At first, many treated it as permission to party, but soon looting began to take place. Those in the cities made the mistake of going after what was considered a commodity—precious metals, jewels, electronics—but as starvation began to set in, for many, it was already too late. Those who’d figured out what was going on were quickly stocking up on weapons and ammunition, as well as food, water, and medical supplies.
That’s when the real violence set in, between the haves and have-nots. If you were unlucky enough to be considered weak, you became a casualty of those fighting to survive. Megan had seen it first hand, coming across fights for canned food and other supplies. She quickly learned not to look as though she had anything of value on her; especially when she had her daughter with her.
Those familiar with growing their own food and living off the land were thriving. Megan had seen a few farms on her travels but despite repeat attempts to get assistance, they were quick to turn her away as she, more than once, found herself on the wrong end of a gun. Strangers were not welcome. Trust was a pricey commodity that most could ill-afford.
Megan wasn’t exactly a survivalist, but she did know how to hunt. She wasn’t thriving, but she’d been getting by—until now.
In the beginning, Megan and many of her neighbors that stayed put banded together in the hopes of securing their survival but after one too many groups descended on their small town like locusts in search of supplies, the destruction that followed in their wake grew progressively worse with each new group.
The quiet little town she’d called home for two years became a war zone and Megan knew she had to get Caitlin out of there; their very survival depended on it.
Her goal was to keep heading north, into the mountains where those once living in urban settings would likely avoid. Living in the northern mountains was hard, both the climate and the land was unforgiving, making it seem less amenable to the large numbers of urban and suburban survivors. Granted that didn’t mean they would be safe. She knew that eventually looters would make their way into less accessible environments but hopefully by then, Caitlin would be better and they would have moved on.
Not seeing anyone around, Megan moved closer to the cabin, praying it was empty. Shuffling Caitlin in her arms, she looked frantically about to find a way in. There were no large windows on the ground floor that she could see. They didn’t need any considering the entire front of the second story was windows that stretched to a high peak in the center. She imagined high cathedral ceilings with plenty of natural light pouring in.
The cabin was built in front of a large hill. Megan assumed she was looking at the front of the home, but was perplexed there wasn’t a door. Scouting around, she didn’t see a door on the side either.
Who would put a door in the back, facing the hill?
Carrying Caitlin, she walked closer to the over-sized cabin and finally saw a door made to look like the log walls of the cabin making it tough to see from a distance. Under different circumstances, Megan had to admire the work they put into making the cabin appear inaccessible but right now, all she wanted was to find an easy way in.
Hoping for a miracle, Megan awkwardly used one hand to try the doorknob while holding Caitlin close against her chest.
Locked.
Of course. Sure, the end of the world as they all knew it had happened, but people still locked their doors. Actually, it was more important than ever that people locked up their belongings. Looters, starving and desperate for the most basic supplies, were ruthless. Megan understood the locked door, but it still ticked her off. The door was solid and Megan knew there was no way she was getting through it.
She scanned the area and spotted a copse of birch trees off to the left of the property. Megan quickly walked over and carefully placed her daughter on the ground, next to an iron bench. She imagined that once upon a time this would have been a beautiful place to sit and read a good book. For most, reading had become a luxury and for those who only read digital books, it was now impossible. From the looks of the overgrown plants around the cabin, it had clearly not been taken care of for years, which gave her hope the place was abandoned.
Abandoned meant there wouldn’t be anyone to harass or hurt them. It would be a struggle with only her daughter for company or help but it was safer than what was going on in the more populated areas. Megan rubbed her arms to ward off the shiver at how dangerous the world had become in a matter of weeks and how much worse it was going to get.
She brushed the dark hair back from Caitlin’s brow. “I’ll be right back. You stay right here.” The words were out of habit because it was obvious Caitlin wasn’t going anywhere and wouldn’t even know her mother was gone.
Dropping her pack next to her daughter, Megan instinctively crouched low and stayed light on her feet as she crept towards the cabin. It was only two stories high, but the huge peak in the center made it appear much bigger. As she rounded the corner, her heart sank. The place had clearly been looted already. Garbage was strewn about and it appeared there’d actually been a fire. Someone had already come through this area and taken all the food.
There were glass shards all over the ground and a piece of plywood over what was apparently a broken window. She quickly glanced back to check on Caitlin before going around the back. There were some broken chairs lying on the ground. Megan spotted a door with two pieces of plywood on either side, covering more broken windows. Someone had gone through the effort to board them up—why? She scanned the back wall and saw a couple small circular windows that were far too small for a person to fit through, which was probably why the glass was still in place.
Had the boarding up been completed recently or was it done before the EMP struck three months ago? She hesitated. What if someone was living here and waiting inside?
Megan took a split second to make her decision. Her daughter’s life was at stake. She would take her chances. She tried the handle, knowing it wouldn’t budge, but twisted it anyway. She could always hope fate was kind. This time, she wasn’t going to let a locked door stop her. It wasn’t solid like the one in the front. She had to try.
Standing on her left leg, she raised her right leg and gave the door a good, hard kick. Her boots added more force to the kick. The door held. Megan kicked again and again. She couldn’t give up. Her knee and ankle felt as if someone had stuck a knife into the joints with each kick, but she didn’t care. This was her only hope to get help for her daughter. They’d been traveling all day and with nightfall coming and the temperature dropping, she was going to get inside one way or another.
After another kick that proved futile, Megan took a step back. She bent over at the waist, taking a few deep breaths.
“Please, God. Help me get this door open.” Ever since she was a little girl, she’d been called stubborn. Her ex-husband, Derick, repeatedly told her he hated how obstinate she could be. In the almost thirty-two years she’d been on this earth, her stubbornness had only gotten stronger. This was one time she was very happy to be stubborn. She wasn’t going to give up.
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’d 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 busted down the door.
Megan shouted. “Hello? Hello, is there anyone here? I need help!” She was prepared to use the poor, struggling woman with a sick child in tow card. 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 out
side 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’d 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’d 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’d been some warnings about solar flares. Megan only knew about the warnings because she’d 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’d 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’ve 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’d 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 tablets in it, 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’d 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 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 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 may be 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’d 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 hung 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 t
o 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’d 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 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’d 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.
EMP Lodge Series Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 2
