Enduring Grit: an EMP survival story (The Off Grid Survivor Book 3)

by Connor Mccoy

  Darber took another sip. “But then one day Kurt came to my door. He barely looked human. The flames had scorched his face. He asked for help. Of course, I would do anything I could for him. I couldn’t imagine the pain he felt. He was a man with nothing, no home, no property, no family.” Darber sighed.

  “But I’m not a plastic surgeon. I don’t know if even the best surgeon could have restored him, but I did what I could. I made sure he was in no danger physically. He thanked me. He said he understood, and what I had done was enough. He wanted me to be his doctor. I said, fine. I didn’t understand what that meant until later.”

  “I get the feeling Kurt got a lot more possessive for being a grateful patient,” Conrad said. “Your town looked a little locked up. And I’m guessing he’s the guy who owned that truck I saw run through town.”

  Darber nodded. “Kurt changed. He would call himself ‘Kurt the Phoenix.’ The Phoenix is a mythical bird that would die in flames, only to rise again, resurrected from the ashes. Kurt cast himself as something like a legendary figure, to inspire fear. There are more than enough desperate people who will listen to such a man. Before I knew it, he had gathered enough men to impose his will on my town.”

  Sarah scowled. “Another psychopath with a god complex.”

  Conrad narrowed his eyes. “We may have to get used to stories like this, Sarah. This is what happens when there’s no governing authority to stop such folks.”

  “Kurt is one of the worst,” Darber said. “He won’t forgive me for running out on him. He’ll want revenge. The thrashing you gave his men will just add more fuel to the fire. If we’re lucky, he’ll only set his sights on me. But with his men hurt and spurned off your land, I think the Phoenix will want more. He calls his wrath the ‘Touch of Hellfire.’”

  Nobody said anything. Darber sank his head over his knees.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll leave at once. I’m sure I’ll draw away Kurt’s men. I’ll take all the blame for it. I’ll explain I put you up to it. I bribed you, threatened you, anything to make it clear you’re not at fault.”

  Conrad took a step closer, allowing his shadow to fall over the doctor. “Ron, after what you just told us, there’s not a chance this guy is going to overlook us. And in any case, you leaving would just be throwing yourself to the wolves.”

  “So what? You have your family, a grandchild coming. You have everything in the world to protect.” Darber ran a hand over his scalp. “Besides, I led the trouble here. This is my fault. You owe me nothing. I don’t blame you if you’re furious at me.”

  “Now that’s enough,” Conrad said, “Sure, you left out some details. I would have appreciated the full story right off the bat, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have accepted you into my home. In any case, what’s done is done. I need you for the sake of my family.”

  Darber raised his head. “Are you sure?”

  “I won’t force you either way,” Conrad said. “It’s your choice.”

  “But what if they come?” Darber asked.

  Camilla pulled out her shotgun. “They’ll regret it within five seconds. Maybe four.”

  Darber shook. “Conrad…”

  “Look, you want the bottom line, Ron? In your hometown you were a prisoner. You may have been alive, but you still were nothing more than Kurt’s lapdog, and in my book that’s not much of a life. Sure, there’s going to be a ton of risk staying here and standing up to Mister Phoenix Arizona or whatever he calls himself…”

  Camilla laughed. “‘Mister Phoenix Arizona?’”

  “Hush, sweetie. Inspirational speech here,” Conrad said in deadpan tone. “The point is that we can protect you. I would say we can stop Kurt if he’s stupid enough to come making trouble. And once he’s gone, you won’t have to worry about what he thinks of you ever again. You’ll be a free man. I think that’s worth fighting for, even dying for. So, what’s the verdict?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  LANCE STIRRED FROM SLEEP A SWEATY, stinking mess. His arms ached. He had worn himself out from weeping, bemoaning his fate. And Juan was right, not having access to a restroom, or a hole in the ground, had not stopped him from using the bathroom. By this point, Lance begged whatever God was out there just to put him out of his misery.

  When the truck door suddenly opened, Lance thought he might get his wish.

  “Vander!” Blake shouted, “Don’t kill him!”

  Oh please, Lance thought, kill me now.

  A massive hand dragged the still-bound Lance out of the truck and slammed him against it. Lance ached so much already that he barely felt it.

  Vander was clutching him hard, with Blake grasping Vander’s left arm. “We need him alive to tell us everything he knows about this guy.”

  “He was supposed to tell us everything. He held back. He didn’t say there was another guy with a freaking taser!” Vander roared.

  Vander raised Lance high. To add further indignity to the situation, Lance’s pants fell down.

  Blake glowered at Lance. “You better come real clean, kid, because Vander’s hungry for blood, and it’s probably going to be yours. How many people does Conrad have on that ranch of his?”

  “I don’t know,” Lance said, whinny, pathetically. “There were two, three people shooting from the house. Then he showed up. There’s maybe four. I told you that already.”

  “Alright.” Blake clearly was suppressing his own rage. “You said you and a bunch of guys under Derrick Wellinger tried to kill Conrad and take the land. So, where are the other survivors? Maybe one of them knows more than you do.”

  Lance panted. “Um…let me think…uh, yeah, Cal! Cal and me, we got out of there, and Cal went to Wellinger’s ranch, to take it over. He might still be there. It’s not far. We can drive. I’ll show you.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Blake tapped Vander’s arm. “Drop him. He’s useful again.”

  Vander snarled at Lance one last time before placing him back on the grass. As Blake unlocked the driver’s side door, Juan pointed at Lance’s waist and chuckled.

  “Man, you peed yourself,” he said with a low laugh.

  Lance looked down at his exposed boxers. By now, with all the humiliation and hell he had suffered, he wasn’t sure whether to be glad he was alive or not. But at least he talked himself into living another day.

  DARBER SAT on the roll-out bed. He cast quick glances at the bag lying nearby, then at the front door. His fingers clawed deeply into the folds of the bed fabric. He knew the choice in front of him, yet he couldn’t pull the trigger.

  He thought of how different he and Conrad were. He was staying under the roof of a man who prepared for the worst, a decisive man who pulled together resources and cunning to create this livable pocket in a world gone sour. And what of Ron Darber? This whole disaster had left him a jittery mess. If he had not possessed valuable skills that others could use and provide him food and water in return, he would have died weeks ago. He had no survival knowledge to speak of beyond what the modern life afforded him. His skills as a doctor helped, but not that much.

  Damn it, he thought. I should have fled town the moment the catastrophe hit. I wouldn’t have been drawn into Kurt’s web. And I wouldn’t have drawn his men to Conrad’s home.

  Earlier, Darber had agreed to stay. But he had done so timidly, spoken only quickly enough to end the conversation and move on to the day’s other tasks. In truth, he still was not sure.

  As he faced the front door, he was less sure now than ever.

  Footsteps broke his concentration. Expecting Conrad, he jumped to his feet, but instead Sarah Sandoval rounded the corner. Letting out a soft breath, Darber sat back down.

  “Getting close to midnight,” Sarah said. “You’re still not tired?”

  “I could ask the same of you.” Darber looked closely at the holster on her belt, then at the shotgun in her hands. “I didn’t know Conrad enlisted you as his hired muscle.”

  “I volunteered,” Sarah said curtly. Then she approached him, he
r boots making thuds on the floor. “When you can’t dial 9-1-1 any longer, you pretty much have to be your own policeman, fireman and soldier.”

  “From what I heard of you, I didn’t imagine you’d be the type to take up a gun,” Darber said. “I guess you adapted pretty well to the new world.”

  “I adapted.” Sarah bit her lip. “Not well, but I adapted.”

  “I wasn’t given any details, but I was told you were imprisoned for a period. I’m guessing you haven’t had contact with a doctor since then. If you require any help, any examination…”

  “Doctor, I’ve been examined more than enough,” Sarah said.

  “I’m bound by confidentiality,” Darber added. “Again, if you need…”

  Sarah grasped her gun tighter. “I need nothing. Don’t worry. I was given enough food and water and nobody…” Her jaw tightened. “Nobody did anything else to me.”

  Darber got the message. Drop the subject and move on. “I’m glad to hear that.”

  Sarah’s eyes then focused on Darber’s closed bag. “Speaking of adapting, how are you holding up?”

  “About half as well as I’d like,” Darber replied.

  “I can understand. It sounds like you had a rough time with Kurt back home. Guess we both were prisoners of a kind, right?” Sarah’s hand grazed the edge of the bed. “So, what are you thinking about now?”

  Darber sighed. “My own inadequacies, I suppose. Your former husband sure knows how to make an impression. He has promised to protect me, but part of me wonders if that will be enough.”

  “So, you’re thinking of bailing out?” Sarah said. “Getting the hell out of Dodge? Going off on your own?”

  A tremor ran through Darber’s arms. “What makes you say that?”

  “I’ve been looking at you from the hall door. You kept staring back and forth from the door to your bag. I remember a few nights when I was trapped in Maggiano’s. I’d look at the wooden door to my room and think about busting it down. Maybe I could run away, but then I remembered the whole bloc of rooms was sealed off by metal doors. I guess I can tell when someone else wants to flee somewhere.”

  Darber nodded. “I suppose you have me dead to rights,” he said. “I can’t go back to Davies. There are a number of small towns close by, or perhaps a farm. Surely, I’d run into a place where nobody recognizes me, hiding out under a different name. Well, I suppose it’s better than leading them here.”

  “But they’ll still show up sooner or later, won’t they?” Sarah crossed her arms. “I don’t think you can un-crack the eggs here. I think Conrad knew that, too.”

  “Yes. Yes, I suppose so,” Darber said. “I thought leaving would count as doing something. I’m no soldier, no gunfighter, but I thought maybe at least luring them away would make up for leading Kurt’s men here. But I can’t do anything.”

  “Nothing except do what Conrad wants you to do, and if it means my grandchild will be born safe and healthy, I think that’s good enough.” Sarah looked down at her gun. “And if I have to stand guard at the door while you’re helping Carla push, then so be it.”

  Darber raised his head slightly. “Then I’ll do what I have to, for your family.” Then he stood up. “If you don’t mind, I’d like that refresher in gun usage that Conrad promised.”

  Sarah smiled a little. “Tomorrow. You need sleep, and I need to finish up my patrol for the night.”

  Darber nodded. “Right. As the Drake home’s resident physician, I should understand when the human body requires rest.”

  Then he sat back on his bed. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. And thanks for coming here. It means the world to us, to me,” Sarah replied.

  SARAH YAWNED DEEPLY before tilting her head up to look at herself in the mirror. Just one more patrol, she thought. She had eaten up a lot of time taking watch. At this rate, she’d sleep all the way past noon tomorrow.

  A familiar face glided into view behind her. “Hey,” Tom said, “Finally ready to get some sleep?”

  “God help me, I need it.” Sarah ran two hands across her face. She had taken off all her gear, plus her boots and socks, leaving her in a shirt and a pair of khakis. At least changing into bedclothes wouldn’t be hard now.

  “I thought I overheard you talking to the doctor,” Tom said, “Was there something wrong?”

  “No.” Sarah shook her head. “No, things were fine.”

  “No medical problems? I should have asked earlier. I guess life’s been a blur since we got away from Redmond.”

  Sarah sighed. “No, nothing like that.” She scratched her neck.

  Talking to Darber, conversing about adapting to this new world, had made her think a lot about herself. It was true her captivity had left no physical scars, but that didn’t mean some emotional damage wasn’t inflicted. Tom letting Marco take her was one thing, but she pretty much had put that aside. No, she had something else to tell Tom.

  As Tom sat on the bed, letting out a tired yawn, Sarah turned to him. “Actually, Doctor Darber has helped me work out some things.” She crossed her arms. “It’s been hard to get some things behind me. When I was trapped in Maggiano’s warehouse, Maggiano and Jack took very good looks over all the girls there, including me.”

  Tom sat up. “What do you mean? Sarah, what did they do?”

  Sarah shook her head gently. “Don’t worry, I told you they didn’t have their way with me. But there were days when they’d take everything off.” Sarah bristled. “Maggiano liked to be sure his women were in good shape. And if I understood him right, he sure thought I was.”

  Tom narrowed his eyes. “I wish I had run into him so I could have blown his brains out.”

  “Well, you did nail Marco.” Sarah smiled a bit. “But anyway, it’s been hard for me to be comfortable in my skin after that. I close my eyes, and I just feel like I’m being looked over. It’s like I’m naked in front of the world.”

  “Damn,” Tom said, “I’m sorry.”

  “But…” Sarah stepped back. “I can’t let that get in the way of us.”

  Tom held up a hand. “Sarah, I’m not asking a thing from you. I said that when we came here. You need time.”

  “Time.” Sarah peeled off her shirt, uncovering her black bra. “Tom, most of my life is probably over. We’re living in a world where we can get blown away by robbers, bandits, God knows what else.” Then she took off her pants, before adding, “I’ve taken all the time I can.”

  Sarah was down to her underwear. Then she fished behind her back to undo her bra. Tom spoke, “Sarah, you don’t have to…”

  He didn’t finish. Perhaps a part of him realized that Sarah needed this, to reconnect with him in this way. So he waited until she was finished.

  Sarah now stood before him in all her glory. “Well?” she asked.

  Tom stood up. He got very close to her, then said, “Unless we’re being invaded by an army, I’m afraid Conrad will have to do without us for a while.”

  Sarah grinned.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CAL WHITTEN WAS LIVING a good life.

  Well, at least it was a good life compared to what he had had before. For nine years after he graduated high school, he made a living as a truck driver. Cal originally had hoped for a higher paying job, but as it turned out, just about every big business needed one of their goods or products shipped somewhere, across town, to another city, across the state, or even next door to somewhere like South Dakota or Kansas.

  The EMP blast from the sun changed all that. Cal’s delivery truck was turned into a stationary hulk of metal that couldn’t go anywhere. And that was the end of Cal’s career as a truck driver. It was almost the end of his life as well. With electronics shot to Hell, the world suddenly fell into chaos, and Cal had to find jobs that would pay in food or water.

  Derrick Wellinger was one man offering such jobs, only he promised much more than anyone else was boasting. All Cal Whitten had to do was storm another guy’s property and take it from him, with the
help of a small cabal of other men.

  Unfortunately, the siege didn’t work out well. Men all around Cal were felled. Whoever was living on Conrad Drake’s ranch didn’t take kindly to the intrusion. Cal resented Derrick for not telling them they’d be outclassed like that. Fortunately, Conrad or one of his cohorts took care of the problem – they killed Derrick.

  Cal rubbed his greasy moustache with the back of his hand as he looked around the living room, the room that was once Derrick’s. It turned out to be a nice bit of compensation for nearly getting his ass blown away.

  The soft thumps of a wooden cane drew Cal’s attention. Kendall was hobbling inside the room, using a cane to help himself along. His leg still was wrapped in a dull white bandage just under his knee. Kendall was one of Cal’s partners in the ranch siege, but he didn’t fare so well, having taken a shot in the arm Kendall managed to patch up the wound, but the bullet remained in his body. The once young man started looking gaunt and sickly, and the fact that he was stupid enough to be shot again, this time for trying to steal crops, didn’t help. Cal agreed to let Kendall stay in the house in exchange for labor, but at this rate Kendall was sure to kick off, either from lead poisoning or getting killed in another stupid run at Hooper City’s crops.

  “Did you finish drawing the well?” Cal asked.

  “Yeah.” Kendall frowned, but then again, the man’s face seemed frozen in the same bitter expression since he had arrived here. The man obviously had a lot to complain about nowadays. “Damn near killed me to do it.”

  Cal stared at Kendall’s leg. “Maybe if you weren’t so damn stupid to go after Hooper City’s storehouse with just one partner at your side, you wouldn’t have been shot in the leg.”