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  Defending Home

  Surviving The Shock Book 4

  Connor McCoy

  Copyright © 2017 by Connor McCoy

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter One

  In a world of darkness, where modern technology and convenience had been ripped from the hands of more than five billion human beings by nuclear explosions that lashed the air with electromagnetic pulses, the town of Eagleton was an oasis in the desert. It was a community forged in the southern United States, where people had learned to survive, to grow food, to build homes, even to salvage surviving bits of technology such as car batteries to create rudimentary sources of electricity.

  And Thomas Criver was about to leave it all behind.

  He didn’t want to, not because of whatever creature comforts Eagleton offered. To survive in this new world, hard work was the order of the day. No, this town was home to thirteen wonderful children that Tom called his own. He could recall them all by name. He had nine boys: Terry, Sam, Charlie, Fred, Rinaldo, Dominick, Michael, Irvin and, of course, Amir, a child who was born in, and had lived his early years in, Syria before coming to the United States. Then there were his girls: Alice, the oldest, then Annie, Jackie and Kristin.

  He just had said his goodbyes to all of them. It was temporary, of course. The parting was just, Tom hoped, for a few days. But it was painful nonetheless. Circumstances conspired to split father from children.

  Eagleton was a town that had endured many challenges, but the scariest thus far was a mysterious disease that had broken out among the population. The disease first had hit a couple who lived across the street from Tom and his family. Sadly, the affliction claimed both of their lives. The virus then spread to other citizens, and despite the efforts of Doctor Tran, a visitor from a nearby community, there was no way to contain the spread of the illness. Finally, many of the healthy citizens of Eagleton banded together and declared that all the people who were ill had to leave until they were healthy again.

  Tom’s wife Cheryl was included in that number.

  A former security guard and football player, the thirty-something Tom Criver was a man of action. If something struck him as unjust, he fought against it like a raging bull. Yet, in the past year, he had become a family man. Also, his opponents in this fight weren’t sweaty thugs with machine guns and fists that could flatten your nose in a single punch, they were confused and frightened people.

  People like Tom’s friend, Lee Issacson.

  Lee had helped the healthy people of Eagleton communicate among each other to get the exile plan in place. At first, Tom felt betrayed that he was left out of the planning. However, he had come to accept what had happened, and as he parted from Lee on the way out of town, he harbored no grudge against the man.

  “I promise that when Cheryl is well again, she will be welcome back in town, no question about it,” Lee had told Tom.

  Tom’s friend was one of many Eagleton men who had fought to liberate it from a band of NATO soldiers led by Major Gerard Volhein. The experience had helped Tom bond with a few of the town’s men. As Tom looked into Lee’s eyes, he felt his comrade in arms was telling the truth. So, Tom left him with great confidence.

  Perhaps it was a sign of how much Tom had changed that he bore no lingering resentment toward the masses in Eagleton who commanded their exile. He was a fighter to his very core. He usually met conflict with a quip, a protest, and if things got genuinely dangerous, a fist, a kick, or even a gunshot. Those skills had helped him fight off a malignant warlord named The Coach, who had imprisoned the thirteen children Tom and Cheryl now called their own. Those abilities also had helped him establish this town and fight off Volhein’s army.

  But now Tom Criver was faced with a different foe, one he couldn’t fight with his fists or a firearm. He was up against a mysterious disease and the fear it generated in the people. When it became clear he could not stop the town from exiling his wife, he took the best course he could to preserve his family—he would go into exile with Cheryl and nurse her back to health himself. With Cheryl recovered, he would return to Eagleton and reunite their family under one roof.

  Eagleton now was fully behind them. Only streets, a line of wooden posts holding power and telephone lines, and trees on either side beckoned to them from ahead.

  Tom pushed an annoying slick of sweat out of his short black hair. “It’s just like when we left to go look for Amir.”

  “Hopefully, this trip won’t end with you fighting for your life with a crazed mutant in a wrestling ring,” Cheryl said with a laugh, followed by a cough. The red-haired woman, an ex-U.S. soldier, managed to keep her poise despite her ill health.

  “If this trip is boring as hell I’ll be a happy camper.”

  Indeed, Tom and Cheryl knew well where to go. They had time to study road maps of the area and found a place on this road where it branched off into a cul-de-sac of houses. As it turned out, this area had been slated for development before the EMP effectively shut down the country. That meant there were little places here and there where houses had been built. Some of the exiles were headed toward them. So far, it seemed Tom and Cheryl would be alone at their destination. No one else was trekking this road.

  “Almost like we’re going on our honeymoon,” he said.

  He was surprised when Cheryl didn’t answer. Usually, his ex-military wife had a funny quip or response. “Cheryl?” he asked.

  “Huh?” Cheryl had been staring off, her expression almost dazed.

  “I said it’s almost like we’re going on our honeymoon.”

  “Oh.” Cheryl chuckled weakly. “Yeah, no joke.”

  She’s still sick, Tom thought. It’d be no surprise that Cheryl wouldn’t be at her best.

  As they hiked onward, certain things began to bother Tom. For one thing, he was passing her up frequently. Cheryl’s pace was slow, much slower than at first. She had wobbled more than once, but Cheryl would brush off Tom’s concerns and claim she just needed a second. Tom then insisted on a short rest. Again, she refused. She pushed onward until they reached the juncture where the road forked in two directions.

  Cheryl stopped at a yellow diamond sign with a cross symbol and held onto it. The woman’s struggles were simply too much for Tom to bear. Now she was clinging pathetically to a street sign.

  Tom got a look at her face. She was sweating, a lot. Her bottom lip was puffed out. Her skin looked flushed.

  “Cheryl,” he said gently, masking some frustration, “We need to rest and rest good. You don’t look like you can take another step.”

  “Electrolytes,” she muttered, “I’m…I’m real dizzy. But I’m afraid of sitting down. Might not get up again.”

  “I can pick you back up easy. Don’t worry. Take that pack off and sit down.”

  Cheryl obeyed, planting herself in the grass off the road. Tom administered a drink to her that was rich in electrolytes, along with some water and non-solid foods like applesauce.

  “
Good God, have you always been this bad off?” Tom finally asked.

  Cheryl didn’t raise her head. She seemed to be doing the absolute minimum so as not to exhaust herself. “I have my moments. You never usually saw them. When I sit down it’s bearable. When I walk, I go for a few minutes, but then it gets bad.”

  “Cheryl, there’s no way you can do a daylong hike in this condition! Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have grabbed the car and drove you here.”

  “I know,” Cheryl said, “But we have to leave it for the kids. We don’t have a lot of gasoline. We can’t waste it on this trip. If I can’t make it there on my own two feet, I’m not worth a damn.”

  Tom balled up his fist. If there was a wall nearby, he’d have punched it. “Son of a bitch.”

  “Admit it, you’d have done the same. No, I know you would have done the same.”

  Tom bit his lip. “Yeah, you’re right.” He hovered over her. “But do you really think you can handle this?”

  “Hey, I’m committed now. We’re getting there come hell or high water.”

  Tom then noticed the sky had been getting dimmer for a while. A cluster of dark clouds was moving in. If those clouds continued to gather, a flash flood might be just what they’d have to deal with if they didn’t make it to shelter in time.

  “Nadia, just get your ass in the wagon!”

  The outburst almost made Lauren Whittaker laugh. Even Nadia was chuckling, even though she had sunk so low she now was squatting down. Nadia Daniels was ordinarily a strong, on-her-feet woman carrying years of experience as a policewoman, but now she was as weak as a kitten.

  “I may be blind, but even I can see that you cannot go on,” said Jamie Cooper. He was standing near her, yet the thin, tall man was not looking in her direction.

  Instead, he was touching the covered wagon. Up until now he, Nadia and Karen all had been pushing along, while Lauren had taken the lead a few steps ahead of them, to help guide the wagon and to look out for any suspicious activity. Of course, they had been traveling on a road that just had extended straight for the past few hours, so guidance wasn’t a big problem. Still, in a world where society had been brought to its knees, anything could be lurking in the woods, scavengers, robbers, or even the henchman of a warlord.

  “I just…. need…a…damn minute.” Nadia’s breathing was increasingly labored. Helping to push along a wagon had drained a lot out of her.

  “You should have gotten in there hours ago.” Lauren hurried up to her. “Nadia, don’t worry. The wagon doesn’t need a lot of pushing to keep it going.”

  Lauren reached down and took Nadia by the left arm. Karen did the same for Nadia’s right, and the pair helped their friend to her feet. Sweat poured over Nadia’s ebony skin. The woman clearly was not well at all.

  “Have you been this bad for the entire trip?” Lauren asked with indignation rising in her voice.

  “Probably only when we passed the last road sign,” Nadia replied.

  “Nadia, in the wagon. Now,” Lauren said.

  Nadia looked at Lauren with an unspoken protest ready to go. But the disease had sapped even her strength to do that. Instead, she admitted defeat and turned to the wagon. She walked around back and climbed in, though not without help from Karen.

  As Lauren watched Karen work, she still chuckled at her “get your ass” comment. She had known Karen since a few months after she had arrived in town with a group of refugee led by Obadiah Stone, and while Karen had occasionally let off a “hell” or “damn,” she wasn’t very free with her profanity.

  However, things had changed. Karen Edwards had developed a harder shell lately, due to horrid events that would be burned into Lauren’s memory for the rest of her life. Their little town of Eagleton had been occupied by soldiers from a NATO force led by Major Gerard Volhein. Lauren and a large group of the town’s woman had organized a resistance, and Volhein’s men decided to make an example of Karen. They kidnapped her, and a group of his men raped and beat her. As the town’s top physician, she had had the unpleasant duty of examining Karen’s injuries and treating her.

  In the post-EMP world, Lauren had witnessed her share of evil, and it would be hard to top the things she had seen done to friends and family before she came to Eagleton. Karen’s violation, however, would be a top contender.

  Just then, Karen hopped out of the wagon, her boots slamming down onto the street. “She’s in.”

  “If there’s any trouble, let me know!” Nadia shouted from inside.

  “For God’s sake, don’t come charging out of there.” Lauren walked back toward Cooper.

  She was just like Cheryl Criver, another woman Lauren had come to know. Nadia and Cheryl were both women of action, and trying to get them to stop and let someone else handle a job was almost impossible.

  Cooper was fidgeting, though he still held onto the wagon like a nervous kid in a pool afraid to leave the edge. “Hey, you okay?” Lauren asked.

  “I have to pee,” he said quickly.

  “Okay.” Lauren didn’t get the problem.

  “Unfortunately, I won’t know where I’m aiming. I do not wish to hit the wagon, and I can’t see to go someplace more private,” Cooper said.

  Karen walked over and took Cooper’s arm. “Here. I’ll lead you off the road and you can do your business.” She rubbed his ebony skin, then gripped him tight.

  As Karen and Cooper stepped off the road and into the grass near some trees, Lauren turned to the road ahead. The tree line that surrounded them had tapered off some time ago, and they now were approaching an intersection. According to the road map she had brought along, this road was supposed to reach a juncture where it would branch off to a right-coursing street that would lead to a cluster of diners. East River was nearby. Doctor Tran and a large number of exiles would meet there.

  God bless them if they all reached there okay, Lauren thought.

  The juncture approached. A slight wind then blew through the doctor’s hair. The sunlight also was dimming noticeably. She and Karen looked up. An ominous, thick cloud was rolling into view over the treetops.

  “Great,” Lauren muttered, “That’s all we need.” Then she turned to the front of the wagon.

  “The steering column. It’ll turn the wagon onto that road.” She hurried up to it. “Jamie, get in with Nadia. We’re going to have to turn this thing and it’ll just be easier to put you in, too.”

  Chapter Two

  The task of getting the wagon onto the right-hand side road was a process of turning the steering column and applying the brake several times to make sure the wagon’s momentum didn’t launch it off the road and into the grass or a nearby street sign. But Lauren and Karen got the hang of it and managed to steer the wagon onto the right-hand side. From there it was a straight shot forward, and none too soon. The sky above now was completely gray, and thunderclaps were rising in the background.

  Three small diners and a gas station awaited them ahead. Lauren’s heart quickened as the wagon’s momentum propelled it closer to the buildings. They were guaranteed a shelter from the storm. A loud thunderclap then shook her to her boots. This storm was getting too close for comfort. Any moment it could come pouring down.

  Lauren picked a nearby diner and had Karen steer the wagon right for it. Once they approached the parking lot, Karen applied the brake and halted the wagon.

  “Nadia, Jamie, this is where you get out!” The doctor and Karen helped the two of them out.

  “We got to double-time it!” Lauren hurried into the wagon and started pulling out gear. “It’s going to rain cats and dogs!”

  “I’ll…” Nadia lost her strength and if it wasn’t for Cooper holding on to her, her nose would have hit the concrete.

  “Karen, get her inside!” Lauren called from in the wagon. “Jamie, make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid!”

  As Lauren frantically worked, she wondered, Where’s Doctor Tran? This is where we were supposed to meet up. Why isn’t anybody coming out of these din
ers to meet us?

  It was a race against the raging heavens. Lauren and Karen managed to get their two sick friends indoors with the survival gear and tie down the wagon’s cloth ahead of the pouring rain. Lauren just hoped the weatherproofing of the wagon’s cover plus the additional tarps inside would be enough to keep the equipment and supplies dry.

  Nadia was seated in one of the diner’s booths. Jamie stood against the counter, his arms spread out to grasp as much of it as possible.

  “I don’t get what’s going on here. Anybody staying in those diners could see us. Where’s Doctor Tran? Where’s the other patients?” Lauren spread out her arms. “There’s nowhere else to go unless they camped out in the woods, but that doesn’t make any sense.”

  Before Karen could answer, a creaking noise drew their attention. It came from the door leading to the kitchen.

  “We’re not alone,” Karen whispered as she drew her gun. Lauren did so as well.

  “What’s going on?” Nadia asked softly.

  “You stay here,” Lauren whispered back, “Jamie, you too.”

  “If there’s danger…” he began.

  “If there’s danger, you can’t even see it coming,” Karen swiftly replied, “So stay here.”

  “Karen, light,” Lauren instructed.

  Karen fished out a flashlight and held it with her left hand while keeping her gun in her right. The two women slowly approached the kitchen door. It was a swing door, so there was no handle or knob to turn. Gently, Lauren pushed it open. The kitchen was bathed in darkness. The only thing that could be made out were shapes, likely the stoves, ovens and cabinets. The odor was musty, but not as bad as it could have been. There should be rotting food and the like unless it all had been cleaned out.