“You be tryin’ my patience, lil’ bitch, you tryin’ my patience,” the first man said, stepping closer to Susan.
She slowly bent half over, as if lowering herself to put the pepper spray on the ground, but then, as she was half-crouched, she whipped it up and unleashed a torrent of the fiery liquid right into the man’s face. He screamed with pain and staggered back, and the second man lunged forward. Susan, who’d been anticipating his attack with tensed muscles and slightly bent knees, was already perfectly poised to react. She ducked under his grabbing hands and blasted his eyes with a jet of pepper spray, too, while swooping acrobatically away from him.
That was only the beginning of her counterattack, though. On the ground was a broken chunk of concrete the size of a bread loaf. Susan, still trapped between the two men, grabbed the concrete and slammed it as hard as she could against the first man’s hand. He yelped with pain, and his knife went flying, but she wasn’t finished. She followed up with a smashing hit against his jaw. Then, as the man reeled like a drunkard on his legs, stunned from the blow, she swung around and deftly dodged a wild haymaker of a punch launched by the second man, who growled in pain, coughing and choking on the pepper spray. She booted him between his legs and then smashed the concrete over the top of his head, causing him to sink to his knees. She hit him again, then spun around and belted the first man again across the jaw with the concrete with such force that it shattered.
The man dropped limply to the floor, knocked out cold, and before the second man could even think of attempting to recover and counterattack, she spun around and planted a heavy roundhouse kick against the side of his jaw, knocking him out cold, too. Breathing hard both from the intensity of the fight and the adrenalin racing through her veins, Susan jumped over the first man’s body and sprinted out of the alley.
For the first few seconds, she just ran blindly at top speed, almost crashing into three people on the sidewalk. She’d almost forgotten about trying to locate her mother’s car and was almost unaware even of which direction she was supposed to be going. She raced along the street, caring only about getting as far as she could from her assailants, as fast as she could, until she finally started to slow down and regain some control over her instincts. When she stopped, her heart was pounding madly in her chest, and she looked down at her hands and saw they were shaking violently. Susan could hardly believe that she’d just done what she’d done, but the important thing was that she had escaped from a dangerous situation unharmed.
“You okay, young lady?” a voice asked. It sounded as if it belonged to an elderly man.
Susan looked up and saw that an old man had come shuffling out of a nearby store and was staring at her with a look of concern on his face.
“I’m okay, sir,” she said.
“The rest of the world ain’t,” he said, looking around him and shaking his head sadly. “I don’t know what’s happened, but in all my years, I ain’t never seen nothin’ like this. Say, you sure you okay? You look a lil’ … spooked. You gotta be real careful round here. There are some bad folk on these here streets. Real pity, this used to be such a nice neighborhood when I was a younger man.”
“I know,” she said, looking at him with his suspenders, cane, and thick glasses, and feeling a sudden and intense welling of pity within her. How would this kindly old man survive the horrors of what was no doubt coming? She wished there was something she could do for him, but Susan realized that there was almost nothing she could do, really. “Sir, you better go home and be with your family. Things are getting crazy out here, and they’re only gonna get crazier.”
He nodded. “You’d best take that advice yourself, young lady. I heard a terrible sound like bombs or somethin’, like there’s a war startin’ or somethin’… And on top o’ that, there’s supposed to be some crazy storm goin’ be hittin’ us tomorrow, worst one in a generation, they say. It’s like the end times are here… Yeah, you’d best be on your way home.”
“That’s where I’m going,” she said, feeling like she was about to burst into tears out of sheer sadness and pity for whatever tragic fate no doubt awaited this man. “Home. Goodbye, sir, and good luck to you.”
“Glad to see there are still some polite young people in these streets,” he said, giving her a grandfatherly smile. “Good luck to you, too, young lady. Hurry, you’d best be on your way.”
As he said this, the sound of another explosion going off boomed through the streets, as if some unseen force was urging Susan to keep moving. She bolted down the sidewalk, turned the corner, and caught sight of the river, and one of the many bridges that spanned it—that bridge was the one her mother always took.
She dashed toward the bridge and saw a few abandoned vehicles on it, but because of the curve, she couldn’t see all of it. Was her mother stuck in her dead car on the bridge? If she weren’t, Susan had no idea where she could be.
As she got closer to the river, she saw that there was someone in the middle of the icy water, someone who looked as if they might be drowning … someone who looked horrifyingly familiar.
“Mom?” Susan gasped incredulously.
And then, as Susan stared, frozen with horror and disbelief, her mother’s head went under the water and disappeared.
7
“The other stairs, hurry!” Jack said, staring at the wall of flame that blocked their way out. The air was thick, black, choking smoke, and he and Carrie could barely see where they were going. They staggered through the smoke and the heat to the maintenance stairwell, hidden around a corner around the back of the elevator landing.
However, when Jack opened the door, another wall of flames confronted him—that way was blocked, too.
“Oh my God,” Carrie gasped, coughing and spluttering. “What are we gonna do?”
“Climb,” he said grimly. “It’s the only way.”
“You’ve gotta be joking,” she said. “Climb … where? We’re twenty floors up!”
“I know,” he said, “but there’s no other way.”
“I can’t climb! Not with a broken arm!” she protested, on the verge of tears.
“I’ll lower you down. I’ve got a rope in this bag.”
“You’ll lower … are you crazy? There’s no way you’ve got enough rope to do that!”
“I’ve got enough to get you to a balcony three floors down,” Jack said, running over to the window and looking out of it. “From there, we should be able to take the stairs; the fire may not have spread that far.”
“Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m gonna let you do this,” Carrie whimpered.
Jack, however, had already taken off his belt. He hooked it under her shoulders and fastened it tight between her shoulder blades.
“It’s crude, but it’ll do for a harness,” he said. “The belt’s strong. It’ll hold, trust me. Now I need to loop the rope between your legs, or your weight will end up dislocating both your shoulders. Here, wad my sweater up tight and put it between your legs, it’ll give you some padding; otherwise, that rope could get, well, really painful.”
Carrie, coughing and choking on the smoke, could do little but obey him. She balled up the sweater as tight as possible and gripped it between her thighs, while Jack looped the rope between her legs and then through the makeshift harness around her shoulders and tied a solid knot
“All right, we’re ready to go,” he said, picking up a thick doormat from outside one of the offices and draping it over the windowsill to prevent the rope fraying from friction against the metal window frame. He then looped the other end of the rope through one of the sturdy steel railings of the nearby maintenance stairway, giving himself a point of leverage. For extra security, he looped the rope around his waist and pulled it tight.
“This is crazy; this is totally crazy,” Carried whimpered. “I hate heights. I can’t even look out the window!”
“You have to climb out, Carrie,” Jack said calmly. “I know that it’s scary, but trust me, I know my knots, and you’re safe
. I’ve got you. Please, no more talk … climb out and let me lower you down. If you don’t, we’re both going to burn to death up here.”
Carrie peeked out, and the vertigo of the twenty-floor drop seemed to suck her downward, pulling at her with a terrifying force. She couldn’t believe that she was about to climb out of this window and put her life in the hands of a middle-aged man and a flimsy length of nylon rope. The balcony she had to get to was slightly to the side, not directly below the window, so if anything went wrong, she would plummet a long way down to her death.
A billowing cloud of black smoke blasted her from the stairwell, and the flames down there roared with fresh hunger. As terrifying as it was, she knew she had to do this. Using her good arm, with her broken arm hanging limply from her side and shooting pain through her body each time she moved it, she gripped the window frame and slipped one leg through it.
“You can do this, Carrie!” Jack yelled from behind her. “I’ve got you. You’re safe! Just give two tugs on the rope when you’re on the balcony so I know I can come down!”
Carrie felt like she was about to throw up, and when she lifted her other leg onto the windowsill and sat on the ledge with her legs dangling over the twenty-floor drop, she wanted to scream or faint, or both. She forced herself to push her body off, though, and then the rope and Jack’s strength were the only things keeping her from plummeting a long way to her doom.
Carrie was a petite woman, but even so, she was a dead weight on the rope, and Jack had to use all of his strength to maintain his grip on the nylon. He fed it through his hands as quickly as he could without losing control and without making Carrie feel as if she were dropping rather than being lowered.
It was doubly difficult with the rapidly increasing heat from the spreading fire and the increased smoke’s intensity making breathing difficult even with the gas mask. Every one of Jack’s muscles felt as if it was being strained to breaking point, and after a minute of this, his whole body was starting to tremble. Carrie’s dead weight pulled with relentless persistence on the rope, and she still hadn’t reached the balcony. How, he thought grimly, would he be able to climb down himself if he were utterly exhausting himself now and burning through all of his strength and energy?
There was no point in entertaining such thoughts, and he forced this disquieting notion from his mind and concentrated on the task at hand. He pushed through the pain and exhaustion with thoughts of his wife and daughter; he’d do whatever was needed to get to them and to get them out of this place before things got really bad. And if he had to push through some pain and physical exhaustion, so be it.
Just as he was thinking that, he felt the rope slacken, and the weight on it abruptly vanished. For a few horrifying seconds, Jack wondered if his makeshift harness had broken, sending Carrie plummeting to her doom, but two sharp tugs on the rope dispelled those fears.
Jack was by no means in the clear, though. The flames had crept up the stairs and were rapidly heating the steel railing. If the flames got to the rope, or even if the metal got too hot, the rope would melt and possibly break while Jack was dangling on it, twenty floors up.
There was no time to worry about such things. Jack had to get on with the climb or die. He tied a hasty knot, securing the rope to the steel railing—which was already almost too hot to touch—and then ran over to the window. The view of the drop all the way down to the hard concrete below made his stomach lurch, but he pushed through the fear and climbed out onto the windowsill, gripping the rope tight. He’d done plenty of abseiling before, but this was the first time he was doing it without any safety equipment and at a far greater height than he’d ever repelled before.
“Come on, Jack, you can do this,” he muttered to himself. Then he turned around and backed out of the window, leaning back over the immense drop, with all his weight on the rope, supported only by the strength in his muscles and nothing else.
His heart was thundering in his temples and ears, and cold washes of fear were tearing through him, but he knew he had no option but to proceed. Now that he was out of the smoke and into the fresh air, he felt as if the mask on his face was a suffocating presence. He could barely breathe with it on. He couldn’t afford to let go of the rope with one hand to take it off, though, and simply had to bear it.
He eased down the side of the building as fast as he could, terrifyingly aware of the fact that the rope could snap at any second. He kept looking over his shoulder to see how far he had to go. Even though Jack felt like he was moving quickly, his progress seemed to be agonizingly slow, and the balcony barely looked any closer every time he looked down.
After descending a couple of yards, his muscles felt as if they were at breaking point, burning as fiercely as the flames above him, which, to his alarm, he saw roaring out of the window.
The rope would surely snap in a few short seconds. With icy terror surging through him, Jack abseiled down in great, bounding leaps, trying to close the distance to the balcony in the short time he had left.
Hope surged through him as he glanced over his shoulder and saw the balcony’s rail almost within reach.
And then the rope snapped.
8
“Miss!” the young man in the kayak yelled, paddling furiously to try to get to Kate before it was too late. “I saw what happened! Keep your head above the water! I’m coming!”
Kate could barely control her limbs; they were simply too numb, and the icy cold of the water felt as if it had zapped her every last drop of strength she possessed. She didn’t want to die, not here, not like this, and the thought of leaving Jack and Susan without a wife and mother made it feel like someone was tearing her heart to shreds inside her chest, but she couldn’t move. She could no longer tread water and stay afloat. It had simply become impossible, and the young man in the kayak may as well have been asking her to flap her arms and fly to safety.
“Help,” she managed to croak. Then, as she turned her head, she heard a familiar voice calling out to her from the shore.
“Mom!” Susan yelled.
It was enough to boost one last surge of strength through her veins. Kate kicked and struggled, trying to close the impossible distance between herself and the shore … but her limbs simply wouldn’t respond. It was as if her body had already died, and all that remained was her mind and a desperate but hopeless will to survive.
Then she slipped under the water.
This time, there seemed to be no chance of swimming up to the surface. Kate felt as if she were sinking like a stone, and there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn’t even retain what little air was in her lungs, and she involuntarily breathed out, and water came rushing into her airway.
Then, just as all hope seemed lost, a hand latched onto her collar—a strong hand. She felt herself being pulled upward, and her head broke the surface of the water.
“Come on!” the young man in the kayak yelled. “You can do this! I can’t pull you out on my own but grab the kayak and hold on. I’ll paddle us to shore!”
Kate coughed out the water she’d swallowed and found new strength in her limbs—just enough to hold on to the side of the kayak as the young man picked up his paddle again and paddled furiously toward the shore. The sight of Susan on the riverbank shouting and waving gave Kate enough of a boost in strength to hold on, and soon enough, her feet touched the bottom.
As soon as they were in shallow enough water, the young man jumped out of the kayak into the water. He picked up Kate, who collapsed into his arms, and carried her out onto the muddy riverbank, where Susan was anxiously waiting.
“Mom!” Susan cried with tears from both relief and immense stress running down her cheeks.
“This is your mother?” the young man asked. He wore the kit of a local university’s rowing club. “I was training out there on the water and saw her car go right off the bridge into the water. Then I saw, I don’t know, missiles or rockets or something in the sky. What the hell is going on? It seems like the whole world ha
s lost its mind!”
“There’s been some sort of terrorist attack,” Susan said, kneeling next to Kate. “It’s real bad. I don’t know any more than that. But, thank you, thank you so much for saving her life.”
“She’s not outta the woods yet,” the young man said. “That water is ice cold. We gotta get her into some dry clothes and warm her up. And we’d better call an ambulance.”
“There won’t be any ambulances or any doctors or hospitals,” Susan said. “We have to do this ourselves.”
“No ambulances? No hospitals? What?” he asked, looking confused.
“I don’t have time to explain,” Susan said. “Please, we have to help my mom.”
Kate could barely speak. The cold felt as if it had possessed her entire being, as if she were a disembodied mind somehow occupying a dead, cold body.
The young man nodded. “Okay, I know where we can take her. My gym’s just over there. They’ve got a sauna and some hot baths. My name’s Nick, by the way.”
“I’m Susan, and my mom’s name is Kate. There’s no electricity, and nothing electronic will work,” Susan said.
“Okay, but I’m guessing that this just happened like, half an hour ago?” Nick asked. “Because my phone and smartwatch were working when I got onto the river. The water in the baths will still be hot, even if all the electricity is out. It’ll take hours to cool down.”
“Okay, yeah, let’s go there,” Susan said. “And thank you again for saving her life.”
“What else could I have done?” Nick said with a smile. “Let her drown? Not on my watch. All right ma’am,” he said to Kate, who was shivering like a leaf in a gale while her jaw chattered madly, “we’re gonna get you into some nice hot water, warm you up, okay?”
Kate could barely even speak, so she just tried to nod. Nick picked her up, and he and Susan hurried up the bank and got onto the street. Nick marveled at the sight of thousands of abandoned cars and people either walking about aimlessly, with looks of fear and confusion on their faces, or running around like headless chickens in a complete panic.
Survive the Day Boxset: EMP Survival in a Powerless World Page 56
