Unknown World: The EMP Survivor Series - Book 3 Page 9

  Kurt let go of the man’s collar. His head hit the ground with a thud. As Kurt gazed upon the old man, he silently thanked the karma Gods that these people got what they deserved. There had been rumors of an inn near Austin where several people had disappeared over the years, but the authorities would never publically announce the name of the inn. The rumor mill had also indicated the inn was run by an old man and woman, along with their two granddaughters. This place sure was evil, and Kurt wanted nothing more to do with the old man.

  “Sorry, old-timer, there’s nothing I can do.”

  * * *

  After Kurt caught a glance of the young woman riding double on the horse, he was sure it was Amanda. She didn’t exhibit any recognition of him or his voice when he greeted them. He figured the last time she saw him was close to five years ago when he was overweight and sported a close-cropped haircut. If the EMP had done anything, it had caused Kurt to drop about thirty pounds, leaving him with lean muscle instead of fat. With the beard and long hair sticking out of the cap, there was no way she would have recognized him.

  Several days prior to when Kurt passed Amanda and Chandler, he had stopped at Holly’s ranch under the pretense he was searching for a long-lost relative who he thought lived on the same ranch road as Holly did. Holly had invited him in and fed him, which gave Kurt an opportunity to gather as much information as he could.

  He’d lathered on the southern charm, thanking Holly profusely for the meal and fresh water, and complimenting her on how they had successfully dealt with the lack of electricity. To think this was the woman who had a bounty on her, and Kurt had come within a cat’s whisker of collecting it. If she had known that, who knows what she would have done to him?

  Her home was warm and comfortable, and if it hadn’t been for Kurt’s allegiance to his big brother, well, he would have stayed a while. When Dillon came in, he took a seat at the table and asked Kurt how the cities were faring, to which Kurt replied, “They’re hellholes. Gangs have formed, neighborhoods are cordoned off, people are starving or laying dead in the streets.”

  Without appearing obvious or too interested in their previous houseguests, Kurt let Holly and Dillon do most of the talking. He learned he had missed Amanda and Chandler by three days. Figuring a horse walked at a steady clip of four mph, Kurt made a mental calculation about how fast he’d need to pedal to catch up with them.

  A crude estimation put them about one hundred thirty miles ahead of Kurt. He could pedal a bike at ten miles per hour, so with any luck, he would overtake them before they reached Austin.

  While Holly talked, Kurt nodded every so often, all the while thinking how pleased Zack would be.

  The plan to deliver Amanda was shaping up nicely.

  * * *

  Nipper was tucked safely in his carrier, and Amanda and Chandler continued into the night. Weary, wary, they rode without stopping, the mule following behind. They passed farms and dark houses, crossed the winding Colorado River, until finally they were at the outskirts of Austin. Coming to a rise in the land, they stopped and peered at the city.

  The streets were quiet, void of the hustle and bustle of morning commuters. A man on a bicycle pedaled along an empty street. A shop owner peered out of his shop, checking the sidewalk in both directions. Using a brick, he propped open the door then went about the mundane task of sweeping the sidewalk.

  The east sun was behind Amanda and Chandler, casting long shadows upon the land.

  “Do you see the Tower in the distance?” Chandler asked, pointing in a westward direction.

  “Yes, why?” Amanda asked.

  “We’ll be passing right by there. I’ve always thought of it like a lighthouse, calling people who were lost.”

  “I’ve never thought of it that way. I lived in Austin for seventeen years and I never stopped to look at it. I guess I was too young to appreciate it.”

  “When UT wins a football game, the Tower lights up in orange. You can see it from miles away.”

  “It’s dark now,” Amanda said.

  “Come on,” Chandler said. “We’ll be going by it, so we might as well stop and water the horses at the fountain.”

  “The Littlefield Fountain?”

  “Yup?”

  “Why there? There won’t be any fresh water.”

  Chandler scanned the countryside. “It’s rained here recently. There should be plenty of water in the fountain.”

  “Why don’t we find a creek instead?”

  “The creeks around here are too dangerous. Too wooly and dark. Lots of places for people to hide to ambush us. I don’t want to take a chance. It’ll be safer to water Cowboy and the mule at the fountain.” Chandler jerked his head in the direction they need to go. “Come on, we’re almost home.”

  Chapter 16

  Zack Durant had a restless night in the observation deck of the University of Texas Tower. The wind whipped the twenty-ninth floor during the night, windows rattled, and the cold seeped into the crevices, chilling him to the bone. He woke to the first cold light of morning casting sunbeams on the walls of the Tower.

  Shrugging out of the sleeping bag, he briskly rubbed his arms and stamped his feet. It was so damn cold he could see his breath in the room. What he needed was a large steaming hot cup of coffee.

  Zack checked his walkie-talkie. He had kept two walkie-talkies and extra batteries in an EMP proof safe in his former car shop. At the time, he didn’t know it was EMP proof, but now he was glad he had forked over the extra money at the time.

  The walkie-talkie crackled to life. “Bobby, you awake?”

  Bobby was Zack’s right hand man, and if Zack had asked him to jump, Bobby would have replied “How high?”

  “I’m awake now.”

  “Has Kurt gotten back yet?”

  “He just rode in before daybreak. Said he wanted to see you first thing in the morning.”

  “Good. Send him up here with a hot cup of coffee.”

  “On it now, boss.”

  * * *

  Fifteen minutes later Kurt sat down at the table in the observation deck across from Zack, who was staring at him intently.

  Kurt poured coffee from a thermos into a mug and set it on the table. His hands shook and a drop of coffee sloshed out. “Here’s your coffee.”

  Zack noticed Kurt’s shaking hands, but didn’t say anything. He took a sip then set the cup on the table. “It’s hot and black. Just like I like it.”

  Kurt dug around in his pockets searching for a nutrition bar. He took it out and unwrapped it.

  “Since you don’t have Amanda, I guess you don’t have good news.”

  Kurt nervously took a bite of a chocolate infused nutrition bar, swallowed hard, and said, “I couldn’t get her.” He held his breath and waited for Zack to hurl a string of obscenities.

  Kurt had been given one order, which was to find Amanda and to bring her to Zack.

  Failure had not been part of the plan.

  Zack, didn’t blink, shuffle, or twitch at the revelation, only stared at his little brother. He swung his Barrett M107 to the side then idly twirled the mug, taking a drink. Zack’s purposeful movements belied the fact he was seething on the inside, and the vein on the side of his forehead looked like it was about to pop at any moment.

  Zack forcefully set the mug on the table, rattling it, which in the claustrophobic quarters echoed off the walls and caused Kurt to flinch. Zack leaned back in his chair, clasped his hands behind his head, and said, “Why not?” The comment was neither accusatory nor inflammatory.

  Kurt recounted what had happened when he and Trent tried to kidnap Amanda from her grandpa’s house. He told his brother about the bad weather, the first shot that killed Amanda’s grandpa, how Trent panicked and decided to try to kidnap Amanda out from under everyone’s noses, how the plan went awry, and how he had to leave before he was discovered.

  When Kurt dropped the bombshell about Amanda having a new boyfriend, Zack rocketed off the chair. “What! A new boyfriend?�
�� His face contorted into a mixture of rage and disbelief.

  A corner of Kurt’s mouth curled into a satisfied smirk. Turning the knife a little more, he said, “That’s right, and they’ve gotten real cozy riding double on a horse.” With his bravado increasing, Kurt met his brother face to face. “Your luck is about to change.”

  “How so?”

  “Chandler is escorting Amanda to her great aunt’s ranch. And you know what that means?”

  “Yeah,” Zack said. “They’ll have to travel through the middle of Austin, past me and my trusty M107 to get there.”

  After Kurt left, Zack sat back down, thinking. His plan was coming together after all, and Amanda wouldn’t even know she would be leading him to what he really wanted.

  * * *

  Since learning from Kurt that Amanda and Chandler were coming this way, Zack had been wound tighter than a rubber band ball.

  He estimated Amanda and Chandler were only hours behind him, which would put the unsuspecting travelers near the famous Forty Acres of the University of Texas sometime mid-morning.

  Zack had hatched his plan years ago, the seeds of which sprouted while Zack was employed as a grease monkey at a local car dealership. One day he overheard a well-dressed man talking on his cell phone regarding a large tract of prime real estate located on the west side of Austin. He had given directions to the place to his business partner, describing it as five hundred acres, some of it riverfront property that could be divided up and sold into smaller parcels, perhaps one to three acres each. They had talked about a master planned community with shops and cafés, and laughed about how much money they would make. He had said, “It will be like taking candy from a baby.”

  Zack knew where the land was located having driven the roads the businessman spoke about. Austin was growing west, further into the Hill Country where affluent folks wanted to live, hiking up the land prices—and property taxes—to a level higher than regular folks could afford.

  The businessmen had a slight problem.

  The woman who owned it had rebuffed all offers to sell, even when the businessmen had dangled several million dollars in front of her. She wasn’t married, didn’t have any kids, which meant she didn’t have anyone to will it to, other than a brother who had moved away from the homestead when he was a teenager. Technically, the brother was still part owner, but at the time, the businessmen concentrated on whittling away the old woman’s resolve to keep the land.

  Zack had studied the guy, noting how he dressed, the way he talked, even his mannerisms, swearing one day he’d be the one wheeling and dealing. He filed away the conversation, not knowing at the time exactly how it would come into play later on.

  Fast forward a couple of years. Zack and Amanda met and began dating. He listened to her blather on and on about her family and a great aunt who still lived on the homestead near west Austin that had been in the family since the mid-1800s.

  Zack had no desire to live the pioneer life, but when Amanda described the land and how “no-good” developers were trying to steal the land out from under great aunt, well, he started listening.

  The brother of the old woman who lived at the ranch was Amanda’s grandfather. So regardless of who died first, Amanda’s dad would inherit the land. And since Amanda was an only child, she was sitting on a gold mine. Zack wanted to be part of that.

  After the EMP struck, he had commandeered several buildings on the west mall of the University of Texas, making the Tower his headquarters. The Tower’s 360 degree view provided Kurt a bird’s eye view of the grounds and he’d be able to spot anyone who would try a coordinated attack. If anyone did, it would be foolish. They would suffer numerous casualties.

  Zack had at his disposal over twenty armed men who patrolled the boundary of his empire and anyone unlucky enough to accidentally step foot on his kingdom paid a heavy price. Supplies of food and water the wayward travelers carried were payment in exchange for their lives. Most acquiesced to the demands, but occasionally a shot would ring out, signifying the end of a life.

  Guadalupe Street, known as the Drag, signified the western boundary of Zack’s kingdom, and was patrolled by his henchmen. Pizza parlors and Chinese restaurants lining the street still contained non-perishable food, and if anyone tried to sneak in to steal any, they ended up with a bullet to the head.

  Zack didn’t give many people second chances.

  He peered out through the windows of the observation deck. The east sun brightened the wintery land, and from the appearance of the clear sky, it was going to be another bitterly cold day.

  He opened the door leading to the narrow ledge of the observation deck and stepped out. A waist high concrete railing rimmed the platform. At some point metal rebar had been attached to the concrete railing then bent and attached to the Tower itself, making the walkway safe from jumpers. It also meant it was virtually impenetrable from an attack launched by anyone trying to scale the walls.

  Nature called, so Zack took a leak over the railing. Scanning the eastern part of the city, way in the distance he saw riders on a horse. Didn’t Kurt tell him Amanda and Chandler were riding a horse? It must be them.

  Another thought crossed his mind. While he had never eaten horse meat, he heard others had. Fresh meat would be a luxury about now. Nearly all the campus squirrels had been eaten, and those that still survived learned real quick who was at the top of the food chain, becoming as skittish as their country counterparts.

  Zipping up his pants, Zack retrieved a pair of binoculars from inside the building. Stepping outside, he put the eyecups to his eyes, adjusted the focus, then found the horse and riders.

  Fools.

  He secured his Barrett M107 into place onto the walkway. He retrieved a chair from inside the observation deck and placed it so he had a comfortable spot to sit. His back was against the wall, his rifle pointed in the direction he estimated the horse and riders would travel.

  Tonight they’d have a feast and their bellies would be full for a change. The men could use a big meal. Heck, he’d even break out the beer he had stashed in a secret place.

  He’d also have Amanda.

  * * *

  Chandler and Amanda rode into east Austin along FM 969, which would soon turn into MLK Boulevard. Coming to the tollway, a plethora of cars, trucks, vans, and eighteen wheelers had been abandoned on the major thoroughfare. When a man wearing a hoodie and low riding pants saw the approaching riders, he ducked behind a truck.

  The winding, hilly road took them past an empty jail, an overgrown golf course, looted businesses, apartment complexes, and houses with boards nailed over the windows. Trash overflowed into the street, rats scurrying in and out of the debris, covered by clouds of flies.

  “Does the red X mean what I think it means?” Amanda asked. She had noticed several houses with a spray-painted red X on the door.

  “It means there’s a dead body in there.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Sorta like what happened during the Black Death. Guess we’ve come full circle in history.”

  “It’s better to leave the corpse in the house than on the street. We’ve got enough problems without more diseases breeding,” Chandler said.

  They rode in silence, accompanied by the steady rhythm of two sets of hooves clomping on pavement. People poked their heads out of doorways, intrigued by the sight of the horse and the mule.

  When the state cemetery came into view, Chandler said, “Famous Texans are buried there.”

  “Like who?” Amanda asked.

  “Stephen F. Austin for one. He’s the father of Texas. He brought three hundred families to Texas in 1825. He was only twenty-four when he did that.”

  “A few years older than me,” Amanda commented.

  “His father was the one who worked the deal, getting a grant that would give him permission to bring the families here. His father died soon after, so it was up to the son to carry out his father’s wishes. A family of four was allotted 1,280 acres. Farmers less, ranchers more.
Most of them settled along the Brazos and Colorado Rivers. It’s still prime real estate along those areas, especially the Colorado River.”

  “How do you know all that?”

  “I like to study history and what life was like back then. It was simpler.”

  “And harder. They didn’t have electricity or modern medicine. Travel was by steamboat.”

  “Or horse,” Chandler added.

  “Just like what we’re doing now.”

  “Yup, just like now.” Chandler paused, thinking. “There are a lot of Texas governors, Texas Rangers, U.S. senators and representatives, Confederate generals, and Revolutionary War veterans buried there. Their wives too.”

  “It looks so peaceful.” Amanda said.

  “It is. Haven’t you ever walked a cemetery before?”

  “Can’t say it’s on my bucket list of things to do. It’s kinda creepy, don’t you think?” Amanda looked at the old headstones as Chandler talked.

  “Not really. The trees are big, it’s quiet. Grounds are manicured.”

  “It looks like someone is still taking care of the place. The grass has been recently mowed.”

  “Society hasn’t imploded completely yet. Once it does, cemeteries will be the first to go. People will be too busy trying to live to look after the dead.”

  “Just like us,” Amanda said.

  “Exactly like us.”

  They rode along MLK Boulevard, traveling west toward the University of Texas campus. Once they crossed over I-35, Chandler felt more at ease. The big interstate was the eastern boundary of the University of Texas campus and a natural dividing line between opposite cultures of the city. One side prided itself on higher learning, while the other side of the interstate was the killing for a buck side of town.

  They were in Longhorn territory now.

  “The hard part is over,” Chandler said. “The east side of Austin isn’t exactly the best place to be. I didn’t want to stop anywhere.”