“Drop it, lady,” he ordered, his voice calm and yet stern.
Alexandra could tell he meant business.
“Who the hell are you?” she asked.
“Just drop it,” he retorted.
Seizing his opportunity, Randall pulled the S&W .357 from under the blankets and aimed it at Duncan.
“Drop the gun!” Randall ordered.
“No, don’t!” Alexandra ordered back.
Afraid out of his wits, Duncan nonetheless held tightly onto the grip of the Ruger and kept it trained on Robert.
It was a Mexican standoff: Duncan had his gun aimed at Robert, Randall had his gun aimed at Duncan, and Alexandra and Justin had their guns aimed at each other. They were all in such close proximity that if they fired, it would be at point blanket range and nearly impossible to miss.
“Don’t try anything stupid, lady,” Justin growled again. “Drop the gun.”
“Come on, let’s be reasonable here,” Alexandra managed to say, her voice considerably weaker now because she could see the tables had turned on her.
Alexandra had a two handed grip on the .45, but now she let go of one hand and let it settle over the grip of the Beretta 9mm in her belt.
“We aren’t negotiating,” said Justin. “Drop it.”
Alexandra glanced between Randall, Robert, and Justin.
“You need to go, buddy,” she said. “Shut the damn door and walk off. This ain’t your business.”
“As a matter of fact, this is,” Justin countered. “Randall’s parents are my neighbors. And I can tell that you’re not a friend of theirs, which means you’re not my friend either.”
There was about five seconds of silence, but it felt like five minutes to Randall. He kept his cool, trying to control his adrenaline that was rushing throughout his body. He didn’t want to do anything stupid.
Finally, Alexandra sighed and raised her pistol higher to Justin’s head. She uttered two words:
“Screw it.”
Justin instantly double tapped two hammered on shots into Alexandra’s chest, sending her own shot off into the door. The bullets exited out her back and sprayed the wall behind her with blood as she fell back.
Before Duncan could get a shot off, Robert grabbed the long barrel of the revolver and quickly twisted it out of his hands, before punching him square in the face and knocking him down.
“I surrender, I surrender!” shouted Duncan through his bleeding mouth, his hands raised high in the air.
Justin stepped into the house with his Glock still trained on Alexandra. She looked up at him in defeat before her eyes glazed over in death.
“She’s gone,” Justin said, lowering his 9mm. “You guys, okay?”
“We’re fine,” Randall said. “Thanks to you.”
Justin quickly scanned outside before closing the door.
“No doubt the neighbors heard those gunshots,” he said. “I’ll explain what happened to them later.”
Robert grabbed Duncan and hauled him downstairs. Justin holstered his Glock 19 and then picked up the Colt .45 and Beretta 9mm that Alexandra had.
“Those are mine,” said Randall.
Justin handed the two pistols over to Randall and they went downstairs to join Duncan and Robert.
“Sit on the couch,” Robert ordered.
“Please don’t kill me!” Duncan cried through tears.
“We won’t if you shut up and do as we say!” Robert hissed.
Duncan promptly sat on the couch as Robert ordered and covered his face with a pillow, sobbing.
“Who are these people?” Justin asked.
“Well, we got a long story to tell you,” said Randall.
Randall took five minutes to summarize everything that had happened to him since had last seen Justin at the start of the EMP.
“Crazy,” Justin said, when Randall was through. “Your family seriously rescued your brother from that Compound place?”
“That’s right,” Randall said. “Wasn’t easy, but we saved him.”
Justin shook his head in disbelief.
“I suppose you want to know what’s been happening here,” he said.
“We heard the town was under martial law, but then the military pulled out and withdrew to Spokane,” said Randall. “We also heard all the homes got sacked, but this neighborhood looks almost as good as it was.”
“That’s because we’ve got three other police officers who live in this neighborhood, plus I’m good friends with the chief,” Justin said. “We convinced him to talk to the National Guard commander and tell him that he would take the neighborhood’s supplies for him. Of course, he didn’t because of his good graciousness. I was relieved.”
“Look guys, I’d love to continue talking, but it’s been ten hours since we left the cabin,” Robert joined in. “We gotta grab as much stuff as we can and hightail it out here. My sister is still with those people, remember?”
“I’ll let you go, but I gotta ask, how the hell did you guys get here?” asked Justin.
“Stole a truck from the Compound,” said Randall. “A 1980s Toyota Hi-Lux. Still in good working condition because it’s invulnerable to the EMP.”
“Where are you guys parked?” Justin asked.
“Outside of Coeur d’Alene on the road to Athol,” said Randall.
“Wow, you’ve got a lot of walking to do,” said Justin.
Just then, there was a knock on the door, followed by multiple more knocks.
“That’ll be the neighbors,” said Justin. “I’ll talk to them. Gather what you guys need. I’ll take it you’ll be heading back to your grandparents’ lake cabin?”
“That’s right,” Randall said. “And thank you for what you did. I think you saved our lives.”
“No problem, I wish you all the luck,” Justin said. “And don’t worry, I’ll take care of the body too.”
Chapter Nine
The Compound
Butler stood in his office overlooking a map of Priest Lake. Gale and George were in the room with him.
“You’re sure they’re here on the north end?” Butler asked.
He pointed to the northern end of Priest Lake on the map.
“We didn’t actually see them, but several folks said that’s where they are,” replied Gale.
Butler nodded.
“Then that’s where they must be,” he said.
“We spread the word about what they did to Gerald,” said Gale. “More people are going to join our side. Tomorrow, I’m supposed to meet up with this guy named Phil and a band of people that he’s getting together.”
“Good,” said Butler. “Actually, that is excellent news. The more numbers the better.”
“I promised them protection for their families and food in return, though,” Gale brought up. “So we bought them at a price.”
“It’s a price that we can easily afford,” said Butler. “The more people we have, the better. Not only to eliminate the Parkers, but to survive over the long term as well.”
Butler stepped away from the map and over to his big gun safe that rested in the corner.
“George, update me on the progress we’ve made here,” Butler said as he began to unlock the gun safe.
“In addition to our normal security force of two hundred men, I’ve got three hundred more people who are able to fight,” said Gale. “But we have quite a few old folks and children, so a lot of other able bodied people who could fight want to stay here to protect them instead of venturing out after the Parker’s.”
Butler opened up his gun safe and pulled out a Ruger Mini-14 with a collapsing skeletal stock. He set it down on the table next to the map.
“That’s fine,” he said. “People are scared, I get it. Besides, we need people to guard the Compound anyway. And five hundred soldiers plus the guys we’re gonna meet up with? That’s more than enough.”
Butler set some loaded magazines for his Mini-14 down on the table and then stepped back to his gun safe.
�
��Five hundred is way too many,” said Gale. “How are we supposed to transport all of them? We don’t even have a dozen vehicles. And how are we supposed to coordinate an attack with so many people? It’s not like the Parker’s have that many. I’d be willing to bet that they have twenty people at the most.”
“We’ll only need a hundred people for the assault,” said Butler, as he pulled out his SIG Sauer P220R .45 pistol and holstered it on his right hip. “You’re right, Gale, twenty is a very generous estimate for their number.”
“So what’s the plan then?” asked George.
Bulter pulled out one more gun from the safe, a hammerless Smith & Wesson .38 J-frame, and concealed it in his vest pocket. He then stepped back over to the map and put both of his hands back on the table.
“George, I’m going to task you with maintaining the defense of the Compound,” he said. “Have guards on high alert and the walls and patrols within a three mile radius. There are to be a minimum of five people per patrol, at all times.”
Butler looked back over the map again and then looked up to Gale.
“Gale, you and I will be leading the attack,” he said. “We’ll take a hundred of our most able bodied and well armed members and meet up with your guy Phil or whatever his name is. We’ll drive on up to the northern end of the lake and surround their cabin. That way, they’ll have nowhere to run but to the water. The Parker’s won’t stand a chance. They’ll either all be killed or they’ll have to surrender. And if they surrender, well, let’s just say that they’ll wish they were killed in the gunfire after all.”
* * *
Afternoon was coming to an end and evening was starting to set in as Randall, Robert, and Duncan walked back to their Hi-Lux truck through Coeur d’Alene. Each of them were carrying two duffle bags filled with food, medicine, clothing, blankets, and guns and ammunition. Due to the weight of the bags, their progress to the vehicles were much slower than when they had come.
Many desperate and hungry looking people approached them to ask what was in the bags, but Randall and Robert simply went on their way. When people became too inquisitive or forcibly tried to take them, they were forced to draw their pistols to ward them off.
They finally reached their Hi-Lux where they had left it and tossed the duffel bags in the bag.
“Are you going to kill me now?” Duncan asked.
“No,” said Randall. “And when we go back to your people to pick up my cousin and drop off half the supplies like we promised, you better tell the truth about what happened, alright? Alexandra was a nut job.”
Robert fired up the truck and the three of them piled into the front seats, Duncan between them.
Robert drove back down the network of dirt roads the way they came.
* * *
It was nightfall and pitch black outside when Robert pulled the Hi-Lux back to the spot at the dirt road where Joe and his gang had stopped them before.
Robert brought the vehicle to a steady halt and honked the horn three times. Within a matter of seconds, Joe and the five members of his gang materialized out of the trees.
Randall, Robert, and Duncan climbed out of the Hi-Lux.
“Where’s my sister?” Robert asked.
“Hold your horses, where’s the supplies?” asked Joe.
“WHERE’S MY SISTER?!” Robert screamed.
“Alright, alright,” said Joe. “Get out here, little girl!”
Jane stepped out from behind one of the trees, her .30-30 rifle in her hands like it had been when they had left. She had no bruises or scratches of any kind.
“Are you alright, Jane?” Robert asked.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“Wait a minute, where’s Alexandra?!” cried Joe. “Where the hell is she?!”
It was then that Randall noticed Joe had a semi-automatic pistol in his hand. He looked at Robert.
“She’s dead,” Randall said, his hand resting on the grip of his .45 in case anything went bad, which he sensed it might.
Joe took a moment to let it sink in.
“What do you mean she’s dead?!” he asked.
“I mean she turned on us and held us captive at gunpoint,” Randall responded. “We were scavenging at my parent’s place and a neighbor showed up and told her to drop her gun. She didn’t and he shot her when she raised her gun. That’s what happened.”
“It’s true, Joe,” said Duncan.
“Shut up Duncan!” Joe yelled angrily.
“I said it’s true!” Duncan yelled back.
Randall pulled out three of the six of the duffle bags from the back of the Hi-Lux and threw them on the dirt road.
“There’s half of the supplies like we agreed,” said Randall.
“No, we did not agree to Alexandra getting killed!” screamed Joe.
He raised his pistol at Randall, but Randall drew his 1911 and aimed back. Each of Joe’s gang followed suit and took aim at Randall as well. Jane cocked her rifle and aimed at the back of Joe’s head.
Just like that, Randall and Robert had found themselves in the middle of another Mexican standoff.
“It wasn’t our fault!” Randall said. “It was her fault and her’s alone.”
Robert, who was still standing behind the Hi-Lux, pulled his AR-15 from the seat and took aim at Joe as well. Since everyone else just had pistols, shotguns, or rifles that needed to be re-chambered after each shot, he by far had the best firepower of anyone there.
“Joe, I am telling you they are telling the truth!” said Duncan, the only one there without a gun.
“Jane, make your way back here!” Robert shouted.
“No, don’t move!” Joe yelled back. “Or I kill both of you and her!”
“You shoot, and I blow out your brains!” said Jane.
“Do you want the supplies or not?!” Randall asked. “We can still all walk away from here without a shot being fired.”
“I want all of your supplies!” Joe said. “For the death of Alexandra I get all of it! That’s a very generous offer!”
“Half and half like we agreed!” countered Randall.
“Joe, please, he is telling the truth, Alexandra was crazy and you know it!” shouted Duncan. “You know full well she was crazy!”
Everyone continued to stand there tensely with their guns aimed at one another.
“I told you to shut up, Duncan!” said Joe. “All the supplies! All of it! Or we gun all of your bastards down and you with them, Duncan! For all I know you’re one of them now!”
Randall could see this was going nowhere. He analyzed the situation: his Colt 1911 may have been aimed directly at Joe’s face and likewise Joe’s gun was aimed at him, but even if he could get a shot off to kill Joe, Joe and all of his gang would fire at once and cut him in half in a hail of bullets. Jane would also be able to shoot Joe with her rifle, her standing behind him, but she would be gunned down by Joe’s people as well. Robert might be able to pick off a few of them with his AR, but due to the fact that they were heavily outnumbered he’d most certainly be shot and killed too.
Randall realized there was only one solution to this situation that didn’t involve all of them getting killed. To the surprise of everyone else there, he holstered his .45 in his gun belt, and then took off his gun belt and threw it in the back of the Hi-Lux where the rest of their guns were.
“Alright,” said Randall. “You get half the supplies and you get me. You return Jane and let her and Robert move on.”
“Randall, what the hell are you doing?!” Robert yelled.
“This is the only way, Rob,” said Randall.
“Don’t do this, Rand!” said Jane.
“If this is what it takes to get you two to safety and the supplies to our family, then so be it,” said Randall.
“Wait a minute, you’re handing yourself to us?” asked Joe, extremely surprised by this turn of events.
“That’s right,” said Randall. “You take me and do whatever you want with me. But you let Jane and Robert go with
our share of the supplies.”
“Done,” said Joe, lowering his pistol a little bit. “Alright, you step forward to us and the little girl goes to you.”
Randall stepped forward to Joe. Two members of his gang immediately rushed forward, grabbed him by the arms, and pushed him down to the ground with their shotguns pressed against his back.
The Will To Survive: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (The EMP Brothers Series Book 2) Page 6
