A Tale of Survival in a Powerless World (Book 4): Broken Lives

by James Hunt

  “You’re coming with us.”

  The guards with Sergeant Blake grabbed Nelson by the arms and pulled him out to the vehicle.

  They drove through the streets of Cincinnati toward the north entrance where Nelson and his group originally came in. From there they headed west for ten minutes and parked outside a factory, heavily guarded.

  Nelson had never seen this part of the city. It looked more like a military base.

  The soldiers led him around the back of the factory and through one of the side doors. The area where he entered was an office space, but he could hear the humming of large machinery, and the shouts of men beyond the office walls.

  “Through here,” Blake said.

  Nelson followed him through one of the doors and into the factory. Massive cylinders were being hauled around, then fed into an assembly line. He tried getting a closer look, but the soldiers kept blocking his view.

  The back of the factory was completely sectioned off. All of the equipment in the area was destroyed and part of the wall had collapsed with crack lines running all the way up to the ceiling.

  “What happened here?” Nelson asked.

  “I need you to check the stability of the wall. Make sure it’ll still stand,” Blake said.

  “I’ll need the original blueprints to have something to go on, and I’ll also need to inspect the rest of the building.”

  “How long is this going to take?”

  “Depends on what I find.”

  Nelson laid the blueprints to the building across a table they set up for him in the back. He walked along the perimeter, doing a quick visual inspection on both the inner and outer walls.

  While he was on the inside his eyes kept wandering to the workers in the factory. The more Nelson saw, the more he understood what the factory’s purpose was.

  They made bombs.

  He could see the stockpiles of weapons poking out from the tarps that concealed them. There were hundreds of missiles, all ranging in different sizes and shapes. Some of them were small, but the majority of them were massive.

  All of the damage he could find seemed to be contained to the back wall. The rest of the building was intact. Whatever had happened didn’t affect the rest of the factory.

  “I should come back in a few days, make sure everything’s stable. You’ll have to completely tear down that back wall though if you want it repaired,” Nelson said.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Blake answered.

  Blake nodded to his men and they grabbed Nelson by the arms and started pulling him outside. The soldiers were rougher with him than before.

  Once they were outside the soldiers shoved Nelson to the ground. He caught himself on the palms of his hands and the skin tore against the concrete, causing them to bleed.

  “Hey!” Nelson said.

  Sergeant Blake aimed his pistol at Nelson’s head. Nelson’s hands flew up in the air.

  “Whoa, just, listen… You don’t have to do this,” Nelson said.

  Nelson crawled backwards on his hands and feet, his palms stinging each time he moved.

  “We have our orders,” Blake said.

  Three successive shots left Blake’s gun and sent bullets flying into Nelson’s chest. Nelson fell to his back and gargled what last few breaths of life he had left.

  ***

  Mike was soaking wet when he crawled up the seawall on the other side of the river. He tossed the flotation device back in the water and ripped his shirt off and wrung it out.

  He checked his pocket for the remote that Wyatt gave him. It was still there. He had to get to his family and let them know what was going on.

  There weren’t any soldiers on patrol in the area Mike arrived in. He wanted to avoid any contact with anyone other than his family as much as possible. He didn’t want to waste time being questioned by Bram’s men about what happened.

  After twenty minutes of walking north he decided to turn east and head closer to the epicenter of the city where his family was located. He was hoping his clothes would have dried a bit, but he was still soggy.

  There was a men’s clothing store along the way and he managed to find a dry pair of pants and shirt. He snagged a hat off one of the shelves and pulled it low over his forehead.

  The closer he moved to the center of the city the more people he saw. Luckily most of them were civilians. He kept his head down, not looking anyone in the eye.

  The hotel where his family was located was only a few more blocks down the road. He was still tired from the swim, but the knowledge that he was so close gave him a burst of energy that he didn’t have before.

  Then, right before he made it to the hotel he stopped. He couldn’t go through the front door. The guards would check him. He’d have to sneak in, but he had no idea if there were any other entrances to the building. He’d only been in and out the front exit.

  The fire escape.

  But he knew he couldn’t get to it from the ground floor. Mike walked to the building next to the hotel and checked the gap between both structures. The alley couldn’t have been more than four feet wide. If he could get to the top of the other building he could jump for it.

  Mike went down the side of the adjacent building. The fire escape there was still intact. He started the climb up and when he made it to the top the dry shirt he changed into was soaked with sweat.

  His boots crunched against the grainy roof and when he made it to the edge of the building he looked down.

  “This is a terrible idea.”

  Mike backed up and sprinted as fast as he could. He pushed off the edge of the building and when he landed on the other side his feet slid across the roof and he hit the ground hard.

  “Jesus.”

  Mike got up, his legs still wobbly, and then headed for the fire escape. He descended until he made it to his family’s floor.

  There weren’t any latches on the windows, so he took off his shirt and wrapped it around his fist. He peered inside, checking to make sure the hallway was clear. Then he smashed through the glass as hard as he could. He stepped through the hole, making sure to avoid the sharp edges, and landed on the carpet.

  The ding of the elevator door opening made his heart drop. When he looked down at the end of the hallway he saw Freddy walking out, followed by Kalen and Anne.

  “Dad!” Freddy screamed.

  He ran toward his father and Mike scooped him up in a big hug. Kalen and Anne weren’t far behind and the four of them just squeezed each other tight.

  “We thought you were gone,” Anne said.

  “So did I,” Mike replied.

  “I knew you’d come back,” Kalen said.

  Mike pulled everyone into Mike and Anne’s room. Freddy and Anne sat on the bed, while Kalen leaned against the wall. He went through everything with them. He told them about Wyatt, what Bram did, and what he was planning.

  “As soon as I find that factory I’m taking you guys down to the river and getting you as far away from this place as possible,” Mike said.

  “I’m coming with you,” Kalen said.

  “No.”

  “Dad, I can help.”

  “You can help by keeping your brother and mother safe.”

  “How are you going to find the factory?” Anne asked.

  “Nelson,” Mike answered.

  Mike knew that Nelson was pulled into the maintenance unit, so if anyone had an idea of the layout of different buildings within the city it’d be him. He just needed to find him fast.

  “They’re on the floor below us,” Anne said. “I’ll go grab him.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Kalen said.

  The girls left the room, leaving Mike and Freddy alone.

  Freddy wrapped his arms around his father’s legs and buried his face in his knee. Mike lifted him up and gave his son a kiss on the forehead. Freddy reached into his pocket and pulled out the watch Mike gave him.

  “I cleaned it yesterday,” Freddy said.

  “Wow. It looks gr
eat, buddy.”

  Mike held the end of the watch’s chain and let it twirl. The light in the room caught the silver and made it shine.

  “Thanks for taking good care of it,” Mike said. “Grandpa would be proud.”

  “I miss him.”

  “Me too.”

  Kalen came back into the room. She was alone.

  “Dad,” she said.

  She motioned for him to come in the hallway. Kalen shut the door behind her and kept her voice low.

  “Nelson’s dead,” Kalen said.

  “What?”

  “Two soldiers came and told Katie that there was an accident at one of the buildings Nelson was working at. A piece of machinery malfunctioned and collapsed on top of him. They said there wasn’t anything left of the body.”

  “How?”

  “That’s all they told her, and we didn’t press her for anything else. She’s still pretty upset.”

  “Where did it happen?” Mike asked.

  “They didn’t say.”

  ***

  Katie’s eyes were red. Her cheeks were still wet with tears. Nelson’s son, Sean, was in the corner, silent. He was the same age as Freddy, and now he was fatherless.

  Anne was on the bed next to Katie, holding her hands.

  “They didn’t tell me what he was working on,” Katie answered.

  “What about who he was working with?” Mike asked.

  “There were a couple of guys that did the same job as him, but Nelson said they would always go to the job sites alone. There was never any need for two of them to be in the same place.”

  “Where was he stationed?”

  ***

  For a building that housed the maintenance team it was pretty run-down. The workers were just leaving for the day when Mike showed up.

  “I need to speak to you guys for a second,” Mike said.

  “Any repair requests need to go through your building supervisor.”

  “It’s about Nelson Miller.”

  The old man paused for a moment, then looked around to see if anyone was watching. He grabbed Mike’s arm and pulled him inside the building. The old man locked the door behind him.

  “Who are you?” the old man asked.

  “I was a friend of Nelson’s. Do you know what happened to him?” Mike asked.

  The old man gave a snort and ran his liver-spotted hands through what white hair he still had left.

  “Maintenance accident,” he said.

  “You see a lot of those accidents around here?” Mike asked.

  “More than I care to notice.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Fred.”

  Fred and Mike sat down at a small table in what Mike assumed was their break room. It wasn’t much to look at. A yellow fridge hummed in the corner, while a toaster covered with bread crumbs sat alone on the counter.

  “How long have you been here?” Mike asked.

  “Since this whole thing started.”

  “You’re from Cincinnati?”

  “Lived here all my life.”

  Mike wanted to choose his words carefully. He felt as though Fred knew what was happening, but he couldn’t risk exposing what he already knew.

  “What do you know about the man that’s running this place?” Mike asked.

  “I know that he came in with his men, killed a lot of people, established order, and turned the power back on.”

  “And everyone was okay with what he did?”

  “Once the power came back on people were okay with pretty much anything.”

  “I need to know where they sent Nelson to work today.”

  “It’s on the report.”

  “I need to know where he really went today.”

  “Whenever the military show up here we know that whoever goes with them isn’t coming back. We don’t know where they take them, but I have a feeling it’s up in the northwest part of the city. That’s where the factory district is, and that’s where we hardly ever get called to,” Fred said.

  “What are they doing up there?”

  “I don’t know. But whatever it is they don’t want anyone seeing it.”

  Six Months After the Blackout

  “Agent Sullivan, I don’t give a shit what this guy’s telling you. We have a signed confession. The prosecution is moving forward and if the bastard doesn’t want to defend himself, then we’re not going to give a reason to delay the trial,” Mack said.

  Ben could feel the spit flying out of his supervisor’s mouth. Mack Field wasn’t one for trying to push the boundaries. He knew what his superiors wanted and he made sure that he delivered.

  “I understand that, sir, but with Dr. Wyatt willing to testify—”

  “Do you have his testimony in writing?”

  “He hasn’t given me a confirmation in wri—”

  “Then the hearing is going to happen tomorrow.”

  “But, sir—”

  “You’re dismissed, Agent Sullivan.”

  Mitch was slumped in a chair with his hands on his belly, waiting for Ben to come out. Ben didn’t make eye contact with him when he passed. Mitch pushed himself up out of the chair and followed Ben back to their office.

  “I told you he wouldn’t go for it,” Mitch said.

  “I had to try.”

  “And how much longer are you going to ‘try’?”

  Ben spun around and pinned Mitch up against the wall. Mitch’s cheeks flushed red and the fat under his chin squished up into his face.

  “As long as it fucking takes!” Ben said.

  The entire hall was quiet. Everyone was looking at him. Ben let Mitch go and walked back to the office alone.

  The walls shook when Ben slammed the door shut behind him. A pile of papers sat on the edge of his desk and he sent them flying into the air with one sweep of his arm. He pulled the filing cabinet off the wall and shoved it to the ground.

  It didn’t matter if he went to his boss’s boss’s boss. Nobody was going to get in the way of this. Everyone was looking for somewhere to place blame about what happened and Mike was giving himself up on a silver platter. He couldn’t help the man if he didn’t want to help himself.

  There was a knock on the door, but Ben didn’t answer. After a few more minutes the door opened. Ben expected it to be Mitch, but when he saw the face of Dr. Wyatt his half smile turned into disgust.

  “What do you want?” Ben asked.

  Dr. Wyatt came in, stepping over the pieces of paper scattered across the carpet. He knelt down slowly and joined Ben on the ground.

  “You know I wasn’t sure what I expected to happen when I saw Mike yesterday. When I saw the way he was looking at me I just lost my nerve,” Dr. Wyatt said.

  “The trial’s tomorrow and Mike will be dead before the week’s over.”

  “Maybe not.”

  Dr. Wyatt slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small object wrapped in a white cloth. He dropped it in Ben’s lap.

  “What is it?” Ben asked.

  “Something that might be able to buy a good man a little more time,” Dr. Wyatt said.

  ***

  Ben was escorted by a correction officer down the hallway where the dangerous inmates were housed. These were the people who committed violent crimes. Mike Grant was in a cell on this row. He was sandwiched right between a serial rapist and a triple homicide.

  Mike was lying on his cot when Ben stepped inside.

  “You get two minutes,” the guard said.

  The officer kept the door open and Ben leaned up against the wall. The space was cramped with just one person, let alone two.

  “Come to say your last words?” Mike asked.

  “Wyatt came to see me today.”

  “I told you I’m not speaking to him again.”

  “I know. He gave me something. He wanted me to give it to you.”

  Ben pulled the white handkerchief out of his pocket and set it on the foot of Mike’s cot.

  “I don’t want anything f
rom him,” Mike said.