American Blackout (Book 2): Slaves Beneath The Stars Read online

  Hank Holaday raised his 12-gauge shotgun. Cricket glanced back at the barn and saw that Sister Marie had drawn her weapon and was imploring Lee Ann and Lily to step farther inside, past the horse stalls, beyond the table of cookies and punch softly lit by orange battery-powered lanterns. The mechanics, Forrest and Oakley, both held pistols trained on the intruders, and the boys waited for instruction.

  Hank took a few steps toward the trio. “I got ’em covered. Watch out for others rushing us.” Cricket swung 360 degrees, two hands on the Colt. Fritz backed up his grandfather.

  “We’re not playing games!” Cricket shouted at the intruders, whose masks hid the real monsters beneath. Jason’s long, matted hair stuck out on the sides, and his neck was wet with blood. “Boys, stay put!” Ethan and Caleb moved closer to Cricket and her husband. Ethan drew his knife and held his brother’s hand.

  One of the intruders grumbled, “Trick or treat” and turned his sack upside down, and out spilled the viscera of some butchered animal. Caleb hit the ground when three rapid shots came from the barn and the trick-or-treaters started to collapse, but not before attempting to draw their weapons. Sister Marie kept yelling, “The pasture!”

  Off Cricket’s left, popping up from their bellies in the throes of a war cry, were six savages carrying machetes and guns. All dressed strangely, some wearing headdresses, and they shot their guns into the air like they were performing a raid of shock and awe to impress rather than kill. Cricket felt a moment of dreamlike paralysis before she and Fritz fired away, helped by the rifleman, who slayed two of them immediately. Hank fired the shotgun and one attacker fell, before a bullet collapsed Grandpa Holaday. One maniac, already shot multiple times, still charged screaming, swinging his machete overhead. Cricket took aim and creased his face with a .45 round.

  Two Disney characters rolled over the ground in agony, and Cricket sprayed them with bullets. Goofy still tossed about as she snapped in a new magazine. Growing deaf from the mayhem, Cricket heard only gibberish, not the curses from the savage who still had the strength to flip her off. Several rounds reduced mask and flesh into a bloody paste.

  Fritz went to his grandfather, and Cricket continued to sweep the area with Ethan at her side. Caleb cried, calling for his parents. At the entrance of the barn, Sister Marie stood shoulder to shoulder with the rifleman, Doctor James Claubauf.

  Cricket saw that all the attackers were costumed, one dressed as a woman wearing a Donald Duck mask. “Ethan, get inside the barn with Caleb. Help Sister. Help the girls. Now!”

  Ann, the boys’ mother, came running from the house yelling their names.

  Ethan sheathed his knife and took Caleb’s hand, meeting their mom inside the main barn.

  The bonfire still raged; the night air was still cool and sweet, but mixed with gunpowder and the smell of the dead. Weapon raised, Cricket moved closer to her wounded friend. He was bleeding from his side, and Fritz was applying direct pressure to the wound.

  “Move your hands and feet,” Fritz commanded, and his grandfather did, smiling painfully. “We got to get you to the house, and we need blankets.”

  Hank’s eyes watered at the attention. He went to say something, and Fritz told him to save it until later.

  Ethan ran to Cricket’s side, and his mom screamed for him to come back.

  “Wait at the barn,” Cricket said. “We go back to the house all together. Stay away from the attackers and stick close to your mom and brother. Keep your head on straight.” The boy did as told, and Cricket moved toward the woods and the dead trio. She heard the tractor start up.

  She had witnessed rounds tear off faces and brutalize chests and necks and was pretty sure the attackers from the meadow were dead, but she needed to be completely sure. The first Halloween “guests” emerging from the woods had fallen quickly. Looking past the bonfire, did she see an arm move in the moonlight?

  3

  Scream and Die

  Gun and flashlight in hand, Cricket examined the trio. Doctor Claubauf, Hank’s friend, had used her Remington .270 she had left leaning against the refreshment table. The gun was fitted with an Orion night vision scope, and he had dropped two savages with shots to the chest and Frankenstein with a head shot. The torso of the Scream-costumed savage was wet with blood. There was less blood on Jason and his mask still evoked fear, as if she expected a sudden lurch from death. She considered gifting each savage with a final bullet but didn’t want to worry her friends with more shooting.

  She used the tip of her boot to lift the Jason mask and nearly lost her balance, startled by Scream crawling toward her, stabbing the ground with a long knife. She quickly circled the living dead, stomping his neck and grabbing the weapon. She glanced back at Ethan, who was watching Fritz attend to his grandfather. Swiftly, she pulled down the hood, lifted the killer by his hair, and made a deep slice across his throat.

  She returned to Jason and drove the blade straight into his throat. The monster never stirred. Frankenstein’s brains scattered over the ground were enough insurance that the iconic monster was finished.

  Cricket stumbled backward, her legs weak, her stomach fighting itself. She had seen the movie Scream at sixteen and hated the cowardly monster in the Scream mask and his brutal killing of Drew Barrymore. She identified with Neve Campbell, but the actress had made it through many rough scenes with determination, not puking as Cricket now did on unsteady legs.

  4

  The Real Prize

  Cricket was still bent over, spitting at the ground, when the voices of adults and kids quickly reached a crescendo.

  In the barn’s orange glow, a savage held a large knife to Lily’s throat. Dressed in a black muscle shirt and wearing a Chewbacca mask, the monster hugged the girl close with his bare arm. The mechanics lunged and then quickly retreated as the savage jerked backward, fully exposing the blade against Lily’s slim neck.

  Ann and Sister Marie demanded that the fiend release the girl. Forrest went to escort the children back into the house when Lee Ann ran toward her sister. Cricket started to charge and abruptly stopped as Lee Ann fell into the monster’s orbit and the savage lifted the older girl off the ground: throat, blade, and intent in terrible union.

  “We’ll give you safe passage if you release both girls,” Cricket yelled, pacing angrily, helpless as the nightmare persisted a mere fifty feet away.

  Fritz came up along her side. “We can’t get any closer. He’s made no demands. God, what does he want?”

  Chewbacca stared at the blonde girl in defiance and then clumsily whipped around to make sure no one was approaching from either side or from behind.

  “Where’s Oakley?” Cricket asked.

  “I don’t know. I thought he went with Forrest to bring the kids inside.”

  “Never saw him go.”

  They did see Claubauf standing next to Sister Marie, arms folded, as if listening to a lecture by another professor on a mildly interesting subject.

  The voices of the adults rose, a chorus of anxiety, watching Lee Ann carry on a one-sided conversation with the monster, who suddenly lunged at her, relaxing his grip on Lily, who nearly wiggled free. The swift-footed Lee Ann eluded capture, and her monologue never ceased.

  Scanning the players, Cricket noticed that Claubauf had left the scene. Soon, she heard the tractor start up, yet the monster never flinched, concentrating on whatever Lee Ann was telling him. The madness of the moment infuriated Cricket: Chewbacca, the benevolent, loyal creature of the movies—always full of empathy—now pressed sharp steel to a child’s throat.

  The adults kept imploring Lee Ann to return to them. Cricket became frightened that the wrong words, or a rise in the emotional volume, would soon incite the monster to violence.

  Cricket didn’t know what to do next. Fritz, fearing a rash move, held her arm. In the past she had charged into chaos, surprising the savages, winning the day. But now she couldn’t move.

  Chewbacca kept Lily lifted off the ground, her head close to his, making a
head shot unlikely.

  Lee Ann tried a Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. Arms wide open, her impassioned voice climbing not in fear but in love for her older sister. When she reached up to touch Chewbacca’s face, he let go of Lily and dove for Lee Ann, the real prize. But he never had a chance to make the exchange. From the shadows of the barn, Oakley surprised him with a chokehold, and the savage’s final word was a racial slur. Both girls ran back into the arms of their loved ones, while Oakley locked his legs around the monster, who slashed wildly at the black mechanic.

  Ann hustled the girls to safety, and Sister Marie kept pressure on Hank’s wound. Fritz and Cricket joined the fray, Fritz pinning the knife arm to the ground and Cricket doing her best to immobilize Chewbacca’s free arm.

  No part of the savage gave up until Oakley’s chokehold sent him into that gray area of semi-consciousness where he flailed and his power quickly waned. When he finally stopped moving, Oakley continued to strangle away. Though Fritz had possession of the knife and both arms were lifeless, Oakley kept his vice grip.

  “He’s finished,” Fritz said, breathing hard, looking to Cricket, who raised her gravity knife, ready to drive it into Chewbacca’s heart. Fritz repeated himself, yet Cricket was poised to attack until Fritz ripped off the mask and they both saw the dead eyes and jutting tongue in the orange light, mocking the living.

  Cricket was finally convinced. She said as much to Oakley, who was crying not from the tremendous exertion and release, but over the monstrous fact that a devil had nearly ended the lives of two angels.

  5

  Smart and Brave

  Doctor Claubauf came motoring up. The tractor pulled a short bed trailer, which already had a bed of straw from a hayride Hank had given the kids before nightfall.

  “Always good to have Claw around,” Hank said, moaning loudly, turning his head, making sure everyone he loved was safe. “And Oakley, my God, he’s a hero.” Cricket put a finger to his lips, and he became quiet.

  “I’ll hang back here, check for any identification, collect their weapons.” Fritz talked as the three of them laid Hank carefully on his back.

  Cricket needed to check on the girls, while Oakley and Forrest returned to guarding the immediate area around the farmhouse and other buildings. She met Ann at the door. Earlier that day Ann’s husband, Lawrence, had taken Cricket’s ’67 Plymouth Barracuda to a small town west of Parkersburg to check on her parents.

  Inside, the girls were drinking hot chocolate Ann had prepared, and both her boys were bringing them water, food, and whatever else they needed. Seeing Cricket walk in, they flew into her arms.

  “Lee Ann, you were talking forever.” Cricket held the girl’s face, wet with tears. “My God, you two girls were so brave.”

  “I didn’t say anything,” Lily said.

  Cricket kissed the top of her head. “That was smart and brave. Lee Ann was the hostage negotiator, and you were the strong, patient one, waiting to make your move.”

  “Lee Ann saved my life,” Lily said, and started to cry. “She offered her life for mine.”

  6

  A Lucky Man

  Weeks ago, Sister Marie had insisted on a makeshift surgery table for serious injuries. The dining room table had been pushed to the side and an old workbench, its legs cut down a foot and its narrow top cushioned with a futon, and covered with plastic and sheets, had been carried by the mechanics from the main barn to the center of the room under a bright floor lamp powered by a small generator that roared outside the back door.

  Oakley had a few minor cuts that Sister had cleaned and dressed before he went back on patrol. Hank, their main patient, occupied the modified operating table.

  Sister made her demands for clean towels, water, sterile wipes. She asked Hank questions to determine if he was going into shock and checked his pulse with two fingers laid against the side of his neck.

  “Hank, did you vomit at all?” Eyes closed, he shook his head no. “Let me know if you’re starting to fade or can’t understand a question. I don’t think the bullet struck any organs. It’s near the surface.”

  “Why doesn’t Doctor Claubauf operate?” Lee Ann looked about, and Ethan answered for the adults who were busy cutting Hank’s shirt and sterilizing his wound.

  “He’s a doctor of physics, not a doctor of medicine.”

  Claubauf stood in the kitchen, fit for sixty-four, tall, lanky, a runner’s body. He had a pockmarked, narrow face and thinning, dark hair. Nicknamed “Claw” by Hank, the doctor lived in town but was currently staying with the mechanics in the bunkhouse.

  “I’m headed back to help Fritz,” Claubauf stated, acknowledging Ethan’s accuracy with a grin. “And I’m much better with a rifle than a scalpel.”

  Hank Holaday’s long sigh ended with a moan.

  “After we clean the wound, Hank, I’ll numb the area with lidocaine,” Sister said.

  “Whiskey should do.” Hank tried to raise his head to look at the damage and was gently pushed back down by the petite Ann Davies, whose short, golden hair and smooth skin looked dazzling under the light.

  “Angels of all sizes and shapes.” Hank smiled at the women. “A lucky man am I.”

  “Agreed,” Cricket said. From a surgery kit obtained by Fritz from Cleveland Command, Cricket handed Sister a syringe and a bottle of the anesthetic. “Ethan and Caleb, guard the back porch and keep Diesel outside. Girls, stay nearby; we’re going to need more water.”

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Caleb said as Sister injected the lidocaine around all sides of the wound.

  “You’ll be better outside with your brother,” his mom said. “Now go.”

  “You’ll be fine, Grandpa,” Ethan said, leaving in a hurry, Diesel and Caleb on his heels.

  All the kids had taken to calling Hank Grandpa. To Cricket he was Hank Holaday, retired machinist, gentleman farmer, and pilot. In the two months they had been at the Holaday farm, the kids had received a fine education in animal husbandry: chickens, cows, horses, and beekeeping.

  Soon after the injection, Hank tried to suppress a grunt as Sister probed the wound for bullet fragments.

  “Good news, Hank. It looks to be small-caliber, hit your belt first.”

  Cricket used a sponge to pat his face and forehead, backed up by the girls, who raced back and forth with fresh towels and a glass of water that he sipped after taking his antibiotic pill.

  “Okay, my wife isn’t going to be happy…” Hank broke off his sentence. He blinked and came back. “Goodness. My wife’s been gone for three years.”

  “It’s the lidocaine,” Sister replied, having Cricket hold the flashlight closer. “Confusion is a side effect.”

  “Side effects,” Hank mumbled, shaking his head, annoyed, as though watching a commercial with a list of six hundred potential side effects from some wonderful new drug. “Guess they can’t get a hold of those genies yet.”

  This made Cricket smile. Since meeting Hank, she had heard him use the word “genies” for everything below the surface, that tiny, active universe, joy all around, “all swim” declared on the subatomic level.

  Sister’s face glistened with sweat. “Hank, good news: I found the bullet in your love handle. It never got near an organ. Still looking for clothing or a piece of your belt.”

  “Look,” Hank said, pointing at the window. “I’m not seeing things—that’s Stan the cat! Haven’t seen him in a week.”

  “That’s him, Grandpa,” Lee Ann said. “You think he wants to come in?”

  “No,” Hank said, starting to giggle. “Stan is part of the great outdoors. Now and forever. He once saved my life!”

  The women ignored Hank’s startling claim, yet Cricket did notice the cat just staring at Hank. There were several barn cats, but Stan the cat was the most impressive. Small for a male but mighty, like Hank had often said. A moment later Stan the cat was gone.

  “Let’s stay focused,” Sister Marie said.

  Lee Ann nodded and handed Sister a fresh tow
el to pat around the open wound. Hank eyed the young girl, now pointing at her with a big smile. “Lee Ann, what did you tell that scoundrel so he’d let go of your sister?”

  “I told him I saw Star Wars with my parents for the first time on my birthday last March, and that Chewbacca would never harm anyone, especially a young person, or someone older, like in college. I told him that even though he was doing a bad thing, he didn’t scare me, because I loved Chewbacca from the very first time I saw him.”

  7

  Internal Bleeding

  Diesel’s barking brought Cricket to the back steps in time to see Fritz walking alongside the tractor and the dead attackers piled on the flatbed trailer.

  “Taking the ‘trash’ out to the pit,” Claubauf said. Across the road, on twenty acres of Hank’s that had been fallow for several years, a neighbor had dug out a large section with his backhoe, initially for burying garbage right after the solar storm had clobbered the planet. Claubauf’s old tractor fitted with a plow shoveled the dirt back over the “trash.” Lime was then spread to cover the smell and inhibit the growth of pathogens.

  The solar disturbance followed by an EMP attack was now five months old. The sun had disabled many of the country’s power grids, and a week later an Iranian nuke, exploded high above Kansas, created an electromagnetic pulse, a cosmic “lightning strike,” finishing off the digital age. From Command, Fritz had learned that a few cities and regions across the U.S. had become stable, possibly California’s Central Valley, while most had fallen into chaos, their citizens dying from a lack of food, medicine, and law enforcement. Captain Fritz Holaday’s mission was to patrol in a restored P-51 Mustang along the Ohio River and communicate problems as they arose. The recent prison outbreak outside of Cincinnati was a new worry.