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

by J. J. Holden

  * * *

  1700 HOURS - ZERO DAY +648

  Cassy sat on the couch and looked around the room. There was Frank, sitting on the recliner, in the Clanleader’s position of course. One chair was empty—Grandma Mandy’s. They’d left her chair empty ever since she passed away, a reminder to everyone of the moral compass she’d once provided. In a way, that empty chair still did provide that compass, as everyone present could practically hear in their heads what Mandy would have said on any issue.

  Normally, there would have been three chairs empty—Mandy’s, Joe Ellings’, and Choony’s—but their Korean-American friend had returned home to recover from his wounds in safety. It was so good to have Choony back—he’d always been her sounding board and counterbalance, and she felt more whole with him around.

  Ethan and Michael rounded out the Council’s presence here tonight, since Joe was still in Philly. They hadn’t heard word from him in a while, but that was normal.

  “So,” Frank began, “thank you all for joining us.” Frank turned to Choony. “Glad to see you’re feeling well enough to join us, Choony.”

  Choony nodded from his wheelchair, acknowledging Frank, but didn’t say anything. His patient smile said enough.

  Frank continued, “First, my update. No word from Joe in Philadelphia, but no reason to worry. A merchant caravan should be passing through from there in the next few days, and we hope to get a letter from him then. I’ll open the floor to you all to report, now.”

  Choony raised his hand, but didn’t stand as was the custom. With his injuries, everyone had agreed that it was fine for him to stay seated. He said, “You’ve all read my report about what happened to Jaz and me, and I expect no sympathy or empty words, but I think it would be prudent to first ask everyone here if they heard from Jack. If someone has, we can go from there. If they haven’t, then we should put out an alert to be on the lookout for him, just in case he tries to come back here. He had some friends in the Clan, after all.”

  Frank nodded and Ethan typed furiously on his laptop. Cassy agreed it was a good idea. Jack had become a menace to them all, and needed a good hanging for what he’d done to Jaz and Choony.

  They discussed the wording for the alert, which only took about ten minutes. It was pretty straightforward.

  Once he’d finished typing, Ethan stood and Frank acknowledged him. He set his laptop down, glanced at Michael rather oddly, then looked at Frank. “We have confirmation that Watcher One, the man responsible for blowing up that poor young Clan girl with a drone, is now providing intel and even satellite images to the Southern Cantonment. That means he’s had to print them out and have them delivered, since Maryland’s invaders don’t have any working computer gear or network that we know of.”

  Frank took a sharp breath and said, “That’s terrible. They can get aerial photos of all our positions with only a day or two’s delay. Michael, order cammo netting over all emplacements and supply depots small enough to hide.”

  Ethan continued, “We also have confirmation that when Jack kidnapped Jaz, he didn’t only have personal reasons. He has become an agent for Maryland at some point since we failed him on his Clan probationary period.”

  Cassy perked up at that. “How do you know he became an agent after? If he had been a spy all along, that would explain how their death squad learned of the bunker’s hidden escape route.”

  Ethan visibly shuddered. “Good point. Frank, I’d like to begin quietly questioning all the people he associated with during his probationary period.”

  Frank nodded. “Good idea. Now, what do we know about the increased activity with our southern neighbors?”

  “Well, we have a list of their raids and the results. Analysis shows no obvious patterns to their attacks so far, and the battalion that raided Ephrata was their largest incursion before or since. They lost a lot of men, guns, ammo—and they didn’t get the supplies they were after, which was mostly food.”

  Michael stood and said, “I believe they’re just testing our defenses and positions. Mapping out incursion routes in advance of a major attack, perhaps, but not as intensely as I would expect to see if the invasion was imminent. Perhaps war is not inevitable.”

  Frank snapped his fingers and leaned forward. “Damn, I hope not. Should we redirect Joe Ellings down there, from Philly?”

  Cassy frowned. Not all of Frank’s ideas were good, after all. “No way. Philadelphia is a huge wildcard. If we can get them to join our cause, even at a steep price, it radically changes things for the Southern Cantonment. They’d have to keep troops in reserve to defend against a possible attack from there, which means fewer troops attacking us.”

  Frank agreed, and told Ethan to consider who to send south as a diplomat. Then he turned to Cassy and said, “What can you tell us about Confederation overall readiness?”

  Cassy stood. She had some good news, for once—her plan to lure the invaders into a trap, cementing Ephrata’s return to the fold within the Confederation, had worked thanks to Michael’s usual battlefield brilliance…

  “The raid on Ephrata woke everyone up. They’ve realized that they can’t just leave us to deal with the wolves alone, not if they want to survive. It was a fresh reminder about strength in numbers, because Michael’s counter-attack there sealed the raiders’ fates. It was a PR coup.”

  She sat down and Frank nodded. “Good, good. Let’s get a list of available troops, transport, materials, and so on. Cassy, that’s your job. Michael, what do you have for us?”

  Michael stood again and as usual, his expression was inscrutable while he was ‘on duty.’ “Our troops are ready, but not at full alert. We doubled our outlying scout screen and increased the number of radios Ethan and our redneck engineer Dean Jepson rigged up. We’ll be able to react to any major incursions. Liz Town remains a problem, in that their Packs are eager to fight but Carl is still basically hermiting in his mansion.”

  Frank grunted.

  What else was there to say? Carl was a shell of the man Cassy had once known.

  Michael continued, “One other thing to report. This stays here, in these council chambers. This information is highly classified.”

  “We understand,” Frank said. “It is so noted. Continue, please.”

  “Watcher One has become an existential threat to the Confederation in general and the Clan in particular. I have just finished putting together a SpecOps team and, over the next few weeks, we’ll be training hard for a mission.”

  “What mission?” Frank leaned forward, looking fairly alarmed…

  “Ethan and I, with my hand-picked team, are going to locate, enter, and destroy Watcher One’s bunker, with a secondary priority of eliminating Watcher One himself.”

  Frank jumped to his feet, face turning pale. “No. That’ll be impossible. We need Ethan to manage our intelligence ops, and you’re the damn general for the entire Confederation. What are we supposed to do without you two while you’re off on some wild goose chase? Do you even know where his damn bunker is?”

  Michael didn’t look alarmed or upset. Cassy thought he looked more like a patient parent explaining things to a child as he said, “Ethan has trained a replacement who is fully capable of running the message operations that are his primary duty. And Carl’s still not ready to fill my role, so I have a replacement XO who will continue preparing our defenses, which is something any highly-trained, intelligent monkey could do. Sorry, Frank, but I’m vetoing your veto. You’re right, I am the general for the whole Confederation, and this is a Confederation-level decision. I’ll make sure you’re in good hands while we’re gone, though. I promise.”

  * * *

  Two hours later, the meeting split up and everyone left but Choony. He was staying in Cassy’s house until he recovered, unwilling to spend time in his earthbag dome home without Jaz. Not that they’d spent much time in Clanholme in the last year. Besides, the Complex was a long way away in Choony’s condition, and they’d have had to spare someone to help him every hour
of the day.

  Anyway, Cassy was happy to have him stay on her couch. She handed him a cup of nettle tea. He adored the stuff and it was practically a superfood. She took her own to the other end of the couch. She sat, crossed her legs, and smiled at him.

  “So,” he said, “what do you think of Ethan and Michael’s idea?” He sipped the tea and scrunched his face up as the bitterness hit him.

  Why he liked this stuff, she had no idea, but she had gotten used to it. “I think there’s nothing much we can do to stop them. That’s what I think.”

  Choony chuckled at her. “I’ve rubbed off on you. That’s a very Buddhist way of looking at it. It’s also quite true.”

  She pursed her lips. She hated bringing up a sensitive subject, but had to know. “Please don’t take offense to this, but why is Jaz staying behind in Hoboken? If it’s too personal, just say so. I just—”

  He waved his hand dismissively. “No, it’s not too personal. She seeks the one who did this to us. While I had hoped she could let it go and accept what happened, it seems she cannot. Perhaps hunting that demon down will make her feel whole again, but from what I’ve seen, revenge never heals those old wounds.”

  “Still, Jack is a traitor to New America, his new home, and still a threat to you and Jaz as long as he lives. It’s not pointless for her to hunt him down.”

  He shrugged. “I disagree. Others are already hunting him, and as long as he is on the run, he is harmless to us. She could have returned with me to begin her own healing process, but you know how Jaz is…”

  She reached across the couch and put her hand on his arm. Her heart had pretty much broken to hear what those two had endured. What they’d been made to watch as each endured. Jack was evil. “I’m grateful you are back alive, and will recover. If you or Jaz need anything, or need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

  He took a deep breath, set his tea on the table, and leaned back into the couch, stretching his arm out along the top toward Cassy. He met her gaze directly and said, “She and I are safe. I am more immediately worried about this war coming up.”

  Cassy took another sip of the bitter draught. “You heard Michael. Their raids are uncoordinated.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, they haven’t really done anything more than they’ve always done. They’ve just been doing a lot more raiding in this past month or so. There’s no guarantee a war is coming. For all we know, their leader is just bleeding off his disgruntled soldiers in suicide missions, or getting them out of town on raids so they can’t stir up trouble. We just don’t know.”

  “I hope you’re right, Cassy. You usually are. For now, we can sit back and enjoy our hard-earned freedom. We’re more or less at peace, no matter what storm clouds lurk on the horizon. I’m alive and healing, and Jaz is alive, healing in her own way. With her hunt, she’s taking back the power, I think, and I can’t blame her.”

  Cassy nodded slowly, just taking his words in. “You know what? Memorial Day is in a couple weeks.”

  “I almost forgot.”

  “You’ll be here for that, right?”

  “Yeah,” Choony said, “and Jaz might, too, if she finishes up before then.”

  “I don’t have anyone to go with, since Frank is going with Michael and Ethan. They have this thing they do on the old holidays, very hush hush. So I need a date. You game?”

  Choony smiled, as she had expected him to. Life went on and he was always the first to point that out, the first to enjoy life’s smaller pleasures that went unnoticed by everyone else, including by Cassy herself. He said, “I’d be delighted. I find myself needing a date, since I’ll be here for it this year. Whatever will people say, though?”

  Cassy laughed out loud. “The same thing they’ve always said. I am apparently a cougar, despite my face scars and advancing old age.”

  He shook his head and let out a melodramatic sigh. “You were beautiful before the scars, and you’re more beautiful now that your insides are as gorgeous as your outsides. And you’re what, thirty-five? Something like that? Supermodels have been your age. And all that work on the farm… You are, as they say, smoking. Let them talk.”

  She laughed again. He was full of crap, but pleasantly so. “You make a lady feel young again. Anyway, it’s going to be a big celebration this year, since the Clan is playing host for the Confederation. Apparently, people like our apple cider. Who knew that would become our main export?”

  “You mean besides knowledge of how to farm well without fertilizers, tractors, balers, and big delivery trucks?” he replied, smirking.

  “Our cider is the best around, though. At least east of the Mississippi, which is all we’ve had the pleasure of tasting since the war began.”

  “Regardless, we should enjoy this time, Cassy. We have peace right now, more or less.”

  “Certainly more of it than we’ve had at any time before the Mountain War.”

  “Yeah, so enjoy it. Spend time with your kids, bake pies and share them. You know… really live.”

  Cassy lay her head back against the couch’s backrest, looking up at the ceiling. He was right, of course. And if he could say that with everything he’d just been through, then surely she could say so, too.

  “Thanks, Choony. I’m going to bed. For once, I’m going to sleep like a baby, too. Let tomorrow bring its woes tomorrow, right?”

  Choony didn’t respond, and Cassy looked over at him only to find his eyes were closed, a faint growling snore escaping him. She smiled and got up, grabbed his blanket from behind the couch, and covered him up with it.

  She padded quietly to the stairs leading up to her loft bedroom and blew out the lantern they’d attached to the wall like a sconce. “Good night, Choony,” she whispered, then climbed up to her own room.

  Tomorrow’s problems weren’t real yet. She would take his advice, and worry about tomorrow when it happened.

  * * *

  “Not a chance in hell,” Janice said, looking up at Mark from her desk.

  Mark frowned. He hadn’t expected her to jump at the chance to spy on the CIA even more than she already did, but he hadn’t expected her to shut him down completely. She had no way to get top-secret information directly, but she knew people. Not all information passed through official channels, especially among those spooks.

  Ignoring her refusal, Mark said, “I’m thinking the CIA director’s civilian aid would be your best bet. Harry trusts you, and you haven’t ever given him a reason not to. I think this is important enough to risk it.”

  “Mark, for all you know, Operation Raptor is only some new push on hygiene to get everybody to brush their teeth more.” She furrowed her eyebrows at him.

  He shook his head. There was no way she believed that any more than he did. “You’ve seen a lot of the same reports I have. I just ran the most recent batch of reports through OCR software and analyzed them with word cloud and keyword density check programs—this new operation was named multiple times. If it wasn’t classified Top Secret, I would’ve received a copy already. We both know this is some secret squirrel op.”

  His primary concern, other than her flat out refusal, had been her safety and not blowing her cover. If it became known she leaked information to him, she would be cut off, and could even be executed for espionage. This was, after all, Martial Law in a time of war. Hell, he could be executed too.

  “Have you heard any word about my family?”

  “The same as last time. But I promise you, we’ll keep looking.”

  Janice closed her eyes and let out a long, slow sigh. “I have an idea on how to get that information from Harry Emerson. Just leave it to me and don’t ask too many questions. Also, I suspect you’re going to owe me a big one.”

  Mark turned his head to look at her directly. “Of course. Do what you have to do, and I’ll make it right in the end.”

  * * *

  Mark had taken steps to ensure he wasn’t followed or seen, and he wore a hoodie to hide his face from random p
eople and cameras. Anyone who looked hard enough through the security camera system would be able to figure out where he came from, and therefore who he was, but a casual glance at the cameras wouldn’t reveal it. This was a top secret journey after all—he had just received Janice’s text that simply read “Successful.” Now, he was about to find out the details on Operation Raptor.

  He knocked on Janice’s door and waited.

  A couple seconds later, she opened it and waved him in. Closing the door behind them, she said, “Have a seat.”

  Janice sat on the recliner across the living room and took a deep breath. With one hand, she reached into her pants pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper. “Here’s what you’re looking for. I read it already. Wish I hadn’t,” she said, her voice sounding uneasy as she handed it to him.

  Mark unfolded the sheet and looked it over. A second later, he felt his jaw drop. He had to reread it to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood.

  He felt his heart beat erratically, like he was about to pass out. He didn’t want to believe that Houle would do such a thing, but Mark knew he would if pressed. He obviously felt pressed now.

  They sat in silence for a long moment, and Mark felt a cold chill run up his spine.

  His mind reeled. In his hands lay the General’s orders in black and white, direct from General Houle himself. The orders were simple: Gain control of several nuclear missiles and use them to “cleanse” the United States from the traitorous influences of New America and the remaining invaders on the Eastern Seaboard.

  Basically, a large chunk of the eastern states would soon be turned to an irradiated wasteland.

  Suddenly, an image of his estranged brother flashed through his mind—the last he heard, he was out there on the East Coast. But if anyone could survive the hell going on out there, it would be a person as deadly as his brother.

  Mark gazed at Janice—the woman who was now the only hope for millions of innocent Americans who had no idea their lives were teetering on the edge.