After the EMP- The Hope Trilogy

by Harley Tate

  “The girls are in the main building, second floor. Tracy and Barry, you’ll take the east exterior door. Peyton and Anne, the west. Larkin and Dani will clear the first floor. Colt and I will clear the second. As soon as we find Madison and Brianna, we’re coming out and we’re getting the hell out of here.”

  “What if we get caught?” Anne glanced over at her husband. “Do we start shooting?”

  Barry nodded. “We follow the plan. Shoot all hostiles. Leave the rest.”

  They talked logistics for a few minutes until everyone was sure of the plan before breaking off into pairs. Walter and Colt took the lead, running just inside the tree line toward the western exterior door. Unlike most motels, the rooms were interior facing with only windows facing the parking lot.

  On the one hand, it meant they could search concealed from the outside, but on the other it made escape that much more difficult. On the count of three, Walter yanked open the door. All was quiet. Dani and Larkin eased past him and slipped into the darkness of the hall.

  Walter took one last look at his wife and followed them inside. He had to stay strong, not just for Madison, but for Tracy, too. If they couldn’t save their daughter, he had to ensure his wife made it out of there alive.

  The dark enveloped him and he grimaced as the smell of stale cigarettes, old grease, and dirty socks hit his nose. Even after the apocalypse women and kids didn’t live like this. The main building must have been the bachelor quarters.

  He clamped his mouth shut and breathed through his nose as they eased down the hall. The only light filtering in came from the slim glass windows in the exterior doors. They illuminated just enough to be dangerous. It was too easy to miss a man pressed tight against the wall.

  Fifteen steps inside, Walter spotted the sign for the stairs and motioned toward it.

  Larkin nodded and took up position on the far side of the door with Dani guarding the hall. Colt opened the door. It squeaked on rusty hinges and Walter winced. Larkin and Dani might have the toughest job of all. He nodded at them both before slipping into the stairwell behind Colt.

  He eased the door closed and Colt flicked on a tactical flashlight mounted to his Sig. He whispered as they climbed the stairs. “This is giving me the creeps.”

  “Same here. Shouldn’t half this place be awake by now?”

  “Maybe looting and pillaging and living by a lake has its advantages.”

  “Don’t go getting any ideas. We need you to man the wheelbarrow in the spring.”

  The stairs ended at a landing littered in cigarette butts and empty beer cans. Colt sidestepped the mess and turned off his light. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Now let’s find your daughter and Brianna and get the hell out of here.”

  He counted to three and pulled open the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  MADISON

  Donner Lake

  8:00 a.m.

  Madison turned and a spiderweb coated in dust enveloped her face. A mummified insect landed on her cheek. She bit back a scream and brushed the sticky fibers and decay away with her uninjured hand.

  Even if they managed to rig up a hot shower somewhere, it would never fully wash the memory of the ventilation shaft from her mind. Tight spaces had never bothered her. She excelled at hide and seek as a kid, always finding the finest closet or space to hide inside, staying quiet and breathless under the bed while her mom tried to find her.

  But a shaft barely big enough to slither through covered in fifty years of dirt and insects was too much, even for her. Sweat coated her face and dampened her shirt and turned the space inside her boots to rank puddles of stink.

  At the first T of the shaft, Brianna had wiggled herself backward and waited for Madison to take the lead. Now she tapped her on the ankle and whispered. “I need a break.”

  Madison twisted, shoving her butt against the shaft wall and angling her head down enough to look at her best friend. The weak flashlight beam lit up Brianna’s face covered in sweat and dirt. Her cheeks heaved from effort and dried tears tracked through the grime like abandoned creek beds in the winter.

  Her injured leg and concussion weren’t making this easy, but they had no choice. Madison’s own hand screamed in pain every time she bumped it. Her head still ached from the blow to the temple.

  “We can’t stop. We have to find an empty room and get out of this thing.”

  Brianna nodded. “I just need to catch my breath. I never thought it would be so hot up here without the heat on.”

  “We’re on the second floor. We’ve got all the heat rising from below and the sun beating down from above. It’s probably the warmest place in the whole building.”

  “Remind me of that if we ever make it out of here. If we ever need to keep from freezing to death, we just need to crawl into a ventilation shaft.”

  “I’d rather freeze.” Madison turned back around. “There’s got to be a grate up here. Come on.”

  She shimmied through the dust, keeping the flashlight pinned to a small circle beside her face. It gave her just enough light to see a few feet ahead, but hopefully not enough to broadcast their existence.

  Madison slowed as a junction in the shaft loomed. She eased up and clicked off the light before pulling herself into the split. A grate. Five feet down a sub-shaft, holes in a vent grate lit up with artificial light.

  It could be their way out.

  Madison twisted around. “There’s a grate. I’m checking it out.”

  The shaft wasn’t wide enough for both Madison and Brianna to fit, so Madison crawled toward the grate alone, sliding a knee and an elbow at a time, slowly enough to muffle any sound. As she neared the light, a voice cut through the dust.

  “Christ, Kenny, that hurt.”

  Madison shied back. She didn’t have to see the man to know who was speaking. It was Silas, the man she helped. The man who would have bled out if she hadn’t used a tourniquet around his leg.

  How did he thank her? By cracking her in the side of the head, breaking her fingers, and dragging her back to his camp like a caveman with a bounty. She steeled herself and eased forward, mindful of the need for stealth. If Silas heard her, he might shoot first and not bother to ask any questions.

  As she neared the grate, the far side of the room came into view. Silas sat in a chair, legs spread out in front of him, a bottle of liquor propped on his good thigh. His wounded leg was exposed, blood oozing down his bare skin and dripping onto the carpet.

  Madison forced a dusty swallow.

  Another man she presumed to be Kenny stood beside Silas holding a red Solo cup and something metal in his hands. Madison squinted to try and see, wishing for binoculars or a scope.

  “I can’t get it out unless I find it.” Kenny leaned over Silas’s leg and jammed whatever he was holding into the bullet wound. Silas clutched the bottle so tight his knuckles flared white and he stared up at the ceiling in obvious pain.

  His good leg thumped the ground.

  Kenny scolded him. “Hold still, for God’s sake.”

  “Just. Find. It.” Silas gritted out the words behind clenched teeth.

  Madison fought the urge to retch. She didn’t see any medical equipment in the room. From what she could tell, Kenny was digging around in Silas’s thigh with a pair of regular tweezers from someone’s bathroom. The only disinfectant was the liquor bottle.

  Kenny pulled back up with a grimace. “I can’t get it. I keep hittin’ your bone. It’s got to be buried too deep.”

  Silas sucked in a trembling breath. His whole face paled and he struggled to bring the bottle to his lips. After drinking a swig he poured a shaky stream onto his bullet wound, groaning and stomping the ground with his good leg as the liquor poured over his thigh.

  No wonder they wanted the pharmacy. Madison leaned back. If he hadn’t turned on her when he found out about the car accident, Madison would have helped him. She would have insisted that they use their supplies to clean the wound and find the bullet.

  Even
the limited knowledge of everyone at the Cliftons’ place would have been better than this. She forced a wave of acid down her throat. It didn’t have to go like this at all. But the longer it did, the better chance Madison and Brianna had of escape. She pulled back, ready to move on and find another grate, when a door slammed.

  “About damn time.”

  “I should save these supplies and let you sit here, bleeding to death.”

  Madison eased forward. An older man stood beside Silas, holding a plastic shopping bag stuffed with boxes and bottles. His hair grayed at the temples and flowed down his back in wavy mats, and his beard touched his chest.

  The gravel in his voice spoke of years of hard living and cigarettes, and the scar running across the back of his hand added to the image. He leaned over Silas with a face full of disgust. “You failed yesterday.”

  Silas shifted in his seat, physical pain temporarily displaced by the older man’s words. “I came back alive. And I brought hostages. More than I can say for anyone else.”

  “You should have captured the drugs.” He shook the bag. “Not just a few handouts.”

  Silas wiped at his mouth. “You should never have sent Nathan in your place. He started the whole damn mess.”

  “Don’t you speak ill of your uncle.”

  “I’m speaking the truth.” Silas leaned forward and held the bottle up for emphasis. “He shot one of theirs in the back. That’s what started it. If he hadn’t been such an idiot, we’d have taken them.”

  The older man backhanded Silas across the cheek. “Enough!”

  Silas licked at a spot of blood pooling in the corner of his mouth and didn’t say a word. The older man began to pace, stalking back and forth in front of Silas.

  After a few moments, Kenny spoke up. “Did Silas tell you about the women?”

  He turned and pinned Kenny with a stare. “He did. And we have plans for them.”

  Madison’s blood turned cold. Plans. She knew what that meant. The older man must have been the leader the Cliftons had warned them about all those months ago. The elder Cunningham himself.

  We have to get out of here. If he was that cold to Silas, what would he do to Madison and Brianna? Two members of the group who shot up his family. Two young women in a sea of men.

  Panic filled her as horrible images paraded across her imagination. Dirty hands. Filthy sheets. No escape.

  No one knew where they were. No one would be coming to save them. For all Madison knew, everyone else in her family was already dead. If she didn’t get Brianna out of that ventilation shaft and out of that motel, they would suffer a fate way worse than the scene playing out before her.

  Her heart beat so loud she couldn’t hear the men below and sweat broke across her palms. Madison backpedaled, hurrying down the shaft toward the junction and Brianna. As she tried to turn the corner, her sweater caught on an exposed screw. No! They couldn’t waste any time. They had to go. Now.

  She yanked her arm, desperately trying to free herself. It wouldn’t budge. Madison pulled harder, jerking her arm up and down. The fabric ripped and her arm flew back. Her fist slammed into the top of the shaft. The metal warbled and the sound carried to the grate.

  “What was that?”

  “It sounded like the air duct.”

  “Check it out. Now!”

  The men’s voices carried and panic overcame her. Madison scrambled down the shaft. “We have to go now!”

  Brianna struggled to keep up with Madison as she low-crawled down the shaft away from the men. Everything had gone so wrong. First the pharmacy, then the ambush, now this. They might never make it out of the motel alive.

  She might never get to scoop up Fireball in her arms and nuzzle his soft fur or pet Lottie as she curled up on her lap. Hug her parents. Tend to the garden. Madison shoved it all down and increased her speed, forgetting all about the need to stay quiet. The shaft opened up into a four-way split and she slowed to catch her breath.

  “Slow down! I can’t keep up!” Brianna hurried to meet her, wincing with every drag of her injured leg.

  “We can’t!” Madison twisted around in a panic. She didn’t know which way to go. She didn’t know how to get out. To her right, another grate beckoned. She motioned toward it. “There! We can get out there!”

  “We don’t know who’s in there. We need to scope it out.”

  “No time!” Madison hurried toward it and Brianna followed, reaching for her legs.

  “Stop! Madison, no!” Brianna’s fingers wrapped around Madison’s calf, but Madison shook her friend off.

  Visions of Silas all over her, pawing at her clothes and doing whatever he wanted filled her mind and she couldn’t keep them at bay. She knew what they intended to do and she wasn’t going to let that happen.

  Those men wouldn’t get her. She reached for the grate just as Brianna reached for her thigh. The other girl clambered on top of her, beating her with her fists. “Stop panicking!”

  The metal buckled.

  Madison turned. “Get off me!”

  “Not until you stop!” Brianna crawled forward again. The weight of both of them in the shaft, scrunched in like sardines, was too much.

  “Get back!”

  “Stop fighting!”

  Madison shifted and that was it. The metal gave, screws stripped, and both girls screamed. They fell through the ductwork and insulation. Through drywall and paint and dust. It only took a handful of seconds, but it stretched on in Madison’s mind forever. When her body hit the ground, she blacked out.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  WALTER

  Cunningham Compound

  9:00 a.m.

  Four rooms down. At least ten to go. Walter motioned with two fingers to move forward and Colt nodded. So far, they hadn’t found a single Cunningham. He was beginning to doubt the intelligence from the sentry back at the checkpoint. Had the man lied to protect his family? Were they on a wild goose chase while Madison and Brianna were being tortured in some outbuilding? Had they already died in a snowmobile crash?

  He approached the next room and Colt tried the handle. It opened with ease. A wide shaft of morning light lit up an empty bed and dust-covered table. Another empty room. More wasted time.

  The plan was all wrong. He stepped closer to Colt. “We should go back. I think this is a decoy.”

  “We should clear every room to be sure.”

  Walter opened his mouth to argue when a voice cut through the stillness. “Check it out. Now!”

  Before Walter could even think to seek cover, a massive crash sounded down the hall. Doors flew open, banging against the wall and swinging back on their hinges. The place wasn’t empty, after all.

  Light from rooms with open windows lit up the hall in a zigzag, distorted by the hulking shadows of at least seven or eight men. Walter leaned close to the shadows, rifle tight against his shoulder, head down and ready. Colt sidestepped across the hall, mirroring Walter’s position on the other side as a rush of bodies appeared.

  Walter took aim on a skinny guy with his head on swivel. Two shots and he crumpled to the floor. Colt’s work took out the next man, a real beefcake wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and tube socks.

  The two bodies clogged the floor, but the men kept coming.

  A gun fired in Walter’s direction and a bullet pierced the wallpaper above his head. They were sitting ducks in the open.

  “Take cover!” Colt ducked back to the nearest cleared room and took up position from the corner, firing a series of shots before sneaking back behind the doorjamb.

  Walter fired again before retreating, taking out a young guy of no more than twenty. “Madison!” He shouted above the din, hoping if his daughter could hear that she would know they were there to save her.

  Colt volleyed another round of shots and another man fell to the ground. Walter leaned out and fired, straining to see through the haze and the bodies. Four down, three or four to go.

  Colt shouted across the hall. “They’r
e ducking into a room on my side.” He tried to fire, but more shots rang out. Bullet holes pocked the wall outside Colt’s door.

  Walter called out. “How far?”

  “Five rooms away.”

  Walter leaned forward and fired. A round hit a man’s thigh as he ducked inside an open door. Walter hoped he hit the femoral.

  That left at least two uninjured. Maybe more. He swapped out his magazine and sucked in a lungful of air before leaning out again. The hall was still.

  He waited, breath hot and thick as he heaved. Come on out. I know you’re in there. Walter stared at the light from the open doors. No shadows. No movement.

  They couldn’t have killed them all. What were they waiting for? He counted to three and took a chance, running across the hall to join Colt on the other side.

  “There’s at least two left.”

  Colt nodded. “They must be holed up in a room. What was that crash?’

  “No idea.” Walter wiped the sweat off his forehead. “But we need to keep moving.”

  A series of gunshots erupted from below them. Walter jerked. “Larkin and Dani.”

  Colt cursed. “There are too many of them. If they breach the stairs, it’s over.”

  Walter refused to give up. “We can do this.”

  Colt patted at his chest pocket. “We can smoke them out.”

  “Do it.” Walter watched as Colt pulled out two ping-pong balls covered in aluminum foil with an inch-long spout at the top. He used a lighter to heat the bottom of both until smoke began to pour from the openings, and then he launched them as far as possible down the hall.

  They landed halfway between their position and the door where the men retreated. The smoke wafted through the hall, growing thicker by the second. When it obscured enough of the hallway for them to advance, Walter and Colt eased from the safety of the empty room.