EMP Post-Apocalyptic Survival | Book 3 | Days of Survival Read online

  Mark wiped it, smearing the claret over the length of the patch. More blood would be spilled. Much more blood. Starting with the man who disrupted their plans here.

  2

  The morning air just after dawn had been crisp and cool, but the moment the sun had risen into the clear blue skies, the heat of the day was in full swing. Ben Riker hiked through the woods, drenched in sweat, and paused for a water break.

  The past three days had been challenging to say the least, both for himself and for everyone else in the country. And while Ben might have been a little worse for wear, he was still alive and fighting to stay that way.

  Ben had prepared himself for an event like an EMP. He was a prepper, a survivalist, and had trained to weather the worst storms the world could throw at him. He was tall, well-muscled, and his green eyes held a reserved but intelligent gaze. And while his face was peppered with the beginnings of a beard, he was still the same strong, able-bodied lieutenant for the Asheville Fire Department.

  But if Ben was being honest with himself, the past three days hadn’t been without tragedy. He had lost good friends. And the stress of responsibility had already turned a few of his jet-black hairs grey. While he had always been in good shape, he was becoming more aware of the pain that plagued his joints and sore muscles. At thirty-five, he didn’t recover as quickly as he used to, or wanted to.

  Ben reached for the water bottle from his pack. The go-bag on his person was loaded with enough supplies to keep him alive for three days. It was standard practice for anyone who left the fire training facility where they had taken shelter.

  The world had been upended over the past three days, and the change had come violently and quickly. An EMP attack had crippled the country’s power grid, infrastructure, and communication. The devices and technology that so many people depended on to stay connected, aware, and alive no longer worked. In a matter of seconds, they had been thrust back into the Stone Age, struggling to survive.

  Most of the country’s population was unprepared for a catastrophic event of this size, and Ben had witnessed their suffering up close. And while Ben had prepared for such an event, he hoped it would never come to fruition.

  Ben returned the water bottle to his pack and took a moment to examine his surroundings. He had loved traveling these woods as a boy. Growing up, it had been more of a home to him than anywhere else he had lived. These mountains were his sanctuary, and he was thankful he could still return here after the wild fires that consumed Asheville.

  Because it wasn’t enough for the group of individuals who detonated the EMP to just sit back and watch the world devolve into chaos. They insisted on terrorizing civilians and burned their cities and homes to the ground.

  The unusually dry season had allowed the fires to spread quickly, leaving hundreds of thousands of acres, including Ben’s home, in ashes. Ben, along with his wife, two sons, and daughter now sought refuge at the fire training facility where he had trained as a firefighter. The river that cut through the area had spared it from the fires, and it had become their new home.

  It was difficult to lose their home, but nothing was more important to Ben than family. He would do anything for them.

  Ben continued toward Ted Bartman’s ranch, which had also been spared from the fires. The old rancher ran horseback riding tours of the mountains, and with modern transportation non-existent, Ted’s horses had become a valuable commodity. But the animals weren’t the only resource Ted had at his disposal.

  “Ben? Is that you?” Ted Bartman had one hand on his shotgun as Ben emerged from the forest.

  “It’s me,” Ben answered.

  Ted released his hold on the shotgun and leaned back into his rocking chair on the front porch, dressed in overalls, a plain white t-shirt, and a pair of black work boots. “You’re here earlier than I expected.”

  Ben walked up the front steps and shook Ted’s hand. “Early bird gets the worm.”

  Ted chuckled and then reached for the glass of sweet tea on the small table next to him. “Most of the time anyway.” He sipped the tea, and then pointed to the glass. “You want some?”

  “No, thanks,” Ben answered.

  “More for me then,” Ted replied, and he took another sip before he returned the glass to the table.

  Ben couldn’t help but grin at Ted, who acted as though the world hadn’t changed at all since the EMP. But Ted practically lived off grid himself. The man didn’t need much except for a few gallons of sweet tea every day.

  “How are you holding up?” Ben asked.

  “I’m fine,” Ted answered. “Warm today, so I was glad to have finished my chores early. Gives me time to relax a little from the weather.”

  At nearly eighty years old, it was impressive the old timer still managed to run this place by himself. He had lived alone since his wife passed away three years ago, and his children were grown and gone, spread out over the country.

  “Have you given any more thought to our conversation?” Ben asked.

  “I’m fine right here, Ben,” Ted answered.

  Ben offered to have Ted stay at the fire training facility, but the old rancher was being stubborn. “We have more than enough space and food.”

  “The horses are here,” Ted said.

  “We could come over in the mornings to take care of them,” Ben said. “Or even set up something more permanent at our camp.”

  Ted waved his hand and then picked up his glass again. “I’ve got everything I need right here.” He sipped, but then grimaced. “I do worry about the grandkids during all of this though. It’s hard not knowing how they’re doing.”

  “I’m sure they’re all right, Ted,” Ben said. “You said they live out in the suburbs where it’s less populated.”

  Ted wiped some sweat from his upper lip. “I told them to get a radio, just in case, that way we would be able to get in contact with one another.” He sighed. “But I doubt they would have been able to fix it like I fixed mine.”

  After Ted’s wife passed, his kids suggested he take up a hobby. He was resistant at first, but eventually grew an interest in CB radio. He had his license and a large antenna that allowed him to talk to people all over the country. And while the EMP had damaged it, Ted had repaired it, which was the purpose of Ben’s trip here this morning.

  “Are they in the barn?” Ben asked.

  Ted nodded. “Been at it all night and morning. I don’t think either of them got any sleep.”

  “Did they tell you anything?” Ben asked.

  “I didn’t bother to ask,” Ted answered. “Whatever’s happening, I doubt I’ll live to see the other side of it.”

  “I wouldn’t count yourself out so early,” Ben replied. “I don’t know many eighty-year-olds that could keep a ranch running for as long as you have.”

  Ted repressed a smile. “That’s kind of you to say, but the truth is I’ve been feeling my strength leaving me for a while now. I don’t feel bad, mind you, but… I do feel that something’s leaking out of me, and the cracks are getting wider every day.”

  Ben didn’t like hearing Ted speak of himself that way. “I’ll send some supplies over tomorrow morning.” Ben held up his hand when Ted tried to object. “I’m not taking no for answer. We can at least make sure you have some more sugar for that sweet tea.”

  Ted chuckled. “All right.”

  Ben left Ted to his rocking, glancing back at the old timer, who looked so calm even with the world around them falling apart. But he supposed age provided some prospective to life. Ted had seen and experienced quite a bit during his life. Ben only hoped to be lucky enough to make it to that age. He just wanted an opportunity to see all of his children grow up, and to have his own grandkids to spoil and worry about.

  But Ben knew the only way to obtain that future for himself and his family was to figure out how all of this happened, and the radio in Ted’s barn offered possible answers to the question that had been burning in his mind since the EMP was detonated.

&nbs
p; Who was responsible for the attack?

  The barn doors were open, and Ben found Ali and Marty Schwartz in the back near the CB radio. Marty was sitting down, half asleep while Ali was at the CB radio station, listening intently and transcribing everything she heard.

  Neither of them noticed Ben until he spoke up, startling both of them.

  “Jesus, Ben,” Marty said, still half-asleep as he rubbed his eyes to try and stay awake. “What the hell were you trying to do, give me a heart attack?”

  “You need to remember to stay on your toes,” Ben answered. “You’re supposed to be watching Ali, and the ranch.”

  “Yeah, well, it was a long night,” Marty said, yawning as he stood and stretched out his legs.

  The chatter coming through the CB radio was nonstop.

  “Has it been like this all morning?” Ben asked.

  “Yeah,” Marty answered.

  Marty Schultz had been a firefighter with Ben at the Asheville Fire Department. Most of their crew was stationed back at the fire training facility with their families, but they weren’t without their casualties. And as lieutenant, Ben felt the heavy burden of responsibility for their deaths.

  Of the entire crew Ben worked with, he was closest with Marty, who had become like a brother to him over the years. He was a thin guy, all wiry muscle, and a little shorter than Ben, but he was tough. Ben was glad to have him in his corner.

  Marty’s wife, Ali, had also proven to be a valuable asset. Because her family was Iranian, she spoke Farsi, which happened to be the language the enemy was using over the radio to correspond with one another.

  The initial radio blast of the foreign language suggested that a Middle-Eastern terrorist organization was responsible. But that theory contradicted what Ben had seen with his own eyes during the fighting after the EMP’s detonation.

  All of the combatants Ben saw terrorizing citizens in Asheville had been Americans. And while it wasn’t impossible for a Middle-Eastern group to recruit American nationals to their cause, something just didn’t sit right with Ben. He was convinced there was something else at play.

  The chatter finally died down, and Ali finished her scribbling. Eager to learn what the enemy was saying, Ben stood next to Ali, waiting until she finished before he started asking questions.

  “I don’t think I’ve written that much since school.” Ali flexed her hand and massaged her palm.

  “What’d you find out?” Ben asked.

  Ali sighed, the dark circles beneath her eyes a symptom of the long night. She flipped to the beginning of the notes she had taken and cleared her throat. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything,” Ben answered.

  “Right,” Ali said. “Well, it was hard for me to understand what they were talking about at first. They must be working with some kind of code, so a lot of what I heard didn’t make sense.”

  “What did they say?” Ben asked.

  “Just odd phrases,” Ali answered. “Things like ‘taking the kids to the circus’ or ‘deliveries for our father on are on the way’, things like that.”

  Ben nodded. “What else?”

  Ali scanned her notes. “Um, okay, this was interesting. They were talking about successful missions in the following cities: New York City, Boston, Philadelphia, Charlotte, Dallas, Atlanta, Nashville, and Cleveland.”

  “Jesus, they have people everywhere,” Marty said.

  “There was also talk about cities on the West Coast, but they didn’t have any updates on those yet,” Ali said. “And they said D.C. was still standing.”

  Ben rubbed his jaw, the scruff on his face course against his palm. “If the military still has control of the capital, then our leaders are still alive.”

  “And what good does that do us?” Marty asked.

  “It means we don’t have to start from scratch when it comes to rebuilding,” Ben answered. “It also tells us that while we haven’t seen any military here, they must be fighting to defend the capital. Anything else?”

  Ali studied her notes one more time. “Actually, yeah. It was earlier this morning. There’s a military post south of us, some kind of storage facility? I think they said it was for the reserves, but there isn’t really a direct translation for that in Farsi.”

  “What’s at the facility?” Ben asked.

  “According to the transmissions, it’s a logistical stronghold of food stores for the military in the area, used for emergencies like this one,” Ali answered.

  Ben looked to Marty. “I bet that’s the same place we coordinated with for emergency operations last year.”

  Marty nodded. “I think you’re right. That was for the wildfire and flash flood drills we ran.”

  Ben chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking. “That facility has enough food to keep any survivors in the state fed and alive for months. If that facility is taken out though—”

  “Everyone starves,” Ali said.

  “Why would they do that?” Marty asked.

  “Remember what they attacked in Asheville?” Ben asked. “Power plant, water treatment facility, and they even tried to blow up the dam. They’re attacking infrastructure to make it more difficult to rebuild. So long as the country is in chaos, they remain in control. They must not have the fighting force needed to take us in a straight-up fight, and they know it. So if they can slow everyone else down, making people fight over supplies instead of trying to fight them, it allows them to gain a stronger foothold. They’re thinking for the long term. We need to do the same.” Ben looked back to the radio and the notes Ali had taken. “Did they say when they were going to attack the facility?”

  Ali shook her head.

  Ben paced the barn. “It’s a half-day’s journey on foot. If we leave now, we might make it there in time to warn them about what’s coming.”

  “Ben, if we go to the military installation, then we’ll be putting ourselves at risk,” Marty said. “We’re not the army. I’m sure the military can take care of themselves.”

  “That facility is a storage area,” Ben said. “It’s not a military base. And if we do nothing, then the enemy takes away food that could feed tens of thousands of people who are starving. Not to mention feeding soldiers who will be in the fight.”

  “You don’t know that,” Marty said. “Hell, Ali even said that a lot of this stuff was spoken in code! They could be saying anything!”

  “I understand the risks,” Ben said. “But if we do nothing, it could cost us dearly.”

  Marty shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “You don’t have to,” Ben said, and then realizing they were already wasting daylight, he looked to Ali. “Can you stay here and keep listening?”

  “Sure,” Ali answered.

  Ben placed a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you.”

  Ali smiled. “Glad to help.”

  Ben mirrored Ali’s smile. He knew she had a rough go when her family first moved here from Iran. Ignorance had been a factor in more than one case of hate speech against her and her children, who were half American and Iranian, but it was only the Iranian half that people noticed.

  “I’ll send Marty back to get you before sundown,” Ben said.

  “I’m not staying with her?” Marty asked.

  Ben turned to Marty. “I need you to help guard the facility while I’m gone.”

  Marty pointed to his wife. “What about Ali?”

  “I’ll be fine, Marty,” Ali answered. “And besides, I’ll have Ted here if we run into trouble.”

  “Ted can barely get up out of his rocking chair,” Marty said.

  Ali stood and walked to her husband. She whispered something to him and then kissed his lips. Ben didn’t know what she said, but it seemed to calm her husband down, and she returned to the radio.

  “If you need anything to eat or drink, just ask Ted,” Ben said.

  “Okay,” Ali said.

  Ben stepped outside, allowing Marty and Ali a moment alone. He gathered the horses th
ey would use to ride back, and when Marty joined him, the man was still in a sour mood.

  “She’ll be fine,” Ben said. “Ted might be old, but he can sniff out an intruder better than anyone. And we’ll start setting up tripwires around the ranch tomorrow for even better protection.”

  Marty nodded. “If you say so.” He yawned.

  “Try not to fall off on the ride back.” Ben kicked his heels into the horse’s side, and they rode off in a trot. Ben glanced back at the ranch one last time before it disappeared and saw Ted Bartman raise his glass of sweet tea from the porch.

  It would be the last time Ben saw him raise it.

  3

  Liz Riker tossed the bloodied bandages on the floor and then wrapped Tony’s leg with clean gauze. The bullet wound on his leg was still fresh, and it would be a couple of weeks before he was mobile.

  “How’s the pain?” Liz asked, noticing Tony’s grimace.

  “Not as bad as it was yesterday,” Tony replied. “But still pretty bad.”

  Liz nodded as she finished securing the bandages. Tony Kipper’s wife, Melissa, stood nearby, holding Tony’s hand. The woman hadn’t left her husband’s side since he’d been shot protecting the facility.

  “Isn’t there a doctor somewhere?” Melissa asked.

  “We managed to get the bullet out,” Liz answered. “And he’s stitched up. So long as he keeps taking the antibiotics we gave you then everything should be fine.”

  The key word in Liz’s response was ‘should’. They now lived in a world that was far more dangerous than before the EMP. The slightest fever or cut on the hand could kill someone.

  “How’s it going out there?” Tony asked. “Everyone getting along?”

  “For now,” Liz answered.

  “I still can’t believe you let those people stay,” Melissa said. “After what they did.”

  Liz wasn’t in the mood to justify her decision again, so she didn’t respond to Melissa’s comment. “Get some rest, and make sure you keep drinking fluids. We can bring another case of water over if you need it.”