The Off Grid Survivor Box Set: Complete The Off Grid Survivor Series Books 1-4

by Connor Mccoy

  Lance looked up at him. “You don’t sound like you want to get into a gun battle yourself. Why are you coming along?”

  Sandy looked to the road stretching forth into the horizon. “‘Cause I don’t have a choice, kid. Not a man on this team does. You think I’d rip a man’s property out of his fingers if I had any hope of feeding myself?” He looked at Derrick, who now was several yards away, talking with George and Kendall. “He’s all we got. Personally, I just won’t care what we got to do next. So, if you got a conscience, son, you better bail while you can.”

  Sandy then plodded in Derrick’s direction. The other men started to take up their backpacks. Lance gazed at the mask one more time. Was he sure he wanted to do this?

  His stomach then growled. Quickly, Lance found a small set of crackers wrapped in plastic and pulled them free.

  Don’t be stupid, he thought as he opened up the crackers and chomped on them. Of course he would.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Marco’s knees wobbled as his weakened legs struggled to support his weight. Not a soul was around. He had been lying there on the concrete while the women fled and Jack rounded up the remaining men to go hunt them down. None of the guys, not a single one, had gone back to check on him. They all had left him for dead.

  He clutched his upper right shoulder. The bullet must have penetrated clear through. He rubbed his fingers. Blood, but not a lot. He peered down on the ground. A few splatters of blood. Nothing major.

  Suddenly, he gasped for air. God knows what that bullet did to him. Without a working hospital to x-ray the wound and provide treatment, he might be dying for all he knew.

  He staggered forward. No, the warehouse. He had to get in there. Break open some of the medical supplies they had stowed away in there. If he just could plug this damn hole in his shoulder, maybe shoot some antibiotics, he’d be able to heal.

  And then when Jack comes back, I’ll bury a bullet in him so deep he won’t recover, he thought.

  Still, each step was laborious. It seemed as though it’d take forever to reach the warehouse’s west entrance.

  Then, a low growl stopped him in his tracks. He turned. A trio of dogs was approaching slowly from the left side of the lot.

  “Dogs?” he whispered, “Why the hell now?” Then he remembered. The sentries usually would frighten away strays with gunshots. But now there was no one around guarding the warehouse. The lot was still.

  As the dogs closed in, Marco could make out the drool on their lips. Holy shit! This is a feral bunch. My gun. Where’s my gun?

  He raised his hands. They were empty. He must have dropped his gun somewhere. He looked around. The concrete was bare. Did one of the guys take his gun, assuming he was as good as dead?

  “Son of a bitch,” he said.

  Now he had no choice but to run for the warehouse. But he didn’t progress more than an anguished few steps before the dogs raced toward him, barking loudly. Marco’s hand was a few steps too far from the door handle when the first dog jumped on top of him.

  If Marco had not been wounded, he might have had a chance. Instead, he instantly was pinned to the concrete. A dog’s teeth sank deeply into his neck, severing his jugular vein.

  It would not be until more than a day later when another human being would approach the warehouse to discover the savaged corpse on the ground once known as Marco Valentino.

  Conrad glanced over his shoulder again. No, still no pursuers, although with all the building corners, fences, stalled vehicles and wooden utility poles, it wasn’t hard to imagine that stalkers could be on their trail. Maggiano may well have ordered his men to track them and keep at a safe distance until Conrad’s party decided to take a rest. Maggiano’s goon squad would then move in.

  “Hey,” the young lady beside him said, “You need me to keep watch for you?”

  Conrad turned to her. “If you wouldn’t mind helping out an old man. What’s your name?”

  “Rachel.” The woman seemed to be in her early thirties. She was dressed in a white shirt and red shorts. “I just don’t want to, you know, keep my back turned. I don’t feel safe.”

  Conrad nodded. God only knew what these women had been through, and some of their behavior had unnerved him. Some of them were withdrawn, twitching, even muttering to themselves occasionally. “I understand that,” he said. “If you see anything, holler. I’ll see if I can steer us to someplace where you all can take shelter.”

  Rachel turned so her head was looking more to the side. “I will. And, thanks for saving us.”

  “No problem,” Conrad replied.

  Conrad hiked up to the head of the pack, where Tom was leading. It amused Conrad that, for once, Tom was the man in charge, after Conrad had spent this whole endeavor coaxing Tom along. But for the moment, it made sense. Conrad wanted Tom to lead them out of Redmond’s warehouse district back to the business district, where Conrad, Tom, Liam and Carla had found the stores raided by Maggiano’s men, and Tom knew this city well. Those stores had been gathering places for refugees until they were attacked and the women kidnapped. Although Conrad had recovered Sarah, he could not leave these ladies alone in this ruined wasteland that had once been a thriving city.

  If I have to, I will lead all these women back home, he thought, but it was a grim proposition to make the journey home with this many survivors. A group this size would make for a slower trek, plus they would be more easily spotted by bandits, looters, or simply the desperate. From what little he had got out of the ladies thus far, many, if not all, of them were Redmond residents. One of them even voiced a desire to go back home and see if any of her relatives had gone there looking for her.

  He slowed his pace as he approached Tom and Sarah. Sarah walked a step or two behind Tom. Conrad kept quiet as he studied them. At first, Sarah had expressed joy at being rescued, but as time passed her euphoria had melted away into a bit of a scowl. There was unfinished business here between these two. Hell, there was unfinished business between her and Conrad, but Conrad had no desire to pick that old scab.

  Conrad tilted his head so he wouldn’t be looking at Sarah. I’ve been on the receiving end of that look, Conrad thought. He pitied Tom, although Tom had surrendered Sarah to Marco, so at least he deserved it. But since the pair weren’t saying anything, Conrad felt free to speak up.

  “So, what do you think, Tom? Got any place in mind? The sun’s headed down and we don’t have a lot of time left.”

  They were approaching a city intersection. Tom slowed a bit. “The only place I can think of that Maggiano didn’t hit is Tao’s Laundromat. They were definitely taking in survivors to help them find food and medicine.” He pointed to the street on the left side. “It’s several blocks that way. If fortune’s smiling on us, there will be people there to help us.”

  “Well, I guess you can keep playing the leader for a while.” Conrad chuckled.

  Sarah eyed Tom with a smirk. Tom frowned. “What?”

  “Nothing.” Sarah looked away. “Nothing. It’s just a bit of a surprise. You show up gun totting, and now you’re like Moses leading us to the Promised Land.”

  Tom swallowed. “Yeah.”

  “I’m just curious what’s changed,” she said icily.

  Tom’s muscles in his right arm tightened. “I had a bad mistake to correct. Horrible, horrible mistake.” He sighed. “The worst mistake I ever made in my life.”

  Sarah kept on looking ahead. She didn’t add anything. So, Tom continued. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Marco’s men had those guns on me, and I didn’t know what to do. So, I ended up taking the coward’s way out.”

  Again, Sarah said nothing. Clenching a fist, Tom spoke up again. “I don’t expect instant forgiveness. I get that. But I do care for you. And if I had to get my ass blown away out there for you, then that’s how it would have gone.”

  Sarah’s face tightened a little. “Well, maybe you should keep that in mind next time.”

  “Sarah, the choice wasn’t staring me in the
face back then. Guns were. We could have been both dead by now. Giving you up was a horrible thing to do, but you must admit it may have saved us both.”

  Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but Tom quickly jumped in by adding, “I’m not defending myself. Believe me, I deserve it. I deserve you being pissed at me. I just don’t want you to close the door on…on us. We don’t have anything else left. I don’t even think my home is left. It’s probably burned to the ground like so much else around here.”

  It was a short while before Sarah talked again. “So, what happened? You went to Conrad to rescue me?”

  Tom swallowed. “Well, it’s a little more complicated than that.”

  “He did find us,” Conrad said quickly. “He told us where you were. He’s the reason you’re free.”

  Sarah frowned. “Really?” She slowed up, allowing herself to approach Conrad. “So, what’d he do? Leave Redmond to go find you? That’s one hell of a journey without a car.”

  “We rode bikes, actually,” Conrad replied, “It’s become oddly popular nowadays for some reason. Maybe it’s the newest fad.” He stared at a stalled car on the road as he spoke. “Actually, you can thank Liam for getting the ball rolling.”

  “Oh God, what am I thinking? I didn’t even ask about Liam!” Sarah grasped a lock of her hair in front and clutched it tightly. “What happened? Is he alright?”

  “He’s fine, Sarah,” Conrad replied. “He came here with me, but I sent him back to my place. This was my call and Tom’s. I made sure Liam and Carla would be as safe as possible.”

  “Carla, too.” Sarah bowed her head. “My Liam,” she whispered. “If anything happened to him it wouldn’t matter a damn if I escaped. So, he went to you?”

  Conrad nodded. “He came to me...to find you. He felt I was the only one he could turn to who could get you out of this city. But we didn’t learn about Maggiano until we got here. I made sure Liam and Carla returned to my home before we went any farther.”

  Sarah bowed her head. “Then they’re all safe. Thank you.”

  Lance fished his fingers back through the straps of his backpack. He had been pushing them in and out several times during this long hike down the road. His hands still instinctively went for his pocket to pull out the smart phone that was no longer there. Before the solar event erupted, Lance alleviated his boredom by pulling out his phone and sticking his buds into it to listen to music, or texting his buddies. Even though he knew he never again would listen to streaming or electronically recorded music, he couldn’t help himself. Every now and then he’d still expect his phone to be there, to work for him.

  But now all he could do was walk. Sweat dribbled down the sides of his head. The day was warm, and ordinarily Lance would be miserable as hell, but Derrick’s promise of food and shelter raised his spirits. He knew this trip would not be for nothing.

  And judging from the generally contented looks on the other men, they seemed to believe so as well. All of them except two were younger men. The two exceptions—Sandy and Teller—sported white hair and walked with a slower gait. None of them appeared to be overweight. Like Lance, the harsh new world had deprived them of anything but the bare essentials to survive.

  Sandy’s comment about ditching the party if he had a conscience still nagged at him a little. After all, if this Conrad Drake saw all of them coming, surely he’d agree to hand over his ranch in exchange for his life. It would be stupid not to do so. Hell, Lance would do it without a second thought.

  He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice he was walking too fast—and nearly ran smack into the back of Derrick.

  Gasping, Lance slowed his pace. He hoped Derrick hadn’t noticed him.

  “Someone’s eager to get to the Promised Land, aren’t they?” Derrick suddenly asked without turning his head.

  Goosebumps popped all over Lance’s arms. “I…I guess so.”

  “I know how you feel,” Derrick said. “You’re from around here, aren’t you? Or are you from out of state?”

  “No,” Lance replied. “No, I was born in Lincoln.”

  “Gotcha. What’s your name?”

  “Lance Wilkins,” Lance replied.

  “Lance.” Derrick grinned. “Solid name. A lance is actually the name of a sharp weapon. It’s a kind of spear that knights used when they charged into battle. I guess that’s why you’re here. It’s like a good luck charm.”

  The back of Lance’s ears burned. “Thanks.”

  “Mister Wellinger.” Kendall pointed to the horizon. A small town loomed closer.

  “Yeah, I see it.” Derrick looked up at the sky. The sun was approaching the horizon. “Better start setting up camp,” he said. “Still got a day or two before we reach Conrad’s ranch.”

  The whole party came to a stop. George pulled out the tent from his pack and started setting it up. Lance felt a little better about this job. A good luck charm? No one, not even his parents, ever had called him that before or paid him such a compliment. More than ever, Lance felt sure Derrick Wellinger was the man to lead them to their salvation.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The orange glow several blocks over only added to Conrad’s worries. The sun finally had set. The city had awakened from its day-long slumber. The arsonists, the looters, those who wanted to wreak havoc now that they were free of the prying eyes of law enforcement, all of them were about to have another night on the town.

  Conrad turned back to Tom at the head of their traveling party. “Tom, I hate to be a busybody, but this town’s about ready to show its ugly side.”

  Tom huffed. He had been trekking onward for a while without a break, as had all of them. They just couldn’t go much faster. In fact, they were slowing up as some of the women complained of callused feet and exhaustion. “I know,” Tom said. Sarah was clinging to his arm to support him. “But we’re almost there.”

  Tom then handed Sarah his gun. “Here,” he said, “just in case. If there’s anybody in there, this time no one’s taking you.”

  She nodded. “Thanks,” she said.

  By now the party had crossed a street and was approaching Tao’s Laundromat. It was an old building with an old wooden sign over the glass doors. Every letter on the sign was likely a dark red, but now had faded to a light pink.

  “This is it.” Tom staggered up the concrete steps. “Last contact I know of.” He approached the doors, which were covered with wooden boards. There was no way to know who was in there, if anybody at all.

  “Hey!” Tom shouted in a hoarse voice. “We need help!”

  Conrad raised his arm. “Okay, we can stop now!” The women were all too happy to hear that, giving out loud gasps as they halted.

  Tom knocked on the door. “Hey! We have…we have women in need! We escaped Maggiano’s hideout. Do you have any water, medicine?”

  All of a sudden, the door opened and a bearded man popped out, gun drawn. “What the hell are you all doing out here at night. You—” The bearded man then spotted the ladies with Conrad. “Son of a bitch. You’re not lying.”

  “Yeah. We’ve been traveling all day. These women need shelter. We can talk bartering, anything, but get us inside first,” Tom said.

  The bearded man nodded. “Alright.” He pushed the door open. “In, quick.”

  Conrad helped the tired, bedraggled group through the laundromat doors. The interior room, which would have housed washing machines, had been cleared to make room for tables and chairs, with boxes and a few beds lining the walls.

  The bearded man watched as the women took the available seats. “All these women got free of Maggiano? How the hell did you manage this?”

  “Two men with more brains than that lot put together.” Conrad offered his hand. “We’re very grateful. I’m Conrad Drake. This man here’s Tom Richards.”

  “I’ll be damned.” The man grasped Conrad’s hand. “Todd Shannon. I used to be an insurance salesman. Now I’m the head of this little camp. It’s a gathering point for whatever we can fi
nd. A lot of the other refuge points already have been taken out. So, we’ve been gathering bikes to ride out of here on. And if they’re broken, we try fixing them.”

  “You have bikes?” Conrad asked.

  “Sure do. Sadly, we got more bikes than people. Maggiano’s offers for work were a lot sweeter than ours.” Then he looked at the women around him. “And I guess you know he takes whatever else he wants.”

  “Tom, myself, and our friend Sarah, we all got a place to go to out of town. We could sure use a couple of bikes. I’m prepared to barter for them, but we’ve used up a lot of food and water already,” Conrad said.

  “Can you do a little repair job on some of our bikes? The more the merrier,” Shannon said.

  “I know a thing or too about fixing bikes,” Tom said. “My mom was a little overprotective, but her boy never could keep his hands off his ten-speed.”

  Shannon led them to a back corner where a few old bikes lay propped against the wall. “Do your worst.”

  “What about clothes?” Conrad asked, “We’re not too far from the edge of the city. I have an idea on how we can blend in.”

  Shannon pointed to a large box used to hold a new washing machine. Now it was overflowing with clothes. “Be my guest. But it’ll cost you another repaired bike.”

  An hour later, Shannon approached Conrad, who just had finished installing the chain on the bike’s derailleur. “Got some good news. I’ve got some friends who are preparing a run out of the city. They’ve been moving bikes there for the past few days, and they’re prepared to take these ladies with them.”

  “Where are you off to?” Conrad asked.

  “Rumor has it there’s a lot of farms out there that still are running. Maybe they can take some more refugees in.” Shannon sighed. “I hate to say it, but maybe the cities will be safe after the crazies have killed each other off.”