EMP Antediluvian Fear

  EMP ANTEDILUVIAN

  FEAR

  Book 2

  S.A. ISON

  EMP ANTEDILUVIAN FEAR

  Copyright © 2018 by S.A. Ison All rights reserved.

  Book Design by Elizabeth Mackey

  Book Edited by Ronald Ison Esq. Editing Service

  All rights Reserved. Except as under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a data base or retrieval system, without prior written permission of S.A. Ison

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the production of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons – living or dead- is entirely coincidental.

  For My Uncle Ron

  Our family historian who keeps our past alive. He reminds us of our old ways. A true Kentuckian.

  OTHER BOOKS BY S.A. ISON

  BLACK SOUL RISING

  INOCULATION ZERO WELCOME TO THE STONE AGE

  BOOK ONE

  INOCULATION ZERO WELCOME TO THE AGE OF WAR

  BOOK TWO

  EMP ANTEDILUVIAN PURGE

  BOOK ONE

  POSEIDON RUSSIAN DOOMSDAY

  BOOK ONE

  EMP PRIMEVAL

  FUTURE RELEASES

  POSEIDON RUBBLE AND ASH

  BOOK TWO

  EMP ANTEDILUVIAN COURAGE

  BOOK THREE

  THE HIVE

  SMOKEHOUSE SMILES

  Other books by S.A. Ison under the name: Stefany White

  Dragon’s Fortune

  Alaskan Heat

  Future Releases

  The Seeding

  The Butler Did It

  Little White Lies

  CHAPTER ONE

  Harry Banks looked around the porch, all eyes were on him and Alan. Harry knew that what he was asking of Alan would be very dangerous, but at this point in time, there was no help for it. They were all in danger, and it was only going to get worse. The teenager, Alan Tate was innocuous enough to move through the town of Beattyville Kentucky, without drawing undue attention upon himself. Because he was young and white, and poor, no one would look twice at him.

  His sister, Willene had taken the orphaned baby, Angela, into the house, he supposed it was to feed the child. No one knew how long Angela Santo had been hidden before her entire family had been hanged. The child’s father, mother and older fifteen-year-old brother, Robert, were hung for being Puerto Rican, because they were not white.

  Alan was still weeping, though most of the tears had slowed. Harry knew that finding his young friend and his family, so brutally murdered, would scar the young man for the rest of his life. But Alan had found and rescued the baby. Harry knew Willene would take care of her and love her.

  His twin sister had always wanted children, but it never seemed to happen for her. In this new world, he knew it more than likely never would, but now there was this baby, Angela. She must have had a guardian angel, to have survived her family’s plight. With the advent of what they thought was a solar coronal event, the massive EMP, they speculated it had stopped the world’s technology. To add insult to injury, the town’s local chapter of the KKK had raised its ugly head and was even now wreaking havoc, with murder and enslavement. Their homegrown terrorists were at play and there was no one to stop them. Their small town was one of thousands across the country. No military had come to their rescue yet and no government as well.

  “Listen before you say yes, Alan, listen first. I need you to contact people in town. People you think you can trust with our lives. With your own life. It will be dangerous because you may not know who you can trust.” Harry said, looking into the teen’s eyes.

  “Yeah, I’s kin do that, what’s you’uns want me ta do?” Alan asked, wiping his eyes with the handkerchief Harry had given him. Harry could see that Alan was starting to get his strong emotions under control and Harry was glad. Something like this could break anyone, and the kid was so young, to have seen so much violence, he hoped Alan was resilient. Harry knew soldiers that had not been resilient enough to get over the loss of a comrade in arms, age wasn’t necessarily a determining factor. They would all have to be resilient, because they could be faced with more losses in the near future.

  “We are going to need a lot of people to help us. First, we need to rescue those people in the coal mines, they can’t survive down there for very long, especially the women and children.” Harry said, still stunned to find out Mayor Audrey and Sheriff Yates had put all non-whites, non-Christians and anyone helping those people, into the coal mines as slave labor.

  It didn’t matter, women, children, old and young. The mayor and sheriff were trying to take over Beattyville under the flag of the KKK. With the devastation, it seems to have brought about the very worst in some of the people of their town.

  Harry didn’t know if some folks waited for a disaster to show their true nature, or if the disaster forced them to evolve, or degrade. To want to wreak havoc and destroy all those around them, including themselves, he could not understand. Whatever the case, their lives had been changed by the solar EMP, the world had gone to hell and those bastards were taking advantage of it all.

  He’d seen it before in other countries. Any weakness was met by those who would exploit it. He’d fought that while serving in the army. He would fight it now. He didn’t like that it was his own countrymen. But evil was evil, it didn’t have a color or age, or gender.

  He looked around at the faces of the people who’d come to live in his home. Clay Patterson, a policeman with the Beattyville police force, Boggy Hines, a coalminer, and Marilyn Little, a nurse with her six-year-old son Monroe, they were black and they were in danger. The doctor, Katie Lee was Korean, and their newest addition, Angela Santo, was Puerto Rican. They had all become targets of the new regime. Earl Bayheart, a mechanic and white, he was helping to protect everyone and had come to live with Harry and Willene. Clay and Katie were nearly murdered themselves, but for a timely intervention.

  Alan had saved Katie at the hospital, when men came to kill her. They’d already murdered her mother and father, and Alan’s valor had continued by saving Angela. He is a fine young man, Harry thought.

  “Next, we need to take Beattyville back from Audrey and the KKK. We can’t have that lowlife murdering at will, and using people as his personal slave labor. We need intel, we need to know how many men and women he has working for him, where they are located, living, gathering in numbers. Who they are and how can we turn the tide. There have to be many more people who are against this lunacy.”

  “I kin talk ta my grandpa, I spect he’ll know some folks an knowed what ta do.” Alan said, his mouth and jaw trying to firm up.

  “I have a cousin, and he was a marine, way back when. Maybe you can locate him, I’m sure he has connections as well. His name is Bonaparte Patterson, his friends call him Boney.” Clay suggested.

  “Thank ya kindly, I’sal do that.” Alan said, wiping his nose on the handkerchief.

  “Also, I’ll give you the address of my apartment, I’ve got a lot of food there. You’re more than welcome to it, and if you come this way again, you can bring some of the food and maybe some of my clothes and things if you don’t mind.” Clay offered.

  Harry looked at Clay, then at the thin youth. “That won’t be necessary Clay, we have more than enough food here, don’t worry. If you want Alan to have it, that’s fine, but honestly, we are well set up here. That is a great idea about picking up your personal things, I know you’ll be a lot more comfortable with things that fit.” Harry grinned at Clay, understanding the need to have your own things around you. Cl
ay was big man and Harry’s clothes didn’t quite fit him.

  “If you’re sure, I really want to help and contribute what I can with the food. Otherwise,” he said, looking at Alan, “you’re welcome to it. If you find anyone struggling, maybe share with them.” Clay said, shrugging his broad shoulders.

  “Thank ya Officer Patterson.” Alan said shyly, a soft grin on his homely face, “I’s will be sure ta pick somma your’uns thangs up an bringm by har, soon as may be.”

  “Just Clay.” Clay smiled at the teen.

  “Alan, go home and get things rolling. I will caution you to be very careful though. You won’t know who to trust right off, so go slowly. Do not let anyone know who is here, except your grandfather.” Harry warned.

  “Oh no sir! I ain’t tell anyone that. I ain’t even telt my grandpa whar Dr. Katie is.” Alan said earnestly.

  Harry grinned, “Good man.”

  “Alan, I will follow you in my truck. I need you to take me to the Santo’s home. I’ll need to gather up all Angela’s things, especially diapers and anything else she might need. Clay, I’ll go ahead and swing by your place as well and pick up what I can. Alan, I’ll also help get the bodies of Angela’s family down. I’ll bring them back here and we will bury them in back beside my grandfather.”

  “Thank ya Harry, I’s much abliged.” Alan said, relief suffusing his face.

  “Thank you, Harry, I really appreciate you getting my things as well.” Clay said.

  “Do you think you’ll be able to make it back here, Alan?” Katie asked.

  “Yes’um, I kin try. I’s can maybe syphon somma that thar gas from alla them abandin cars. Git me back here.” He answered shyly, blushing profusely, the tips of his ears going bright pink.

  “I’s thank he shud only come at night. I’s spect he’d a know iffn anyone be afollowin him.” Boggy suggested, his eyes large and watching. Boggy didn’t always say a lot, but Harry knew that when the kid did say something, it was well worth listening to.

  “That’s a good idea Boggy, from now on Alan, only come at night, and vary the times. Just to make sure no one is following you. Always try to keep in mind, situational awareness.” Harry suggested.

  “Sure nuff, I’s gonna go now.” Alan said and Harry walked with the boy down the hill.

  “Give me a minute to get my truck and a tarp to put over the bodies.” Harry said ran back up to get his keys. He saw Earl coming around from back with a tarp, Earl had read his mind. He grinned, and got into the truck.

  “I’s figured you’uns could use a extra pair o’ eyes.” Earl said, patting his shotgun.

  Harry grinned and got in, “Yeah, I think any more, it’ll take a lot of everyone using an extra set of eyes.”

  When they got to the tree, Harry’s stomach turned, and his mouth filled with saliva. He had to swallow a few times to get it under control. He’d seen death before and it was always ugly. He let the anger rise up, and it nearly suffocated him, it also took the nausea away. His eyes narrowed, and his jaw was clinched, the muscles bunching and bulging. His hands ached to punch something, to find the bastards who’d done this horrible thing.

  “Lord’a mercy. I’s ain’t know howd they coulda kilt a whole family.” Earl said breathlessly, a sob choking his voice.

  Harry had to blink back tears, seeing the bodies swing gently in the early evening breeze. He wiped angrily at his eyes. Their grotesque faces turned toward the setting sun, bloated and blackened, their soft hair lifting in the breeze. The loud buzz of heavy bloated flies permeated the air around them. The flies crawling obscenely over the corrupt faces, over the bulging dead eyes, their iridescent purples and blues flashing in the fading light.

  A short distance away, in an old bent oak, a murder of crows gathered, cawing their discontent. Their bead black eyes watched the men in interest, their heads cocking back and forth. A few ruffled their feathers then took flight. Harry guessed they’d been about to feast, but coming late. He and Earl were going to take their prize. Harry was glad they’d gotten to the bodies before the crows. The flies were bad enough.

  Harry heard Earl retching behind the truck. He swallowed heavily. The air was redolence of decay, heavy and cloying and the incessant buzzing didn’t help. He had to look away for a moment, thoughts of writhing maggots in every soft opening filled his mind. He was glad it hadn’t gotten that far either. They didn’t even look like humans any more.

  He walked over to Alan, who’d started weeping again. He placed a hand on the young man’s narrow shoulders.

  “You’re a brave young man Alan, you shouldn’t have to face this kind of nightmare at your age. But you have and you’ve saved two people. I’m sorry again, that your friend and his family were murdered. Let’s get them down and we’ll make sure they get a proper burial.”

  Alan nodded and wiped an arm across his face, his large eyes red and swollen. Harry got back into his truck and backed it up, beneath the bodies. He and Alan held each body as Earl cut them down, and they laid them side by side in the bed of the truck. Harry had to clench his eyes shut and hold his breath. He swallowed again and again, feeling the lifeless flaccid flesh beneath his hands. Once they’d been cut down, Harry and Earl secured the tarp over them.

  The smell was ungodly and Harry wondered if he’d be able to wash the oily stench from his body and clothes. He and Earl got back in the truck and followed Alan to the Santo’s home. As they drove, he and Earl didn’t speak. He glanced at Earl, who was looking out the window and he could see the shimmer of tears hanging suspended in the man’s eyes.

  Harry’s own eyes felt dry, because his rage was so high, his body dried the tears that would have been there. He could feel the boiling heat of the savage fury that filled him and washed through him. The inhumanity of it all was staggering. He followed Alan’s truck into a small cul-de-sac of cookie cutter homes. He pulled in behind Alan’s truck. Harry got out and walked to his truck.

  “You’d best get home, you don’t want to be seen hanging around here too long. Be careful, keep a low profile and remember situational awareness, be aware of everything and everyone around you.”

  “I’s sure will Harry. Thank you’uns.” Alan said and reached his hand out to shake Harry’s hand. Harry shook it firmly, using both hands to clasp the younger man’s hand, willing strength into him.

  Harry stood in the road for a while as he watched the young man drive away. He knew that it would be dangerous for Alan, there were so many unknowns, but he was hoping that the boy would be overlooked and underestimated. Harry just hoped he hadn’t doomed the boy.

  “I’ll head in, hit the horn if you have any problems.” Harry told Earl.

  Earl smiled a gummy smile and gave a salute, and Harry thought he still looked a little pale from his earlier episode with retching. He turned and headed into the Santo’s home, the door was unlocked. He drew his weapon, and opened the door. When he stepped in, he could immediately detect something foul. He raised his weapon, his eyes narrowing.

  The house was dark, and he felt around in his pocket, and found his small LED flashlight. He stood still by the front door, his eyes moving and illuminated the interior of the house, the light arcing over the room. His ears tried to pick up any movement or sound. The furniture had been turned over, books had been thrown about the floor and someone had defecated on top of a stack of college books, and several portraits.

  Harry shook his head, he stepped in, and saw that all the photographs that had been on the wall had also been torn down and thrown about the room. It looked like they’d tried to start a fire, but the pile had only smoldered and had eventually gone out. He moved to the kitchen, all the cabinets were open, dishes had been thrown to the floor and broken. He checked and found no food. He did find some jars of toddler baby food, which had not been broken. He wondered if they’d had a moment of conscience.

  He found several empty shopping bags, he placed the jars carefully into the bags. He found paper towels and crumpled up several and used them to c
ushion the small glass jars. He found some small spoons and dishes and he added those to the bag. He worked his way into the bedrooms. He found the family dog, a small one, it had been stomped to death. That must have been part of the foulness in the house. Someone had defecated on the bed in the master bedroom.

  He found some photos of the family on the nightstand, and he placed those in the bag. He went into the bathroom and found toilet paper, shampoos and feminine hygiene items, and placed all of those in the bag. He then went into the boy’s room, there wasn’t as much damage, though books and papers were strewn around. He found several more photos and put them in the bags. He stood for a moment and looked around. It was a typical teenage boy’s room. His heart broke once more for the horror the child went through before his life was ripped so violently from him. The evil deeds men do, it was beyond his comprehension. Sadly, it was nothing new and he’d seen it before in Afghanistan and Iraq.

  He headed to Angela’s room and looked around, this room was completely untouched. He walked in and saw that she had lots of stuffed animals, dolls and toys. He went into Robert’s room and got the pillow case from his bed. He went back and began to get diapers, clothes, blankets, toys and other things he thought the child would either need or want later. He wanted to get her things for when she was older, as remembrance of her family. Once he finished, he walked back to the living room. He looked among the family photos that hadn’t been desecrated and pulled them from the rubble. He found a photo album and pulled that out as well.

  He walked to the door and put his hand on the doorknob. The house was now a shell, there would be no laughter, no love, no family. The men who’d done this had destroyed much more than personal effects, they destroyed a family’s legacy, they destroyed a little girl’s life, and her family.

  ֎

  Bella May Hogg sat rocking patiently in the cool basement. Her solar lantern brightened the space considerably. She hummed pleasantly to herself as she sipped her soup, it was good, though the meat was a little gamey. The basement was cozy enough, but just a little chilly. The soup warmed her insides delightfully.