Small Town EMP (Book 3): Survive The Conflict

by Hamilton, Grace

  She grimaced, calculating the time it would take to get there and adding it to the time they had spent already; she hadn’t expected it to be quite so far, and realized she was really cutting it close. They had something like a three-day cushion, but they were eating that up quickly. “We’ve got to go today, then.”

  “Be careful,” he warned her.

  “We will,” she replied, already walking down the hall.

  The others were outside sitting on the lawn, all of them exhausted after having worked through much of the night, boiling water and doing what they could to sterilize the house along with a few of the other houses where the recovered would be returning to live once they could leave the hospital.

  “What’s going on?” Gretchen asked.

  “We’ve got a new mission,” she said, her tone grim.

  “What is it?” Jordan asked.

  “We’ve got to get him those antibiotics. These people won’t make it without it,” she said. “And, honestly, it will be good for us to. We’ll get a round of antibiotics just in case we were exposed while searching this area or traveling, and hopefully have some medical supplies to carry us on our way.”

  They all looked at each other before looking back at her. “Where?”

  “It’s about five miles north,” she said, grimacing as she saw the looks of dread on their faces.

  “Amanda,” Jordan protested.

  “I know, I know, but we’ve invested this much time into helping them out. We can do this. Plus, remember we might need those antibiotics, as well,” she pointed out more quietly.

  Jordan got to his feet and patted Amanda’s shoulder as if to reassure her that he was on board. “Then we should go now. In our current condition, it’ll take us most of the day to get there and back. Do we know if they’re friendly? Is this going to be a battle?”

  “Robin doesn’t think we’ll have any problems. We’ll evaluate when we get there. He gave me a note with his signature to pass along to the guard at the hospital. It should be enough to get us what we need,” she said. “From the sounds of things, the people running the hospital have been pretty fair and rational; it’s just a question of whether or not they’ve still got enough medicine to go around.”

  “Let’s move then. We ain’t got all day,” Drew said, getting to his feet, as well.

  The rest of them followed suit, quietly discussing the town’s situation. Smart or not, they all knew they were doing the right thing, and that meant something to them.

  But they’d barely gone two miles before they encountered their first hostile. “Get down!” Ezra shouted when the crack of a rifle reverberated through the area.

  Amanda was already on the ground, rolling into the wet grass and weeds, still damp from the brief thunderstorm that had rolled through the area overnight. Tonya’s feet were in her face as she rolled. She was breathing fast, weeds and tiny bits of grass sticking to her face.

  “Where is it coming from?” Amanda hissed.

  “Up ahead. I think they’re behind that big truck,” Ezra whispered from his position about ten feet in front of her.

  “I’m coming up there. Can you get a visual?” she asked.

  “No,” he said.

  Amanda used her elbows to drag herself across the bumpy ground, angling her body to get a better view under the truck. She stared at the pavement, waiting to see a shadow. Ezra handed her the rifle. Everyone knew she was the better shot.

  She took the weapon and rested the butt against her shoulder as she looked for signs of life behind the truck. None of them moved, all of them waiting.

  “There,” Ezra hissed from beside her.

  She saw it, too. She would have preferred a head shot, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. She took the shot, hitting her target just below the knee. At the scream, she winced, knowing it had to be an excruciating injury. The man’s rifle hit the pavement a second before he did, writhing and screaming in pain. Amanda took another shot and put the man out of his misery.

  “Don’t move, not yet,” she ordered.

  They waited to see if there was another shooter waiting in the wings. Ezra pulled off the hat he’d made from the kids’ clothes. He tossed it into the air. When it wasn’t shot at, Amanda sighed with relief, giving the rifle back to Ezra to carry. She pulled the handgun from her waistband and got to her feet.

  “Can we get up?” Gretchen asked from behind her.

  “I think it’s safe,” Amanda said, though there was some measure of doubt in her voice. She’d thought it had been safe before they’d been fired on.

  “I thought this was supposed to be an easy mission,” Drew grumbled.

  Amanda scoffed. “So did I. We’ll just be a little more cautious.”

  It was only another mile before they ran into more trouble. This time, they were ready, and managed to avoid the confrontation by quietly taking a wide berth around the area where a group of men seemingly guarded the road.

  They could hear gunfire in the distance now, and Amanda pulled everyone behind a bus. “This is some rough territory. Before we go any further, are you all on board with this?” she asked.

  “Do we have a choice?” Drew mumbled. “We might already be sick. We need those meds as much as those other people do.”

  “We do have a choice,” Amanda said.

  “I say we go. We’ll avoid that part of the city,” Jordan replied.

  “Where’s the hospital?” Drew asked.

  Amanda grimaced. “It’s on the north side of town.”

  He groaned. “Where all the gunfire is coming from.”

  “Yes,” Amanda confirmed.

  She waited, giving them a few minutes to come to their own decisions. She was set on going in, and she couldn’t do it alone with any hope of success, but she wouldn’t pressure them to go with her.

  “We go. We aren’t giving up that easy,” Drew muttered.

  “Then let’s go,” she said, and started moving again. She hated being so exposed, though. There weren’t any trees or any cover in general beyond the scattered sagebrush and defunct vehicles. Still, they kept moving, all of them looking left and right, ready to shoot anything that moved.

  There seemed to be a lull the closer they got to the town—which had had a population of forty-two thousand, according to the sign they passed on the way in. It would have once been a pretty place to live, Amanda reasoned. There were lots of trees and a large park with a huge playground. And the big blue H alongside the four-lane road through the heart of the city told her they were on the right path.

  “Good evening,” she said, smiling to a group of adults sitting outside a barber shop.

  There were some grunts in response. It felt very normal—something she would have expected to see before the EMP.

  “Doesn’t seem so bad now that we’re here,” Drew grumbled.

  “Just keep your heads up,” Amanda warned.

  The hospital came into view. It was four stories tall and covered a large area, but it was nothing like Robin had described. There were no guards that she saw, and in fact it looked like a war zone. If there had been a guard, he was long gone.

  “This isn’t good,” Gretchen said, defeat in her voice.

  A group of teens on skateboards came through the open hospital doors, laughing and cursing as one kicked down a trashcan they passed.

  Amanda felt like she’d been the one kicked. “We should check and see if there’s anything left,” she muttered.

  “Really? Do we dare waste our time?” Jordan asked.

  “We have to check,” she replied. “After coming this far, it doesn’t make sense not to.”

  They moved through the doors the teens had just come out of. The state of the waiting room was awful. It had been vandalized with spray paint, disgusting words sprayed on the walls and the floors. Chairs had been sliced open and dumped over.

  “Why?” Tonya gasped. “Why would anyone do this?”

  Amanda shook her head as they moved through the double doors that
led into the exam and trauma rooms. Everything had been cleared out. The cabinet doors were either ripped off and hanging or gone altogether.

  “This is unbelievable. We’re not going to find anything here,” Drew said.

  Amanda thought he was right, but they had to look. “There should be a locked medicine cabinet here in the ER.”

  “Over here!” Jordan called out.

  Amanda took a step in his direction, glass crunching underfoot. She looked down and saw that it littered the floor. The glass for the medicine locker had been shattered, and it was completely empty. “Alright then,” she whispered.

  An elderly dark-skinned man wearing a blue denim shirt tucked into blue jeans ambled down the hall in their direction then, scowling at them. “There’s nothing here. Get out of here!” he shouted.

  “We’re looking for antibiotics,” Amanda said.

  He laughed. “You ain’t going to find anything here. The tweakers took the good stuff and the antibiotics were gone a couple weeks ago.”

  He walked closer, and Amanda noticed he had on a nametag. “Carl, did you work here?” she asked, not getting the feeling that he offered any threat. She saw no weapon on him, and her group was well-armed enough to stop him from trying anything if he did have some weapon hidden.

  He slowly nodded, eyeing their group. “I did. I was helping man this place until a few weeks ago when we got overrun. It’s a shame, a real shame. We was trying to help people, but they came in here and shot everyone or chased them off—all but me, anyhow. I’m too stubborn to leave, but they took everything.”

  Amanda sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing sorry can do to fix it. There’s no more medicine,” he said with real sadness.

  “Now what?” Drew asked.

  “I don’t know,” Amanda mumbled.

  “What made you think there’d still be supplies here? I hear lots of other places are helluvalot worse off than this,” Carl commented.

  “We met a doctor; he’s taking care of some really sick people the next town over. He gave us a note outlining what we needed, thinking this place was still in good shape,” Amanda explained.

  “Dr. Ashworth?” Carl asked.

  Amanda smiled. “Yes, Dr. Ashworth. He’s treating the entire town for typhoid. A lot have died, and he’s afraid they’ll lose more if he can’t get the medicine they need.”

  Carl hung his head, shaking it slowly. “What a shame. All of this is so pointless. And I know it’s only a matter of time before they come here and kill me, too. I’m tired of fighting. I’m done.”

  She hated to hear the sound of defeat in his voice, but could understand why he felt that way. He was an old man. He didn’t look all that healthy, and would be no match for people who thought there might be something worth stealing there.

  “We could take you back to Dr. Ashworth if you’d like,” Tonya said, stepping forward.

  Carl smiled at her. “Thank you, but my place is here. I’ve lived here my whole life; worked in this hospital for fifty years. This is where I’m going to die.”

  It was a grim prediction, but very likely. “Are there any other clinics or facilities in the city where we might find some antibiotics?” Amanda asked.

  Carl looked thoughtful for a second. “You know what, I’ve got an idea. Follow me,” he said, turning and shuffling down the hall, taking turns down corridors in the dark with an expertise that could only have come from years of working in the hospital.

  He opened a door to show several desks scattered around the room with tall filing cabinets pushed against a back wall. He walked to one of the cabinets and opened a drawer, pulling out a stack of papers and putting it on the desk.

  “What’s that?” Amanda asked.

  “Few people know there’s a warehouse in town—a medical supply warehouse. Looks just like a normal business building, so you’d never know it if you weren’t told. I know the address is on some of these invoices,” he said.

  Amanda smiled, resisting the urge to yell in excitement. “That would be amazing.”

  “Here it is—this place, right here. They don’t advertise what they are, but I’ve been around long enough to know people. I know they’ve got all kinds of stuff in that place, assuming it hasn’t been looted already,” he added. “It’s rough in that part of town, though. I don’t know if you’ll be able to get in there.”

  “We’ll check. Thank you, Carl. Are you sure you don’t want to go to Dr. Ashworth’s? I know he’d love the company, and he could use all the able bodies he can get right now,” Amanda said.

  Carl looked tired. “I’m okay here. I’ve got a nice warm bed, and I can’t bring myself to leave. I still have a few friends around, too.”

  Amanda understood his reluctance to leave. The fear of the unknown was hard to deal with.

  “Good luck,” she told him simply before he handed her the address and they turned to head out of the hospital.

  26

  Malachi watched Savannah sleep with Andy tucked against her in the small space of the tent. The little boy hadn’t said much in the last two weeks. He did talk to Savannah, but his sentences were stilted. The kid had been extremely traumatized, and Malachi felt completely inadequate to help him. Savannah had expressed to him that she felt the same way. They were kids themselves, not all that much older than Andy. They didn’t have witty anecdotes to impart or years of wisdom to help them know what to say or do. All they could do was talk to him… when he was willing.

  Savannah stirred in her sleep, her eyes opening and looking directly at Malachi. “Hi,” she said with a smile.

  “Hi.”

  “How long have you been awake?”

  He shrugged. “Not long. I’ve been thinking.”

  “About?”

  “We’ve been moving too slow. I think we need to pick up the pace and head straight to Boise.”

  “What’s in Boise?” she asked.

  “Your dad’s final destination, where we’re supposed to head if catching up seems unrealistic. It’s been two weeks, Savannah. Two weeks of wandering. It’s time to follow the plan,” he murmured.

  “It’s not my plan!”

  “You’re right. It wasn’t. But it is now. It’s time to go.”

  She looked away, first into the tent’s ceiling and then at Andy, before speaking. “I’m sorry. I know running away was stupid.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. We’re past that now. Or, rather, your dad is probably still going to be furious, but I’m okay,” he said with a laugh.

  She groaned. “That’s not all that comforting.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Are we going home today?” Andy asked, waking up slowly.

  He asked the same thing every morning. Malachi wasn’t sure if it was because he was confused or if he really thought there was a home to go to. He imagined it must be difficult for a little boy to understand his original home was gone. Almost all homes were gone.

  “We’re going to ride the horses some more today,” Savannah said, stroking the boy’s hair.

  Andy grimaced. “Again.”

  “Yes, again. Pretty soon we’re going to meet my dad and Malachi’s mom. They’ll be so happy to meet you,” Savannah told him. “And then we’ll find a home before you know it,” she said, though Malachi could hear the lie in her voice—both of them, anymore, had a pretty hard time believing in the idea of a permanent or real home.

  Andy didn’t look convinced, but he’d proven to be a real trouper. He got up and rubbed his eyes before they all crawled out of the tent to peer around the meadow they had made camp in the night before. “I’m ready,” he said bravely.

  It didn’t take long to take care of morning rituals and get the horses tacked up. They had so little to pack up, moving on happened quickly.

  Savannah helped Andy onto Raven’s back and handed him a bottle of water. Andy drank a few sips before handing it back. Climbing up behind him, she gathered the reins. “Ready,” Savannah said with a sigh.

 
Malachi mounted Charlie, giving him a light kick once he’d settled, and together the horses ambled out of the meadow and onto the road nearby. “I think we have to move faster and longer today,” Malachi said.

  “I know,” was Savannah’s reply.

  He squeezed Charlie’s sides, getting him to pick up the pace, and Raven followed, moving faster as they made their way over the flat pavement. It was dry, barren land. He’d struggled to find them food with no time and little to hunt for.

  “Did you guys eat a lot of fast food when you were on the road?” Savannah asked Malachi.

  This was something they’d been doing the last few days, talking about the days before the EMP and what their lives had been like.

  “No. Not really. Sometimes it would be a real luxury if we got to stop for a burger, but my parents preferred to go to grocery stores. My mom always made our lunches and, at night, we either had the potlucks or something my mom would cook. What about you?” he asked.

  “We ate out—a lot. I got really tired of it towards the end of our year on the road, but right now I would kill for a Big Mac,” she said and laughed.

  “And a Slurpee. That was something we did have a lot of,” he said, practically tasting the icy drink on his lips.

  “Ice. I miss ice,” Savannah chimed in. “I wonder if we’ll ever have ice again,” she said with a sigh.

  “Your dad thinks so. It’s why he’s doing all this. He really loves you, Savannah, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you have a normal future,” Malachi said.

  “I don’t know if ‘normal’ is realistic,” she replied.

  They passed a driveway, not bothering to venture down it. They had learned the hard way that it was too risky. They’d been met with more guns than Malachi cared to count. Despite the fact that they were three kids in need of food, people preferred to shoot first and ask questions later—except that they didn’t ask questions. They just ordered them to go away. Thankfully, they’d been able to hold on to the horses, which had been surprising enough in itself, but none of the regular folks they’d met along the way were interested in more mouths to feed. Not while they were busy protecting what little they had.