FACING UNFAMILIAR GROUND _an EMP survival story Read online

  FACING UNFAMILAR GROUND

  An EMP Survival Story

  Connor Mccoy

  Copyright © 2018 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 One

  Ever since the EMP event, when night descended, the city had been dark and ominous. Even the full moon couldn’t illuminate the streets in the depths of the city. Walking was a hazard that most people avoided. Only the bravest, the meanest, and sometimes the quick and cleverest dared venture out.

  The three men on the street now were a combination, one who thought he was quick and clever in the clutches of two of the largest and meanest men in the city. Perhaps it was unfair to label them both as mean. While one enjoyed the power he wielded, for the other it was employment. A means to an end. As long as he was employed by the powerful, his family was safe. He did his job well, but he was not cruel.

  They dragged the man caught between them farther into the shadows between two buildings, causing him to plead more frantically. He was desperate, struggling and twisting, trying to wrest his thin arms from the beefy hands of the larger men. But these men had dragged bigger, stronger, and tougher subjects down this street.

  They turned into an alleyway, and the man’s pleading dropped to a whimper as the walls closed in around them, along with the darkness. It was so dark now that the three could not see each other’s faces. They turned again and started down a flight of stairs leading to the basement of an old concrete building. As they reached the bottom, torches on either side of the door illuminated a mural painted there.

  A black and gray jackal’s head had been painted there, the ugly yellow teeth closing in on the top of the door. Beyond the jackal were images of death that the men did not care to look at. Below the teeth was a sign that read THE KOUPE TRIBINAL. The quick and clever man stopped struggling and retched, his eyes rolling back in his head.

  The door opened immediately at the tap of a knuckle and, once the three men were inside, closed behind them. They moved into a large empty room with a dais built into the far end. The walls around the platform were lit with candles, which left the people seated there in shadow.

  The quivering man was brought before the faceless, nameless leaders of The Koupe Tribinal. He was dropped to the floor in front of the dais, where he landed on his knees.

  Chapter Two

  Glen Carter sat watching the sunrise on the deck overlooking the pond next to his cabin and thought about leaving. He didn’t particularly want to go, but he felt compelled, obligated by his profession, to rejoin the human race. The three young adults he’d begun to think of as his family had talked him into it. To be fair, Glen didn’t think they meant to convince him to leave this place. They knew he thought of it as home. But the more they talked about how bad the cities had become, how there was a shortage of physicians of any kind, how people were suffering from lack of medical care, the more he felt he owed society a debt and now was the time to pay.

  He sighed and got up, glancing around for any sign of his fox. Thank goodness he hadn’t allowed her to become reliant on him. He didn’t want her or her kits to suffer when he was gone. But he thought he’d ask Anthony to check in every so often. Maybe offer his cabin as a retreat from the stresses of town life. Anthony liked his alone time.

  Glen slid open the glass door and entered the room that served as living and dining room. Christian, Mia, and Sally sat leaning over a map on the table, discussing the logistics of cross-country travel. It had been a while since the three of them had made their way from the city to Glen’s cabin, and it hadn’t been a direct route. They weren’t sure of the details.

  “I don’t see any way around it,” Glen said. “I can’t in good conscious stay here while the people in the city are suffering. But that doesn’t mean you three have to come. You can stay here at the cabin. Eric and Anthony would help you with anything you needed.”

  “And we can’t in good conscious stay here out of harm’s way when we talked you into it to begin with. If we’d kept our mouths shut, you wouldn’t feel compelled to leave. So, we’re going with you. Hopefully, we’ll be able to keep you safe.” Sally looked determined, and Glen knew better than to argue with her when her jaw was set like that.

  “Can you be ready in two days?” he asked. “Or do you need longer?”

  “I think we can manage,” Christian said, “but why do you need so long?”

  “I’m going down to the town to tell Eric I’m leaving, and to tell Anthony to keep an eye on this place.” And to tell him the secret caches and gadgets that made the place invaluable in a world with little electricity, communications, or sanity. Although he didn’t say that part out loud. It wasn’t that he didn’t want the trio to know the cabin’s secrets, it was more that it would take too long to explain it all a second time. If they ever came back here, then Anthony could tell them.

  He took off for the town a little after noon. He followed the path worn into the ground after he and the trio had helped Eric liberate the town from the tyrant who had taken over following the EMP solar flare. Families had been reunited, and many of the townsfolk had made the trek to the cabin to thank them. Anthony had been a frequent visitor. He wasn’t that much older than the trio, and while Glen knew that he admired Mia’s spunk, it was Sally who he spent the most time with.

  This trip was going to put an end to that budding romance. It was too bad Sally wouldn’t stay behind. But Sally wouldn’t leave Mia, and Mia wouldn’t leave Christian, so for the time being, they were a unit. The trio who never would break out into duos, or reach for a solo.

  Glen grimaced. That ripple effect was well overworked.

  The town looked much as it had under Tyrell the Terror’s rule, except the guards who met him at the gate were welcoming. He chatted with them briefly and then made his way to the Town Hall, where Eric had his office.

  Glen almost was surprised to find him there. Quite often, when Glen arrived, he would discover an assistant sitting at the desk in the waiting room, whose primary purpose was to tell people looking for Eric where he might be found. Today, the desk was empty, and the door to Eric’s office was open.

  “Eric,” Glen said as he walked in. “You aren’t out inspecting your town today?”

  Eric stood and offered his hand for Glen to shake. “No, I’m giving my people a break,” he said. “Everyone needs a day to slack off every once in a while. Even me.” Eric smiled as he sat back down in his chair. “What brings you down to New Town? Problems on the mountain?”

  “No, no problems. At least not physical ones. I’m having a crisis of conscience. The kids have been telling me about post-EMP life in the cities. There is a shortage of physicians that I’m feeling compelled to help fill. I’m leaving the mountain, and it may be some time before I come back, if I come back at all.”

  “You’ll be leaving us without a surgeon,” Eric said, “doesn’t that wear on your conscience s
ome?”

  “But you have a doctor. Everyone here has access to medicine and your doctor. He even stopped drinking when Tyrell died. I almost said when Tyrell left. There’s a euphemism for you.” Glen laughed uneasily. “My point is, you’ll be okay. The town is well taken care of. Many people in the cities are not. I’m going to see if I can help. If I can’t, I’ll return.”

  “If you are able to return,” Eric said, frowning. “My advice would be to stay here and save yourself. You are doing the world a favor by being independent. Who knows what will happen out there? The stories I’ve heard aren’t pretty. They’ve kept me in small town America and, as you know, that wasn’t a picnic either.”

  “I can’t. I wish I could stay. But I have this highly specialized training, which I don’t have to charge for anymore, money being worthless. I owe a debt to society. I took an oath.” He sighed. “And frankly, if I could be talked out of this, the trio would have done it. They were quite persuasive.”

  “The trio? Is that what you are calling that motley crew you’ve grown attached to? Why don’t you just call them ‘my kids’? It’s true enough.” Eric walked out from behind his desk. “Come on, I’ll walk you out. I’ve been sitting on my ass all day.”

  They walked through the marble building, with its beautiful wooden balustrades and polished floor. It echoed with emptiness, most of the departments that used to be housed here not pertinent to post-EMP living.

  “Where can I find Anthony?” Glen asked as they stepped out into the crisp spring air. “I’m going to offer him the use of the cabin while I’m gone.”

  “Do you really think you’ll be coming back?” Eric asked. “It’s tough to get out of here, harder to get back, I’m told.”

  “Don’t know,” Glen said, “but I don’t like to think of it as permanent. Psychologically, it makes leaving easier if I’m planning on coming back.”

  Eric nodded sadly. “Anthony is out at the north wall,” he said. “He’s supervising repairs.”

  The men said their goodbyes and shook hands again before Glen set out for the north wall. His path took him down Main Street, past the pharmacy he’d robbed and the street that ran to the library, where he’d met Terror and been knocked unconscious during the last fight over ownership of the town. He had conflicting memories of the town now. There were good memories overlaying the bad.

  He’d helped inventory the pharmacy and set up protocols for the use of limited medicines once the fight was over. He’d spent hours in the library reading both fiction and non-fiction before they’d returned up the mountain to the cabin. And, on many occasions, he’d been invited to dinner in the house where he’d been confined to a closet. Those didn’t obliterate the other memories but, laid overtop them, left him with a bittersweet feeling toward the town.

  He found Anthony puzzling over a structural flaw in the corrugated metal wall that was the town’s northern perimeter. Someone or something had split the metal in what looked like an effort to leave the community.

  “Hell,” Anthony said, “usually it’s something or someone trying to get in. This looks like something that was in really wanted out.”

  Glen agreed. “Isn’t it the norm? Can I take a few minutes of your time?”

  Anthony spent a good half hour listening to Glen without interruption. When Glen was done, Anthony whistled a sign of his admiration for how Glen had adapted the cabin for a hostile environment.

  “So, you’ll watch it for me? Use it until I come home? Keep an eye out for the fox?” He didn’t tell Anthony that he’d named the fox and her offspring, that seemed a little too crazy cat lady to admit to.

  “Of course,” Anthony agreed. “I will be grateful for a place to go. I’m at home in this town, but there is no room for solitude here. And it’s a little too much like domestication. The cabin will make a welcome reprieve. But do come back, Glen. Don’t lose yourself in the city.”

  On the way back to the cabin, Glen wondered if Anthony meant don’t get yourself killed in the city, or don’t forget who you are. Maybe both. Anthony, for all his outward appearances, was a thoughtful man. Deep. But it was hard to see past the army pants and boots and his heavily muscled and tattoo-covered upper body. He had himself well disguised. Anthony was a Renaissance man. Just when you thought you had a handle on who he was, he’d surprise you with a skill unrelated to anything you’d seen him do before.

  “We’ve mapped out a route to the shuttle pick-up point,” Mia said when Glen returned. “But it’s a two-day walk, and we don’t know what days they stop there.”

  The scuttlebutt on the shuttle was that a group of people who had vehicles unaffected by the EMP had started a convoy that moved from city to city around the country. The timetables tended to be unpredictable, and sometimes the routes varied based on the needs of the drivers, but as it was the only way to get anywhere faster than horseback, people were willing to wait.

  Payment was difficult. Money was worthless. If you were attractive to the driver, you might be able to trade sex for transportation, but if you didn’t want to go that route, you had to bring food or fresh water. Some drivers would accept precious gems or gold, which were more comfortable to carry. You could run up a tab, but that could be brutal. If the driver came looking for you and you didn’t have what he wanted, you might find yourself without a vital internal organ or even your life.

  Where the fuel came from the trio did not know, but Glen knew the United States government had been stockpiling fuel for years. Anyone who knew the location of those caches would have a lifetime supply of fuel, and a very lucrative business.

  Glen had spent some time wondering what the government was actually up to. What did the president do with his time, stuck wherever he had been when the EMP struck? If he had been flying, then he was dead, and someone else had stepped in. But what were they doing? Working to get the power grid up and running? Chasing the disenfranchised away from the gates of the White House? Had they raided the Smithsonian for the old ham radios? In the end, it didn’t matter. It hadn’t affected his life, and it wasn’t likely to do so. Who knew how many years it would take to get even a skeleton infrastructure running?

  “What’s your best guess on the days they’d pick up at the closest shuttle stop?” Glen asked. “When should we leave?”

  “It’s a crapshoot,” Christian said. “Whenever we’re ready, I guess.”

  “Can you three be ready to leave at dawn?” Glen asked.

  They nodded, but Glen couldn’t help noticing that Sally looked particularly glum. She was torn, he thought, wanting to stay and needing to go. He hoped she’d think it was worth it when it was all over.

  That evening, after dinner, while they were all packing and getting the cabin ready to be shut up, Glen heard the girls talking.

  “You don’t have to come with me,” Mia was saying. “Stay here. Glen will let you live in the cabin.”

  “I can’t,” Sally said. “You’re the only family I have now. I mean, yeah, I like Anthony, but that’s not a sure thing. We’ve barely known each other.”

  “Hooking up moves a lot faster now,” Mia said. “You gotta go for it, Sal. Stay and see what happens. You’ll be safer here than in the city.”

  “I’d be alone here unless I moved to the town. And then I’d be an outsider. No, I’m going. I’m just not going to pretend to be happy about it.”

  Glen wondered if he should talk to the girl. Was there anything he could say that would make her feel better? Probably not. He’d better leave Sally to work through this on her own. Nobody liked a busybody.

  He wondered where that saying originated? Where had he heard it? His mother most likely. The second he thought of her he felt guilty. She had been alive when he’d disappeared into the backwoods of Michigan. He’d never even said goodbye. She had been frail, and he had been afraid that telling her what he was planning would have sent her into a decline. Chances were she was dead by now. Which was both a good and bad thing.

  He packed a few belo
ngings into his small pack, placing the medical kit on the bottom. It was by far the most substantial thing he was bringing. It was the one thing he thought he would need most in the city, and possibly while getting there as well. On top of that, he placed a clean set of clothes and what toiletries he still had. He wondered briefly what it might be like to live near a big box store or warehouse. You could wander over and get those things you felt you needed. Civilization still would be available until someone raided it and took the good stuff away. And someone would, he had no doubt.

  He set his bag by the door, surprised to see three backpacks bulging with things that were both heavy and obsolete. He was going to have to do something about that. He went to the sliding glass door and looked out. Christian and Mia were sitting side by side on the deck, feet dangling over the pond. Sally was wandering along the bank upstream, singing under her breath. She did that when she was nervous. He knew and felt sorry for her.

  “Oy! Children,” he said and waited until they all turned to look at him. “You need to come in and repack. Your bags are too heavy to carry, and will attract thieves.” He turned and went back through the door. They followed a moment later.

  “We’re not children, you know,” Mia said. “We’re all over twenty-one.”

  “Yes, but oy, ‘Adults!’, doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it?” he asked with a smile. “I suppose I could say ‘young adults,’ or ‘adults in training,’ or ‘people--”

  “Fine,” Mia said, laughing. “We’ll come up with a name for you to call us. What about a family name. Like, oy, Browns? That would work, wouldn’t it? And then you wouldn’t have to identify us by a physical attribute. And it still would work ten years from now.”