Zero Hour: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction Series (The Blackout Series Book 2) (13 page)

Noon, September 14

HPA Meeting House

Trimble Rd. & Lynnwood Blvd.

Belle Meade, Tennessee

 

As their group of six walked onto the vacant lot across from the HPA meeting house, the whispers began.

She waited ’til the bruises went away to show her face
.

Look, she can’t even walk next to him
.

He’s scowling—typical abusive husband
.

Madison noticed it first and mentioned it to Karen Kaplan. Their women’s intuition seemed to take over, probably from years of experience in dealing with complicated social situations.

Ostracism caused real pain because it thwarted our basic needs for belonging, self-esteem, and control. It had become the number one tool of bullies and cowards. The ability to physically lash out at one another was against the law, so people found a way to torture each other mentally. It was part of school life for children and social media for people of all ages. Madison perceived it to be on full display today, but she was ready for them.

“Welcome, everyone,” said Wren to a consistently dwindling crowd. “I wanna start out today’s meeting with some good news. We’ve learned FEMA will be setting up a temporary food and water distribution center at Belle Meade Country Club. It will open up at eight in the morning. I’d like to encourage everyone to be there bright and early to get your share of the supplies. I also expect our government officials will be there to provide us an update regarding the restoration of power.”

A woman in the crowd shouted a question. “What about the fire that’s been burning to our west near the interstate? Isn’t the country club a little close to that?”

“Great question,” responded Wren. “I haven’t confirmed this. Thus my answer is clearly speculative, but I believe the Nashville Electric substation caught on fire. Without a functioning fire department, it has been burning out of control and spreading throughout the area near the interstate. I’ll try to get more on that tomorrow.”

“What about the looting in our neighborhood?” asked a woman, who Madison recognized as living half a mile down Harding Place toward 100 Oaks. “The Moultries’ home was broken into last night. I made a point to put it on the list at the first HPA meeting, and it was still looted. How could this happen?”

“Let me take that one, Shane,” said Gene Andrews. “Ma’am, we’ve tried to organize patrols to canvas the entire area, but we’re short on volunteers. I’m sorry about what happened to their home, but without the warm bodies, it’s impossible to protect every vacant property.”

The neighbor persisted. “I don’t understand. We’ve volunteered to help out, and we’ve given you extra food. Shouldn’t that entitle us to be watched over first?”

Wren took the lead in the conversation and began to answer, but glared at the Ryman contingent first. “Again, ma’am, I’m sorry. Of course we appreciate the sacrifices that you and so many of our neighbors have made. The President asked us to help one another until help arrived or power was restored. Some good people, like yourself, have complied. But, sadly, there are a selfish few who choose to reap the benefits of our good deeds and not contribute to the well-being of all of us.”

Madison cringed as the angry shouts came from all around them. People were frustrated with the lack of action on the part of FEMA and the HPA, and they were looking for a target.

“That’s not fair!”

“Why not?”

“If they’re not putting something in, why should we?”

“Yeah!”

“They’ve got a lot of nerve! Who are they?”

Wren raised his hand to calm the crowd. He set his jaw and spoke. “As a matter of fact, there is someone among us today who has the ability to power the appliances we need to store and cook food. He could help charge the batteries we need to power our critical medical devices. But he has determined that his needs are more important than helping all of us!”

“Who is it?”

“Step forward, you selfish bast—!”

“Enough!” shouted Colton. Madison had known Colton for most of her adult life and she’d never seen him approach a situation like this angrily. “It’s true. I do have a—”

“Of course, it’s the wife beater!” shouted one woman.

“You’re the guy. You’ve gotta lot of nerve showing up here.”

“Christie told us what you did. You should be ashamed!” shouted another woman.

Rusty Kaplan stepped up to defend Colton. “You people are all wrong and need to pipe down! I’ve been the Rymans’ next-door neighbor for many years and know for a fact that he would never raise a hand to Madison or their daughter. In fact, he was out of town when this—”

“Who can believe you?”

“You’re his friend, of course you’d lie!”

“Did he bribe you with the generator to lie for him?”

The crowd was becoming hostile, and they were closing around Madison and the others. She hooked her arm under Colton’s and noticed he had his hand on the gun.

Rusty continued. “It’s not a lie. I saw the whole thing on the news. She was attacked—”

The crowd burst out in spontaneous laughter as they mocked Kaplan’s statement.

“Very funny! The whole thing happened to be on the six o’clock news.”

“Yeah, and none of us can confirm it, now can we?”

The crowd pressed closer, and Madison became frightened, then angry. She’d hoped this wasn’t necessary.

“Shut up! All of you shut up! My husband didn’t hit me, he loves me. This was a nasty vicious rumor started by Christie Wren and her husband. I have proof!”

Madison reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out Alex’s fully charged iPhone, which had been stored in the Faraday cage. She had the downloaded video cued up and pushed play. The crowd became quiet in amazement at the functioning telephone. The video played the news report, and the images of her being beaten were seen by nearly everyone in the crowd.

Madison had vindicated her husband. But he was cleared of only one charge, as she quickly learned.

“Okay, big deal. How did you get your cell phone to work?”

“Can you make a call?”

“Do you have Internet access?”

Madison was shocked. She looked at Colton and her friends. She thought this would put an end to the whole ordeal. As a result, she wasn’t surprised to see Wren take advantage of the situation.

“You see? This is what I’m talking about. Ryman has valuable resources that he refuses to share with his neighbors in need. Do any of you have a functioning cell phone?”

“Nooooo!” the crowd roared its displeasure.

“It doesn’t function. It simply—” Madison’s attempt at an explanation was drowned out by Wren’s bellowing.

“I ask you, fellow neighbors, if this is fair?”

“Nooooooo!”

“I agree,” continued Wren. “Ryman, I’m calling on you to do the right thing and share the wealth. Provide us access to the things that will help this community survive. If you won’t, then don’t attend our meetings and don’t look to us for help!”

 

Chapter 22

DAY SIX

5:00 p.m., September 14

Ryman Residence

Belle Meade, Tennessee

 

Alex cleared the table of the paper plates and plastic cutlery. The sounds of clanking dishes being piled into the sink following a meal was replaced with a quick, easy cleanup into a lawn and leaf bag in the corner of the kitchen. The vase of freshly picked flowers normally in the center of the table was replaced with three handguns, one for each of the Rymans.

“Did Jimmy give you a hard time about requesting another gun?” asked Colton.

“No, but sorry, Mom, I had to throw you under the bus a little bit,” replied Alex.

“What? How?”

“I told Jimmy you didn’t approve of the gun and took it away from me,” she replied. “He gave me this one just like it. More ammo too.”

“Okay, are we done with this undercover operation now?” asked Madison.

“Just one more, Mom. I want to get one of those AR-15s. Jimmy showed me how it works. They’re really neat.”

“Great! Neat,” said Madison sarcastically.

“Plus, it gives me time just to talk,” said Alex. “Today, he told me about his real dad, who lives in Antioch.”

“Does he spend time with his father?” asked Colton.

“Only once a month,” he replied. “His dad lost his job a long time ago and never got back on his feet. Jimmy thinks he felt guilty for not being able to take care of him, which is why his dad allowed Mr. Holder to adopt him. Jimmy didn’t care about
stuff
. He just wanted to spend time with his dad.”

Alex sat quietly for a moment as she thought about Jimmy’s predicament. His mom was probably stuck in Washington, D.C. indefinitely, and his real father in Antioch was nearly fifteen miles away, which might as well be Washington.

“It’s tough on Jimmy, you know?” started Alex. “His only family is a man who doesn’t know how to care for him and throws him some silly gift once in a while like you’d give a dog a leftover soup bone.”

“I feel sorry for him,” said Madison. “I’d love to have him over for a meal, although canned soup isn’t most people’s favorite. It’s just too dangerous, honey.”

Alex sighed. “I know, Mom. Really, he enjoys having me as a friend. He needs somebody to talk to. His stepdad is gone all the time, even at night sometimes. He’s always down at the HPA house.”

“Don’t we know it,” said Colton.

Alex continued. “This morning, he was in a pretty good mood because his stepdad left him a present. It was a military jacket with patches on it and everything.”

Madison turned to Colton and asked, “Isn’t Holder a banker? He doesn’t seem like the military type.”

Colton shrugged and was about to answer when Alex spoke up. “No. Jimmy said his stepdad got it from one of the neighbors. I guess people have been helping them out with food and stuff. Jimmy said the people wanted to thank Mr. Holder for watching over their place, so they gave him the jacket. I think their name was Mule-tree or something like that.”

Colton and Madison simultaneously sat up in their chairs and asked, “Moultrie?”

Alex was puzzled and responded, “That’s it. Moultrie. Do you know them?”

Colton immediately peppered her with questions. “What else did he say?”

“Jimmy said his stepdad, Mr. Wren, and Mr. Andrews were helping out in the neighborhood by watching over everything. Because it was most dangerous at night, they patrol the streets, watching for looters.”

“Did Jimmy say where they patrol?” asked Colton.

“Not really. Well, he did say they pay special attention to the homes that are vacant. You know, to protect them.”

“Yeah, I bet,” said Madison sarcastically.

“Did you notice anything else different about their home from the last time you were over there?” asked Colton.

Alex thought for a moment. There was something. “Oh, yeah. I used to come and go through the garage. In fact, the garage door was always rolled open. Today, the car was rolled out into the driveway, and the door was closed.”

“Was it like that yesterday?” asked Colton.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it was. I remember asking Jimmy why I couldn’t leave through the garage. He said his stepdad locked the double dead bolt on the garage door to keep their stuff safe. That’s so weird because Mr. Holder has all of those guns in the basement, and he isn’t worried about someone going down there.”

Madison leaned back in her chair and looked at Colton. “He’s hiding something.”

“Here’s what they’re doing, Maddie,” started Colton. “At the HPA meetings, Wren encourages the neighbors to provide the street addresses of those homes that are abandoned. At night, under the guise of patrolling the neighborhood, they break in and steal what they want. The Moultries’ home was last night’s target.”

“They’re hiding everything in Holder’s garage.”

“Daddy, Jimmy doesn’t have anything to do with that,” said Alex. Jimmy had confided in her that Holder had beat him before. She didn’t want to tell her dad because he had enough to worry about. “I don’t want him to get in trouble.”

“We understand, honey,” said Madison. “Don’t worry.”

Colton stood up and walked through the kitchen as the light began to fade. He and Alex were supposed to go to the O’Malleys’ that evening.

“Daddy, what’s wrong?”

“I was trying to figure out how they were getting around,” said Colton.

“The phony guardsmen,” interjected Madison.

“Yes! They’re in cahoots together. Wren, Andrews, and Holder are gathering the addresses and then feeding the information to those guys. They have an operating truck and a perfect cover.”

“And guns,” added Madison. “Nobody would dare confront them.”

Alex and Madison sat quietly, allowing Colton to think it through. Finally, Colton spoke up.

“I need some kind of proof. Wren and company are using this as an opportunity to line their pockets. They’re giving our neighbors false hope by day and stealing from them at night.”

“Daddy, are we going to the O’Malleys’ tonight? It’s getting dark.”

“No. After today, we need to double our night watch.”

 

Chapter 23

DAY SEVEN

2:00 p.m., September 15

Ryman Residence

Belle Meade, Tennessee

 

By day seven, Madison had cooked all the foods stored in their refrigerator and freezer. Colton drained the gasoline out of the generator. He turned his focus to topping off the Wagoneer’s gas tank. If an unforeseen event forced them to flee their home, he wanted a full tank for the journey. The empty cans gave him the ability to siphon fuel out of lawn equipment around the neighborhood or stalled vehicles. He decided to practice on the dead Suburban.

Colton had already emptied the truck of its contents, including the floor mats and tire-changing tools. He tried to clean up the Wagoneer and get the smell of dead animal out of it. After a lot of Febreze, the Jeep was tolerable. The O’Malleys had a rack that slid into the trailer hitch receiver. It was large enough to hold the generator and four gas cans. Colton attached it to the hitch and loaded up the generator. Now, he planned on filling the four five-gallon cans with available gasoline.

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