Hostile Grounds: An EMP Survival Story (EMP Crash Book 5)

by Kip Nelson

  As Bob walked through the settlement, he could hear the worried tones of people around him. Many of them wondered if Mack's plan would work, but even if it did they still were concerned about the future. Many of them realized it was practically a matter of chance they had succeeded thus far while some of their friends already had fallen, and none of them knew how many chances the whims of fate would grant them. Bob didn't much enjoy hearing this talk. He was always a man who rather would deal with the problem than gnashing his teeth over it, but he recognized that sometimes people needed to complain and vent their frustrations. However, he was well aware that, in this current state, there was no way they could survive another attack.

  The people of the community were lethargic; their movements were slow and their bodies were weak due to the stress. It was as though they had been thrust into a war without any kind of training or forewarning. In his heart, Bob, too, hoped Mack's plan would work for the sake of everyone in the community.

  Eventually, he came to a group of people who were clearing out a lot of the debris, and Bob was surprised to see Saul was still at it. He had been there all day, and Bob was mightily impressed that the big man showed no signs of fatigue. He was perhaps the one member of Mack's group Bob hadn't gotten to know properly. He seemed to be the type of man who kept himself to himself, and that was just fine with Bob. He walked up to him and overheard Saul chatting with some people expressing their concerns about the future.

  “I know it's scary right now, but Mack has everything under control. I know to you he's just some guy who has a good tactical brain, but he's more than that. He saved my life, more than once, probably. But when we first met, I thought I was done for. I had been thrown into a river. I was ready to give up. Then I felt these arms around me, dragging me back to shore, and then I was alive again. For the longest time, I didn't know why he saved me, why he would put himself in such danger just for my sake. I even felt a little guilty, especially after what happened later when we were captured by my brother. But I never have seen Mack waver. He's always made the right choice, the choice that's best for everyone, and he's never shied away from putting himself in the way. I've always been happy with my own company, but I can't speak highly enough of him. If he were here, he wouldn't believe I was telling you guys this because we've had our arguments in the past. So, keep it to yourself,” he said with a wry smile that brought a chuckle from his audience.

  Bob was glad to hear the sound of laughter. It had been a long time since he last had heard it. The crowd broke away and Bob caught Saul's attention. Saul walked over to him. His bare chest was glistening with sweat and his calloused hands stroked his beard.

  “What can I do for you, Bob?” he asked as he bent down and picked up a huge chunk of concrete, placing it in a pile with all the others. Bob watched with interest.

  “Not much, I'm just checking out things. Surprised to see you still standing. You've been at this all day.”

  “Yeah, well, you know what they say, ‘No rest for the wicked’.”

  “So, that's why it's so hard to sleep nowadays. Seriously though, are you okay? You are allowed to take a rest. If we are attacked again, we're going to need everyone at their sharpest.”

  “Oh yeah, I'm fine,” Saul said, drawing his forearm across his head to wipe the sweat away.

  “Sad truth is that I'm used to this kind of thing. Working with my hands was all I knew, but it's good to actually feel like I'm working for a good cause. It sounds stupid, but I've never really done anything like it before. I didn't know how good it could feel.”

  “I don't know what we're going to do with all this stuff, though,” Bob said with a concerned tone in his voice.

  “I figured we could add it to the barrier to give us that extra level of protection, or we could build a forge so we can reshape all the metal we don't need into weapons. They aren't going to be pretty, but they'll do the job.”

  “That's a good idea,” Bob said, and Saul smiled at the praise. “Well, I'll leave you to it...” he said, although before he left he paused, and then asked, “Did you mean what you said then about Mack, or were you just saying it to lift those people's spirits?”

  “I meant every word. He'll come back, you'll see,” Saul said, and as he looked into his eyes Bob believed him.

  Hank and Freddie were in the infirmary, talking with the patients and trying to keep their spirits up. They had managed to stabilize the worst cases, and after a long night and day they finally were able to rest. Freddie was looking the most haggard out of all of them, and basically was falling asleep in his chair. Hank was standing with his hands clasped behind his back, in somewhat good spirits considering all that had happened.

  When Luis commented on his good mood, Hank chuckled softly and replied, “I know, it may seem strange, but I would rather look at all the things God has blessed us with rather than what He has taken away. There are still many people who survived the attack, and Mack is out there with the opportunity to finish things. The community has been brought closer together and the more strife we can survive the more we can appreciate every day. The fact that this settlement still stands is a matter for celebration, and I think that's going to be the theme of my next sermon.”

  When he mentioned the sermon, Luis looked concerned. “What's wrong?” Hank asked. At first, Luis was reluctant to say, but after Hank urged him, he pushed himself up, wincing as he did so, and spoke what was on his mind.

  “I just don't see how you still can believe in a world like this. I mean, I'm not trying to be disrespectful or anything, but all the horrors of the world...does it not give you doubt?”

  To Luis' surprise Hank answered in the affirmative. “Of course it does. I do wonder how God can put His children through all of this suffering, but I must trust in His infinite wisdom. I see it as an opportunity for us to rediscover our core values and find ourselves. I must try to stay true to myself and trust in His way. I've been following that for a good few years now, and it's served me well. The other thing to remember is that He did give us free will, and I think we create the world in which we want to live. Hopefully, we can create a better one than the one that went before,” he said. At this point, Freddie snored softly, breaking up the discussion. Both Luis and Hank laughed.

  “Can't blame him for resting, though. He deserves it after everything he did last night. I saw him in here working like a madman, him and Mindy, and all the others. They didn't stop. They were covered in blood, the screams of the patients were deafening, but they weren't daunted or scared, they just did what they had to do.”

  “He's a good man. He's really come into his own since we've been here. I think it's better for all of us to have a place we can call home. It makes things feel more settled.”

  “Hmm, and speaking of that, you seem to have been getting rather settled with Mindy,” Luis said with a playful smile. Hank blushed and looked away.

  “She is a great asset to the community...”

  “Yeah, she's got a great asset alright. It's okay, preacher, there's no shame in it. We're all human, and one thing I've learned is you've gotta take the happiness when it comes to you. Life is too short to do anything else.”

  “You're probably right. Speaking of someone who is looking for happiness,” Hank said, turning his attention to Tristan, who entered the ward with a worried look on his face.

  His eyes searched the room and he seemed distracted as he made his way to the three men. Hank and Luis had been talking quietly, allowing Freddie to sleep, but Tristan didn't notice that Freddie was asleep. He rushed up to them and, in a panicked tone, asked if any of them had seen Sharon. It was clear he was concerned and Hank had to put a hand on his shoulder to try reassuring him.

  “No, she hasn't been this way. Is everything alright?” the preacher asked. Tristan closed his eyes and exhaled deeply.

  “I don't know, I just can't find her anywhere. I'm sure she's around somewhere, though,” he said, and excused himself as he moved off.

  F
reddie awoke and wiped some drool from his mouth as the men shared a smile at the way Tristan was acting, each of them having experienced exactly the same feelings when they were his age. Freddie added that he probably was worried about his mom as well, and the smiles fell from their faces.

  Tristan left the infirmary with a knotted brow. He had looked almost everywhere in the settlement, but still there was no sign of Sharon. He was worried, not only for her safety, but also because his mom may have been right. He didn't want to believe that everything Sharon said had been a lie, and tried telling himself he just was being stupid. She probably just was exploring. She always had been a curious person, and she most likely wanted to get to know her new surroundings, but after having been so close with her, being apart felt as though he was missing a part of himself.

  All Tristan wanted was to be by her side every minute of every day, to hold her close to him and breathe in the scent of her hair, to taste the sweet nectar of her kiss, and to fall in love every time he looked at her, for he was sure he was in love. He knew that his mom and the other adults looked at him with amusement, but they didn't know the power of the feelings within his heart. They didn't know what he had lived through, and how he had become a man long before his time. He knew with absolute certainty that he loved Sharon, and the only thing he wanted in this life was to keep her safe.

  Eventually, he saw her by one of the barriers. He walked up to her, puzzled as to why she was there. He was about to call out to her as he neared when he saw what she was doing; opening the barrier to let someone else in. Fear seized his heart as he quickened his pace toward her.

  “Sharon, what are you doing?” he called out.

  She turned to stare at him and he didn't see a trace of recognition in her eyes. He stopped, speechless, and his face went white as Peter emerged through the hole. He smirked as he saw Tristan standing there and stretched out his body.

  “Oh, look, it's the boy who got away. Bet you didn't think you'd see me again, did you?” Peter said, sneering at Tristan.

  Peter then wrapped his arms around Sharon and kissed her deeply, and she kissed him back. Nausea rose within Tristan as his heart broke. Tears stung his eyes as he saw the truth and realized he had been played. In that moment, he hated himself, hated them, and hated his mother for being right. All he wanted to do was smash open the world with his fists, but before he could do anything, Peter broke off the kiss and walked up to Tristan, then punched him in the jaw, sending him to the ground. Once he had fallen, Peter kicked him in the stomach and Tristan doubled up, clenching his stomach. Peter spat at him.

  “That's what you get for leaving us,” he said.

  “Was there any need for that?” Sharon asked as she came up beside Peter and draped her arms around his shoulders, kissing him on the cheek. Tristan could see them through his blurred vision, and the pain in his heart was far more devastating than his physical pain.

  “I won't tolerate betrayal,” Peter said stonily.

  Tristan heard them move off, and as he writhed on the ground, he could see the rest of the Lost Children swarming through the opening. He groaned in pain and wished he had enough strength to get somebody's attention, but all he could do was lie on the ground and whimper helplessly. In the distance, he could hear the chaos that ensued, and he knew that it would not be long before Peter was in complete control, and it was all his fault.

  Chapter Thirty

  The words of his enemy lingered in Mack's ears. A fight to the death. He stared at the brutish man standing opposite him, waiting expectantly for an answer. Mack knew there was only one he could give. For the sake of the others in the settlement he had to accept, and had to hope he won because he didn't dare wonder about the terms this man would dictate to Mack's people if he emerged victorious.

  “I accept your offer,” Mack said, speaking loud and clear so everyone could hear.

  The enemy smiled wickedly. A few moments later they heard a door swing open and Grace ran out, calling for Mack to change his mind. The enemy smirked.

  “I see you weren't stupid enough to come alone,” he said. Mack glared at him then turned to face Grace. The others didn't see any point in hiding, so they revealed themselves as well and stood in the doorway, their guns trained on the enemy force that was standing before them.

  “This is the best way to prevent the loss of lives, and this is the way it has to be,” he told Grace in a low voice, so low that nobody else could hear.

  “But whatever happens, you can't let them win. Even if I fall, you must make sure they don't make it out of here alive. You take out as many as you possibly can, and then get back to the settlement. Make sure it stays standing. You'll have to take over, Grace, you and the others. You can do it. I believe in you. I trust you, and you must trust me now. This is the way it has to be.” Grace's heart was in her throat as Mack turned away from her and strode back out to stand before the enemy.

  “I think we should establish a few ground rules. No weapons, just fists. No help from anyone else. It's just you and me. The best man wins.”

  “I accept your terms,” he said, and handed his bat and gun over to one of his minions.

  Mack relieved himself of his weapons as well and stretched out his muscles. His eyes passed over those who had accompanied him on his journey and he smiled at each of them in turn, thanking them with his eyes. Then he turned, and the fight began.

  At first it was a cagey affair. It had been a long time since Mack had been in this type of fight with someone and he tried keeping his distance to take stock of his opponent. The enemy was tall and had a long reach. His entire body was sinewy and packed with muscle. He jabbed out at Mack, but Mack kept his head low and his body tight, using his speed to duck away from the punches.

  The leader's crowd grew restless, and started to boo and chant. This radiated through to his enemy as well, but Mack blocked it out. He blocked it all out, and focused on him and his opponent, looking for any sign of weakness. He knew that in a straight match of strength the other man would win, so Mack had to be clever and observant; he had to identify his opponent's weaknesses then use them against him. As long as he could survive long enough, he fancied his chances, as every man had a weakness.

  The two men circled each other like animals. Mack felt the adrenalin pumping through his system, but he kept his breathing steady and remained in control. His opponent's eyes were wide and frantic, his movements were sloppy, and he kept flinging his arms wildly in Mack's direction. Mack was able to dodge the wild swings. However, because of the other man's reach, Mack was reluctant to get in close, so he didn't manage to land any punches either. What he did notice was the enemy favored his right foot. He used this knowledge to stay in a position that was on the opposite side, trying to make sure the other man stayed off-balance. He bided his time until eventually he saw an opening. He rushed in and jabbed at the man's stomach, then brought his left fist up to meet the man's chin. His head snapped back, but it only served to enrage Mack's opponent, who then wrapped his arms around Mack's neck, the grip growing ever tighter. Mack clawed at his arms but there was no joy there. He twisted his head in an effort to draw a breath. Then Mack kicked out and his boots connected with the other man's kneecaps. The man cried out in pain and Mack was able to wrestle away, although as he did so he caught a sharp blow to the back of the head, which made him stagger forward.

  Fueled with a new rage and sensing that the battle truly had begun, the leader of the other faction lunged forward and tried grabbing Mack again, but this time Mack was too quick for him. He evaded the blow and used the other man's momentum against him, sending him flying over his shoulder, crashing to the ground. Mack stood up and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the ringing in his ears. The other man rose to his feet quicker than he expected, though, and stalked toward Mack. Before he knew it, Mack's head was subjected to rapid punches and, in the background, he heard the rising cheer of the other man’s group. He could taste blood in his mouth, and everything was going haz
y in his head, but through it all he heard one voice above all others, and for a moment he swore that it was Anna, but that was impossible.

  Using a surge of energy, he blocked the next blow and moved around the other man, jabbing him in the side with both his fists. The other man swung his arm around, hoping to smash Mack with his forearm, but Mack noted the move from earlier, and this time he was able to duck down. He brought his foot crashing down at the back of the other man’s knee. He noticed a scar there that looked very much like it had come from an operation, so Mack assumed that knee would be weaker and an ideal point of attack. The other man howled in pain as he clutched his knee. Mack jumped off the ground and did a high kick into the other man's face, rattling his jaw. He looked groggy now, but he had stamina, and he was still strong.

  The anger of a lifetime rose up inside him and he staggered toward Mack with hatred in his eyes. Mack stepped back slowly, before he rushed in and smashed his elbow into the man's neck, sending him to the ground. Mack just was coming around for another flurry of blows when the other man scraped up some dust with his fingers and threw it at Mack's face. The grit blinded him and gave the other man an opportunity to rain down blows on Mack's head and back, sending him to the ground.

  Mack was blinking heavily, trying to get the dirt out of his eyes, all the while trying to ignore the quakes that were being sent through his body by the man’s mighty blows. Yet he also could hear the other man's wheezing, and was able to tell when he was drawing back for a punch. Mack used one of these openings to launch himself forward and head-butt the man in the chest, sending him reeling backward. Mack quickly rubbed his eyes so he could see again, just in time as the enemy was racing toward him again. Mack swept his foot down and tripped up the man, sending him face-first to the ground with an almighty crash.