Grid Down: A Strike against America - An EMP Survival Story- Book Two (9 page)

Rob sat in his cell, quiet but strategizing. Nothing had been explained to him. Arthur hadn’t spoken of their plans or why they wanted him in the first place. If out of spite or vengeance, they hadn’t done anything to him yet. He was left to wait and wonder—which was probably the idea. They had stripped him away from his family, blindfolded him, and escorted him to a dank, darkened room made up of four concrete walls and a tiny window above. He sat on a single mattress with his back to the wall and his arms resting on his knees.

Blood had been spilled and Rob thought that whatever his fate, the outcome would probably not be in his favor. The children had been a ploy to pull him out from the safety of his camp. Arthur had admitted that much earlier. It was time to be ready for anything. And if he had any chance of surviving and getting back to his family, he’d have to play his cards right.

He thought of Mila, and his heart sank. He thought of Josh and Kelly and everything they had been through. He didn’t want them to suffer anymore. Getting back to them wasn’t a question of chance. He had to make sure that it happened. He reached into the side pocket of his torn jeans to grab his wallet, but it was gone. The men had taken it, along with his car keys. In his wallet was a family picture. He folded his hands together, pressed them against his forehead, and prayed under his breath.

The door to his cell creaked open. It had been hours since he had had contact with anyone. A tall, skinny man with a thick handlebar mustache and long hair braided in the back from a receding hairline walked in holding a shotgun. Rob looked up as the man introduced himself as Larry.

“Boss wants to see you,” he said.

“Okay,” Rob said, slowly rising from the mattress while holding his back.

“Turn around and get against the wall,” Larry said with his shotgun aimed.

Rob gave no resistance and did as told. He placed his hands against the concrete wall as he had seen in a dozen different cop shows. Larry’s boots clicked as each step brought him closer. He stopped, and Rob could feel his hot breath against his neck.

“So you’re the crazy son of a bitch who ran over my friend and left him for dead.”

“I don’t know what you’re taking about,” Rob said, still keeping his hands against the wall. He felt as vulnerable as anyone could possibly feel. The shotgun barrel pressed against the back of his head caused him to wince.

“Of course not. Before you start feelin’ sorry for yourself, just remember, you started all of this.”

Larry swung his arm back and punched Rob in the kidneys, hard and fast. An intense pain rushed up his back and sent him to his knees, clutching his sides.

“That’s for Johnson,” Larry said.

Another punch hit him square in the center of his spine. Rob fell over, clenching his teeth in agony.

“And that’s for me.”

Just when Rob thought it couldn’t get any worse, a swift kick of Larry’s boot knocked him on his side and into a fetal ball.

“And that’s for all the stupid bullshit you’ve started since.”

A puddle of drool had formed on the ground below Rob’s mouth. He could barely breathe. Numb from the pain all over, he just lay there in a defeated heap, which Larry seemed to find amusing.

“Yeah, tough guy,” Larry scoffed. “If it was up to me, we’d have killed you by now.” He leaned down and pulled Rob to his knees by the collar of his shirt. “But I don’t call the shots around here.” He paused. “Right now, anyway.”

Rob could hear Larry’s knees crack as he stood over him. He wondered if the worst was over or if he would just be some kind of punching bag for Arthur’s goons until the end.

“Stand up and put your hands behind your back.”

Rob nodded, placed his hands on the ground, and pushed himself up slowly. The moment he put his hands behind his back, he felt a zip tie being yanked around his wrist and tightened.

“Now we can go,” Larry said.

He grabbed Rob by the arm and pulled him away, leading him out of the room and into the hall. Everything looked blurry to Rob, who was still reeling from the beating. There were two other men in the hall, armed and patiently waiting—one overweight man with a shaved head and tattoos up to his neck, and the other with shaggy hair, a goatee, and a scarred face.

They greeted Rob with the same look of contempt he had received from Larry. It was clear he wasn’t a very popular man about town. The feeling was mutual.

He tried to see how many other rooms, or cells, existed down the hall, but it was so dark, he could only make out a few metal doors with faded red paint chipped away.

“What is this place?” he asked in a tired voice.

“This is where we keep heroes like you,” the large man belted out. “Now move your ass!”

Before Rob could say anything more, a blindfold went down over his face. The black rag covered his eyes and was pulled tight and knotted in back. Larry pushed him forward, and he limped down the hall, disoriented, with only their echoing footsteps to guide him along.

He heard a door open, and they entered a room where many other voices were in conversation. Hammering and sawing rang out. A factory of some kind? The noises continued unabated as Larry gripped his arm again and led him past the noise and to another door, which they opened.

A cold breeze hit him. They were outside. Rob could smell burning wood and could see some light through the blindfold. Pebbles crunched under his shoes as they led him down a curving path. A small hole tripped him, causing him to stumble forward. Larry gripped his arm tighter and pulled him back. “Watch it there, dumbass.”

The thought of killing the men crossed his mind. They had certainly caused him and his family enough grief. But he wasn’t like them. They were murderers and criminals. He was just a man trying to survive. There had to be a difference. Or maybe the EMP had blurred the lines between good and bad, innocent and guilty. Rob thought of Arthur’s men taking residency in his home, raiding his business, and destroying everything he owned. That was the difference, as far as he saw it. Those men were takers, and they’d take all they could until someone put a stop to it.

“Here he is, Mr. Mayor,” Larry said, pulling Rob to a stop.

He could see only a faint outline of someone standing in front of him.

“Excellent. Take his blindfold off.”

Rob heard the snip of a knife cutting the back of the rag as it fell down on his face. Arthur stood there inches away in his tan fatigues and beret. The man was certainly letting the despot image go to his head.

“Nice to see you again, Rob,” he said with a smile.

Rob narrowed his eyes, with his bottom lip pressing against the top in a drooping grimace.

“Not much for hellos. That’s okay,” Arthur said. He then looked at Larry, standing behind Rob. “Go ahead and remove the zip tie.”

Larry hesitated and stepped forward, objecting. “But… he’s our prisoner.”

Arthur pulled him aside. “Just do it. See all the men with guns around here? Where’s he going to go?”

“You don’t know what he’s capable of,” Larry said in protest.

Rob surveyed the scene as the two men bickered. They were on the outskirts of town, surrounded by wilderness, and away from the residential neighborhoods. There was a fire pit ahead, down a dirt trail, where a few logs were burning. A circle of men stood around in jackets and wool caps, drinking from some kind of bottles, maybe beer.

The other two guards kept a careful eye on Rob, their rifles, resting in their gloved hands, pointed at him all the while. The bickering between Larry and Arthur stopped, and Larry walked slowly over to Rob and cut the zip tie.

“If he runs, he’s your problem,” Larry said, pointing his knife toward Arthur.

“That’s fine,” Arthur responded. “I don’t think Rob will be going anywhere anytime soon. Not until we come to an agreement.”

Rob brought his hands around to the front and rubbed his wrists. He quickly observed the pistol at Arthur’s side. He got the point. Arthur was trying to make him feel comfortable. The games never ended, and judging by what kind of person Arthur was, games were all that he had.

“I think we’re going to go for a walk,” Arthur told Larry. “Just Rob and me. Keep an eye on the fort while we’re gone.” He pointed to a dilapidated warehouse—the very place they had escorted Rob from.

Larry appeared incredulous. He stepped close to Arthur but within a faint earshot. “What are you up to?” he whispered. “That man’s a prisoner. I don’t know exactly what use you have for him, but there are plenty of people who want him dead right now.”

“I understand that,” Arthur said. “But I have other ideas.” Turning his back on Larry, he then signaled to Rob. “Please. Follow me.”  

Rob looked around cautiously, taking in the expressions of the scowling men surrounding him.

“It’s okay,” Arthur said, striding ahead. “Come.”

Rob walked past Larry’s burning stare and joined Arthur, who was heading toward the fire pit, where a group of ragtag goons seemed to be unwinding and having a good time.

“What do you want with me?” Rob asked.

With his eyes forward and a permanent smile on his face, Arthur responded, “What do you want with me,
Mr. Mayor
.”

Rob stopped dead in his tracks as Arthur continued on for a few paces then slowly turned around. “Larry has a point, you know,” Arthur said. “The people of this town want your blood, and the one man stopping that from happening stands right before you.” His friendly demeanor dropped as he rushed Rob, stopped inches from him, and put a finger in his face. “So you better get used to showing me a little
respect
from here on out!”

Rob remained composed, his face showing little emotion. “Why don’t you get to the point, Mr. Mayor? You attacked my camp. You kidnapped
my
children. Now you have my vehicles. What’s the end game here?”

Arthur tilted his head back and cupped his chin. “I’d like us to come to new terms, Rob. That’s the only reason you’re standing here right now.”

“You humiliated me once before with that bowing-down-before-you charade, and I’m not going to let that happen again.”

Arthur laughed. “That was pretty good, wasn’t it?” He signaled Rob forward and started moving again. “Walk with me. Please.”

Rob sighed and followed. He glanced around and noticed that all the other men nearby seemed distracted. The thought crossed his mind to run, but he knew right away that would be a mistake. Any immediate escape attempt would land him right back in his cell or get him killed.

“Who are you, Rob?” Arthur asked. He was walking with his hands behind his back as though he were strolling through the park on a Sunday afternoon. “I mean, what did you do before all of this?”

“I owned an outdoors shop right here in town. Sold survival gear.”

“Funny,” Arthur said. “I always figured you for ex-military or something.”

“Nope,” Rob said.

“Seems like you missed your calling,” Arthur said.

Rob shrugged. “My calling was to protect my family, and we were doing just fine until you showed up.”

Arthur took no apparent offense. “The funny thing is, I think we’re both similar in many regards.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Rob said.

Arthur laughed lightheartedly. “You run a campground with cabins, quite resourcefully, and I run a town. There’s still a chance we can make things work.”

“Impossible,” Rob said.

Arthur stopped and grabbed the sleeve of Rob’s tattered jacket. “Why not?”

Rob looked him straight in the eye. “Because of who you are.”

A smile came across Arthur’s face. “I assure you, I’m no less sane than anyone around here.”

“That’s what bothers me,” Rob said.

Up ahead, the fire pit crackled as the men—seven in all—paused in their jovial laughter and beer swigging and turned their attention to the mayor and his prisoner.

“I come from a political background,” Arthur said. “And in politics, you sometimes have to compromise. We see it all the time with foreign policy. We build diplomatic relationships with countries that we don’t agree with all the time. Why? Because there’s no black and white, only gray.”

Rob cut the mayor off. “I’ll ask again. What is it you want, Mr. Mayor?”

Arthur leaned in closer and pointed to the men by the fire as they turned away to avoid being heard. “My men could learn a thing or two about living off the land like your people. This town,
your
town, isn’t going to last much longer on the limited resources we have. We need your knowledge, your know-how. You were prepared for the EMP, just like a good prepper. You knew exactly what to do.” Arthur placed a gloved hand on Rob’s shoulder. “Show us the way, Rob. Share your tactics with us, and I’ll drop this entire feud.”

Rob thought to himself as Arthur awaited an answer. “Do you expect me to believe that you give a shit about these people or this town? You’ve destroyed it. If I were you, I’d take your gang of criminals with you and leave here before the National Guard shows up.”

Arthur lowered his hand in exaggerated disappointment and turned away. “Come with me.” They walked past the fire pit, farther down the dirt path, to an empty two-lane road. “Look in the distance,” Arthur said, pointing.