UNLAWFUL RESTRAINT: an EMP survival story (The Hidden Survivor Book 2) by Connor Mccoy

UNLAWFUL RESTRAINT: an EMP survival story (The Hidden Survivor Book 2) by Connor Mccoy

Author:Connor Mccoy [Mccoy, Connor]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2018-05-24T04:00:00+00:00


Chapter Twelve

Glen awoke to sunlight on his face. He was surprised to find himself in a comfortable bed with soft blankets and a pillow. This confused him, until he remembered he wasn’t living in a closet anymore. After the meeting in the barn the previous evening Eric had led him to one of the farmhouses used by the outcasts and had given him a room to sleep in.

He’d had a bath with water heated in a wood-fired boiler. A young woman named Nellie had brought him clean clothes and had taken the dirty ones away. There even had been clean pajamas to wear after he’d been fed. It felt like pure luxury after the past few days.

There was a tap on the door, and Glen called out that he was awake and sat up in bed. Nellie came in bearing his things and set them on the end of the bed.

“Good morning.” She couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen years old, wearing faded jeans and a faded T-shirt with a picture of a blonde singer on it.

“Breakfast is downstairs in the kitchen when you are ready, but don’t take too long. The boys are due back from chores, and they eat everything in sight.” She smiled at him and left the room.

Not wanting to miss breakfast, Glen jumped up and got dressed. His clothes were clean and faintly warm. He wondered how they had been dried.

Downstairs he followed his nose to the kitchen, where a large table was laden with steaming plates of food. Glen was dazzled by the array. Pancakes were flanked by sausages, oatmeal, scrambled eggs, and toast. Warm syrup and cold juice sat on the counter.

“Sit,” Nellie said, coming in through a door from the outside. “Eat.”

Glen obeyed. Piling his plate with foods he hadn’t seen in years. Even before the power went out, he hadn’t fed himself this well.

“Would you like coffee?” Nellie asked.

He nodded, expecting some approximation of coffee, such as he made at his cabin. But when it came it was the real deal. He looked at the girl in surprise, and she grinned at him.

“My uncle owned a coffee roasting business,” she said. “When the crash came he borrowed a couple of panel vans, loaded up his product and all the unprocessed beans and brought them up here to my dad’s place. I don’t think we’ll ever run out. And we use it to barter sometimes.”

“I’d forgotten how it tasted,” Glen said with a sigh of satisfaction.

The back door flew open, and a herd of young men came in. Glen guessed they ranged in age from twelve to twenty. He tried to count them, but they kept milling about, grabbing plates and food, and he couldn’t keep track of who was who.

He was surprised by the number of children. Why had Terror sent them away? What harm could these children possibly do to them? Then he realized something else, Nellie was the only girl he had seen so far.

He waited for



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