Antediluvian Purge (Book 1): EMP

by Ison, S. A.

  He took his pipe out of his pocket and lit the tobacco. Inhaling the fragrant smoke, he let it curl and seep in. He could feel the smoke swirling gently in his lungs and held it there a moment or two.

  Letting the smoke out, he released the tension. But his thoughts were like pinballs, striking on every side of his brain. There wasn’t much that could be done about the men who’d beaten Earl. There was clearly no law, or at least any semblance of law and order.

  Earl could take matters into his own hands, and Harry would back him up, but it would take time for Earl to heal. He’d wait and see what the man wanted to do.

  The rain slackened after a time and became a light drizzle, the humidity beginning to rise. He drew on his pipe again. Harry looked over to the women, who were still swinging slowly. He could barely make out their forms.

  “What was the damage?” Harry asked to no one in particular.

  “Well, he’s lucky to be alive, that’s for sure,” Willene answered him. “He has some cracked ribs, and perhaps a fractured radius on his left arm as well as broken fingers. We splinted up the arm and fingers, to keep that side immobile.”

  “He has numerous contusions and abrasions, and they knocked out a couple teeth. He also bit the hell out of his tongue. That will have to heal on its own. We stitched up the worse of the gashes. We don’t know about internal damage, we’ll just have to wait and see,” Marilyn added.

  “Does he know who did this to him?” Willene asked.

  “He said it was a couple of friends,” Harry said flatly.

  “Lord have mercy,” Marilyn said.

  “What’s worse, his neighbors just stood and watched as he was nearly beaten to death,” Harry said, his voice rough with suppressed anger.

  “I don’t understand how people can just stand by and watch someone be hurt like that,” Willene said.

  “I don’t either. Was there not one man among them that would step in?” Marilyn asked.

  “No, none. They all stood looking at me as I loaded Earl into the truck. They looked like sheep, their faces stupid and blank,” Harry said, taking a long draw on his pipe. He let the smoke go from his nostrils like an angry dragon, the eddies moving outward.

  “These people were more than likely like that before the power ended,” Willene said.

  “Yep. Useless people. Not worth spit,” Harry agreed.

  They all looked around as Boggy stepped out onto the porch. They could barely make out his silhouette as he crossed the porch and sat in one of the rockers.

  “I checked on Earl, he’s sleepin’,” Boggy said to no one in particular.

  “I’ll take first watch. I’m too wired up to sleep. I’ll get you up, Willene, about 2 a.m. if that is okay?” Harry said.

  “What time is it now?” Boggy asked.

  “I’d say about nine,” Willene said.

  “Seems later. I’m headed to bed. It’s been a long day,” Marilyn said, getting up from the swing.

  “There is cornbread and beans on the stove if you’re hungry later on, Harry. Good night,” Willene said as she too left the porch.

  Boggy and Harry sat quietly in the dark. The silence was broken by tree frogs croaking and high chirps that started up a chorus. The rain had all but stopped. Buzzing crickets joined in joyfully, then the cicadas added their humming, drowning out the silence.

  “What happened to Earl? I was gonna ask him, but he was sleepin’, so I dinn’,” Boggy asked.

  “Earl said couple of meth head friends were at his trailer, and when he didn’t have food, they beat him and took his truck,” Harry said, relighting his pipe.

  “That’d be Hobo an’ Robby Rob. I seen ’em hangin’ out ’round his place,” Boggy clarified.

  “You mean Hobart Holt? And Robert Robinson? They were a grade behind me in high school. What the hell happened to them?” Harry asked, shocked that he knew these men, and at what they’d done to Earl.

  “Well, Hobo got stove up in the mines an’ got hooked on painkillers. When that weren’t ’nough, he hooked up wit’ Robby Rob an’ they’uns got inta meth. They’uns been losers fir years, tain’t worth nothin’ ta no one. I ain’t s’prised they’uns pert-near killed Earl. Sorry peckerwoods, the both of ‘em,” Boggy said, turning and spitting off the porch.

  “The world has gone to hell, and all the cockroaches have come out from their hiding places. The bad people will become truly bad and will take advantage of the collapse. By the way, Boggy, what is your given name?” Harry asked, drawing deeply on his pipe.

  “Beauregard Hines. Lord baby Jesus help us all. How’ins is we gonna protect ourselves?” Boggy asked.

  “The best we can, I expect. We have several things working in our favor, Boggy. First, we are well away from town. Though locals know of the farmhouse, the outsiders won’t. Another good thing, we are very far away from Lexington. Hopefully the barricade blind will grow and fill in, to keep us hidden. We have my NVGs for night watches, and I’ve started putting up early warning traps around the property,” Harry said.

  Boggy laughed sheepishly. “Yeah, I tripped over a couple, dang near gave me a fright. I’ll help tomorra with settin’ more.”

  “I don’t think we should leave the property again, any of us. There isn’t anything out there that we need. And chances are, if we do leave, someone could follow us back,” Harry pointed out.

  “I agree Harry, it is scurry out thar an’ I ain’t even seen it. I knowed people gets crazy at all the after-Thanksgivin’ sales, I don’t even knowd wanna thank ’bout starvin’ folks an’ what they do,” Boggy said.

  “I’ve seen more evil in this world than I care to say. That was in third world countries. We’ve now become a third world country. There are millions out there with no way to get food to survive except to take it from those who have it. Make no mistake, desperate people will kill for even the smallest amount of food, and it won’t take but a few days,” Harry said.

  “Yeah, the lazy folks, they just keep on bein’ lazy and they gonna steal from others who works hard. I seen it all my life. Lots folks has a scratch a’ land, but they’s don’t even plant a garden,” Boggy said.

  “Yes, and if groups of evil people band together as they seem to do, we’ll be seeing more violence heading our way. I’ve heard that stores no longer keep large stocks of food, that they bring it in every couple days. I passed Walmart to Earl’s place and there were men out front with weapons, guarding it.”

  “You’uns think they’uns is gonna help hungry folks?” Boggy asked.

  “Don’t know. I hope so, but chances are, no they won’t. They’ll keep it for themselves. If that is so, then people are going to be hurting quick. I don’t know what the local government has set up as far as an emergency contingency plan,” Harry said.

  “Iffn they don’t knowed how ta hunt, they ain’t gonna be able ta get meat. Maybe there bes’ time fer them ta plant a good garden, but it ain’t gonna grow fast. I’d ’spect we got our work cut out fer us.” Boggy laughed softly, getting up. He walked pass Harry and patted him on the shoulder, then headed into the house.

  Harry smiled to himself. Though Boggy was nineteen, he was still a kid and was trying to adapt to the new world and be a man. He was a good kid, though, and Harry liked him. He was a hard worker and an honest young man. Harry was glad the kid was here; they’d need him.

  He stood and walked up and down the porch, looking through the NVGs, then went down off the porch and around the house to the back, scanning the tree line with the NVGs. The chorus of critters filled the damp night air, and the smell of ozone permeated everything around him. Dampness surrounded him and his skin captured droplets, which coalesced and dripped down his face.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Hobo sat on the dirty ill-sprung couch, littered with old cartons of fast food. The house stank like old farts and mold. His stomach rumbled loudly. He watched as cockroaches skittered freely across the floor, uninhibited by human presence. The cockroaches crawled in and out of scatt
ered empty food containers, their tiny scratching filling the silent room.

  Hobo picked his left nostril and flicked something across the room at one of the insects, missing. He wiped his finger on his belly. He looked to the kitchen and saw Robby Rob’s body sprawled out, his chest rising and falling in rhythmic slumber. Hobo scratched his hairy belly, lifted his hip, and ripped out a burbling fart.

  “Wake up, Robby, I’s hongry. We’uns need ta go find some grub,” Hobo bellowed, eliciting a jerk from the prone man. Slowly, Robby Rob sat up, his dark face gray in the dim sunshine that penetrated the heavy drapes. Hobo could hear the scrap of stubble as the sleepy man scratched at his jaw.

  Robby Rob slowly rose, a staccato of thunderous farts added to the fug in the apartment. “I thank I shit myself,” Robby Rob said, shaking his left leg, jigging something loose. He turned and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Hobo struggled from the couch and went to the window, pulling the heavy drapes open. His head jerked back from the stabbing pain of bright light that flooded the room. Dust molts danced in the shafts of light that spilled in, illuminating the filthy floors. The cockroaches scurried for cover, searching for cool darkness and safety.

  Once more Hobo scratched his hairy belly. His eyes scanned the road below the second story apartment. He noticed Earl’s truck parked half up on the curb, a rubber trashcan pinioned beneath it. Two youths were looking into the truck and he rapped hard on the window, shouting, “Git the hell aware from my truck you’uns little shits.” He grinned, his discolored and rotted teeth glistening in the light, as he watched the boys scattered.

  “The toilet ain’t flush, and the dang water don’t turn on,” Robby Rob complained, coming back into the living room.” He wore a different pair of jeans, but Hobo could still smell shit on him.

  “Don’t you’uns remember, ya idjit? The dang world has came ta an end. Ain’t no power an’ no ’lectricity.” Hobo spoke as though to a simpleton.

  “Oh yeah, I ’member now. I’s hungry, we need ta finds us some food,” Robby Rob lamented.

  “I was thinkin’ the very same thang. Let’s go ta the QuickMart an’ see what’s for breakfast,” Hobo laughed.

  Both men left the apartment and made their way to Earl’s truck. The truck started up and they pulled off the curb, leaving the rubber trash can behind. The trip only took a few short minutes, winding in and out of abandoned vehicles. They pulled into the QuickMart and noticed the windows had been busted out.

  “Shit, looks like someuns beat us to it,” Hobo said, frustration lacing his voice.

  “Let’s alook anyway, we mighta could find some shit,” Robby Rob said, opening the passenger’s door before the truck came to a stop.

  Going in, Hobo saw an old man digging though a pile of debris knocked over from the shelves. The old man ignored the newcomers, continuing to comb through papers and boxes. Hobo walked over and kicked the old man hard. “Git the hell outta hare old man, this’uns mine,” he barked.

  The old man staggered up and made his way toward the door. Robby Rob kicked him through the opening and the old man fell to his knees, the palms of his hands skidding through the broken glass. He gave a shout of pain and Robby Rob laughed.

  Hobo went to the hotdog rotisserie and looked around. Behind the counter he found a few hotdogs on the floor. He snatched them up and beat them on the counter. Then he shoved them into his mouth and began to chew methodically, pulling bits of debris out of his mouth from time to time. His eyes scanned around the store and along the floor. The place had been trashed, most of the shelves were knocked over.

  The glass doors to the refrigerator units were all broken. He kicked at some of the debris near the units and found an unbroken bottle of beer in the mess. He picked it up and opened it. He drank from it heavily and let out a long belch, then sighed in satisfaction.

  “We gotta find somethin’ a lot better than this, Hobo, we ain’t gonna last long,” Robby Rob said, his hand down the back of his pants, scratching his butt crack.

  “You’uns right ’bout that. Maybe we go find some old grandma’s house, move in for a while,” Hobo said grinning. His stained and rotted teeth held bits of hotdogs.

  “Let’s see what we kin find here an’ let’s go door ta door an’ find us a place ta squat. Maybe have a lil funn wit granny.” Robby Rob laughed hysterically and rubbed his crotch.

  Hobo laughed as well, and thought it was a good idea. And the more he thought about it, the better he liked the idea. He found a plastic bag and rummaged through the garbage on the floor. When he found bits of food and edible garbage, he threw it into the bag. He didn’t find any more beer. Perhaps their next home would have something.

  He turned in time to see Robby Rob pissing into the open refrigeration unit. He had his dick in one hand and a large pretzel in the other, chewing on it. Hobo walked past, snatched the pretzel and shoved most of it in his mouth.

  “Hey man, what the hell you’uns done did that fir? I’s hungry,” Robby Rob yelled, turning his body, still urinating.

  “Ya shoulda done did eat it already, dumbass.” Hobo laughed and walked out of the store. He stopped and smelled his fingers. They smelled like shit. He wiped them absently on his pants and went to the truck.

  Ӝ

  Dr. Lee sat at her desk in her office, looking at her charts. Her eyes began to blur. She rubbed at them hard, her knuckles turning white. She’d been at the hospital so long, and she was down to only two nurses and three orderlies. Six patients had passed away the previous night, and several had been taken by family members. There was no one in the cafeteria, so she and the nurses and orderlies had made do, feeding themselves and the patients what they could.

  She wondered once more about the generator, and why it hadn’t turned on. She looked out the window, it was dark and she saw no lights anywhere. Her penlight was starting to lose its glow. She sat back and looked up into the dark ceiling.

  She jerked hard when her door burst open. She couldn’t see the face, but she could see the silhouette of a young man, thin and gangly.

  “Doctor Katie, is that you?” a male teen’s voice asked, his voice cracking.

  “Alan? Is that you? What are you doing here?” Katie asked, her hand held to her chest, trying to get her racing heart under control.

  “Dr. Katie, you gotta come wit’ me, you gotta leave now!” he cried in alarm.

  “What? What’s going on? Why are you here? Why do you want me to leave? Is it my parents?” Katie asked, trying to calm the boy down.

  “Dr. Katie, they’s commin’ ta get ya, they’s gonna kill you,” Alan said, grabbing her arm and tugging at her, his head on a swivel. The boy was surprisingly strong and he pulled her hard.

  Katie began to walk toward the door, then reached and grabbed her leather doctor’s bag and the fading penlight. She flashed the light around the room, then let Alan pull her along. “We need to swing by the emergency room on the way out, and who is coming to kill me?” Katie asked, thinking the boy was being a bit overdramatic, but knowing he was in a real panic.

  “I’ll tell ya when we git ta my grampa’s truck, we ain’t got no time fer the ’mergency room,” Alan said stridently, his long, gangly legs eating up the distance.

  “We need to swing by the emergency room, I mean it,” Katie insisted, wondering what was going on. The boy’s panic beginning to affect her, she could feel her body responding and the small tremors that were beginning to move through her body.

  She was jerked roughly in the direction of the ER, her short legs trying to keep up with the teen. Alan’s breathing had become a harsh kind of sobbing and she began to pick up more of the panic that radiated from him. Her heart rate was increasing now, and it was becoming painful as it slammed into her chest.

  Sweat began to lace her body, and her legs trembled as their steps led them to the ER. By the time they entered the trauma unit, her legs felt like limp noodles and she had to hold on to things so she wouldn’t collapse.

  Katie
ran over to several cabinets, nearly stumbling. She pulled her keys from her pocket and unlocked the drawers, taking vials and needles out. Opening her valise, she swept the vials and needles into it. Then she filled the bag with gauze, antiseptic wipes, and other medical paraphernalia.

  Alan’s insistent tugs became more violent when they heard the roar of engines.

  “They’s here, we gatta git!” Alan cried, his fear filling the room.

  Katie allowed herself be led away, and ran hard to keep up with Alan. Her mouth was now cotton dry, and fear numbed her brain. Her body had taken over and the flight response was in full swing. It wasn’t blind panic, but it was damned close to it.

  They headed to the north exit and burst through the door. He dragged her across the pavement to the truck that was parked by the exit. He opened the passenger side door and slung her bodily into the truck. “Keep down fer the love of God Almighty,” Alan hissed, and slammed the door.

  He jumped into the driver’s seat and started the truck and raced out of the hospital parking area. His headlights were off, but when Katie peeked over the dash, she saw several trucks pull up to the ER entry doors. She saw the shadowed figures of men with weapons rushing into the hospital. Alan’s truck turned violently onto a side road and she fell to the floor boards. She crawled back onto the seat and tried to pull the seatbelt, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “You’uns kin sit up now, we’s well away,” Alan said, his voice calmer, but she heard the tremor in it.

  Katie sat up and held on to the armrest of the door. The truck swayed back and forth wildly, then straightened out. He switched the headlights on and slowed a bit, weaving in and out of residential streets.

  “What’s going on, Alan, what has happened?” Katie asked, trying to slow her heart, her own voice sounding strident.

  “I ain’t knowd how ta tell ya, but them thar men done did killed you’uns folks, Dr. Katie,” Alan said, sorrow heavy in his voice, a sob choking him off.

  Katie stared at the young man, his face dark in the cab of the truck. She had to play his words over again before they registered, then her heart dropped into her stomach. Cold washed through her body, chilling her to the bone. “What?!” she cried, her voice bouncing around the cab of the truck.