Blackout: A Tale Of Survival In A Powerless World- Book 1

by Alexandria Clarke

  BLACKOUT BOOK 1

  ALEXANDRIA CLARKE

  CONTENTS

  Blackout Book 1

  Prequel- Blackout Book 0

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  About the Author

  BLACKOUT BOOK 1

  Copyright 2017 All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means without prior written permission, except for brief excerpts in reviews or analysis

  Created with Vellum

  PREQUEL- BLACKOUT BOOK 0

  Download the Free Prequel- Click Here

  No power, no water, no emergency services, and hundreds dying by the day. This is Georgie Fitz’s reality when an EMP bomb goes off over her home in Denver, Colorado. As one of the few who knows how to survive the start of an apocalypse, she sets out with her boyfriend to escape the city. After all, the darkness of the Rockies is safer than the violence in the streets.

  Download the Free Prequel- Click Here

  1

  *** The free prequel is available in the TOC and front matter of this book***

  The growl of the Humvee’s powerful engine loosened rabbits and raccoons from beneath thick bushes and sent them scurrying for quieter hiding places. Headlights pointed straight ahead, toward a twenty-foot gate reinforced with steel and barbed wire. The window buzzed down. A big man with a bigger gun approached the driver’s side. His gaze ran the length of the Humvee before scanning the inside. Inquisitive gray eyes scrutinized our faces. Six people packed into one truck with all of the supplies that we could carry. The overweight driver in an extra-large Ralph Lauren sweater with a supercilious sneer. The half-conscious trophy wife, her thigh wrapped in bloodstained gauze. The pregnant seventeen-year-old who was so far along that she couldn’t see her own feet. The petite medical student whose pretty, angled cheekbones were more suited for a runway than an operating room. The wannabe photojournalist—my fiancé or ex-fiancé, depending on how recently you asked him—with soft brown eyes who spent too much time in the gym and not enough seeking the work he claimed to be so committed to. And me. The nobody. Who was I really? A radio persona. A talk show host. A voice without a face. The only person in the Humvee with any inclination as to what we were up against.

  The man tugged his ski mask off, resting his rifle across his chest. “Evening, folks. What can we help you with?”

  “What the hell is this place?” I asked. “Where’s my father?”

  “I don’t know who you are, ma’am, but this is Camp Haven.”

  The first light of the morning peeked over the horizon and crept through the trees, reaching its long arms across the stretch of land confined within the towering fence line. Nine years ago, I’d left this exact spot without looking back. I’d hiked hours across the Rockies until I made it to Denver. The busy roads and bustling coffee shops and the sheer amount of people were a far cry from the home I’d left behind, but Camp Haven wasn’t home. Home was one log cabin and an underground bunker and acres upon acres of undisturbed property. Home was a fire in the hearth and wild game on the table. Home was my father without his wife, me without my mother, doing our damnedest to make the world mean something again. It was the place that I counted on to be there, no matter what befell the rest of society.

  “You don’t understand.” I peered up at the sign above the gate. Someone had shaped thick wire into the title of the homestead, spray-painted it red, and mounted it to the top of the wall that enclosed the camp’s perimeter. “This is my father’s property. My property. This is my home.”

  The large man ducked his head to get a better look at me through the driver’s window. “Camp Haven’s been here for a good six or seven years, ma’am. You must be confused. Tough times like these will do that to you.”

  “I’m not confused!”

  The man’s fingers tightened on his rifle as the volume and tenacity of my voice stirred a sparrow from the nearby trees. Our driver, Jove, pushed me off of his armrest. A mere hour ago, he was my soon-to-be father-in-law. Now he was just a wealthy man with a working vehicle and a poor attitude toward me.

  “Sorry about Georgie,” Jove said. “She’s been on edge since the blast. We’re looking for a place to stay.”

  “Can’t stay here,” the man said.

  “This is my land—” I started.

  “Do you know what’s going on out there?” Jove jabbed his thumb behind us, toward the city that we had left in ruins. “Do you know what Denver looks like right now?”

  The man hefted his rifle to rest on his hip. “I can imagine. Most people don’t know their ass from a hole in the ground. Can’t fathom what an EMP bomb did to them.”

  “So you know,” I said, nudging Jove aside. “You know what Denver—and the rest of the United States—is going through right now.”

  “Of course we know,” the man replied. “It’s our job to know. That’s why we’re still standing, miss. Camp Haven doesn’t rely on electricity or technology. We’re off the grid.”

  Less than thirty-six hours ago, life as we knew it had ended. Someone—terrorists, North Korea, Russia, whatever—had detonated an atmospheric bomb over the United States. The resulting electromagnetic pulse had knocked out anything that ran on electricity, circuit boards, or batteries. The only reason our Humvee worked was because it was a military original. It didn’t rely on any electronic components to run. It was by the miracle of my unusual upbringing that I’d managed to get those closest to me out of the war zone that Denver had morphed into. People were dying in droves. Emergency services either ignored or couldn’t reach those who needed help. The streets were rife with looters and violence. The mountains, where people were few and far between, were safer.

  The man outside the window extended his hand toward Jove. When they connected, it was like fusing the same end of two D batteries to each other. They were of the same make—each of substantial height and weight—but while Jove’s girth boasted excess and gluttony, the other man’s spoke of strength out of necessity.

  “Let me introduce myself,” the man said, pumping Jove’s hand. They each squeezed so hard that the skin around their fingers turned white. “Name’s Ludo. I’m the head of security here at Camp Haven. My main goal is to keep this place running as smoothly as possible, which sometimes means making difficult decisions. This is one of them. I can’t let you in.”

  “Listen to me,” I said, annoyed that this Ludo fellow was determined to speak with Jove instead of me. I was the one who’d gotten us this far. “My name is Georgiana Fitz. My father is Amos Fitz. This is his land. He built that cabin—” I pointed through a gap in the reinforced fence, where smoke plumed from the chimney of my old home “—with his bare hands. I helped him do it.”

  “Don’t know anyone by the name of Fitz,” Ludo said. “A brave man by the name of Sylvester built Camp Haven from the ground up.”

  “Sylvester who?”

  “No matter. Can’t let you in.”

  The trunk of the Humvee popped open, and Jacob—non-fiancé, ex-boyfriend, whatever he was now—slid out from between the duffel bags and backpacks full of our supplies. Ludo raised his gun and took a step back from the truck. Three other men were stationed at the gates to Camp Haven, and each of them lifted their rifles as Jacob rounded the Humvee. He lifted his hands to eye level and stopped several feet from Ludo’s barrel.

  “My n
ame is Jacob Mason,” he said. “This is my father, Jove, and my fianceé, Georgie. My mother, Penny, is sitting in the backseat. A shard of glass went through her thigh. She needs stitches. My sister, Pippa, is eight months pregnant. She needs somewhere warm and dry to recuperate. We already have a medic, Nita, and our own supplies. All we need is a safe place to crash.”

  Ludo lowered his rifle a bit. “A medic, you say?”

  “A med student,” Nita muttered from the open trunk. I shushed her.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” Ludo said. “Camp Haven relies on the skills and prowess of its members to stay up and running. We do everything ourselves. Cook, clean, build, hunt, et cetera. Everyone pulls their weight. If you can prove to me that each of you has something to bring to the table, I’ll let you in. The medic’s valuable enough, so she’s good to go. Who else you got?”

  “You guys got communications?” I asked at once. “Looks like a big ass camp. Five hundred acres or so, right? I imagine you need handheld radios to get messages from one end to the other.”

  Ludo lifted his broad shoulders. “No radios, no tower. It’s old-fashioned smoke signals and bird calls here at Camp Haven.”

  “I could build one for you,” I offered. “A tower, I mean. Radios too. It would do you a lot of good in case of emergencies. Or you can keep whistling at each other. Your choice.”

  Ludo considered my proposition. “Fine. Miss Fitz is in. Who’s next?”

  “I can do manual labor,” Jacob said. I swallowed a sharp scoff. Jacob Mason, who had never lifted anything other than a weight plate at the gym in his entire life, was offering himself up for manual labor? “You said you build everything yourselves. I can help with that and whatever else you need. I’m young, fit, and strong. Put me anywhere.”

  “Mason Junior’s in,” Ludo barked. He leaned against the window of the Humvee. “What about Mason Senior?”

  Jove eyed Ludo’s thick forearm. “I brought the truck. I imagine it’ll do you some good.”

  Ludo thumped his fist against the door panel of the Humvee. “Until it runs out of gas. No good. What else you got?”

  Pippa, who had been quiet until now, unbuckled her seatbelt from her wide belly and popped up between the two front seats. “Excuse me, Mister Ludo—”

  “Just Ludo, kid.”

  “Right,” she said. “Ludo, I’ve been sitting in this terrible truck for several hours and I was stuck in an elevator overnight before that. Long story short, I really have to pee. Think of this Humvee as the Titanic. Would you deny a pregnant teenager a lifeboat? Women and children and all that, right?”

  Ludo’s bushy white beard, which spilled over the collar of his thick Kevlar jacket, bristled as he tried to keep from smiling. “Smart one, aren’t you? Fine. You’re in. Next?”

  “What about Penny?” I asked. Jacob’s mother was as white as a clean sheet in the backseat. She had lost a lot of blood, and if we didn’t get her leg stitched up soon, I feared she might not recover from the wound.

  Ludo squinted into the backseat. “She’s not looking good. My bet is she’d be a waste of resources.”

  “A waste of resources?” Jacob stepped toward Ludo, who automatically raised his weapon again. “That’s my mother you’re talking about.”

  Ludo nudged Jacob with the butt of his gun. “Step back, son. I’m just doing my job. Without proper medical attention, your mother’s going to be on her way out real soon. Like I said, no point in wasting the bandages and ointment on her.”

  Jacob turned red. Sensing danger, I kicked open the passenger door of the Humvee to join the party outside Camp Haven’s gates and put myself between Jacob and Ludo’s gun. “We brought our own first aid supplies. We won’t use any of your resources to tend to Penny. All she needs is a bed in your med bay.”

  Ludo studied me from head to toe, taking in everything from my violet-dyed hair to my camouflage snow jacket to my all-weather boots. “You ain’t one of them.”

  “Sorry?”

  He stepped on the toe of my boot. I didn’t wince. “You’re dressed sensibly and affordably. Got boots that’ll keep your toes warm during a long hike. Navigated a Humvee up the Rockies. You’re the sore thumb, aren’t you? So why didn’t you just make it up here on your own?”

  “This is my family. I couldn’t leave them behind.”

  He chewed on his tongue, reviewing the occupants of the Humvee once more. “I like you,” he said to me. “Fiery. Quick. Loyal. You’ll be a good asset to Camp Haven. We value loyalty.”

  I waited on his final decision, folding my arms across his chest.

  “Fine.” Ludo waved to the three men who guarded the gate. They slung their rifles across their backs and went to work pulling the gate open. “You can all come in, but we have conditions. Number one, like I said before, everyone works. As soon as you’re up to it, you’ll get assigned a position. Number two, you will consent to an obligatory medical screening at the med bay before advancing to any other part of the camp. We do this for our own protection. Can’t have outsiders bringing in bacteria or viruses into camp. Do you agree to participate?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, answering for the group.

  Ludo tapped the side of the Humvee to get Jove’s attention. “Pull through the gates and park on the left next to our vehicles. We’ll unload the truck for you, categorize your inventory, and add it to our own.”

  “Hold on a minute,” Jove said, the brake lights of the Humvee flashing red. “I brought these things here. They belong to me. You won’t go giving my clothes and shoes to people I don’t know.”

  “That’s the deal here,” Ludo replied. “We share everything. You want in, you agree to our conditions. Otherwise, I’m sure you can find your way back to Denver on your own.”

  “What’s stopping me from driving straight through your men and into your pretty camp however I want?” Jove challenged, revving the engine.

  Ludo patted his gun. “I highly suggest you do not attempt to do so, or I can assure you that will not survive this gorgeous morning.”

  “Enough pissing, Jove,” I said. “Do what the man asks of you so we can get your wife and daughter somewhere safe.”

  Jove glared at me but drove through the gates without further argument. Jacob and I followed Ludo on foot.

  “Change of guard will be here to relieve you soon, fellas,” Ludo announced to the other men who patrolled the fence. Then he leaned closer to one of them, and I tilted my head to catch the muttered conversation. “Keep an eye on the big man. He’s going to cause trouble.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The gate rattled shut behind us, and we were officially inside Camp Haven. The sight made my jaw drop. My father’s land, once just a cabin in the middle of nowhere, was now a square of organized civilization. Most of the trees had been cleared for simple block buildings, log cabins, and platform tents. In the distance, a water wheel turned over the part of the river that my father and I used to fish in. People bustled about, fulfilling early morning duties. Some mopped out the row of outhouses that bordered the far end of the camp. Others carried canvas sacks of potatoes and dried meat toward a long, low building with the laughable label Bistro painted in white over the doorway. Still others transported water, or lugged shovels and trowels, or shouldered compound bows as they headed toward the gate. The EMP blast had not so much as tickled the residents of Camp Haven. They went about their lives as if it were any other day.

  “Unbelievable, isn’t it?” Ludo said, noticing my open-mouthed stare. “Completely self-sustaining. It’s amazing what we’ve done in a short amount of time. Even got a sewage system. It ain’t pretty, but it works.”

  “But why?” I asked. Those who passed by observed us without shame. Camp Haven must not have seen newcomers in a while. “Why work so hard to build this place? It’s not like we’re living in the age of the Roman Empire.”

  “Aren’t we though?” Ludo replied. “Look what happened to the rest of the United States in just a few short hours, Miss F
itz. Most people go crazy if they can’t charge their phones or flip on a light switch. They rely too much on modern day accommodations. They don’t think about the future. It’s privilege, plain and simple, and privilege will get you killed. That’s why we built this place. To disconnect from the noise down there. We’re always safe here at Camp Haven, always prepared. Life might be simpler, but we’re alive and well, and that’s all that matters.”

  Jove put the Humvee into park and switched off the engine. It turned out that Camp Haven owned a few similar vehicles, but from the layer of dirt and grime on the hoods, it looked like the other trucks hadn’t been in operation for quite some time. However, a collection of man-powered surrey bikes, each built with a convenient platform for hauling goods, appeared well-worn.

  “Keys?” Ludo asked.

  Jove tossed them over with a grimace. “Don’t scratch my truck. It’s a collectible.”

  “That’s the least of your worries, Mason Senior.” Ludo stopped one of the men passing by. “Eirian, do me a favor, won’t you? Inventory our guests’ supplies.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  I caught the man’s—Eirian—eye as he brushed past me to get started on Ludo’s request. They were bright green, the color I imagined a dragon’s scales to be. He flashed me a grin, rolled up his sleeves, and got to work, the lines of his back moving fluidly as he unloaded baggage from the Humvee.

  Nita helped Pippa out of the truck, while Jacob did the same for Penny. His mother hung onto consciousness by a thread. Her pants were soaked through with blood. It dripped into the dirt as Jacob lifted Penny into his arms.