounded like someone was on their way over to help us.”

  “Let's see if we can pry these open,” Vaughn said, clutching the doors.

  Edgar gripped the doors as best he could and started pushing, but to no avail.

  Both men changed their stance several times, trying to gain a better grip.

  They kept at it, and before long, they successfully managed to get the doors to budge. Now that the doors were partially open, Vaughn and Edgar were able to gain a better grip, and they pushed them the rest of the way open with ease.

  “We're stuck in between floors,” Vaughn said, peering at the elevator shaft.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Not really. But I felt the elevator descend slightly before it got stuck. Didn't you?”

  “Yeah.”

  The elevator shaft was just as dark as the elevator itself, and neither one of them was interested in venturing through the vertical passageway.

  Even though it was too dark to see their surroundings, they couldn't help but feel somewhat claustrophobic.

  “Can you see anything?” Edgar asked. “Do you see a speck of light coming from anyw
here?”

  Vaughn turned around and peered at the elevator shaft again. “No.”

  * * * * *

  After several hours of dormancy in the powerless elevator, they heard a noise coming from above them.

  Vaughn, who was sitting down with his back leaning against the wall, stood up and peered into the elevator shaft.

  A beam of light jutted out from the open door of the floor above them.

  “Anyone down there?” a voice called.

  “Yeah, right here,” Vaughn answered.

  “How many people are stuck in that elevator?” the man on the next floor asked. He was wearing a utility hat.

  “Two.”

  * * * * *

  By the time Vaughn and Edgar emerged from the elevator and stepped into the corridor, it was already dark outside.

  The hallway was not much brighter, and with the exception of a hotel staff member or two walking by with a flashlight in one of their hands, it was dark.

  The hotel staff was being overwhelmed by questions, so Vaughn figured it wouldn't make sense to bother them with more questions of his own.

  “Shouldn't we go to the front desk and try to find out what's going on?” Edgar asked.

  “The staff looks busy enough,” Vaughn said. “Just look at them hurrying back and forth through the hall.”

  Edgar didn't care. He approached the first staff member that he saw and asked the man if they had any working phones they he could use to call his family.

  “Not at the moment,” the man said. “Our whole network is down, and it's not just this building. The whole town seems to be affected by the power outage. We're asking everyone to stay in their rooms until sunrise tomorrow. We don't want anyone to stumble through the corridors and injure themselves in the dark. If you need assistance getting back to your room, ask Thomas.” He pointed at a man who was holding onto a flashlight at the center of the hall. “He's going to be patrolling this floor.”