After the EMP (Book 5): Chaos Gains

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After the EMP (Book 5): Chaos Gains Page 2

by Harley Tate


  “I take it you like your parents?”

  He glowered. “I love them. They have to be worried sick. Not knowing if I’m all right, wondering about Gran and Granddad. I know they’ll be coming home, but I want to talk to them. See them.” He tossed the phone on the ground and tore his hands through his hair. “If they don’t come back soon, what’s going to happen to all of us?”

  Dani didn’t know what to say. Her mother only used her when convenient. Her father died before she could remember. Only her own grandmother cared for her like Will’s parents must care for him. But her grandmother was gone.

  She pushed the grief down with a dry swallow. Puffery wasn’t really her thing. “What if they don’t come back? What are you going to do?”

  Will’s head jerked up, his lashes wet. He stared at her, nostrils flaring like a bull about to charge.

  Dani held up her hands. “Just asking.”

  “They’ll come back. They have to.” Will scooped up his useless electronics in a rush and fled the room.

  The second he disappeared, Dani exhaled in relief. After years of living with her mother and now the failure of the power grid, Dani almost forgot normal families existed. Homes where moms and dads hugged their kids and cooked them dinner. Where floors were clean and the heat didn’t shut off in the winter because no one could pay the bill.

  Dani stared out at the oak, following the path of each bent and twisted branch like an arm of a convoluted family tree. Her eyes grew dry and she blinked, but didn’t turn away.

  “Staring out into the abyss won’t do you any good. Come on in here and help me with these peas.”

  Dani spun around. Mrs. Wilkins stood in the doorway, a pleasant smile brightening her face.

  “Me? You want my help?”

  “I don’t see anyone else in here.” Mrs. Wilkins turned around and headed toward the kitchen and Dani followed. She eased into the small space and lingered beside the table.

  Mrs. Wilkins sat down and motioned at the sink. “Use some of that hand sanitizer on the counter and pull up a chair. My arthritis is acting up this morning.”

  Dani did as instructed, pumping a glob of clear gel into her hand and rubbing until it evaporated. She pulled out a wooden chair and sat on the worn calico pad. A bowl of things that looked like green beans sat in front of Mrs. Wilkins. “I thought you said peas?”

  “I did.” She plucked one from the bowl and held it up. “Alaska peas from my garden out back.”

  “Those look like funny green beans.”

  Mrs. Wilkins paused, the vegetable frozen in mid-air. “Gracious. Don’t tell me you’ve never shelled a pea.”

  “I didn’t even know they grew like that.”

  Mrs. Wilkins laughed, thick and hearty, and her glasses slid down her nose. “Well, I never. Let me show you how it’s done.” Holding the bean-thing in one hand, she grabbed the free end in a pincher grip.

  “First you take the pea pod and you pinch the end like this. If you squeeze hard enough the whole pod should just pop open.” She demonstrated, pressing her fingers together until the pea pod split. As she spread the outside apart, a row of little peas emerged. “Then you open it, dump the peas in the bowl and put the empty pod in the bag. Make sense?”

  Dani nodded.

  “Now you try.”

  She picked up a pea pod and frowned. “Peas grow like beans?”

  “Yep. If you ever split a green bean open, you’ll see little seeds inside too, just like this. These are Alaska peas, the earliest pea there is. They can grow here year round.”

  Dani didn’t know a thing about gardening, but to see so many peas come out of a tiny plot the size of a pickup truck out back made her head spin. “How long have you been a gardener?”

  Mrs. Wilkins whistled. “All my life. My father ran a farm on the coast. Every year when I was a kid I picked beans for the local farmers. Down one side of the row and up the next.”

  “Did it pay well?”

  “Enough to buy my clothes for the school year and give my mom a bit besides.”

  “How old were you?”

  Mrs. Wilkins talked while she shelled, never once stopping work. “I started when I was ten, did it every summer until the farm got bought out by a corporation and trucked in migrant labor.”

  Dani opened a pod as Mrs. Wilkins showed her and dumped the bright green peas into the bowl. “So all that time, you were making money in the summer? Could you have done it during the year, too?”

  “Sure. After beans came lettuce and berries and a whole bunch of other crops.” Mrs. Wilkins dumped another set of peas into the bowl before reaching for a pod. While they worked, she explained all about the different crops in Oregon and what grew when and how best to plant them.

  Dani couldn’t believe it. Never once had she thought about growing her own food or working the land to earn money. “I’ve never been to a farm.”

  “Not once?”

  Dani shook her head and grabbed another pod, copying Mrs. Wilkins’s movements as she squeezed the end and dumped the peas into the bowl. “I’ve always lived in town.”

  “That’s no reason not to get out and visit the country. Didn’t your folks ever take you out for a drive?”

  The pea pod slipped from her fingers and landed in her lap. Dani reached for it, head down. “My dad died when I was little.” She hesitated, trying to find the right words. “My mom wasn’t much for that sort of thing.”

  The older woman reached out and patted Dani’s shoulder. “Well that’s a shame. If we ever figure a way out of this house, I’m taking you to a farm. First thing.”

  A lump rose in Dani’s throat, but she concentrated on the work, plucking pods from one bowl before popping them open and sliding the peas into the other. She didn’t know Mrs. Wilkins. The woman could offer platitudes every day of the week with no intention of fulfilling them. But Dani wanted to believe her.

  She sneaked a glance at the older woman. Younger than Gran, but a lot older than her mom, Mrs. Wilkins possessed a calm quality of self-assurance Dani lacked. “Would you ever leave here?”

  Mrs. Wilkins plucked a pod from the bowl, nodding as she popped it open. “If necessary, yes.”

  “But what about your garden?”

  She glanced at the wall ahead. Past it, the little garden sat in the sun. “I’ll harvest everything I can, save as many seeds as possible, and go.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Mm-hmm. Life is all about facing challenges head on. You can’t take a back seat in your own life. It’s only as good as the effort you put into it.” Mrs. Wilkins scooped the last handful of pods from the bowl and handed a couple to Dani. “Let’s get this finished and I’ll show you how to make a fresh pea salad.”

  Dani glanced at the empty doorway. She wanted to know what Colt and Mr. Wilkins were talking about in the front room. Assembling a rebellion? Attacking the army? Running away in the middle of the night?

  She would help Mrs. Wilkins with the salad, but after that, she would find out what they had planned no matter what.

  Chapter Three

  COLT

  Wilkins Residence

  Eugene, Oregon

  11:30 a.m.

  Harvey Wilkins stood at the front picture window, staring through the lace curtains at the solemn street beyond. Colt imagined on a typical day that same street would be bustling with activity. Cars pulling out, joggers trotting past, kids on bikes, and dogs on leashes.

  Thanks to Colonel Jarvis and his men occupying the town, everything changed. He stopped beside Harvey and nodded hello.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Colt bobbed and weaved like a boxer. “Pretty good. I can’t thank you enough for rescuing me and Dani the other day. Without your help, we’d be at the mercy of the army by now.”

  Harvey almost spat on the beige carpet. “They aren’t the army. Not anymore. They’re a militia.”

  Colt agreed. The National Guard unit stationed at the University of Oregon wasn’t ta
king orders from the United States. They couldn’t be. He rubbed at a sore spot on his good arm. “Melody said the unit inspected homes, took all the weapons and ammunition.”

  “Mm-hmm. They’re going block-by-block in a cascading grid. Started with the streets closest to the University and fanned out from there.”

  “That’s why some of the shops are untouched.”

  “Exactly. They got here before the town devolved into chaos and instituted order right away. The college kids didn’t have a chance to get rowdy. The militia cleared them out. Every student who had a place to go, got sent on their way with a backpack full of food and water.”

  Colt blinked. “Why?”

  Harvey turned to him, the lines of his face deepening into a scowl. “My guess is to eliminate the threat. University of Oregon has over twenty thousand students. That’s a lot of able-bodied young men.”

  “Who might not like to be corralled into line and told what to do.”

  “Yep.”

  It made sense from a tactical standpoint: eliminate the hordes of young people who could form an insurgency and take over the space they vacated. Colonel Jarvis would never earn Colt’s respect, but the man planned well. Now he controlled a massive college campus with access to cafeterias, medical facilities, and tons of dorms. Add in all the crowd control supplies from port-a-potties to temporary showers and warehouses full of food and Jarvis could live like a king.

  Or a despot.

  “How familiar are you with the University?”

  Harvey ran his fingers down and around his mouth. A perpetual five o’clock shadow lurked beneath his skin despite an apparent shave. “My bookstore catered to college kids. We sold used textbooks, required reading, and a bunch of used paperbacks, that sort of thing. So I know a little, but I’m no expert.”

  “How much food and water would you guess the militia, as you call it, has stockpiled?”

  “Enough for a good long while. Even if the college supplies are running low, they’ve secured every store in town.” Harvey stepped away from the window and motioned for Colt to follow. He perched on the edge of a worn plaid sofa and pointed at a map spread out on the coffee table. “We’re here and the University is here.”

  Colt figured the distance to be about two miles.

  “Between us and the University are a ton of shops. A couple grocery stores, my bookstore, a hardware store, and a whole bunch more.”

  “The sporting goods store across from your shop.”

  Harvey nodded. “The militia cleared every single one. A few had been looted, probably by people passing through on their way north, but most were still intact. We might be a college town, but the locals still know each other. These stores are run by everyday folks who don’t need to loot and rob to get by.”

  Colt thought back to the sporting goods store and the bodies he found inside. “What happened when someone resisted?”

  “My best guess? They killed them.”

  “I found a family in the sporting goods place. They’d been shot at close range and left to rot. Even the kid.”

  Harvey closed his eyes for a moment. “I feared that was the case. The Millers were good people, but Chuck wouldn’t take a military confiscation lying down. He wasn’t the stand back and let it happen sort.”

  “Neither am I.”

  “Watching you walk away from a burning truck and a bunch of dead militiamen, I came to that same conclusion.”

  Colt snorted. “Would have been nice to get a bit of assistance there.”

  Harvey’s eyes darkened. “I didn’t know if I could trust you.” He paused. “Still don’t, to be honest.”

  Colt understood the man’s hesitation. He shared it. “Better to be cautious than foolhardy. I hear you.”

  “What are your plans?”

  Colt hedged. “Depends on yours, I guess.”

  The wrinkles around Harvey’s eyes crinkled as he squinted. “I don’t follow.”

  “You called your little group of people ‘the Resistance.’ Did you mean that? Or was it just a throwaway name that popped into your head?”

  “I meant it.” Harvey straightened, his chest swelling with determination. “I won’t become anyone’s servant.”

  Colt lowered his voice. “What about everyone else? Your wife? Grandson? Doug and Melody?”

  Harvey leaned back, spreading one arm across the length of the sofa cushions. “We’re the only people in the neighborhood who care. Everyone else sees the military uniforms and thinks they’re saved. Hell, half of them think the power’s coming back on.”

  “But you’re not that delusional?”

  Harvey blew out a breath. “Not in that way. Talk to me about the Ducks and their rank in the Pac-12 and you might glimpse my crazy.”

  Colt chuckled and the latent tension in the room eased. “I’m a good man, Harvey, and Dani and I appreciate the hospitality.”

  “Speaking of,” Harvey focused on the open doorway leading to the kitchen, “how did you and Dani meet? She told us you aren’t related.”

  “I convinced an army soldier that detaining her for stealing wasn’t in his best interest. After that we stuck together.”

  “She got any family? Gloria tried to ask before you woke up, but the girl shut down completely.”

  Colt shook his head. “Not anymore. Well, her mother’s still alive, but she’s worthless. Father and grandmother are dead. I’m afraid I’m the closest she’s got to family now.”

  “Poor kid.”

  “Tell me about it. I’m terrible with anything domestic.”

  Harvey smiled and the years of age peeled away. He could have been a decade younger, maybe more. Give him some brown hair instead of gray, and the man could pass for forty with a grin. “Gloria says the same thing about me. Calls me hopeless in the kitchen.”

  The two of them traded stories back and forth for a while, Colt about his time as an air marshal and a SEAL before that, Harvey about growing up in rural Oregon and the opening of his bookstore almost twenty years before.

  Falling into a comfortable rhythm, Colt almost forgot about the end of the world and the bounty on his head. After a while, he confronted it head on. “You know Colonel Jarvis is out for my blood, right?”

  “I figured as much.”

  “Then you know how much danger your family is in right now.”

  “I’ve got a pretty good guess.”

  “And you’re all right with that?”

  Harvey pulled off the couch and drew Colt’s attention back to the map. “The way I figure it, they’ve got to control most of town south of the Willamette River and all the way west to the airport. I don’t know if they’ve taken over the entire city, but it’s only a matter of time.”

  He pointed out their neighborhood and drew an imaginary line around where he believed the militia controlled. “We’re so far inside the line that they aren’t focused on us right now. It’s too big of an area to police 24/7. We’re talking forty square miles if they occupy the entire town, more if they spread to the populated areas outside the city limits or across the river to Springfield.”

  “How are they controlling access?”

  “Roadblocks and barricades, mostly. All the bridges are under their control with Humvees blocking anyone from coming or going. They’ve also siphoned all the cars and shut down all the gas stations. There’s no fuel for miles.”

  Damn. Colt ran a hand through his hair. “How many soldiers, do you guess?”

  “I don’t know. Hundreds.”

  Colt nodded. A lieutenant colonel like Jarvis would be in command of a battalion at least. Even assuming massive attrition due to the collapse of the grid, there could easily be three hundred soldiers under his command. Maybe more.

  There would be no way to take them out. They couldn’t fight them directly. It would be a suicide mission. But Harvey had a point. Even five hundred soldiers would be a thin force for such a large city. Confiscating weapons and gas and rationing water would help control the masses, but t
he army couldn’t be everywhere. Add in the hesitation he heard from Sergeant Gunther when Jarvis ordered him to kill civilians and the odds improved.

  Maybe it wouldn’t be impossible. “Do you want to fight?”

  “I—”

  The front door to the house slammed open and Melody’s brother burst inside. His chest heaved from exertion and sweat bloomed across his pale shirt.

  Harvey stood up. “Doug? What’s going on?”

  Doug shut the door and rushed to the window. He pulled back the curtain and peered up the street, eyes focused, head bent. “A patrol is coming.”

  “It’s a little early for a water delivery, isn’t it?”

  Doug shook his head. “Not water. It’s a Humvee with a gun mounted on the top.”

  Colt surged to his feet. “A turret mount? Those are fifty cal at least. You only use those to blow something to bits.”

  Doug dropped the curtain. “You need to hide. They’re coming.”

  Chapter Four

  COLT

  Wilkins Residence

  Eugene, Oregon

  12:30 p.m.

  Colt spun around as Dani, Melody, and Gloria rushed into the room.

  “What’s going on?” Dani’s eyes shifted back and forth, looking first at Doug and then back at Colt.

  “The army’s here patrolling. Doug wants us to hide.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  Colt answered honestly. “Stay up here and help.”

  “No way.” Doug sliced his hands in a chopping motion across his chest. “Not gonna happen. If those guys find out you’re here, we’re all in trouble.”

  “He’s right.” Melody stepped forward with her little dog, shoving the fluffy thing in his direction. “You need to get into the basement now. Take Lottie with you.”

  Colt froze. Take it? He stared at the five pounds of fur and slobber. Animals weren’t his thing. He’d rather be in a dirt hole in the desert, fending off a hundred hostiles.

  “I’ll get her.” Dani rushed up and scooped the dog into her arms. It pawed her chest and licked her cheek and she giggled.

 

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