EMP Lodge Series (Book 1): Dark Retreat

by Grace Hamilton

  She stood up, stared at the door for a moment before taking several steps back. Megan ran for the door, turned at the last second and threw her entire body against it. The door swung open with a huge crack toppling Megan to the hardwood floor.

  It took her a moment to recover and realize she had actually broken through. Whooping with glee, her first thought was to get to Caitlin, but an inner voice stopped her. She needed to make sure no one was inside waiting to attack the intruder that had just busted down the door.

  Megan shouted, “Hello? Hello, is there anyone here? I need help!” She was prepared to use the poor, struggling woman card with a sick child in tow. She didn’t look threatening and most people would never assume a woman, alone and unarmed could do any harm.

  Let them believe that, she smiled.

  When no one answered, Megan darted around the bottom floor, which held the kitchen, dining room, a bathroom and two bedrooms. She didn’t want to leave Caitlin outside a second longer and decided to check out the upstairs once she had her daughter tucked into one of the beds.

  Megan ran back to where she had left Caitlin. The little girl hadn’t moved, which scared her more than when the EMP struck and the world stopped moving and went pitch black. That was scary. This was terrifying. Megan thought back to those first few days as she knelt down next to her daughter.

  She had never heard of an EMP and had no idea it could actually happen. With communication systems down, it wasn’t as if she could flip on the news to find out what had happened. Word spread via the few folks that had HAM radios. They were able to talk with other people around the country and some had access to what was left of the government. Apparently, there had been massive solar flares. Megan knew they were relatively common, but the ones that sent their world into the dark ages were big.

  A day before the darkness consumed the world; there had been some warnings about solar flares. Megan only knew about the warnings because she had gone to the store to pick up bread and milk and the shelves were empty. One of the employees had joked about how the doomsday people had sparked a panic and there had been a mad rush on basic staples. They were all preparing for the solar flares that were going to result in the apocalypse

  Megan had laughed with the clerk. She wasn’t laughing now. No one was. Those crazy doomsday people had been smart to prepare for the impending disaster. No one could have predicted how severe it would be or the consequences of such an event.

  She scooped up her little girl before staggering to her feet, assuring her that everything would be okay. Megan took one last look around before she went back through the broken door. Walking to the closest bedroom that was off to the right of the kitchen, she gently laid Caitlin on the bed. Giving the room a cursory look, she was surprised at how plain it was. While it was obvious to her that a man used this room, it lacked anything personal to identify the owner. Megan wondered if that was intentional or if the owner simply didn’t spend much time here. She really hoped that the answer was the latter and they would both be long gone before the owners did show up.

  Dropping her pack on the floor next to the bed, she kicked it under so only a strap was exposed. If someone came in, she didn’t want them taking the few supplies she did have. She also didn’t want to look prepared or as if, she had purposely come here.

  “I’ll be right back,” she whispered and quickly ran back to the broken door. She closed it and pushed a chair in front of the door to secure it. Obviously if someone wanted to come in, it wouldn’t take much, but that was all she could do for now.

  Rushing to the bathroom next to the bedroom, she opened the medicine cabinet. There was a bottle of ibuprofen with a couple of tablets, toothpaste and a bottle of eye drops. She was hoping to find prescription antibiotics. Did anyone ever finish all their antibiotics like they were supposed to? Apparently, people in this house did!

  Megan sighed, “Please, there has to be something!” She rifled through the bathroom and came up empty handed. She didn’t even know what she was looking for. Her only idea was that Caitlin had come down with some kind of flu or bacterial infection and needed antibiotics.

  What kind, she didn’t know and didn’t care. She needed to feel like she was doing something. A long time ago, some old war vet had told her the antibiotics you bought for a fish tank were good for people too. Back then, she thought the dude was a little crazy. He had been a bit of a hoarder and an eccentric. He was always telling her she needed to stockpile food and medicine. She hadn’t listened and she was regretting it now. Unfortunately, she didn’t see any fish tanks in the cabin so it was doubtful there would be any fish meds.

  Slamming shut the cupboard under the sink; she went to the kitchen and started opening cupboards and drawers. She was looking for food as well as any kind of basic first aid supplies. At her own house, she had a small cupboard above the fridge that was filled with a variety of medicines. She kept the stuff they used most right on top of the fridge in a small basket. That wasn’t the case here. In fact, there was absolutely nothing that would be useful.

  A few bulging cans of food that were clearly spoiled were all that remained, which if Megan remembered her general science class from high school meant that it had been at least a year since anyone had been there maybe more depending on what was in the cans. Continuing her look through the cabinets, she found a few jars of spices and more jars filled with what looked like dried flowers, all of which left her feeling deflated. Anything of use had already been taken.

  Working her way around the first floor, she opened the door opposite the bathroom to enter the other bedroom. The window had been boarded up, which made it difficult to see in the darkened interior. She rifled around, but found nothing that was of any use.

  Walking back to the center of the large kitchen with her hands on her hips, defeat threatened to pull her into despair.

  “No,” she stated firmly into the air as if talking to whatever force was making her daughter ill. “You won’t win. I will fix her.”

  Megan took a moment to appreciate the huge kitchen that boasted more cupboards than she could have ever filled. The kitchen was very modern with light gray granite counters with the dark wood cupboards a stark contrast. She admired the dark, real hardwood floors that covered the entire first floor of the home.

  A large center island had four bar stools on one side. She closed her eyes and envisioned herself living here cooking a meal in the kitchen while her daughter sat on one of those stools drawing pictures. It was so homey even if it was empty of anything personal indicating who the owners were; it made Megan long for her past life. She also realized it was very clean. There wasn’t any dust. That was a little odd and gave her a sliver of awareness that the place wasn’t abandoned after all.

  Opening her eyes, she was drawn to the beautiful staircase directly in front of her beckoning her to explore upstairs. The ornate railing looked to be hand carved with various swirling designs. Wide and elegant, the grand staircase reminded her of a scene from one of her favorite movies, “Gone with the Wind.” Megan envisioned Scarlett O’Hara coming down those stairs, determined and confident. She admired the character’s strength and perseverance. She would persevere as well.

  Megan climbed the stairs, running her hand along the smooth banister and relishing in the sleek feel of the highly polished wood. She was met by a stunning scene before her. A huge brick fireplace filled the loft area with two brown, leather couches positioned parallel and facing each other. A fluffy beige rug was between them with a dark wood rectangular table in the center.

  The second floor was U-shaped, with the loft area opening out over the first floor. Megan realized this was why the kitchen area had felt so big and airy.

  The bank of windows in front of her revealed one of the most beautiful sunsets she had ever seen. The view allowed her to see for miles. It wasn’t only spectacular; it proved to be a very good vantage point to see anyone coming.

  A glass chandelier with what looked like a hundred lights hun
g from the high, peaked ceiling, giving the room a majestic feel. Megan sighed, if only there were electricity to light that thing up. Several bookshelves along the opposite wall of the fireplace were filled with books and board games giving it a family feel. A small table and two chairs were positioned in front of the massive windows, which drew her attention. There was a puzzle spread out over the table. Someone had been working on it.

  Recently?

  Alarm bells went off inside her head and her heart started to race. It seemed more obvious than ever that someone was definitely taking refuge here. She had to hurry. Darting into an open door on the right, she found another bedroom. She quickly pulled open drawers and searched the adjoining bathroom. A woman had clearly been here based on the bottled skin products she’d found and there had been a few clothes in the drawers, but not enough to indicate someone lived here full time.

  Opposite the staircase was a door, which led to another bedroom. This must be the master, she thought to herself, as she took in the king-size bed and huge adjoining bathroom complete with a massive tub. The edge of the tub had an assortment of soaps and hair products. Oh, to sink in that tub and forget about the world for a few hours, she thought to herself.

  This time she found what appeared to be some kind of prescription painkiller in the medicine cabinet but the label was torn where the name had been making Megan wonder if that was intentional. Finding a half-empty box of Band-Aids, Megan grabbed both, even though she certainly wasn’t going to give the pain medicine to her daughter, yet. Caitlin didn’t seem to be in pain, but good medicine was hard to find so she would hold onto it. Maybe she could trade it for antibiotics.

  With the collapse of the banks, money was about as much good as newspaper. She had managed to barter for food with things like half full bottles of liquor, some of Caitlin’s crayons and books. Given how many people had gone digital over the years, people were willing to barter for some of the most basic things and she was more than willing to part with them to get the food they needed to survive. Bartering was tricky business. People who had what you wanted determined what the value was. It could be a pair of shoes or a roll of toilet paper. You just never knew.

  She ran back down the stairs and into the bedroom where Caitlin lay. Her daughter looked so peaceful. Megan realized her little girl had some scratches on her arms. Going back to the kitchen, she grabbed a towel. Out of habit, she tried the faucet. Dry, of course. Megan had a bottle of water in her pack, but wanted to conserve that for drinking.

  Quickly giving the kitchen area a more thorough inspection, she found several two-liter soda bottles filled with water under the sink. It probably wasn’t safe to drink, but she could use it to dampen the towel. Megan grabbed one of the bowls she had found in the cupboard and poured some water into it.

  Carrying everything back to the room, she gently sponged her daughter’s forehead. The fever was low, but it was there. It was probably a result of the dehydration. Her daughter had vomited several times yesterday and had been unable to hold anything down.

  Megan continued to wipe gently down Caitlin’s arms. She put bandages on the deepest cuts more out of habit than actual necessity. Once she was finished, she covered her with the light blanket that had been neatly folded at the foot of the bed. She didn’t want to spike her fever inadvertently by trying to keep her too warm. It was a mistake she had made more than once already and had learned her lesson.

  Megan quickly wiped away the blood on her own arms, wincing as the numerous cuts and scratches were pulled. Finger combing her thick black hair, she watched as pine needles and leaves dropped harmlessly to the floor. With her daughter tucked away, the adrenaline that had pushed her to keep going was fading fast.

  Megan’s legs felt like jelly and her arms were so weak, the bowl of water was too heavy to lift. She set it down on the bedside table and reached for her pack. Pulling out the bottle of water, she took a long drink. She used her fingers to dab some on Caitlin’s lips. Pouring the water down her throat would only result in her choking.

  Exhaustion was setting in fast. Most of the day yesterday had been spent caring for her daughter. Caitlin had complained of being thirsty no matter how much she drank. It wasn’t long before she was vomiting and complaining of a stomachache. Megan had chalked it up to a tummy bug. They hadn’t been eating exactly healthy and sleeping outside on cold nights probably didn’t help.

  Throughout the night, Caitlin progressively got worse. She kept talking to her dad, who was not in the room. She was convinced she was watching television and giggled at her favorite shows. They hadn’t been able to watch TV in three months. Megan knew her baby was delirious, but had no idea how to help her.

  The guilt Megan felt for dragging her daughter into the forest in the first place was overwhelming. When the group of men who had referred to themselves as “The New Order” had invaded their small town, Megan refused to join. She wanted nothing to do with hurting others, stealing and God knew what else those people were doing.

  Some of the few survivors in the area had agreed to follow the rules. The men didn’t only take food and water as payment for the so-called protection and security they offered. They were taking people. Any young man capable of fighting was turned into expendable soldiers and several teenage girls had disappeared. While Megan had assumed they were being raped and abused, no one was talking but the screams and cries in the night were enough to set her imagination into overdrive.

  The sad thing was they thought they were doing something good. They actually thought they were following some new, magnanimous leader who would take care of them. From what she’d been told by others, this new leader was nothing short of charismatic but Megan wasn’t interested in lies and deception. They were all alike. It was like watching sheep led to the slaughter. She didn’t trust anyone and certainly not some faceless person who had minions doing all his dirty work. Megan’s instinct and general distrust had kept her from joining.

  Megan was not about to stick around to see what would happen and she decided to get out while they could and they’d been on the move ever since taking refuge in abandoned homes, barns and even under the cold night sky. Running for almost a week now, in the last day, Caitlin had grown extremely weary and lethargic, which meant Megan had to carry her. Now, she could feel the day’s physical and mental strain weighing her down.

  She was going to lie down and rest with Caitlin for a few minutes so she could think straight and give her over-tired muscles a chance to relax; something she’d been unable to do for several days. She would close her eyes for a bit and then figure out what to do next.

  Megan crawled onto the bed and pulled her daughter in close. “I love you, baby. I promise I will help you get better. You just rest for now. Mommy’s here,” she whispered.

  Given the lateness of the day, even if the cabin wasn’t abandoned, Megan didn’t think anyone would show up after dark. Without foot trails, it would be near impossible to make the trek through the forest without daylight. She only needed one night and hopefully, Caitlin would start showing signs of getting better tomorrow. In the meantime, the bed really was comfortable and it had been too long since they had a dry place to sleep. What could one night hurt?

  3

  Wyatt Morris crept into the house with his Glock 17 leading the way. When they’d arrived at the cabin, they’d found the back door had been busted in, putting his senses on high alert at the thought of someone inside. He gestured to his younger brother, Jack, to stay quiet.

  They were expecting looters at some point and that time was apparently now. Long before the EMP, Wyatt and his father had done their best to make the house look empty and abandoned, hoping to deter any squatters who found their way to the cabin. They had worked too long and too hard to build this place up to make it into the safe retreat his family needed. He was not going to let anyone take it from his family. Especially not now.

  The cabin and all of the preps that were concealed in and around it were a labor of love for
him and his father. This was the place they were all going to live out their days when the shit hit the fan. Unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned and now they were forced to improvise without his dad.

  Jack grabbed his wife’s arm. “Take Ryland and hide,” he told her quietly.

  Willow nodded and used her eyes to direct her twelve-year-old son to follow her. Wyatt and Jack’s mom, Rosie, heard her son and quietly followed them into the thick trees that surrounded the lodge.

  Wyatt had created a blind beyond the backyard as a designated area for them to hide should intruders show up. He had hung a large burlap cover with a camouflage print between two trees creating a small space between the rocky hillside and the house. Over time, small bushes had grown in front of it further masking the safe zone. When you stood at the back door and looked straight ahead, it looked like part of the hillside and trees.

  The blind allowed them to stay out of sight should potential looters arrive in numbers greater than their own. While now more than ever, having enough was a matter of survival, it wasn’t worth losing another family member. Wyatt had tried to make it look like the place had already been looted by tossing more trash around and littering the area with broken glass to sell the story.

  Behind the boards, the windows were intact. He only wanted the cabin to appear looted and abandoned. If someone did get in, they wouldn’t find anything; everything was carefully concealed. Once the would-be bandits realized there was nothing there, they would leave and the family could go back to whatever it was they had been doing. That had been the plan, anyway, Wyatt thought to himself.

  Wyatt designated himself as the one to enter the cabin, with his younger brother standing guard outside. The door had something blocking it. Not a problem considering Wyatt had the keys to the front door. It seemed silly to carry around keys nowadays, but it was a habit and a locked door could be enough deterrent to keep some of the less aggressive looters out.