Surviving The Collapse Super Boxset: EMP Post Apocalyptic Fiction

by J. S. Donovan

  All of the bikers placed bets on who would shoot first, laughing, egging both of them on to get it over with.

  “Don’t be a pussy!”

  “C’mon, pull the trigger!”

  “Kill him!”

  Mike couldn’t lift the pistol. It was dead weight in his hand. Across from him was the man who raised him. His father was the one who taught him wrong from right. He was the one who made him the man he was today—a good man.

  There were times when Ulysses was harder than the steel that poured from Pittsburgh’s mills, but he could say one word to make everything all right.

  If Mike didn’t shoot his father or his father shoot him, then his daughter would die. He struggled, trying to bring the pistol up from his waist. His entire arm was shaking.

  “I’m getting bored, boys,” Jake said.

  Mike finally forced the gun up. His index finger went to the trigger, barely touching the small sliver of steel. Ulysses’s head was lined up in the sights. Tears started to well up in Mike’s eyes. They streamed down his face. He couldn’t keep the gun steady.

  “Dad,” Mike said.

  “It’s okay, Son.”

  Mike’s knuckles turned white against the black composite of the handle. He squeezed the grip so hard he thought it would crush in his hand. He knew what he had to do, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, and as the gun dropped to his side, he stood there crying, shaking his head.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t do it. Dad, I can’t do it,” Mike said.

  His father’s figure was blurred through the tears pouring form his eyes. Mike looked to Kalen, who was sobbing. His family was falling apart. He couldn’t save them. Everything he’d done, all he had sacrificed was for naught.

  “Michael,” Ulysses said.

  His father looked calm. A faint smile grew on his face. It wasn’t a smile of happiness, but one of pain.

  “I love you,” Ulysses said.

  Mike couldn’t hear his own screams above the sound of the gun when Ulysses put the pistol to his temple and squeezed the trigger.

  Ulysses lay collapsed on the ground. He was nothing more than a pile of flesh, lifeless and motionless. Everything was silent with the exception of the high-pitched hum of the ringing in his ears from the sound of the pistol.

  Frankie ripped the pistol from Mike’s hand and put the barrel to the back of his head.

  “Congratulations. You’ve moved on to the next round. Too bad it’s sudden death,” Frankie said.

  Mike saw Kalen, who was crying hysterically, crumpling to a heaped mess on the floor. This was the world now. This was what happened to people when they had something of value; it was taken from them.

  “Good-bye, asshole,” Frankie said.

  Before Frankie could squeeze the trigger, the ringing in Mike’s ears was replaced by another sound. He turned his head to the east, and he could see lights in the distance, moving quickly toward the town.

  Mike felt the barrel of the gun removed from his head.

  “What the hell?” Frankie said.

  “Move some of the cars, block the road!” Jake shouted.

  Frankie started to run off, but Jake called him back.

  “Secure them first,” Jake yelled.

  A few of the bikers helped Frankie drag them back to the sheriff’s office, tossing them in separate cells.

  Jake’s crew managed to move four cars, staggering them across Main Street.

  “When it slows down, aim for the tires,” Jake ordered.

  “It’s a Jeep!” Frankie shouted.

  When the Jeep came within shooting range, it didn’t slow down. It sped up.

  “Fire!” Jake said.

  The Jeep smashed through the first car, the front crumpling, but still moved forward. It swerved to try and miss the second, but was met by the gang’s gunfire.

  The bullets blew out the driver’s-side tire, and the Jeep lost control, flipping onto its side, and skidded into another one of the parked cars.

  Tank was the first person who made it to the Jeep. When he looked inside, he saw the kids crying in the backseat. Jung was stirring awake, and Jenna was motionless.

  “There’re kids in here!” Tank shouted.

  Tank unbuckled Claire first and then grabbed Jung Jr. Both of them were screaming for their parents as Tank set them on the sidewalk, making sure they were okay.

  He pressed his finger to Jenna’s neck, trying to feel a pulse, but there was nothing. The side of her head was covered in blood. He unbuckled her and pulled her from the Jeep, laying her away from the kids.

  Jung was starting to regain consciousness when Tank got to him.

  “W-where’s Jenna?” he asked.

  “Just hold on, pal,” Tank said.

  Jung was bleeding from his forehead, and a shard of glass stuck out of his arm.

  “What are you doing?” Jake asked.

  “They’re hurt,” Tank answered.

  “I know. Now finish the job. Let’s get this Jeep flipped over and see if it’ll still run. It could come in handy.”

  Tank pushed Jake in the back, sending him to the ground. When Jake got up, he pulled his gun on Tank.

  “You gonna make them duel too?” Tank shouted.

  “You’re way out of line, brother,” Jake said.

  “We can’t keep going down this path, Jake. We don’t kill kids.”

  “We’ll go down whatever path I take us.”

  “We’ve killed a lot of people since this shit went down, Jake, but we’ve never hurt kids before. It’s not something I’m going to start doing now.”

  Jake lowered the pistol and holstered it.

  “The kids are on you. Do what you want with them. Take the other two to the sheriff’s cells. Let’s see if they know our friends in there.”

  “The woman’s dead. She doesn’t have a pulse.”

  “Fine, then take the man.”

  Mike tried to make sense of everything that just happened, but he couldn’t. He just watched his father kill himself, sacrifice his life so Mike wouldn’t have the burden of pulling the trigger.

  When Frankie came in and tossed Jung inside the cell with him, Mike was brought back to reality. His wife and son were still at the cabin, and his daughter was still alive; he was still alive. There was still a chance.

  “Looks like you’re getting a little company,” Frankie said.

  Jung was unconscious when he hit the floor. Mike crawled to him, checked his pulse, and made sure he was still breathing.

  “Jung,” Mike said. “Jung, what happened?”

  Jung’s reply was nothing but mumbles and groans. Mike couldn’t understand what he was babbling on about.

  “Cincinnati… Jenna… I’m sorry,” Jung said.

  “Cincinnati? Jung, where’s Anne? Where’s Freddy?”

  Mike brought his hand to the side of Jung’s head, and blood stuck to his fingers.

  “Jesus, Jung, what happened?”

  Jung started to cry. Mike wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or something else. He just kept shaking his head and weeping. The sobs were silent, but every once in a while a gasp would escape.

  He rocked back and forth on the ground, curled in a ball, until he didn’t have any tears left. Finally, he spoke.

  “I took the Jeep,” Jung said.

  “What?”

  “Jenna was getting worse. The antibiotics weren’t working. The only way she was going to live was if I got her to Cincinnati.”

  “Where’s my family, Jung?”

  “They’re at the cabin. I… I tied them up and stole the car and got out of there as fast as I could.”

  Jung didn’t look Mike in the eye. He kept his face down, ashamed.

  The pain Mike felt was fading away. His father was dead, his daughter was beaten to a pulp, and now a man who he let into his home, protected, fed, and made sure his family was safe, betrayed him.

  “Did you hurt them?” Mike asked.

  “No, no, they’re okay.”


  Mike wanted to smash what was left of Jung’s life into oblivion. There were a lot of things that Mike could forgive, but attempting to hurt his family by stealing from him wasn’t one of them.

  “Daddy!” Jung Jr. said.

  “See? Daddy’s okay. He’s just in here,” Tank said.

  Jung crawled to the front of the cell, pushing his arms through the cracks in the bar, grasping his children.

  “Are you guys okay?” Jung asked.

  Jung Jr. and Claire nodded. Tank unlocked the cell.

  “C’mon, I’m taking you to one of the motel rooms. You can stay with your kids there,” Tank said.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much,” Jung said. “Wait. What about the rest of them?”

  “You know these people?”

  “Yes.”

  “Listen, it’s better if you act like you don’t know them, trust me.”

  Jung didn’t bother to turn around. He just left with his kids, and Tank locked the cell. If he had turned around, he would have seen a face that haunted him for the rest of his life. Mike never felt more disgusted in his entire life.

  When Sam saw the Jeep heading down the dirt road to the highway, he double-timed it. Whatever made them leave must have been bad.

  He still had his business shoes on, which made it awkward to run, especially through the uneven forest floor. Sam pushed through it though. The moment he left the cabin, he went into operation mode.

  Every mission he went on as an Army Ranger, he would get into a single mind-set. Complete the objective.

  It was all just a job, a task given to him and carried out as quickly and efficiently as he and his team could do it.

  When he was done, he felt no remorse for anything that happened on the mission. It wasn’t because he was heartless but because it was the only way for him to keep on living once the mission was over.

  Once he made it out of the forest and onto the highway, he was able to pick up his pace. The flat, level road was easier to run on than the divots and tree roots of the forest.

  Sam kept his rifle up at all times, scanning the perimeter of the town. When he made it to Main Street, he saw the Jeep flipped on its side.

  He could hear some commotion down the street. It was the sound of a child crying. Sam advanced, each step hitting the sidewalk quickly, quietly.

  Tank was taking Jung and his two kids up the stairs to the second floor of the motel. Sam watched them go into one of the rooms a few doors down.

  Sam peered through the scope. Room 24. He sat there for a moment, taking in the surroundings. The motel had forty-two rooms, twenty-one rooms on each floor. From what he heard at the cabin, there were no more than twenty bikers, probably fewer if Mike was a good shot.

  It wasn’t likely the bikers would have bunked up, so they were probably in their own rooms. Sam didn’t see anyone on watch, so they either didn’t have enough men for that, were too tired, or thought they weren’t in danger anymore. Either way, he had the advantage.

  Sam wanted to keep this as covert as possible. It wouldn’t do any good to let the gang know he was here by running in guns blazing. He climbed the staircase, pressed his ear to the door of room 24.

  There was nothing but mumbles, but he recognized Jung’s voice. He never saw the biker who went in there with him come out, so he’d have to act fast the moment he opened the door. He strapped the rifle over his shoulder and pulled the knife from his belt.

  One. Two. Three.

  He swung the door open and immediately went for Tank, who had his back to him. Sam made it to him in two steps, and in less than three seconds, he had his hand over Tank’s mouth and the knife slicing his throat.

  Jung gasped and jumped back, covering his children. Tank let out a few gargled chokes of breath before he finally passed out.

  “Shh, Jung, it’s me, Sam. I’m here to help. Are you all right?”

  Jung just stared at Sam, then his face twisted into grief and he started to cry.

  “She’s d-dead. I-I killed h-her,” Jung said.

  “What? Who’s dead?”

  “J-jenna. My w-wife. Oh, G-god.”

  Jung collapsed on the ground; both his children were starting to cry now. The louder they became the more attention they’d bring, and that was something Sam wanted to avoid.

  “Jung, listen to me, I know you’re hurting, but we have to get out of here now. We can’t stay. I need you to pull it together for me. Do you know where the others are?”

  Jung tried to compose himself.

  “There… in the sheriff’s office. They have them locked up in the cells.”

  “Who has the keys?”

  Jung motioned over to Tank, collapsed on the bed.

  He patted Tank down and found the keys on the inside pocket of his cut. Then he could hear a voice coming up the stairs.

  “Tank, everything all right in there?”

  Sam stuffed the keys into his pocket and brought his knife at the ready. He put his back against the wall, hiding himself behind the door. When the biker came in and saw Tank dead with Jung on the bed next to him, he pulled his gun.

  “You son of a bit—”

  One swift snap of the neck and the biker folded to the floor like a stack of cards.

  “C’mon,” Sam said. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Sam checked the hallway to see if anyone else heard the scuffle, but no one came. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with Jung and his family. The man was obviously in no shape to fight, and it was too dangerous to move forward with the kids around.

  The best bet was to stash them somewhere then come back for them once he had everyone accounted for.

  “Head for the hardware store, then go out the back and hide in the tall grass. I’ll come back for you once this is over. If I don’t come back in the next twenty minutes, then get out of here. Head back to the cabin.”

  Jung didn’t say anything. No thank you, no handshake, nothing. He just took his kids and headed across the street, and Sam watched him disappear in the shadows of the store.

  Sam made his way down to the sheriff’s office. When he entered there weren’t any guards, no one on patrol, nothing.

  He saw Mary and Kalen first, then Mike in the last cell down the hall. All of them were beaten badly. Kalen had the worst of it.

  “You guys all right? Just hang on, I’ll get you out of here.”

  Sam went for Mary’s cell first, then Kalen’s, then Mike’s. The moment Mike was out, he rushed to his daughter, who collapsed in his arms. Sam didn’t want to break up the moment, but he knew they had to move.

  Mike didn’t know the man who just let him out, but he didn’t care. He had his daughter again. It was a small victory for the high cost he paid today.

  “Are you Mike or Ulysses?” Sam asked.

  “Mike.”

  “I’m Sam. Your wife sent me. I came in with Nelson’s wife, Katie. We need to get out of here. I don’t know how many of these guys are left, but I’ve already taken out two.”

  “Give me one of your pistols.”

  Sam tossed Mike one of his 9mms.

  “Any extra magazines?” Mike asked.

  Sam handed him two of the magazines he had on him. Mike tucked them into his pocket then clicked the gun’s safety off.

  “Take them back to the cabin,” Mike said.

  “Whoa, you’re not in any condition to do what I think you’re going to do,” Sam said.

  “This isn’t any of your business.”

  “Maybe, but I do know that rule number one of war is you only start one if there’s a chance of winning.”

  “I didn’t start this.”

  Mike disappeared out of the sheriff’s office, leaving Sam with Kalen and Mary.

  “Shit.”

  Sam grabbed the girls and gave them the same instructions he did to Jung. He handed Kalen the other pistol he had.

  “You shoot anyone you don’t know.”

  Kalen grabbed Mary, and the two of them leaned on each o
ther, with Kalen gripping the pistol in her right hand as they walked out the door.

  Mike was already out of sight when Sam made it to the motel. Sam scanned the top floor when he heard the first shots go off in a room down the hall.

  “Here we go,” Sam said.

  Once the gunfire went off, the remaining bikers flew out of their rooms, guns loaded, looking to shoot anything that moved.

  Sam picked off the first one easy. The other six were smarter than their friends. Whoever Mike was looking for must not have been anyone who came out on the first floor because he went straight for the back of the motel.

  Sam didn’t let up. His training kicked in, and he advanced, moving closer to engage, funneling the bikers into a corner.

  It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Each shot Sam squeezed off either killed someone or exposed them from their cover. The only exit the biker’s had was to retreat back into the rooms, and from there they wouldn’t have anywhere to go.

  One biker made a run for it in the opposite direction, thinking he could outrun the bead Sam had on him. He was wrong.

  The biker’s jaw exploded off his face, and he dropped to the ground. There were only three of them left now; that’s when the bargaining started.

  “All right. We don’t want any more trouble.”

  “Getting tired?” Sam shouted back.

  “We just want to get out of here in one piece.”

  Sam reloaded the rifle with his last magazine.

  “So did those girls,” Sam said.

  He knew he had them on the ropes now. He jumped up from behind the stone fountain he positioned himself against and fired into the corner, where the bikers tried to hide behind the staircase.

  Sam sent two shots through the space in the steps and sent each bullet through an eye of the gang members.

  Frankie was the only left. He jumped from behind the staircase and aimed his pistol at Sam, but when he squeezed the trigger, all that came out was the click of the firing pin. Sam lowered his rifle.

  “Empty,” Sam said.

  The biker tossed his gun on the ground and threw his hands in the air.

  “You think we’ll be the last? There will be more people like me. You won’t be able to kill us all.”

  Sam pulled the knife out. Tank’s blood was still stained on the blade.