Final Panic: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (Surviving Book 2)

by Ryan Westfield

  Jim kept talking, but Jordan stopped listening.

  There was a rumbling sound off in the distance.

  “Sounds like an engine out there somewhere,” said Jordan.

  Jim and Andy stopped talking.

  It sounded like it might be a large engine.

  And it was getting closer.

  “You hear that too?” said Jordan.

  Jim nodded. He hadn’t put his revolver back in its holster.

  “It’s too far off right now to get a good look,” said Jordan. “But I’ll just pop on up to the roof.”

  “The roof?”

  “Yeah, I go up there all the time. You can see for at least a mile down that way. The way the trees are makes it… I’ll show you.”

  “I don’t mean to interrupt, but do you think I could get something to eat soon?” said Andy.

  “Stay there,” said Jordan, ignoring Andy.

  Around the side of the house, there was an old ladder that lay partially hidden under a pile of dead leaves. Jordan wasn’t a diligent sort of person, and raking leaves had always been the last thing on his mind. He took the ladder, got it up against the house, and started to climb.

  From the roof, he could see through the pine trees.

  “See anything?” said Jim.

  Jordan squinted. He could just make it out.

  “It’s an RV,” he said. “A big one. Headed this way.”

  “Great,” said Jim. “Just what we need.”

  “Wait,” said Jordan. “There’s another one behind it… and another.”

  “A caravan of RVs?”

  “Looks like it.”

  3

  Andy

  Andy wasn’t a cop.

  And he’d never been one.

  Of course, he wasn’t planning on telling anyone that.

  It wasn’t like he was innocent. He hadn’t just happened upon some dead cop and taken the uniform because he’d had to.

  No, he’d killed the cop. He was guilty. Very guilty.

  It hadn’t been his first option. But he hadn’t had any others.

  It had happened just yesterday. Andy’d been cooped up in his little apartment with the lights out, waiting for everything to go back to normal. He’d been waiting for the world to start turning again.

  He’d been scared. Petrified and shaken right to his bones.

  He’d been desperately hoping it’d all been a dream, that someone would pinch him, he’d wake up, and everything would be normal once again.

  But nothing like that had happened. He’d been running low on water, and his food had run out days earlier.

  He’d heard the noises outside, the screams and the chanting. He’d heard gunshots, and the occasional roaring of an engine screaming along the road.

  The cop had broken into his apartment, probably doing what everyone else had been doing, which was looking for food and water. Or maybe he’d just been doing his job, hunting down a crook, or trying to secure the peace.

  Andy had decided he wasn’t going down without a fight. Not only that, but he’d decided that it was time to act. Time to take what he needed. No matter whether it was right or wrong.

  He knew he wasn’t going to wake up. He knew it wasn’t a dream. Nothing was going to change unless he changed it.

  And so, when the cop had broken in and flashed his badge, Andy had done what he’d had to do. Or what he’d decided was necessary.

  He’d rushed the cop, taking him by surprise with a kitchen knife. He’d stabbed hard and fast, right in the cop’s stomach.

  It wasn’t until the cop was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, slowly dying as he bled out, that Andy felt a twinge of guilt.

  But he’d rationalized the whole thing to himself, telling himself that the cop was a bad egg, a bad cop through and through. Why wasn’t the cop out there, trying to serve and protect, instead of looking for food for himself?

  Andy created a wholly imagined narrative for the cop. Andy could only justify it all to himself if the cop really was bad. And with no way to really know, he’d simply decided.

  The human mind was capable, he realized then, of incredible things. Incredible patterns of belief. Incredible conviction in the face of overwhelming evidence. Incredible systems of justification.

  Killing the cop had been a turning point for him.

  Before that, he’d been frightened, waiting alone in his apartment, waiting to die.

  Before the EMP, he’d had a normal job. He’d been an insurance salesman. He hadn’t been anything special, and he hadn’t tried to be. He’d been completely content to go to work in the morning, head to the grocery store after work, and spend the evening relaxing at night by himself in front of the television.

  He’d hadn’t thought much about his lifestyle. But looking back on it now, it seemed as if it was all too easy. If he’d forgotten to pick up something at the grocery store, there was a phone app for that, and the food would be delivered to his door only minutes later.

  Everything had been taken care of. If there was a problem with the plumbing, it was a simple call to the landlord.

  If there was a problem with his body, it was a simple trip to the doctor. And a simple pill from the pharmacy to fix it all.

  Andy recognized that the EMP had changed all that. It’d never be like that again.

  The old system had vanished in the blink of an eye. Andy was smart enough to understand that.

  And the new way of life would be hard. Everyone would have to do everything themselves. There’d be no more deliveries. No more ease. No more getting someone else to take care of one’s problems.

  He’d have to take care of himself.

  Complete self-sufficiency.

  A terrifying prospect.

  So, as he’d sat there next to the dying cop, who mumbled something incoherently, Andy made up his mind to survive by whatever means necessary.

  But what skills did he have?

  Practically none.

  Except for his ability to sweet talk people into deals.

  He’d been good at his job. He could sell people policies they’d never need in a thousand years. He knew what to say, and how to find the right people. It was like he had an innate radar for picking saps.

  So the easiest thing to do would be to trick people. Trick them into getting what he wanted. What he needed. What he desired.

  With just a little bit of cleverness, he could approximate his old life, despite the craziness of this new world.

  Maybe food wouldn’t be delivered to his doorstep, maybe he wouldn’t be able to get a pill from the doctor for whatever ailed him, but he could certainly create a situation in which things were easier for him, where others could do the real work for him.

  That’s when he’d had the idea to steal the cop’s uniform and integrate himself into a community that had everything pretty much already figured out.

  Andy had heard about survivalists before the EMP. He’d read the occasional article about some guy building a bunker and he’d just chuckled to himself. He’d seen the occasional piece on the evening news about a community of survivalists preparing for the worst. And again, he’d just chuckled, knowing that day would never come.

  But now, those people didn’t seem so crazy after all.

  And they were out there, those survivalists. They were sitting pretty now, having done all the work years in advance.

  So how could Andy get in on that? How could he take what wasn’t supposed to be his?

  The idea stayed with him all through his journey out of the city. He knew he had to get out into the boonies, where he was more likely to find a group with a good setup. They weren’t going to be hanging out in downtown Rochester, that was for sure.

  It’d been a long journey out of Rochester and to the lake house.

  He’d found it more or less by accident.

  It had been a magnificent stroke of luck.

  One that he wasn’t about to give up.

  The uniform he wore would g
ive him prestige and authority. Or so he hoped.

  He had no intention of doing what he’d said and joining up with the police or the National Guard and trying to heal the country. That had just sounded like a good, believable line, one that would make him more convincing.

  From what Andy had seen on his way out of Rochester, the country was done for. Screwed. Toast. Completely destroyed.

  The only thing to do from this point on was to look out for himself.

  If he played his cards right, he could get a really nice setup for himself. And without much work.

  He’d have to see if these people here really had something good going on. If it seemed like they might actually end up surviving, Andy would ingratiate himself into the group as best he could. And then, when the moment was right, he’d do what he had to do to make things better for himself.

  If they didn’t seem like they’d survive, well, he’d take what he needed from them and move on to greener pastures.

  He’d kill again if he had to. Sure, killing that cop had been a shock to his system. But it had been a good shock, like a breath of fresh air.

  He’d do it again if he had to. And it wouldn’t shock him. Instead, it would invigorate him, give him the energy he needed to keep going on.

  4

  Jessica

  “What’s going on?” said Jessica, stepping out through the door and seeing a stranger there standing in a police uniform.

  Her internal defenses immediately went up. Who was this guy? Was he really a cop? What was he doing here?

  “How many RVs now?” Jim was saying.

  “Four, I think,” called out Aly’s uncle Jordan from the rooftop.

  “You think?” said Jessica sarcastically.

  “It’s hard to see through the trees.”

  “Who’s he?” said Jessica, gesturing to the man wearing a cop uniform.

  “A cop, apparently,” said Jim. “Aly’s uncle wants us to let him stay with us.”

  “With us?”

  Jim nodded, but he didn’t look happy about it.

  “That’s crazy,” said Jessica, who didn’t have any problem voicing her opinions in front of the stranger, even if he was a cop, and even if it was rude to do so. “We’re going to have enough trouble with the addition of Aly’s uncle.”

  “I know,” said Jim. “But he’s right. It’s his house.”

  “So, what are we going to do?”

  They were standing a little away from the others now, speaking in low voices to one another.

  “I don’t know,” said Jim. “Either stay here, or leave.”

  “Aly’s in no condition to leave,” said Jessica.

  “I know, I know,” said Jim, sounding stressed. “And we don’t have anywhere to go, either.”

  “There are plenty of places to go,” said Jessica. “Think of all the houses that are going to be abandoned now. People are going to be fleeing, looking for a better place, a place where they can survive.”

  “Exactly,” said Jim. “And if they’re leaving, it’s either out of panic or for a good reason. I don’t see someone leaving a house that has everything they need. So what are we going to do? Move into some abandoned house that wasn’t good enough for someone else? Where else are we going to find a spot near a lake, where we can fish, and get water?”

  The sound of the approaching RVs was loud now. Jessica could clearly hear their engines.

  A second later, the first one appeared at the end of the driveway. It was large, and it looked fairly new.

  The RV drove fast, kicking up dirt and dust as it passed the driveway.

  Another RV followed, then another, and another. Making four in total.

  Jessica looked at Jim. “What do you think they’re doing here?”

  Jim shrugged. “The same thing as everyone else. Looking for a place to survive.”

  “What should we do?”

  “Check it out,” said Jim.

  “Sounds good,” said Jessica, readjusting the rifle strap that was slung over her shoulder.

  “Not you,” said Jim. “I’ll go alone.”

  “We don’t know who they are. You need backup.”

  “We need someone here.”

  “Rob’s here. It’ll be fine.”

  “All right, come on. We’ll take the path through the trees by the shore. They won’t see us coming.”

  Jessica started walking towards the lake, heading towards the path. Jim stayed back for a moment, saying something to the two new men, and then he jogged to catch up with her.

  “You’ve got the binoculars?” said Jessica.

  “Yeah,” said Jim.

  They walked in silence in single file, following the narrow path that twisted through the pine trees.

  The sun, as usual, was hidden behind the clouds. It was a gray day, as most of them were.

  Occasionally, as they walked, Jessica caught glimpses of the lake. The water lapped gently against the shore. The lake wasn’t large enough to have real waves, but the ripples moved gently this way and that, giving her a peaceful sensation that was at odds with the situation.

  Jessica’s mind was all over the place, running this way and that.

  She didn’t think much about what was about to happen, about the newcomers in the RVs. They’d have to deal with whatever happened.

  Instead, she thought about the future, about the practical things that they hadn’t quite figured out yet. Like water purification, fishing, and ongoing medical care.

  The winter loomed large in her mind. Upstate New York winters were notoriously difficult. And that was with modern technology, with heat, with food in the supermarkets only a short drive away, with sophisticated medical care only a phone call away.

  How would they fare once the winter came? Sure, they had several months before the first frosts rolled in. But they couldn’t simply wait without planning, pretending that it wouldn’t happen. They’d have to gather wood, figure out how to heat the small house. They’d have to gather enough food and figure out how to store it. They’d have to figure out how much food the lake could provide, and then drill a hole through whatever ice formed so that they could keep fishing through the winter.

  They’d have to worry about their clothing, about boots, about the small countless winter issues that would become amplified into huge problems.

  Up in front, Jim stopped. He held up his hand with his fist closed, signaling for Jessica to stop as well.

  She already had her rifle in her hands. Her Glock was in its holster, fully loaded.

  They’d walked only a small part of the way around the lake.

  Jessica looked around carefully, but she didn’t see anything.

  Not yet.

  “You see them?” she said, speaking in a low voice.

  “I see the corner of one of the RVs. You see? Over there, by the beach.”

  Jessica looked, and sure enough, she saw the dim sunlight glinting off the fender of one of the RVs. They were still far off.

  “It looks like they might be parking near the beach. There’s a big parking lot.”

  Jessica nodded. She’d seen the beach only from the distance. From where they stood, they could see the beach across part of the lake, where the shore curved around.

  “Should we keep going? What’s the plan?”

  “Yeah,” said Jim. “We’re going to run into them sooner or later if they’ve decided to set up a more or less permanent camp here. And that’s probably what they’re doing. So, we might as well confront them now.”

  “Confront them? You mean just like walk up and introduce yourself?”

  “Basically,” said Jim. “But I want to get closer first. Check to see if they look like they’re carrying weapons, that sort of thing. Get a read on them.”

  Jim had spent time here before the EMP, and he knew the lake better than anyone except Aly, and presumably her uncle, too. He explained that there was a path that would take them around to the other side of the parking lot where the RVs were parked. Th
ey could stay behind the trees for most of the way, only having to cross the road once.

  Jessica agreed to the plan, and they spent another five or ten minutes walking along the path. The only time they were exposed, out of cover, was when they crossed the road. But there seemed to be no one there.

  When they were in position, they could see all four RVs lined up in the parking lot.

  “What now?” said Jessica.

  “Wait and watch,” said Jim.

  And that’s what they did.

  They watched the parked RVs closely. They took turns passing the binoculars back and forth.

  The idea was for one of them to always be the “spotter,” similar to how snipers worked in the military. That way, someone couldn’t sneak up on them easily.

  “What do you think they’re doing?” said Jim.

  There were a half dozen people or so gathered around the RVs. They were shuffling around, dragging things like coolers and tents around. It was hard to tell exactly what they were doing.

  “I don’t know,” said Jessica. “I’d say they’re setting up camp, but that doesn’t make sense. Wouldn’t they just sleep in their RVs?”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” said Jim.

  The people around the RVs looked normal enough. They were in their forties, fifties, and sixties. There were men and women, wearing shorts, pants, t-shirts. Just normal clothing.

  “OK,” said Jim. “They don’t look too dangerous. I’m going to go see what’s up.”

  Jessica nodded and watched as Jim holstered his revolver, stood up, and started walking towards them.

  She waited, rifle in her hands, ready to back him up if need be. From that distance, she was confident that she could get off a good shot or two if needed.

  But she hoped they weren’t dangerous.

  If they were, Jim would be in a bad position. He’d be outnumbered, and there was only so much he could do with his revolver, and so much Jessica could do with her rifle.

  5

  Aly

  Aly wasn’t feeling that well. But she was better than she had been.