Getting Home_A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller

by Ryan Westfield

  It’d been hammered so hard into Janet’s head that she hadn’t batted an eyelash at leaving the traitor Art there on the ground. And she also couldn’t understand this soldier’s actions. He was hesitating. It was strange. Weird. Unusual.

  Janet felt a surge of anger, as if she hadn’t fled the militia. As if she hadn’t deserted her unit. What was this soldier playing at? Didn’t he understand the rules?

  She snapped out of it, suddenly remembering which side she was actually on.

  Janet’s finger was on the trigger, pulling. Almost at the catch point.

  But then she recognized, in a split second, the other soldier.

  It was Bobby McAdams. Maybe the only kind person in the entire regiment. Somehow he’d managed to straddle the line between vicious killer and caring person. He was always helping out his fellow soldiers, often incurring the wrath of Sarge because of it. He was notorious for being genuinely kind and helpful.

  She couldn’t kill McAdams, could she?

  Not only that, but she shouldn’t do it.

  It was wrong.

  Then again, the whole militia was wrong.

  McAdams turned, the moonlight on his face. She saw his features clearly, the boyish charm that he carried, the baby fat that he never seemed to lose no matter how little he’d eaten. It was the first time she’d seen him without that lopsided grin he always seemed to carry with him as if it was his lucky charm.

  He wasn’t trying to kill her. He wasn’t shooting at her.

  But he wouldn’t let her go. He had his orders. And he’d never let anyone go before. Sure, he’d help his fellow soldiers. But now Janet was no longer a soldier.

  If she revealed herself, he’d shoot her.

  So she had no choice.

  She could spin it any way she wanted to herself.

  Actions were more important than thoughts.

  Janet squeezed the trigger. The gun recoiled.

  It was a good shot. Right in the forehead. His body remained upright for a few moments before he fell face-forward onto the yard, making a dull thud.

  Janet’s ears rang from the gunshots.

  She got up quickly and out from behind the bush. Her clothes and skin were torn up from the branches.

  Sloane was still alive, lying on his back. Blood gurgled out of his mouth. His eyes moved, following Janet. His expression was strange. He looked emotionally hurt, as if she’d done something to hurt his feelings.

  “Sorry, Bobby,” muttered Janet, looking down at Bobby’s body.

  The gunshots would be heard by the next pair of soldiers. They’d be coming for her soon.

  Sloane tried to speak, but nothing but unintelligible gurgling noises came out.

  Janet had no words for Sloane. She grabbed his shotgun. The handle was slick with blood.

  Janet took off running, checking over her shoulder for the next pair of soldiers that she knew would come. Because they always came.

  5

  Dan

  Dan wasn’t as ready as he’d thought he’d been.

  The door burst open suddenly. The next thing Dan knew, before he could act, the muzzle of a gun was pointed in his face. He could see up into the darkness of the barrel, a tunnel that lead to nothing but death.

  “Drop the knife,” said a deep male voice.

  Dan didn’t have a choice. One false move and he’d be dead. He hadn’t even seen the man’s face, but he knew from the voice that he meant what he said.

  Dan dropped the knife, letting his fingers relax and the knife clatter to the kitchen floor.

  The woman let out a moan of concern.

  “Neither of you move,” said the man. With his foot, he kicked the door closed behind him.

  The three of them were alone in the kitchen. A slight breeze blew in through the broken window.

  “What are you doing here?” said the man. “Who are you with?”

  Dan’s mind was racing. His heart was pounding.

  He’d survived so far by using his brain, avoiding danger. And also by fighting his way out. He’d stabbed how many men? Two. He couldn’t quite remember. It was a blur. Probably some kind of protective measure his own mind was taking, not allowing himself to fully be cognizant of the violence he himself had committed.

  Of course, he didn’t regret it one bit. He’d done what he had to do.

  Dan’s gut feeling was that violence wasn’t going to help him here. Not now. After all, what could he do?

  What’s more, his gut was telling him that this man was reasonable. And that was in spite of the gun in his face.

  Dan decided his best course of action was cooperation.

  “I’m trying to help my friend here,” said Dan. “She’s injured.”

  “I can see that. What happened to her?”

  Dan paused, not knowing if he should be truthful about the soldiers.

  But as he looked beyond the gun’s muzzle, he saw the man’s face coming into focus for the first time.

  He was in his forties. He had dark, sunken eyes, but there was something about them that seemed… Dan wasn’t sure what. Hopeful, maybe?

  His beard and hair were long and dirty. His clothes were torn and filthy. He wore what looked like a backpack, similar to the one Dan had carried until he’d run into the soldiers.

  This man didn’t look like a soldier. He looked like a regular guy trying to survive the chaos of the EMP’s aftermath.

  At least that’s what Dan hoped.

  And of course that didn’t make him honest or safe.

  Dan took a deep breath. Then he spoke. And if he was going to tell the story, he figured he might as well go all in. His only choice was to trust. “We were kidnapped. I didn’t know her before.”

  “Who kidnapped you?” interjected the man.

  “Some soldiers. I don’t know who they were. They killed my friend. They had…”

  “Military trucks and gear?”

  “Yeah,” said Dan. “How did you know?”

  “They’ve been the scourge of this area for the last month.”

  “Who are they?”

  “That’s a complicated question.”

  The man seemed willing to have a conversation, to discuss things. That was a good sign.

  “Are you going to kill us?” said Dan.

  As Dan waited for an answer, he was painfully aware of his pounding heart. He held his breath.

  “No,” said the man. “Unless you try something.”

  “What do you want?”

  The man lowered his gun, and offered Dan a hand, helping him stand up.

  “I’m doing what everyone’s doing. Looking for food. Gear.”

  “Scavenging?”

  “Yeah. I have to be careful. I’ve come across some bad people. Sounds like you have, too.”

  “Your name isn’t Max, by any chance?” said Dan, wondering if it was at all possible that this man was the same one that he’d spoken to on the radio.

  But the man shook his head. “Nope. Call me Rob.”

  “I’m Dan, and this…”

  He suddenly realized he didn’t know the woman’s name. And what was more, she was in need of medical attention.

  “I don’t know her name. But she needs help. I need to get the bullet out of her.”

  Rob crouched down in front of the woman and began examining her. He took a careful look at her bullet wound.

  “Hmm,” he said. “It doesn’t look too bad. It didn’t hit anything important. I think I can get it out.”

  “Are you a doctor?” said Dan.

  Rob laughed. “Not even close. But I’ve had the unfortunate displeasure of doing a few of these.”

  The way Rob spoke sounded almost eloquent, completely belying his rough and dirty appearance. Dan wondered what he’d done before the EMP, but this wasn’t the time to ask.

  “Can you speak?” said Rob, addressing the woman.

  She looked up at Rob, opening her eyes fully for the first time since they’d gotten into the house.

&
nbsp; “I think so,” she croaked.

  “What hurts?”

  “My ankle.”

  “Can you walk?”

  She shook her head.

  “She could barely make it in here,” said Dan.

  “And the soldiers? You said you escaped. Do they know you’re here?”

  “I don’t think so. They kept driving.”

  “That’s good. But we don’t have much time.”

  “We don’t? I thought we’d have to stay here for a while and hide out.”

  Rob shook his head as he removed his backpack, opened it up, and began digging through it. Dan saw that his fingers and hands were filthy, as if he’d been digging in the dirt.

  “We don’t want to stay here long,” said Rob. “When I hit houses like this, I’m always quick. I’ve had too many run-ins already. I know better now.”

  “Is it the soldiers?”

  “Nope. Just regular people. They’re the most dangerous sometimes. You got lucky with me, kid. If someone else had showed up, well, let’s just say it wouldn’t have gone so well.”

  Rob had emptied half of his backpack onto the kitchen floor. There were plastic grocery bags filled with things. The pack stank like partially-rancid food.

  Finally Rob found what he was looking for. A small Dopp kit made of a synthetic black material.

  Next, he fished out a large bottle of vodka from his pack. He unscrewed the flimsy lid, and for a moment Dan thought that Rob wasn’t who he’d seemed to be. He wanted to take a drink now?

  But Rob just splashed the vodka on his hands and rubbed them together vigorously. He got most of the dirt off and then splashed a little more.

  “Nice and clean,” he muttered to himself as he unzipped the bag. The contents, unlike those of the backpack, were neatly organized. It was some kind of field medical kit, with nice-looking metal instruments that gleamed when the light hit them.

  From his pocket, Rob shook out a couple pills into his palm.

  “Now you’re going to want to take these,” he said to the woman. “They’re time release, so you’d better chew them.”

  He fed them gently into the woman’s mouth.

  She chewed them slowly, a look of pain on her face.

  Dan watched as Rob splashed vodka onto a clean-looking rag and wiped down a pair of steel forceps.

  “Now this is the really unpleasant part,” he said. “It’s Dan, right?”

  Dan nodded.

  “Now, Dan, I’m going to need you to cut away the rest of this young woman’s sleeve there. You’ll find a pair of scissors in the medical kit.”

  Dan took the scissors and found that his hands were trembling. But he managed to cut the woman’s sleeve entirely off, revealing her bare arm over which the blood was running.

  “We’ll deal with the bleeding after I get the bullet out. Now if you could be so kind as to wipe away some of this blood, I can better see what I’m doing.”

  Dan followed Rob’s instructions and wiped down the area.

  “Now you’re going to have to trust me,” said Rob, speaking to the woman in a soothing voice. “This is going to hurt, and I’m not a doctor. But I’ve done this before. And unfortunately in these present conditions this is probably the best medical attention you’re going to receive.” He turned to Dan. “Why don’t you get her something to bite down on in case those pills haven’t kicked in yet.”

  Dan found an old wooden spoon in one of the cabinets and placed it in the woman’s mouth. Her eyes, now with constricted pupils, drifted sleepily over to Dan’s face as she bit gently down onto the spoon’s handle.

  Dan gave her a look that tried to convey what he was feeling, that they had no better option than to trust Rob even though they’d just met him.

  “This is going to hurt like hell,” said Rob.

  Dan watched as Rob used the sterilized forceps to dig into the woman’s wound.

  Dan held his breath. It seemed to go on forever.

  Rob remained completely silent.

  It was hurting the woman. When Dan glanced at her face, the pain was plastered all over it. The agony seemed to be growing on it. She was biting down forcibly on the wooden spoon. Dan worried it might break.

  It had only been a minute, maybe two, when Dan heard a sound from the other side of the house.

  Rob glanced at him, his eyes wide with surprise.

  “Shit, they’re here.”

  “Who?”

  “Other scroungers.”

  “What do we do?”

  “I might only have one chance at this. You’ve got to get this one, kid. There’s a handgun in my pack. In the bottom.”

  Dan didn’t bother questioning it. He knew he needed to act. It was all up to him.

  Dan dug frantically in the backpack, tossing aside more plastic bags and gear until he came to a handgun.

  “It’s loaded. You know how to use it?”

  “I know the theory.”

  “That’ll have to be good enough. Don’t hesitate to use it. And remember, shoot at the torso. It’s the easiest target.”

  “What if they’re someone who’s not a threat? How will I know?”

  “I’ve been hitting houses in this area for weeks now, kid, and I haven’t met anyone except you two who are not a threat. Like I said, you got lucky with me. Real lucky.”

  Dan stood up, gun in hand, took one last look at Rob, who had his forceps deep in the woman’s arm.

  There was another crash at the front of the house. It sounded like someone was breaking down the front door, crashing through the wood.

  Rob was concentrating so much on trying to get the slug that he didn’t even look up.

  It was all up to Dan.

  He could do it. He’d been through so much already. What was one more encounter? One more danger?

  6

  Mandy

  “I don’t know if we should do this, Max,” said Mandy.

  “What choice do we have? We’re going to need food. We simply can’t make it back without anything.”

  “But there will be something else. Somewhere else to get food.”

  “We don’t know that,” said Max.

  “But we don’t know there will be any food in here ether,” said Mandy.

  “Exactly,” said Max. “To maximize our chances of finding food, we’re going to have to hit every place we see. It’s just simple statistics.”

  They were standing outside the highway rest stop. It was a large one, as they go. Probably run by the state and populated by small chain restaurants. From the looks of it, there was also a convenience store inside, the kind that you might find attached to a gas station.

  There were no cars in the parking spots, or by the dozen or so gas pumps. No cars trailed down the highway. There was no one in sight, and the breeze blew against Mandy’s face and hair, taking individual strands and pushing them around in a chaotic way.

  “There’s no sign of anyone inside,” said Max. He had his face pressed up against the glass of the door to see into the darkened interior.

  “That doesn’t mean anything, and you know it. Plus, can you really see anything in there anyway?”

  “There are some skylights,” said Max. “It’s not that badly lit.”

  Mandy didn’t know why, but she had a horrible feeling in her gut about this, about going inside. Maybe it was her body trying to tell her something, or maybe it was just regular nervousness.

  Max was pulling his Glock from its holster, getting ready to go through the doors.

  It must just be regular nerves. Mandy needed to calm down. There wasn’t any reason this situation would be any more dangerous than any of the countless others they’d been through. And it wasn’t like there was any reason that her gut feeling would be real. There wasn’t any reason to pay attention to it. She needed to be logical about this.

  “OK,” said Mandy. “I’m ready.”

  She already had her handgun in hand. Her rifle was slung over her shoulder. She reached down and felt t
he handle of her knife, just for reassurance, and to make sure that it was within reach if she needed it, rather than tangled up in her shirt or belt.

  “We’ve got to keep quiet when we’re in there,” said Max.

  “Got it,” said Mandy. “All right, enough waiting around. Let’s do this.”

  Max went first. The door was unlocked and opened silently. Mandy followed through the vestibule and the next set of doors.

  Max paused there, probably waiting for their eyes to adjust to the dimmer light.

  He was right, there were skylights, but they didn’t seem to let in as much light as they should, and without artificial lighting, the interior of the rest stop was quite dark compared to being outside.

  They stood there for a couple long minutes. Mandy heard nothing except the pounding of her own heart. Neither one of them moved except to turn their heads to scan their surroundings.

  They’d entered through a side entrance, near the restrooms. From where they stood, they could see the main seating area. All the tables and chairs were exactly where they should be, upright rather than tipped over.

  There wasn’t anything, really, that looked out of place or unusual. The storefronts of the chain restaurants had been shut with their metal grates. It was as if the employees had simply locked up like on any normal day and gone home.

  That was a good sign. Maybe there was some food still left there, provided she and Max could get into the fast food restaurants.

  Of course, most of the food would be rotten. But there’d have to be something that wasn’t perishable, that would have lasted these long weeks and months since the EMP.

  If Mandy had come here after closing time before the EMP, everything would have looked mostly the same. The only difference she could sense was the overwhelming stench of rotten food. Probably coming from the trash cans that hadn’t been taken outside.

  Mandy glanced at Max, but she didn’t dare speak. And neither did he.

  Mandy’s own eyes were now getting more adjusted to the semi-darkness. She could see as well as she could outside.

  Max held up his hand, signaling that they were going to move out. He pointed to indicate the direction, then moved his hand in a way that indicated that he wanted Mandy to follow at a short distance.