Surviving The Collapse Super Boxset: EMP Post Apocalyptic Fiction

by Roger Hayden

  Nelson’s eyes went to his feet. His hands fidgeted awkwardly at his sides.

  “It’s just. Well, I heard about what you did for Adam and I…”

  “How much do you need?” Mike asked.

  There wasn’t any malice in Mike’s words, no sense of mockery or “I told you so,” just a genuine concern. Nelson kept his head down.

  “Just a few days’ worth. You know until all this blows over.”

  “Is Sean allergic to anything?” Anne asked.

  “No, but he doesn’t like Brussels sprouts,” he answered.

  “Who does?” she smiled.

  “Come on in,” Mike said.

  Mike and Nelson sat on the couch while Anne put together a package downstairs. Mike unhooked his tool belt to get a little more comfortable and laid it next to the plywood on the floor.

  “Been busy today?” Nelson asked pointing at the plywood.

  “A little,” Mike said.

  “You know if you’re working on any projects around the house I’d be happy to help. It’s the least I could do. I used to be a foreman before I met Katie-”

  Nelson’s throat caught at the sound of his wife’s name.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “How long were you a foreman?” Mike asked.

  “Five years, but I was doing construction since I was eighteen. Never really thought I was the college type, so I got the first job I could after high school and just worked my way up.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “Most people don’t. I miss it some days, but most days I don’t. Seeing you covered from head to toe in sweat and sawdust doesn’t bring back any fond memories.”

  “Yeah, I’d love to take a shower.”

  “No water pressure?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “I might be able to help with that.”

  Mike took him downstairs to the water heater and they located the water pressure regulator. Nelson took a look at the configuration of pipes, gauges, and valves spread around the basement.

  “The water pressure coming into the house from outside is more powerful than most homes need, so contractors use a pressure valve to decrease the water flow coming through the pipes. If I open up the pressure on the house’s end it should squeeze out more pressure for another shower or two.”

  Nelson opened the valve up and the pipes hissed and rattled from the water rushing through.

  “That should give you a little modern comfort. For a while at least,” Nelson said.

  “Thanks, Nelson.”

  Anne met them back upstairs with a bag of canned goods: corn, peaches, green beans, and beef.

  “I can’t thank you two enough,” Nelson said.

  “It’s our pleasure,” Anne said.

  Nelson left and Mike headed upstairs. He knocked on Kalen’s door. She cracked it open.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Oh, nothing. I just wanted to see if you should take the first shower, but if you’re busy…”

  The door flew open and she nearly knocked him down on her way to the bathroom.

  “Are you serious?” she screamed.

  “Hold on. Make sure you have everything ready before you turn it on. And be quick. I’m not sure how long it’s going to last.”

  “Dad, you’re amazing.”

  She ran back over to him and wrapped her arms around him. When she dug her face into his chest she pulled back.

  “And you smell terrible.”

  “I know, so make it quick, huh? I’d like to take one too,”

  “You can have my shower time, Dad!” Freddy screamed from his bedroom across the hall.

  “Thanks, buddy,” Mike called.

  9

  Day Five

  At least ten families crammed into the living room. Most of them stood, while a few others sat stiffly on couches and chairs. Ted Beachum stood at the front of the living room. He paced back and forth in front of his audience rubbing his hands together, searching for words.

  “I think it’s safe to say that the power’s not coming back on, and nobody’s coming to help. It’s time we get organized,” Ted said.

  Heads nodded in agreement with the exception of one. Ray Gears stood silent in the back corner.

  “We need to pull everyone’s resources on the block and see who has what to offer. From there we’ll divide it up based on the size of each family and their needs,” Ted said.

  Bessie Beachum, Ted’s wife, came up behind him. She placed her hand on his back. She was a woman who was always well groomed, meticulous about her entire appearance, but the past five days had left stray hairs sticking out and old makeup flaking off her cheeks. The tired bags under her eyes aged her and the attempt to re-apply the blush in her cheeks was the equivalent of trying to hide an ugly picture in a beautiful frame.

  “There are some people in this neighborhood that had no idea that this could happen. How were we supposed to prepare for something like this? How were we supposed to know this would happen?” she asked.

  “Nobody could have known,” a woman cried.

  “Exactly. These are circumstances that are beyond our control, so the only way to survive now is by whatever means is necessary,” Bessie said.

  “And who will decide what means to use on whom?” Ray asked.

  Everyone in the room turned to look at Ray, who was leaning against the back wall of the living room with his hands in his pockets.

  “The neighborhood will,” Bessie replied.

  “The neighborhood?” Ray asked.

  “It’s the only way we’ll survive this, Ray,” Ted said.

  Ray rocked his chin in his hand, mulling the response over.

  “Well, if it’s the neighborhood that’s deciding, I think we’re missing a few members aren’t we?” Ray asked.

  Most of the neighbor’s faces wore looks of surprise and innocent ignorance, but out of all the faces Ray watched Bessie’s was the one that frightened him most.

  “We extended the invitation for everyone to come. I can’t force everyone to be a part of this,” Bessie said.

  “You can’t force people to be a part of your community of help and survival, but you can force people to give you the supplies to keep it going?” Ray asked.

  The heads in the room were swiveling back and forth from Ray to Bessie. Even Ted’s face went back and forth. They were all searching for some unnamed enemy to point their fingers at, but the real enemy was their own ignorance. And they knew it.

  “I’m sure that those who see someone in need will be more than willing to participate if they’re able to,” Bessie replied.

  “Just like any good Samaritan would,” Ray said.

  “Now, why don’t we start with everyone that’s already here?” Ted asked. “Bessie and I will head over to everyone’s house for an inventory check and see what we have, and then divide it up amongst ourselves. Then we can spread out to the other houses and see if they want to join in. Tim, we’ll start with your place.”

  The crowd dispersed and headed back to their homes. Ray was the only one that didn’t go home. His feet took him to Mike’s house.

  Mike smacked the last nail in place for the upstairs bedroom window. He brushed some of the plaster off the bed that had fallen from the wall and stood back to examine his work. He worried that the nails wouldn’t be strong enough to hold the plywood in place covering the windows if someone wanted to force their way in, but he did the best he could. At the very least it would give him and his family time to escape.

  He gathered up his nails when he heard muffled voices coming from downstairs. When Mike walked over to the stairs, he saw Ray and Anne in the foyer below.

  “It happened today? Bessie told me that it was tomorrow,” Anne said.

  “Mike, we need to talk,” Ray said.

  The three of them sat in the living room and were joined by Ulysses. Ray recounted what had happened at the meeting with the Beachums’.

  “So, what? They’re going to try and stea
l our supplies if we don’t hand them over?” Anne asked.

  “Everyone’s starting to feel the pressure. There were at least ten families at that meeting,” Ray said.

  “They’re being driven by fear. Ray’s right; it won’t be long before they start stealing instead of asking,” Ulysses said.

  With the windows sealed shut, they had lit candles to help illuminate the house. Mike looked at shadows being cast across half visible faces. Men can’t survive in the dark.

  “We leave tomorrow,” Mike said.

  “You got room for one more in that Jeep?” Ray asked.

  “What if we don’t?” Ulysses asked.

  “Relax, Ulysses. I just need to know if I should wait around or not,” Ray said.

  Mike mulled it over. Ray had known about his Jeep and, to his knowledge, hadn’t told anyone else about it.

  “Pack all of the food you can. Do you have a gun?” Mike asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Bring it and all the ammo you have.”

  After Ray had left Anne ran upstairs to gather the kids. Ulysses walked over to Mike.

  “You trust that guy?” Ulysses asked.

  “I’ll find out soon enough,” Mike said.

  Mike made five trips from the cellar to the Jeep in the garage. He threw packs of food, ammo, and first aid kits in the back of the Jeep. He strapped everything down with a few cargo belts, checking to make sure it was secure.

  He heard shouts coming from upstairs. Mike made it to the second floor and Anne was standing outside Kalen’s door with both her hands on her hips.

  “Kalen Grace Grant, you open this door right now!” Anne said.

  “What’s going on?” Mike asked.

  “She’s locked herself in her room, because she doesn’t want to leave.”

  “Let me talk to her. You make sure Freddy’s good to go,” Mike said.

  Anne threw her hands up and walked into Freddy’s room. Mike knocked on the door.

  “Kalen, open up,” Mike said.

  “No! I’m not leaving.”

  “C’mon, Kay, open the door. You owe me that much for the shower.”

  There was a pause and then the sound of footsteps and the door unlocking.

  When Mike entered, Kalen had her legs crossed sitting on top of her bed scratching the paint from her nails.

  “I’m not going,” she said.

  “Well, Freddy will be devastated.”

  Mike ignored the eye roll, and focused on the smile instead. He sat down beside her, putting his hand on her leg.

  “What’s going on?” Mike asked.

  “It’s just not fair, Dad! Why did this have to happen now? Why couldn’t this have happened after I was dead, or at least after college? What am I supposed to do now? What am I going to do with my life? What has the past three years of high school meant if it doesn’t exist anymore? James was just starting to like me.”

  Mike cringed at the sound of James’ name, so he was glad she wasn’t looking at him. He didn’t think it would help the situation.

  “Kalen, we can’t control everything that happens to us. The best we can do is prepare and hope for the best.”

  Her shoulders began to shake and Mike walked up behind her and she spun around into his arms, her tears soaking through his shirt.

  “I’m scared, Dad.”

  “We’ll be fine. I promise.”

  10

  The Night of the Fifth Day

  Twelve families brought all of the canned goods and water they could find. The measly collection of their combined efforts lay scattered across the floor of the Beachums’ living room. It was enough to feed each family for another day. After that they would have nothing.

  “This is everything?” Ted asked.

  “That’s all we had,” Rusty said.

  “We were down to our last can,” Sam replied.

  “We brought more than everyone else. I just want to point that out,” Brian said.

  The families were restless. Everyone’s eyes drifted from the food and supplies in the middle of the room to the faces circling it. Family members whispered in each other’s ears.

  “I bet Frank has more than what he brought.”

  “There’s no way they only had one can.”

  “Just because they’re fat asses and don’t know how to ration we’ve got to give them our food?”

  Bessie checked each house she visited from top to bottom. She spent all afternoon going door to door, scouring every cabinet, cupboard, cellar, attic, and shed to find what she could.

  “I think it’s safe to say that everyone here contributed as much as they could,” Bessie said.

  Everyone stopped talking and looked at Bessie.

  “However, it does seem that a few of our neighbors are in a better situation than we are and aren’t matching our… generosity,” she said.

  Bessie made her way over to Adam. He kept his head down and avoided looking at her the entire night. She knew that Mike had given Adam supplies.

  “Adam,” she said.

  Adam kept his face down. His feet shuffled awkwardly in place. He fiddled with his hands, pulling at his fingers. Bessie walked slowly to him, showing motherly concern.

  “Don’t you think that Mike and his family should help the rest of us like they helped you?” Bessie asked.

  “I... I don’t know,” Adam answered.

  “But you’re the one who told us they gave you that basket of food. Are you saying that’s all they have?”

  “I didn’t see how much they had. They just gave it to me.”

  “Well, then. That settles it. If they’re able to hand out food like that on a whim then they should have enough for all of us. Now, we’ll divide up what we have here and then everyone should head home. We’ll start fresh in the morning,” Bessie said.

  The families lined up and everything was rationed equally. People either received fewer goods than what they brought, or more than they were able to offer.

  Bessie pulled Adam aside from the line. She brought him into the kitchen. Ted followed.

  Bessie sat him down at the kitchen table and joined him. Ted stood by the stove watching both of them.

  “Adam, I appreciate what you told me about the Grants. It was very helpful, but I was curious to know if they had anything else. Did they have any other provisions, any modes of transportation, any…weapons?” Bessie asked.

  “I told you I never went inside. They brought everything to me.”

  “Well, it’s well known that Mike has always been one to prepare for these types of things.”

  “If he hadn’t given me that food my boy would still be hungry.”

  “Adam, if Mike really cared about making sure your boy was okay why didn’t he come today? Wouldn’t have he tried everything he could to make sure your boy didn’t go hungry again?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right he should have been here tonight,” Adam said.

  Bessie watched his hands curl into fists and then pound them on the kitchen table, knocking the saltshaker to its side.

  “Why the hell didn’t he come?” Adam said.

  “Do you still have your brother’s guns and ammo?” she asked.

  Mike loaded the 12-gauge shells into the shotgun. He checked the safety and put it in the large duffle bag he pulled from storage. Voices coming from upstairs made him freeze; he was holding a handful of 9mm shells. He threw on his holster and shoved the pistol inside.

  The stairs creaked with each step up from the basement. When Mike made it to the top he could hear two voices in the foyer.

  “Anne, it’s so wonderful to see you. You seem to be holding up well.”

  “Thank you, Bessie. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Well, I was hoping too- Oh, hello, Mike.”

  Mike watched her eyes fall to the pistol at his side. Her fake astonishment didn’t have the effect she intended.

  “Do you really think it’s necessary to carry a gun around like that? I mean real
ly, Anne, what if Freddy got a hold of one,” Bessie asked.

  “What do you want, Bessie?” Mike asked.

  “I’m sure you know a few of the families in the neighborhood are in a bad spot with what’s been happening. Some of us have decided to pool our resources for the benefit of the neighborhood. I wanted to see if you and Anne would like to join us.”

  “Who needs help?” Anne asked.

  “Well, everyone really, but there are some folks worse off than others… and a few that are better off than most.”

  Mike saw her eyes land on the open basement door that Mike had left. They were only there for a moment, but Mike saw her notice it.

  “I’ll run downstairs and see what I can put together,” Anne said.

  “Oh, let me help you.”

  “No, it’s all right. I’ll only be a minute.”

  Anne slid behind Mike and left him alone with Bessie.

  “It’s very kind of you to help the way you have, Mike. Not everyone is as fortunate as you are,” Bessie said.

  Mike followed her to the edge of the living room. She leaned in without moving her feet from the hardwood floor of the foyer to the brown carpet of the living room.

  “Redecorating?” she asked motioning to the plywood over the windows.

  “Just making sure the things that belong outside stay outside,” Mike said.

  Bessie backed closer to the front door when Anne returned from downstairs with a bag of goods, almost spilling over at the top.

  “Oh, Anne, this is too much,” Bessie said.

  “No, take it. I hope it helps with what you’re trying to do,” Anne said.

  “It surely will.”

  Bessie clutched the bag to her chest with both hands. Her shoes clacked against the pavement as she walked back to her home. The moon highlighted her hair along with the slight outline of her downturned mouth, furrowed brow, and creases in her forehead. She entered through her back door into the kitchen and dumped the cans from the bag, sending them clanking and rolling onto the counter tops.

  Tim and Adam sat at the kitchen table. Both were emptying boxes of bullets and filling magazines. Both of them froze at the sight of the goods spilling onto the counter.