No Power: EMP Post Apocalyptic Fiction Thriller Super Boxset

by J. S. Donvan Donvan

  She found herself running into her mother’s arms, feeling the embrace and warmth she hadn’t allowed herself to feel for what felt like a very, very long time.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart,” Anne whispered.

  Kalen squeezed her mother tighter and could feel Freddy coming in on the side of her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She held the back of his head and just allowed herself to be vulnerable again.

  Once she finally gathered the strength to let go, Kalen wiped her eyes on her shirt and Anne examined the stitches on her forehead.

  “What happened?” Anne asked.

  “The bridge we were sent to take over was destroyed. Dad was on the other side when it blew. I don’t know if—”

  Kalen cut herself off. Freddy was looking up at her with the fearful eyes of a child, wanting to know more, but afraid of what that knowledge meant.

  “They don’t know when we’ll be able to cross the river to get him back. They don’t have any boats prepared,” Kalen said.

  “There’s no other way across?” Anne asked.

  “No, the other bridges were blown up a while ago. I guess the rebels wanted to bottleneck everyone. Have one way in, and one way out.”

  Kalen could see the same words Blake had said etched across her mother’s face. The chances of her dad being alive were slim, and even if he was, there wasn’t a guarantee they could get him back.

  ***

  Mike’s head was pounding and he was drifting in and out of consciousness. He caught glimpses of different images when he was able to keep his eyes open. Brick walls, people in surgical masks, soldiers with rifles—all appeared and disappeared.

  When Mike finally came to he was in a bed. His head was still pounding and when he tried to touch his forehead, he realized both of his hands were restrained. His feet were also tied down around the ankles.

  He strained against the cuffs, but he couldn’t break them. There was an IV set up next to him and he could hear voices just behind the curtain accompanied by footsteps. Mike’s heart pounded harder with each step and when the curtain finally swung open a doctor with a clipboard was looking down at him.

  “How are you feeling?” the doctor asked.

  “The bridge. What happened to the other soldiers on the bridge?”

  “Calm down. You’re going to be all right, but you need to rest.”

  Mike started thrashing violently against the restraints, shaking the entire bed.

  “My daughter! Where’s my daughter?”

  “Nurse, sedate him.”

  The nurse shoved the needle into Mike’s arm and he could feel a weightlessness fall over him. The faces staring down at him dissolved as he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

  ***

  When Mike woke again he was still in the hospital room, but this time the curtain had been flung open and he was in the room by himself. There were two other empty beds with their sheets neatly made.

  The drugs had left him tired, woozy. He was having a hard time concentrating.

  “Hello.”

  The voice was cordial, but firm. The figure Mike was staring at in the doorway was blurry. He could tell that he was in a suit, but he couldn’t see the features of his face.

  “I apologize for what happened earlier. It’s not something I wanted to do, but my men told me you were being very… difficult.”

  The old man moved to the foot of the bed. Mike could make out his face now. It was kind, but weary. Lines of stress creased along his forehead, under his eyes, and along his mouth.

  Mike shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He recognized the old man, but he couldn’t remember from where. Whatever drugs they had him on were fogging his mind. Mike checked his limbs. He was still tied down.

  “What happened to the other soldiers on the bridge?” Mike asked.

  “Most of them survived the blast, but the bridge did not fare very well. It wasn’t a move we wanted to make. It hurt us just as much as it hurt you, but we couldn’t allow your men to advance.”

  Mike wasn’t sure how many questions he was going to get out of him, so he wanted to pick them carefully.

  “Where am I?” Mike asked.

  “You’re in south Cincinnati.”

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is Dr. Quinn Wyatt.”

  Chapter 10: Day 25 (Columbus)

  Beth watched Cain drive. She hadn’t taken her eyes off him since they left Carrollton. She was drawn to him in the most unexplainable way. Everything he did seemed so effortless yet calculated with tremendous intention.

  Cain kept his eyes on the road and hadn’t glanced her way the entire trip. In fact he hadn’t said a single word. She wasn’t sure if Joey had said anything. All she could focus on at the moment was what he made her do.

  Every once in a while she’d glance down at her hands and see the stains of blood, the blood of her son. It was dried now, flaking against her skin.

  She was indifferent to it all. Whatever, or whoever, she believed in before was a forgotten memory.

  Beth looked out the window. The street signs were signaling that they were close to Columbus. Then the car turned onto one of the exits for the city.

  “I thought we were going to Cincinnati?” Beth asked.

  “We’re just going to make a quick pit stop here,” Cain answered. He looked over to her for the first time on the trip and smiled. “I need to show off my new weapons.”

  Beth hadn’t been to any major city since she was a little girl. Her jaw dropped when they entered downtown Columbus. The skyscrapers and buildings towered over her. There were abandoned cars and trash everywhere. It looked like a war zone.

  They weaved in and out of the parked cars through the streets until they made it to a blockade of men with guns in uniform. Cain stopped the truck.

  “Stay here,” he said.

  The door slammed as he left and walked toward the soldier. He was greeted with a handshake and smile. He kept gesturing back to the truck and Beth could see the other soldier squinting into the window to get a look at her.

  Joey poked his head through the space between the two front seats.

  “What are we doing here?” Joey asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’m getting hungry.”

  “I’m sure we’ll eat something soon.”

  Once they were past the blockade the rest of the city seemed so neat. The cars had been cleared from the streets and the trash had been picked up. People were walking back and forth casually, as if nothing was wrong.

  In one of the windows of the stores they passed she could see a fan plugged in blowing air across someone’s face.

  “The power is on?” Beth asked.

  “What?” Joey said, jumping out of his seat.

  “Yes,” Cain said.

  “How?” Beth asked

  “We turned it on,” Cain said.

  They pulled into a space where some other military trucks were located. “City Hall” was printed across the sign in front of the building.

  There were more guards stationed at the entrance, and all of them saluted Cain as he passed them.

  Inside there were rooms filled with people. None of them had uniforms on. All of them were in regular street clothes, and they varied in age and ethnicity. Cain brought them to a room where most of the inhabitants were young men.

  “Wait here and I’ll come to collect you in a little while,” Cain said.

  Before Beth could say anything Cain closed the door. Two empty chairs were alone in the corner, so that’s where Beth and Joey headed.

  There were whispers as the two of them walked by, and understandably so. The men in the room looked strong, healthy. An old woman and young boy didn’t fit the room’s standard.

  Beth had no idea what’d she gotten herself into. For the first time since she left Carrollton she could feel doubt creep into her mind.

  ***

  Cain knocked on the office door and a hoarse voice greeted him from the other
side.

  “Enter!”

  The old man behind the desk looked up from his paperwork.

  “HA! Cain, my boy! I was starting to think you wouldn’t make it,” Major Griffin said.

  Griffin embraced Cain in a hug and Cain took a seat across from Griffin’s desk.

  “What took you so long?” Griffin asked.

  “I wanted to make sure that I got what we needed.”

  “Always the perfectionist. How many did you bring back?”

  “Two.”

  “Two? That’s it?”

  Cain nodded.

  “Jesus, Cain. Thompson brought back at least a dozen. You really couldn’t find any more than two?”

  “I found plenty, but I only found two that fit what we need.”

  “Well, they must be something. Nothing wrong with quality over quantity. Did you drop them off in the training room?”

  “Yes.”

  “The drills should be starting soon. Let’s go take a look.”

  Cain and Griffin snaked through the hallways. A few other soldiers joined them as they walked out the back and headed across the street. The group of recruits they brought in exited the side of the building and spilled into the training yard.

  The officers around Cain and Griffin pointed out the ones they recruited.

  “So where are yours, Cain?” Thompson asked.

  “There on the back corner,” Cain answered.

  Laughter rippled through the group, but Cain didn’t flinch.

  “Stopped at a daycare on your way in?” Thompson asked.

  Griffin grabbed Cain by the arm and leaned him in close.

  “Is this some kind of joke, Cain?” Griffin asked.

  “Just watch.”

  The group of recruits went through a few exercises on the field. Beth and Joey struggled with some of the drills, while the rest of the group brushed through them with ease. It went on like that for about an hour.

  After the final physical drills were completed, Thompson slapped Cain on the back.

  “We can’t all bring home winners,” Thompson said.

  “No, we can’t,” Cain said.

  The group of recruiters started to disperse and Griffin shook his head in disgust. Everyone had turned their backs to him.

  “Anyone care to place a small wager?” Cain asked.

  Thompson was the first to turn around.

  “And what’s the bet?” Thompson asked.

  “That my recruits can get the job done, but yours can’t.”

  “We’ve already seen what the recruits can and can’t do, Cain, but I’m always up for watching you embarrass yourself.”

  “Bring your two best recruits to the shooting range in an hour.”

  “What do you say, boys?” Thompson asked, glancing around at the other recruiters. “Anyone up for a little target practice?”

  ***

  When the hour was up the recruiters gathered their two best marksmen. It was an inside range, with targets set at different intervals. The first was close, only five yards out, but the farthest was thirty yards, used for rifle practice.

  It was decided that everyone would be using the same rifle for consistency. Thompson went to set the targets down the field but stopped, turning back to Cain.

  “Maybe we should start at the five-yard mark? That way your recruits have an easier time,” Thompson said.

  “The ten-yard mark will be fine, but I brought my own targets,” Cain said.

  Cain disappeared into one of the rooms. When he came back he was pulling the arm of a young woman. She was blindfolded and had a gag in her mouth. Cain stood her in front of the ten-yard target and whispered in her ear.

  “Stay still.”

  He gave her a kiss on the cheek and she shuddered as he removed the blindfold and pulled the wad of cloth out of her mouth.

  “What are you doing?” Griffin asked.

  “Winning a bet.”

  Cain brushed Griffin off and picked up the rifle.

  “First person to shoot wins,” Cain said.

  The only sound that was heard was the gasp from the woman. She was shaking. Tears were running down her face. She struggled for breath when she spoke, choking on her own spit.

  “P-please, d-don’t do th-this,” she said.

  “This is insane,” Thompson said.

  Thompson moved toward the girl and Cain aimed the barrel of the rifle at him. Thompson froze.

  “Out in the field we won’t be shooting thin sheets of paper with rings around them. We’ll be shooting people like her. People who oppose us and what we’re trying to build. Or did you forget that on your trip, Thompson?” Cain asked.

  Cain pressed the rifle’s barrel into Thompson’s chest.

  “This isn’t a rebuilding effort we’re putting together. We’re still tearing down the old country to make way for a new one. Where the weak-willed and weak-minded, people like that,” Cain said, pointing at the girl, “are no longer part of the problem.”

  The recruits started to speak out all at once.

  “I didn’t sign up for this.”

  “This is crazy.”

  “You can’t be serious?”

  Cain fired a round into the ceiling, silencing everyone. He motioned to Beth, who came over and grabbed the rifle from him.

  Beth aimed the rifle at the girl, who was screaming hysterically now. She kept backing up, pressing into the stand behind her, trying to dissipate through the wood and metal.

  “Fire,” Cain said.

  Beth squeezed the trigger. The bullet flew through the woman’s head and she hit the floor. The only sound after that was the bullet casing rolling on the concrete.

  Beth handed the rifle back to Cain and rejoined the other recruits. Cain kept the rifle in his hands and walked over to Thompson.

  “I win.”

  Chapter 11: Six Months After Blackout

  Dr. Wyatt’s palms were sweaty. It didn’t matter how many times he wiped them on his pants, they just wouldn’t dry. He’d been sitting in the interrogation room waiting, and dreading, for Ben to bring Mike through the door.

  When the door finally opened and Ben escorted Mike in, Dr. Wyatt’s insides twisted all at once.

  “I’m not speaking with him,” Mike said.

  “You can do whatever you want, but you’re in this room for the next twenty minutes,” Ben said.

  The chains around Mike’s ankles rattled against the floor when he walked.

  “You don’t need to keep those on him,” Dr. Wyatt said.

  “Yes, you do,” Mike replied.

  “I’ll be watching on the other side, so I don’t want anyone trying anything stupid,” Ben said.

  The door clicked shut after Ben left. Dr. Wyatt had rehearsed this moment in his head a million times. Each time he’d run through it there would be a different ending, but the moment he opened his mouth he couldn’t find the words he practiced.

  “What are you doing here?” Mike asked.

  “I’ve been trying to find you,” Dr. Wyatt said.

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “This isn’t your fault.”

  “Enough of it is.”

  Sweat was collecting under Wyatt’s arms. He undid the button on his collar, feeling the steam escape out of his shirt.

  “You’re punishing yourself for something you had nothing to do with,” Dr. Wyatt said.

  “But we both know why I’m here.”

  “Mike…”

  “You broke your promise, Doctor, so now I’m breaking mine,” Mike said.

  Dr. Wyatt said nothing. He simply rose from his seat, shaking slightly as he walked past Mike and out the door.

  Once he made it out of the interrogation room he ran for the bathroom. He shoved the stall door open and made it to the toilet just as the vomit sprayed from his mouth.

  One arm shook, resting on the toilet seat while he collapsed to the cold tile. He grabbed a piece of toilet paper and wiped his mouth.