The Collapse

by E S Richards

  Len couldn’t believe how much the old man had at his disposal. He was beginning to think Harrison might be slightly insane; having a shooting range within your house had to be violating a few of the local bylaws. Of course he didn’t say anything, he was nervous to question Harrison anyway, least of all when he carried two guns with him.

  “Watch and learn. Oh, and put these on.”

  Harrison handed a pair of earmuffs and some eye protection to Len, tugging an identical pair over his own head before withdrawing one of the guns from his waistband and taking up a shooting stance. There were familiar targets littered along the shooting range, each at different distances and each with large bullet holes ripped through them. The lighting was dim, gas lanterns hanging from the ceiling in a similar fashion to the one in his bunker, all electricity long since shut down across the country. Len realized Harrison must have come down to light the gas while he was washing up, he’d not been apart from the man for very long aside from then.

  The pop of the pistol caused Len to jump backwards as Harrison fired the first round, the noise still shocking him in the enclosed environment, despite the earmuffs. Harrison didn’t even register it, focusing solely on the targets ahead of him as he fired four more times, each bullet hitting a different target along the range.

  Flicking the safety switch back on his pistol he turned to face Len with a smile on his face. “You get used to the noise, plus it’s a lot less intense when you’re not in a confined space. Ready?”

  Len swallowed. Firing a gun was definitely a step up from the bow and arrow, but he knew he needed to learn. Besides, he wasn’t exactly going to argue with Harrison after seeing how good of a shot the man was.

  “Stand like this,” Harrison moved himself into position, handing Len the other pistol from his waistband. “And hold your pistol like this.”

  Len did his best to copy Harrison’s stance, mirroring how he planted his feet and the way he angled his body toward the targets. He was appreciative of having some guidance finally and even copied the grip the older man had on his gun too, trying to place his fingers in exactly the same position.

  “When you’re looking at the target,” Harrison continued, “make sure you keep breathing. Your left hand is your support; that’ll guide where the bullet goes. Your right hand just squeezes the trigger. Don’t pull it; squeeze it. Line up the sights with where you want to hit, breath slow and calm, and gently squeeze.”

  On his final word Harrison squeezed his trigger once more, the last round in the weapon finding its target like all the others before it.

  “Go on,” Harrison nodded to Len as he stepped backwards slightly, giving him more room to focus on his shooting.

  Len stared at the target in front of him, the closest one to where he was stood. He tried to keep his breathing steady, ignoring the pounding of his heart in his chest and the unfamiliar cold metal in his hands. He forced his eyes to stay open, despite the fear that was coursing through his veins.

  If this is what it takes to reach James and Amy, this is what has to be done.

  Squeezing the trigger Len let his shot ring out into the shooting range around him, the sound making him flinch along with the recoil of the pistol in his hands. His stance immediately dropped, the gun hanging loose by his side. Peering forward Len looked at the target he was aiming at; it was already covered in bullet holes but none of them appeared to be from his weapon.

  “Close,” Harrison spoke up behind him, “try again.”

  Len regained his stance and stared down the pistol at the same target. He thought of his family, of everything he had gone through already on his quest to be reunited with them. He thought of how much further there still was to travel and everything that could possibly get in his way. With a look of determination on his face Len pulled the trigger again, forcing his body to remain still through the noise and the sensation of the bullet leaving his pistol.

  He didn’t move, focusing again as he saw one of the old tires set up at the back of the range jiggle ever so slightly from the impact, his shot having clearly sailed past the intended target. Instead he breathed in again, monitoring the slight quiver in his arms as his breath left his body. He fired again. And missed. Again. And missed.

  “Come on.”

  Len heard Harrison willing him on from behind, two more bullets left in the magazine. Adjusting his feet slightly so his weight was more heavily on his back foot Len pictured his bullet leaving the gun and lodging in the target. Pressing his finger down on the trigger he fired twice more, only then stepping back when his gun was finally empty.

  “You’re getting closer,” Harrison nodded as Len turned to look at him, disappointment etched on his face upon still not having hit the target. “Here, keep trying.”

  Harrison handed Len his own pistol, the magazine already reloaded. Len took the gun from him confidently, a different make and model to the one he’d just been using, although Len couldn’t even begin to guess what it was called. Facing the target, he willed his body to get it right this time. He didn’t. But on his third attempt one of the rounds finally grazed against the side of the target, the slight sway of the paper instantly putting a smile on Len’s face.

  “Well done,” Harrison said clapping Len on the back. “You’re getting there.”

  Len handed the pistol back to Harrison who flipped on the safety switch and placed the gun back in his waistband with the other. His ears were ringing from the echo of gunfire in the enclosed range and he couldn’t hide his disappointment with his unimpressive performance.

  “This is much harder than the bow,” Harrison offered, noting the look on Len’s face.

  Len forced a laugh. “I definitely prefer the bow.”

  Harrison raised his eyebrows, a part of him knowing that if they were going to embark on this journey together, Len would need to figure out his way around a pistol sooner rather than later. There would be time though, Harrison knew it would take them a long time to reach Michigan and then it would take him even longer to get to Canada. For his daughter though, he had to try.

  When the two men finally made their way back down to the bunker, night was starting to fall and the strange dance of colored lights began to creep over the sky once more. They were brighter now than they had been when Len witnessed them in the city, just after he’d emerged from the underground parking lot. Less smoke in the air made it that way he imagined and he marvelled at how such a phenomena had come to pass.

  Back down in the bunker Harrison handed him a cold tin of food, which Len demolished greedily. Although he’d done less walking than the days before, his concentration had drained a lot of energy from him and standing out in the blistering heat with the bow and arrow had made him tired and hungry.

  “You should get some rest,” Harrison nodded to the camper bed that remained in the bunker, “we’ll get going at first light.”

  Len didn’t need to be told twice, not sparing a thought for why the two of them didn’t sleep in the house or indeed where Harrison was going to sleep with Len occupying the only bed. Instead he merely thanked Harrison and laid his weary body down, almost immediately succumbing to sleep as his muscles relaxed.

  ***

  “Time to go.”

  Harrison’s voice woke Len the next morning, his mind momentarily panicking as he remembered where he was, who Harrison was and indeed what they were about to do that day. Then he instantly awoke, his body filled with adrenaline at the thought of beginning their journey to South Haven.

  Harrison was dressed and ready, doing his final check on the contents of his bag. Each thing was laid out on the floor of the bunker in an orderly fashion, the man mentally ticking things off in his head as he packed each one of them.

  “Better do your final checks,” Harrison nodded to Len’s bag at the end of the camper bed, “make sure you’ve got everything.”

  Len sat up properly from the camper bed and pulled his bag around in front of him, taking each object out one by one and laying i
t down beside him. He had everything Harrison had; save for a few extra weapons that Harrison had packed for himself.

  Len still had a pistol, although it would be in leather holster tucked into his waistband rather than stored in the bag. He also had a few knives that Harrison had packed and which looked utilitarian enough to be used for anything from gathering food to defending themselves, if need be. Although they both had plenty of food rations, Harrison had told him they could probably end up hunting at some point. That was why he was also taking the bow and arrows, Harrison very clear on how he didn’t want to waste ammo. It made Len nervous about what would be a good use for the ammo, but as usual he didn’t question the older man.

  Organizing his bag and making sure everything was safely fastened away, Len patted the shape of the wooden box through the fabric. It was right in the middle of the bag, safe from harm but close enough so Len could always reach it. He’d opened it up the day before to check all the contents were still as they should be, each item causing his heart to beat a little faster.

  When Len was happy—and Harrison had approved of his packing—they both ate a quick breakfast and filled up their canteens from the ample supply of water hidden in the bunker. Climbing out from the underground sanctuary Len wondered if he would ever see the place again. It had been a saving grace to him and ultimately had allowed him to begin the long journey to his son.

  With the bow and quiver of arrows fastened to his back alongside the bag, Len cast one last look down the street toward the rubble of his home while Harrison did the same to his own.

  While many memories of Amy and his son remained there, the thought of seeing them in the flesh again was far more important than what he had to leave behind. Len knew the journey would be long, desperate and probably dangerous but he was ready for whatever challenges approached him. He was a father on a mission and nothing was going to stop him from seeing his son again.

  Nothing.

  Solar Crash Book 2

  Available Now!

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  THE

  COLLAPSE

  SOLAR CRASH

  Book 1

  By

  Justin Bell

  Mike Kraus

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