Zero Hour: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction Series (The Blackout Series Book 2)

by Bobby Akart

  After seven to ten days without food, the average person would become virtually incapacitated. While some studies have shown the body might survive up to twenty-one days without sustenance, that period was lessened considerably due to dehydration. In third world nations, where electricity and nutritional supplements were scarce, the number one cause of death was a protein-energy malnutrition characterized by edema, a distended belly, and irritability.

  Colton continued. “The military is stepping up its efforts to confiscate supplies and weapons. They’ll be banging on our front door soon. Compare the way we look to those folks down on the street. Our clothes are clean and we appear to be well fed. If we have to open up our cupboards and pretend we’re starvin’, they ain’t gonna buy it.”

  “So what are we supposed to do, starve ourselves?” asked Madison.

  “No, but we need to rough up our appearance a little bit,” replied Colton. “I’m afraid we’re standing out too much.”

  “Fine, but what does this have to do with Wren?” asked Madison.

  “Nothing, exactly, but just our overall situation,” replied Colton. “We’re threatened by the fires and the National Guard. Now there’s this new gang of looters to the north, who are systematically moving through the neighborhood towards us.”

  Madison squirmed on the hard brick pavers. The subject matter also made her uncomfortable. Colton didn’t want to scare his wife, but she needed to understand why he felt compelled to join forces with Wren and the neighbors.

  Initially, Colton felt a lone-wolf strategy was the best approach to surviving. They had more food and supplies than others. The bulk of the unrest was still in the city, although it was now getting closer based on the increasing number of residents opting for the nearby FEMA camps.

  However, the wheels seemed to be falling off the wagon of their community, and the go-it-alone approach might lead to a certain death. Banding together with the neighbors to ward off their most imminent threat from the north might ensure their survival.

  “How close are they?” asked Madison.

  “Only about a mile, but they seem to be taking their time moving our way,” replied Colton. “Wren sent some scouts out today to watch their activities. He’ll get a report back and discuss it with me tomorrow.”

  Madison remained quiet for a moment. Alex hadn’t said a word during the entire conversation. Colton couldn’t determine if they were digesting his words or if their attitudes were shifting. He had to provide his family a steady mix of reality and optimism. Poor mental health, whether through malnutrition or loss of hope, would lead to their downfall. It was critical that they all keep a positive state of mind.

  First of all, it was essential to situational readiness. A distracted mind made you vulnerable to surprise. A poor state of mind could result in letting down your guard and, therefore, exposing yourself to attack. In this dystopian world, they had to constantly be prepared to defend themselves against potential threats. Colton had to keep the girls in this survival mind-set without breaking their spirit.

  Secondly, depression and suicide could be contagious if Colton didn’t address it before it set in. Alex’s killing of Holder was only one aspect of the dark cloud of depression he was trying to ward off. Madison was becoming increasingly quiet and withdrawn. Colton was concerned she was having difficulty overcoming her anxiety and fear. Colton’s solution was to provide his wife common ground with others situated like them, to give and receive support.

  Colton wasn’t naïve. He’d watched Wren and the other regular attendees of the HPA carefully. As the circle of neighbors grew smaller, his vision of the entire situation became clearer. There was strength in loyalty, not necessarily in numbers. He’d have to determine where the residents’ loyalties lay.

  “I say we go for it, Mom,” said Alex, breaking her silence. “I’ve noticed how the people look up to Daddy now. After you showed them the video, their attitudes changed.”

  “Yeah, I guess that did calm down the witch hunt,” said Madison.

  “Also, don’t forget,” continued Alex. “Daddy really put Wren in his place. There was a huge difference between today’s meeting and the one just two days ago. I know I’d feel better if we could count on others too.”

  “So is that a yes vote for working with the HPA?” asked Colton.

  “Yes,” replied Alex.

  “Maddie, what say you?” asked Colton.

  Madison pondered for a moment and then smiled. “I vote a reluctant yes,” she said finally. “At first, let’s use them to repel the bad guys. After that, we should reevaluate. I don’t want the neighbors thinking they can come over for supper.”

  “Fair enough,” agreed Colton.

  Now that the issue of working with Wren and the HPA to repel the threat was agreed upon, Colton knew he’d have to address the bigger question at some point—should we stay, or should we go?

  Chapter 30

  DAY ELEVEN

  Noon, September 19

  HPA Meeting House

  Trimble Rd. & Lynnwood Blvd.

  Belle Meade, Tennessee

  Colton listened to the reports from the scouts Wren sent out yesterday and he began to question the wisdom of taking on the gang of thugs that called themselves COBRA. The COBRA gang traveled in one big pack, with a show of overwhelming force. After they pulled onto a street in their dilapidated but operating sixties model cars and trucks, the leader brought the convoy to a halt. They honked their horns for a minute or two to get the attention of the residents. Then their leader emerged with a bullhorn.

  After hearing the details, Colton and Wren agreed they needed to hurry up the meeting and see these guys in action for themselves. But based upon COBRA’s daily progress, they needed to be stopped immediately. After today, COBRA would be working their way down Sunnybrook Drive, only two blocks to their north.

  “I won’t gloss over the facts to make you feel better,” started Colton, addressing the HPA residents for the first time. There were nearly twenty men and eleven women in attendance. “The residents to our north are fleeing their homes in the wake of this group’s advance towards us. Many are opting for 100 Oaks. Others are walking to the south and more rural areas such as Williamson County. We have learned that this group, which calls themselves COBRA, has taken up residency in Harpeth Hall and are spreading their reign of terror outward from there.”

  Harpeth Hall was an all-girls school with an excellent reputation built up over one hundred and fifty years. Only a few miles away from the Ryman home, Colton and Madison had debated whether to enroll Alex there when she was old enough to enter fifth grade.

  They chose Davidson Academy even though it was much farther away because it was co-ed. They agreed Alex could get a more well-rounded life experience attending a school with boys. Granted, that opened Alex up for the usual hazing such as bra snaps or insults. Madison argued the time for Alex to experience the hatefulness of others was not when she was entering the grown-up world for the first time.

  Colton continued. “The houses on Belle Meade Boulevard have the protection of law enforcement and the National Guardsmen. I suppose status does gain you privileges after the world as we know it comes to an end. But don’t envy them too much. The fires continue to burn out of control and are now on this side of Highway 100.”

  “Can we contact them somehow and gain their assistance?” asked one of the neighbors.

  “We tried that yesterday, and the response was simple—we have our orders,” interjected Wren. “I’m afraid we’ll have to fight for ourselves.”

  One man put his hand in the air before he began to speak. “How many are there?”

  “Our scouts estimate that the gang is made-up of eighteen to twenty well-armed men,” replied Wren.

  “Are those military guys gonna help us?” asked one resident, referring to the phony National Guardsmen who attended one of the early meetings. Colton let Wren answer that one.

  “Um, no. They’ve moved on. I mean, they were recalle
d to their unit.”

  “How are we supposed to fight twenty looters on our own?” asked another neighbor. “We’re not soldiers.”

  Colton took this one, which gave him an opportunity to instill confidence in the group. “How do we stop that? We have to create a larger force. Everybody must fight. You need to go home and explain to your neighbors who didn’t come today to be ready. We have the element of surprise on our side. We know the neighborhood and they don’t.”

  “I don’t have a gun.”

  “Me either.”

  “I only have a twenty-two. It’ll barely take down a squirrel.”

  Wren stepped in. “We’ll have weapons for everyone. Maybe even two—a rifle and a handgun. Ammo too. We’ll meet here at dawn at which time I can assure you, everybody will be well armed.”

  The group began to speak among themselves. The conversations surrounding the use of weapons used to take place at wine and cheese parties or during political fund-raisers. Now the gun debate was couched in reality.

  “Everyone, listen up,” started Colton. “We’ll take the battle to them. Today, we’re going to watch their methods. We’ll find a flaw and catch them off guard. We have to take a stand now, or they will overrun us in a matter of days.”

  From the heads nodding in the crowd and the slaps on the backs of one another, it appeared Colton was garnering a consensus. These folks needed to support one another because there was a good chance several wouldn’t make it home.

  “I want all of you to go home and spend time with your families. Kiss the ones you love and make peace with God. Be here at dawn tomorrow and bring your neighbors.”

  The attendees began to file out of the HPA meeting house, leaving Wren and two men who Colton recognized but had never formally met.

  “Colton, I want you to meet Wilson Holt and his neighbor Sammy Shepherd,” started Wren. “They both live up on Sunnybrook Drive.” The men exchanged handshakes.

  “By our calculations, our homes will be the first ones on the hit list,” said Shepherd. “From what we’ve observed the last couple of days, there won’t be anything left unless we take a stand.”

  Colton suggested they take a walk up the street and then sneak through the backyards. He wanted to observe the methods used by this COBRA gang. As they walked, Shepherd and Holt related their observations and analysis to Colton and Wren.

  COBRA usually traveled by two land yachts, as Colton used to call them. A land yacht from the sixties was a big four-door Cadillac or Lincoln. Built in the days before gas mileage was an issue, six men could fit inside of them with relative ease.

  Their third vehicle was a military surplus M35 cargo truck, commonly referred to as a Deuce and a Half. In addition to functioning as a troop carrier, it was ideal for use by COBRA as a loot carrier.

  They usually started their activities in the afternoon. Apparently, they were undisciplined and partied late into the night following the day’s raids. Holt pointed out that on two occasions, men stood up to the thugs in an attempt to deny access to their homes or their wives. This didn’t end well either time. The COBRA thugs pummeled the men mercilessly and kidnapped the women.

  These vicious marauders preferred to beat their victims, which was a much more personal method of murder. Thus far, according to Shepherd and Holt, gunshots hadn’t been heard. Colton surmised there was more to this group than met the eye.

  Holt led the contingent northward on Lynnwood Boulevard to where COBRA was in the process of a raid. As the HPA group cautiously approached the homes on Signal Hill Drive, several of the thugs were in the midst of beating a man and his son to death in the front yard of their home.

  Colton was about to learn for himself what embodied the depravity of man.

  Chapter 31

  DAY ELEVEN

  4:00 p.m., September 19

  Ryman Residence

  Belle Meade, Tennessee

  Madison presented Colton with her updated inventory, a projected meal plan, and some calculations based on maintaining their current food levels. Colton studied the Farm Bureau insurance calendar used by Madison to plan out their meals. He’d better grow fond of beans and rice.

  “Well, at least we have a date,” started Colton. “It’s better to know when we’ll run out than speculate and get caught off guard. To extend our food supply, we have to procure more from our neighbors or the power has to come on in a hurry. Even then, there’s no guarantee the trucks will begin running and delivering food to the grocery stores.”

  “If the power remains out much longer, we’ll have to make a decision about staying here,” added Madison. Colton was glad to hear her think in these terms. He didn’t want to leave either. Colton loved their home so much he was willing to risk his life against a band of marauders, a decision he’d second-guessed repeatedly in the last few hours.

  “I wish there was a farmers’ market around,” said Colton. “I could trade them something we don’t need for food or even seeds. If we can make it through the winter, we could plant our garden.”

  Madison took the calendar back and started counting days with the tip of a pencil until she reached the third week of October. “Growing up in the mid-state, I remember most crops were harvested in September and October. If there is any hope of supplementing our food supply with fresh vegetables, it would have to occur in the next four weeks. That’s assuming, of course, we could find a farmer willing to trade with us.”

  “My biggest fear about traveling into the countryside is that once we leave that garage, everybody and their brother will know about the Wagoneer,” said Colton. “It’s a miracle we’ve kept it hidden this long. If I travel out of the county, there is no guarantee I can get back in one piece.”

  “I agree. We’ve got to save the Wagoneer as our last method of escape.”

  Colton walked across the living room and peered through the makeshift peepholes he’d created to monitor the outside. When he returned to the kitchen, he asked Madison how long Alex had been sleeping. They’d switched up their routine so that Alex could take the night shift and Colton could get a good night’s sleep.

  “She’s been sleeping four hours,” replied Madison as she handed him an MRE bar. She was diligent about feeding the family in five or six small meals a day to maintain their energy levels.

  “When Alex wakes up, we’ll make a trip over to the O’Malleys’,” started Colton. “I found it odd that they didn’t have any vegetable seeds stored. I must have overlooked them. In the coming weeks, their garden is going to provide a few things like carrots, potatoes, and squash.”

  “That will help,” added Madison somewhat enthusiastically.

  “Maddie, have you thought more about leaving?” asked Colton.

  “To where?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I have an idea that I’ve been bouncing around in my head.”

  Madison had been thinking about the issue, and she began to share all of the variables with Colton. “Here’s the way I see it,” she started. “Of course, I’d like to hunker down with our supplies and ride out the storm until the world gets back on its feet. But we don’t know when that will be.”

  “Do you get the sense the walls are closing in on us?” asked Colton, unafraid now to broach the subject with his wife.

  “I do. The fires might get under control with a couple solid days of rain, but the National Guard won’t stop their house-to-house searches until they take everything we have. Even if we fool them the first time, when they drive by in a week or two and see that we’re still here, they’ll try again.”

  “That’s true,” said Colton.

  “Then there’s tomorrow,” said Madison, waving the calender in the air. “My husband, top-notch talent agent, is going to war with a bunch of COBRAs. You’re not an ex-Marine or some fictional guy who can all of a sudden charge headlong into the teeth of the enemy, mowing them down with your new machine gun over there without breaking a sweat.” Madison nodded to the AR-15 slung over the back of the kitchen chair.<
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  “I don’t have to do this, you know,” said Colton. “We can pack up now and leave. I’d imagined staying here until the recovery effort kicks in, but I don’t see it happenin’, do you?”

  “Nope, which is why I did this today,” replied Madison. “Can we survive here until the power is restored? Even if you’re successful in repelling these guys tomorrow, there will be another group right behind them eventually. Is that the way we want to live?”

  Colton was relieved to have this conversation. He was not anxious to leave, but now he knew he wouldn’t have to convince Madison to leave their home.

  “I feel better about headin’ out to the country now than I did a week ago,” said Colton. “The threats we face are a big factor. We can only live under this type of pressure for so long. I don’t know what we’ll face away from Nashville, but there will be less of them.”

  Madison reached out and held his hand, which gave him the strength to continue.

  “The survival of our family rests on our shoulders, and if we find ourselves in an environment that isn’t conducive to safety, we need to make a choice. We either leave an environment that is toxic, or we stand firm and defend it. Before that choice is made, we need to weigh our options carefully, including the risks and the odds of surviving these threats. Really, what it all comes down to is which scenario gives us the best opportunity to survive and then create a new life for ourselves where we can thrive.”

  “Colt, I’ve always trusted your judgment,” said Madison. “Throughout our lives together, you’ve always been a loving husband and a great father to Alex. Whatever you decide, I’m with ya, Mr. Ryman.”

  “I love you, and our daughter is our life,” started Colton. “I don’t care where we live as long as we’re together.”