Getting Out: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (The EMP Book 1)

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Getting Out: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (The EMP Book 1) Page 13

by Ryan Westfield


  The rain was starting to fall as James pulled onto the road. The clouds looked ominous in front of them.

  Neither of them spoke. They were both worried. But they were doing what they thought was right. They were convinced they were making the best decision for their family.

  19

  Georgia

  Georgia must not have slept as much as she’d thought. Wait, had she slept at all? She was starting to feel delirious from lack of sleep, from hunger, from the fatigue of walking all day.

  She’d cruised right past the people whose car she was obviously driving. She wasn’t going to stop, not when the well-being of her family was at stake. But she felt a horrible nagging guilt that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Those women had looked so… helpless. They’d looked innocent. And she’d seen it on their faces. They simply couldn’t believe their bad luck.

  She tried to justify it to herself. Where did they need to go in a car anyway? They already had their house.

  But soon she was second guessing her own rationalizations.

  Well, the house hadn’t appeared to have a lot of food in it. Maybe they didn’t have much food left, and they would need to leave to get some.

  But where were they going to get food? It wasn’t like they’d be able to just drive to a grocery store. Even if there was one nearby, it would have been looted long ago. What’s more, it would be dangerous.

  The sky was a dark grey. The rain started falling. It was light at first, but after only a few minutes, it turned into an intense heavy downpour.

  So far, no lightning or thunder. But it really felt like a storm was developing. A heavy, intense storm.

  The road didn’t have good drainage. Instead of being formed like a crown, sloping down on the sides, it was the reverse of that. The road was shaped like a U, so that water quickly accumulated in the center of it.

  Some parts of the road were already flooded.

  Georgia had driven trucks as long as she could remember, and she didn’t feel confident in the abilities of this little foreign compact car.

  Maybe she should have gone looking for a better car, a truck or something. But she knew there were few houses around here. She would have had to walk perhaps an entire extra day.

  She was worried about Sadie and James. She hoped nothing had happened to them. She hoped no one had come along to do them harm.

  Georgia was going down a long and steep descent. There was a curve coming up ahead, and she slowed down a little. But maybe not enough. After all, she was anxious to get back to James and Sadie.

  It happened fast. Maybe it was the water. Or maybe Georgia was driving too fast on the curve.

  But the next thing she knew, the car lost control.

  Shitty ass tires, was the last thought she had, before the car left the road completely and hit a tree.

  The impact wasn’t that hard. Surprisingly soft, actually. But she felt jolted, and a little dazed.

  The airbag deployed perfectly, just as it should have. It worked beautifully, cushioning what would have been a nasty bashing against the steering wheel.

  The engine still running, Georgia tried her seatbelt. But it was jammed.

  She knew what was happening, despite being dazed. She didn’t stop and cry. She didn’t give up. She didn’t feel sorry for herself.

  Instead, she did what she had to do. She was slowly able to fish her pocket knife from her jeans. She flicked it open, cut the seatbelt, and then punctured the airbag for good measure, allowing her to get out of the car easily.

  She stood, slightly dazed, next to the car. It didn’t look like there was any way the car would be able to get out of there on its own. She didn’t think that it was severely damaged, but it was definitely stuck.

  She got back in and put the car in reverse. But the wheels just spun. Yeah, she’d been right, there was no way it was going to get out.

  She killed the engine, pocketed the keys, and started to walk down the road.

  Georgia realized that she wasn’t that far away from the women she’d passed, the women she’d stolen the car from.

  She walked for less than a minute, when she realized that her ankle must have been twisted.

  She tried to push on, simply gritting her teeth and continuing, but the pain was completely overwhelming. Each step she took was pure agony.

  She looked behind her. There was no sign of the three women. And what motivation did they have to follow her? They couldn’t have thought they would have any chance of catching up to her on foot.

  But then again, there was the possibility that they’d heard the crash and would come to investigate.

  The rain was pouring down.

  For the first time, Georgia heard the tremendous crack of thunder far away in the sky.

  It startled her. She was soaking wet, already drenched to the bone, and shivering.

  She sat down on the side of the road to consider her options. There was no way she was going to make it back on this ankle alone.

  But she was resourceful, and she wasn’t going to give up just yet, especially when the safety of her kids was at stake.

  So she found a small sapling, fished out her pocket knife, and set to work cutting it down as best she could. She made the cuts at an angle, and used the non-serrated blade to make sawing motions. She bent the sapling down from the top, using the pressure to increase the effectiveness of her cuts. She didn’t know much about bushcrafting, but she must have understood some of the basics, because it worked.

  In less than ten minutes, she was back on the road, using the cut sapling as a rudimentary crutch.

  She gritted her teeth through the pain and used the crutch to help her damaged ankle. She still had to put some weight on it, but it was better than before. Soon the crutch was digging horribly into her armpit, but she did the best she could. She stopped in the pouring rain and picked up some soaking wet dead leaves on the side of the road. She stuffed them into the crook of her armpit to use as padding against the end of the sapling.

  But it was still hurting. So she stopped yet again, took off her soaking wet shirt. She balled that up, then stuffed the leaves inside the shirt. It made a much better pad for the crutch, and she was able to walk at a slow yet purposeful pace down the road.

  She was freezing, wearing just her bra. But the shirt wouldn’t have helped much anyway.

  Georgia hadn’t seen rain this intense in a long, long time. She could barely see more than twenty yards in front of her.

  The thunder was getting closer, and she saw lightning in the distance. The storm was upon her.

  As she moved, her large breasts bobbled in front of her. The bra was soaked and had become uncomfortable when wet. The straps dug into her skin. She considered taking off the bra, but her breasts had always been uncomfortably big without a bra when doing any physical activity.

  There was a sound behind her. It was hard, if not impossible, to tell what it was, because of the noise of the growing storm, the cracks of thunder, and the pounding rain.

  But there it was. She heard it now. It was a scream. A human screaming, cutting through the rain.

  Georgia stopped and turned around, supporting herself as best she could on the crutch.

  She felt vulnerable for the first time in a long time. Maybe it wasn’t wearing a shirt, having her breasts exposed in the soaking bra, having the crutch, being impossibly fatigued and hungry. Whatever it was, it was a new feeling for her, and she didn’t like it. She didn’t feel ready to confront whoever it was that was coming.

  Her mind turned to the women whose car she’d taken. It must have been them.

  She felt guilty and stupid. She’d stolen their car and gotten it stuck. What had been the point of all this? She felt like a failure. But she wasn’t just going to sit in the woods and wait to die. She was going to do what she had to do to get back to her kids. If that meant fighting off these women, then that would be what she had to do.

  “Hey! Yeah, you!”

  Georgia still coul
dn’t see the women through the thick rain. Not yet. They must have been right out of her sight.

  Georgia took the crutch from the ground and held it like a club. She was ready to defend herself.

  She was wobbly on her legs, her ankle about to give out.

  She was so tired it wasn’t until she finally saw the woman approaching that she remembered she had two guns with her.

  But was she ready to use it? Ready to defend herself against someone who she’d wronged?

  The three women appeared before her. They were soaking in the rain. Their faces were contorted in pure anger. They were ready. For what, Georgia didn’t know.

  20

  Max

  The rain was falling heavily, and Max could hear thunder in the distance. The ground was already turning to a thick mud, and Max was glad that he’d changed into boots earlier.

  His stomach was empty and his wrist was killing him. He was looking forward to getting back in the Jeep, driving to a safe, secluded spot, and finally setting up the camping stove. They still had a ton of perishable food taken from his refrigerator as well as Mandy’s. The stuff from the refrigerator was not chilled, but some of it might still be good. He’d be willing to eat just about anything now.

  He knew that he’d taken a couple pounds of frozen chicken.

  Despite his misgivings about the situation, Max realized that in a way Mandy was right.

  These guys and the people in the town were in the same situation that Max and Mandy were.

  They passed by the Jeep.

  “I just want to check on Chad,” said Max. Really, he wanted to make sure that everything was there.

  He did a once over on the Jeep. The keys were still in it. And everything inside seemed to still be there.

  Chad was lying on his back in the mud next to the Jeep. The rain was falling heavily on him, and he was already soaked.

  “How you doing, Chad?” said Max. “Those guys hurt you bad?”

  “Nah, man,” said Chad. His voice had a dreamy, happy quality to it. “I’m good, man. I’m good.”

  “You got your pills, then?” said Max, not bothering to hide the disgust in his voice.

  “Yeah, man, I’m all right.”

  Max left him there lying in the mud. Chad didn’t seem to care that he was wet and muddy.

  Max wondered briefly why he’d bothered rescuing Chad. Maybe he’d have been better off getting beaten to death by that mob. That was a horrible thought, but that was what it was.

  Max joined Mandy and the men. They introduced themselves to each other, shaking hands.

  It was a little awkward at first, considering what had happened.

  Mandy and Max told them about the men Max had knocked out in the back of the store. The men had just laughed it off, and gone to check to see if he was OK.

  That guy’s name was Jim, and he joined them.

  Once his buddies explained to him that Max and Mandy definitely weren’t foreign spies, he warmed up to them a little more, and he warmed up to them even further when he heard that they were going to check on Tod’s sick dad.

  Tod’s house was up a little side street. The six of them trudged through the rain together, chatting idly.

  Max was tired and exhausted and he knew that Mandy was too. The men, however, were much better fed. They’d been up all night, but they’d been eating hot dogs.

  When Max asked them about it, it turned out the majority of them had large basements full of canned and nonperishable foods. They might not have been outright preppers, but they definitely were in that general area.

  Tod’s house was cluttered, and it was clear that he didn’t have much money.

  His wife and his two kids were introduced. They seemed like a sweet family.

  Max pondered on how strange it was that an hour ago, they’d all been convinced the other party were dangerous enemies. Now, Max and Mandy were invited into the house, shaking hands with Tod’s wife, saying hi to the kids.

  Tod’s wife had set out candles, which made the place seem not as creepy as it otherwise would have been, without power, the rain pounding down on the roof.

  “Yup,” said one of the men. Max couldn’t remember his name. Names had never been his strong suit. “Looks like a storm’s really starting outside.”

  It was true. Max could feel it in his bones. He was feeling worried about moving on out, but he had the idea that maybe he, Mandy, and Chad would be invited to stay here for the night, and continue on the next morning.

  “Where’s your dad?” said Mandy.

  “He’s upstairs.”

  Tod led them upstairs. It was just Tod, Mandy, and Max. The rest stayed downstairs, huddled around the warmth of the fire.

  Max wished he was downstairs too, drying out. He wished he could eat, and fall asleep by the fire, and never have to worry again about the difficult journey ahead of them.

  It hadn’t been that long since the EMP, but already he was fatigued beyond the point he would have thought possible.

  What was more, he didn’t know why they were going to see this sick man. It wasn’t like Max was a doctor. He’d worked in an office, and medical care and first aid were weak points of his.

  “Were you ever a nurse or something?” whispered Max to Mandy, as he followed her up the stairs.

  She shook her head. “I thought maybe we could help.”

  Max sighed. He just didn’t see how they were going to help.

  He couldn’t help checking out Mandy’s ass as he followed her up the stairs. Even wearing pants, her legs looked long, shapely, and athletic, and her ass was muscular, firm, yet just large enough. And her pants being soaked didn’t help keep Max’s attention away. His eyes felt drawn to it like a magnet.

  “Pop,” said Tod, already entering his father’s room. “There are some people here to see you. They wanted to see how you’re doing… We thought they were foreign spies, but it turns out they’re just from Pennsylvania like us.”

  “Aw, shucks,” said Max, walking into the room. “Yeah, turns out we weren’t spies at all…”

  Tod gave Max a confused look. Max supposed he himself was still a little bitter about the whole being imprisoned experience. And he also supposed that Tod wasn’t really up on sarcasm, or irony, or whatever it was Max was employing.

  “How are you doing, sir?” said Mandy, kneeling down by the man.

  He was propped up in his chair, various pillows helping to support him.

  Max studied him. He looked like he was dying all right. Max knew that dialysis was serious business. Without it, this man would die, and there wasn’t anything he or Mandy could do about it.

  Max knew that Mandy must have already known that. But she was a deeply caring person in a lot of ways. She wanted to confront the suffering of others head on. She didn’t want to run away from it.

  Max wasn’t sure whether he wanted to run away from it or not.

  The man looked really sick. Max hadn’t seen someone in this bad of shape for a long, long time. He had a slightly blueish tint to his skin, and he was breathing laboriously.

  “How’s it going, sir?” said Mandy again.

  “She asked how you’re doing, Pop,” said Tod.

  The man looked at Tod and then at Mandy. His eyes went down to her breasts, and he stared at them for a moment.

  “Good to see some nice sights around here,” he said.

  “Don’t listen to him,” said Tod, blushing in embarrassment for what his father had said.

  “It’s fine,” said Mandy. “How are you feeling, sir?”

  “Pain,” said the man, his face going blank. “Pain, nothing but pain.”

  Mandy looked at Max, who shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly. He didn’t see why they were here, except that Mandy had too big of a heart.

  “Come on, Mandy,” he said. “We should be getting out of here.” There went his dreams of sleeping by the fire and having a good meal before getting back on the seemingly never ending road, filled with rain and storms,
and countless obstacles that he still had yet to cross.

  “Pain,” said the man. “I knew it would end soon. I had a feeling about this. When the power went out, I shrugged it off. But then my kids were telling me their phones weren’t working. I’m headed out, and that’s fine. I had a good run, I just didn’t know the end would seem so bleak and… painful. I just…”

  He slumped a little in his chair, tired with the fatigue of having to speak for so long.

  “What are you giving him for the pain?” said Mandy.

  Max didn’t know what kind of pain the guy would be in. Max associated pain with broken wrists, broken bones, blunt trauma, that sort of thing. Maybe back pain, too, not that he’d ever had much of an issue with that.

  “Just some aspirin,” grunted Tod. “We don’t have much more than that.”

  “Well, what about those pills Chad has?” she said to Max.

  “I’ll go get them,” said Max instantly.

  Chad didn’t need those damn pills. But this guy did.

  “I’ll be right back,” said Max, nodding to Tod, who nodded back.

  Max jogged down the stairs despite his growing fatigue. His wrist was still killing him.

  The rain outside was heavy, but Max was already wet. The thunder was crashing all around. It sounded like a bowling alley on steroids. Lightning flickered in the sky. The wind was intense. The trees swayed in the gusts like they would fall over.

  The town looked different in the rain and the storm. It looked like a little oasis, a little haven being battered by the forces of nature.

  Max knew that his own journey was changing. That was what the storm meant to him. So far, he’d escaped the clutches of his dying civilization. He’d battled other humans. He’d shot two of them. He’d done what he had to do to get out.

  The further out he got, the less people he would encounter. That was going to be the big change for Max, and whoever was going to come with him.

  Max knew what the future held. It was this storm. This storm was it.

  Max would be facing nature, wild and intense, dangerous and possibly disastrous. There wasn’t any way to prepare for that. Sure, he had some gear. He had the Jeep. He had the guns.

 

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