Dark New World (Book 1): Dark New World

by Henry G. Foster

  Dark New World

  - Book One -

  by

  JJ Holden

  &

  Henry Gene Foster

  Three people from different walks of life each experience the end of America. Cassy is a 33-year-old prepper and single mother, away on business. Ethan is a hacker and conspiracy nut living underground. Frank is a family man out camping with friends and family. When a devastating EMP attack in the middle of the night destroys America’s infrastructure, they are propelled on an unforgettable journey across an ocean of chaos to reach safety… Safety from an unknown invader and from once-fellow Americans now hungry and desperate. Dark New World is a prepper story of survival and the fight to retain humanity in the face of an apocalyptic event.

  Copyright © 2016 by JJ Holden / Henry Gene Foster

  All rights reserved.

  jjholdenbooks.blogspot.com

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  FREE JJ HOLDEN STORY:

  Sign up for JJ Holden’s Newsletter, and get a free copy of his latest unreleased short story!

  Click here to sign up: bit.ly/jjholdennewsletter

  - 1 -

  0400 HOURS - ZERO DAY

  CASSY SHORES SAT bolt upright in bed and knew that something was terribly wrong. She glanced around the hotel room with a growing sense of dread as she realized it was pitch black. She paused to listen intently and then feel for anything out of the ordinary, but her other senses told her nothing.

  She stretched and then slid off the bed, gingerly using her toe to find the floor. She felt around the little end table for the alarm clock, bigger than her cell phone and easier to find in the dark. It should have cast a red glow, but it too was dark. She turned it over, checking every side, but it stayed stubbornly off. With a sigh, Cassy felt around for her cell phone and pressed the button to light it up to check the time. When it didn’t activate, her heart began to beat faster.

  She realized then what was wrong: a city should have a quiet, ever-present hum of background noise, but there was only silence. She expected that kind of silence at her family’s house in the middle of nowhere north of Lancaster, but it was utterly alien to urban Philadelphia.

  Her mouth went dry and her heart pounded faster as she crept to the sliding door that led to the room’s tiny balcony and slid it open. Still there was no noise, no city hum. And no light—the city was as dark as it was quiet. She struggled to make sense of what she saw. Her brain was still sleep-fogged, but was quickly coming back on line with help from the colder night air outside.

  The building abruptly quaked, and a deep, booming noise washed over Cassy. It echoed through the canyon of tall buildings surrounding her hotel. Her adrenaline surged, and she dove back through the open sliding glass door into her room, even before her mind registered the explosion. She laid face-down on the floor, clinging to it as though it could protect her if the building collapsed, while her mind caught up to what had happened.

  Looking through the windows and door, she saw a fierce red glow reflecting off the glass of the building across the street. The light replaced the darkness of night and then slowly faded out until all was again black. Cassy waited for what seemed hours, but was probably only moments, and then climbed to her feet while running shaking fingers through her tousled hair.

  A loud pounding on her door made her jump. Cassy carefully made her way through the darkness to the door and opened it. The hallway beyond was also pitch-black and she saw no one at first, but then she heard a baritone voice.

  “Cassy, are you alright?” asked the voice, which she recognized. It was Tyrel Alexander, a co-worker who was also at the hotel in preparation for the next day’s conference.

  Relief flooded through her at having a friendly person ask about her safety. “Yeah, thanks, Ty. What the hell was that?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t see a damn thing. But I figured I’d make sure you were alright before going out to look. Want to come?”

  “Sure,” she replied. “Let me get some clothes on. Whatever it was, it was loud and bright. Come on in.”

  “Yeah, scared me. Knocked out the power, too, it seems. I’ll be right here by the door, girl.”

  As Tyrel waited for her to dress, Cassy couldn’t see him but felt reassured by the rustle his clothes made each time he fidgeted. She didn’t bother being shy—she couldn’t safely find the bathroom or her suitcase in the blackness, and he couldn’t see her just then anyway. She slipped off her robe in the dark and put on the dress she’d worn the night before, which was still by the bed. She put on her furry moccasin slippers and cautiously inched towards the door.

  “Okay, let’s go,” she said and felt around until she made contact with his jacket. “I don’t want to get separated, so I’m hanging on to you. Do you know the way?”

  “Yeah,” Tyrel said. “The stairwell is two doors down, I remember. Funny, I’d think the emergency exit lights would be on, right? They’re on batteries.”

  “Let’s just go. If we can get to the lobby, we can look around. Maybe a car bomb went off or something. But the lights were out before the building shook.”

  Tyrel grunted in response, and they kept moving.

  The two crept along the hallway, fingers on the wall for guidance, until they found the second door. It took a long time to descend the stairs in the dark, but they made it to the lobby level and emerged from the stairwell. Here too everything was dark, but there was more noise as several other people called out, asking questions to which no one had any answers.

  “Let’s look outside,” said Tyrel, and Cassy grunted in agreement.

  They made their way to the huge glass double-doors of the hotel and stepped outside with caution. Cassy could see a little by the light of the waning moon, but not far. She saw no headlights, no cars moving. There were only a few people outside at whatever time of the pre-dawn morning it was, and they seemed to be doing what Cassy was doing—standing around just looking.

  “My car is real close to the front doors,” Cassy finally said. “I have a flashlight in the glovebox.”

  It was Tyrel’s turn to follow Cassy, and they made their way to the nearby parking lot. “Third car from the street,” Cassy said.

  Once she got the car unlocked it only took a few seconds for her to find the rugged metal flashlight. Clicking it on, she turned in a circle slowly, using the beam to light up her surroundings, but saw nothing interesting. She slid into the driver’s seat and put the key in. When she turned the key, nothing happened. She tried again, but still nothing.

  Cassy sat motionless for a minute, thinking. “How’s your phone, Tyrel?” she said.

  “My battery died.”

  “That’s what I thought about my phone, too. So, the lights are out, the phones are dead, and the cars aren’t running.”

  Tyrel frowned. “But it’s just a blackout, right?”

  “Maybe. But if it was just the power grid down, why won’t the cars start? And the cell phones aren’t workin
g at all, not even powering on.”

  “Bullshit, Cassy. You make it sound like aliens killed electricity or something.”

  “No, not aliens. But something has brought down all the electrical devices, and the power grid. You understand what I’m saying?”

  Tyrel paused for a long moment before replying. “I’m going back to my room to go to sleep. It’s still crazy early, feel me?”

  Cassy nodded. “Yeah. Listen, at first light I’m going to figure out what to do. Be at my room then, if you want to come with me.” Voice dripping with friendly sarcasm, she continued, “If not, good luck and I’m sure I’ll see you at work Monday.”

  “Yeah, I’ll see you Monday. I’m going to stay in my warm room until they get the lights back on. I’m sure not going to that stupid conference tomorrow if the power is still out. Extra day off, yay.”

  Cassy let out a forced laugh and then she and Tyrel made their way back up to the fifth floor of the hotel.

  She slid into her room and locked the door, and then carefully moved to the bed. Sitting down, she pulled out her cell phone and tried again to turn it on, without success. “By God,” she muttered, “don’t let this be what I think it is.”

  Deep inside, though, she knew. She’d prepared for this day, but facing the reality of a total grid-down situation made her hands shake and her knees weak. A more terrifying thought struck her—what of her children? They were with Grandma Mandy, Cassy’s mom. But as much as she loved her mother, Cassy knew how poorly prepared her mom was for an emergency of any kind, much less a total grid failure.

  Cassy sat on her bed numbly wondering what to do. She felt as though her thoughts were moving through mud, due to the shock. “Okay, Cassandra, stop. Think. What are your options?”

  She tallied them off in her head and felt much clearer now that she had something solid to think about. The first decision was whether to stay in the hotel or leave it. If she stayed, she was betting that someone could get the system running again within a couple of days. After that the stores would be empty and the Philly natives would be hungry and restless. If that bet paid off, everything would be fine, but if it didn’t, well… She shuddered to think what the city of a million and a half people would be like in a few days without food. And, she thought, the odds of getting everything back up and running soon were frighteningly small.

  Or she could leave the hotel, but she only had two places to go—her mother’s house or her own. She wondered whether her mother would think to leave her house early enough. No, she knew her mother would wait until it was too late before realizing the hope fairy wasn’t going to fix this. At her mother’s age, and given the age of her own children who were with Grandma Mandy, it was best they stayed put unless they left immediately. Grandma couldn’t make the trip on her own, most likely.

  Cassy sighed in resignation. Her mother had teased her when she had started preparing for disasters, but Cassy had always just told her it was better to have it and not need it. Although, if she was honest with herself, she wasn’t as prepared as she could have been. The recession had made everyone’s lives tougher, and she had to tighten her own belt as well when her employer started pay cuts and furlough days. Still, she had a generator and other supplies, and enough food to feed everyone in her family for at least a year. If they could all just get to Cassy’s house intact, everything would surely be fine.

  But first she had to get them there, on foot, amidst the madness that she knew would soon come when the stores were bare.

  - 2 -

  0600 HOURS - ZERO DAY

  STAFF SGT. TAGGART sat with three other soldiers in an ancient HMMWV, watching the landscape creeping by.

  “Hey, Sarge. What’s with this Charlie Foxtrot?” asked the soldier next to him. To SSgt Taggart, he looked young enough to still be in school.

  “Do you mean, why were we ordered to leave our cozy barracks at Fort Doom at zero-dark-thirty? In the oldest Humvees in the lot? Scattering towards New York, every unit via a different route? The answer to all those questions is the same. Because we’re ordered to.”

  “Yeah, but why are all the POVs on the road dead?”

  “God hates civilian vehicles, numbnuts. Now shut your mouth and open your eyeballs.”

  Taggart had, of course, been wondering the same thing. Everything had died just as they had the gear stowed and were getting ready to head out. Cell phones, cars, lights. Everything but these ancient HMMWVs, which the grease monkeys had for some reason been working on days before the orders came to move out. Taggart wondered how far things had gone and why they had orders to split up and get to New York City. The rest of the soldiers in his unit would arrive in New York on foot, almost two weeks after his own unit arrived. The jarheads from the Iron Horse Marines had left a few hours earlier, with about half their vehicles. He presumed their other vehicles were dead, like most of his own unit’s vehicles, and like these cars all over the road.

  From the driver, he heard a snarl. “God damn, more POVs, Sarge.”

  Taggart felt immediate irritation and clenched his fist. There had been few cars on the road at first, but as they approached Gettysburg it had grown worse. Approaching York, there were enough dead cars to block the roadway. He looked out the window and saw that the blockage was on a small bridge between the remote York Airport and the city proper.

  It took twenty minutes to get everyone turned around. They backtracked to the nearest turnabout and then continued north going the wrong way. He decided not to ask the CO of his little group why they hadn’t done so an hour ago. Soon enough it wouldn’t matter—a bit farther was York itself, which was almost guaranteed to be full of dead cars. Eventually, they’d have to stop and move some, slowing them down to a crawl.

  The miles strolled by and Taggart saw that the road into York was another Charlie Foxtrot, a clusterfuck of cars blocking the roadway. He checked his watch, a windup that still worked: 0815 hours. It had taken them four hours to get this far. In normal circumstances it would take only an hour more to get from Fort Doom all the way to New York City.

  Taggart calmed himself and prepared his mind for the long haul. After York would be more frustration, mile upon mile of road with a dozen little bridges to get stuck at, and the huge one at Susquehanna River. They would hit gridlock in Lancaster, before they could get off US-30 and onto I-76.

  “Alright apes, get out and clear these cars,” barked Taggart, and filed out with his soldiers to make sure they did so efficiently. He tasked a few soldiers to stand guard though it didn’t seem necessary. Still, Taggart took no chances.

  The slow going got even slower when the civilians who stayed in their cars protested being moved—they thought rescue had arrived—and complained when soldiers roughly pushed their cars out of one lane to clear it. They demanded answers, and transportation. They begged for help, any kind of help. When the soldiers ignored them they complained louder but, warier now, didn’t approach. That satisfied Taggart—his boys carried live ammo today, and he wanted no civilian casualties if he could avoid them.

  In a half hour, it was clear, and the soldiers rolled out, passing the cluster of roughly thirty people who had gathered. Of course, they wanted a ride, but there wasn’t room to take them all, nor did Taggart’s orders include slowing down to caravan civilians.

  The small convoy rolled out with Taggart looking somberly at the frightened civilians they left behind, wondering if events would prove they were luckier than the soldiers.

  - 3 -

  0800 HOURS - ZERO DAY

  AMANDA BLAKE WOKE to the sounds of her grandkids complaining. It was bright outside, the sunlight streaming through the curtains in her room, and she covered her eyes until they adjusted a bit.

  “Grandma Mandy,” came the chorus of outraged cries from the living room, and Mandy grumbled as she looked for her slippers. She straightened her nightgown and glanced at the alarm clock, wondering if it was time for school yet, but the clock was dead. She looked at her watch, a beautiful self-windin
g piece her late husband had given her when Cassy was born. It was a quarter after eight.

  “Why didn’t you wake me up, kids? You have school, and you know it takes a half-hour to get there from here. Lord bless you kids, but you’ll be late now,” she muttered to herself.

  Grandma Mandy, as the kids called her, was still uncoordinated from sleep. When she opened her bedroom door, she almost stumbled. “God bless it,” she said in frustration.

  Aidan, the younger grandchild, said, “Careful, Grandma. If you break a hip we can’t go to school.”

  Aidan was only seven, but had a twisted sense of humor already. This often irritated his grandmother, but just as often delighted her. She blamed his humor on his mother, letting him watch zombie shows and all those end-of-the-world disaster movies.

  “True, kiddo. But then I also couldn’t make you breakfast,” Mandy said with a grin. “So, why didn’t you kids wake me up when the bus came?”

  “Well, obviously because it never came, grandma,” replied Brianna, her oldest granddaughter, with a dramatic roll of her eyes. She was thirteen and tomboyish, still, and beginning to suffer the swinging moods of adolescence.

  “Oh, a hooky day, then. If your mom agrees, I’ll take y’all fishing, okay?” asked Mandy.

  Aidan’s eyes went wide with excitement as Mandy grabbed her cell phone off the counter, where she left it each night. But as she tried to turn it on, she cursed under her breath. “I hate these things. I can never get them to work right.”

  Aidan said, “Well, Brianna’s phone doesn’t work either. She couldn’t tweet to her boyfriend this morning.”

  Brianna ignored Aidan’s comments. “Grandma, the TV won’t work and the lights are out, too. It’s a blackout.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Why are the phones out, too? This is weird. Okay, kids, get dressed. We’re going fishing until the power comes back on.”