EMP Resurgence (Dark New World, Book 7) - An EMP Survival Story

by J. J. Holden

  What could Ethan say? He totally agreed that Houle could use a bullet to the cranium. Of course, seeing the need and somehow getting into NORAD undetected, 1500 miles away, were two different things. “Well, we can’t do anything unless he trips over his own feet. I wish we could be more proactive but we can’t get to his mountain bunker complex. I hate being on defense, but for now, it is what it is.”

  “Well, I think we should play it safe and you should stay in the bunker. You really shouldn’t be out here, Ethan. I’ll come by tonight with dinner. I know you haven’t had a real meal in over three weeks.”

  Ethan smiled. He had missed Amber’s company, sure, but he had also missed real food. Yes, his decision to come up topside was looking more and more like he’d made a good choice. He nodded. “Thanks, Amber.”

  * * *

  Jaz rose slowly out of sleep, feeling Choony’s hands gently stroke her hair. She smiled and wiggled her hips a bit, snuggling into the bed. She cracked her eyelids and squinted against the morning light streaming in from the many skylights.

  Wait a minute… Their house didn’t have skylights. A feeling of vertigo shot through her as her sleep-fogged mind tried to make sense of it, and she spun her head to look over her shoulder.

  It wasn’t Choony sitting on the bed next to her. Who was that guy?

  Her situation came flooding back to her in an instant. Jack. She scrambled away from him, but caught up in her blanket, she rolled off the bed and landed on her side. The hard cement floor didn’t yield a bit, and fire shot through her hip and shoulder. Despite the pain, she frantically scrambled to her feet, but as she moved, her rattling chain reminded her that she was bound, neck and wrists, to the bed. She could only get so far away from the monster.

  “Don’t touch me,” she screamed, feeling her heart pounding in her chest.

  Jack laughed at the display.

  Jaz felt loose fabric brushing against her and looked down. Her mouth opened into an “O” shape in her surprise—she was dressed in what looked like a royal-blue toga. She tried to remember when she might have put the thing on, but the last thing she recalled was eating din—

  She realized she must have been dosed with something, the “date rape drug” more than likely, and a wave of revulsion washed through her. She imagined that freak undressing her, staring at her, licking his lips… and putting her in this glorified sheet. What else had he done?

  Her gaze slid over the toga-thing from shoulder to hemline, the part she could see. It fell only to her upper thigh. The waistline was tied tightly to hug her body, and from the waist down, it was slit on both sides to reveal more of her hips and legs.

  “You fucking freak! What did you do to me? Why do I look like a Greek pinup?” Her face flushed red, and she imagined snapping his neck with her legs.

  “Oh don’t be like that, Jaz,” Jack said, getting up and walking toward her. “If you truly didn’t want men to adore you for your amazingly hot body, you wouldn’t have shown off so much of it.”

  “Is that the reason you’re doing this, Jack? Because you think I dress like a whore?”

  Jack chuckled. “Jaz, Jaz, Jaz,” he said, shaking his head. “Did you quickly forget how you done me wrong that night we were together?”

  Jaz could never forget. It was Blackout Night at Clanholme, where they were commemorating the one-year anniversary of the EMP, when Jack struck up a bizarre conversation with her when she was away from the crowds, walking alone. Jack had grabbed her and she knew by the look in his eyes, he was going to have his way with her whether she liked it or not. Luckily, Choony found them and was able to defuse the situation and get her away from him safely. Afterward, she’d learned he was on probation as a new member of the Clan, and when Choony told Frank about the situation with Jaz, he was exiled from Clanholme, left to fend for himself.

  Now Choony wasn’t here. No one from the Clan was. She’d have to get out of the situation herself.

  “I get that you’re angry about getting kicked out of Clanholme, but when the Clan finds out you kidnapped me, they’re going to hunt you down and kill you with their bare hands.”

  Jack crept closer. “Oh, but it’s much more than that. You think I’m doing this alone?” he said with a smile. “The foreplay is just for me.”

  Jaz’s mind reeled. If it wasn’t completely personal and he wasn’t alone, then he had to be working for someone.

  “Who are you working for?”

  “I wouldn’t worry your pretty, little mind over it. Just relax and we’ll have a good time.”

  Jaz was far from relaxed. This meant that her kidnapping was much more than she had original thought. She wondered how long he would keep her before she found out who else was behind this. Or would she ever find out? The only hope she had was that he would slip up, make one small mistake, but then there were the chains. There was no way she could get out of them. She’d have to play along. Gain his trust.

  “You know,” Jaz said, her voice quiet. The chains from her wrist rattled slightly as she reached out to touch him. “I’m, like, tired of playing coy. I know what you want—”

  Jack grabbed her hair, pulling her head back. Jaz let out a yelp. He leaned his face into hers. “You think I am stupid or something?”

  “No, no,” Jaz said.

  “I like my women to beg.”

  Just then, the door opened and a man came through with some bottles. Jack, still with a fistful of Jaz’s hair, pulled her toward the bed and released her. She toppled on top of the mattress. Shit. Another man.

  “Hey, found a few more bottles of liquor stashed in a drawer a couple of buildings down.”

  “You hear that, Jaz?” Jack winked at her. “We are going to have our own party tonight.”

  Fuck.

  The man with the bottles set them down on a table by the door and looked at Jaz. “Oh, you weren’t kidding, Jack. She is a hot, little kitten.”

  Jaz looked at the man. She didn’t recognize him. He was a little tall, but just looked big in every way. Corn-fed, as they say. His jeans were loose and frayed, and his blue tee shirt had old grease stains and what looked like little moth holes here and there. His eyes were mean, brown and dull—when they could be seen from under his shaggy brown lump of hair. He wore a permanent vapid smile, as though everything people said was a joke he didn’t want to admit not getting. The lights were on, but no one was home.

  Jack turned to Jaz, gazing at her up and down. “She sure is, Chump.” A chill ran down Jaz’s spine. She felt violated, like he was fondling her with his eyes. “Hand me that bottle of vodka, would ya,” Jack said, not tearing his eyes from Jaz.

  Chump handed him a clear bottle. Jack opened it and took a swig.

  “Your turn,” Jack said holding the bottle out to Jaz.

  Jaz shook her head. No way did she want to drink with this psychopath. If anything, she’d need a clear head.

  “C’mon, it’ll relax you,” Jack said.

  Jaz just stared at him. She wasn’t going to give in. There had been too many times in her life she had to deal with assholes like him and she was tired of being afraid, feeling trapped and helpless. She wasn’t going to give in anymore or play their game. She would tell him what he really was to his face—a pathetic loser who preys on woman because he was a pussy of a man. And if he wanted to hit her, fine, he’d hit her and it would prove her point.

  But before she could act, Jack leapt on top of her. She struggled against him but he was on her hand, and with the other hand bound to it, she couldn’t fight him. He grabbed her face, squeezing her cheeks together, jamming the mouth of the bottle into hers. The alcohol burned her throat as she choked, and she felt more burning through her nostrils as it leaked through her nose. Jack rose and laughed.

  “You fucking bastard,” she said after a fit of coughing. Her face flushed with rage. “You know what you are? A pathetic loser.” Jaz got up. “You’re weak, Jack. Why else would you beat and prey on women? You even had to chain me.” Jaz put out he
r hands to show him the cuffs on her wrists. “Unchain me, Jack,” she said, her eyes squinting, “or are you too afraid?”

  Jack clicked his tongue. “First declining drinks, and now calling your host names? You shouldn’t be so rude, Jaz.” Jack reached out and stroked Jaz’s hair and she pulled away. “I think it’s time you learned your place, kitten.” He took another long swig and grinned. Keeping his eyes glued to Jaz, he said, “Chump, grab me another bottle. It’s time to get this party started.”

  * * *

  Taggart stood to welcome the envoy as he came in and extended his hand. He shook it with a firm grip, then motioned toward a chair. The envoy sat, and Taggart followed suit, opposite him.

  “Mr. Lee, thank you for meeting with me on such short notice. I thought you’d want to know right away.”

  The young man presented a welcoming smile and said, “Of course. I would assume this means you’ve gone over your paperwork and considered our requirements?”

  Taggart nodded as he placed his hands on his desk. He drummed his fingers on a manila folder and looked intently at Lee. He was a bit uncertain about how his news would be received, given that it was bad news—from the invader point of view. New America could hardly afford a war in the north right now, not when the southern invaders were acting up. It reminded him of an old book he had read on military strategy, before the Industrial Revolution. Back then, without cars and trucks, most warfare occurred during what was called ‘campaigning season,’ that time between spring and autumn when roads were dry enough and food plentiful enough to accommodate an army on the move.

  “We have reviewed it,” Taggart said. “It is a lot of information, and we had to send for updates on much of it before we could analyze the data.”

  Mr. Lee leaned back in his chair and casually crossed his right leg, ankle resting on his left knee. “Of course. I know it was an unusual request, although I’m surprised you didn’t have that information already at hand. In the Northern Cantonment, we receive regular reports from each district, and each district commander receives regular reports from the areas under their control. Before we get into your decision, I would just like you to know that your staff has treated me well, and I have found my accommodations to be most adequate. Pleasant, even.”

  Taggart flashed a brief smile, nodding. “Thank you. Frankly, while I would love nothing more than to shoot you where you sit, we understand that the Northern Cantonment isn’t going anywhere. Not anytime soon. Since you’re here to stay, at least for the foreseeable future, I afforded you every courtesy due a visiting foreign dignitary. I’m a soldier, but I’m also a realist.”

  Taggart envisioned himself plunging his boot knife into Lee’s eye. Every damn invader deserved that much and more, but while that would have felt extremely gratifying, killing one enemy underling wouldn’t have helped the people who relied on him for their safety. Not yet.

  “Indeed,” Lee said. “Now that we have the pleasantries out of the way, I’d be delighted to hear what you called me in to discuss.”

  Taggart reached for the folder on his desk and handed it to Lee. “This is our official analysis, not including anything vital to national security, of course. It’s a bit complex, with a lot of numbers and equations, but that’s the source data we used in making our decision.”

  Lee took the offered folder and tucked it between his leg and the chair’s arm, then looked at Taggart expectantly.

  Taggart continued, “Unfortunately, we’re unable to accommodate your request. First, there’s the obvious issue that your deal was between the Northern Cantonment and the Confederation, not New America. More importantly, however, is the second factor. Our analysis shows that we simply are unable to spare so many supplies. It is not our intention to antagonize you or your government. We have managed to leave each other alone since the stalemate after the Second Battle of Scranton, and we’ve both benefited from the brief, relatively peaceful time since then.”

  Lee’s face shifted subtly, once vaguely welcoming but now stone-cold, unreadable. Taggart resisted the urge to shift in his seat. He reminded himself yet again that a two-front war, if both enemies should turn to open conflict, would be hard to maintain for the still-recovering New America.

  Lee was silent for several seconds, his gaze unwavering. At last, he said, “I must say, I’m deeply disappointed. I had hoped we would come to some sort of arrangement. I suppose that this means my leaders will choose to take the issue up with the Confederation directly. It would be preferable for New America to review that situation as a purely regional conflict, rather than allowing the tensions—and any related conflicts—to affect your relations with us.”

  Nodding slowly, Taggart said, “I do understand your position. While that’s a reasonable request, you should know that the Confederation is a New America member-state. Along with that status, there come certain responsibilities on the part of New America as a whole.”

  Lee folded his hands in his lap and looked up at the ceiling. With his eyes locked onto the ceiling panels, he replied, “I understand your position. I’ve been authorized to grant you a delay of one month. In that time, it’s our hope that you will remind the Confederation of their obligation under the terms of the agreement we made with them.”

  “You can rest assured I’ll be talking to them directly about this.”

  “Perhaps they could even negotiate a payment plan, rather than the lump sum we first agreed to. The Northern Cantonment wants to be reasonable. Everyone has their challenges these days, but as I’m sure you can imagine, we faced a winter of hardship in order to send off those supplies to the Confederation. Without our supplies, General Houle would almost have certainly won that war, yet we stepped in to assist them. We helped them out of enlightened self-interest, but that changes nothing.”

  As he spoke, Taggart sat quietly, patiently listening. He found himself nodding in agreement. He realized that he would probably do the same, feel the same, if he was in their situation. Nonetheless, he had an obligation to protect the Confederation, just as he would any other state within New America.

  He let out a long breath and said, “We’ll definitely speak with their envoys. They have representatives here in Hackensack who are authorized to negotiate on behalf of the Confederation in general, and even more so for the Clan in particular. I’ll break this down for them, and if we can’t find a good resolution through the envoys, I’ll communicate directly with the governor of the Confederation, sending an envoy and put pressure on them.”

  “I am glad to hear that. It will look better for you in my report, that way.”

  “That said, I would like two months rather than one.”

  Lee exhaled sharply through his nose, lips pursed in frustration. “I’m not authorized to give you two months. I’ll send a message to my leadership to ask for an extension, but I don’t think they’ll grant it. So please, operate under the assumption that you will only have one month. After that, the situation will change dramatically, even though it’s not what any of us want.”

  “What do you mean by ‘change dramatically’? We want to avoid a military conflict, no matter how heated the economic debate.”

  Mr. Lee shrugged. “We don’t want a military conflict, either. Nonetheless, it will be what it will be. We view economics and troops as being both tools of war. It’s not up to me to decide the Northern Cantonment response—that’s up to you first and my leaders second.”

  “It would be a shame to have to fight again.” Taggart eyed Lee warily.

  “I want you to know I like you, Mr. President. New America has been reasonable to me during my stay here, and I see a profound sense of duty from your people, much different from what our agents observed before the war.”

  Taggart shrugged, but he couldn’t argue with that. America had shed its fat, just as its citizens had. “It seems that those who have survived were the ones who understood hard work, and the strength of people working together. If this conflict should escalate into a military confli
ct, even a low-intensity one, I want you to know that it isn’t personal.”

  Lee smiled wanly. “I, too, would rather we get along well. I wish you the best of luck in getting the Confederation to meet their obligations.”

  With that, both men stood and Taggart shook the young man’s hand. His grip was as firm as ever, and they exchanged a smile. They were both faking friendliness, Taggart figured, but it was his political obligation to be polite here. He showed Lee to the door and closed it quietly behind him as he left.

  When Taggart got back to his desk, he pulled out his favorite whiskey in the world—Wild Turkey. “Eagan, get in here. I know you’re listening.”

  The back door to his office opened and Eagan stepped in. He didn’t wear his usual smile.

  Taggart said, “So, I guess that bothered you as much as it did me. It seems that a conflict might be unavoidable.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ve seen the numbers from the Confederation’s output, current and forecasted. There’s no way they can meet more than half of this obligation, and that’s assuming they don’t have to waste a bunch of resources in a pointless conflict with the other invaders.”

  Taggart rubbed his chin. “Take a note. I want to send a message to the Southern Cantonment leaders to ask for a diplomatic resolution to whatever issues caused them to be so aggressive lately. Between you and me, if we can get one or the other, north or south, to step back from conflict… Well, then we should be able to beat either one of them, individually.”

  Eagan nodded. “True. And if we can get the southern invaders to stop putting so much pressure on the Confederation, then they’ll be in a better position to repay their debt to the Northern Cantonment. As distasteful as it is, it’s in everyone’s best interest if it goes down that way.”

  Taggart was quiet for a moment as an idea struck him, and he worked it through in his mind. It just might work, he decided, and snapped his fingers. “Eagan, one more thing. I want you to put your mind toward how we can get the new leaders of Philadelphia to join us, maybe even putting some pressure of their own on Maryland.”