End Days Super Boxset (181 page)

“How can we help you gentlemen?” Terrance asked. His hands were to the side while his mind searched for a weapon or some blunt instrument just in case.

The man approached Terrance with the others in tow. The three other men stopped when he stopped and flanked him in a circular formation. The man stuck his hand out.

“Hi, I'm Bryce,” the man said.

“Pleased to meet you. I'm Terrance.” Terrance offered him a polite and firm handshake.

“Hi. I'm Tobias,” Tobias said, after shaking Bryce's hand.

Bryce then turned to his group to introduce them. “This here is Aaron,” he said, pointing to the man to his right: Aaron, a man with gray scraggly hair that went in different directions.

“How ya' doin'?” Aaron asked with a reserved smile. He shook Terrance's hand then gave Tobias a limp shake. All the men wore torn jeans, dirtied shirts, and were all equally scruffy. Dirt and mud caked their clothes. Black marks, resembling soot, covered their unshaven faces. They looked like prisoners of war. Homeless vagrants. Transient wanderers living in the forest. Their appearance was startling. Their elation at finding a house, and finding other people, was evident. Above all, they looked like they could use a good shower.

The man on Aaron's side leaned toward Terrance and shook his hand. “Scott,” he said with a nod. He had only a light red shadow of a beard. His red hair and freckles instantly distinguished him from the rest of the group.

The man on Bryce's left side waited his turn and then shook Terrance’s and Tobias's hands. There would be a lot of hand shaking that day, for the rest of the prepper pact was right around the corner, but unaware at the moment that they had visitors.

“I'm Jamie,” the man said. He had thick glasses and stubble on his young face.

The group then waited for the apparent leader, Bryce, to continue the conversation. He dutifully spoke up, lest an awkward pause come over their conversation.

“Pretty crazy what's been going on, isn't it?” he asked Terrance.

“We can't believe it,” Terrance answered.

“How did all the power go out? We can't figure it out. We came across a small store, but its shelves were cleaned out. This is a nightmare,” Bryce said.

“Indeed,” Terrance asked.

“We were surprised to see anyone living all the way out here. A stroke of luck on our part. We been lost in the forest for days.”

“That's terrible. Are you guys all right?” Terrance asked, trying to show concern. “How did you get lost out here?”

“We've managed so far. We left our homes, the four of us. We left our homes and our families to try to find out how far this thing stretched. To see if anyone still had power.”

“You're Milledgeville residents?” Terrance asked.

“Sure are. The closest store to us got cleaned out. Then they closed their doors. No one is helping anyone. Can't get the power company out here. Can't get nothing. You guys, though. You guys look like you're doing OK,” Bryce said.

“We're scraping by,” Terrance said, trying to downplay any notion that they were prepared for everything that had happened.

“You got any food?” Jamie said, cutting in. “Any water?”

“Is it just you and the boy living here?” Scott, the redhead, asked.

Terrance attempted to answer their questions carefully. “We have a little food. And we got some water. We'd be happy to share it to help get you guys back on your feet.” Terrance placed his arm around Tobias. “Yes, this is my son, Tobias. We got others staying here with us. Friends of ours.”

“So what is this, some kind of commune?” Scott asked, half joking.

Terrance laughed lightheartedly. “No, of course not. We're trying to get through this thing, just like you guys,” he said.

“We don't mean to pry into your business,” Bryce said, putting a hand on Scott’s chest in a symbolic attempt to back him off. “Some food and water would be great, if you can spare any.”

Tobias gave Terrance a quick look, as if telling him not to indulge the visitors. Terrance disregarded him and looked to Bryce with a smile. “Of course. Why don't you guys have a seat in the shade on our bench in the back? You must be exhausted.”

“Thank you, Terrance,” Bryce said. “It has been a rough couple of days for us.”

Scott cut in again. “How about a car? You guys got vehicles?” he asked, wild-eyed.

“That's enough, Scott,” Bryce said. He looked at Terrance with sincere concern. “You'll have to excuse my friend here. We're all a little on edge.”

“No, no. Don't worry about it,” Terrance said. “Follow us to the backyard and meet the rest of our group.” Terrance turned and walked along the side of the house with Tobias to the backyard, with the visitors trailing. He wanted Bryce and his group to see their numbers and to know that there were more of his people than theirs. He had to make peace with the visitors; there was no other choice. The men had nowhere else to go, but if they helped them out without revealing the self-sufficiency of the bug-out house, the men would leave in good spirits. That was his plan: keep the men at bay.

Terrance led them to the backyard where Mark and Janice sat on the bench cleaning their rifles. Terrance hoped and prayed that James was no longer working on the vehicles, which miraculously appeared to be the case. He had even covered the vehicles under tarp, as if he had sensed the visitors’ arrival. James was instead stacking firewood and branches. Christina and Paula both were no longer outside. Terrance thought that their numbers looked good.

Mark looked up and took notice of Terrance and Tobias. He then did an alarmed double take once he noticed the scraggly men with them. He touched Janice's arm in response. She looked up and turned to see the strangers only feet away from them. James hadn't taken notice yet.

Terrance cleared his throat and began. “Everyone, we have some visitors here,” he said.

Mark and Janice sat frozen. James looked up and froze as well. The men stood awkwardly behind Terrance and Tobias, awaiting the chance to introduce themselves. James walked over from his woodpile toward Terrance. “They're all from Milledgeville. Might even say, they're our nearest neighbors,” Terrance said.

James examined them carefully as Mark and Janice remained on the bench, clutching their rifles.

“Pleased to meet you gentlemen,” James said. “My name is James.” He felt more at ease that they were simply locals, but their grungy and unkempt appearance was startling.

The men looked up from behind Terrance, trying to see how many other people were in the backyard.

Bryce naturally stepped forward to introduce his crew. “Hi, James, I'm Bryce,” he said.

James waved to acknowledge him. “Bryce, pleased to meet you.”

Bryce continued. “And these are my friends, Aaron, Scott, and Jamie,” he said, pointing at each of them. The men nodded back.

Scott leaned toward Jamie and spoke quietly. “Looks like they're running off well water here,” he said.

“How can you tell?” Jamie whispered back.

“I just know. There's nothing out here, but this house,” he answered, scanning the house with greedy eyes. “It's perfect.”

Jamie nodded. “Sure looks that way.”

Bryce stepped forward and waved to Mark and Janice. “Pleased to meet you guys,” he said. They waved back, looking at the men with something close to pity.

Terrance could hear the grumbling of their stomachs in unison. “Please, have a seat. Kick your legs up, and relax for a little bit.” He led them to the picnic table as Mark and Janice stood up. The couple took notice of the men looking at their rifles. “Just coming back from some target practice,” Mark said.

Bryce looked to James as his group took a seat. “We're just so glad to find you guys. We got a little lost out there. Didn't think we'd ever make it out.”

“Whereabouts in Milledgeville you guys live?” James asked.

“Little trailer park off the route 441. I was just telling Terrance here our story,” Bryce said.

Terrance interjected. “They're a little ways from home. Been lost in the woods, for, what a couple of days?”

“We lost track,” Bryce said, wearily.

“Please,” James said. “Have a seat. All of you.” He turned to Mark and Janice. “Mark, Janice, could you get them some water?”

Terrance placed his hand on Tobias's shoulder. “Go get your mother and sister, please,” he said.

“OK, Dad,” Tobias said. He walked to the house with Mark and Janice, leaving James and Terrance with the men, who each took a spot on the long, wooden bench. James turned to Bryce. “You guys must be beat,” he said, sympathetically.

“You said it,” Bryce said, taking a seat.

“How did you guys find yourselves lost in the woods?” James asked.

“We were looking for anything and anyone. I mean, we've experienced power outages before, but nothing like this. Our families are waiting for us back home. We wanted to see if it was just us.”

“It's not,” James said. “Same thing has happened all over the country.”

“Are you serious?” Scott said, cutting in. Each one of the men looked at each other in disbelief.

Bryce stuttered. “How—how did this happen? Our van stopped working. I mean
all
of our cars stopped working. Phones too. The local store was cleaned out. Now you're telling me this is nationwide?”

“We're not sure, but we know it extends beyond Georgia,” James said.

Bryce was speechless, as were the men with him.

“I'm sorry,” James said. “But that's just the way things are right now.”

“I can't believe it,” Bryce said.

“How do you know all of this?” Scott asked.

James looked at Terrance. Terrance looked back at James.

“We believe that it was an EMP,” James said. “And that it was no accident.”

“What about New York?” Bryce asked.

“Haven't heard anything about New York,” James answered.

Suddenly the back door opened, and out came Mark and Janice carrying several bottles of water.

The men took the bottles and gulped them down like thirsty animals. “Thank you,” Bryce said between gulps. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” Janice said.

Terrance, James, Mark, and Janice looked at each other, trying to make sense of the situation and how they should proceed. James, like Terrance, wanted to help the men, but there was also an unspoken desire to send them on their way. Their mere presence posed a risk. James took a deep breath then looked to the men.

“You must be hungry too,” he said.

Their eyes lit up. “Very much so,” Bryce said.

“Perhaps we can spare some grub,” James said. “Give you a little to take back to your families too.”

“We'd be in your debt,” Bryce said. The men were excited and hopeful, and it showed.

James looked back to Mark and Janice. “Let's see what we can get our friends here,” he said, signaling them to the house. James looked to Terrance. “Terrance, keep them company while we get some food.”

Terrance saluted James. “No problem,” he said, though he felt a tad apprehensive being left alone with the men. “Tell Christina and Tobias to get out here.”

James, Mark, and Janice walked to the house. Bryce and his men watched them from the picnic table, curious about what lay within the house and what food or supplies they might have. Everything about the house looked normal. James and his people were clean. They didn't look starving and confused. It looked as though they had everything they needed. As he took another gulp of bottled water, Bryce believed that he and his friends might have hit the jackpot.

Friday, September 25, 2020, 9:05 a.m. (Four Days Before)

In a brown Chevy van parked on the side of the road, Bryce and his crew awoke after a few hours’ sleep. Days before they discovered the bug-out house, they were lost, in the middle of nowhere, sleeping in a van that no longer ran. Their road trip had been cut short following the EMP, and thus their plans for a relaxing week’s retreat at their cabin had been compromised. Most of the food and snacks they had brought for the trip were dwindling. They found themselves in a place as foreign to them as the quietness of rural Milledgeville.

Unlike what they told James, Terrance, and the others in the prepper group, Bryce and his crew were not Milledgeville natives. They were actually from New York City and had driven all the way from there in a used 1992 Chevy cargo van to a retreat cabin in Thomasville, Georgia. After their van died and their portable electronics were rendered useless, the men realized they were stranded. They were not familiar with Milledgeville and saw nothing but hills, trees, and forest along both sides of the barren two-lane road.

“Someone is bound to find us out here,” Bryce initially told the group. The first day, they tried not to stray too far from the van in hopes that another car would drive by. But no one did. Confusion followed, and after the second day of hanging around the van, they decided to start walking. Five miles down the road they found a small convenience store with all of its shelves emptied.

The owner of the store, an old man named Herman, had a skinny neck, sagging face, and strong southern drawl. He told them that the power went out all throughout the town. The group searched every conceivable shelf, nook, and cranny of the store, but couldn't find a shred of food. The place had been emptied a few days before.

“People came here in droves on the first day, took all I had,” Herman said.

“Where's the nearest town?” Bryce asked. The rest of the group walked outside and wandered the parking lot, frustrated.

Cradling a shotgun from his spot behind the register, Herman pointed outside the window to his left. “Closest place is Milledgeville. Not much out there but more fields and pastures. Business district is about twenty miles east from here. Might find some stores there that still got some goods.”

“Thank you,” Bryce said, handing Herman a five dollar bill. Herman looked at him, confused. “Just take it,” Bryce said, “For your troubles.” Herman took the bill and put it in his pocket. He looked outside where the others were. They looked like campers.

“Are you going to be OK here?” Bryce asked.

“Are you?” Herman asked back.

Herman looked to be at least in his nineties, and it concerned Bryce to see a man his age sitting in the dark behind the cash register of an empty backwoods convenience store. Herman reminded Bryce of his own deceased grandfather who, like Herman, had a southern accent.

“I think we'll be fine,” Bryce said with a smile. They were at least a hundred miles north from the city of Thomasville, their intended destination. A rented cabin awaited them for their week-long getaway of fishing, drinking, and all-around relaxation. That was the plan anyway, and now it seemed their vacation plans had gone up in smoke.

Bryce walked out of the store to join his group. He had light stubble on his face. With any luck they could walk twenty miles, where civilization supposedly awaited. They would find out what was going on and how to get the van working again. That was the plan. They had families to call back home, business to conduct, clients to assist, and finances to manage. To be suddenly cut off from the world was difficult and jarring.

They were financial advisers with Merrill Lynch, one of the largest brokerage firms in the world. Aaron, Scott, and Jamie, like Bryce, toiled at the bottom of the corporate ladder. They also had their coworker Gordon with them. Gordon, a prim man with short blond hair parted to the side, blue eyes, and square-framed glasses, was not like them and not liked
by
them. He carried himself differently, had lofty ambitions and unmatched integrity, something rare from their perspective.

Whereas it seemed that they had to scrape for each and every client, Gordon seldom struggled.

He had also, after all, threatened to expose their minor embezzlement ring, a scheme hatched among the four men to siphon government bailout money into their own offshore accounts. Gordon stumbled onto their plan after noticing discrepancies in the handling of government funds. He told them they had one week to report their actions to management before he alerted the security and exchange commission. After failing to convince Gordon to join them, they agreed to come clean, despite knowing it would mean termination, and possibly jail time, if reported to the authorities. If exposed, their careers were over, and as far as they knew, there was no more compromising with Gordon. He was set in his ways.

One night, while drowning their sorrows over a few beers in the booth of a swanky bar, red-haired Scott made a suggestion. “We make amends with golden Gordon. Really kiss up to him then invite him on our trip to Thomasville.”

Angered, Jamie cut in. “I don't want that asshole going with us. He'll ruin the whole trip.”

Scott took a sip of his lager then set it down. “He's not going to ruin anything. He won't be around long enough to do so.”

Bryce, Aaron, and Jamie looked at each other in confusion then back to Scott.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bryce asked.

“Gordon is the only link. Without him, we can go on with our lives, our careers, like nothing ever happened.” Scott put his hands in the air as if he were explaining a math problem. “Think about it,” he slurred. “Take him out of the equation, and there's nothing to worry about.”

Bryce attempted to play along. “How do we know he's the only one who knows? What if he told others?”

“Who is he going to tell? He's got no wife or kids. The man's a workaholic. Mister fucking perfect. Maybe he told some call girl or something during a late-night rendezvous. Who gives a shit? He certainly didn't tell anyone at the firm. If so, we'd be fuckin' dead right now. Fuckin' dead in the water. The asshole is bluffing, I know it,” Scott said.

“So what are you...what are you suggesting?” Bryce asked, narrowing his eyes.

Scott took another swig then continued. “I'm saying that we invite him along, that's all.”

No one elaborated any further, and it wasn't discussed in detail until a few weeks after their initial conversation at the bar. Specifics were never fully expressed, but everyone had a feeling, or at least an understanding, that the point of their trip to Georgia was to get rid of golden Gordon and see to it that he never found his way back to New York.

After leaving and saying goodbye to their families, the men drove south for two days, nearing Milledgeville, a few hours away from Thomasville. They were on a business retreat. That was the plan. It was a chance to kick their feet up and take their minds off their white-collar careers. By Monday morning, however, something had gone terribly wrong, and their van didn't work anymore. Not one of their cell phones worked, and they hadn't a clue of what to do. They were stranded. The cabin was too far on foot. Not a soul was around, and they still had Gordon with them.

After waiting for help that never came, Bryce, Aaron, Scott, Jamie, and Gordon stood in a circle in Herman's parking lot trying to plan their next move.

“Where do you think everyone went?” Jamie asked. “Not a soul around. Isn't it weird?”

“It's like a ghost town,” Aaron said.

“Clever observation,” Gordon said sarcastically. He seemed irritated. Everyone looked at him coldly then turned away.

Bryce spoke up. “The man inside told me that there's a town about twenty miles east of here,” he said, pointing down the two-lane street to their right. “Milledgeville business district. They might even have power there. I suggest we start walking.”

The men groaned in unison.

“You fuckin' kidding me, Bryce?” Scott said.

“Doesn't look like we have much of a choice, gents,” Bryce said.

“This is ridiculous!” Aaron shouted.

“Everyone just calm down,” Bryce said.

“We're fucked!” Aaron said.

Jamie put his hand up. “Hold on a minute. Bryce has a point. We've been hanging around that van for the past two days, and it's gotten us nowhere. Looks like everyone but that crazy old kook inside just packed up and left. We have to keep moving.”

“What about our things?” Aaron asked.

“We grab the packs and whatever else we can take with us,” Scott answered.

Gordon remained silently neutral, wondering if he had made a mistake in coming along. He didn't trust the group, but thought that they had turned themselves around. They did, after all, promise to pay back the embezzled money and inform management of their crime. He had given them a wake-up call, but also a chance to redeem themselves, though he was beginning to sense that he may have been duped.

There was something about the looks on their faces Gordon didn't like. No one would make eye contact with him. Their eyes would shift away as soon as they met his. No one had said much to him the entire trip either. What were they up to?

“How foolish to agree to go on this trip,” he thought. What was he expecting to come of it? They weren't his friends; they were criminals. Criminals whose crime was known only by him. He should have told someone else or created a backup plan. Something to protect himself. Then it hit him: he was there for a reason, and it wasn't to attend a friendly business retreat with coworkers. The van breaking down. The phones not working. It all seemed oddly coincidental, and Gordon was growing more paranoid by the minute. He had to escape.

They walked back to their rented Chevy van, rendered useless by an electromagnetic pulse a few days before. The sun was shining in full force. The chirping of birds echoed throughout the wilderness surrounding them. The road remained empty, and glowing mirages resembling puddles of water could be seen on both ends. The silence, save for sounds of nature, was unnerving. They felt abandoned by civilization.

Bryce had been the driver of the van, and his mind searched for inconsistencies. Did he fall asleep at the wheel? Did they crash? Were they in purgatory or worse?

Scott opened the back door of the van, and the men pulled out their backpacks and the snacks they had left. There were some cashews and trail mix, but hardly enough to quell the hunger in their stomach. The plan had been to stop for lunch before hitting Thomasville once they got through the long stretch of nothing.

Jamie tore into his trail mix, dumping the contents into his mouth, when Scott walked by and grabbed his arm. “Easy there, Jamie. We have twenty miles, maybe more to walk. We need to ration our stuff,” he said.

“Hey, I paid for this bag, I can do what I want with it,” Jamie said, mouth full of nuts and raisins.

“Suit yourself, but you'll be hurting in a little bit,” Scott said.

Bryce slung his camo backpack over his shoulders and began to walk away from the van. “Let's go, guys. We got a long walk up ahead.”

Scott, Jamie, and Gordon followed. Aaron closed the back doors to the van and jogged to catch up. They left the van parked on the side of the road without looking back. Between five men, none of them could get it working, no matter how many times they messed with the engine. As they deserted the van, they didn't look back, partly out of anger and partly out of disappointment. It had failed them, but maybe they had failed each other.

The journey ahead was their only option, and there was still the matter of the “unfinished business” before them. Holding a state map, Bryce led the way as Scott caught up with him. Aaron, Jamie, and Gordon trailed behind, walking along the right side of the road as their boots crunched the pebbles underfoot. They saw a sign ahead that verified what Herman had told Bryce: Downtown Milledgeville, 20 miles.

“So what town are we in right now?” Scott asked Bryce.

Bryce looked down at his map. “I'm not entirely sure. Somewhere outside of Macon,” he said.

Scott turned his head to look at the others. They were about ten feet behind, walking at their own pace. Aaron held a bottle of water to his mouth and drank from it. Gordon walked behind Aaron as Jamie plodded forward with his eyes on the ground. Gordon had been quiet for the past couple of days and looked troubled. Scott had grown suspicious of Gordon's silence. He believed that they needed to take action.

A few miles down the road, Scott spoke into Bryce's ear. “It's time,” he said.

Walking stick in hand, Bryce perked up and looked at Scott. “What are you talking about?”

“Don't be stupid,” Scott snapped. “You know exactly what I'm talking about. Time to cut loose the dead weight.” He jerked his head to signal behind them.

“I think we have greater things to worry about right now,” Bryce whispered.

Scott's face grew red. “You're wrong, Bryce. We have only one thing to worry about, and that's losing everything. Our jobs, our families, possibly our freedom. This freak accident is a blessing.”

“Don't say that,” Bryce said, interrupting.

“But it is! We got about twenty miles until we reach town. We need to take care of this problem here and now. Think about it,” Scott said, growing increasingly loud.