by Newman, AJ
Every day Tom and the others would wade out into the clear cold water and swim to check and see how deep the water was at the deep end. They could see the marks on the canyon wall but wanted to test the depth on the way out.
Tom had Luke and Gerry make fish attractors from scrub pine bushes and anchor them down away from the swimming area to help the fish habitat. He even had hundreds of buckets of algae laced water brought up from one of the ponds at the back of the property. They had fishing tournaments and caught frogs to add the fish and amphibians to the new lake.
Tom was pleased that they were smiling much more and a hell of a lot happier as they settled into the boredom of a safe community. Tom waited for the next weekly community meeting to suggest an Independence Day Celebration. They knew they didn’t want rockets and fireworks, but games and food would be sufficient to mark their independence from the ongoing apocalypse on the other side of the canyon.
The team also noticed that the last several meteor showers consisted of only tiny particles that didn’t cause any rockslides or damage to their community. They all secretly hoped that part of the apocalypse was over but doubted their luck.
The women had spent several days making banners, baking pies, and cooking for the celebration. The men had made games and had a hog and a quarter of beef roasting on spits for the festivity the next day. The place looked as though there was to be a county fair.
Mattie came running out of the cabin that afternoon looking white as a ghost. “He’s alive. The Injun is back.”
Tom ran up and shook Mattie. “Mattie that is a sick joke to play on us.”
“No Tom, he is in our cabin. Luke is with him.”
Tom ran into Luke and Mattie’s cabin that they inherited from Roy and Lisa. He saw his old friend lying in bed with his arm in a sling. “I could kiss you. How the hell did you survive that blast?”
“You kiss me, and I’ll scalp your dirty old white ass. I’m glad to see you too, but I have no desire to kiss you.”
“Walt we knew you were dead. We saw the wall collapse on you,” Meg said.
Walt took a deep breath. “What you didn’t see was that when the wall collapsed it shoved me down into the basement below. I thank God that the owner had done a lot of home canning. I ate tomatoes, peaches, pickles, green beans, and other healthy crap for two weeks while I gained enough strength to escape and head home.”
Tom had a puzzled look on his face. “How did you get into our camp?”
“I came in through the mineshaft, and oh, by the way, it is damned hard to find even if you know where it is. I’d have been here much sooner, but the going was rough climbing these mountains with a bum arm. You can be proud of how you isolated us from the outside. Everyone below thinks you died along with the rest of the gang. Hell, they will be celebrating all of you for years for freeing them from the oppression of that gang.”
Tom bent over and tried to give Walt a big sloppy kiss.
*******************************************
Well, that’s the end of the EMP series, and now it’s vacation time for me. I’ll start writing again in April and let you know about my next novel. If you haven’t read all of my novels, this is your chance to catch up and enjoy my 26 other novels.
The End
Don’t stop! A sample from Book I of “The Day America Died! New Beginnings” follows.
Thanks for reading EMP: Perfect Storm and please don’t forget to give it a great review on Amazon. Remember to read my other books on Amazon.
AJ Newman
If you like my novel, please post a review on Amazon.
To contact or follow the Author, please leave comments @:
https://www.facebook.com/newmananthonyj/
To view other books by AJ Newman, go to Amazon to my Author’s page:
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00HT84V6U
A list of my other books follows at the end.
Thanks, AJ Newman
✪
Sample from:
The Day America Died!
New Beginnings
A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Tale.
The End is Near
Somalia
Sometime in the future:
She was soaking wet, and the temperature was still over 105 degrees as the sun went down on the coast of Somalia. The flies were more than annoying as they took turns biting any exposed flesh. One fly bit the back of her neck, which stung fiercely, but she remained frozen lest she gives away her position.
Her training had been tough and put her through miserable conditions; however, those damn flies were pure torture. She watched as the missile launcher with its missile was loaded into the 53-foot overseas shipping container. The scientists and team fitting the missile into the container worked for days to get the top to open far enough for the missile to be launched. Davi took many photos and left without being detected. It took her hours to crawl along the sand dunes back to her motorcycle and safety. She opened the saddlebag, retrieved some antibiotic salve, and applied it to the bites.
Davi caught movement in the bike’s mirror and saw a shadow creeping up behind her. She used the bike’s mirror to view the attacker without alerting him. Just before he lunged at her, she sidestepped, pulled her knife and slit his throat. He lay there looking up at her trying to say something, but only produced bubbles of blood around the slice in his throat and a mumbling sound. She ripped his mask off and was shocked to see a beautiful Chinese woman dying at her feet. She quickly started her bike and fled the area.
“Mori, I am safe and will be uploading the pictures in a few minutes. A Chinese operative just tried to kill me, but it was her unlucky day and my lucky day.”
“Davi, I doubt that luck had anything to do with you being alive and her dead.”
“It’s worse than I thought. There are three separate facilities fitting missile launchers into cargo containers.”
“Oh shit. Have you learned anything about their target?”
“Well, it’s not Israel in the first round because these missiles could reach us from Syria or several other Islamic countries. I think they are all to be fired on the USA and Western Europe.”
“We know Iran and North Korea are funding this effort. Are any other countries involved?”
“Of course there are the countries allowing the Iranians to use their docks to construct the overseas container missile launchers, Syria, Somalia, and Yemen. We have strong evidence that several of the nukes came from North Korea and Iran; there are flocks of Chinese technicians scampering around all three sites.”
“Any Russian involvement?”
“None detected. I think they are a target also.”
“What makes you think that Russia is a target?”
“My team intercepted a communication that pinpoints the coordinates for maximum EMP effect on Russia, the USA, and Europe. Mori, my team, also thinks that the plot is much larger than we have found so far.”
“How big and what additional targets?”
“We aren’t certain, but the Iranians might be double-crossing the Chinese and nuking them also. Zeb saw a map of China, in Yemen, with GPS coordinates that would match a potential EMP attack.”
“The attack on Russia is backed up by the gradual shift of China’s military to its northern borders. The bastards are going to attack Russia after the EMP blasts.”
“Only they don’t know they will have their balls cut off at the same instant.”
“How many more containers have already been produced?”
“There is no way to tell at this time. We know of 10 containers that can launch one missile each. There could be 4-5 more, and they could be in a position to launch at any time.”
“Thanks and get your teams out of there to safety. When we get permission to destroy them, it will be scorched earth.”
“They are ready. Mori, shouldn’t you get your family to a safe location? Mine live in the USA.”
“Davi, great minds think alike. I can’t say more.”
/>
“Cover your assets!”
••••
“We have proof that 10 containers have been fitted with nuclear tipped missiles that can travel 350 miles. It would only take 5-6 such EMP bombs to blast the USA and Western Europe back to the 1850s. There would be no electricity, planes, cars would not move, and people would starve. The question is what targets the other bombs are for?”
“We must assume we are also targeted.”
“One air blast would take out all non-shielded electronics and our grid.”
“I must call the US President and warn the USA. Have any of our people tipped off the CIA or NSA about this development?”
“No!”
“Should we warn the Russians?”
“Hell no!”
••••
“But Mrs. President, if we don’t strike now both of our countries could be destroyed.”
“Mr. Prime Minister, do not do anything rash. I have the utmost assurance from the Iranian Supreme Leader, Said El Khamenei that there is no plot to attack the USA or any other western power. North Korea has also assured us that they have destroyed their nuclear weapons. They will soon be our allies.”
“And you believe our mutual enemies and not your friend Israel.”
“Mr. Prime Minister, I believe that your intelligence is wrong. Do not attack Iran and North Korea or their assets or you will face the consequences.”
“Mrs. President, we have sent the data to the NSA and CIA, and they should concur with our assessment. Please listen to them, even if you don’t listen to us.”
“So you went around my back.”
The phone went dead.
••••
“I must report I have failed to convince the US President about the impending attack. I feel we must warn Great Britain and Germany immediately. I don’t trust France or the rest of Europe with the intelligence.”
“I will call my contacts in their intelligence groups while you call the Prime Minister of Great Britain and the President of Germany.”
“Our intelligence suggests that we have 5-10 days before the attack. We must prepare our military and evacuate key people to a safe location. I fear that our enemies won’t settle for eliminating our grid. They will rain fire down on our country to kill us all. Plan to initiate Dragon Fire if we are attacked.”
“Mori, I couldn’t convince that bitch this is a serious threat. She must be sleeping with that fucking Muslim Supreme Leader to ignore this plot against the western world.”
“I will implement Plan B when I receive word that Dragon Fire has been executed.”
✪✪✪
✪
Vacation
West Coast, USA
I was taking a well-deserved vacation in the Northwest when the shit hit the fan. Little did I know the world would end in a few days. My world changed from being a pissed off ex-husband to a devoted father who had to get home to save his daughter and friends. I had to get back home to Kentucky before the chaos began.
There was a sound in the room that I couldn’t identify, and the smell of stale perfume was in the air. I could hear the traffic out on the road and some woman yelling at the top of her voice, but I couldn’t understand what she was saying. My head was pounding, my mouth was dry, and I had to piss so bad, it hurt. My head hurt so bad I didn’t want to open my eyes. I tried to roll over and go back to sleep, but something heavy was on my arm. I opened one eye and peered at the thing weighing me down. It had red hair, and all I could see was the back of her head. “What the hell is she doing in my bed; I thought I gave up whoring around,” was all I could think.
Now that I was awake, my arm was calling to me. It was saying it was dying and I felt like a thousand pins were attacking it. I gently tried to pull my arm out from under the lady, but it was stuck. I glanced over the back of her head and saw her face in the mirror. Well at least she wasn’t coyote ugly, and my arm could be saved. Now how could I get her off my arm without waking her?
Shit, this is my room. I can’t sneak off in the night like a thief. Damn that face looks familiar. She was the desk clerk on second shift at the hotel where I was staying. I had promised myself that I wouldn’t bring strangers to my room ever again after being rolled a month ago. Alcohol must have been involved again. I’ve been drinking too much since the divorce and waking up with strange women way too often. I had gone from a devoted husband and doting father to a drunken whore monger.
She woke with a start. I pretended to be asleep as she slowly got out of bed.
I heard her say, “Damn, I promised to never sleep with a customer again. I have to get my ass out of here without waking him. Damn, we must have been drunk because I don’t remember having sex.”
She slipped her clothes on and said, “Goodbye Zack Johnson, whoever the hell you are. You can stop pretending to be asleep. I’m gone. What the fuck, stop by the desk tonight after I get off and I’ll meet you for drinks.”
I continued to pretend I was asleep; she closed the door and was gone. I could breathe again. I rubbed my arm until it came back to life and ran to the bathroom. I peed for about an hour and then searched my travel bag for some aspirin, took two and made some of that hotel coffee. My head was still fuzzy, but I remembered I was on vacation and had driven a rented Ford Escape from Smyrna, Tennessee to Green Land, Oregon. It took a week since I stopped at all of the sights along the way. I was impressed with the geyser and Cody, Wyoming and saw a bunch of mountains, streams and redwood trees once I got to northern California.
The hotel was a luxury since I was a backpacker from way back and wanted the best after long hikes. I hiked to the top of Mount Ashland, visited Table Rock and wandered through the redwoods in California.
I heard my cell phone playing “Brown Eyed Girl” and knew that my daughter was calling me. Where the hell was my phone? I searched the room and found it had fallen behind the desk. I hit recent calls and dialed her number.
“Dad, why didn’t you answer my call and where are you?”
“Callie, I’m in Oregon on vacation. Remember I tried to get your Mom to let you go, but she wouldn’t.”
“I know Dad, and I really wanted to go with you. Mom wants to know if I can come down to Smyrna and stay with you for a month this summer. She and Todd want to travel.”
“So I get to be your babysitter. You know I want you anytime she will let you come down. We’ll go hiking and backpacking.”
“That would be great. Can we shoot your guns? Dad, I need a new bicycle. Mine’s a bit small for me; I’ve grown three inches since last summer.”
“Your 16th birthday is a month off. Happy Birthday! I’ll drive up to Anderson, and perhaps we can drive over to Murphy to that fancy bike shop and find you a bike.”
“Thanks, Dad. Have you been to Crater Lake yet? Send more pictures.”
“I’m going there after lunch, and I’ll send them to you and post a bunch on Facebook.”
“Dad, Mom wants to talk with you. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye……….. Joan, what do you want?”
“Look, Zack, don’t be a butthole. Can’t we be civilized? I want to make sure you are alright with Callie spending the summer with you.”
“So you and Todd can have a honeymoon?”
“You know that we are getting married. Married people do have honeymoons.”
“They do, but you are taking our neighbor on your honeymoon. Has he even divorced Alice yet? You screw our neighbor, divorce me and expect me to be civilized.”
“Yes, get over it. Our marriage was stale, and you know it.”
“So just like day old bread, you just toss it aside.”
“Why do you care? I hear you are screwing every woman that you meet. I hope you get an STD.”
“I probably got it from you and Todd.”
“Oh, and before I forget, your best friend Mike and I will never speak to each other again after the stunt he pulled.”
“What did your brother do to make me proud?”
“He took a dump in Todd’s convertible. He is a moron.”
“He’s your brother.”
He cut off the call and pitched the phone on the bed. Time for a shower.
I needed to call Mike and thank him for crapping in that bastard’s car. He also needs to check on my farm over east of Owensville, Ky. The farm belonged to my Great Uncle Arlo and Aunt Betty, and I spent many a summer roaming around the farm and surrounding area. That’s where I met Mike and Joan Norman. We were best friends, and I married Joan right after high school. My aunt and uncle didn’t have any kids, and my dad traveled a lot and took my mom with him when he could, so I got to stay with Uncle Arlo and Aunt Betty. The farm was 120 acres of farm land with a five-acre lake and about 30 acres of dense woods with a stream flowing through it year round. I loved the time I spent there.
Uncle Arlo was a hunter, fisherman and a prepper. He’d been in the Army for 20 years and knew just about everything about survival. He spent the last 15 years of his life preparing for an apocalypse that never came. I’m damn glad he did because his work and the training that he gave me have saved my sorry ass several times over.
The farm has an older ranch style home, a large barn and a pole barn that sits about 400 feet off Highway 143 east of Owensville. The metal pole barn has a large storm shelter built under the floor. Uncle Arlo always parked his 1954 Ford pickup over it to make sure it stayed hidden from visitors. He had stocked it with food, water, and weapons, just in case the Commies attacked, or the banking system crashed. The farm was pretty much self-sufficient. There were fruit trees, blackberry bushes and a large garden in addition to a hen house, a dozen pigs and twenty head of cattle. There were solar panels on the house and pole barn that supplied electricity along with a windmill that pumped water from the lake to cool the house through a homemade cooling system he had built. The lake was about five acres and averaged 15 feet deep. He stocked it with catfish, bass, and bluegill. A large dock went 20 feet out into the water with a large covered deck on the side for entertaining.
