EMP Post-Apocalyptic Survival , Hunt, James [best ebook reader under 100 .TXT] 📗

“That remains to be seen,” Jackson said, and then he motioned for Ben to join him over by a table. On it was a map of the region. “The sergeant gave me some intelligence that will cause us to relocate to Asheville, and considering that’s your hometown, I’m going to keep you around.”

Ben frowned. “Why Asheville?”

“That’s where our forces from the west were going to be stationed for our push toward the coast.” Jackson pointed back to the map. “Our marines from Camp Lejeune will be coming from the east, and we will perform our pincer move, crushing anybody in between.”

Ben thought about the bomb and its effectiveness and where the enemy would try to use it. His first instinct was Washington, DC, but wiping out most of the eastern ground forces would be another favorable target.

“I want to meet with your prisoner,” Jackson said.

“So you believe me?” Ben asked.

Jackson started loading ammunition into a pistol magazine and shook his head. “My job isn’t to believe or not believe. I’m supposed to ensure the safety of my men and the people of the state, and if what you’re telling me has a shred of truth in it, I wouldn’t be doing my duty if I didn’t investigate.” He finished loading the bullets into the magazine. “What people believe prevails over the truth. Sophocles said that.”

“You didn’t strike me as a philosophical man, Colonel,” Ben said.

Jackson shoved the magazine into a Glock7. “Well, I’m just full of surprises.”

3

Liz Riker lifted the bag of wheat into the wagon with the other supplies they had gathered on the north side of Asheville. The morning sun was already burning hot, and she wiped the sweat collecting in her eyebrows before it stung her eyes.

Liz’s shirt clung to her small but sturdy frame. She kept her mousy-brown hair up in a ponytail in an attempt to keep her neck cool, but her fair skin was already burning from the mid-morning sun. Her daughter, Sarah, emerged from the feed store, carrying another box, her rifle strapped over her shoulder.

“Is that the last of it?” Liz asked.

Sarah dropped the box into the wagon where it landed with a thud, nearly knocking over the other bags and supplies they had collected on their trip here. “That’s it.”

“I’m glad this place survived the fires,” Liz said. “We have enough seed to plant crops to get us through the winter.”

“Yeah, if we can get them to grow,” Sarah said. “Last time I checked, you and I weren’t farmers.”

Liz walked to the front of the wagon and picked up the handle. “Your father and I took a few homesteading lessons over the years. We aren’t experts, but we know enough to get started.”

Sarah kept her gun at the ready, the stock tucked under her shoulder as she walked next to her mother. “I guess it couldn’t be that hard, right? The ground does most of the work. All we do is dig the hole and make sure it gets some water. Piece of cake.”

“Exactly,” Liz said. “Piece of cake.”

Liz flashed a smile, but it was only a façade. She was doing her best to remain calm, but her mind was already working on their next moves. She knew that with the number of mouths they now had to feed, it would be important to be able to produce their own food. Their current food stores were limited, but they had enough to keep everyone fed for now.

“What do you think Dad is doing right now?” Sarah asked.

Liz had put on a brave face when Ben had left to speak with Colonel Jackson, but both of them had their doubts of whether or not Jackson would believe their story about what had happened to his soldier. Not to mention all of the dangers a person encountered just by walking out on the road these days.

“He should be at the facility by now,” Liz answered. “And if all goes according to plan, then our alliance with the military will continue.”

“Dad doesn’t think anyone will believe him, does he?” Sarah asked.

That was putting it mildly. “Your father has a way of convincing people to trust him. It’s how he made so many relationships with the fire department.”

Sarah tilted her head to the side. “He was their boss.”

“Yes, but he was more than that,” Liz said, switching hands as she pulled the wagon. “Your father holds an important standing in people’s minds around here. The Riker name means something to them, and they see your father as the head of that name.”

Sarah was quiet for a minute. “And what about Uncle Mark?” She looked at her mother. “What do they think of him?”

Liz couldn’t hide her grimace. “That man is not your uncle.”

“Mom,” Sarah said, stepping in front of Liz and forcing her to stop. “If there is anyone who should be mad at him, it’s me. I just want to know what happened between them.”

Liz knew Sarah had a point, but she didn’t know the whole story. “Your father had a tumultuous relationship with his brother.”

“Because of what happened after Dad’s parents died?” Sarah asked.

Liz nodded. “Your uncle abandoned your father to fend for himself. He was only a boy at the time, and it was very difficult for him. They tried to reconcile ten years ago, and for a while, I thought they might work it out. But then your uncle vanished.”

“Until recently,” Sarah said.

Liz noted the distance in her daughter’s voice. Mark Riker had kidnapped Sarah in hopes of drawing Ben’s attention. It had worked, but the confrontation didn’t go as planned. And while Ben managed to recover Sarah unharmed, Mark had escaped, and Ben feared his brother would return for retaliation. It was one of the reasons he had decided to return to Colonel Jackson. The kidnapping had been traumatic, even though Sarah hadn’t been injured.

“If you ever need to talk to me about what happened, I’m always here,” Liz said.

Sarah nodded. “I know.”

Liz