Pilgrimage_A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Story

by Tom Abrahams

  It was a lot of money.

  He shoved the thought from his mind before it could fully materialize. He’d get his cut and that would suffice. Plus, he reasoned, who knew if cash would have any value in another couple of weeks if the power didn’t come back.

  It took him less than an hour to get back to Nanticoke. He knew he shouldn’t have stopped. Kepler warned him not to do it. But he couldn’t help himself. The nectar was too sweet, the siren’s song too powerful. Besides, he had more than four hours to kill before meeting Kepler in Wilkes-Barre. It shouldn’t take him more than two hours to get there. That was more than enough time for what he had in mind.

  He rapped his hands on the steering wheel and looked at the small home in front of him. It was dark and the driveway was empty. That meant Lana was home alone. He could use a little more of her before he ran back to his boss or his wife.

  Reggie leaned over and opened the glove box. He pulled out a small bottle and shook out a blue pill. He popped it in his mouth and swallowed it dry. Laughing to himself, anticipating the fun he was about to have, he shoved the bottle back in the glove box and hopped out of the truck. Reggie bounded up to the front door. It was unlocked, so he pushed his way inside.

  Familiar with the home’s modest layout, he walked past the living room and kitchen and along the narrow hall that led to the bedroom. He stepped lightly, not wanting to wake his conquest. But the floor creaked as he passed the bathroom.

  The creak was immediately followed by the sound of mattress springs crunching. “Who’s there?” Lana whispered. “Vincent? That you?”

  She was in the doorway, in a tank top and matching bottoms, before Reggie could answer. And before he could do anything about it, she was barreling her shoulder into his chest, knocking him backward.

  “Who the—” she screamed as her arms flailed against the intruder. “Get the—”

  “It’s me,” Reggie said, grabbing her wrists with both of his hands. He managed to gain his balance against the wall. “It’s Reggie. Chill!”

  He pressed her, arms above her head, against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway. She spat in his face before registering what he’d just said, her knee about to thrust upward when she heard him.

  “Reggie?” She stopped struggling against him. “Seriously? Why wouldn’t you—”

  He pressed his mouth against hers, muting her complaints.

  She relaxed against his body, returning the kiss with aggression.

  This was their dance, oblivious to the world around them. Lost in their passion, they didn’t consider the risks.

  CHAPTER 40

  EVENT +95:08 Hours

  Sweet Valley, Pennsylvania

  Steve Driggers heard the noise first. It sounded like the generator was struggling. He was in bed, his eyes open, listening to the sounds.

  At first, he thought it was the generator for the main house. But the rumble was too distant.

  The barn?

  He checked the tablet next to his bed and punched open the security app, checking the cameras and their status. It was connected to a low-power transmitter on the property that acted as a private, narrow-band Wi-Fi signal. It was just strong enough to let the security system communicate with itself.

  “What’s wrong?” Kosia rolled over, touching her husband’s back. “Is everything okay?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, scrolling through to the right page. “I thought the generator surged.” He tapped the screen again and then sat up to make sure he was reading it correctly.

  “What do you mean?” Kosia sat up too, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The tablet’s bright screen made it difficult to focus.

  “Somebody’s here,” he said. The security application indicated a temporary power loss. The system was running on a battery backup. But it was only one generator that failed. The others were running properly. They’d suffered no interruption. And from what the system was telling him, the perimeter fence was still electrified. “They’re in the barn.”

  “Could it be one of our guests?” Kosia reasoned, seeing the red alert box at the top of the screen.

  “No.” Steve shook his head. “They know the alarm is set. Plus, none of them would have a reason to go into the barn. There’s plenty of food in the main house, and James has what he needs in the guest cottage.” He touched another button to check the series of cameras. They were working. He rewound the recordings past the white noise to six minutes earlier. He couldn’t see anything in any of them until—

  “See that?” He pointed to a camera aimed at the generator at the side of the main house. “Somebody just moved past the camera! Well, they did about six minutes ago.”

  “What do we do?” Kosia had her wits about her now. “Do we do anything?”

  “Hang on.” He switched to a camera at the northwestern corner of the property. Its lens was aimed at the generator powering the barn. He watched twenty seconds of stop motion before he saw the figure move into the frame behind the generator. “There he is again! He’s at the barn generator.” Steve held the tablet so Kosia could see it and together they watched the figure move to the wall of the barn. The glowing white image stood and opened the door to the automatic transfer switch. Then the screen turned black before the white noise replaced it for thirty seconds. When the image returned, there was nobody there.

  “He’s in the barn,” he said. “No doubt. Someone is stealing from us.”

  “How would anybody know?” Kosia asked. “How would they know?”

  “I don’t know.” Steve pulled the covers from his body and hopped from the bed. “But I’m not letting it happen.”

  “Steve,” she said, “is that a good idea?”

  “Probably not.” He shrugged, pulling on a pair of shorts. He reached into a drawer next to the bed and pulled out a revolver. He checked the cylinder to make sure it was loaded. “Get Connor and get into the basement.”

  ***

  Max Rockwell knew somebody was outside the open bedroom window. Despite the constant hum of the generator, he could hear someone shuffling around.

  Max gently pulled the thin sheet from his body and quietly tiptoed to the window. He looked straight down in time to see someone in black running toward the pool. He couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. He wasn’t even one hundred percent certain it was a person.

  He stood there for a moment, his head outside the window, listening for anymore sounds. There was nothing at first, and he was about to go back to bed, convinced what he’d seen was an animal, when there was a rumble in the distance.

  It was coming from the back of the property, near the barn. It sounded like a generator had stopped, the ubiquitous hum somewhat less loud.

  He listened for another thirty seconds and heard the generator roar back to life. Something weird was happening, he thought to himself.

  I better tell my dad.

  Max slipped on some shorts, switched T-shirts, and then pulled on some shoes. He was moving toward the bedroom door when his mother’s voice stopped him.

  “Maxwell,” she whispered, “what are you doing?”

  Max turned, his hand hovering above the door handle, and sighed. He backed up and walked over to his mother. She was on her side, tucked under a blanket, facing the door.

  “I gotta go get Dad,” Max whispered, sidling up to his mom.

  “Why?” Leigh propped herself up on an elbow. “It’s the middle of the night, Max.”

  “I heard something outside,” Max admitted. “I think somebody’s here.”

  “So your instinct is to go running outside?” Leigh’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think so.”

  “But what if they’re stealing stuff?” Max pressed. “What if they break into Dad’s cottage? Shouldn’t we let him know?” Max pleaded with his eyes.

  “Fine,” she whispered, “but I’m coming with you. Wait for me.” She shooed Max away from the bed so she could get up and throw on some clothes.

  ***

  Steve walked
down the stairs to the first floor, one hand wrapped around the revolver, the other on the bannister, guiding him down to the foyer.

  He had the tablet tucked in his back, and when he got to the front door, he stopped to check it. He set the tablet down on a small table by the front door and then used a keypad on the wall to disable the alarm.

  Steve thumbed the door open and slowly pulled inward. He stepped past the threshold onto the porch, leaving the door open.

  He stood on the stoop. Quiet. Listening.

  Hearing nothing, he stepped off the porch and turned right toward the path leading between the main house and the cottage. He moved quickly, the gun leveled at chest height. His eyes swept left and right as he pressed forward toward the barn.

  He passed the cottage and moved to the open area adjacent to the pool. Feeling exposed, he hid behind the aged, thick trunk of a sycamore. He was facing east, toward the pool. He peeked around the trunk to his right; he could barely make out the front of the barn. The moon was unobstructed, but wasn’t full enough to illuminate the yard.

  Steve stood in the darkness, trying to slow his heartbeat with even breathing through his nose.

  In. Out. In. Out.

  It wasn’t helping. He could feel his heart racing through the pulsing thump in his neck. He wondered if he’d made the right decision by leaving the safety of his house.

  ***

  Kosia started to knock on the Rockwells’ bedroom door when it swung open. The women and the sons on either side of the doorway were startled.

  “Kosia.” Leigh sucked in a breath. “Are you okay?”

  “We’re moving to the basement,” she said. “Steve heard something outside. He thinks it’s best if we’re downstairs.”

  “I heard it too,” blurted Max. “We were going to tell my dad.”

  Kosia looked at Max and then at Leigh. “You should join us in the basement. Get Sloane too. I can help you if you need it.”

  “No.” Leigh shook her head. “I’ll get her, thanks. What about the Kelly family and the Starlings?”

  “They’re already on their way downstairs,” Kosia explained. “Everybody’s going to the basement.”

  “Tell you what.” Leigh reconsidered. “I’ll take you up on your offer. Can you grab Sloane? If somebody is out there, I don’t want James to be the only one in the dark. Max and I will get him. Then we’ll meet you in the basement.”

  “I don’t know,” Kosia said. “Even the men are going in the basement. Steve is the only one—”

  “Kosia.” Leigh was polite but firm. “I appreciate that. But I’m not leaving my sick husband alone. Especially if your husband thought it important enough that everyone else hide in the basement.”

  ***

  James Rockwell blinked his eyes open and focused on the wainscoted ceiling high above him. He wasn’t sure if the commotion he heard was real or in his dream. He lay in bed, listening for any sounds other than the rhythmic hum and burp of the generator.

  Nothing.

  He closed his eyes, trying to think himself back to sleep.

  Since his conversation with Steve earlier in the day, he’d been preoccupied with the thought that whatever happened nearly four days earlier was more than met the proverbial eye. It was nagging at him in the way that he felt unsettled when forgetting his place in a conversation. There was something out of sorts. But he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  And then, as he stared at the ceiling, his mind drifted to his family’s last night on Peaks Island. They’d stayed up late watching the Perseid meteor shower, mesmerized by the intermittent streaks of fire across the New England sky.

  There’s something to it.

  James pressed his memory, squeezing his eyes to think of lessons past. He’d taken some astronomy courses in college. They were required for a degree in physics. Space and time weren’t his area of expertise, but he had better than a yeoman’s knowledge of astronomical theories.

  He recalled a Venn diagram about comets and asteroids from a survey course. Meteors were gas and dust in the tails of comets. Sometimes they’d contain metals, especially iron, but they were typically little more than burning dirt.

  Asteroids were typically larger. They were rock and metal; the surface wouldn’t burn off during an atmospheric entry as it would for most small meteors.

  Comets and asteroids, he knew from that simple diagram, shared some qualities. Both orbit the sun. Both are active parts of the solar system, likely leftover from its creation. Both are irregular in shape and too small to be considered planets. And both have crashed into Earth.

  Could it be?

  It was possible, he reasoned. An asteroid hitting the ocean would explain the tsunami. It would account for the chaos along the Eastern Seaboard.

  It wouldn’t, he thought, be responsible for the breadth of the power outage, however. That had all the signs of an electromagnetic pulse. And wouldn’t they have known about an asteroid heading toward the planet? Didn’t the government track such things?

  He stared blankly at the ceiling, trying to clear his head.

  It just doesn’t make sense.

  James closed his eyes again, letting out a deep breath. He needed to get back to sleep. He was drifting off when he heard someone yelling and the cottage door swung open with a bang.

  ***

  Steve was half hidden behind the tree when he heard the barn door creak open. He was glad he’d neglected greasing it. He peeked around the trunk and saw four figures stumbling over each other to get out of the barn.

  Almost immediately, the security alarm started blaring from the main house. It was wailing an alternating high and low pitch. Steve knew it would sound for thirty seconds before going silent.

  The alarm caught the attention of the four burglars. Steve saw they were all carrying bags with them. From their size, they all appeared to be men. Steve thought about approaching them, but didn’t. He couldn’t tell, in the shadows, if they were armed.

  Three of the men turned toward the back fence, running west away from the main house. The fourth, however, was running straight toward him. In an instant, he darted past Steve, running between the cottage and the house. The man, dressed in black, was lugging a pillowcase as he ran. Steve froze for a moment and then shook loose the fear.

  “Hey!” he yelled at the man, who he saw look over his shoulder as he bolted toward the parking circle in front of the main house. “Stop! Stop! I’ll shoot you if you don’t stop!”

  Steve unglued his feet and started chasing the thief. He had the gun at shoulder level and was ready to fire as he split the cottage and main house. Just as he centered his aim on the man’s back, he saw two figures in his peripheral vision.

  He almost bowled over Max, who was steps from the cottage with his mom. But he avoided him and kept running. He tripped on a thick oak root to the right of the circular drive, but managed to keep his balance. He was closing in on the burglar as they approached the main fence at Route 4024.

  The electrical fence will stop him!

  Steve slowed his run as he neared the fence. He stopped and aimed, ready to fire. He knew the fence would slow the man as he tried to grab it.

  That didn’t happen. Instead, the man grabbed the top of the fence, disregarding the razor wire, and like a steeplechase champion, scaled the fence, landing in the drainage culvert on the other side.

  Steve lowered the weapon and darted for the fence. He got there as the man was crossing the road toward a truck. He knew the distance wasn’t optimal for a revolver. His accuracy would suffer. But Steve took aim at the man’s head and fired a single shot.

  ***

  “Dad!” Max yelled at James as he threw open the cabin door. “Somebody’s here! They broke in. Mr. Driggers has a gun!”

  “Rock!” Leigh burst across the threshold. She and her son raced to James’s bedside before he could sit up. Both of them were huffing, talking over one another. He couldn’t make sense of it.

  “Okay.” He tried to calm them.
“One at a time. I can’t—”

  Pow!

  “Was that a gunshot?” asked Leigh, her eyes wide enough for James to see the whites, even in the dark.

  “Yes.” James pushed himself up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “That was a gunshot.”

  “What are you doing?” asked Leigh. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

  “There shouldn’t be any gunshots,” James countered, walking stiffly toward the open door. “You stay here.”

  “Right,” said Max, “like I’m staying inside.” The twelve-year-old disregarded his father’s orders and followed him outside. Leigh trailed a step behind.

  James looked southeast, toward the main gate. He couldn’t see anything. It was too dark. He stepped off the stoop and walked toward the main house, using the path that led to the circular drive. Standing on the porch was Connor, the Driggerses’ son, and Mitch, the Kellys’ boy.

  “Did you see anything?” James called to them when he was close enough not to yell.

  “No,” said Mitch. “We heard the yelling and then the gunshot. So we came out here to see what happened.”

  “I thought you were in the basement?” Leigh asked, stepping next to her husband.

  “We didn’t make it down there,” explained Connor. “My mom and the Starlings are down there with Molly. We came back up to get water from the refrigerator. Mr. Starling was thirsty. The alarm went off. That’s when we—”

  “Connor?” It was Steve Driggers, walking up to the house. “Is that you? Why are you out here? Why is everybody out here?” He was walking with the gun at his side.

  “What happened?” asked Connor.

  “Are you okay?” James stepped toward the vet, his eyes on the gun. “I’m assuming you’re the one who fired the shot.”

  “Yeah.” Steve walked up the steps onto the porch. “It was me.”

  “What happened, Dad?” Connor repeated.

  “I shot him.”

  CHAPTER 41