End Days Super Boxset (179 page)

James interrupted. “They were probably out of reach from the magnetic pulses.” He stopped and grabbed a nearby pen. “Let's go over what we're dealing with here.” He began jotting. “Power grids are down. Automobiles of all makes and models are inoperable. Television, computers, and laptops are out. Handheld devices and tablets no longer work. Most businesses are closed or are closing their doors. The grocery stores will be cleaned out in a few days. There is no access to our bank accounts or any way to get money. And we can expect, at the very least, two months before anything can be restored.”

Mark sighed in frustration. He didn't like what he was hearing.

James continued. “This is the second night of this, and so far, none of us have witnessed any emergency responses.”

“Things weren't looking too hot in Atlanta when we left,” Terrance said. “It was already starting. We heard shots fired right within our neighborhood. It was early afternoon, and Christina and I were going to stay one more day. You know, to look for Richie. I heard them shots, and I knew it was time to go.”

“I didn't see any police. Not one,” Christina said. “I walked outside and seen people marching down the street, young kids, most of them. They were walking around like they owned the place. Looked like pure anarchy.”

James turned the radio knobs again. “If you'll bear with me, I'm going to try to get a signal on the radio again.”

Static came over the radio, rendering any communication unintelligible. Then he passed a station without pausing. For a fraction of a second, they heard something.

“Wait! What was that?” Mark said. “Go back.”

James slowly turned the radio knob in the other direction. The voice came and went again.

“No, you just passed it!” Mark said.

“I know, hold on,” James said, slightly annoyed.

He turned the knob again, and a voice came through the speakers. It was hard to understand with all the static on the line. It was the voice of a male announcer and sounded like something being played over an old phonograph.

This is an emergency broadcast message: All residents in the area with power or means of radio transmission are expected to pass the information disseminated in this broadcast to others in their respective areas. Residents of affected areas that have means for radio transmission should monitor this station frequently for updates. And now, we bring you a national news broadcast already in session:”

“We're standing here in the Rose Garden waiting for the president to make his address following a series of strategic and well-coordinated strikes against the nation's power grids. Experts believe that the strikes consisted of nuclear missiles containing electromagnetic pulses, or EMPs. The origins of these missiles are not yet known. Military officials state that the attack was launched to weaken, confuse, and destabilize the nation by an enemy country or rogue terrorist organization.

The EMP attacks have not only decimated the power grid systems of several key areas, they have also reportedly destroyed the inner circuits of automobiles, cell phones, and other personal electronics. Early reports state that the attacks are widespread, but do not cover the entire continental United States. Washington D.C., for example, was not hit. Experts estimate that 70 percent of the nation's energy resources have been disabled.”

James, Mark, Janice, Terrance, and Christina all looked at each other in stunned disbelief

“And now we will join the president, who has approached the podium, ready to speak.”

“My fellow Americans, we face a perilous challenge across our great nation, as several areas have been struck unexpectedly by what is known as an aerial electromagnetic pulse attack. Our government has been aware of this threat ever since the Cold War, and it seems that not too long ago, it only existed in science-fiction tales. But it is now a reality we must face. Reports indicate that 70 percent of the nation's energy resources have been disabled by these EMPs. That includes cars, trucks, cell phones, laptops, tablets, and anything that had run on an electric current. This presents a serious crisis concerning our hospitals, prisons, and schools, for starters, and we must be vigilant to get things back in working order. Of the several states attacked, this government is working with federal emergency personnel, military, and law enforcement to bring help to those who need it.

I would urge patience from all American citizens in this matter. If we descend into anarchy, then our aggressors win. We are at the highest levels of alert right now, and I urge all Americans to exhibit resolve and civility toward each other until we can bring the necessary repairs back to our power grid system. I intend to use all the resources of the federal government at our disposal to fix this issue and get the power back. We are fortunate that Washington D.C. was not among those regions hit. The government is still operational and can do its job. We are prepared for this crisis and will do whatever is necessary to maintain law and order. May God bless you all, and God bless the United States of America.

“Mr. President! Mr. President! Who did this?”

“Mr. President! When and where can people expect the support you speak of?”

“Mr. President!”

“And there we heard from the president of the United States. His comments were brief, and he didn't field any questions. He was surprisingly short on details. Currently there are millions of Americans awaiting assistance who were not able to hear his words, and as of now, all they can do is sit and wait.”

The reporter continued as James, Mark, Janice, Terrance, and Christina looked on in silence.

James leaned over and turned the radio volume down. “There you have it,” he said.

“EMP. We were dead on the money,” Terrance said.

“I can't believe that's all he said,” Mark said. “And he wouldn't take questions. What are people supposed to do now?”

“They shouldn't be waiting for the government to act, that's for sure,” Christina asked.

“But some don't have a choice,” Janice said.

James turned to look at everyone. His eyes were wrought with concern. “Seventy percent of the nation is without power, communications, and mobility. This is big. Bigger than I could even imagine. Bigger that I think any of us anticipated.”

“Martial law is right around the corner,” Mark said.

“What do we tell the children?” Christina asked Terrance.

“We have to tell them the truth. We're on our own,” Terrance said.

Far and deep into the Georgia woods, at least twenty miles away from the bug-out house, was a compound concealed under a large camouflage net surrounded by barbed wire on all entries. The parallel lines of wire, from top to bottom, formed a perfect square around the perimeter, and were attached to long wooden poles like power lines. Enclosed within were four modest log cabins positioned symmetrically from each other.

The entrance into the camp was made of two ten-foot wooden double doors. Inside, an obstacle course had been set up consisting of different makeshift stations: balance beams, tires, a rope climb, and pull-up bars.

There were also several log cabins with small windows that glowed from inside. They were so concealed by trees and tent-like netting from above that it would be hard for anyone even to notice their existence, if not for the light that flickered from within.

Inside one of the cabins sat Russell, a man in deep contemplation of what he was hearing on the radio. It was the Presidential address, and as the President guaranteed that the government could manage the EMP crisis, Russell looked increasingly frustrated. He ran his hand through his long, stringy hair and scratched his scalp frantically with both hands. He then moved his hands to his thin, sunken face and rubbed his eyes with similar frustration. Behind him, a man named Kyle paced the room with his arms linked behind his back like a general.

His black boots tapped along the wooden floorboards with each slow and leisurely step. The President ended his brief speech, and the broadcast quickly shifted over to the newscaster, who offered his own interpretation of what the President had said. Russell shook his head. Suddenly, he clutched a large hunting knife from the table near his radio, turned, and threw it at the cabin door. The knife landed directly in the center of a picture of the President.

“That lying, incompetent son of a bitch!” Russell seethed. He clutched his sides as if he were in pain.

Kyle took a step back, startled by Russell's unexpected outburst. They were both dressed in a mishmash of old-style military garb, green and black camouflage pants, black, long-sleeved shirts, and black skull caps. Whereas Russell had a blanket of stubble on his thin face, Kyle had a long, bushy beard that went all the way down to his chest.

“Take it easy, Russ,” Kyle said. “And watch where you throw that thing!”

Russell sighed heavily then jumped up from his chair. “I can't take it anymore. I can't sit around this place any longer.” Suddenly, he hunched over, out of breath, and went into a coughing fit.

Kyle approached him and placed a hand on his back. “You need to calm down, man. Remember your condition.”

Russell rose with tears streaming down his eyes from coughing. He cleared his throat and attempted to breathe, but only wheezed instead. He had anger and resentment in his eyes. “I don't need you to remind me of my
fucking
condition.” He stood up completely as Kyle removed his hand from his back. “We're wasting time. Time I don't have. I say we go to Washington now and finish this thing. Just finish it!”

Russell was seized by another violent coughing fit. Kyle stared ahead patiently as the static from the radio resumed.

“Russ, we gotta stick to the plan. It'll work, trust me. With the way that everything is now, it'll only be a matter of time.”

Russell glared at his compatriot. “I want to believe you. I want...to think that there's still hope. I just don't know anymore.”

Another man, Eli, entered the darkened cabin. He closed the front door slowly and walked past a row of neatly made beds on both sides where Russell and Kyle were standing.

“If we keep sending out the broadcast and stay on track, we'll have enough people here to fill twenty cabins,” Kyle said, pleading with a sickly Russell. “People are scared and desperate right now. They want answers. We've got all the answers they need, right here.”

Eli, a tall, skinny man with short, dark, curly hair and a mustache, approached the men, unnoticed. “We've got company,” he said, surprising the two men.

Kyle turned around, clearly rattled. “What are you talking about?”

Russell wiped spittle from his mouth and stood straight up, trying to control his breathing. He stared at Eli, impatient.

“Looks like new recruits,” Eli answered. “There's about six of 'em, all young. Looks like a bunch of college kids.”

Russell stumbled over to Eli and grabbed his arm. “So they heard it? They heard the message?”

Eli thought to himself then replied. “Not sure. They haven't said yet. They're looking for help.”

“OK, it doesn't matter. Let's go talk to them,” Russell said, putting on an old green army jacket. He walked past Kyle and slapped him on the back. “Let's go. Don't wanna keep our guests waiting.”

The three men walked out of the cabin together, leaving a single kerosene lamp burning on the table near the radio.

Outside, Kyle nodded to the other members of the camp, middle-aged men who wore militia apparel similar to his own. There were about fifteen of them in all, and they had all left their cabins at the announcement of the visitors. Most had beards or thick stubble on their faces. Living in the woods for months had created a “rite of passage” of sorts.

They had set up the camp over the past months with the clear intention of gathering and training a militia. The young visitors waited outside the open gate. They wore simple trendy jeans, shirts, jackets, and hats. Their cherub faces were dirty, and they looked tired and hungry. There were six of them all together, four males and two females, all looking to be in their early twenties. The camp regulars studied their guests intently, examining the packs they had strapped to their backs. They looked as if they were returning from a camping trip.

Russell pushed his way through his men with a demeanor of confidence and control. No one would have guessed that only moments ago he was hacking his guts out in the headquarters cabin. “Welcome to Camp Liberty,” he said to the young guests. “How can we help you?”

The kids seemed nervous and remained quiet, as no one wanted to speak up.

“It's OK,” Russell said with his hand up in the air, signaling calm. “We're good people here. You have nothing to worry about. You guys lost?” he asked.

“We are,” a blond-haired boy wearing a hoodie said meekly. His eyes were on the ground. “We're returning from a camping trip, but then our phones went out, and we couldn't find our way back to our cars.”

Another one of the boys, wearing a red skull cap, cut in. “Just like that,” he said, slapping his hands together. “All at the same time. No phones, no GPS. We're screwed.”

“That's how we came across this place,” the blond boy said. “We don't want any trouble or anything. We just...”

“We need help,” the boy with the red skull cap interrupted.

Russell approached the two boys and stuck his hand out. “My name is Russell; pleased to meet you.”

The blond boy took his hand and shook it. “I'm Shane, nice to meet you.”

The red cap boy followed. “Danny,” he said, nodding.

“Shane and Danny, welcome,” Russell said.

The rest of Russell's men stared at the group, taking keen notice of the two females with them. They hadn't seen a woman in two months. Strict rules of the camp dictated such. Russell, as their leader, wanted total commitment to the cause, ruling women and relationships as distracting. Now he was faced with a direct violation of this established protocol. As he thought of the few years, or even months, of life he had left, Russell decided that gender would no longer be an issue. He needed an army, and he needed it fast.

“What kind of place is this?” Danny asked, scanning the premises in awe.

“This is a place of survival, young man,” Russell answered. “A place where you and your friends are safe from the fears of the outside world. Here we have food, water, and shelter for anyone who needs it. Why don't you come into our meeting hall, take your rucks off, and stay for a little while?”

The group of travelers looked at each other with uncertainty. “I don't know, sir. We've already missed a couple of days of class as it is. We were hoping you could tell us how to get out of here. Maybe you could lend us a compass or something,” Shane said.

“Or a map,” another boy said, with trim, brown hair, and glasses, wearing a red Georgia Bulldogs jacket.

“You go to school? Where at?” Russell asked.

“We're college sophomores at UGA,” Shane responded. “University of Georgia, you know?”

“Yes, of course,” Russell said. He then turned to look at his men. Their blank expressions told him nothing other than to proceed. “I know it must be unsettling to be far from home and lost in the woods, but I think that you and your friends need to know what is going on.”

“What are you talking about?” Danny asked. His companions looked impatient and physically exhausted under the weight of their camping packs. The doors were still open behind them, as Kyle waited for the opportunity to close them.

“Since you've been out here in the woods, a lot has happened in the past couple of days. There are reasons your cell phones went out all at the same time,” Russell said. He held his hand to his mouth and began to cough lightly. “Excuse me,” he said. “Everything has changed. We're playing a zero-sum game. I don't want to alarm you and your friends, especially if you're tired and hungry. What I suggest is that y'all come inside, have a seat, get some grub, and let us tell you what's going on.”

Shane looked at his group. Danny shook his head no, as the others looked away. He turned back to address Russell. “Thanks, but we really should be going. Don't want to take up any more of your time.”

“You walk out that gate; I can guarantee you'll never find your way out of the forest. We're ten miles deep in nothing but thick, Georgia brush out here. Even if you find your way back, your cars aren't going anywhere. There's no power anywhere throughout the state of Georgia. A bomb wiped out all electronics. All phones. All cars. Anything with a pulse. How far do you live from here?”

“We live on campus,” the Shane said. “In Athens.”

“The only way you're gonna get there is on foot,” Russell said. “Trust me.”

Danny stepped forward. “Why should we believe you?”

“Because it's the truth,” Russell answered.

Shane put his hand up to silence Danny. He then looked to Russell. “We'll take you up on your offer. I think we need it. My girlfriend, Sally, sprained her ankle.”

Russell looked past Shane and saw a thin girl with long, braided hair, blue jeans, and a tight, long-sleeved white shirt. She was uncomfortably leaning on the bespectacled boy with the green sweater, with her leg raised slightly in the air.

“Of course it's all right,” Russell said. “Please, follow Eli to our meeting hall. We've got plenty of food and water there. Take some time to relax, and we'll explain everything else.”

The young visitors shuffled to the first cabin on their left, with Eli leading the way.

Russell looked to his men, who eagerly awaited his instruction. “I don't want everyone bombarding them, overwhelming them, or making them nervous. We'll all have the opportunity to introduce ourselves. At this time, I want them to feel comfortable. It's going to take quite a bit of convincing to bring them to our side. I need patience and cooperation from all of you. We can't let this stroke of good fortune go to waste.”

The men grumbled and nodded. Russell continued. “Now go back to your tactical drills. Kyle and I will talk to the new recruits.” He turned to the open gate and pointed. “Let’s get these gates closed and sealed.”

A few men split from the pack, went over to the gates, and shut them. Russell signaled Kyle to follow him to the cabin, and they walked off as the others disappeared into the darkness of the camp.

Russell and Kyle entered the cabin and saw the teenagers sitting on a bench in the middle of the open bay with their packs on the floor. The girl, Sally, had her leg propped up and resting on Shane's leg. Eli was chatting quietly with the group, and everyone turned to look at Russell and Kyle as they walked in.

“Eli, why don't you get our guests some food?” Russell said.

“Some water would be great, sir,” Shane said.

“Please,” Russell said. “Call me Russell.” He looked to Eli. “Get them some water before they die of thirst.”

Eli nodded, walked into an adjoining room at the end of the cabin, and closed the door.

Russell stood at the head of the table, examining the weary travelers. Kyle took a seat on the edge of a bed near the bench. “I didn't get everyone's names here,” Russell said with a friendly tone. “I know Shane, Danny, and Sally. What about everyone else?”

A boy wearing a flannel jacket and a Bulldogs hat with a heavily creased bill jumped in first. “Name's Jeff,” he said with a country accent.

“I'm Jacklyn,” the other girl said. She was a little thicker than Sally, and tan like an Indian. She had the blackest hair Russell could remember ever having seen.

The boy with the glasses looked at Russell and said his name in a quiet, reserved voice. “Chris,” he said. He was still wearing his zipped-up red jacket and gloves.

Eli walked back in the room carrying a five gallon jug of water and a stack of plastic cups. He placed the jug on the table and the cups down next to it. They examined the jug with curiosity, to which Russell took notice.