EMP Post-Apocalyptic Survival by Hunt, James (acx book reading .TXT) 📗

into this without clearing the air.” He adjusted himself in the saddle, which he looked uncomfortable in.

Ben didn’t think the man had spent much time on horseback during his life.

“I never go into a war zone unless I trust the man around me absolutely.” He looked to Ben with intensity. “Did you kill Beckett?”

Ben held the colonel’s gaze. “I didn’t kill your man.” He cleared his throat. “It was my brother.”

Jackson frowned. “Your brother? Did I meet him back at the facility?”

“No,” Ben answered. “My brother is part of The New Order. I hadn’t seen him in almost a decade. He tracked me to my facility after I rescued my daughter from one of the prison camps. I didn’t even know it was him until the very last second.”

Ben hoped that the omission of truth about his brother would build trust between them. And judging from Jackson’s expression, Ben’s gamble had paid off.

“You’re really serious about that, aren’t you?” Jackson asked.

“I wish I wasn’t,” Ben answered. “But it’s the truth. He came to my camp and kidnapped my daughter. He nearly killed me, and I almost killed him.”

“So he got away,” Jackson said, and then he shifted in the saddle again. “That’s why you want backup from the military. You think he’s going to come back with more people.”

“I don’t know what to think,” Ben said. “The only thing matters to me now is making sure that my family is safe. And if getting the military involved helps accomplish that goal, then so be it.”

Jackson was silent, and their conversation faded into the clicks of the horse’s hooves and their soft breathing and occasional whinny. Ben thought maybe he had said too much but then Jackson broke the silence.

“Family is a hell of a thing,” Jackson said. “I imagine there are quite a few people who have brothers and sisters, uncles and fathers, friends who have joined this organization. For so long, our country has been divided by hateful rhetoric. And it appears that the time for talking is over. It’s a shame.” He looked to Ben. “I’m sorry.”

“And I’m sorry about your man,” Ben said.

When they were less than a mile away from the supposed camp stationed in Eustis, Ben and Jackson tied off the horses, leaving them behind. They figured that the enemy camp would have guards on duty and wanted to sneak up unnoticed, a task much easier to complete without a horse.

The town of Eustis was small with a population of fewer than one hundred people and was nothing more than a few buildings and a single stoplight along the highway. But on the town’s outskirts was a trailer park where Ben figured the town had earned most of its money. It was positioned in the middle of a few major cities and provided an overnight stay for anybody who was RVing or towing a trailer.

When Ben and Jackson found the town empty, Ben figured the operation was in the RV park, and when they approached, they saw the security stationed around the perimeter.

“How many guys, you think?” Ben asked.

Jackson studied the perimeter, giving it some thought. “I see five, and they probably have a reserve station somewhere, so it could be double that. Not to mention the guys they probably have watching the workers in each of those trailers.”

Ben counted at least a dozen trailers scattered across the open lot. There weren’t many trees and foliage, which made sneaking around the place that much more difficult.

“We need to find a way in and figure out exactly what’s inside those trailers,” Ben said.

“We should hang back for a few minutes and get a feel for their security,” Jackson said. “If we can figure out when they made it past, we can figure out how to time it so we can evade their guards.”

Ben and Jackson waited, watching how the security team would navigate the trailer park. They seemed to stick to the perimeter, but every once in a while, a man would come out of the portables and relieve one of the guys outside. If they didn’t relieve anybody, they went to the trailer in the center of the lot. Ben figured that was where the sleeping quarters were for the guards.

Once they had the paths down, with the exception of the random guard stepping out of the portables, Ben and Jackson readied themselves.

“I know you can handle yourself with a weapon,” Jackson said. “But we’re not going inside guns blazing. Understand that, right?”

“Stealth is definitely the way to go,” Ben answered. “I don’t have a problem with that.”

Jackson checked his pistol, making sure everything was loaded. “Listen, when you’re in the heat of battle, it can be easier to kill a man. There’s a lot of things happening all at once. But have you ever been in a situation where you killed somebody quietly?”

Ben had already killed more people than he had ever wanted to, but he knew these were extreme circumstances. The only thing that could make this worse was the fact that he had to kill someone who hadn’t engaged in any violence with him.

“I thought you said we shouldn’t cause a scene,” Ben said.

“I said we shouldn’t go in guns blazing,” Jackson replied. “Look, the only reason I ask is in order for this recon mission to work, we might have to put some guys out of their misery. In order to do that, we’ll need to make sure we don’t fire our weapons.”

Ben reached for the blade on his pant leg. “I understand.” Ben always believed in preparing for the worst-case scenario. It was the reason he was so attracted to prepping. It gave him the tools necessary to make sure that he could survive with his family. It offered a layer of protection, a buffer to a world that cared nothing about your well-being.

But he knew no amount of preparation could prepare him for sneaking up behind a man and killing him in cold blood.

However, Ben forced himself to remember