by Victor Zugg
NEAR TOTAL
ECLIPSE
SOLAR PLEXUS 2
A Dystopian Novel by
VICTOR ZUGG
NEAR TOTAL ECLIPSE
SOLAR PLEXUS 2
© 2018 by Victor Zugg
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Many thanks to Brandi Doane McCann at www.ebook-coverdesigns.com for the cover design, along with Jonathan McCann and Edith Leclerc, the models used for the characters on the cover. I would also like to thank Tamra Crow ([email protected]) for her editing. She made the book infinitely better. And finally, I’d like to thank Sarah Gralnick for enduring the forced labor of having to read the many drafts. Her suggestions were much appreciated.
CHAPTER 1
Sam Pratt’s chin drooped to his chest and his shoulders slumped. Facing the townspeople of Townsend, Tennessee, was not going as planned. He expected the people to rejoice at the news that the renegades that killed their police chief, and took over their town, were all dead. Instead, the forty or so people standing before him in front of the police station shook their fists in the air, pressed forward, and shouted about not having enough food.
“I tried to tell you this was a bad idea,” Chet Stevens said, as he stood his ground next to Sam. “Getting involved with the townspeople—” Chet let his words trail off as he tightened his jaw, shook his head back and forth, and rested his hand on the grip of his holstered Glock 17. “Well, like I said.”
Sam had always respected Chet’s opinion. They had been best friends their entire life, and business partners for almost ten years after they both had served in the military—the air force for Sam, the army for Chet. Given their military backgrounds, they were usually of kindred minds, and Sam always took seriously what Chet had to say. Listening to his ideas had served them well over the years, especially during their recent trip up from Central Florida after the solar storm induced EMP and the massive power outage. The EMP was only eleven days ago, but it seemed like months, years even.
Sam rubbed his entire face with both hands as he wondered why he had not listened to Chet’s opinion this time. Sam felt older than his fifty years as he raised his chin, blinked slowly, and tried to think of the words that would placate these people.
Sam stared back at the crowd for several long seconds without uttering a word. He wondered where all their outrage was when the renegades were taking over their town. He darted his eyes from face to face, many of which he recognized, until finally the shouts and grumbling ground to a halt and everyone waited for what Sam had to say.
“We are witnessing an apocalyptic catastrophe.” Sam spoke in an even tone, without raising his voice. “We are without power. The world is without power. Only vehicles built before microcircuits were installed still work. Store shelves are empty. Power and stocked shelves won’t return anytime soon. And worst of all, it’s only been a few days and we’ve already seen the dark side of human nature. Unfortunately, it will get worse. Much worse.”
The crowd uttered a low grumble and was in the process of resuming its fury when Sam slowly raised his hand. The crowd became quiet again; everyone faced Sam.
“Chet and I, along with one other, drove here from Central Florida to escape the carnage of the larger cities. It was not an easy trip. People have literally lost their minds. Our plan was to wait out this situation here, in these sparsely populated foothills, by living off the land at my cabin. That is still my plan. If you expect to survive, that’s exactly what each of you must do. Find a way to survive off the land. This situation will probably last many months, possibly years. No one is coming to help.” But there will be plenty of people coming to take what you have, he thought. “Keep in mind, we are the lucky ones. We are not stuck in some large city. We have water, and the land. We can hunt, fish, and grow crops. We have the best chance for survival. But there is a downside. It’s likely that we’ll need to defend our homes from the marauders who will surely come to take what we have. You can expect more of the kind who killed your chief, occupied your town, and tried to take what little food you have.”
A burly man in his late thirties, solid build, medium beard similar to Chet’s, stepped out from the crowd and pointed to the Humvee parked behind Sam and Chet. He wore camo pants, an OD green T-shirt, and a holstered semi-automatic pistol. “Easier done with transportation and the help of the military.”
The attractive young woman at his side appeared out of place in her low-rise tight jeans, bikini top, short black hair, and the holstered large caliber revolver on her hip. She definitely stood out among the mostly older crowd. The muscles of her bare abdomen and arms indicated a lot of hard work, or working out. Sam guessed it was mostly the former, given her dark tan.
Sam turned his attention back to the crowd. “On our way north we joined up with army and air force units on their way to Atlanta. They were going there to regain control from the gangs, in accordance with the president’s declaration of martial law. Unfortunately, that effort failed. Too many troops considered the situation hopeless. They deserted, probably to return home to protect their families. While we were there we put our lives on the line, not for Atlanta, but for the men and women who stood beside us. That’s what we have to do here. If you don’t come together for a common cause, you will perish.”
“So how did you end up with a Hummer?” the burly man asked.
“The commander of the operation in Atlanta found himself with more vehicles than he had drivers. Because we helped out, he rewarded us with the vehicle before they left to return home.”
Everyone turned to the sound of vehicles approaching. Two pickups pulled up to the police station and stopped a few feet from the crowd. A young woman with short blond hair, wearing black tactical pants, and a holstered Springfield XD-S 9mm semi-automatic pistol on her hip, stepped from an old Ford. A man in his sixties, wearing jeans and a button-down dark plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up, slid from an old Chevy. They both approached Sam and stood at his side, facing the crowd.
“This is Tiff Conway and her dad, Charlie,” Sam said. “These trucks were built before microcircuits. They were not affected by the electromagnetic pulse. We took them from the thugs who killed your police chief. They are now yours to use as you see fit.”
The crowd moved toward the trucks and began talking among themselves.
Sam walked over to the burly man and the woman and stuck out his hand. “I’m Sam Pratt.”
The man took Sam’s hand with a firm grasp. “I’m Toby Thomas,” the man said. “This is Jess.”
Jess smiled and shook Sam’s hand without saying anything.
“I knew your Chief Daniels,” Sam said. “He was a good man. It’s unfortunate he and his officers were gunned down by the shitheads who invaded your town.”
“The chief was my uncle,” Toby said. “On my mother’s side. I was born and raised here in Townsend. And you’re right, he was a good man. We didn’t always see eye to eye, hardly ever actually, but just the same, I was in the process of rectifying the situation when you g
uys showed up and took care of it for me.”
Chet, Tiff, and Charlie joined Sam and shook hands with Toby and Jess.
Jess smiled at Chet and Charlie.
Sam noticed the smile wither when she shook hands with Tiff.
Tiff turned her attention to Sam and Chet.
“This town needs some leadership,” Chet said. “What happened to the mayor and town council?”
“After the chief was killed, the town council and the mayor tried to negotiate. Negotiations turned into threats and the council backed down. In fact, they stuck their head in a hole and never looked up while those assholes ransacked the town. A lot of them, including the mayor, ended up dead.”
“Do you live in town?” Tiff asked.
“Nope. Live well out of town. I wasn’t here when my uncle was killed.”
“Any thoughts on who might be willing to take a leadership role?” Sam asked.
“Not really,” Toby replied.
In the background, semi-civil conversation turned into shouts as several of the town’s citizens began arguing over the two trucks.
“Whoever tries to lead this bunch will be in for a full time job,” Toby said. “It won’t be me. In fact, we need to scoot,” he said, as he and Jess started backing away. “Nice meeting you guys.”
“You, too,” Sam said, as he waved and then turned toward the crowd gathered around the two pickup trucks.
Chet, Charlie, and Tiff nodded to Toby and Jess as they turned to leave.
Charlie began talking with an older gentleman off to the side.
Chet and Tiff walked up next to Sam and watched as more people gathered around the pickups.
One man sat in the driver’s seat of the Ford with his right hand wrapped knuckle-white around the steering wheel, while he used his left arm to fend off another man who was trying to remove him from the seat. A third man joined the fray, and soon all three wrestled on the ground next to the truck’s open door.
Charlie joined Sam, Chet, and Tiff, as they watched the three men wrestle in the dirt.
Chet glanced at Sam. “I think our work here is done.”
Sam nodded his head. “I guess.”
The four of them stepped to the Hummer and hopped in, with Chet in the driver’s seat.
Chet started the truck and pulled out of the police station parking lot. “Where to?”
“The cabin,” Sam said, as he looked at Tiff and Charlie, “unless anyone needs to stop somewhere.” With no response, Sam turned back to the front. “Actually, let’s survey the town, see how bad it is where people actually live.”
***
Toby and Jess slid into the cab of an old flatbed truck parked half a mile east of the police department, in a patch of trees and brush.
Toby inserted a key in the ignition and then looked at Jess, without starting the engine. “You’re awfully quiet. What’s wrong?”
Jess stared out the passenger side window and said nothing.
Toby took his fingers off the ignition key and sat back in the seat. “What’s wrong, Jess?”
“I saw the way you looked at her,” Jess said, without looking at Toby.
“Yeah, who would that be?”
“The cute blond…Tiff.”
“Cut the shit Jess, I wasn’t looking at the blond, at least not the way you seem to think.”
Jess jerked her head toward Toby. “Bull shit. You’re an asshole,” she said, as she turned her head back to the window.
“We’ve talked about this,” Toby said. “You know as well as I do that jealousy is a manifestation of insecurity. What you are feeling is all in your head. I didn’t do anything wrong, and I’m not playing your game.”
“You’re welcome to her,” Jess said, as she continued to look out the window.
“Uh-huh,” Toby muttered, as he started the engine and pulled out.
In total silence, they drove the five miles or so to their camp deep in the forest. Toby pulled the truck to a stop next to a large, white motorhome.
Jess flung the truck door open, raced inside the RV, and slammed the door shut.
Toby got out and joined four other guys and a woman sitting inside an open-air screened wood structure, situated in front of two other RVs parked end-to-end. The three RVs formed a semicircle.
Toby sat heavily in an empty chair and huffed.
One of the men handed Toby a beer. “She pulling her shit again?”
Toby looked at the man and took the beer. He pulled the tab and took a long drink. “Yeah. Same old shit. New girl in town this time.”
The woman got up from her chair. “I’ll go talk to Jess,” she said, as she closed the screen door behind her.
“Amy will calm her down,” the man said. “You guys will be at it like pigs in heat tonight.”
Toby looked at the man. “Tommy, sometimes I wonder why I invited you to join our camp.”
“Because I’m your brother,” Tommy said, as he smiled. He took a long drink from his beer. “So who’s the new girl in town?”
“She’s with the guys who killed the shitheads a few days ago,” Toby said.
“You met them?” one of the other men asked.
Toby looked at the man. “Jackson, you’d like ‘em…boy scouts like you.”
A black man got up and got another beer. “Must not be total boy scouts. They cleared the town of a bunch of renegades while we sat our asses in these chairs.”
“Like I’ve explained a hundred times, Franklin,” Toby said, “we’re not getting involved with the town. It’s a losing proposition. It made sense before; it makes sense now. We tend to the farm and sell our product as long as possible. We bug out if we have to.”
Toby looked at the fourth man, who stared at the beer he held in his lap. “Doc, you have anything to add?”
“Nope,” Doc replied. “We trade for what we need, and we wait for the lights to come back on. We don’t draw any attention to ourselves. Lie low. Fight only if a direct threat comes our way.”
“You see,” Toby said. “At least one of you meat heads understands the concept of keeping a low profile.”
“What about food?” Tommy asked. “As resources out there dwindle, we won’t be able to trade our product. The people in Knoxville can’t eat it. They won’t give up their food for it. Then what? Rabbits and squirrels will be gone, eventually.”
“We’ll have to supplement,” Franklin said. “No way around it.”
Toby nodded as he put his feet against the stone fire pit in the center of the floor and rocked his chair back on two legs. He studied the metal hood, and the exhaust pipe that extended through the roof. He thought about the camp they had built here next to the stream. He remembered when it was all overgrown brush and briars. He, Franklin, and Jess cleared the camp area with machetes and axes. They started the farm and got the operation going. They lived in tents in the beginning. That was over three years ago. As the operation grew, they invited a select few to join, people they could trust. Jackson and Doc, two guys Toby could trust with his life, came next. They were warriors, like himself and Franklin. They all served together in the army. With everyone working hard, profits grew. Motorhomes replaced the tents. Since they couldn’t constantly be taking the RVs into town to empty the gray and black water tanks, they built an outhouse and an outdoor shower. Then they built the screened enclosure, with a fire pit. And they built a barn where they could process the crop. The camp was relatively comfortable, even if the RVs would no longer start. It was the perfect place to wait out an apocalypse. Just after the EMP hit, Toby brought his brother, his only remaining family member, in from Knoxville. Eventually, Tommy persuaded Toby to accept his girlfriend, Amy. They both had been a good addition. Everyone worked, and everyone benefited from the proceeds. The only fly in the ointment was the occasional jealous rage from Jess. He hoped she would get over it, but it wasn’t looking likely. He would just have to deal with her occasional flare-ups. She was a charter member of the operation, and Toby would respect that.
<
br /> Toby looked at Franklin. “Yeah, we will need to supplement.”
***
“The MREs we got from the army in Atlanta are not going to last forever and we don’t have a lot of canned goods at the cabin,” Tiff said from the back seat, next to Charlie. “We’re going to need some food soon.”
“Too late to grow anything,” Charlie said. “Winter is approaching fast.”
“We can’t take food from the people in town,” Sam said. “Any thoughts?”
“I can hunt and fish,” Charlie said. “I have plenty of arrows for my bow. Better than using a gun.”
Chet glanced back at Charlie. “We’ll need to do both, but we’ll need more than that, especially in the grain department—rice, oatmeal, and such.”
“There’s a couple of grocery store distribution centers just west of Knoxville, close to where interstates 75 and 40 cross,” Sam said. “Probably picked over pretty good by now, but we could give it a try.”
Chet steered the Hummer out to the main road and turned west. “How big are these distribution centers?”
“They service all the surrounding towns,” Sam said. “The gangs in Atlanta must have taken over the distribution centers down there pretty much on day one. We can expect some resistance up here, but hopefully not to that degree.”
“Maybe we should take a couple of guys and one of the pickups from town with us,” Tiff said.
“That’s an excellent idea,” Chet said sarcastically. “We can stop by in the morning and see if we can get some volunteers. Maybe afterwards we can invite everyone over for a picnic.”
Tiff smirked at Chet and slowly raised a middle finger.
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” Sam said. “About the extra manpower, not the picnic. More firepower can’t hurt.”
Tiff reached forward and slapped Chet on the shoulder.
Chet shrugged.
