by Nick Randall
The father’s wife put her hand over her mouth.
“But here’s the good news: we can protect you,” Gale continued. “We can protect you and the other innocent people here. But we’re gonna need your help.”
“Absolutely,” said the father. “We know a few other families here, we can help spread the word for you.”
“Thank you, that’s much appreciated,” Gale said, quite pleased. “What’s your name?”
“Phillip,” said the father. “Phil is what I go by, though.”
He extended his arm and shook Gale’s hand.
“Can you fight for us too, Phil?” Gale asked. “We’ll need every man we can get.”
“I don’t know, I gotta family to provide for,” Phil lifted his baseball cap and ran his hand through his curly hair.
“The Compound is willing to give food, medicine, and supplies to anyone who joins our cause,” Gale promptly replied. “In addition to shelter and protection for your families. We even have a couple of spare houses available. I’m assuming you and your family would rather have that then the old and faded tent I see you’re living in now.”
That information immediately perked Phil’s interest.
“A whole house?” he asked.
“You may have to share it with another family or two we bring in, but yes,” Gale folded his arms. “But you have to fight for us. Do you have guns?”
“All I got is an old thirty-eight and a couple of boxes of ammo,” Phil said. “I’m not exactly much of a shooter, it’s been a couple years since I even fired the darn thing.”
“That’s just fine,” assured Gale. “We got plenty of guys and gals at the Compound who can fight, but we still need to make sure we have an advantage. That’s why we’re looking to further increase our numbers.”
“I’ll talk around and see who can help,” said Phil. “Man, it’s been nearly a month since we had to evacuate. Been living in his tent the whole time…I can only imagine what’d it be like to have a house again.”
Phil glanced back at his smiling wife and kids, who couldn’t contain their excitement. Their fortunes had completely changed within minutes.
“We’ll be back tonight or tomorrow,” Gale extended his arm to shake Phil’s hand again. “Thank you for all your help. We appreciate it. And I’ll definitely reserve that house for you.”
* * *
Randall, Robert, Alexandra, and Duncan finally arrived at Randall’s parents’ neighborhood after a good hour of walking.
Alexandra and Duncan kept their handguns hidden as they walked. Per Alexandra’s orders, Randall and Robert never said a word to one another, and they all walked in single file line with Randall at the front and Robert behind him.
Randall was relieved to see that the neighborhood was in much better shape then the rest of town. There was still plenty of trash lying around and stray dogs and cats, but the houses were still in great condition mostly. Some windows were boarded up, but Randall didn’t see any doors beaten down or anything of that nature.
The four finally arrived to the front of Marcus and Susan’s house.
“You have the key, right?” Alexandra asked.
“Yes,” replied Randall.
“Alright, no funny business,” Alexandra said, putting her hand over the .45 jammed in her belt and starting to pull it out.
They stepped up to the front door and Randall unlocked it. By this point, the .45 was in Alexandra’s hands and pointed at Robert’s back. She tapped Duncan on the foot and he drew the .357.
After the four had stepped into the house, Duncan shut the door behind them.
To Randall’s utter amazement, the entire inside of the house was completely untouched. How could this be when all of the other residences they had seen had been vandalized and stripped clean?
“Alright, now where is it?” Alexandra snapped. “Where’s the food and supplies?”
“A few different places,” Randall said. “There will be some in the garage, some downstairs, and some more in the pantry.”
“Lead the way,” Alexandra said. “But let’s try the pantry first.”
Since the house opened up to a split staircase when you walked in through the front door, they immediately had to step up the staircase.
Randall’s heart was pounding. He knew that Alexandra was not going to keep Robert and he alive once they found the supplies. Marcus had always kept a revolver for home defense in the upstairs closet. If only he could get to it…
They stepped into the kitchen and Randall opened up the pantry. Sure enough, it was completely filled with food: noodles, pasta, ramen, bread, flour, soups, raisins, soda, and everything else you could imagine.
Alexandra’s eyes went wide. It had been a long time since she had seen so much food.
“Alright, start gathering it up,” she ordered. “Put everything in those grocery bags there.”
She motioned to the used grocery bags that Susan had kept stuffed together in the side of the pantry.
“Robert, do you want to gather the food?” Randall asked. “I can get the blankets and medicine in the closet over there.”
“I said gather up the food!” Alexandra barked. “Both of you!”
“Look, we need the food, but we need the medicine and blankets too,” Randall said. “We could speed this process up if we work on both at the same time.”
Alexandra hesitated for a moment.
“Fine,” she finally said. “Duncan, keep an eye on him.”
Duncan nodded, still not saying a word. Randall led him over to the closet while Robert began to collect the food in the pantry and stuff it in the grocery bags under Alexandra’s watch.
Randall opened the closet while Duncan kept Robert’s Ruger trained on him.
Randall picked up the two containers of medicine that were there and set them down on the floor. He then turned to the blankets that were folded up nicely there and began to lift them up.
He carefully lifted up one blanket and sure enough, the Hogue grip of Marcus’ Smith & Wesson M65 .357 Magnum revolver was there. Randall managed to get it out without Duncan noticing by sliding it out between two of the blankets.
“You say there’s more stuff in the garage and downstairs?!” Alexandra shouted to Randall.
“Yes!” Randall replied.
Randall was holding two folded blankets, with his dad’s .357 concealed between them. He was prepared to use it in the next five seconds if he had to.
“I wanna see them!” Alexandra shouted back. “Let’s leave this stuff alone for now and head down there.”
She and Robert came back around the corner of the house. Robert was carrying two grocery bags filled up with food. He set them down on the floor.
“Let’s go downstairs first,” Randall said.
He lead the four downstairs with the folded blankets in his arms. They got down to the split stairwell and then turned the corner to go downstairs when Alexandra said, “Why you got those blankets there?”
“We need these blankets,” Randall said, almost meekly.
“Yeah, but why are you carrying them down there, dumbass?” Alexandra rolled her eyes.
Randall had reached the downstairs level by this point. Robert, Duncan, and Alexandra were still standing on the staircase above him.
“You want me to set them down, I’ll set them down,” said Randall.
He got down to his knees to set the blankets on the floor. That’s when Alexandra started to grow suspicious. She raised the .45 and aimed it at Randall.
“What do you have in between those blankets?” she asked Randall.
“Nothing,” said Randall.
“Let’s see,” she said. “Unfold them. Now.”
Just then, the front door behind Alexandra creaked open. She turned to see who it was. Randall looked over her shoulder to see to.
Standing there in the doorway was Justin, Randall’s neighbor and former police officer.
And to Randall’s immense relief, Justin had a Glock 19 9
mm in both hands aimed at Alexandra!
“Drop it, lady,” he ordered, his voice calm and yet stern.
Alexandra could tell he meant business.
“Who the hell are you?” she asked.
“Just drop it,” he retorted.
Seizing his opportunity, Randall pulled the Smith & Wesson from under the blankets and aimed it at Duncan.
“Drop the gun!” Randall ordered.
“No, don’t!” Alexandra ordered back.
Afraid out of his wits, Duncan nonetheless held tightly onto the grip of the Ruger and kept it trained on Robert.
It was a Mexican standoff: Duncan had his gun aimed at Robert, Randall had his gun aimed at Duncan, and Alexandra and Justin had their guns aimed at each other. They were all in such close proximity that if they fired, it would be at point blanket range and nearly impossible to miss.
“Don’t try anything stupid, lady,” Justin growled again. “Drop the gun.”
“Come on, let’s be reasonable here,” Alexandra managed to say, her voice considerably weaker now because she could see the tables had turned on her.
Alexandra had a two handed grip on the .45, but now she let go of one hand and let it settle over the grip of the Beretta 9mm in her belt.
“We aren’t negotiating,” said Justin, cooly. “Drop it.”
Alexandra glanced between Randall, Robert, and Justin.
“You need to go, buddy,” she said. “Shut the damn door and walk off. This ain’t your business.”
“As a matter of fact, this is,” Justin countered. “Randall’s parents are my neighbors…and my friends. And I can tell that you’re most certainly not a friend of theirs, which means you’re not my friend either.”
There was about five seconds of silence, but it felt like five minutes to Randall. He kept his cool, trying to control his adrenaline that was rushing throughout his body. He didn’t want to do anything stupid.
Finally, Alexandra sighed and raised her pistol higher to Justin’s head. She uttered two words:
“Screw it.”
Justin instantly double tapped two hammered on shots into Alexandra’s chest, sending her own shot off into the door. The bullets exited out her back and sprayed the wall behind her with blood as she fell back.
Before Duncan could get a shot off, Robert grabbed the long barrel of the revolver and forcefully twisted it out of his hands, before punching him square in the face and knocking him down.
“I surrender, I surrender!” shouted Duncan through his bleeding mouth, his hands raised high in the air.
Justin stepped into the house with his Glock still trained on Alexandra. She looked up at him in defeat before her eyes glazed over in death.
“She’s gone,” Justin said, lowering his Glock. “You guys, okay?”
“We’re fine,” Randall said. “Thanks to you.”
Justin quickly scanned outside before closing the door.
“No doubt the neighbors heard those gunshots,” he said. “I’ll explain what happened to them later.”
Robert grabbed Duncan and hauled him downstairs. Justin holstered his Glock and then picked up the Colt .45 and Beretta 9mm that Alexandra had.
“Those are mine,” said Randall, eager to get them back.
Justin handed the two pistols over to Randall and they went downstairs to join Duncan and Robert.
“Sit on the couch,” Robert ordered.
“Please don’t kill me!” Duncan cried through tears.
“We won’t if you shut up and do as we say!” Robert hissed.
Duncan promptly sat on the couch as Robert ordered and covered his face with a pillow, sobbing.
“Who are these people?” Justin asked.
“Well, we got a long story to tell you,” said Randall.
Randall took five minutes to summarize everything that had happened to him since had last seen Justin at the start of the EMP.
“Crazy,” Justin said, when Randall was through. “Your family seriously rescued your brother from that Compound place?”
“That’s right,” Randall said. “Wasn’t easy, but we saved him.”
Justin shook his head in disbelief.
“I suppose you want to know what’s been happening here,” he said.
“We heard the town was under martial law, but then the military pulled out and withdrew to Spokane,” said Randall. “We also heard all the homes got sacked, but this neighborhood looks almost as good as it was.”
“That’s because we’ve got three other police officers who live in this neighborhood, plus I’m good friends with the chief,” Justin said. “We convinced him to talk to the National Guard commander and tell him that he would take the neighborhood’s supplies for him. Of course, he didn’t because of his good graciousness. I was relieved.”
“Look guys, I’d love to continue talking, but it’s been ten hours since we left the cabin,” Robert joined in. “We gotta grab as much stuff as we can and hightail it outta here. My sister is still with those people, remember?”
“I’ll let you go, but I gotta ask, how in the hell did you guys possibly get here?” asked Justin.
“Stole a truck from the Compound,” said Randall. “A 1980s Toyota Hi-Lux. Still in good working condition because it’s invulnerable to the EMP.”
“Where are you guys parked?” Justin asked.
“Outside of Coeur d’Alene on the road to Athol,” said Randall.
“Wow, you’ve got a lot of walking to do,” remarked Justin.
Just then, there was a knock on the door, followed by multiple more knocks.
“That’ll be the neighbors,” said Justin. “I’ll talk to them. Gather what you guys need. I’ll take it you’ll be heading back to your grandparents’ lake cabin?”
“That’s right,” Randall said. “And thank you for what you did. You saved our lives.”
“No problem, I wish you all the luck,” Justin said. “And don’t worry, I’ll take care of the body too.”
Chapter Nine
The Compound
Butler stood in his office overlooking a map of Priest Lake. Gale and George and his lieutenants Mitchum and Jones were in the room with him.
“You’re sure they’re here on the north end?” Butler asked.
He pointed to the northern end of Priest Lake on the map.
“We didn’t actually see them, but several folks said that’s where they are,” replied Gale. “There seemed to be broad consensus on that.”
Butler nodded.
“Then that’s where they must be,” he said.
“We spread the word about what they did to Gerald,” said Gale. “More people are going to join our side. Tonight or tomorrow, I’m supposed to meet up with this guy named Phil and a band of people that he’s getting together.”
“Good,” grunted Butler.
“And about that…I promised them one of the vacant houses,” said Gale. “So we bought them at a price.”
“A price that we can easily afford,” said Butler. “The more people we have, the better. Not only to eliminate the Parkers, but to survive over the long term as well.”
Butler stepped away from the map and over to his big gun safe that rested in the corner.
“Mitchum, update me on the progress we’ve made here,” Butler said as he began to unlock the gun safe.
“In addition to our normal security force of two hundred men, we’ve got three hundred more people who are able to fight,” explained Mitchum. “But we have quite a few old folks and children, so a lot of other able bodied people who could fight want to stay here to protect them instead of venturing out after the Parkers.”
Butler opened up his gun safe and pulled out a Ruger Mini-14 with a collapsing skeletal stock. He set it down on the table next to the map.
“That’s fine,” he remarked. “People are scared, I get it. Besides, we need people to guard the Compound anyway. And five hundred soldiers plus the guys we’re gonna meet up with? That’s more than enough.”
Butler set some loaded magazines for his Mini-14 down on the table and then stepped back to his gun safe.
“Five hundred is way too many,” said Gale. “How are we supposed to transport all of them? We don’t even have a dozen vehicles. And how are we supposed to coordinate an attack with so many people? It’s not like the Parkers have that many. I’d be willing to bet that they have twenty people at the very most. A dozen or less is more likely.”
