The EMP Grid Down Trilogy (Book 1): For Family by Randall Nick

Author:Randall, Nick [Randall, Nick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Post-Apocalyptic | EMP | Survival
Published: 2018-05-03T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 2

“Josie!” Roy called from within the bunker.

There was no response, only the sound of the choppers running outside.

“Blackhawks,” Roy said, recognizing their unique chatter from his time in the military. “Blackhawks, Alex.”

She daughter looked over at him.

“Are we okay now, dad?” she asked.

“I think so. They’re Army or maybe Marines. They’ll help us.”

Alex went for the door to the bunker.

“Wait,” Roy said. “Wait for me.”

He started to stand up, but found himself still dizzy, maybe even dizzier than before he went down into the basement. He hoped he wasn’t suffering a bad concussion.

“Hurry!” Alex said.

“Help me up,” Roy said. “I need a hand.”

Alex walked up to him and immediately wrapped her arms around him, trying to lift her father, in his tactical vest loaded down with ammunition.

“No, no,” Roy said, as he guided her a few steps back and offered an arm. “Pull as hard as you can.”

Alex dug in her heels and leaned back, pulling as hard as she could. Roy got upright and almost overbalanced, catching himself on one of the bunker’s cabinets.

“I need to lean on you,” he said.

Alex stood next to him, dutifully offering a shoulder. They took two steps towards the bunker door when the sudden sound of gunfire broke the night.

“DOWN!” he shouted, recognizing at least two M60s and a SAW opening up, plus several pops that sounded distinctly like short-barreled M4s.

Hearing no rounds coming towards the bunker, but not wanting to go out into a hot situation completely unarmed, Roy pointed towards his AR-15. “Grab that.”

Alex had to help pull Roy to his feet again, and steady him as they left the bunker. By now, the gunfire and the loudspeakers had both gone silent.

Two helicopters were idling outside, and he could hear amplified voices shouting. Roy slung the rifle, and put one hand up, still needing the other on Alex’s shoulder to steady himself.

“Put your hands up, too,” he said.

They had just hit the bottom of the basement stairs when Roy heard the pitch of the helicopter rotors change. They were taking off.

His first instinct was to tell Alex to run up the stairs to get their attention, but if the crews had just been in a firefight, anything appearing suddenly out of nowhere was at risk of being shot, so he tamped that down.

“Come on,” he told Alex. “Steady and keep your hands up.”

They were way too slow, though. By the time they reached the top of the stairs, even with the roof of the house burnt away, all they could see of the helicopters were their marker strobes flashing in the distance.

“I’m sorry, dad,” Alex said. “I was too slow.”

Roy wrapped her up in his arms as she began to cry.

“No you weren’t, kiddo,” he told her. “They were shooting and we needed to wait for that to stop first. You didn’t do this.”

Josie, Roy thought. The helicopters never would have left if she had told them he and Alex were still in the bunker. Roy realized there was only one thing that could possibly mean.

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