Days of Terror
Page 1
Days of Terror
EMP Survival Series Book 4
Jack Hunt
Direct Response Publishing
Contents
Also by Jack Hunt
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
A Plea
Reading Team
About the Author
Copyright © 2018 by Jack Hunt
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
DAYS OF TERROR: Book 4 is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Also by Jack Hunt
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The Agora Virus series
Phobia
Anxiety
Strain
The War Buds series
War Buds 1
War Buds 2
War Buds 3
Camp Zero series
State of Panic
State of Shock
State of Decay
Renegades series
The Renegades
The Renegades Book 2: Aftermath
The Renegades Book 3: Fortress
The Renegades Book 4: Colony
The Renegades Book 5: United
The Wild Ones Duology
The Wild Ones Book 1
The Wild Ones Book 2
The EMP Survival series
Days of Panic
Days of Chaos
Days of Danger
Days of Terror
Mavericks series
Mavericks: Hunters Moon
Time Agents series
Killing Time
Single Novels
Blackout
Defiant
Darkest Hour
Final Impact
For my Family
Prologue
Texas
New Hope Springs
Elliot Wilson observed the compound through binoculars. It had taken the better part of two weeks to reach Texas because the truck had given up the ghost somewhere near Wichita Falls and roving gangs had attacked them. They were still reeling from their death of their dog, Kong, who had got caught in the crossfire of an assault three days into their journey. It had devastated them. They’d buried him in a small patch of land not far from a lake. The loss had taken its toll and affected them all in different ways.
Although tired, hungry and thirsty they were all grateful to have made it alive but before walking into the unknown they wanted to be sure it wasn’t a trap.
He lay on the stone overlook, shrouded by pine trees and thick underbrush. In the middle of the day he had to be careful that the reflection from the glass didn’t glint, so he kept a hand over the top, and angled down.
“What have we got?” Damon asked.
Elliot handed over the binoculars without saying anything then rolled and looked at the sky. A hard Texas sun bore down causing small beads of sweat to trickle down the side of his temple. The group had made camp about two miles away in a heavily wooded area while three of them did some reconnaissance on the compound. Although eager to enter what Jesse was jokingly calling “The Promised Land” they weren’t stupid. Their previous run-ins with the likes of Magnus, and Dallas, along with other desperate individuals on the road, hell-bent on killing, had made them wary. Elliot glanced at Gary who hadn’t said a word in the past hour. Conversation with him had been reduced to small talk. Anything that touched on more than that got a rise out of him, or caused him to shut down. It was to be expected. After the death of Jill, he’d had a lot of time to think about his relationship with her, or lack of. It’s like the old saying… you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone, Jesse had said. His mouth had already got him into trouble with Gary and Damon after both had lost someone they cared for.
“What do you think Gary?” Elliot asked trying to involve him in the decision-making.
He shrugged, chewing on a long reed. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Um, let me see. They can kill us,” Damon said, stating the obvious, as he pulled the binoculars away and handed them back to Elliot.
Gary continued. “But beyond that?”
“Starvation, sexual abuse, torture, you know… run-of-the-mill, post-apocalyptic pastime entertainment.”
Damon nudged Elliot and he smirked. It was an odd feeling to have traveled so far and now to be within spitting distance and yet still on the fence. They’d all agreed that if the compound was in operation and appeared to be safe they would enter. Worst-case scenario they would have to fight for their lives, but what was new?
“You know they’ll want our weapons, right?” Gary said.
“So we bury a few outside, and if things get hot, we know where to come to?” Damon said.
“I don’t think all of us should go in at once,” Elliot added. “We should have two or three hang back until we assess the risk level.”
“And who’s making that decision?” Gary asked.
“Unless people want to volunteer, we’ll put it to a vote. At least that way if things go south when we’re inside, the kids are safe.”
“Sounds like you’re on the fence.”
Elliot groaned and rolled over taking another look through the binoculars. “To be honest, I don’t know what to do but I won’t put the lives of my kids at risk. Two days should give us enough time to feel our way out. If all is good, we’ll bring them in.”
Damon unslung his rifle and rolled his shoulder trying to release some of the pent-up tension. “I’ll go in, you all stay back with the kids. No point all of us risking our necks. If I’m not out within 48 hours you know to get the hell out of there.”
“We’re not leaving you behind.”
“You did it before, you can do it again,” Damon said.
Elliot caught sarcasm in his voice.
“C’mon, you know we didn’t have a choice.”
He laughed and patted him on the back. “I’m winding you up, Elliot. It’s all good.”
“Good.” He breathed a sigh of relief and mumbled, “Because I didn’t want to have to deal with another grudge.”
“Another?” Gary asked.
Both of them looked at him and he got quiet. Elliot returned to looking through the binoculars. “I’ve got to take my hat off to whoever built this place. It’s got everything. It must have cost a fortune.”
They got up from lying down and melted back into the woodland to return to the camp. They hadn’t made it a few yards when five guys dressed in military gear seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Their faces were lathered in camo face paint, and their outfits blended into the environment. The tension ran high as rifles were raised and both sides bellowed.
“Drop your weapons!”
“Whoa!” Elliot said, slowly putting his hands u
p. He mouthed to the other two to not lose their cool.
Damon replied in a low tone. “There goes our plan.”
“Just do as they say,” Elliot added.
They lowered their rifles and two of the men moved in and scooped them up, that’s when they started firing questions.
“How many more?” they asked.
“Just us.”
“Where you from?”
“Lake Placid.”
“What are you doing here?”
He sighed. “We heard the broadcast. We were making sure it was safe before we ventured in.”
“Before you attacked it, you mean?”
“No,” Elliot replied. “Are you from there?”
“Shut up. Put these on.” A hefty guy moved forward and tossed bandannas at them. “Cover your eyes.”
“Why?” Damon asked.
“Because I told you.”
“Just had to ask,” he said with a smirk. Damon could always see the funny side to anything even if their lives were hanging in the balance. They tied the bandannas around their eyes and remained still as their pockets were searched, then their wrists were restrained. Within minutes they continued on being pushed through the forest. Elliot stumbled a little and then felt a meaty hand grab him by the elbow to support him.
“Where are you taking us?”
“You’ll see.”
“Look, we just wanted to make sure it was safe.”
“I get it. We heard you the first time,” the guy replied.
“What’s your name?” Elliot asked.
“Just keep walking and shut up.”
They trudged through the woodland for what felt like an hour. Mosquitoes bit their skin and the humidity of the day made them sweat. If they didn’t return within a couple of hours Rayna would search for them. She’d figure they’d entered the compound or something bad had happened. As they marched forward, Elliot could hear a stream bubbling, the sound of the forest around him and then voices; male and female, lots of them.
“Wait here.”
Elliot tried to peer out the bottom of his blindfold. He could just make out Gary and Damon’s feet to the right and left of him. They had no idea if they were about to be shot. A few seconds later, the blindfolds were torn from their faces and he squinted into the sun. The blinding glare of the noonday made it hard to make out who was in front of them. As their eyes slowly adjusted he could see a man seated by a fire. Another to the right of him was poking the hot ashes with a stick. At a rough head count there appeared to be close to thirty women and men, each of them armed and all dressed in the same military fatigues that made them blend in with their environment.
“Excuse the abruptness of my men,” a bearded man said. He bit a piece of apple from the end of his knife and chewed loudly. “We’ve had some trouble over the past month and we can’t be taking any chances.” He looked towards them. “Which one of you is in charge?”
“No one is,” Elliot replied. “We work together.”
The man smirked. “Good answer.” He took another bite of the apple. “I imagine that creates some tension when you can’t agree.”
“At times.”
“And how do you handle that?”
Elliot frowned. “The name’s Elliot and you are?”
“That wasn’t the question,” he replied.
Damon shot him a sideways glance. Elliot hesitated before replying. “We vote. The majority decides what action we take.”
He nodded. “My men said you are from Lake Placid. Is that right?”
“Yeah.”
He took another bite of his apple. “So tell me something about the town?”
He shrugged. “What do you want to know?”
“What’s it known for?”
“What?”
“What’s it known for?” The guy repeated.
“Does it matter?”
“Humor me.”
He sighed and replied, “It hosted the 1980 Winter Games. Good enough?”
“Anyone can tell me that. Tell me something I wouldn’t know,” he said glancing at Elliot as he chewed like a horse. This was a guy in command of the world around him. Elliot had got used to summing up people in a short span of time. The body language gave away a lot. He hadn’t gained that from his time in the military but from living on the streets of New York. Back then he had to make lightning fast decisions. If he got it wrong, it could have meant getting his throat cut.
“The Rockefellers and Vanderbilts used to vacation there, it was voted the best town in America for Halloween, the Adirondacks that surround the town are so vast you could fit Yosemite National Park, Yellowstone, the Great Smoky Mountains and the Grand Canyon inside of it, and still have room for disgruntled campers.”
“Like the ADK 46ers?”
Elliot smirked. This guy obviously knew the area. “Have you hiked all 46 of the highest peaks?”
The Adirondack 46ers, otherwise known as ADK 46ers was a club with over 9,000 members who had climbed all of the peaks. Few people except climbers and locals would know about it, which led Elliot to believe he was an avid climber or knew someone from that neck of the woods.
“Twice,” he replied with a smile.
With that said the man looked at him and motioned for his men to cut their ties. He got up and walked over and extended his hand.
“The name’s Mack Larson. Though everyone here calls me asshole.”
The other men and women burst out laughing and Elliot felt at ease as he shook his hand. “Come, take a seat. You hungry, thirsty?”
“All of the above,” Elliot replied.
As he took a seat he got a better look at where they were. They had built a camp in the middle of the woods, except instead of having the perimeter blocked off by fencing, they had built their home high up in the trees.
“Quite the setup you’ve got here,” Elliot said.
“It does the job. We see our enemies before they see us. We were going to build a fortress, you know with walls and so forth but that would have been a waste of time. People would have seen that from a mile away. However,” he stabbed his finger, “most people forget to look up. We have modern-day technology to thank for that nasty habit.”
“How many of you?”
“Eighty-seven, mostly families that lived in surrounding neighborhoods.”
“For how long?”
“Five months.”
“You’ve managed to carve out an existence living in the woods?”
“Carve would be the right word,” he said looking up at all the wood. “It’s not been easy but it’s safer than the towns. Not too many people venture this far into the forest, and those that do are spotted before they get within a mile of us. We hunt for what we need, we have plenty of water from the streams and the only time we go into towns is to search for ammo.”
Elliot nodded, and Damon interjected with a pinched brow. “So what were you doing near New Hope Springs?”
“Reconnaissance,” he replied without missing beat.
“Same as us then.”
He cleared his throat. “You don’t have anyone that’s in there, do you?” Mack asked.
“No. We were planning on heading in.”
He sucked air between his teeth. “Yeah, I wouldn’t advise that.”
“Why?”
“Let’s say they aren’t exactly friendly hosts. Oh, they’ll give you a warm bed, food and even offer protection but it will cost you a whole lot more in return.”
“You sound like you speak from experience?” Gary added.
“Two of our people ventured in about two weeks ago with a large group that had gathered outside, one of them was a good friend of mine. He hasn’t come out since.”
“Well duh, look at the size of the place. 650 acres, food, water, protection, facilities that tend to every whim and pleasure, would you venture out?”
Mack snorted. “You don’t get it, do you? That’s all smoke and mirrors. Once you are inside, once you are part of what’s
going on — if you don’t toe the line, there’s no getting out, there’s only punishment. Now I don’t know what’s going on in there, but we are monitoring the situation and my men have been trying to spot him. So far they haven’t seen him which leads me to believe either he’s being held there against his will or he’s dead.”
“Dead?”
Without taking his eyes off the three of them he called out a name. “Calvin.”
A young guy came jogging over. He had long, dirty blond hair and deep blue eyes.
“Show them the mark.”
He didn’t hesitate and lifted up his sleeve and turned over his forearm. It was red, raw and the scar was like a dry lakebed. It had the initials TDF.
“They branded him within nine days of being inside. Their leader, a guy going by the name of Frank Shelby, runs an organization called the Texas Defense Force. That was before he raided New Hope Springs two weeks ago. Since then he’s been broadcasting a message to get others to join. They welcome with open arms and allow you to taste the fruits of what they have to offer, and then if you wish to remain you must be branded.”
“Sounds like a drug dealer whetting people’s appetites and getting them hooked.”
“That’s exactly what it is,” Mack replied. He turned back to Calvin. “Tell them what you told me about New Hope Springs.”
He glanced at him then the rest of them.
“There are different forms of punishment. I’ve seen men tied to posts, others thrown into sweatboxes and there were some buried alive with nothing protruding out of the ground except their heads. A few were never seen again. I’m not sure what happened to them, but it created fear among the group.”
“Well that’s some sick shit,” Damon said taking a drink of water from a bottle. They didn’t offer them anything fancy. No beer. No pop. It was just straight up water and potatoes. “And you know what that means, right? We just wasted an entire trip. Shit!”
Elliot frowned then looked back at Calvin. “But you’re here now. How did you get out?”
“I got the branding. Only those who are branded and show a level of commitment are allowed to go on runs with his men. I managed to escape in a town not far from here.”