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

cleared, Nancy saw the pistol in her hand. Wendy walked right up to the edge of the steps, just out of arms’ reach from Nancy, and then aimed the pistol at Abe.

“He needs to die!” Wendy shouted.

On instinct, Nancy raised her own weapon and aimed it at Wendy. “Drop the gun, now!”

The crowd gasped, and everyone stepped back but couldn’t look away.

Mrs. Riker held up her hands and tried to calm the situation. “Everyone, relax,” Mrs. Riker said.

Nancy kept a bead on Wendy, but all of the woman’s attention was focused on Abe.

“You need to make a choice, Liz,” Jane said. “You can either cozy up with the enemy and continue to protect him even after our people are murdered in their own beds, or you can do the right thing and kill him now.”

Nancy felt the tears filling up in her eyes. She was burning hot with anger and then looked to Mrs. Riker and saw that she was actually considering it. “No. He didn’t do anything. He’s not a bad person!”

“He’s a killer,” Wendy said, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself. “He’s just like those people who killed my Jeff!”

Everyone waited to hear what Mrs. Riker would say, and Nancy feared that she would give in. But when Mrs. Riker walked down the steps and stood in Nancy’s line of fire, she started to cry.

“No,” Nancy said.

“Lower the weapon, Nancy,” Mrs. Riker said. “Please.” Mrs. Riker was incredibly calm and collected, and when she gently placed her hand on the end of Nancy’s rifle, it lowered. Mrs. Riker then turned to Wendy. “Put it down, Wendy.”

Wendy Sutton was shaking uncontrollably. Her adrenaline was getting the better of her, and she looked wild, like a feral animal. “No,” Wendy said.

“You can’t kill him, Wendy,” Mrs. Riker said. “That would make you no better than the people who killed your husband.”

“Someone has to pay,” Wendy said.

Mrs. Riker stepped in front of Wendy. “Put the gun down, Wendy.”

Nancy and the rest of the crowd waited with bated breath. Nancy looked up at Abe and saw him still on his knees, looking right at her. He didn’t look scared; instead, he looked almost peaceful.

“Move, Liz,” Wendy said, gritting her teeth. “Now.”

“I’m not going to move, Wendy,” Liz said. “I’m not going to let you kill someone.”

Nancy could do nothing but sit and wait, and just when she thought Wendy was going to pull the trigger, the woman lowered her weapon, gasping for air as if she had been holding her breath.

A collected sigh escaped the crowd, but the only person who wasn’t relieved was Jane Percy.

“So you’re just going to let him get away with it?” Jane asked. “He’s a killer!”

“The only killer here is you,” Nancy said.

Jane looked like she might shoot Nancy on the spot, but no action was taken.

Wendy was crying, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Jeff. I’m so sorry.”

Mrs. Riker slowly reached for the pistol in Wendy’s hand, but just before she could reach it, Wendy jolted, stepping around Mrs. Riker to shoot Abe.

“No!” Nancy lunged, but she wasn’t close enough.

She watched Mrs. Riker reach for the gun and then brought Wendy to the ground. The pair grappled for the weapon, and just as Nancy reached to help Mrs. Riker, the gun fired.

A few people screamed, but everyone froze. Both Wendy's and Mrs. Riker’s faces were wide with shock. Nancy pulled Mrs. Riker back, checking for a gunshot wound but found none. The bullet had gone into Wendy’s stomach, and she was bleeding.

“Liz shot her!” Jane shouted, capitalizing on the moment. “She killed one of us!”

Realizing the situation was a powder keg about to blow, Nancy pulled Mrs. Riker back, along with Abe, and retreated, keeping her gun aimed at Jane and Lester.

“They’re traitors!” Jane shouted. “Traitors who don’t belong here!”

Nancy kept a bead on Jane and knew she could kill her at that moment. But when Mrs. Riker squeezed Nancy’s shoulder and whispered into her ear, “We need to grab my boys and leave,” Nancy held back.

If they wanted to get out with their lives, then Nancy would have to wait a little longer before she shot Jane Percy.

21

The bombing seemed to last forever. Every blast caused the ground to tremble like the earth was going to crack open. Ben barely had time to rush to find cover before the first bombs dropped. He managed to find shelter beneath a thick piece of concrete that had survived the fires. But with the amount of ordinance that was dropping from above, Ben wasn’t sure if the structure would hold.

The carnage Ben witnessed from beneath the covering was catastrophic. Soldiers scrambled to find anything that could withstand the bombs from disintegrating men into dust. Ben had thought he had seen real devastation from the fires that ravaged his home, but the carnage he witnessed, seeing pieces of men flung in different directions, was beyond anything he could have imagined.

A few of the explosions got close to where Ben had found shelter, but he escaped the brunt of the blast.

Once the explosions stopped, Ben could only hear the faint buzz of the primitive drones continuing their aimless flight forward. And once the drones faded, there were only the painful groans of the survivors.

Ben emerged from the concrete overhang and squinted in horror at the graveyard the bombs had left behind.

The army that had come to save them from a far less sophisticated enemy had been decimated by a clever tactic. No one, not even Ben, anticipated the ingenuity of these people. It had been their tragic flaw, and now they were on the brink of oblivion.

Ben started going to each body that he found and checked to see who was alive, who was struggling to stay that way, and who had already passed.

Most were dead, but eventually, Ben came across a young man who had a piece of shrapnel sticking in his stomach. He had blood in his mouth, and his eyes were bloodshot. He