Our Survival: A Collection of Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thrillers

by Williams, Ron

  “STOP YOUR VEHICLE!” Butler’s voice BOOMED through a loudspeaker across the field. “WE HAVE YOUR MAN!”

  Barry hit the brakes.

  The militia members now began emptying out of the vehicles and formed a line around seventy five yards away from the Parkers. There were around fifty of them all in all.

  “Turn off the car, dad,” the wavering voice of Bruce told Barry. “They have Rob.”

  Barry did so. Bruce, Marcus, Thomas, Claire, and Jane jumped out of the bed in the Hi-Lux with their guns. Susan remained crouched in the bed behind them, while Barry, Christine, and Angela stayed in the front of the truck.

  “I repeat, we have your man!” Butler’s voice boomed again across the field through the speaker. “You see him?!”

  “We see him!” Bruce shouted back.

  “Do you know who I am?!” Butler asked to no response from any of the family members, even though Thomas knew very well who he was. “I’m Lewis Butler, leader of the Compound! And we’re all here for revenge for what happened to my son!”

  “Your son drew on us first!” Thomas shouted back.

  “LIAR!” Butler screamed, his determined voice piercing the eardrums of everyone else there. “Every one of you will drop your weapons and surrender right now, or else we kill your man!”

  Butler grabbed Robert from Gale and threw him down to his knees in front of him. Robert winced in pain from the gunshot wound in his leg.

  “You are impossibly outnumbered!” Butler yelled. “There is no way out of this for all of you! Either you surrender peacefully, or I kill him and you all die in a hail of bullets!”

  Butler drew his sidearm, the SIG .45, and aimed it to the back of Robert’s head.

  “Robert, are you alright?!” Claire shouted to her husband.

  “Don’t do what they say, they’ll just kill all of you anyway!” Robert shouted back.

  “Shut up!” Butler said, and pistol whipped Robert across the back of the head.

  Marcus and Claire raised their AR-15s, and Bruce his scoped .30-06, but Thomas and Jane were armed with only handguns that would be ineffective for a shootout across the field.

  “Mom, hand us a couple rifles back there,” Thomas said sternly.

  Susan, scared, handed a Ruger 10/22 .22 to Jane and a Mosin Nagant M44 carbine to Thomas. Now armed with rifles, they lined back up with Marcus, Claire, and Bruce.

  It was now a true stand off: Butler, Gale, Mitchum, and the rest of the militia members on one side of the field, and Thomas, Jane, Marcus, Bruce, and Claire on the other with Barry, Christine, Angela, and Susan in the car behind them.

  “What’s it gonna be?!” Butler asked.

  “Leave Robert, and get outta here!” Marcus shouted. “We never wanted this!”

  “You know that is not an option!” Butler responded. “My son and a lot more of our people are now dead because of all of you!”

  “Leave right now, turn around, and none of us have to die!” Bruce backed up his brother Marcus.

  It was hard for Bruce to see his son Robert on his knees and at the end of a gun barrel, but he kept the crosshairs of his scope trained steady on Butler.

  “This is your last chance!” said Butler. “Either you all die, or you all surrender!”

  Butler cocked the hammer on his SIG .45 and held the muzzle just inches away from the back of Robert’s head.

  “You heard him!” Gale had his Mini-14 raised and aimed at the Parker family. “Surrender or die!”

  “I’m going to count to three!” Butler had had enough. “ONE!”

  “Let him go!” Bruce insisted.

  “TWO!”

  Robert closed his eyes, accepting his fate that he knew was about to come.

  “LET HIM GO!” Bruce, Marcus, Thomas, Jane, and Claire all yelled in vain at once.

  “THREE!”

  BANG!

  Butler fired the .45!

  The family all watched in absolute horror as Robert fell forward in what to them seemed like slow motion. He was Bruce and Angela’s son, Jane’s brother, Claire’s husband… and in the blink of an eye, he had just been shot in the back of the head and taken from them.

  Chaos ensued:

  “NO!” Claire screamed and began firing her AR-15 rapidly, instantly cutting down two militia members.

  Bruce, seeing his son fall, squeezed the trigger on his .3o-06. Butler had been right in his sights and the bullet struck him in the shoulder.

  Butler crashed back against the front of a vehicle from the impact of the bullet and then crumpled to the ground.

  “Dad!” Gale saw his father fall and in a rage began emptying his Mini-14 across the field.

  Marcus and Claire fired their ARs at the militia members in a rapid and yet controlled fashion, taking them out one at a time.

  Bruce fired his .30-06, racked another round into the chamber, and fired again, bringing down a militia member with each shot.

  Thomas’ rate of fire was slower due to his injured hands, but he managed to fire and work the bolt on the old Mosin, succeeding in bringing down another militia member as well.

  Jane’s 10/22 spat the little .22s into the night, striking several of the militia members and wounding them.

  Several of the militia members fired back, but most of them instantly dropped for cover in the tall grass of the field or hid behind the vehicles. As before, they were hardly disciplined or fit to fight.

  “Cowards!” Butler yelled from the ground as he clutched his wounded shoulder with one hand and fired away with his pistol with the other. “Fire back, we can kill ‘em all right now!”

  Mitchum emptied the clip of his SKS, inserted a fresh stripper clip, and began firing again. Gale blasted away with his Mini-14.

  “Let’s go!” Barry yelled over the gunfire. “We’re outnumbered, let’s go!”

  Marcus and Claire ejected the magazines on their ARs, reloaded fresh ones, and resumed firing. Marcus had already brought down four militia members, and Claire five.

  Bruce fired the last shot out of his .30-06, taking out yet another militia member, and then drew his Colt .45 and continued firing even though the Compound’s forces were far out of effective pistol range.

  “Let’s go!” Barry cried out again, incoming bullets whizzing over their heads and some striking the Hi-Lux.

  Even though several more militia members had been already killed or wounded, most of the surviving ones were now returning fire from their positions of cover.

  “We gotta go!” Thomas yelled over the gunfire, seeing that the tide was about to be turned.

  He and Jane jumped up into the back of the Hi-Lux, where they continued to fire on the militia members.

  Claire, through tears, continued to fire her AR-15 until it clicked empty and she had no spare magazines. She turned to join the others.

  Marcus and Bruce’s weapons also clicked empty and they turned to jump into the back of the Hi-Lux as well. With everybody in, Barry slammed his foot down over the gas pedal and they took off down the road.

  Gale, Mitchum, and the militia members continued to fire after them.

  One stray bullet struck Bruce in the lower calf near the ankle.

  “AH!” Bruce yelled and almost fell out of the bed, but Thomas managed to grasp his shirt collar and hold onto him.

  Marcus drew his Glock .40 and continued to fire on the militia members, but a bullet from Gale’s rifle flew through the air like a missile and struck him in the shoulder.

  Marcus fell back in the bed as Barry managed to swing around a corner and they disappeared from the point of view of the militia members, officially ceding their property and the cabin.

  “Cease firing, cease firing!” Gale ordered, and the gunfire from the militia members came to a halt.

  Butler was on the ground and clutching the bullet wound in his shoulder with one hand while clumsily trying to reload his pistol with his other.

  “Did we get any of ‘em?” he asked Gale.

  “At least two
were hit, maybe more,” Gale responded, reloading his own weapon.

  “We’re in no position to pursue,” said Mitchum. “A lot of us are wounded, gotta get back to the infirmary in the Compound right away.”

  Butler pulled himself to his feet. He could see perhaps a dozen militia members motionless in the grass around him and more were groaning from bullet wounds.

  From a strategic standpoint, they may have been successful in conquering the Parker’s cabin, but from a tactical point-of-view, Butler knew the mission had been an unmitigated disaster.

  Of the slightly over 100 militia members who had originally set out with him, two dozen were dead and twice as many had some form of wound or injury to some degree.

  Fortunately, there were hundreds of more armed militia members back at the Compound, so Butler took comfort in knowing that he had plenty of reinforcements and the Parkers had none at all.

  “Check their cabin for medical equipment,” said Butler, acting as if the bullet wound in his shoulder was nothing. “We’ll do what we can with the wounded. Mitchum, take four vehicles back to the Compound and gather reinforcements and anything to help the wounded. Be back here in twenty four hours. This is enough fighting for tonight, but this thing sure as hell isn’t over. We will pursue the Parkers until they are all dead.”

  As the militia members began to tend to the wounded and obey his orders, Butler turned to face Robert’s body on the ground.

  In an uncontrollable fury building up inside of him, and to the surprise of everyone else, Butler raised his pistol and squeezed the trigger repeatedly into Robert’s body until every last round in the magazine had been spent.

  Chapter Twenty

  The Forest

  Being blindfolded, Randall had no idea of where Joe and his gang were taking him.

  After he had surrendered himself in exchange for Jane’s life, a bandana was wrapped around his eyes and he was then led away at gunpoint.

  Even though Randall didn’t know where they were taking him, he did know that they were going uphill, and he also knew they were walking through the trees due to the branches that he was repeatedly running into.

  “Move it!” barked Joe and forcefully shoved Randall along.

  There were five members in the gang all together: Joe, Duncan, and two other men and a woman. All looked to be in their 20s and 30s.

  Randall thought that if he had any chance of escaping this gang, it would have to be due to Duncan’s help. He could tell that Duncan sympathized with him the most, as the others had seemed to be as tough looking as Joe due with the quick glimpses he had gotten before being blindfolded.

  Furthermore, Randall knew that Duncan had tried to explain to Joe that Alexandra had held him and Robert at gunpoint and was going to kill them, but Joe didn’t listen.

  After a good two hours of walking, they eventually came to some flat terrain and Randall was flung hard to the ground. His blindfold was removed and he was at long last able to look around: it was dawn and they were in a campsite in the middle of the woods on a hill.

  No less than four tents were set up at the campsite with a campfire in the middle. Randall could also hear a running stream from somewhere.

  “Welcome to our camp,” said Joe, and then kicked Randall in the stomach.

  Randall grimaced in pain.

  “We’ve kept you alive and will continue to keep you alive for one very simple reason,” Joe continued. “You work for us now. Oh, except you’re not gonna be getting paid anything either, so it’s not like how work used to be.”

  “What am I, your slave now?” Randall asked, looking around and looking for a possible escape route.

  “You could think of it that way,” said Joe with a shrug.

  Randall looked at the other members of the gang. In addition to Duncan and Joe, there was one man in his late 20s with numerous tattoos on his neck, face, and arms, and then there were a man and a woman in their early 30s who looked to be a couple. All of them were as tough looking as Joe, except for Duncan, who just stood meekly off to the side.

  “Here’s how it’s gonna work,” Joe went on. “You will do anything and everything we tell you to. You will collect firewood for us. You will fish for us. You will grow seeds for us. You will clean our clothes for us. You will cook our meals for us and gather our water for us. Whatever we tell you to do, you will do it…for us.”

  Joe paced around Randall on the ground, while the others remained standing still and watching.

  “But it’s not all bad for you,” said Joe. “Because if you do each and every thing we tell you to do, guess what? You can eat…a little. You can have water…a little. And you can sleep…also a little. So really, this isn’t that bad of a deal for you, because we’re letting you stay alive when we could just as easily put a bullet in your head. If that’s not generous, I don’t know what is.”

  Joe stopped pacing.

  “But before we put you to work, introductions would be good,” said Joe, suddenly assuming a friendly tone. “As you know I’m Joe, and you’ve already met Duncan obviously.”

  Joe pointed to the man with all the tattoos.

  “This here is Spence,” Joe said, and then he pointed to the couple. “And these two love birds here are Greg and Sara. Hopefully you’ll remember everybody’s names. And I’m in charge, alright? This is my group. I’m the one who brought us together and provided most of our resources, so I have the final say in everything, alright?”

  “Alright,” Randall replied, deliberately using as few words as possible.

  Randall couldn’t help but notice how proud Joe felt of his little group and his four tent encampment. It must have made him feel like a ruler or a king of an entire country.

  “Now, I’m sure you’re only thinking of one thing now,” Joe continued with his little speech. “And that of course is escape. I get it. We don’t exactly have a dungeon to lock you in here, and there’s only five of us. I’m sure you’ve already thought of at least fifty different scenarios where you could try and get away, right?”

  Randall said nothing. He figured that under the present conditions, staying quiet was the only thing he could do to show he wasn’t weak.

  “Well obviously, you trying to escape is not something we are willing to tolerate, just like we won’t tolerate you trying to fight back,” Joe went on. “So if you ever resist, and if you ever try to escape and we catch you, you lose a finger. It’s as simple as that. Non-negotiable. No questions asked. And once you lose all your fingers, we move onto your toes. And once you lose all of those, you can figure out where we’ll go from there. Comprende amigo?”

  Randall simply nodded his head.

  “Good,” said Joe.

  Joe walked into one of the tents and came back out with a shovel. He threw it down next to Randall.

  With an evil grin, he said, “Now get to work. We got a lot of stuff for you to do.”

  * * *

  It was daylight when Barry had brought the Hi-Lux to a stop at a crossroads and the rest of the Parkers emptied out.

  Marcus and Bruce had both been hit, in the shoulder and calf respectively, and had their wounds covered up with torn clothes acting as bandages and tourniquets. But it was only a temporary solution, and they all knew they would need professional medical help quickly, or else dangerous infections could set in that would be life threatening.

  The entire family was sad and downtrodden at the death of Robert, especially Bruce, Angela, Claire, and Jane. None of them had said a word about it since parking the vehicle and tending to the wounds of Marcus and Bruce.

  It was Thomas who broke the silence about it first.

  “Robert’s death was not in vain,” he said. “If he hadn’t held them off for as long as he did, we may all be dead. He saved our lives.”

  Claire was already in tears and Thomas’ words made her break down sobbing.

  Thomas set a hand on her shoulder and then said, “he’s a hero and always will be remembered as one.”

 
The family gathered in a circle and Barry, struggling to hold back tears himself, spoke a thoughtful prayer for Robert. It was the closest thing to a funeral they could do.

  Once the prayer was over, Marcus, his wounded arm in a crudely made sling, turned to Jane.

  “Jane, where’s Randall?”

  Marcus’ voice was firm and unyielding because he was afraid the same thing had happened to his son that had happened to Robert.