The Last Cabin: EMP Survival in a Powerless World by James Hunt

Author:James Hunt [Hunt, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-05-26T22:00:00+00:00

20

Muhammed stood back and watched the deputy with his gag in his mouth. The men had been working him for the past hour after they made camp outside of the entrance to the old mine. It was Muhammed who had chosen the location. He liked to have something at his back that he didn’t have to watch.

The inside of the open mouth of the mine was dark. Muhammed saw some of the old crossbeams that held up the structure and the exposed, rocky earth that had been torn open as miners cut railway tracks down the middle of its throat, like some kind of life support system.

The sight was an open sore on an otherwise beautiful mountain range. Muhammed enjoyed the mountains, it reminded him of his home back in Afghanistan when he and his brother and father would roam the countryside with their flock, tending to the lands that his family had owned for generations. But that was before their world had been destroyed by the Americans and their war.

Muhammed had made a promise to himself all of those years ago. He might not have been to blame for the attacks that had befallen the people of this country before, but he had made up for that fact with the attack yesterday. And he was just getting started.

The deputy gagged and kicked his legs during the waterboarding. He hadn’t been a strong man, and he had given them most of what he wanted to know, but he wanted to make sure the deputy was truly whipped.

Muhammed held up his hand, and his men stopped. The deputy gasped for breath, then retched some water over the front of his uniform.

The deputy’s gaze wandered aimlessly between his torturers until they landed on Muhammed, and that’s where they stayed. “I told you everything I know.”

“And I believe you.” Muhammed waved his hand dismissively, keeping his posture casual as he tilted his head to the side. “But this isn’t about learning more information.”

The deputy scrunched his face up as if he were about to cry, but the only water that dripped from his face was the lingering droplets from his torture. “Then… w-why? Why are you doing this?” His voice grew more petulant as he spoke.

“Because I’m not here to conquer people or learn your secrets.” Muhammed stood and dusted the dirt and leaves from his legs.

“Just let me go!” the deputy yelled, and then turned to the woods, screaming at the top of his lungs, the veins and muscles along his neck pulsating with every scream. “Help! Someone help me! Help me!” But his cries for help only ended with more tears.

Muhammed walked to the deputy and then bent forward, resting his palms just above his knees. “You can scream until your throat is raw. No one will come. And even if someone did hear you and they came looking for you, my scouts would see them coming a mile away and kill them before they got close enough to see your broken body.

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