Chaotic World (EMP Aftermath Book 2) by Grace Hamilton

Author:Grace Hamilton [Hamilton, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-08-09T16:00:00+00:00

19

MURPH

Murph’s fingers tightened around the crumpled photograph in his pocket. As the sky darkened outside, he took it out and looked at it.

They were in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of South Minneha. Some kind of sorting office for a giant delivery firm. He’d hoped they would find food, water, weapons. Instead, they’d found aisles and aisles of canned dog food and sacks of kibble. Still, they had enough supplies to last them for a while. Since the lights went out, they’d been raiding every store they could find. The last one had been a gold mine. One of those prepper stores that was sealed up tight — as you’d expect — with gray metal shutters.

No one else had had the gumption or drive to try and break in, but Murph knew a treasure trove when he spotted one. He’d left two men guarding the store while he’d taken the rest to find tools they could use to break in. They’d searched for days, rotating guard shifts with scavenging shifts, and adding to their food supplies as they went. Then they’d found it. A cordless angle grinder in the basement of some old run-down house. The house was abandoned, and the basement was creepy, deep underground.

“Surely that won’t work,” Ryan had moaned at him in his irritatingly nasal voice.

“It’s worth a try. If it was shielded, this far down, it might.” Murph hadn’t actually expected it to. When it did, he let out a cry of triumph.

A few hours later, the angle grinder went bust. But they’d made a big enough opening to reach the glass windows and smash them.

They’d crawled in. Fifteen of them. Two on guard out front. The rest back at the warehouse. It had taken days, but boy was it worth it. The store had everything. Everything they could possibly need. Tents. Sleeping bags. Water filters. Lamp oil. Camping stoves. Fuel. Fire starters. Matches. Knives. Slingshots. And guns. Lots of guns.

Remembering the thrill of dragging their haul back to the warehouse, bit by bit, over the course of an entire day, Murph smiled to himself. But then he remembered Britt. She’d picked up a red bandana and tied it tight around her neck; a replacement for one that had gotten torn off her in a skirmish a few weeks prior. Red hair. Red bandana.

Murph pushed her image from his mind and looked around the room.

At an overturned box nearby, his men were playing cards and swigging whiskey. Passing the bottle between them, they were getting louder and laughing more with every round.

“Murph!” Aaron shouted. “Come join us, man. Ryan’s getting his butt whooped.”

Murph ignored him. He was still looking at the photograph. It showed a woman. A beautiful woman. Smiling at the camera. In her mid-twenties, with long shining chestnut hair and red lips. But it wasn’t Britt. It was Allison. He swallowed hard and rubbed his thumb over the image of her face. Allison. He’d been in his late thirties when they met—one night at an upscale bar in the middle of town.

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