Small Town EMP (Book 3): Survive The Conflict

by Hamilton, Grace

  Small Town EMP

  Survive the Chaos

  Survive the Aftermath

  Survive the Conflict

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION,SEPTEMBER 2019

  Copyright © 2019 Relay Publishing Ltd.

  All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Grace Hamilton is a pen name created by Relay Publishing for co-authored Post-Apocalyptic projects. Relay Publishing works with incredible teams of writers and editors to collaboratively create the very best stories for our readers.

  Cover Design by LJ Mayhem Covers

  www.relaypub.com

  Blurb

  The world has descended into a nightmarish hell. Death and destruction reign at every turn. Everywhere Austin Merryman has led his tightknit group of survivors has gone from bad to worse as enemies pursue them for the intelligence he possesses. Yet, his group remains steadfastly together even as the infighting continues.

  It’s only when the cryptologist traveling with them finally breaks through the last coded barrier, exposing the full extent of the data on the mysterious USB drive, that their luck finally seems to be turning. So many have already given their lives to secure the information, and now they know why.

  Now, a small window of opportunity remains for stopping the New World Order from succeeding in their plans, but Austin and his cohorts will have to move fast. Once again, splitting up may be their only option, but at what cost? And can they really launch the countermeasures that could take down the NWO’s plan for domination?

  But when the enemy closes in and lives of his entire group are threatened, Austin will be forced to choose between his family and the ultimate survival of the entire world…

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  End of Survive the Conflict

  Thank You

  About Grace Hamilton

  Also by Grace Hamilton: Dark Retreat

  Want More?

  1

  Austin Merryman kept his guard up as he headed inside the small convenience store, Amanda Peterson right behind him. The place had been used to serve campers staying in the nearby RV park, and he knew it wasn’t likely they’d find any food, but they had to try. Months without any stores and surviving by the seat of his pants meant that just about anything he could loot from the store could be useful—anything they could carry off, anyway.

  Austin double-checked behind the store’s counter, but the place was empty. Most of the shelves were, too. Off to the side, he saw Amanda pick up some empty boxes from the shelves and then begin rummaging around in the counters beneath the old coffee station, looking for anything that could be useful. They’d learned a lot about improvising and repurposing regular everyday items, all to make living without electricity, running water, and even grocery stores possible.

  Leaving her to it, he ducked down to the lower shelves and began searching through the spaces that other scavengers were more likely to have missed. The place was empty enough that he figured that was about their only shot.

  “Transmission fluid and some oil,” Austin said, standing with the bottles of car fluids that had rolled under a shelving unit.

  “Good fuel,” she replied. From the look on her face, she hadn’t found anything to be excited about.

  With their limited loot in plastic bags, they walked back to the door, waiting and listening for any signs that there were other people around. Their scavenging mission was proving to be futile, like the one yesterday and the day before that. They’d hoped the small towns would provide something worthwhile, but destruction had become widespread. The towns had been abandoned for some time, but only after being thoroughly ransacked.

  “Clear,” Austin finally muttered, stepping outside with the Glock in his right hand, ready for whatever popped up.

  He would have killed for one of the ARs or M-4s they’d taken off the NWO back at the house, but their guns had been stolen right out of their hands days ago while they’d still been generally heading west toward a more temperate climate. Without any sure destination, that had been the fallback plan—to keep going and find somewhere they could hole up. They’d landed in an abandoned lodge that had seemed to have a lot of promise, but the nearby scavenging wasn’t offering much to live from. Those guns, though—he could still taste the anger over losing them. It was the way of the new world, though. A game of Yankee Swap. They kept their weapons, food, and gear only until someone came along and took it. Then, they in turn did the same thing to another group. It was a revolving door of easy come and easy go with weapons, especially. He was ready for the tide to turn back in their favor and allow them to stumble on more weaponry, but it hadn’t happened yet.

  Amanda pointed off to the side, away from where they’d come from. “Let’s head down that trail and see if we can find anything in the RVs. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  He nodded, his eyes scanning the area. “But where is everyone, seriously? Bed, kitchen, shelter, and porta-potties... why wouldn’t anyone make this their new home?” he pressed even as he followed her. Maybe this could work for their own needs.

  “I don’t know, but let’s hurry up and get moving. This place is kind of creepy,” she answered, her voice low. “Maybe that’s reason enough.”

  The RV park was basically a parking lot with designated spaces. Not many trees, not much natural beauty. Even in the middle of nowhere, it was the park owner’s way of packing in as many RVs as possible and taking advantage of the beauty of the area. Austin guessed they were in the lower west corner of Wyoming now, but he couldn’t be sure. And had they been tracked? It was hard to tell, but he suspected that they had—whether that suspicion was made up more of paranoia or intelligence, he couldn’t be sure.

  Austin thought back to the months prior to the EMP, when he’d been living in the fifth-wheel with Savannah, traveling the country. They’d stayed in various campgrounds and parks of nearly all sorts, but this specimen of resting spot was the kind he’d avoided at all costs. There was no real privacy, and in the tenuous situation they were in now, there was no real cover. He and Amanda couldn’t help being exposed as they walked along the narrow paved road that led into the park.

  Scanning the grounds, Austin noted that there were only a handful of RVs remaining, and even so, the place looked junky and c
ramped. The EMP would have hit right at the beginning of the RV season, but occupants had disappeared fast. He imagined it had been an older crowd—people who full-time RV’d after retirement. They wouldn’t have stood much of a chance against the soldiers or the hordes of people fleeing the cities.

  “Let’s start with the motorhome there,” he said, pointing to the newer Class A with a slide-out and big sun shields placed in its front window. “I’ll stand guard while you go in, and then we’ll trade off on the next.”

  “Got it,” Amanda replied, pulling open the flimsy door as Austin stepped to the side.

  Almost as soon as she disappeared, he thought he saw movement near the picnic table parked under a single, lonely tree. He swung his gun up to point in the general direction, but whatever had moved was gone.

  “Drop your weapon!”

  Austin glanced over his shoulder, finding a man in his sixties standing on the one-way road behind him—bearded and thin, and pointing a hunting rifle at him.

  “Sorry, mister. Apologies,” Austin said, trying to keep his voice calm as he lowered his gun. He didn’t drop it, but he pointed it at the ground as he faced the man. “I didn’t know there was anyone around. Is this your place?”

  The man smirked, closer now. “You already know who lives here. We’ve told you before: Stay out of our camp, and we’ll stay out of yours!”

  Austin shook his head, willing the man to believe him as he answered. “I’ve never met you before. I don’t know who you think I am, but this is the first time I’ve ever been here. I didn’t know it was occupied.”

  He’d made a point of using ‘I’ instead of ‘we,’ hoping Amanda would stay out of sight. If this was the man’s place, they could figure out how to get her out once this guy lowered his hunting rifle.

  The gun wavered, but remained aimed at him as the man scowled.

  “We want to be left alone,” he said after a minute had passed. “We’re not causing you any trouble. There’s plenty of hunting and water for us all to live here in peace. If you keep coming over here, we’ll be forced to kill every one of you,” he added, sounding almost saddened by the idea.

  “Okay,” Austin said. “I’m sorry. I’ll go,” he agreed, no longer wanting to argue about who he was or wasn’t. The man seemed decent, and he clearly wasn’t NWO. If he wasn’t going to shoot his rifle, then Austin had no intention of killing him over what amounted, more than likely, to nothing more than a scrapyard of RVs that was all this man and his group had left.

  “Your lady friend needs to go with you,” the man said, jerking his head towards the RV.

  Austin nodded, and he kept the surprise out of his voice when he called for her to come out.

  She emerged with her hands up, still carrying the bag of things they’d picked up at the convenience store. The old man aimed the rifle at her now, silently telling her to leave what she’d found.

  “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I didn’t realize anyone was still living here; I was just on the other side of the door. I didn’t take anything. This is stuff I’ve been carrying around for a while,” she told him. “Take a look and you’ll see it came in with me.”

  “Drop it. Now. Or I’ll drop it for you,” the man said, no sympathy in his voice.

  Austin widened his eyes at her, trying to tell her to let it go.

  Amanda put the bag on the step outside the motorhome as she stepped down. “Sorry. We looked around and didn’t see anybody. We didn’t realize you were living here.”

  “Well, we are!” a woman’s loud voice snapped from the other side of the park—near the RV by the tree where Austin had spotted movement earlier.

  “We’ll go. We’re sorry,” Amanda called out, her voice aimed toward the woman’s.

  “Go,” the man ordered them, using his head to gesture them out of the park.

  The man sidled out of their path to the road, and Austin slid his gun into his holster, not wanting to appear threatening in any way. It was nothing short of a miracle that they’d let him keep the gun, but he guessed this man didn’t want a fight any more than they did. Reaching the road, he reached for Amanda’s arm and kept his ears and eyes open as they headed away from the park, walking in silence until they passed the store and got headed back towards the two-lane highway they’d come in by.

  “That was close,” Amanda finally said.

  “Yes, it was. They don’t seem like bad people,” he added after a minute had passed. Now that there was no danger to be felt from the man’s rifle, sympathy was creeping in.

  “Who do you think they thought we were?” she asked.

  “Maybe part of the group that has the town we passed locked down, or people from that other campground we passed on the other side of the highway. There are clearly some very marked territories around here, and we stumbled right into the middle of them,” he said.

  She stopped in her tracks and he turned to face her, meeting her intelligent brown eyes with his—they were one of the few sights he’d enjoyed lately. “Why do you suppose none of them took over the hunting lodge?” she asked.

  “Luck?” he joked, but then he shook his head as she turned to keep walking and he fell into step beside her. “I don’t know. Maybe there was someone in there and they were run off by one of the other groups. Might not have been empty when they checked it out.”

  “So, do we keep looking or head back?”

  He sighed disgustedly. “We’re empty-handed.”

  “That tends to happen,” she replied with a small laugh.

  “You remember when needing milk or craving a candy bar meant running to the nearest store? I never realized how easy we had it before all this. I’ll never take overpriced convenience store food for granted again—assuming it ever returns,” he muttered.

  She gripped his shoulder in quick understanding. “Let’s head back. Maybe the others had better luck.”

  He nodded, knowing there was little else they could do. Hot and hungry, he felt more than ready to take off the boots that were making his feet feel like lead. They headed towards the lodge, the road making for a steady climb upwards. A trickling creek ran alongside it, almost nonexistent with the July heat drying everything out. Austin looked longingly at it as they walked, wishing he could dip his feet in for just a few minutes. Amanda drifted away from him, inspecting a car stopped dead in the middle of the left lane of the highway. He moved towards the creek instead, drawn to the crystal-clear water flowing downhill.

  And then the silence around them, filled with the gurgling sounds of the creek and the few birds braving the heat overhead, was interrupted by gunfire.

  The crack of a rifle, followed by what sounded like a semi-automatic and more rifle shots.

  Austin dropped and rolled toward the tree line not a second too soon; as he came up, he noticed where the tree bark had exploded just beyond the highway. His knee slammed into a rock as he backed behind a large boulder. This wasn’t anything new. They’d been chased out of towns and little makeshift settlements before.

  He waited until the shooting had stopped for several seconds before he popped his head up slightly, eyeing the area. “Amanda?” he whispered.

  “I’m good. Sounds like they cleared out.” Her soft voice had come from maybe twenty feet away, back behind the vehicle that hadn’t moved in several months.

  He got to his feet and looked up into the trees before motioning Amanda away from the car. She hurried his way, though there were no further gunshots—whoever had shot at them must have figured they’d gotten their message across.

  “They’re gone or they killed each other,” he muttered as Amanda reached him and they crossed the creek, stepping into the trees together.

  “This is getting old. We can’t stay here,” she said with a sigh. “We’ve risked our lives one too many times coming down here. It isn’t worth it.”

  “I know. I was hoping to find something, though—anything. And it’s not like we have a destination in mind at this point.”

 
; She dusted off her pants, taking in a deep breath. “Everything’s a risk at this point,” she reminded him.

  “We need food, supplies, everything,” he said, glancing back at the highway. What else were they supposed to do but scavenge?

  “Maybe the others will have had better luck on their raid to the outskirts of town,” she offered.

  “I hope so,” he replied as they started moving back up the mountain towards the hunting lodge they’d commandeered.

  “They’re going to figure out where we’re living,” Amanda said as they walked.

  “I know, but I wouldn’t call it living,” he retorted.

  “The lodge is perfect for us, Austin. It’s got eight rooms, two huge living rooms, the commercial kitchen, and the trees for cover…. I mean, really, it doesn’t get any better than that,” she said, her tone wistful.

  “We just need supplies,” he answered simply, and she didn’t argue.

  He wiped sweat from his brow, but didn’t suggest stopping. The hunting lodge was tucked into the trees a couple miles up the mountain. They’d moved to the lodge after heading west from the small cabin where they’d finally rested for a few days after leaving the prepper house. After the cabin and days spent in the woods, the lodge had seemed like paradise, and it had made sense to stop. The first week had been great, too, but as they’d begun to make scavenging runs into the small town and the outlying campgrounds, they’d realized there was some kind of a civil war brewing between the campgrounds.