Near Total Eclipse: Solar Plexus 2 (A Dystopian EMP Post-Apocalyptic Fiction Novel)

by Victor Zugg

  After a full five minutes on her stomach, she got to her feet behind the tree. She peered in all directions. Listened. Nothing.

  “This is weird as hell,” Tiff said to Hank, lying on the ground behind the other tree.

  “Agreed,” Hank said. He got to his feet and stepped up next to Tiff.

  “I think the only men here were the ones Sam shot,” Tiff said, as she stepped from behind the tree and started walking toward Chet and Pete.

  Hank fell in behind.

  “I think the place is deserted,” Tiff said, loud enough for Chet and Pete to hear.

  Chet stepped from between the cars to meet Tiff. “You may be right.”

  “Let’s check the inside,” Sam said as he walked up. “Hank, you and Pete hang out here, behind cover.”

  Tiff led Sam and Chet to the front entrance and checked the two men on the ground. She knelt and felt for a pulse. Nothing. She kicked their weapons away and then pulled the glass door open. She stepped into the relative darkness as she simultaneously shouldered her rifle.

  Sam and Chet, with rifles shouldered, fanned out.

  The three of them swept their rifles back and forth as they moved forward. Tiff took the lead down the narrow hall. At each office, Sam or Chet kicked the door open if it was not already open. All were empty of people. They proceeded to the back of the building.

  Tiff stepped into the back section where the cells were located, swept her rifle back and forth, and then lowered the barrel. She reached into her pocket, retrieved a lighter, and flicked it to life. The small flame filled most of the area with enough light to see that it was deserted. “The food is still here.”

  “Those guys out front were the only ones here,” Chet said.

  “Left behind to guard the food and the vehicles while the others—“

  “While the others are maybe headed for the cabin,” Tiff said.

  Chet leaned against a nearby desk. “And we just killed the only two vehicles available.”

  “Not the only ones,” Tiff said, as she slid her pack from her back. She handed the lighter to Chet.

  He flicked the flame to life.

  Tiff reached in her pack, pulled out the wire to the Hummer’s engine, and then slung her pack back on. She held the wire up for Sam and Chet to see.

  “We need to move,” Sam said, as he turned and took a step.

  “Frank could have set this whole thing up,” Chet said. “Knowing we’d go for the Hummer.”

  Sam stopped and turned back to Chet and Tiff. “So what do you recommend?”

  “I recommend we go for the Hummer with the expectation that Frank is waiting for us there.”

  Sam nodded, turned, and hustled into the darkness of the hall.

  Tiff glanced at Chet and then fell in behind Sam.

  “We left the Hummer on Chestnut, a quarter mile due east of the school,” Sam said, as he jogged along.

  Chet nodded as he took deep inhales to catch his breath.

  Tiff and the others trailed behind.

  Sam led the group as they emerged from the east side of the trees and brush and proceeded through a relatively open area dotted with nice houses and driveways. When they were within a hundred yards of where they left the Hummer, Sam slowed to a fast walk, and then took cover behind the corner of a house. He raised his rifle and peered through the sight. “The Hummer is right where we left it.” He swung the rifle in a slow arc left and right of the Hummer. He paused for several seconds on an area just beyond the Hummer’s hood. A small clump of bushes. “I don’t see anyone.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Lance sat on the south end of the bridge wall in the early morning dark. The only sounds were the rustle of the water in the stream below and the soft purring of Wanda as she slept, reclined against the wall. Her head rested against his leg. He had gotten maybe an hour’s worth of sleep. Wanda was working on her second hour when Lance heard an unnatural sound in the distance. A vehicle engine.

  He shifted his leg, which caused Wanda to fall to the side.

  “What?” Wanda asked.

  “I think a truck is coming this way,” Lance said, as he stood and scampered to the center of the road. He peered into the darkness toward Townsend. “Don’t see any lights, but I hear the engine. It’s getting closer.”

  Wanda joined him and cocked her ear toward the sound. “We better take cover. Behind the wall. We can easily slide down the embankment from there.”

  Lance nodded and then followed Wanda back to the wall, where they both crouched low. “Check your magazine,” Lance said.

  “Already done that ten times. We’re as ready as we’re going to be.”

  Lance peered over the wall. “Still no lights. They’re driving without lights.” He lifted his rifle over the wall and aimed for the center of the far end of the bridge. “Start shooting when they reach the end of the bridge.”

  Wanda brought her rifle to bear.

  The truck kept coming, getting louder and louder, until down the road Lance spotted a glint. Probably reflection off the windshield. “Fifty feet,” Lance said, as he lowered his face to the rifle’s stock and aimed along the sights.

  The large dark hulk came into full view just before it reached the end of the bridge. “Now,” Lance said, as he squeezed the trigger. The first blast muffled his hearing, which repeated with each successive round. His right ear got the worst of it with Wanda firing next to him.

  Lance wasn’t sure his rounds were even landing on the truck until suddenly the truck squealed to a stop. In his muffled world, Lance heard voices yelling and the clanging of boots against metal as the dark shapes of several men piled out and took cover behind the truck.

  Lance dropped the empty magazine from the mag well and slapped in a full load. He resumed firing.

  Return fire peppered the stone of the bridge wall with increasing intensity.

  Lance looked at Wanda. “Time to go.”

  She nodded and took off down Tremont. Lance popped up, fired five more rounds in rapid succession, and then dashed to catch her. They were only forty yards down the road when rounds began pinging off the asphalt at their feet and slamming into the tree trunks to their left. “Down the embankment,” Lance yelled.

  Wanda veered left and entered the tree line along the road. Lance was on her heels.

  Rounds shredded the branches and leaves around them and splintered tree trunks.

  In tandem, Lance and Wanda slid down the steep decline of the embankment, landed on their feet at the bank of the stream, and scurried along the sand and rocks away from the bridge.

  Rounds riddled the water and chewed the sand at their feet as they ran. Lance glanced back and saw that men were firing from the bridge. He heard several rounds thud into something nearby as they continued to run. The firing stopped when Lance and Wanda rounded a bend in the stream that took them out of sight from the bridge.

  ***

  Sam swept his rifle left to right, back again, and then took cautious steps from behind the house toward the Hummer. Suddenly, popping in the distance registered in his mind, and he twisted his head to the south. “Probably two miles away… Lance and Wanda.”

  Tiff took off running toward the Hummer. She slid to a stop, raised the hood up, and reached inside the engine compartment.

  Sam, Chet, and the others were right behind her. Sam fished for the ignition key in his pocket, slung the driver’s door open, and jumped into the driver’s seat. He used the ignition key to unlock the cable around the steering wheel.

  When Tiff slammed the hood closed, he turned the key and waited the couple of seconds for the glow plug. He continued twisting the key. The Hummer turned over a few times and then fired to life.

  Immediately after Tiff jumped in the back with Hank and Pete, Sam stomped on the fuel pedal.

  “If Frank has everyone with him,” Tiff said from the back seat, “that’s at least ten, maybe more, men.”

  “Against Lance and Wanda,” Chet said. Chet stuck his head out the window
. “I can’t hear over the engine noise. Don’t know if they’re still shooting.”

  ***

  Emma stood in the middle of the living room floor shaking while Charlie, Juan, and Diego scurried about collecting last minute items for the truck. “We should have been gone when the first shot was fired,” Emma said. “The firing has stopped.”

  “I know,” Charlie said. “We can still make it out of here if we hurry. Grab that bag and let’s go.”

  Emma didn’t move. “We waited too long. They’ll catch us on the road.”

  Juan and Diego ran from the cabin with arms full of supplies.

  “They won’t if we leave now,” Charlie said. He ran back to Emma, dropped his supplies on the floor, and grabbed her by both arms. “We need to go.”

  Emma started moving as Charlie tugged. But then she froze. “I hear a truck engine.”

  Charlie stopped pulling and cocked his head. He heard the engine, too. “You’re right, it is too late.” Charlie let go of Emma and ran out the door to the pickup where Juan and Diego were loading the last few items. “It’s too late, back in the cabin. Bring the guns and ammunition.”

  Juan and Diego froze and turned their heads to listen.

  “No time to wait,” Charlie said. “In the cabin now,” he screamed.

  Juan and Diego grabbed their rifles, the extra magazines, the two ammo boxes, and ran through the open doorway.

  Charlie slammed and locked the door behind them, grabbed Bill’s rifle, and moved to the one window that wasn’t covered with wood. He knelt next to Juan.

  ***

  Three hundred feet before the intersection of Chestnut and the main road, Sam jerked the wheel to the right. The Hummer leaped over a small mound and raced across the open field of cut grass without losing any speed. When the grass merged with the main road, Sam pushed the pedal to the floor. The Hummer hopped on the asphalt and continued east at full bore.

  “Top off all the magazines,” Sam yelled. “I think we’re going to need them.”

  “How do you want to play this?” Chet asked. “They obviously weren’t expecting us to attack the police department. They think we’re at the cabin. Do they even know where the cabin is located?”

  “Not sure,” Sam said, “but probably. There are property records. And several people in town know the location. I just didn’t think Frank would find out this fast.”

  “We’ll be coming in from their rear,” Chet said. “Lance and Wanda will have already fallen back.”

  Sam glanced at Chet.

  “When they heard the firing, Charlie, Emma, and the boys were supposed to bug out,” Chet said.

  “Supposed to,” Sam said. “That doesn’t mean they did.”

  “A mile out,” Sam announced to everyone in the Hummer, as the road ahead curved to the right, due south.

  “Blackout lights or no lights?” Chet asked.

  Sam reached down and switched the blackout lights to off. He focused on the center line until his night vision adjusted. “We have another half hour to sun up.”

  “Actually, it already seems brighter.”

  A minute later Sam slowed a bit as he merged onto Laurel Creek.

  Chet took that opportunity to stick his head out the window and then pulled it back in. “I still don’t hear anything.”

  Sam kept it slow as they approached the turnoff for Tremont. Sam motioned ahead. “Looks like a body in the road.”

  “Two,” Chet said. “I see two humps.”

  Sam stopped the Hummer fifty feet short of the intersection and switched the ignition off. Everyone grabbed their rifles, piled out, and cautiously approached the intersection.

  Sam walked up to the first hump in the road and knelt beside it. “One of theirs.” He stood and joined Chet at the next hump. “Two of theirs.”

  Sam saw Tiff head straight for the rock abutment at the end of the bridge. Sam began walking in that direction. Tiff knelt where the abutment ended and the trees started. Sam walked up next to her.

  “No bodies,” Tiff said.

  Chet, Hank, and Pete joined them.

  Sam looked to the sky and then back to Tiff. “I’m going to take Chet, follow the stream, and come in from that direction. It’s less than a mile. Fifteen minutes, tops.” He walked back to the Hummer and retrieved his and Chet’s backpacks.

  “The rest of us make a frontal assault in fifteen minutes?” Tiff asked.

  “Pull off in the woods a couple of hundred yards short,” Sam said, as he rejoined the group. “Lead them in from the north, through the trees.”

  “That’s exactly what our foxholes were meant to defend against,” Chet said.

  Sam nodded and rubbed his face with his hand. “Let’s hope they won’t stop to enjoy the comfort of your foxholes.”

  Tiff nodded to Hank and Pete as they headed toward the Hummer.

  Sam and Chet entered the trees, climbed down the embankment, and began jogging down the bank. They tromped along the sand when possible, scrambled over the larger rocks and boulders when needed, and slogged through the shallow water when necessary.

  CHAPTER 22

  Sam and Chet had traveled only about a hundred yards up the stream bank when Sam glimpsed a flash of color at the water’s edge, farther up. He squinted through the early morning light of dawn. The color looked out of place for the surroundings. Sam quickened his pace and then doubled his pace again when he realized the color matched Lance’s blue polo shirt.

  Sam and Chet knelt next to Lance and Wanda, both with their lower halves in the water. Their bodies lay lifeless as the stream’s current gently gyrated Lance’s foot.

  Sam put two fingers on Lance’s neck and then switched to Wanda’s neck. Sam’s chin sank to his chest, and he rubbed his entire face with one hand. He then looked skyward as he massaged the back of his neck. “Son of a bitch,” Sam whispered, as he put his hand on Lance’s chest.

  “Looks like they were each hit twice,” Chet said, as he lifted Lance’s shoulder. “They probably died minutes ago.”

  “Bled out trying to get back to the cabin,” Sam said.

  “We’ll have to come back for them,” Chet said, “we need to move.”

  Sam nodded and then slowly stood up. He peered at the lifeless bodies once more and then motioned to Chet.

  Chet picked up the two extra rifles and tossed the extra magazines into his pack.

  They both resumed their pace up the stream, hopping over rocks and plodding through the water. They moved as fast as possible, given the terrain.

  Sam suddenly stopped and cocked his ear. The booming sound of gunfire in the distance was unmistakable. He glanced back at Chet and then continued his trek. Even faster than before.

  ***

  Tiff pulled the wheel to the left and steered the Hummer into the tree line. “We’re walking from here,” she said, as she brought the truck to a stop behind a large bush. She pointed south. “Two hundred yards that way.”

  As she stepped out of the truck, she heard the popping of gunfire in the distance start up. Gunfire at the cabin probably meant her mom, dad, Juan, and Diego were still there. She grabbed her rifle, slung her pack to her back, ran a few yards, and stopped. She looked back at the Hummer. Pete tripped getting out of the back door, fell to the ground, but immediately jumped back to his feet. He grabbed his rifle from the back seat and then raced to join Tiff and Hank. Without saying a word, Tiff turned and dashed off. Hank and Pete followed.

  As she ran, Tiff worked on a plan of action in her mind. She and Chet had cleared a lot of the brush inside the trees north of the cabin, so a direct approach meant they would be exposed as they tried to move in from the north. Sam and Chet should be moving in from the stream, the northeast side of the property. That left the road, which may or may not be guarded. Frank didn’t know that she and the others had decided to attack, rather than defend, and were in town when Frank and his men pulled out. He would not know of the force moving in on his rear. Tiff decided on the road.

 
; She veered sharply right and led Hank and Pete back to the road. They emerged from the low scrub at the road’s edge and accelerated when their feet touched the asphalt. When she was within fifty yards of the cabin, hidden by the trees along the edge of the road, she slowed, crouched, and shouldered her rifle. She motioned for Hank and Pete to spread out. “Don’t fire until I do,” she whispered.

  She slowed to a fast walk when she reached the driveway and immediately came into view of Frank’s pickup parked on the gravel, well short of the open grass of Sam’s property.

  Tiff stopped and motioned for Hank and Pete to move into the trees left and right of the driveway. Tiff continued up the drive with her rifle shouldered and her finger on the trigger.

  Tiff did not see anyone in or around the truck, but she moved up cautiously just the same. When she reached the back of the truck, she peered into the bed. A man covered in blood was on the floor, not moving. He didn’t appear to be breathing. Must have been shot by Lance and Wanda, Tiff thought. Tiff continued on, checking the cab as she passed.

  Sporadic gunfire filled the air, not sustained like before. Tiff guessed Frank and his men had everyone pinned in the cabin. As she approached closer and was able to see more through the trees, she saw Frank’s men. Some ran from cover to cover trying to get a better angle on the cabin’s windows and front door. Tiff heard a bang and saw a puff of smoke near one of the windows on the front porch of the cabin. Someone was still alive inside, they were shooting back. Tiff also realized she was in the line of fire of any stray bullets.

  She ducked into the trees on her left and continued moving forward, with Hank only a few yards away. Finally, she took cover behind a large tree and motioned for Hank to do the same. She looked right and saw that Pete was already behind a tree and aiming his rifle.

  Tiff counted the men scattered around the north side of the cabin. All were behind some kind of cover. At least two were behind the pump shed. A couple lay in depressions in the ground, directly in front of the cabin. More importantly, at least five men had their backs to Tiff, with no idea of what was moving up to their rear. Their focus was obviously on the cabin.