EMP Survival In A Powerless World | Book 21 | The Darkest Day

by Walker, Robert J.

  “I’m getting like, freaked out,” Sandy murmured. “This is scary as shit, Ann. I can’t see a damn thing. Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

  “I’m sure. Just trust me, okay?”

  “Oh my God, what we if run into that creepy guard who was following us around?” Sandy whispered, horrified.

  A jolt of fear rippled through Ann’s core when Sandy said this. She had pushed the memory of the man out of her mind, but now that Sandy mentioned him, she found herself thinking about him again. When they’d first entered the museum an hour earlier, one of the museum guards, a heavyset middle-aged man, had practically undressed Sandy and Ann with his eyes when they’d walked in. They had noticed him following the high school group around, pretending to be going about his work duties but staring hungrily and almost drooling over the two of them.

  “Just, um, don’t think about him, okay?” Ann said. “He’s probably gone back to the entrance.”

  “But what if he’s still, like, lurking around here, waiting for us?”

  “I’m trying to concentrate on getting us out of here,” Ann said. “Please, just stop talking about that creep.”

  “Okay, okay,” Sandy murmured, her voice raised in pitch from fear.

  They continued to move slowly through the darkness, with Ann doing her best to pretend she was actually looking at the exhibits as she walked along. “All right,” she whispered, half to Sandy and half to herself, “now we should be passing the prehistoric exhibit. Keep going, a few more paces. Now we’re walking past the flint arrowheads and stone axes, and then the corner will be just here to the left, a couple more steps this way…”

  Ann came to a stop. She was sure she’d reached the corner, but there was only one way to find out. “We have to turn left here,” she said to Sandy. “Just walk really slowly; it’s no fun walking into a wall, trust me.” She held out a hand in front of her, with her palm facing forward, and took a few tentative steps, feeling ahead of her with her foot before putting it down, doing her best to make sure she didn’t walk into a wall or trip over anything.

  After a few steps, they didn’t crash into anything, so Ann was sure she was in the right place. She breathed out a sigh of relief and then started walking again, leading Sandy along. “Okay, and now we’re getting into the natural history section,” she said. “Just a couple yards along this hallway, and we’ll be by the large mammals of North America exhibit. There’s a long hallway to get through, and—”

  “Who’s there?” a gruff male voice demanded from the darkness just a few steps away from them, causing both girls to shriek with fright.

  Both of them froze in the darkness, their hearts thumping in their chests and their pulses drumming in their temples, with surges of cold, fear-laced blood rushing through their veins. The voice in the nearby darkness clearly belonged to a middle-aged man; was it the creepy guard?

  “I said, who’s there!” the man growled, more aggressively this time. “Are you those high school kids?”

  Ann swallowed a gulp of dry, empty fear. Her mind was a riot of confusion and fear, and she was rooted to the spot with panic. She didn’t know whether to say anything in response, keep quiet and hope that he went away, or break into a run into the blind darkness.

  “You are those kids, ain’t you?” the man said, his voice taking on a different tone—a darker and more sinister one, drizzled with menacing glee.

  The fact that they couldn’t see where or who he was, but that he was clearly just a few yards away from them in the impenetrable darkness, made the whole thing a lot more terrifying. “You’re those two pretty girls, ain’t you, the blond and the redhead…”

  Sandy was blond, and Ann had red hair, like Mary’s. Icy surges of terror gushed through both girls’ veins. For now, they were sure that this was the creepy guard who had been trailing their group.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, trying unsuccessfully to disguise the predatory hunger in his voice. “Just come with me, I’ll make sure you’re both safe…” They heard him shuffling toward them in the dark, and their fear grew even more intense.

  “What are we gonna do?” Sandy whispered hoarsely into Ann’s ear, on the verge of tears.

  “Uh, um, I, I don’t—” Ann screamed as a large, strong hand clamped down on her forearm.

  “There you are, ha-ha,” the guard chuckled darkly, “I’ve got you now, little girl. You’re safe with me, don’t worry, you’re safe now…”

  “L–let go of me!” Ann yelled, trying to jerk her arm out of his grip.

  “Oh my God, help!” Sandy screamed.

  “Shut up, you little shit!” the man roared, fumbling through the dark to try to grab hold of Sandy as well. His grip around Ann’s arm tightened to the point of pain, and she knew she had to take drastic action. She couldn’t see a thing but judging from the sound of his voice and the position of his arm, she had a rough idea of where he was. She aimed a desperate kick in the direction of his groin. Her foot connected with something solid but somewhat squishy and the man grunted heavily with pain.

  His grip on her arm slackened just enough that she was able to jerk it out of his grasp, and the instant she did, she yanked on Sandy’s hand. “Run!” she screamed, bolting down the hallway, barreling blindly through the inky blackness.

  “Little whore, fuckin’ jailbait!” the man growled behind her, stumbling around in the dark and coughing and groaning with pain.

  Ann and Sandy ran for a few seconds but slowed down to a jog and then a brisk walk; the chance of running smack-bang into a wall or something else solid—or crashing into another person—was too high a risk. Because of the blind dash away from the guard, Ann now only had a vague idea of where they were in the museum, and she was feeling disoriented and panicked. Somewhere behind them, the guard was stumbling and groaning and growling in the dark.

  “He’s gonna get us, Ann,” Sandy whimpered, feeling around in the darkness for Ann’s hand, which she gripped tightly when she found it. “He probably knows his way around this place way better than you.”

  “Just stay calm. I’m pretty sure I know where we are,” Ann said. “And he might know his way around well, but he’s as blind as we are, and that kick in nuts I gave him probably got him at least a little disoriented.”

  “You little fuckin’ whores,” the guard growled in darkness, perhaps twenty or thirty yards behind them. “I was just trying to help you, fuckin’ shitty little bitches!” He started shuffling in their direction, groaning and gasping in the dark like some eyeless monster.

  “We have to get out of here!” Sandy whispered.

  “I’m thinking. I’m thinking!” Ann said. Her mind was racing as she did her best to visualize the main hall of the North American Mammals exhibit.

  One of her favorite exhibits in the hall had always been a family of polar bears, and as she thought about the bears, a flare of inspiration blazed in her mind. In the image of her memory of the bears, there was something that had always stood out to her: above the huge male polar bear, there was a glowing green EMERGENCY EXIT sign. She was sure of it; she’d spent so much time staring in awe at the huge white bears that the sign just behind them had been permanently imprinted on her brain.

  “Come on, this way!” she said, tugging at Sandy’s hand. “Feel around for the border ropes!”

  The guard was coming closer, cursing aggressively and muttering under his breath. Possessed with a sense of urgency, both girls hurried forward through the blackness, tentatively feeling for any sign of ropes.

  “You can’t hide for long, girls,” the guard growled. “I know this place like the back of my hand!” He sounded as if he were only a few yards away now.

  “Got it, here, here’s a rope!” Sandy whispered, pulling Ann to the left.

  A burst of triumph surged through Ann as she leaned forward and gripped the rope. “Step over it,” she whispered to Sandy. The two of them stepped carefully over the rope, and Ann started feeling around in the dark until her hands br
ushed fur.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” the guard sneered from somewhere close by. The pain from his injury was wearing off, and there was a tone of sinister glee in his voice.

  Ann felt frantically around, trying to paint an image in her mind of the animal she was touching. It was definitely huge, and the fur was long, thick, and shaggy. She was quite sure it was the big male polar bear. “Come on, this way,” she whispered to Sandy, leading her around the side of the bear.

  “I can hear you!” the guard growled. “I’m gonna teach you a lesson, you ungrateful little bitches. I’m gonna teach you a lesson you ain’t gonna forget anytime soon…”

  Ann led Sandy straight onward; if her memory were correct, the emergency exit door would be just a few yards behind the bear. She walked quickly but kept her hand held out in front of her. Soon enough, her palm collided with something solid. She felt all around it, praying that it was the door and not just a wall, and then felt a rush of relief as her hand brushed against the cool metal of the handle; it was indeed the emergency door. She turned the handle, opened the door and slipped through it, pulling Sandy behind her, and then closed it as quietly as she could behind her.

  She felt around and found a guide rail on the wall, and the two of them gripped it and followed the passage, moving through the inky dark for around five minutes before they came to another door. Ann found the handle and turned it, and blinding daylight came flooding in, searing their dark-accustomed eyes.

  “Hurry, get out, get out!” Ann said, pulling Sandy onto the street.

  Both of them came stumbling out of the museum blindly, keeping their eyes closed against the intense daylight until their eyes became sufficiently adjusted to open.

  And when they were finally able to open their eyes, the sight that greeted them made them both gasp and stumble back with terror and shock.

  4

  James wore Ann’s big hiking backpack on his back, and on the front of his torso, he wore a smaller backpack, into which he’d stuffed a few of his own clothes and snacks. He and Mary walked along the streets in silence for a few minutes. She was observing the scenes of unfolding chaos and keeping a close eye out for danger, but James was just staring at his feet as he walked.

  “I didn’t say goodbye to him,” James suddenly said.

  “You didn’t have to, sweetie,” Mary said. “Not after what he did to you.”

  “And I’m glad I didn’t,” James said, his jaw clenching and his pale hands curling into fists. “I don’t ever want to see him again.”

  Another surge of pain and guilt from old wounds tore through Mary’s insides. She remembered when she’d said those exact words herself, back when she was James’s age. But unlike the teenager next to her, her father had not been guilty of any sort of violence or abuse. She now regretted those words more than anything, but pride and shame had both prevented her from ever going back and apologizing.

  “I know that you’re dealing with a lot of pain and emotional baggage right now,” Mary said to James, “and that’s perfectly understandable. But I need you to pay attention to what’s happening here and now, okay? We’re going to have to get through some really sketchy stuff in the next few hours, and we might find ourselves in dangerous situations. I need you to be present, in the here and now, listening to me and paying attention to what’s going on around you. So don’t get stuck in here,” she continued, tapping the top of her head with her forefinger. “Please, James, I know it’s hard, but you have to put these feelings to the back of your mind for the moment, at least until we’re safely out of the city, okay?”

  James’s face crumpled up into an expression that was half embarrassment and half guilt, and he bit his lower lip and nodded. “Okay,” he murmured. “I’ll do that, Aunt Mary … and uh, thank you for doing this for me. If I’d been stuck back there with him, in this crazy situation, I don’t know what I would have done.”

  Mary gave him a quick hug. “You’re like family to me. I couldn’t have left you behind.” Another stab of guilt cut through her core, for she remembered how close she had come to doing exactly that.

  They walked along without speaking for a while, but it didn’t take long for James to break the silence again. “So, uh, there’s no chance my Xbox will ever work again?” he asked. “Not even if I got like, brand new parts for it from Japan or something?”

  “Sweetie, I know how much you loved your video games,” Mary said, “but you’re going to have to accept that—”

  A deep, booming explosion cut her off mid-sentence, and she instinctively dropped to the ground, pulling James down with her. The moment she hit the pavement, she covered her head with her arms, like her father had shown her all those years ago.

  “Holy shit!” James gasped, his eyes looking as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. “What was that?”

  Mary slowly removed her arms from her head and looked up, and saw a tower of thick, black smoke billowing up from one of the main streets, just two blocks away. Rows of skyscrapers and other massive buildings formed a visual barrier between them and the center of the explosion, but even here, the sounds of hundreds of people screaming in panic and confusion could be heard with chilling clarity. Then, cutting through the clamor of screaming and hysteria came the sharp cracks of gunshots.

  “We need to move,” Mary said, her voice low with urgency. “Come on, get up, move! Go!”

  She scrambled to her feet and hauled James up from the ground. The two of them took off at a run, with the sounds of anarchy and violence growing louder and more intense behind them. Mary had been planning on cutting across the exact street where the explosion had happened, but now she knew that she’d have to make a detour, especially since gunfire had now broken out.

  “This way,” she said, veering into an alley.

  James came staggering into the alley behind her, breathing hard from the short sprint. Despite the fact that Mary was over twenty years older than him, she was far fitter and healthier, and even this short burst of exertion had left him out of breath. “Just … wait … one second … please,” he gasped, leaning against a graffiti-covered wall, his face red and his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

  “Dammit James, this is why you should have spent more time outside, playing sports instead of sprawled out on a sofa, playing video games!” Mary snapped. She immediately felt guilty, though; it wasn’t James’s fault that he had a deadbeat dad who had never supported him or encouraged him to do anything outdoors.

  Before either of them could say anything else, though, shots rang out from the street they’d just come from and screams and shouts echoed down the alley. Mary could also hear the thumping of determined boots marching up the street; it almost sounded like a group of soldiers. Her sixth sense started pealing urgent warning bells in her mind, and she ran over to James, grabbed him by his arm, and hauled him forcefully down the alley. “We have to hide, hurry!”

  “Get inside your homes!” a deep, aggressive voice roared from the street, from the direction of the sound of stomping boots. “Every civilian is hereby ordered to get off the streets and into their homes immediately! Get off the streets now! Non-compliance will be met with lethal force. I repeat, non-compliance will be met with lethal force!”

  There was a large dumpster in the alley, and Mary made a beeline for it. She heaved it open and saw that there was room inside to hide. “Get in!” she said to James. “Quickly!”

  “In there?”

  “Just do it, dammit!”

  The sound of marching boots was growing closer, and soon the soldiers—or whoever these men were—would be close enough to see down the alley. The men kept shouting out that all civilians were to get off the streets or face lethal force, and as they grew closer, Mary’s heart pounded with increasingly frantic anxiety.

  James clambered into the dumpster, and then Mary scrambled in behind him and pulled the lid shut just as the gunmen reached the entrance of the alley.

  “Steve
, check down this alley,” someone growled in a deep, throaty voice.

  Inside the dumpster, Mary held her breath and quietly pressed her forefinger to her lips, signaling to James to keep quiet. He nodded, and Mary noticed his hands were trembling. She reached out with her left hand to hold his, but she slipped her right hand into her pocket and curled her fingers around the grip of her .45.

  They waited in the darkness of the dumpster, not daring to move or even breathe as the sound of the man’s boots came closer. He walked past the dumpster, but then stopped a few yards from it and started to walk back toward it. Mary’s heart started frantically pounding as she heard the man stop next to the dumpster; he was so close she could hear him breathing. Her sixth sense was screaming shrilly in her mind; her gut instinct was telling her that these were no army troops, nor were they national guard, or anyone from the government. She had a feeling they were part of something a lot more sinister.

  Moving as silently as possible, she slowly drew her pistol and aimed it at the dumpster lid, her finger resting on the trigger, ready to fire in a heartbeat if necessary. Suddenly, the lid opened a crack, and Mary’s heart almost stopped, but the man wasn’t looking in; he was facing away from them. He casually dropped a burning cigarette butt into the dumpster and then dropped the lid shut again.

  In the brief glimpse she’d caught of him, she’d seen a man dressed all in black combat gear, with a black balaclava covering his head and face. She’d also caught a partial glimpse of the firearm he was holding, which seemed to be an assault rifle of some sort, perhaps an AK-47.

  She and James sat in frightened silence, listening to the man’s heavy boots moving farther away, and doing their best not to cough from the smoke that was trailing from the still-burning cigarette butt.

  “All clear!” the man yelled from the other end of the alley.

  “Sweep the street there!” the other man growled. “Keep moving, meet up at the end of the block!”