EMP (The Districts Book 1) (7 page)

He was a terrible father, but it was his one piece of sound advice that Anthony knew would prove to be his saving grace in the coming months. His dad always said, “One of these days, the government is going to collapse and you’ll need to protect yourself.” This, combined with his father’s insistence that he learn to be a crack shot, is exactly what he knew was going to keep him alive.

When the power went out and the electronics stopped working, Anthony knew if he moved quickly enough he could set himself up for whatever was happening. He knew that it wasn’t just a fluke, what had happened, but that the United States was under attack and government wouldn’t be coming to the rescue anytime soon.

He brought his truck to a stop outside the house and honked the horn. His longtime friend, and hunting buddy, Rick, came out of the front door with a pack slung over his shoulder and his rifle in his hands. He climbed into the cab of the truck and shot Anthony a grin.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Rick said,

Anthony put the truck in drive and sped off. The group of four, led by Anthony, had already ironed out a plan in the event should something like this happen. Anthony ran through plan in his head once more as the truck roared down the street, toward the house where Ned and Fred lived.

The four friends agreed that their best chance for survival, once the shit hit the fan, was to take over a big box store and to hold it no matter what happened. They knew that it was the only way to ensure they had enough supplies to survive the long term, even if doing so was a risk. There was always a chance, they knew, that it could be a false alarm and they might end up paying for their actions with their lives. It was a risk they had agreed to take, together.

Anthony stopped his truck just long enough for Ned and Fred to jump in the bed. He smashed on the gas pedal and took his first left as they headed toward the store they were going to hit.

Two months earlier, as the diplomatic relations between the United States and Europe began a downward spiral, the four men had spent two days scouting out every possible big box store that would serve their purposes. They concluded that the store, located off of highway 119 in Longmont would be the best option. It was a large enough store, and had enough daily turnover, that it would be fully stocked and its proximity to Longmont and I-25 made it desirable location.

The store also had a gas station, which they knew would become more valuable as gas supplies dwindled. Some of the other stores they scouted did have a more defensible location, but the one they ultimately chose was centrally located and wasn’t in a large urban area. The kicker, for them, was that they could get there within twenty minutes of loading up.

There was already a crowd forming around the front door of the store when Anthony stopped the truck on the fringe of the parking lot. Ned and Fred jumped out of the bed, grabbed their rifles and waited for Anthony and Rick. The crowd parted as the heavily armed men made their way to the front door.

“Hey,” the store security guard said. “Just like I told the rest of them, the store is closed until the power comes back on.”

Anthony lifted the AR-15 to his shoulder and aimed it at the security guards head. The balding, round, man took a step back and held up his hands. Anthony nodded to Rick, who walked up to the security guard and hit him square in the nose with the butt of his shotgun. The security guard crumpled to the ground.

“Get the keys,” Anthony said.

Rick bent down and plucked the keys off the belt of the fallen security guard and put them in the door. He unlocked the glass door and pushed it open. The crowd surged forward as Anthony stepped over the security guard and went inside. Ned and Fred covered their backs, their rifles aimed at the crowd as it inched toward the doors.

“Get back!”

A young man, in his twenties, slipped and was thrust forward from the crowd. A single shot rang out as Ned fired, hitting him the chest. Anthony watched as the crowd melted away and people retreated to the safety of their cars. He chuckled at the sight. It reminded him of cockroaches scattering across a kitchen when a light is turned on.

“Welcome to our new home, boys,” Anthony said, as he strode deeper into the store.

Rick slid the door closed, locked it, and put the keys in his pocket. The men split up, according to their plan, and began to take inventory of the store while Rick waited behind, to guard the entrance to their new home.

“Meet back here in half an hour,” Anthony said.

He disappeared behind a display of bottled water as a smile formed on his face. He was proud of himself, and his friends, and he knew they would be just fine in the coming months.

Anthony made his way to the back of the store to the loading docks. He checked to make sure all the doors were locked. He walked around the store until he found the offices.

This’ll be a perfect bedroom,
he thought. The room was big enough for a bed and there was a bathroom just down the hall. There was a single window in the room, small and just at eye level, which had vertical bars.

Anthony made his way back to the front of the store to wait for Ned and Fred. Rick was still standing at the doors, looking out into the parking lot.

“Anything happening?” Anthony said.

“Not much. A few people approached the door and turned away when they saw me. The security guard also woke up and he took off.”

Anthony turned around when he heard the squeak of sneakers on the floor. Ned and Ted rounded the aisle and approached, with their lists in hand. They handed them to Anthony and waited while he looked over the inventory. He nodded and shoved the lists into his pocket.

“Let’s get rid of some of the stuff we don’t need. Toss all the electronics and toys out back.”

“What about the clothes? We don’t need the women’s clothing right?” Ned said.

“Keep if for now. You never know when it might come in handy. Let’s pile up all the clothes, men’s and women’s in the back corner. We will need the extra space as time goes on.”

Ned and Fred turned and left. Anthony was proud of himself, and his men. They would have enough supplies to last them for a long time. He wasn’t content though. He knew they would need to go out and scavenge for more supplies. At some point the store, and the supplies it held, would be too great a temptation for starving people. Anthony knew it was just a matter of time and when it happened he wanted to be prepared.

Nick peeled his sleeping bag back and stretched his arms over his head, where they made contact with the wall of the tent and he was suddenly reminded of where he was.

When they pitched the tent the previous night, Nick had been excited to not be sleeping on the small love seat in the cabin, but he was ready to get back to it after one night on the hard ground. He wiggled around as he tried to stretch more, but it didn’t seem to be helping.

Nick tossed the sleeping bag aside and stood up. He loved camping as a kid, and even sometimes wondered why he had stopped going… and now he knew. His entire body hurt and he wanted nothing more than to sit on the love seat and eat his breakfast. Instead… he walked out of the tent and was slapping the face by the smell of elk meat smoking.

Nick looked around the campsite for Mike, but didn’t see him anywhere. They had built the smoking fire on the edge of an open meadow. Nick had wondered if it was a little out in the open considering Mike’s usual insistence on staying out of view, but he knew better than to ask Mike about it.

“You should always be aware of your surroundings.”

Nick turned around and saw Mike standing next to one of the trees.

“Yeah… I didn’t see you there,” Nick said.

Mike chuckled and walked toward him. Nick realized he probably had caught a glimpse of Mike out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t even realize it.

“Sorry,” Mike said, “I don’t want you to feel like I’m picking on you.”

“No, you’re right. I need to pay more attention.”

Mike walked over to the fire and looked to make sure it was still burning. He bent down and tossed three green sticks on the fire.

“I can’t stress enough. If you aren’t careful you could get yourself killed… and you could put me in danger, too.”

Nick took a deep breath. He knew what Mike said to be true. The last thing Nick wanted was for Mike to regret helping him. He was starting to get the world had become a cruel place and he had no desire to try and survive it on his own anytime soon.

“I know… I… I’ll be better.”

“Good,” Mike said.

Nick closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind as a light breeze danced across the meadow, sweeping his hair back. Everything seemed so new and fresh. It was a life he had never imagined for himself, but he was starting to get used to it. Everything they did was about surviving and it certainly made Nick want to get out of bed in the morning.

“Here,” Mike said, taking the knife sheath off his belt.

He walked over to Nick and handed it to him. Nick slowly pulled the fixed blade knife out the sheath and turned it over in his hand. The handle and the blade of the knife were black and there was writing on the blade where it met the handle that said
Ka-Bar
. He lifted the knife and turned it around again.

“I like the weight,” Nick said.

“Yeah… it’s a little heavy for extended use, but I like the weight as well… it makes the knife feel solid.”

Nick shook his head in agreement. He put the knife back in the sheath and held it out to Mike.

“No,” Mike said, shaking his head. “I want you to have it… I want you to learn to use it, because your survival may someday depend on a knife and I want you to feel prepared.”

Nick nodded and swallowed as he looked down at the knife. He really hoped it would never come to that… he wasn’t that familiar with using a knife outside of a kitchen, but he had a sick feeling in his stomach that Mike was probably right.

“Thanks… I’ll practice with it until I feel comfortable.”

Mike sat down on the rock next to their tent and pulled a compass out of his pocket. He stared at it for a few seconds before putting it back and turning his attention to Nick.

“I actually have something for you to do that will help you practice with the knife. Take my hatchet and go collect twenty or green branches. They should be about three feet long and about one to two inches in diameter.”

Nick opened his mouth to ask what for, but closed it again and just nodded. He grabbed the hatchet from next to the text and glanced at Mike before heading to the woods, but he was looking at something on the other side of the meadow. Nick quickly looked to see what Mike was focused on, but he didn’t see anything. He turned and walked toward the trees.

The hatchet was shorter than the axe Nick had used to split wood and he definitely preferred it the moment he used it to cut a branch off a tree. The light weight and shorter handle allowed him to swing it one handed while standing well out of the way. He was mortified of the possibility of hurting himself after the near miss when he was splitting wood.

It took Nick a half an hour to collect twenty branches that met the size requirements of Mike. He lifted them and wrapped his right arm around them and picked up the hatchet with his left handed before heading back to camp.

Mike was still sitting on the rock looking across the meadow.

“Did you get them?” Mike said, without turning around.

Nick was surprised… he didn’t think he had made any noise as he approached, but it just proved Mike’s point even more about being aware of one’s surroundings at all times.

“Yeah, I got twenty.”

Nick walked over to Mike and dropped them on the ground. He dropped the hatchet and pulled out his knife.

“What am I supposed to do with them?”

“Let me see your knife,” Mike said.

Nick pulled the knife from the sheath and handed it over. He watched as Mike picked up one of the branches and began to cut one of the ends into a point. He stopped and held it out to Nick when he had finished. Nick pressed his finger against the end of it and was surprised at how sharp it actually felt.

“What’s it for?”

“We are going to make a pitfall.”

“A pitfall?”

“Yeah… it’s a trap with sharpened sticks in the bottom. We are going to dig a pit, burry these into the ground and then put some light cover over the top. If any animals walk over it they will fall in a get impaled.”

Nick cringed at the idea of an animal getting impaled by a stick he sharpened, but he knew there were far worse fates. It was something he felt like he had heard of before and he just didn’t know the name.

Mike handed the knife back to Nick and stood up. Nick sat down on the rock and picked up one of the branches.

“Make sure to always cut away from yourself. I don’t want to spend my afternoon trying to field dress a bad cut.”

Nick nodded, turned his attention back to the branch and took a deep breath. He pressed the blade of the knife against the branch and tried to emulate what he had seen Mike do. Nick was surprised by the sheer force it actually took, but after about ten minutes his branch looked like the one Mike had done. He was a little disappointed in how long it took him, but he knew Mike was considerably more experienced with a knife than he was.

For the next two hours Nick did carved the other eighteen branches. He put the knife away and looked around for Mike, but didn’t see him anywhere. Nick balled his hand into a fist a few times as he tried to stretch his sore fingers. He could hardly believe how such a simple activity had made them hurt as much as it did. It was just one more thing to add to the list of things he knew would have to become a part of daily life if he were to survive.

“How’d it go?”

Nick jumped and turned to see Mike standing just a few feet behind him. He wondered how the man could move so silently.

“Fine… I just finished.”

“Good… good. How’s your hand?”

“Sore,” Nick said, looking down at it.

“Then it’s a perfect time for some pistol training.”

Nick raised his left eyebrow in surprise and stood up. He felt mentally and physically exhausted from gathering and carving the branches.

Mike pulled the Glock from his hip and handed it to Nick.

“Do you see that tree over there? The one with the bark peeled off it?”

Nick tried to follow where Mike was pointing and eventually saw the tree he was talking about. It was on the same side of the meadow as their camp and was a decent distance away.

“Yeah… I see it.”

“Good. I want you to see if you can hit the part with no bark.”

Nick frowned. He wasn’t sure, but he figured it had to be at least fifty yards off and the exact spot Mike wanted him to hit didn’t look bigger than a watermelon.

“I… that’s kind of far and small,” Nick said. “I don’t think I can hit it.”

Mike sighed and didn’t respond. Nick lifted the pistol and aimed at the tree. He squeezed the trigger and closed his eyes as the loud crack reached his ears. Nick opened his eyes and looked at the tree, but he didn’t see where the bullet had hit.

“Did I hit it?”

“No….”

The tone of Mike’s voice told Nick he wasn’t even close. He sighed and took aim again. He squeezed the trigger and tried to keep his eyes open, but he still closed them as a reaction. Nick again looked at the tree, but didn’t see a bullet impact. He sighed and looked over at Mike.

“What am I doing wrong?”

“You need to feel the gun. You’re treating it like some tool… like it’s not a living thing.”

Nick frowned. He had no idea what Mike was talking about… guns weren’t living things.

“I’m not following,” Nick said.

Mike took a deep breath and took the pistol from Nick. He raised it, aimed at the tree and fired without as much as a second of hesitation. Nick squinted and could see where the bullet had hit the middle of the target. Mike fired off a second shot, but as far as Nick could tell Mike hadn’t hit the tree.

“See?” Mike said. “It just takes practice to hit a target at this range with a pistol consistently.”

“But you missed the second shot….” Nick said.

Mike shook his head and handed the pistol back to Nick. It took a moment, but Nick finally realized that Mike hadn’t missed… he had hit the tree in the same exact spot. He took a deep breath and raised the pistol. Nick promised himself he would learn to shoot like Mike because his life one day might depend on it… that’s at least what Mike would say to him.

“And keep your eyes open,” Mike said.

Nick nodded, focused on the tree and squeezed the trigger. He winced at the loud crack of the gunshot, but kept his eyes open and saw an explosion of bark as the bullet grazed the tree he had been aiming at. Nick cracked a smile. It wasn’t a perfect shot like Mike’s, but he was happy to get close.