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

by Alexandria Clarke

  “They’ve done it before,” Eirian said. “If someone’s a danger or a detriment to the camp, they can’t be allowed to live here. It’s as simple as that.”

  “Yeah, but there was no EMP blast before,” I argued. “Whoever got kicked out could run back to the city or find another homestead if they really wanted to. Jove doesn’t have that option.”

  “He probably should have thought about that before he went and landed himself three demerits.” He picked up the solar cell that I’d been working on to examine it. “This is going to be a mess. Tribunal meetings are crazy. They get the whole camp riled up.”

  “Why?”

  “Why did people use to attend hangings in the town squares as if they were parties back in the old days?” he said. “It’s entertainment, which, in Camp Haven, is pretty thin on the ground. People pick sides, gamble under the table, pick fights. It’s nuts. We don’t need that right now. We should be focused on gathering extra supplies to get us through the darker months and fortifying the camp against attacks.”

  “Attacks?” I repeated. “Who’s attacking us?”

  “No one yet,” Eirian said. “But I overheard Ludo and the other security officers talking last night. Apparently, another survival camp has gone up a few miles south of here. They’re not like us—they’re terribly prepared and totally clueless—which means one thing. They’re going to take what they can’t find or make for themselves, and Camp Haven is the closest target.”

  He was worried about it. I could see that in the way his dark brow knitted together, casting a scrunched shadow on the rest of his face as he fiddled with the solar panel with the exact same amount of focus that I’d employed before. I wasn’t the only person trying to get stuff off my mind. Eirian needed the Communications office as meditation space just as much as I did.

  “Do they know we’re here?” I asked him.

  “Not yet, I don’t think,” he said. “But they’ll figure it out eventually. Ludo’s already on top of it. He’s sending scouts to check it out tonight. I might volunteer to go, see if it’s worth the fuss that security is making.”

  “Is that safe?” I confiscated the solar panel from him as he started bending it experimentally. “You just said yourself that the people there might be dangerous.”

  “From what I gathered, it’s a stealth mission,” Eirian explained. “We won’t be making contact. We just want to see what kind of setup they have going on. But if there’s a tribunal, we might not have time for that kind of thing.” He dropped his head into his hands. “Ugh, this is going to be a total disaster.”

  Instinctively, I rubbed his back through the thick fabric of his sweater. “How bad can it be? Look on the bright side. The other camp doesn’t know we’re here yet. That means we can buy some time. I’m sure Ludo is already working on a plan to beef up the security around Camp Haven. Don’t worry.”

  For a minute or so, we sat like that, flames flickering in the lamps as I massaged the tension out of Eirian’s shoulders and neck. Eventually, he ducked out from under my touch.

  “You okay?” I asked as he slid off the desk, increasing the distance between us, and fiddled with the bag he’d brought with him.

  “Yeah, I think I just figured you out.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He pulled a steel water canteen from his bag and handed it to me. “You’re the type of person that worries about everybody else so that you don’t have to worry about yourself.”

  I refused the canteen. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “It’s not a bad thing.” He pried open my fingers and placed the canteen in my palm. “On one hand, it shows that you’re selfless and you care deeply about the people around you. On the other hand, it means that you’re avoiding your own problems by focusing on everyone else’s.”

  “Tell me, on which homestead did you take Psychology 101?” I asked him, finally taking a sip from the canteen. “Was it here at Camp Haven?”

  He gave a wry smile. “When you live as simply as we do, there are less distractions. It makes observing other people that much more interesting. You can learn a lot just by watching and listening.”

  “So you’re a stalker.”

  “I pay attention,” he rectified. “Like with Ludo earlier.”

  “When you were eavesdropping on a private conversation?”

  “Listening,” he corrected. “And you’re deflecting. I get it, but let me tell you something. As noble as it is to put everyone else before yourself, it’s no good if you’re neglecting your own care. Self-care isn’t selfish, Georgie. I get the feeling someone taught you differently when you were growing up.”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but Eirian stopped me.

  “You don’t have to explain,” he said. “I just wanted you to know that it’s okay to need a break from taking care of everyone else. You’re allowed to focus on you every once in a while. Should we get to work?”

  As simple as that, he changed the subject, turning away from me to focus his attention on the solar panel and the rough models of walkie talkies that I’d made. I watched as he studied my handwritten notes on what I could remember about wiring electronics, his nose wrinkling in concentration.

  “It was my dad.”

  “Hmm?”

  “My dad was the one who taught me that self-care was selfish,” I clarified, glad that Eirian kept his eyes on his work rather than turning to face me. “Not directly. I’m sure he didn’t mean it. After my mom died, he was a complete mess. He was paranoid about everything, and it caused him to have crazy mood swings. The entire world scared him. That’s why we came out here.”

  Eirian continued playing with the solar cells and spare bits of wiring, but the pair of pliers that he’d picked up weren’t moving between his fingers. He was listening to me speak but respecting the fact that I wasn’t used to sharing this information with other people.

  “It was just the two of us,” I went on. “I was the only one who could take care of him, so that’s what I did. He thought it was the other way around. I guess we took care of each other. He kept me alive, and I kept him sane. Or at least I did my best to keep him sane. Not sure that worked out so well.”

  “It sounds stressful,” Eirian said. “Looking after your father at such a young age.”

  “It was,” I agreed. “Ultimately, that’s why I left. Those mood swings were bleeding into me. I’d get angry at the smallest inconvenience or cry if someone went wrong. If a tree branch tapped on the window, I had a moment when I was convinced he was right, that someone had finally come to kill us.”

  “God, I’m sorry.” Eirian finally turned around to face me, and I wiped a few stray tears from my cheeks so that he wouldn’t see them.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “That’s why I got out. That’s why I left him here and went into the city. It scared the shit out of me to be around that many people at first, but I did it.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” he said, “why is it that important for you to find your father if he treated you so poorly in the past?”

  “Because I know my dad,” I said, wiping my nose on the sleeve of my shirt. “And he’s probably terrified.”

  5

  I lay in bed in the cottage before dinner, savoring the rare moment of alone time. Jacob was still at work and Jove was off somewhere else, no doubt causing more trouble for the camp. The sun had set already. Leftover light glinted off a fresh snow flurry as it settled on the ground. As always, I studied the view from the window. The Rockies stared back, looming over Camp Haven. Some saw their towering grace as protection. The mountains shielded us from the horrors below in the city. Sometimes, I felt the same, cocooned between the walls of rock and snow. Other times, the mountains were dark and daunting, daring me to leave Camp Haven to trek through their obstinate passes. My father’s voice woke me in the middle of the night, calling to me, pleading for me to come find him. It was a haunting lullaby that I wished I could forget.<
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  Jacob burst in, ruining my attempt at a nap. As usual, he was sweating through the layers of sweaters and jackets that he wore, having just come off a shift with the Miscellaneous crew.

  “I hate this place,” he groaned, shedding his outermost coat, which was covered with oil smears. “Do you know what we had to do today?”

  “Something terrible, no doubt,” I replied.

  “We had to turn animal fat into lamp oil.” He fell onto the bed opposite mine, and the metal frame creaked with his weight. “Hours of chopping up fat. I never want to see another deer in my life.”

  I turned over, away from Jacob, and pressed a pillow over my ears. “That’s how things are done here.”

  “I know,” he snapped. “You don’t have to remind me.”

  “Then stop bitching about it.”

  “What’s your problem?”

  I pulled the blanket over my head. “Five minutes, Jacob. I wanted five minutes of peace and quiet before the dinner bell rang, and here you are.”

  “I live here too, you know.”

  “Then live here quietly.”

  The mattress groaned as he rolled over with a scoff. His frustration radiated off of him like a heat wave, spreading across the small room to fill me with annoyance. This was what it had come to. Jacob’s mere presence irked me. Sharing a room with him and Jove painted a target on my back. Most of the compound respected me, but they had reservations about my relationship with the Masons, especially since they all still thought that Jacob and I were engaged.

  Just as my eyes started to drift shut again, a roar of noise echoed into the cottage from outside. The thwack of a fist meeting a face tore me out of bed. I ignored the boots and stormed outside. Jacob followed, a little slower on the uptake, and we found Jove going head to head with one of the other sanitation workers. The two men were locked together in a vicious fistfight. The other guy, a younger man in his thirties, proved to have the upper hand. He gripped Jove around the neck with one arm and used the other to punch Jacob’s father repeatedly in the face. A crowd had gathered around them, but it was mostly women and children who didn’t want to intervene.

  “Stop, stop, stop!” I ordered, pushing through the circle of spectators and catching hold of the other man’s arm before he could land yet another punch to Jove’s demolished nose. “You’re going to kill him!”

  The man’s temper faded as soon as I interrupted his barrage of attacks. He dropped Jove in the dirt and tried to step away, but Jacob took him up by the coat collar. The other man, who was taller than Jacob, automatically lashed out. Jacob ducked, tackled the man around the midriff, and they both sprawled to the ground.

  “Jacob, don’t!” I said, unable to break up the new fight while Jove lay unconscious on the ground. His nose was beyond help, and his airways were filling up with blood. “We need to get Jove to the med bay. He can’t breathe.”

  Within minutes, someone produced the sheet off their bed, which we rolled Jove into. Jacob released Jove’s opponent to help carry his father across the compound to the med bay. To my surprise, the man Jove had been fighting helped too. One of his eyes bore a hefty bruise.

  “What’s your name?” I asked him.

  “Mitchell.”

  “He hit you first, didn’t he?” I said. Jacob’s shoulders rose toward his ears. He was listening in.

  “Yup,” Mitchell said. “I’m sorry about all of this. I totally lost it. This guy’s been a pain in my ass ever since he got assigned to Sanitation. Won’t do the work. Thinks he’s all high and mighty. He slows the rest of us down. A few nights ago, I missed dinner because I had to fix this jerk’s mistake. I had enough. I said something nasty to him, and he snapped. That’s when the first hit landed.”

  “I’ve been on the other end of Jove’s comments,” I assured Mitchell. “I can understand wanting to punch the guy.”

  “That’s my father you’re talking about,” Jacob said over his shoulder as we continued lugging Jove toward the med bay. He stirred in the sheet, mumbling incoherently. Blood gurgled at the corner of his lips.

  “It’s no secret that your father’s an ass,” I reminded him. “Do you remember what he said when we told him that we were engaged?”

  “No.”

  “He looked at me from head to toe and then turned to you and asked you if you’d found me on the discount rack,” I said, gritting my teeth at the memory. “I’ll never forget that.”

  “Wow,” Mitchell said as we approached the med bay.

  Jacob declined to comment and kicked open the door of the bay. As we maneuvered Jove inside and rested him gently on one of the cots, Pippa looked on in a mixture of horror and astonishment.

  “What did he do this time?” she asked.

  “Punched me in the face,” Mitchell answered, pointing to his black eye.

  “Damn it, is anyone here?” Jacob jogged to the end of the med bay and pounded on the door of Jax’s office. “Hello! We need help!”

  Nita emerged from one of the exam rooms, textbook in hand. “Jacob. Hey, what’s going on? Holy shit, what happened to Jove?”

  He took her by the arm and led her to Jove’s bedside. “Please, I don’t think he can breathe. You have to do something.”

  Nita jumped into action, tipping Jove’s head back to assess the damage. She produced a strange instrument from a nearby drawer and bent over Jacob’s father. “Of course this happens as soon as Jax takes a break. Christ.”

  Jacob and Nita crowded Jove, so I stepped away to give them space. Mitchell ran his fingers through his long dusty hair, pacing from cot to cot. When his repetitions made me dizzy, I caught him by the shoulder and sat him down.

  “What if he dies?” he asked me. “What if I punched him so hard that he dies? They’re going to kick me out of the camp! I don’t want to leave. This is my home.”

  “He’s not going to die,” I assured him. “He’s got a broken nose, and at worse, a concussion. Once Nita clears his airways and resets his nose, he’ll be fine.”

  “That doesn’t mean I won’t get a demerit for this,” Mitchell said. “Oh, man, is this bad enough to call a tribunal for?”

  I offered Mitchell my water canteen. “I have news for you. Jove is already waiting on a meeting with the tribunal. He’s in deep shit for all the trouble he’s caused in the past few weeks. I highly doubt they’ll even bother with you.”

  Mitchell relaxed as he sipped from the canteen. “A tribunal’s already been called? Wow, we haven’t had one in years.”

  “Dad’s in trouble?” Pippa chimed in from the next bed over. “What’s going to happen to him?”

  “We don’t know yet,” I told her. “Don’t worry about it right now.”

  Nita and Jacob continued working on Jove. Nita had managed to clear the blood from his throat. He was breathing on his own again. As he slowly regained consciousness, the pain became harder for him to ignore. He let out a noise somewhere between a moan and a yell.

  “Jove,” Nita said, steadying the big man’s shoulders against the hospital bed. “Your nose is pretty badly broken. I’m going to have to reset it, and it’s going to hurt like hell.”

  “Painkillers,” Jove begged, his voice garbled. His fingers twisted in the bed sheets. “Please, Nita.”

  “I can’t give you anything,” she told him as he whimpered. “We have a limited supply of painkillers, and I’m on strict orders not to give them out unless completely necessary. Get ready, Jove. Here we go.”

  Jacob held Jove against the mattress as Nita took Jove’s nose between her hands. With a disgusting crunch, she moved the bone back into place. Jove howled in pain, bucking against Jacob’s hold.

  “That’s it!” Nita said. “You’re done. All I have to do now is tape it up. All you have to do is take care of it and not cause any more trouble. Do you think you can manage that?”

  “Doubtful,” I muttered, but Jove nodded.

  Nita left Jove’s bedside to fetch the things she needed to splint his nose, but she p
aused before passing me. “Listen, Georgie. I’m obligated to record everything that happens in the med bay so that we can inventory supplies. That means I have to report this to Jax.”

  “Go ahead,” I told her.

  She looked over at Jacob and Jove. “It’s not looking good for Jove, and I’m not talking about his face. The whole camp hates him.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “I’ve already heard rumors that they’re going to kick him out,” she said, keeping her voice low.

  “I’m not sure those are just rumors anymore,” I told her.

  “Aren’t you worried?” she asked. “About what this could do to Penny, Pippa, and Jacob?”

  My stomach rolled over, either out of hunger or increasing vexation. “I told Jacob. I told him over and over that Jove needed to toe the line. It’s all we’ve been arguing about for the past few weeks. I did what I could. The rest is up to Jove and the tribunal.”

  I stormed out of the med bay, leaving Nita to patch up Jove with the company of Jacob and Mitchell. The fight had made us miss the dinner bell. The Bistro teemed with campers enjoying a hot stew and fresh bread rolls. The delicious scent of marinated meat and broth tickled my nose, but as much as I wanted a hot meal, the last thing I wanted was to be around that many people. I settled for lurking around the Bistro’s back door, the one that led to the kitchen, and hoping that someone would magically emerge with a bowl of stew to offer. The chances were thin. No one ate out here in the snow and the cold. Except Eirian apparently.

  He shouldered the door open, still wrapped up in his big coat and scarf. The fluffy neck piece was bright purple, which brought out the pretty pale tones of his skin.

  “That’s a good color on you,” I said.

  He started, surprised to see me loitering in the bushes, but regained his composure in a flash. “I’ll have you know that purple is the color of royalty among other things.”

  “I wasn’t kidding,” I said, bumping his shoulder. “It brings out your eyes.”