No Power: EMP Post Apocalyptic Fiction Thriller Super Boxset

by J. S. Donvan Donvan

  Reminded of her time with Commander McCulloch at the DC reserve center, Harper looked eye to eye with the Brighton leaders. Instead of hand-cranked lanterns and duty, it was the dance of candlelight and community that united them.

  “We aren’t going to survive if we don’t expand. Period,” Church stated, forgoing all tact.

  “Are, uh, we talking size?” Levi asked. “Trudy, what’s the population again? Forty-seven?”

  Trudy nodded. “We’re stretched thin, even with that amount.”

  “I know,” Church growled. “We need resources, not more people. Our medical supplies were used on the livestock, and that couldn’t save them. We are also short on ammo and canned food. Even with the seven gardens we’re nurturing, our crops are not growing fast enough to sustain our population.”

  “You mentioned Briersville a while back,” Harper stated. “Do you think that’s a viable option?”

  “It’s our only real option. If we take the Hummer too far out and it breaks down, we need to make sure the rest of you can get home safely. Briersville is only fifteen miles.”

  “I don’t like it,” Dustin said. “We’ve spent all this time building up a half-decent defense grid, and now we are going to run out into the wilds. Seems counterintuitive.”

  Orange flame bounced up Church’s hard face. “That’s why I’m putting together a splinter team. Hunters and gatherers.”

  “I used to be sweet on a girl from Briersville,” Levi said with a smile. “I know the town like the back of my hand. As for the Fence, James can finish it up.”

  “I’m too old for this kind of shenanigans,” stated Trudy. “And you are, too, Church. We need to pass the torch.”

  Church frowned. “I can do this.”

  Trudy glared at him. “No. You can’t. This town needs you here. So no more road clearing. No more hunting. No more leaving. We got plenty of young guns wanting to help.”

  “They don’t have the tenacity to pull the trigger,” Church grumbled.

  “They can learn.”

  After a long stare down between the two, Church spoke up. “Levi can lead. Dustin, Harper, and a few others will help him out.” He turned to Harper. “Didn’t Eli just get his cast off?”

  Chapter Five

  Bricks

  With the afternoon sun beating down on their backs, they moved in a wedge. Leaves, twigs, and glass crunched beneath their boots. A gentle breeze caressed their hair like a lover’s touch. It tossed weathered shopping bags over the quiet street and against chipped light posts. Levi led the spear point, twisting his hips and craning his neck as he turned his semiauto rifle from building to building. Harper and Dustin made up the right wing, while Eli and a city boy named Charlie followed on the left. They grasped hunting rifles and shotguns and kept the safeties off as they stepped stealthily through the ghost town once called Briersville.

  Eerie quiet moved with them as they passed cars, trucks, and other neglected vehicles locked to the cracked concrete by flat tires and dead engines. Harper stepped around a blue sedan, peeking through the fogged glass. Below the fuzzy dice dangling on the rearview mirror sat a picture of a seven-year-old girl. Freckled and in a yellow dress with black polka dots, the girl smiled ear to ear. Where she was now, where her parents were now, only God knew.

  The nearest minivan had its back door wide open. A suitcase filled with mildewed clothes spilled out across the road. Eli knelt down and sifted through the damp pile. Suddenly, he was jumping back and aiming his shotgun. A large brown and glossy centipede slithered out of a shirt’s sleeve and crawled under the car. They re-formed into the wedge that Harper had taught them.

  Soggy cigarette butts, rotting Styrofoam cups, and a few 9mm shell casings clumped in disgusting trash piles where the street rose into sidewalk. On the brim of the tall redbrick buildings that surrounded them, lines of black birds watched them with cocking heads and squawking cries.

  They’d explored the town for over an hour and found no human life.

  “Rapture came early,” Harper said, and no one disputed her.

  Glass spilled from most of the buildings and the gas stations’ jagged window frames. An ajar restaurant door moved slightly, and all guns went up. Holding her breath, Harper watched for a moment. She felt the wind brush her cheek. The door’s hinges creaked again. Rifles ready, they stepped inside.

  The restaurant stunk of sharp death and putrefying rot. They moved through the dark room. Dust twisted in the stinky air. In between tables, a busboy’s cart held a glass pitcher filled with green water. Wormy mosquito hatchlings writhed on the liquid’s surface.

  They moved to the kitchen. Fat flies buzzed over an industrial sink crammed with dishes. Near it, they discovered the freezer door cracked open. The meats inside were spoiled with discolored blotches and dressed with puffy, white maggots. Covering their mouths with the hems of their shirts, the party closed the door, snatched a few food cans hidden behind sticky juice boxes in the pantry, and quickly exited. After shoving the supplies in their backpacks, they walked on. The rest of the buildings were a similar sight: dark, musty, and stripped of useful goods.

  The more they moved in, the more the Briersville felt… off. Eli swore he saw something move on one rooftop, but they only discovered more birds. They eventually came to a stop before a splattered bloodstain on the sidewalk. Above it was an open third-story window.

  “Jumpers,” Levi said, tracing the fall with his deep-brown eyes. The daylight sparkled on his dark steely beard and tan skin.

  The stain had hardened and appeared more burgundy than red. “Rain should’ve washed it away,” Harper said. “Someone cleared the body.”

  “It could’ve been an animal,” Dustin chimed in. “Like a bear or something.”

  Levi shrugged. “Possible.”

  Judging by the sour looks on their faces, Harper knew they wanted the Hummer. Nonetheless, parking away from the town meant less chance of being heard or targeted. If there was going to be a welcoming party, they were miles late.

  When they reached the four-block-long heart of downtown, most of the cars had been cleared out. Around them were tall office buildings turned into antique shops or Lionel train museums. Their shadows were long and boxlike and covered the street like flat jail bars. All of the buildings seemed stripped and abandoned apart from one, a small barbershop with a closed front door nailed shut by two-by-fours.

  “What were they trying to keep out?” Eli asked.

  “Maybe that bear,” Dustin replied, stepping over the spillage of an overflowing community trash can.

  “Lot of work for one bear.” Harper followed behind, tracing the ominous windows around them and realizing just how exposed they really were. A curtain ruffled in an adjacent building’s upper window. Harper felt eyes on her but saw no one. Not taking chances, she kept her gun close.

  “Hug the walls.”

  They listened to her command even though Levi still led. Harper could see him nervously jittering. She’d be lying if she denied her fear. Nonetheless, DC had hardened her, but not to the point of stupidity.

  Backs to the building’s wall, they moved to an alley that separated them from the barbershop. They glanced down the backstreet and found a fly-swarmed dumpster, a shopping cart parked with its face to the wall, and a tarp-covered pallet supporting uneven stacks of bricks. Scaffolding ramps zigzagged nearby and ended at the adjacent shop’s flat rooftop. Not taking any chances, they ran past the alley and to the barbershop.

  Levi stopped before the barricaded front door. He slipped a small, flat pry bar from his detachable tool belt and began removing nails. The others flanked both sides of him, constantly scanning for any signs of movement.

  After a few minutes, long nails nested around Levi’s feet, and he rammed the door with his shoulder. After four good shoulder bashes, the door burst open, and they were met with dust, darkness, and the booming blast of a shotgun.

  Birds went flying. Levi stumbled back into Harper’s arms. She staggered. I
n a chaotic motion, Dustin, Charlie, and Eli all leapt back and aimed their guns into the dark room.

  Levi patted down his chest, gut, and groin and closed his eyes in relief. After a moment, he touched Harper’s arm. She helped him regain his footing. She could feel him trembling as he pulled himself away. He exhaled to lessen the shock and cursed quietly. Pointed at the doorframe and aiming directly at them was a dusty 12-gauge duct-taped to a chair. Running from its trigger to the interior doorknob was a near-invisible line of heavy-duty fishing wire.

  Harper shouldered past the others and gingerly stepped inside, wishing that she had a handgun instead of the long-barreled hunting rifle. Her jade eyes bounced from barber chair to barber chair and finally to the dusty pump-action shotgun.

  “Misfire,” Harper shouted back to the others.

  “I nearly peed myself,” Levi said with a slight chuckle.

  The rest of the group entered the barbershop. Charlie watched the door. Levi stayed far away from the weapon that had almost taken his life.

  “Nasty trap,” Dustin said, shaking his head. “Just plain nasty.”

  They moved with their reflections in the long mirrors that raced down both walls. With the sun spilling across the floor, they headed for the doorless room in the back. Keeping an eye out for any tripwires or floor traps--or whatever traps there may be--they entered the doorless room, Levi taking the vanguard. Even Charles, guarding the door, felt anxious about whatever the shotgun trap was protecting. Tucked in the corner were extra waiting chairs and shelves full of hair products.

  Together, they searched under the chairs, opened a cardboard box, and moved the shelf. Their boon was shampoos, conditioners, and gels to last them months.

  “Lot of work for a whole lot of nothing,” Dustin said unhappily.

  Levi stuffed a few products in his backpack. “Eh, worth dying over, no. But otherwise a pretty good find. It’s good to have healthy hair,” he said, still in shock.

  As they were about to head out, Harper glanced up at the white ceiling tiles. Standing on a chair, she lifted a mineral-fiber square with the tips of her fingers and peeked her head through. Cobwebs and insect carcasses sprinkled the tops of the other tiles. After twisting her head to be facing where the far side of the building was, she spotted a series of plywood planks leading into the darkness. Most curiously, the shop next to the barbershop looked to have been boarded up for months.

  She poked her head down to the others. “There is something up there. Like a bridge.”

  “Will it support you?” Eli asked. His thick hair had shagged over his ears and rested on his shoulders. Blowing air up his face, he moved a bang hanging over his eye.

  “I don’t know.” She peeked up again. “Maybe.”

  “Well, I know it won’t support me,” Levi replied. He stood over six feet tall, so no one contested him. Dustin was a middleweight muscular fellow, and Charlie remained at the front door.

  “Mom, I can do it,” Eli volunteered.

  “Are you sure?” Harper asked him seriously. “You just got your cast off.”

  “Yes, Mother,” he said, sounding peeved.

  Dustin snickered.

  “Dustin,” Harper said with authority.

  “Now you sound like my mother.”

  Harper stepped down and smiled sympathetically as Eli climbed up. Gun hanging on his back, he gritted his teeth as he put his weight in his forearms and lifted himself onto the tiles. Once his thrashing legs slid inside, Harper stood on the chair and watched him army crawl across the planks. His country blue jeans and worn sneakers slowly wiggled into the darkness.

  “How are you holding up?” Harper shouted.

  “Good!” Eli’s elbows and knees knocked on the planks, which clapped against the tiles.

  “Your arm?”

  “Fine!” His voice echoed through the far-stretching and tight space. A loud bump sounded from his direction, followed by a muffled “Ow.”

  “Sure?”

  “Yes, Mom!”

  “Watch out for any loose boards or wires.”

  “Mom! I know!”

  Crack!

  Eli yelped, and then there was silence.

  “Eli!” Harper yelled.

  She glanced down at the others and quickly climbed onto the ceiling tiles. She snaked across the plywood. Cobwebs stuck to her hair. Her elbows and knees hit against the wood as the bridge curved at hard angles. The rifle wobbled on her back. Soon, her eyes acclimated to the darkness, but touch became her dominating sense. Up ahead, a pool of light streamed up from the broken tile. Harper quieted her movement until only the sound of the creaking boards remained. As she neared the patch of light, Harper slid the rifle from her back to her hands.

  “Eli,” she whispered. Her index finger switched the safety off.

  Slowly, her gun’s barrel edged over the hole where the planks had ended. Following the firearm, Harper snuck a peek. An unseen flame cast an orange glow over the room. The broken tile had shattered into fiber chunks directly below her. A small, broken plank rested on top of the pile. A shred of Eli’s shirt was snagged on the wood’s jagged break.

  Her son was nowhere to be seen.

  Harper whispered Eli’s name a second time. Her heart pounded. An elongated shadow expanded across the lime-green tile floor. Her finger slid over the trigger. The shadow stopped right out of view. Then her son appeared.

  With wide eyes and a smudge of dirt on his cheek, he looked up at her. “You’re going to want to see this.”

  He left her view, leaving his distorted shadow behind.

  Harper let out a sigh of relief, then she removed her finger from the smooth trigger. She slung the rifle over her back, twisted herself around, and gently lowered herself feet first. The board trembled beneath her palms, but she landed without issue.

  The room was long like the barbershop and housed tiers of wooden shelves covered with clay flowerpots. Faded brown garden soil clumped in some parts of the tile flooring. At the front end of the shop, plywood sheets covered the windows and door. Harper twisted around to her son. He stood over organized piles of suitcases, duffel bags, milk crates, and large flowerpots packed with canned food, water bottles, medical supplies, alcohol, baseball bats, and more alcohol.

  Jackpot.

  They exchanged looks and then embraced each other with a warm hug. Harper looked at the candle that was nothing more than a flaming wick sticking out of a puddle of wax.

  “Did you light the candle?” she asked.

  “No, but I did do a quick sweep.”

  Harper pulled away. Readying her weapon, she scanned the flower shop. The main room offered nothing in terms of cover, so she moved to the second door in the back. Standing with her back pressed beside the doorframe, she turned the knob and flung it open. No shotgun blasted. With silent steps, she swiftly turned and entered the backroom. More shelves of supplies lined the room. Similar to the barbershop, a shotgun taped to a chair aimed at a red door leading outside. Tucked in the corner was a wide platform truck used for carrying goods.

  “Someone was here,” she told Eli, examining the un-trapped trigger. “They left out this door. That candle could’ve been burning for a minute or a few days.”

  Harper opened the red door and looked out into an alleyway. A gust sent a plastic bag dancing by her. If not for her pulled-back ponytail, her bangs would’ve gotten into her eyes. Aiming the rifle, she scouted out the rooftops. Without seeing any sign of movement, she returned indoors.

  “Start stacking supplies.” She pointed to the flat-surfaced platform truck. “I’ll tell the others.”

  Standing on a chair, she peered her head up through ceiling and yelled out to the others. They replied to her quickly, and she gave them the lowdown. Circling around the side of the building, Charlie, Dustin, and Levi met Harper in the alleyway.

  “You didn’t see anything, right?” she asked.

  The men shook their heads and went inside. Not wasting time gawking, they filled the cart until th
e stacks had trouble balancing. Then they stuffed up their backpacks with pounds of items. By the time they were overly encumbered, there were still milk crates and flowerpots overflowing with supplies. Cutting the shotgun free with her knife, Harper stabilized it on the top of the pile. They started out the back red door and into the alley. Charlie pushed the cart while Harper and the others acted as guards. The front wheel spun rapidly as they raced the cart toward the main street. Canned green beans and bottles of whiskey rattled whenever they bumped over cracked concrete.

  “You really hit the gold mine, Harper,” Levi said as he jogged toward the alley’s threshold.

  Harper followed a few feet behind him with a sly smile. The four o'clock sun kissed her face through the alley’s gateway. She squinted to stifle the sunlight.

  A red block dropped from the blue sky, plummeting before her eyes, and whacked Levi in the side of the head. A quick splash of blood flew from his skull. The bearded man staggered. His gun went off, discharging the howling bullet into the concrete a yard from him. Losing his footing, Levi smashed into the building’s wall and sunk to the ground.

  The cart came to a sudden halt, spilling the top layer of supplies in a frenzy of clinks and clatters. Cans and bottles rolled past Harper’s feet. She shot a quick glance to her limp comrade, the bloody brick next him, and the unkempt woman on the rooftop. Bug eyed, with an uncombed mop of soot-covered hair, the woman let out a harrowing shriek. Before Harper could react, pitter-pattering sounded on the two three-story buildings surrounding her. Shadows overtook them. On the rooftops, hordes of drably dressed vagrants howled. They raised their brick-clenching dirty hands to the sky and rained down a storm of red bricks.

  A deafening shotgun blast thundered past Harper as she covered her head with her forearms and rifle and pressed against the wall. The crazed woman’s chest cavity exploded into a frenzy of blood and bone shards that dribbled down on Dustin's cap and right ear. Without hesitation, he ran out of the alley, red clay shattering on the ground around him.