Survival EMP (Book 1): Solar Reboot

by Hunt, Matthew D.

  She snatched up her flannel from where she’d hung it on a fencepost, and donned it quickly to cover up the skin of her arms and shoulders. Bill scowled again, but he turned and set off without a word. After dusting themselves off, Cameron and Bettie followed.

  * * *

  By the time they reached the gatehouse, most of the other cabin owners had already gathered. Bill stood at their head, just outside the door that lead to the gatehouse itself. Everyone else—Cameron counted seven—had their hands buried in their pockets, because despite the sunshine, it was still bitterly cold.

  Too cold for March, Cameron thought. She pushed the thought away.

  “All right, that’s everyone,” said Bill. “Now. We’re gonna have to assign some jobs around here. Seeing as how I’m the one that knows what needs doing, makes the most sense for me to assign the jobs. You there. Russell, right? You got some muscle on you. Gonna need you to take guard duty. At least one shift.”

  No one answered him. Cameron looked around and saw the same look of wide-eyed confusion on all their faces that she felt herself.

  “Bill, what the hell are you talking about?” she said. She was well tired of his crap already, and he’d called Bettie and Cameron away from the garden for this?

  But Bill looked at her like she was the crazy one, and spat on the ground at his feet. “Jobs. For the cabin community. Everybody pitching in. What with the storms.”

  “What about the storms?” said Cameron, her anger rising.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Ain’t you heard, sweetheart? World’s going all to hell outside that gate. Power and everything else is down all across the country, and can’t no one get it back up. Planes can’t fly. Computers don’t work. It’s the end times.”

  She wasn’t any less angry, but Cameron laughed anyway—loud and mocking, maybe even a little forced, because she could see the fear shining in the eyes of the others who were standing there listening. “End times? You sound like some homeless guy standing on the street corner with a cardboard sign and a megaphone.”

  Bill didn’t rise to it. He only shook his head. “Don’t much matter what you say, girl. The truth’s the truth. Why’d so many of you show up here today, if you didn’t know something was wrong? Any one of you want to turn around and drive back home?”

  That was met with silence, and when Cameron looked around at the rest of them, they all seemed to be avoiding each other’s eyes. Could they really all have been driven here by fear of this…this storm, the solar flares, whatever it was?

  Isn’t that why you came here? The question ran through her mind in a blink. And as she thought about it, she realized that Bill was right, at least for her part—given the chance, she wouldn’t drive back home, either.

  With no one to answer him, Bill smiled, growing bolder. “Now, that’s what I thought. All right, so Russell—guard duty. I guess you and I can trade shifts. Anyone else want to volunteer? We should have at least three.”

  “I’ll do it,” said someone—an old guy, late sixties, maybe, wearing a Vietnam veteran’s cap. Cameron thought his name was Scott.

  “You all can’t be serious,” said Cameron. “Are you all taking this seriously? This is crazy. You live here—you pay Bill’s paycheck.”

  “Paychecks are about to become a thing of the past,” said Bill.

  “Oh. My god,” said Cameron, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Let me use the landline. I’m calling Fred, Bill. Your ass is going to be out of here by morning.”

  But Bill’s smile was triumphant. “Can’t call Fred even if I’d let you. Landlines are down. Have been all day. Told you, sweetheart—world outside’s going all to hell.”

  A pencil-necked girl stepped forward, away from her equally pencil-necked husband, and looked back and forth with uneasy eyes. “He’s right. We heard some news on our way up here. Storms are whipping out roads and some bridges all across the country. Most truckers won’t even drive them. No one’s run out of food yet, but some people think it’s going to happen soon, and they’re storming any store that still has supplies.”

  Cameron opened her mouth to speak. But suddenly she felt the smooth skin of Bettie’s fingers clamp down on her arm. She glanced back as the older woman stepped in close.

  “I’m not saying you’re wrong, Cameron,” she whispered. “But look around. This isn’t the right time to argue the point.”

  And of course, she was right. Everyone there was scared. Bill’s words had stoked the flames of those fears, and Miss Pencil-neck had sealed the deal.

  Good lord, was she actually going to have to treat these people seriously, and not just laugh at them as they tried to create some new Mad Max-style government in this middle class cabin community?

  “Aubrey’s exactly right,” Bill said. “Food’s gonna run short real soon. Some people should go out to supermarkets and stores, anywhere within driving distance, and load up on supplies.”

  “Don’t forget water,” said the pencil-necked girl—Aubrey, he’d said her name was. She smiled slightly, as though she were very proud of herself for remembering this important detail. “It’s one of the most important things you can stock up on in a disaster.”

  Cameron tried very hard not to roll her eyes, but did not succeed. “We are all on well water with solar power and generators back ups.” Snapped Cameron. “And who’s paying for these supplies, Bill? You?”

  Bill’s mouth set in a firm line—but he hedged at the last second, and for the first time he sounded doubtful. “Well, way I see it, they’re gonna be taken by whoever wants them the most. Might as well be us.”

  She took one step forward. “I want to be very clear on this one. You’re saying we should go out and steal?”

  He didn’t meet her eye. Everyone else shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Good. Because if you did, I’d throw you right over that gate on your ass, and good luck getting back in—I heard someone disabled all the clickers.” That earned a light chuckle from the others, but Cameron pressed on, ignoring it. “We’re not going to steal, and no one here is going to blow their savings accounts loading up on supplies that we don’t even know we need yet. These storms could pass tomorrow, and then we’d be a thousand dollars poorer and look like a bunch of idiots.”

  “Or it could last for a month, a year, even, and then we’d all starve,” said Bill, lifting his chin.

  Cameron pointed to the first guy Bill had spoken to. “You. Russell, right? Do you have enough food to last the rest of the week?”

  Russell shrugged. “More than that. Two weeks, maybe three if I stretch it out.”

  “Of course you do. We all do. Don’t you?” She looked around, waiting for an answer. Slowly, they all nodded. She turned back to Bill. “Because we’re not stupid, and none of us wants to drive half an hour to the nearest store every other day. So if we’ve all got enough food for almost another month, maybe chill out on panic button.”

  Relief washed through the rest of them—Cameron could feel it like a physical wave. But Bill didn’t look relieved, he just looked angry.

  “I think we’re done here. Have fun on guard duty.” She turned and walked away. Bettie hurried to follow, and after a moment she heard the shuffling of the rest of the group edging away.

  “Well, you certainly didn’t make friends with the man,” said Bettie.

  “He’s a prick. I can’t believe he called us down there for that joke of a meeting, or whatever it was supposed to be.”

  “Still, gotta admire someone who wants to be prepared. We’ll plant the fastest-growing veggies in the garden, just in case.”

  Cameron gaped at her. “You can’t tell me you’re taking him seriously.”

  Bettie shrugged. “We’re gardening anyway. Why not grow something that’ll be ready to eat quicker, on the off chance we’re still here in a month and a half?”

  No easy answer came. Cameron scowled and turned her eyes front again. “Fine.”

  “Good.” Bettie looked over
her shoulder to make sure no one was following too close, then continued in a low voice. “And by the way, I think that meeting was a lot more productive when you were talking than when Bill was. You ask me, you should be the one calling the shots.”

  Memories threatened to surface, memories linked to the tattoo on her stomach. “Not a chance,” she said firmly. “Last thing I want to do is be responsible for a bunch of scared idiots who think the world is ending.”

  “Suit yourself,” said Bettie. “I’m just letting you know my druthers.”

  Cameron didn’t answer her, but only followed her back to the cabin and the garden, and began hoeing the dirt with much more fury than it probably deserved.

  CHAPTER 9

  Alex and Piper pulled up that evening in Normal, Illinois, after a terrible day on the road. They should have gotten at least twice as far as they had, but bad weather had held up traffic on the roads. Phones still couldn’t pull up a GPS, so Alex had pored over maps trying to find an alternate route that avoided the freeways. It didn’t work. Despite the fact that most people were staying home in this weather, the storms had caused enough accidents that the highways came to a standstill anyway.

  “Wait, this place is literally called Normal?” said Piper.

  “Yep. Named after a type of school, not because it’s particularly average.” Alex took a second glance at the buildings around them as they drove. “Though, of course, it is.”

  “How did you know that? Have you been here before?”

  “No. There’s probably hundreds of towns across the U.S. named Normal, and most of them for the same reason.”

  A large Best Western sign just off the freeway drew them in, but once they got close they saw the NO VACANCY sign glowing cheerily. Looking around the hotel’s parking lot, Alex saw a bunch of people—some families, even—curled up in their seats, cars on and heaters blasting, ready to sleep through the night.

  “Don’t tell me we have to sleep in the car,” Piper groaned.

  “Waste too much gas,” said Alex. “Might drain the battery, too. Come on. We’ll look for another place.”

  They soon found what was almost a physical border—once they were out of sight of the freeway, things quickly took a turn for the boondocks. Houses became ramshackle, with spotted paint and rotting boards, and more than a few windows covered with bars. Alarm bells went off in Alex’s mind, and he was just about to turn around when he spotted a sign up ahead that proclaimed, quite simply, “INN.” He drove toward it, jaw clenched and hands ready to turn them around at a moment’s notice.

  The hotel was to the Best Western what the houses were to the homes closer to the freeway—ill-kept, dilapidated and looking like it might collapse under the fury of the storm. But a light burned in the front office, and the VACANCY sign shone bright. The parking lot was mostly full, but had plenty of spaces for them to pull in.

  “Can I wait in the car?” said Piper.

  Alex looked around at the place, and at the fading daylight in the sky overhead. “I’d rather you came in with me.”

  She gave him a nasty look, but obeyed without voicing any complaint. Inside they found caretakers whose appearance matched that of the hotel. The man had a few days’ stubble and wore faded overalls atop a dirty flannel shirt, while the woman’s gaudy flower-print dress barely contained her massive frame. She sat back on a stool, observing Alex and chewing something, while her husband stepped up to the counter. In his mind, Alex gave them the names of Doctor and Missus Hillbilly.

  “Staying the night?” said Doctor.

  “If you’ve got room.”

  “Got room,” said Doctor. “Ain’t take no credit cards, though.”

  “That’s fine,” said Alex, reaching for his wallet. “What’s the charge?”

  Doc folded his arms and leaned on the counter. “Well, normally it’d be fifty. But seein’ as the Best Western’s all full up, from what I hear, and what with them charging sixty-five, I think we gots to raise our prices to match. So it’s sixty-five, and I hope you ain’t hold that against me.” Behind Doc, Missus leered.

  Alex blinked. It was unusual to have someone scam you while being so…honest about it. But then he thought back to the New York hotel for $150 a night. “No problem at all. Business must be rough right now.”

  “It ain’t business, it’s the people,” said Doc, shaking his head. “Acting like we never get storms around here. ‘Course it’s unseasonal, but ain’t no call to go plumb crazy about it like y’all have been. Not meanin’ you, o’course, but out of towners.”

  Piper had started to drift away, eyeing one of the chairs across the room. Alex reached out a hand and pulled her gently back. “Has it been bad here?”

  Doc shrugged. “Ain’t been good. Hear the cities got it worse. It’ll all blow over, but ‘till it does, everybody’s lookin’ out for them and theirs.”

  Alex handed him a hundred, and Doctor gave him a key along with the change. It was a metal key, old school, with a bit wooden tag hanging off the ring: 110.

  “Checkout’s at ten,” said Doctor.

  “We’ll be leaving before then.”

  “One of us’ll be around. Take care.”

  Alex led Piper outside, where they both threw up their hoods against the still-heavy rain. After the last town, Alex had thrown together two overnight bags for each of them, so they didn’t need to unload anything else from the car. They settled into their beds, drawing the blinds against the darkness outside, and soon Piper fell asleep. Alex lay awake for quite a while before he could do the same, staring at the phone in his hand and waiting for signal bars that never came.

  * * *

  The sound of shattering glass woke him. He shot up in his bed, eyes wide as they roved the room. But Piper slept peacefully, and there was no one else there. His mind raced, processing the sounds that had woken him after the fact.

  Outside.

  He leapt up and ran to the window, pulling the curtains just apart to peer out through the blinds. Clouds still hid the moon in the sky, but the parking lot had one dismal yellow bulb to cast light. He squinted, trying to hasten his eyes as they adjusted.

  There. Two figures. Standing by a car near the road, but moving down the line toward him.

  They were robbing the cars. Two more, and they’d reach his.

  He threw his boots on, fingers racing to tie them, then shrugged on his parka and zipped it up. The dark green would hide him fairly well in the darkness, but he didn’t want to hide. He whispered a prayer that they didn’t have any guns. He’d been half tempted to get his own firearm in the Walmart the day before, but hadn’t wanted to do it with Piper right there. Now he cursed himself for being a fool.

  He threw open the door and stepped out into the rain.

  The thieves had reached the car next to his. Alex tried to make for the lamplight. If they did have guns, the last thing he wanted was to startle them. When he was a good few yards away and couldn’t be any more brightly lit than he was, he raised his hands.

  “Hey there,” he said.

  Both the thieves jumped and whirled to him. They wore black waterproof parkas over baseball caps, and with the parking lot light behind them, he couldn’t make out their faces. But by the shapes of their bodies, he guessed two men, young, or at least skinny.

  “Hey now,” said Alex, spreading his hands to emphasize they were empty. “I don’t want any trouble.”

  “Then get out of here,” snarled one of the thieves—the closer one. He held a crowbar, but Alex didn’t see another weapon. That was a good sign.

  “Thing is, you’re about to rob my car,” said Alex. “And I can’t let you do that. You’ve probably already got some good stuff from the other cars. Why don’t you get on out of here, and we all get away happy?”

  “Good stuff?” scoffed the thief. “One wallet with thirty bucks in it. What’s the big deal with your car? Got something good in there?” He stepped forward, raising the crowbar so Alex couldn’t miss it.

  �
��Whoah, relax there, buddy,” said Alex. “No need for a fight.”

  “Clock him, Mitch,” said the other thief. He was at Alex’s rear bumper now, holding a dull flashlight he was trying to shine in Alex’s eyes. The heavy rain kept it from being blinding. “We’ll see what he’s got in a moment.”

  Mitch stepped forward, but his movement was slow, uncertain. Alex sprang. He grabbed the crowbar and twisted, his other hand punching Mitch in the throat. The kid fell back, coughing and wheezing, losing his grip on the crowbar. Alex turned to the other thief—but the kid had whipped out a knife. No little switchblade, either. It was at least six inches long and black, possibly military grade. Either the second thief was just big into the military, or he was a veteran; the calm look in his eye and the easy way his feet slid into a fighting stance told Alex it was the latter. His whole body tensed, ready for the thief to spring.

  A gunshot ripped through the air, making them both jump. Without turning his back, Alex glanced over his shoulder. There was Doctor Hillbilly, a 12-gauge pointing at the sky.

  “Get the fuck out of here, you goddamn degenerates,” roared the good Doctor.

  The second thief took off without a word. Mitch scrambled up from the asphalt and ran to follow him, crowbar forgotten.

  Alex felt his adrenaline leave him in a rush, and his shoulders sagged. He turned to Doc, letting the crowbar slip from his limp fingers. “Thanks,” he said.

  “Told you. These lowlifes have decided it’s every man for himself. You all right?”

  “Fine. No chance to fight before you showed up.” Alex gave the Doctor a weak smile. “Hey, I never caught your name.”

  “Heath. Wife’s Marge. You?”

  “Alex. My girl’s Piper. The one I came in with.”

  “Sure, sure. Well, sorry this happened. Didn’t get your car, did they?” Heath tucked the shotgun under his elbow and reached into his pocket for a cigarette, lighting it under the cover of his hand.