Small Town EMP (Book 3): Survive The Conflict

by Hamilton, Grace

  Her hands were shaking and her heart pounding. She couldn’t fall apart yet, though. Her mission wasn’t over. “Everyone okay?” she asked.

  “We’re good. Let’s get in there before the survivors make it over here,” Ezra said, jumping out of the vehicle.

  Amanda nodded, opening the door and getting out to stand on shaking legs. Tonya and Gretchen helped Drew inside the building.

  “It’s going to be through that steel door, and that door isn’t going to be easy to get past,” she said, pointing to the white door ahead of them.

  Before they could worry about how to open the door, however, it opened, a gun barrel poking out that was then followed by an Airmen in fatigues.

  “I’m going to ask you to leave. We don’t have food or water. There’s nothing for you here,” the young man said in a controlled voice.

  Amanda studied the uniform for a moment, recognizing it as the real thing. “I’m Amanda Patterson, former Airman First Class. I’m not here for water or food,” she told the man, praying he’d believe her. “We’re here because we know who’s been behind the EMP and how they’re operating, and we know how to stop them. We need to launch your missiles at satellites that are going to keep us in this perpetual state of darkness if we don’t.”

  The guy didn’t look convinced. “Right, because that sounds completely legit,” he replied with an eyebrow raised.

  Amanda sighed. “Look, I know it sounds far-fetched, but can we convince you inside the bunker? There’s an army of men out there that are intent on killing us, and we’ve traveled a long distance to get here. Please, we’ve come a long way to try and do this for a reason.”

  The man looked at each of them. “Give me your weapons first. Put them on the ground and kick them over here. I’m not alone in here. If you try anything, you will be shot and killed.”

  Amanda’s head bobbed up and down. “I get it. We won’t try anything.”

  They pushed the few guns they had over and the Airman kicked them out of the way. “Keep your hands up.”

  Amanda went first, entering a narrow hallway. The others crowded in behind her. They were met by another Airman and led down underground. “In there,” the second man ordered.

  They were pushed inside a very small lounge. They kept their hands in the air, doing their best to appear non-threatening.

  “Explain,” the first man ordered, keeping his gun trained on them.

  “There are satellites currently in space which have nuclear warheads that could cause another EMP. We can’t fix what’s wrong already, but we can ensure it can’t happen again, at least not by the controlling force,” Amanda explained. “We have every reason to believe that the NWO has plans to counteract any measures the government is taking to get the grid back up, and that they’re prepared to trigger another EMP at the worst moment possible if we don’t take action first.”

  The two Airmen exchanged a look. “We can’t launch those missiles without direct orders.”

  “I have the launch codes,” Amanda said simply. “I think the President and all your other bosses will understand when they learn why you launched them. This could change everything. We have a chance to get back to normal once again,” Amanda begged them.

  The men exchanged a look. “We need to talk it over. Stay in here and don’t move.”

  The door slammed behind them. Amanda looked at her friends, seeing their grief and pain. Drew had already lowered himself to the floor, and Gretchen was doing her best to tend to his leg. Amanda closed her eyes and sent up another silent prayer, begging for the men to see the right path forward. If they didn’t, she would have to force them—and kill them if she had to.

  35

  Austin took a split second to evaluate his options. He wasn’t going down without a fight. He lunged, pushing Ennis out of the way and throwing himself at Zander, propelling the man into the plate-glass windows facing the runway. Zander’s body slammed against the window, giving him leverage to push back. The force of his weight nearly toppled Austin to the ground, but he managed to stay up, taking a swing and slamming his fist into Zander’s jaw. The sound of bone hitting bone, followed by a grunt from Zander, gave Austin the adrenaline rush he needed to keep fighting.

  He was about to swing again when Zander brought up a knee, connecting with Austin’s stomach and driving the breath from his lungs with a loud whooshing sound. Austin’s instinct was to bend over to protect his stomach, but just stopped himself from doing it—he knew that’s what Zander wanted. A knee to the face would take him down. He pushed past the pain and shoved hard, putting some space between himself and Zander before lunging at him again, swinging with his right and then his left fist, landing on Zander’s jaw and eye socket.

  Austin felt like he was getting the upper hand in the fight and began punching in earnest, his hands and wrists growing numb as he unleashed months of anger on his nemesis. His strength began to wane, though, his punches becoming weaker, giving Zander the opportunity he needed to push him away.

  Austin stood a few feet away struggling to draw in air as he stared at Zander’s bloodied face. It felt good to see the damage. He wanted to make him bleed more. He grinned, his own split lip causing him to wince in pain. Then, as if in slow motion, Zander reached behind him and produced a knife, holding it in his hand as if he was ready to throw it at him. Austin stared at the blade, calculating the damage it would do when it plunged into his body—and then he heard something behind him.

  “Down!” Ennis shouted.

  Austin tried to duck, but Zander saw the danger and lunged towards Austin, wrapping his arm around Austin’s neck before he had a chance to move away.

  “Get back!” Zander shouted.

  Austin pulled with all of his strength, kicking back and jerking himself out of Zander’s arms. The knife blade sliced his arm as he moved. Another soldier appeared and slammed into Ennis’s back, the blow knocking him forward.

  “Get them!” Zander screamed, lunging at Austin with the knife.

  Austin kicked high, knocking it from Zander’s hands and rushing at him again, slamming his body into the glass. Zander shoved hard, putting some space between them and allowing him to throw a punch that landed on Austin’s chin. Several gunshots erupted from somewhere to his right. Austin looked towards the new threat and saw that Ennis and Harlen were engaged in a gun battle. He couldn’t help. Zander was his focus.

  The two men continued to fight, punching and kicking as they tried to tackle one another to the ground, both knowing that would likely be the end, depending on who ended up on top. Their struggle took them back into the doorway that led down to the bunker, and Austin fought with all he had, his body growing more tired with every blow. The sound of gunfire continued to rage. As long as there was gunfire, he had to believe Ennis was still fighting.

  Zander delivered a powerful kick, throwing Austin through the door and into the massive bunker. He found himself on a catwalk of sorts with a steel grate under him, giving him a view of the computer center below. He jumped to his feet, knowing the stakes were raised. The narrow catwalk with the waist-high railing wasn’t a great place to fight. He could feel the structure shake as he lunged forward, knocking Zander to the steel surface.

  The man was smaller than himself, but he was a fighter. He jumped to his feet, swinging out and connecting with Austin’s jaw. The blow sent him reeling into the railing, his tall frame bending backwards as the rail caught his back. Zander was on him in a flash. Austin pushed against Zander, nearly knocking himself over the railing with the force. It gave him the space he needed to get away from his tenuous position. He was about to throw another punch when he was hit from behind. The blow knocked him to his knees and made his head spin. He fought to keep from passing out, slowly turning to see his attacker and Wendell standing there, a look of pride on the small man’s face as he smiled. There was a steel pipe in his hand.

  “Wendell?” Austin murmured, trying to understand what was happening.

  “Thanks
,” Zander sneered. “I knew you’d come in handy eventually.”

  “I told you I was on your side!” Wendell assured him, smiling at Austin and then Zander.

  Austin felt sickened to see Wendell’s outright betrayal coming around as a deciding force again. He didn’t have long to dwell on it, however. Zander kicked him hard in the ribs, knocking him to his side and making him gasp for air. Wendell took that as his cue to imitate the move and kicked him from behind, the toe of his boot hitting him in the kidneys. It was blow after blow as the two men kicked him in his torso and head. Austin curled into a fetal position, trying to protect his body and doing his best to shield his head with his arms. He knew he was going to die, and at the hands and feet of not just Zander, but Wendell, as well, which made it all the worse.

  A single gunshot stopped the violent kicks to his body. He opened his eyes and rolled to the side, attempting to crawl away. His body throbbed all over, and he could feel blood trickling down the side of his face, likely from the blow to the back of his head. He recognized Ennis’s boots and looked up. He was thrilled to see his brother—until he saw the red patch on his stomach. He’d been injured and was bleeding badly. Wendell lay dead now, a gunshot wound to his head. Austin struggled to stand up. Ennis held the gun on Zander, his face a sickly pale, his hand shaking with the effort. Austin saw how dangerously weak his brother was, but he wasn’t in much better shape himself.

  “Shoot him!” Austin ordered, his voice barely above a whisper as he fought to recover from the beating he’d just taken.

  Before Ennis could pull the trigger, Zander dove at him, but he tripped over Austin’s foot and fell into Ennis rather than delivering the hard tackle he’d intended. He heard his brother grunt, Zander cursing, and then the two of them slammed into the railing.

  “Die!” his brother shouted as the two flipped over the railing, Zander’s body on top of Ennis’s.

  A gunshot rang out, followed by Zander’s shout of pain a split second before a sickening thud echoed up through the room.

  Austin screamed, using the rail to pull himself up as he looked over the edge to verify what he had heard.

  “No!” he shouted, staring down at his brother’s broken body. A pool of blood was forming around him. His eyes were staring up at him, but seeing nothing. He was dead. Zander wasn’t moving, either. His neck was grossly twisted. Austin hoped he was alive and suffering. Zander deserved to suffer dearly for the pain he had caused over the last few months. The victory over Zander was bitter, though. His heart ached at staring into his brother’s lifeless eyes, even as he vowed to make sure his death wouldn’t be in vain.

  He gingerly pulled himself to his feet. His head was spinning, and there was a stitch in his back that had him doubled over. He hobbled along the catwalk, making his way back to the tunnel that led to the center. He had to find Sarah. He hoped she was still alive. He needed her to do her thing with the computers below. In moments, the sound of gunfire had him pressing his body against the wall.

  Just because he’d won the battle, that didn’t mean he had won the war. He wanted to sink to his knees and sob, but he couldn’t. He had to keep going. He carefully poked his head out the door and saw a soldier down, his gun lying beside him. Austin grabbed it, prepared to take out as many of Zander’s men as he could.

  And then he looked out the window, and he froze. “What the—” he muttered, staring at men and women in desert fatigues shooting at the men wearing black jumpsuits.

  Had the cavalry finally arrived? He watched the gun battle for a few seconds more before remembering he had to get to Sarah. He rushed towards one office door, forcing it open and finding the space empty before opening a second door. There, he found her, bloodied and bruised and looking like she was barely breathing.

  “Sarah?” he whispered.

  “I’m here,” she said, clearly not seeing him.

  “Sarah, it’s Austin,” he said, crouching behind her and quickly untying her arms before moving to untie her ankles.

  “Austin?” She sounded confused.

  “Zander’s dead. I’m here. The computer center is cleared out. The United States military is here. They’re killing them,” he said.

  “We have to hurry. I’m afraid I’m going to lose consciousness again,” she muttered, her voice weak but still holding that all-business attitude.

  “Can you walk?” he asked.

  She shook her head, moaning at the movement. “My legs are broken.”

  His eyes widened as he realized she had to be in shock. Two broken legs had to have her in excruciating pain. His own injuries prevented him from carrying her, though. He looked to the desk and quickly grabbed the office chair, wheeling it to where she was barely staying upright in the chair. He very carefully moved her into the wheeled chair and pushed her towards the bunker.

  “Hang on. We’ll get you help,” he assured her as he pushed her down the long tunnel that led underground.

  They made it to the computer center and he turned the chair carefully, walking backwards down the ramp to the ground floor to prevent her from being dumped out. She sucked in a breath when she saw the two bodies lying on the floor.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  “So am I. There’ll be time for that later. Can you tell me what to do?” he asked anxiously.

  “Push me up to that terminal. I can see out of my right eye. I’ll need you to put my hands on the keyboard,” she said, her voice weak.

  He very gently lifted her hands, her wince of pain making him wish he could kill Zander all over again. He watched in amazement as her fingers moved over the keyboard. She was a remarkable woman. She paused once, seeming to slowly draw in a breath before continuing what she was doing.

  “You’re doing great,” he encouraged her.

  “Like you would know,” she quipped breathlessly.

  He grinned from behind her, happy she still had her very dry sense of humor intact. She tapped away before her hands stopped moving.

  “Sarah?” he questioned.

  “It’s done.”

  “It’s done?”

  “Yes. Let’s hope Amanda has managed to do her part,” she breathed out. “I’m tired,” she mumbled, “so tired, and it’s done…” her voice trailed off, and then her head slumped forward slightly.

  “Sarah?”

  She didn’t answer. He carefully turned the chair. Sarah’s head dropped forward, her body slack. He gulped before carefully extending his fingers to her neck. He detected a pulse—faint, but it was there.

  Pulling the sat. messenger out, he typed in the message: Ready here. Launch now. He wanted to say so much more, but the shorter the message, the more likely it would get through clearly and not overtax either device’s battery. And, really, what more was there to say? He clicked send, waiting and watching as the cursor blinked back at him for what felt like forever before indicating the message had been sent. Blowing out a breath, he left Sarah in the computer center and made his way back up the tunnel to check on the firefight. He needed to see if the coast was clear before he attempted to get her—or himself—help.

  “Dad!” he heard a familiar voice cry out.

  At first, he thought maybe he was dead. But he turned his head toward the voice anyway, and saw Savannah racing towards him. Malachi was right behind her, accompanied by a woman who looked very much like a military commander.

  Savannah threw her arms around him, squeezing him, hurting him and infusing him with strength at the same time. He hugged her close, tears streaming down his face. She pulled away, her hands going to his face. “Oh God, you’re hurt.”

  “I’m okay. I’m fine,” he assured her, catching his breath and telling himself that this was real—this was happening. He had his daughter back.

  Malachi stepped forward, a smile on his face. “I told you I could do it.”

  He chuckled, the action jarring his ribs as he tightened his hold on his daughter. “Yes, you did. Thank you, Malachi.”

  “
Dad, this is Macbeth. She brought her unit to help you guys. Where is everyone?” she asked, suddenly realizing it was just him.

  “Savannah,” he began, and then he choked on his brother’s name.

  “Uncle Ennis?” she whispered, tears in her eyes.

  He slowly shook his head. Her hand clasped over her mouth, tears filling her eyes. “Oh no.”

  “Was Harlen out there?” he asked.

  “I didn’t see him,” Malachi answered.

  Austin closed his eyes briefly before shaking off the pain. His brother had sacrificed his life to save Austin. It was going to be one of those things that stuck with him for as long as he lived. He could grieve later, he reminded himself.

  “Sir, it’s good to meet you. Your daughter filled me in on what you guys plan to do. Was your mission successful?”

  “Yes. Well, this side of it. Now we have to wait.”

  Savannah was quietly sobbing. A little boy stepped forward and grabbed her hand. “It’ll be okay,” he soothed her.

  Austin looked at Malachi for answers, wondering how in the world they had ended up with this child as a companion.

  “This is Andy. He and Savannah kind of found each other. He’s with us now,” he said firmly.

  Austin looked at the little boy and offered a smile. “Hi Andy. I’m Austin.”

  The boy hid partially behind Savannah’s body. Austin didn’t know the story, but imagined it wasn’t something that could be explained away in the next few minutes.

  “I need to get back to the bunker and check on Sarah,” he said. “She needs medical attention, and we need to see if Harlen made it through the fight—last I saw him, he and Ennis were firing on NWO soldiers.”

  “I have a medic. He can check you out,” Macbeth said, and with an extra-calm voice that suggested she thought he might be in shock. Austin wasn’t sure she was wrong, but that didn’t change anything.