No Power: EMP Post Apocalyptic Fiction Thriller Super Boxset

by J. S. Donvan Donvan

  “We’re not stopping. I want to make it back to town before sunrise.”

  Wren gestured to Reuben. “He won’t make it at this pace. He’s hurt. Let me take a look at him.” It was all she could think of to do. If she could get close to him, then maybe they could come up with something.

  “Learned some new tricks, did you?” Ted asked.

  “A few.” Wren wasn’t sure if Reuben planned it, but the moment the words left her mouth, he stumbled to his knees. She stopped, stepping between Ted and Reuben. “We’ll make better time if you let me look at him.”

  Ted paused, examining her like a rancher purchasing cattle at auction. Once finished, he moved close enough for her to smell the stench of his breath. “Make a move, and you’ll have to crawl your way back to town.” He gestured toward Reuben then backed off.

  Wren helped Reuben to a rock, Ted close behind, the gun on them the entire time. Just before he sat down, they exchanged a look. She set him down easily on the rock, and he cradled his ribs with his arm protectively, sucking in short, quick breaths. She placed her hand over the same area, and he shook his head. She furrowed her brow, trying to make sense of the request. She glided her hands to his shoulder, and again he shook his head.

  “My hip,” Reuben said, the words coming out like a whisper. “It hurts on my hip.”

  She fumbled her fingers over his hip and felt something hard over his waist, but when she lifted his shirt, she only saw a belt.

  “Yeah,” Reuben said, nodding. “Right there.”

  She ran her fingers over the area but felt nothing but the stiff leather.

  “No, lower.” Reuben grimaced, doing his best to sell the ruse.

  Wren glided her nails under the belt, and Reuben nodded, grunting. She felt a small bump, and when she picked it with her nail, she felt something give way. It was no bigger than her thumb, and she quickly concealed it in her fist, hoping Ted hadn’t seen.

  “Well?” Ted asked, tapping his boot impatiently. “What’s the diagnosis, doctor?” He spewed the words condescendingly, complementing them with a light chuckle.

  Wren stood. “Nothing feels dislocated.” She looked Reuben in the eye. “But we need to slow the pace so it doesn’t worsen.” She tucked the small object between the coarse rope and the tender flesh of her wrist before she turned around and was met with the stare of a rifle barrel.

  Ted eyed her through the sight. “From this range, there wouldn’t be anything left of the top of your head. It’d be blown clean off, splattered all over your friend.” He twitched his finger over the trigger and made a fake gunshot noise with his mouth.

  Wren’s mouth went dry as she tried to swallow. “I’m sure the boys back in town would be disappointed.” She remained rigid, a sudden itch begging to be scratched under the rope on her left wrist.

  Ted cracked a smile and lowered the rifle. “I know they would.”

  Once they started their journey again, Reuben returned to his isolation, ignoring her, but keeping up the limp. She knew he really was hurt, and didn’t think he’d be able to do much when she made her move. She kept her hands low and out of sight as best as she could. She practiced wiggling the piece she’d taken from Reuben’s belt down the flesh of her wrist and into her palm. She examined it in quick glances, doing her best to not draw attention to herself. One of the edges of the square piece opened and revealed a small razor blade, only about half the size of her pinky. The way it was tucked into his belt, she understood why Ted didn’t find it during his search. She gently touched the tip of the pointed edge with her finger, and even with the lightest pressure, she drew blood. A few stabs at the neck, and he’d be dead.

  After a while, the quick glances Wren cast to Reuben transformed into long stares the farther they walked. And with the grey of dawn lighting the sky, and judging by the distance they’d covered, she knew they had to be close to the town. But not once did Reuben stop, nor did Ted lower the rifle. He kept it tucked under his shoulder, his aim switching between the two of them.

  They ascended a small hill. Ahead was a cluster of trees on either side, the only way through a narrow path that would force them into a single-file line. Reuben slowed his pace and fell in behind Wren. Her boots crunched loudly on twigs, dead leaves, and dirt, but the only thing she heard was the steady thump of her pulse. She uncurled her fingers from the small blade, gripping it between some of the calluses that had sprouted on her hands since she’d left Chicago. The hands holding the weapon no longer felt like her own. They’d grown tan and rough and more accustomed to holding a gun than a pen.

  Once they reached the path’s narrowest point, Ted complained of Reuben’s pace. She glanced behind her and saw the hermit hunched over on his knees, groaning and wheezing. If he was faking it, Wren couldn’t tell.

  “Hey!” Ted said, pointing the rifle at her. “I don’t need you trying to run off anywhere.”

  Reuben looked up from his knees, the same cold hardness in his eyes from when they first met stared back at her. Then, without a word, Reuben flung himself backward, knocking into Ted and sending both of them to the ground. Ted and Reuben grappled over dirt and rocks, but with the hermit’s injuries, he did little more than sit down, and Ted easily knocked him aside.

  In the same instant, Wren sprinted forward, her fingers tight around the blade. The fatigue caused the ground underneath to swallow her legs like quicksand. Wren raised her fists together, bound in rope, the tiny tip of the blade aimed for the vein pulsing on Ted’s neck, but as she brought the weight of all her force down, Ted blocked her blow with the rifle’s barrel, her arms clanging against the weapon’s iron. One quick swipe and the rifle’s smacked across her face, knocking her to the dirt and the blade from her hand. She scrambled to all fours, disoriented from the blow, searching the dirt for the weapon. A sudden crack smacked under her chin and popped her head up, knocking loose a tooth and filling her mouth with blood. The world spun, and her vision blacked in and out and then fell into shades of grey.

  “You stupid bitch!”

  A pair of hands wrapped around the back of her neck and twisted her violently to her side. A sudden jab of pain connected with her ribs and rippled through her body, knocking the breath from her lungs. She gasped for air as another blow struck her lower back. She flailed her arms and legs flimsily in a poor attempt at retaliation, but her strikes did little to lessen her attacker’s blows.

  Dizzied with pain, Wren rolled to her back and watched Ted tie Reuben to the tree, his face covered with a fresh coat of blood. She pushed herself from the ground but collapsed. She shut her eyes, trying to control her breathing, which only worsened the pain in her chest. Hands gripped her once more, and she opened her eyes.

  Ted flung her against a tree trunk, the jagged bark digging into her back, and the knifelike pain in her stomach intensified. “That was easily one of the dumbest mistakes you’ve ever made.” Ted slapped his hand across the right side of her face, knocking Wren’s head hastily to the side. The red print of his palm formed on her cheek and burned like fire. “The boys aren’t gonna be happy with me after this, but you know what?” He paused, leaning in closer. “They’re so depraved, they’ll fuck anything I toss them so long as it’s still alive.”

  The next punch connected with her eye. The force of the blow slammed the back of her skull into the tree, and she collapsed. She raised her hands in a poor attempt to defend herself, but two more shots to the face, and the strength in her arms gave out. She felt the next few hits, but after that everything went numb. Suddenly she became aware of Reuben, still tied to the tree. He was screaming, his throat raw, fighting against the ropes binding him to the tree like a madman. And then the world went black.

  Chapter 9

  It started with a dull ache, slowly waking her from the restless coma. But once the dullness had passed, the pain grew sharper and spread. Everywhere. The swelling had ballooned her face, nearly making her unrecognizable. When she grazed her cheek, she winced. It even hurt to blink. But wh
en she looked down at her hands, she suddenly realized they were no longer bound. Though the pain coursing through her veins was just as paralyzing.

  She pushed herself up from the concrete and leaned against the wall. Her spine and joints cracked. The simple movement left her exhausted. She looked down at her clothes and scrunched her face in confusion at the light-green sundress with a floral pattern around the bottom hem. The fabric was weightless and revealing. Her shoulders and back were bare, save for the bruises and scratches. What was meant to entice lust only revealed the abuse she’d sustained.

  The unfamiliarity of her surroundings triggered panic. She rose to her feet, driving her heels into the floor, and what felt like shards of broken glass shredded her insides. The pain pulled her back to the concrete. She tried again, making it a few inches farther before falling once more.

  “I know it’s painful.”

  Wren jerked her head to the right. A man stood by a door, his face blurred beyond recognition. But the voice. The voice sounded familiar.

  “You shouldn’t have angered me like that.” The blurred figure stepped forward. “You shouldn’t have tried to escape.”

  Lightning struck Wren’s mind. The forest. The knife. Ted. The pain. The fear. Reuben. Another stab tore through her as she gasped. Reuben.

  “My goodness, you look even worse up close.” Ted crouched to meet her at eye level then pulled his collar down and exposed his neck. “I didn’t escape without my scars either. You nearly ripped out my jugular, and Reuben did the same.” Her flinch betrayed her thoughts, and Ted answered the very question running through her mind. “He’s not here, Wren. But don’t worry. You’ll see him soon.”

  Wren attempted to speak, but the words were choked from her before they had a chance to be heard. Her jaw was swollen and stiff with the rest of her, but after she gathered some strength, she cracked the corner of her mouth open. “Let him go.”

  Ted laughed. “The two of you are quite the dynamic. You know he said the same thing about you when we got here?” He gently pinched the end of her dress, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. “You should have heard him scream when I beat you. It was like I was hitting him. I didn’t realize you two were that close.” Ted rose, stalking around Wren slowly. “He’s big, but he doesn’t seem your type, though to be fair, I actually don’t know your type. Perhaps you don’t even know yourself. Stemming from the divorce you were planning on dragging your husband through, I would say that would be a valid point.” He gently rubbed the scratch on his neck, stretching his jaw, flexing the wound.

  As Wren’s vision cleared, Ted’s features crystallized. The soiled clothes had been exchanged for a new button-up shirt and pants, complemented with a pair of dress shoes that clacked loudly as he walked, and he had combed his hair.

  He caught her examining his clothes, and he spread his arms and smiled. “You like it? I never found the wear of tactical clothing stylish, nor did I believe that the end of the world meant I needed to sacrifice some of the finer things in life. And of course today was a special occasion, what with your grand return.” He looked past her thoughtfully at the closed door. “The men were so excited to see you. But don’t worry,” he added quickly, “I didn’t let them lay a hand on you.”

  The left dress strap on her shoulder fell halfway down her arm, and Ted knelt and dangled it from his index finger. “Though I did have to give them something. I wasn’t sure if they were more excited to see you with or without the dress on.”

  His laugh triggered shudders through her body, and she looked away, grinding her teeth, using the pain as a distraction from the nightmares to come. With her body broken, she felt the slow dissolve of her will.

  “Wren, Wren, Wren, Wren.” Ted repeated her name as though he were speaking to a child. “I know the end is difficult to bear.” He nodded, the affirmation akin to a principal counseling a student. “But we are broken down and rebuilt to return stronger than before. It’s something I’ve done to all of the men that work for me. And I can tell you none of them were half as difficult to break as you’ve proved to be. I hope that’s some comfort to you.”

  Wren watched him smile, the missing tooth she’d knocked out the only missing element in his otherwise perfect ensemble. “If you keep me alive…” She took a hard swallow, her belly growing full of her own blood as she forced her jaw open wider. “I will kill you.”

  The smile vanished from Ted’s face. “And I promise you that by the time my men have had their fun, you won’t be able to sit for a week.” He yanked her up by the back of her hair, her body spasming in defiance as he dragged her through the room then out the door, where she was blinded by sunlight.

  Dust flew from the ground as Ted dragged her across the gravel. Wren choked on the dirt and grit that filled her nose and mouth. When he finally released her, her head smacked against the ground, sending another stab of pain that ran from the base of her skull and crept down her spine. She rolled to her right, her ear catching the sound of raucous shouting. At first she thought the maddened hysteria was for her. But when she lifted her head, she saw that the men’s attention was elsewhere.

  “C’mon,” Ted said. “Let’s go see how your boyfriend is faring.” He forced her up, and Wren hobbled forward, wincing with every step. Every breath felt like stabs of glass shards. Ted forced his way into the circle, the men giving way.

  The half-dozen men that remained in Ted’s gang leered at Wren as she passed. The massacre at the cabin Reuben and she had unleashed had depleted his forces. And if she had it her way, the rest of them wouldn’t be around for much longer either. Wren shifted and turned, ineffectively fending off their hands as they reached for whatever part of her they desired. As much pain as her face and body were in, none of it compared to the screaming madness that was her dignity. The bodies of men finally ended, and Wren had a front-row seat to the source of the chaos.

  Reuben lay on his back, panting, heaving his chest up and down. His arms and legs lay spread out, and his entire body was covered in dust. Flashes of red glimmered when he moved, and fresh blood gushed from the cuts along his face, offering a glaring contrast to the black and grey that covered the majority of his clothes. He rolled to his side, and Wren wasn’t even sure if he saw her or not, but he stumbled to his feet, much to the crowd’s chagrin.

  The man who was in the ring with Reuben threw his hands up in defeat. The contender bowed out and was replaced with another man from the circle. He raised his fists, dancing around Reuben, who couldn’t even raise his own hands to defend himself. The fighter taunted Reuben, sending light jabs into his stomach and face, Reuben’s delayed reactions too slow to dodge the attacks.

  Wren tried to step forward in the ring, but Ted pulled her back by the thick of her hair. “You’ll get your turn soon enough.”

  The fighter ended the taunts and landed a vicious blow to Reuben’s right cheek, knocking the big man to the ground. Wren’s stomach tightened as he watched his arms and legs spasm in the dirt. Stay down. But her heart sank as she watched Reuben push himself to his knees, the dirt caked around his mouth so thickly that with every exhale a fine cloud of dust erupted from his lips, then spit a fresh wad of blood. Just before Reuben had a leg under him, the fighter drove the tip of his boot under Reuben’s chin, and the crack of bone broke through the thunderous roar of the crowd.

  Wren shuddered, and she looked away, thinking that Reuben’s jaw had shattered. But the clamoring ruckus soon turned to laughter as the fighter who’d kicked Reuben’s jaw bounced awkwardly on one foot, cursing as he hopped out of the ring.

  Ted slapped her back, and she jolted forward. “I have to say, even I’m impressed. The man is built like a tank. You know he’s been in that ring for the past two hours? The moment we stepped into town, I let the boys have him. I can’t believe he’s lasted this long. Though he does have some powerful motivation. Hell, the guys could get tired before he does!”

  Just lie down, Reuben. Don’t do this to yourself anymore. But Reuben
rolled to his stomach, his arms trembling as he pushed himself from the dirt, blood drooling from his mouth. Wren spun around and gripped Ted by the shoulders. She forced her mouth open, every syllable spoken a challenge. “Please. Let him go.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I made a deal with him, and despite what you may think of me, I’m a man who honors commitment.” Ted removed her hands and turned her back to the scene as another fighter stepped in. But this time Reuben lingered on the ground. She listened to the pain-induced gasps wheezing with every breath. He looked over to her direction, and for the first time since she arrived, they made eye contact. She shook her head, trying to tell him to stop. But Reuben looked away, pushed himself off the ground, and faced yet another opponent.

  Wren cringed with every blow. The crack of bone against bone thundered between applause and chants. All of them egged on the new fighter to end it, all of them wishing for victory and the hermit’s death.

  “Do you want to know the deal I made with him before he stepped into that bloodbath?” Ted asked, whispering into her ear. “I told him that as long as he fights in that ring, the men won’t be able to touch you. It’s quite admirable, really. I certainly wouldn’t have let myself be pummeled to death for your sake. Hell, I probably would have joined in on the fun.”

  Wren’s blood ran colder with every blow Reuben received. Every hit he took, she felt in her bones. He doesn’t have to do this. Not for me. A fist landed against Reuben’s ribcage, and Wren tightened her stomach. The next combination rocked his head left to right, then right to left, and Wren’s head ached. An uppercut struck him on the chin, flinging him to his back, and Wren’s body numbed.

  A cheer erupted from the crowd. “The men are particularly riled up after a fight,” Ted said, keeping the distance between them as intimate as he could without touching her. “I hope you’re ready for what’s coming.”