End Days Super Boxset (202 page)

James and Russell’s men arrived late at night, around two in the morning. Their three captives were as confused and scared as ever. They knew nothing about where they were or who they were with. All they knew was that their lives were in danger. They had seen their uncle get blown away by home invaders, saw their parents being threatened and humiliated, and then they were dragged out of their house at gunpoint. What were these people going to do with them? They sensed some humanity in James, though they didn’t know his name or anything about him, though for a moment, after the shooting, he had looked shocked, not like the other goons who pulled them from their house.

They parked the truck back in its original spot. They were home. Kyle and Eli jumped down from the cab, grabbing their backpacks and weapons. Eli secured the truck while Kyle let down the tailgate. There was a sense of anxiousness and dread about how Russell was going to react when he heard what had happened. But he’d have to accept the situation for what it was.

“All right, let’s get them out of there,” Kyle said. Quinn and Billy helped the boys down as Kyle stood at the bottom to guide them out. Their hands were still bound. Once everyone was out of the truck, Kyle looked at James.

“You good, man?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m good,” James said, nodding.

Kyle then looked to their captives. “We’re not going to hurt any of you as long as you do what we say, got it?”

The long-haired boy raised his head as the others looked shamefully at the ground. “Yes sir,” he said.

“What are your names?” Kyle asked.

“I’m Dustin,” long-hair said.

“And you?” Kyle asked the boy with the trim cut.

“Daren,” the boy answered.

“Dillon,” the last once said.

Kyle examined them carefully, taken aback by their similar names and appearance. “What are you guys, like twins or something?”

“Triplets,” Dustin answered.

“I see,” Kyle said. “Now look. We’re taking you to our camp. How you are treated depends entirely on you. You wanna act like prisoners, we’ll treat you like that. But it doesn’t have to be that way.”

The boys were confused and had no idea what to say.

“Let’s go,” Kyle said, walking away.

The boys followed, as Quinn and Billy walked behind them. James tried to maintain a level head and play along. He knew he had only so much time to alert his group and try to get them out of there. He hated himself for bringing them to Camp Liberty in the first place.

They approached the gate and were promptly let in. Rick and Pete, the night watchmen, were stunned to find three strangers in their midst.

“Whoa,” Rick said. “What’s this all about?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kyle said. “We need to get Russell and bring him up to speed. Our new visitors will go into Cabin C. I’ll need two armed guards and some food and water for them.”

“Where is Russell?” Billy said. “I’ve got to have some words with him.”

Suddenly Eli stepped between Kyle and Billy. “Not now. Just do what Kyle says.”

“But Frank—”

“I said not now, Billy, we’ve got enough shit going on.”

He stared Billy down until he turned around in anger and walked away.

“Go with him,” Eli said to Quinn. “And keep an eye on him.”

Kyle signaled, and the captives followed. James stood motionless as Rick and Pete closed the gate behind him. With so much going on, the opportunity was ripe for escape. The important thing was to stay low key and not make his intentions known. He thought about the college students and the teenagers they had pulled from their home. Could he save them all? He was certain to face resistance.

“Go to bed, James,” Eli said before taking off. “We’ll get this all worked out in the morning.”

James nodded in agreement and took a quick moment to study the front gate. The locking system was a simple design. There was a crank assembly system that would open the doors if turned clockwise. The challenge would be getting past the guards. Eli went off into the darkness, no doubt to revel in their plunder with Kyle and Russell. How could he have been so wrong about them? They weren’t preppers at all. They were psychopaths. James recalled the missing college kid, Chris, and Danny’s suspicions of foul play. It now made all the more sense to James.

He went back to their cabin and found everyone sleeping. A single battery-operated nightlight provided some visibility. James went to Mark first and shook him. He didn’t wake easily.

“Mark, Mark,” James said.

Suddenly Mark jumped up gasping. James backed.

“It’s me, Mark, calm down.”

“What?” Mark said in a disoriented tone. “What do you want?”

“We have to get out of here. We need to get everyone up and get the hell out of here tonight.”

Mark rubbed his eyes and sat up to gather his thoughts. “What time is it?”

“It’s late, and we have to go,” James said.

“Go? Go where?”

“Anywhere but here.”

At the McDonough Memorial Hospital, the man known as “John Doe” by the hospital staff was making a good recovery. He had fractured his pelvis, ribs, and collarbone. His legs were injured but not broken. When asked for his name, he still claimed to be unable to recall. The doctors chalked it up to concussions suffered in the accident. Probably a hit and run and they assumed that the man and boy who had dropped him off were in some way responsible. But that was for law enforcement to investigate. Amazing that they had done the right thing.

“You’re lucky to be alive, Mr. Doe,” the doctor said.

The man knew it to be true. He couldn’t remember exactly what had happened, but the memory was gradually coming back to him. He saw a van coming down the road and he waved at them to stop. When he noticed that the van wasn’t going to slow down, he decided to take the driver out with one shot from his revolver. But he had underestimated van’s speed, and how close it was. Before he knew it, he was lying in a hospital bed in terrible pain and unable to fully move.

As the days passed and his recovery showed promise, the hospital staff told him he had to leave, because there were so many other patients to attend to. Doe was given new clothes and escorted out of the hospital gate in a wheelchair, leaving with nothing but a pat on the back. He wheeled himself down the road and then made a painful attempt to stand up and move on foot. Each step sent jolts of pain rippling throughout his body. He was still bandaged and had been given ice packs to relieve the swelling. Ultimately, he was happy to be walking again.

As he limped down trash-strewn streets and saw so many others who were confused, lost, and hungry, his mission became apparent. Things were starting to come back to him. Washington D.C. was one of the few areas that was spared from destruction. The government had been afforded the opportunity to still operate, and he knew why. The EMP attacks were a ploy to pull the United States into a war that would change the balance of power forever. Some memories were coming back now with total clarity. Doe worked for the NSA and had information about a scheme to destabilize the U.S. and pull it into an unwinnable war against every country in the world that posed a threat to its interests. The plan was lunacy, but so far, it was working.

***

The fate of Chris: After knocking Chris out cold with the butt of his pistol, Kyle immediately called for help. Billy, Quinn, and Frank were tasked to assist, and they quickly rushed out of the camp with Chris wrapped in a green poncho. They placed him on the ground a good two miles from the camp and waited until he awoke. Billy and the others were moving fast up the ranks, and their abilities were about to be put to the test once again.

Chris eventually awoke with a pounding headache, similar to one hundred hangovers. He recognized Kyle immediately, but the others faces were new. Lying on his back, Chris held his head and groaned.

“What happened?” he asked. “Where am I?”

Kyle outstretched his arm and offered Chris help getting up. Chris extended his hand and was pulled up in one quick heave. Once on his feet, he stumbled back, feeling dizzy.

“There, there,” Kyle said. “Don’t go falling down on us again.”

Some things started to come back to Chris. The last thing he remembered was being confronted by Russell and Kyle. He then realized that he wasn’t at Camp Liberty anymore. He was somewhere even deeper in the woods.

“What’s going on?” Chris said, holding his head in pain.

“What’s going on is that you are free to leave,” Kyle said.

The situation made little sense to Chris, and he felt nervous seeing Russell’s men moving quickly to the side, holding their weapons. The man in the middle, Quinn, was a beast. They didn’t look happy nor upset. They looked patient and reserved. But why were they there?

“I’m not leaving without my friends,” Chris said.

His defiance had little effect on Kyle’s calm demeanor.

“That’s not up to you to decide, unfortunately. You’ve proven meddlesome, Chris, and we can’t take the risk.”

“What risk?”

Kyle stepped closer. “You see, Chris, this is your opportunity to just walk away and start anew. If you start causing trouble again, Quinn here is going to have to deal with you. I saw the way you looked at him, and I’m sure that’s the last thing you want.”

Chris studied the men, trying to stand his ground. He was gradually beginning to see that it was a losing battle.

“OK, so I leave. Then what? What are you going to do with my friends?” he asked.

“Your friends are in good hands. If you want to keep it that way, you’ll leave and never come back to this place. You’ll never tell a soul about us either. If you do, well, that’s just going to suck for everyone.”

“Your veiled threats don’t scare me,” Chris said. “You’re all a bunch of freaks. One big stupid freak show.”

“Enough flattery,” Kyle said, pointing ahead. “Just go and never come back.”

Chris looked at the path ahead. He had no idea where he was or in what direction he would go.

“Just keep walking that way for ten miles or so, and you’ll hit town soon enough.”

“This is insane,” Chris said.

“I’d start walking if I were you,” Billy interjected. “Quinn doesn’t like your attitude. I think he’s getting pissed.”

Chris shook his head in disbelief and moved ahead, kicking the ground as he walked. Suddenly, Billy pointed his rifle in the air and fired a loud, booming shot. Chris jumped and almost fell to the ground in a panic.

“Better get running,” Billy said.

It didn’t take much more to get Chris moving. He ran as fast as he could away from them without looking back. They watched as he got further and further away.

Kyle looked at the men, ready to deliver new instructions. “OK, time you guys got some
real
training. Give him a few minutes, let him get a good head start, then hunt him down. Remember, it doesn’t count if he sees you coming. Anyone can chase after a man and kill him. We need to maintain the element of surprise out here. It’s the only way we’ll be ready for the next phase.”

The men nodded in agreement. “Move out,” Kyle said.

Billy, Quinn, and Frank darted off in different directions, all of them steadily tracking Chris, their rifles aimed and ready. It took them ten minutes to find him. Frank fired the kill shot and won the competition. But there would be more opportunities down the line. Participation as prey in the manhunt was what awaited dissenters. It was their policy.

North Highlands Hydroelectric Plant, Columbus, GA

Tuesday September 22, 2020 5:00 p.m.

Smoke from the helicopter crash could be seen from miles away. The smoldering metal left behind a toxic aroma and little trace of survivors. A small team of technicians from the hydroelectric camp ran to the crash site in a panic. Among them was Todd Broderick, plant supervisor, and his boss, Mr. Patterson. There was no explaining how or why the helicopter crashed. The pilot may have been distracted and lost control. The helicopter may have malfunctioned and failed. Or worse yet, it may have been shot down.

Todd wasn't ready to rule anything out after what they had been through. Only moments before, a generator had exploded, killing one of their technicians, Woodruff, and badly injuring the mayor, following her surprise visit of the plant. Things had gone from bad to worse in an explosive flash. After the EMP strike the day before, it appeared as if aircraft, including helicopters, still worked. But no one was sure anymore. All they knew for certain was that there was little left in the ruins of the downed helicopter.

Mr. Patterson was beside himself. “Everyone stay back!” he demanded from the encroaching group. He was clearly flustered. His hair was a mess, and sweat ran down his red face. “Don't touch anything!” he shouted, looking at the wreckage in complete dismay. A small crowd gathered and surveyed the scene in pure shock.

“We need to put this fire out,” Todd said. He looked around. “Johnson, go get some extinguishers together.”

The smoke was getting bad. It didn't, however, discourage them from standing around.

“What about Woodruff?” Johnson asked.

“I don't know,” Todd answered. “I just know that we need to put this out.” The flames were rising near a tree line on the side of the road, and with the dryness in the air, Todd feared a wildfire. Johnson reluctantly walked off, taking some coworkers with him. Todd then approached his traumatized boss, searching for guidance. “What now, Mr. Patterson?”

Patterson stared ahead in a daze. “I don't know. This is a disaster.” He then placed his face into his hands in defeat.

“It wasn't your fault. No one is to blame for any of this,” Todd said.

Patterson snapped out of his stupor and lashed out at those huddled around.

“I told you all to stay back!”

The five or so employees looked confused at his outburst. Moments later, Johnson and some others rushed to the scene with fire extinguishers in hand. They sprayed over the entire wreckage, and the fire eventually died down.

“What are you doing?” Patterson asked them angrily.

“They're putting out the fire, sir,” Todd said, feeling a tinge of anger himself.

Patterson didn't respond. He pushed past them and examined the wreckage. Within the melted frame, he could see the shapes of charred bodies, but couldn't tell one from the other. A sudden sickness grew within his stomach from the awful sight, coupled with the stench of burned flesh. The crowd outside had grown considerably larger. There were close to fifteen employees standing around and gawking.

Patterson was hunched over and looked too upset to speak, so Todd raised his arms and took over. “OK, I think we've seen enough, everyone.” He was getting sick from the fumes himself.

“He's right,” Patterson said, rising. Everyone turned around as he approached them. “There's nothing we can do out here. No signs of any survivors. I want everyone back inside.”

The team looked at Patterson like he was crazy. “You heard me, we have a job to do, people,” he said. There was some mild protest, but they eventually shuffled away from the crash site and back toward the plant. Todd took one last look at the remnants of the copter lying in the middle of the road as he walked back to join the others.

Once they got back inside, Patterson insisted that they get back to work, but spirits were low and they could be pushed no more. The plant was getting darker inside as sundown approached.

Through everything that had happened over the past twenty-four hours, Patterson remained undeterred. “All right, gather around, I want everyone to gather around. Listen, we're going to have to put all of this unpleasantness behind us and push on,” Patterson said, looking directly at Todd for support.

“What are you suggesting?” Todd asked.

“I'm suggesting that we get this plant up and running,” Patterson said.

“And how exactly is that going to happen, sir? We simply don't have the manpower.”

“To hell with the manpower. We're technicians, aren't we?” he called out to everyone else. There was no immediate response beyond long faces and indirect glances.

“It's over, Mr. Patterson,” Todd said, publicly contradicting his boss.

Patterson turned to Todd with a stunned expression. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

“We should have enacted protocol immediately when the plant shut down. There's nothing more we can do from this point.”

There were musings of support for Todd’s words as Patterson looked around in disbelief. Before he could say a word, however, Johnson interjected.

“What do you want to do with Woodruff's body, boss?” he asked.

“I'm not finished yet,” Patterson seethed. He turned to Todd, poking a finger in his face. “You're walking on thin ice, Mr. Broderick, and I've had just about enough of your flippant responses and underhanded comments. Am I the only responsible one around here?”

Todd began to walk away, which Patterson instantly noticed. Raising his voice, he yelled, “Where the hell do you think you're going?”

Todd turned around. “I'm leaving, Mr. Patterson.”

Patterson laughed. “How are you going to do that?”

“I'll walk,” Todd said.

Patterson was beside himself. “Get back here, all of you. Last warning!”

Todd kept walking, then pushed open the exit doors leading to the parking lot. The rest of the crew followed, leaving their boss distraught and livid.

His voice echoed throughout the empty plant as he continued. “You traitors, all of you will pay!” As the door shut behind the last person to leave, Patterson stood in the dark lobby, overwhelmed, as he considered his options. He had never felt more alone.