Survive the Panic (Nuclear Survival: Southern Grit Book 3) Read online

  Survive the Panic

  Nuclear Survival: Southern Grit Book Three

  Harley Tate

  Copyright © 2018 by Harley Tate. Cover and internal design © by Harley Tate. Cover image copyright © Deposit Photos, 2018.

  All rights reserved.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  The use of stock photo images in this e-book in no way imply that the models depicted personally endorse, condone, or engage in the fictional conduct depicted herein, expressly or by implication. The person(s) depicted are models and are used for illustrative purposes only.

  Contents

  Survive The Panic

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Acknowledgments

  About Harley Tate

  Survive The Panic

  Nuclear Survival: Southern Grit Book Three

  With no help in sight, could you make the hard choices?

  After risking everything, Grant and Leah Walton are finally reunited. But it’s no happy ending. As the reality of the situation dawns on their neighbors, the Waltons find themselves the subject of more than idle curiosity.

  Not everyone can be trusted.

  People they counted as friends now look at them with suspicion and fear. Faced with neighbors determined to take all they have, Grant and Leah prepare to leave. But strangers have other plans.

  If someone threatens all that you hold dear, could you fight back?

  In a world without enforcement, rules mean nothing. When a band of thieves turn a neighborhood disagreement into an all-out war, Grant and Leah must find the strength to not only fight, but survive. Not everyone will make it.

  The attack is only the beginning.

  Survive The Panic is book three in Nuclear Survival: Southern Grit, a post-apocalyptic thriller series following ordinary people struggling to survive after a nuclear attack on the Unites States plunges the nation into chaos.

  Subscribe to Harley’s newsletter and receive First Strike, the prequel to the Nuclear Survival saga, absolutely free.

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  Chapter One

  GRANT

  2078 Rose Valley Lane

  Smyrna, Georgia

  Sunday, 12:30 p.m.

  Black hair sticking up in all directions greeted Grant as he peered through the peephole of his front door. He opened the door and Oliver ducked past him before Grant could say hello.

  “I’ve got something you have to—” Oliver jerked to a stop as he spotted Leah. “Whoa. You look like shit.”

  With thick glasses, skinny jeans, and a habit of blurting out the obvious, Oliver had never been one of their close friends. The end of the world as Grant knew it changed more than the food and gas supply.

  He shut the door and locked it. “Leah, you know Oliver from the neighborhood, right?”

  His wife held out a hand with a smile. “I think we met last year at the Labor Day party.”

  Oliver shifted his messenger bag and shook her hand. “What happened to you?”

  She glanced at Grant as she touched the swollen skin beneath her stitches. “Everything from a car accident to a mean cat to a joy ride through a farm.”

  Grant swallowed. They hadn’t even had a chance to talk about what happened the past week. His wife had been through so much. He opened his mouth to say something, but Leah laughed and cut him off. “I’ll fill you in later, honey.”

  Oliver’s head swiveled as he looked first at Grant and then Leah. “I feel like I just walked into a sitcom and I missed the punchline.”

  “It’s been a rough few days.” Grant motioned to Oliver’s bag. “What’s so important?”

  Oliver fished out his laptop. “You need to see what I’ve found.”

  Grant ushered Oliver into the living room and they sat beside each other on the couch.

  As he popped open his laptop, Oliver explained. “As soon as I got back from the sporting goods store, I set up the solar panels and charged all the battery packs. I had enough energy to run my laptop for days.”

  “That can’t be why you’re here.”

  “It’s not.” Oliver’s fingers flew across the keyboard and screenshots of chat conversations opened up. “There wasn’t a cloud in the sky last night, so I stayed awake and set up my gear in the backyard. I managed to access the dark web via satellite connection around two in the morning.”

  Grant shifted. The dark web was where the hackers at the convention in Charlotte found out about the attacks. It was the whole reason he was outside the blast radius when the bombs went off. But there was more disinformation out there than facts. “Why not the regular news? There have to be places in the US that have power.”

  “What about the small newspapers? A television station in Alaska?” Leah eased into the overstuffed chair across from the couch and Faith, the little dog who’d adopted Grant and the now-defunct Cutlass, curled up in her lap.

  Grant wished more than anything to take his wife away from the impending chaos and keep her safe. But he knew she would never agree. Not when they had friends and neighbors who might need help.

  Oliver interrupted Grant’s spiraling thoughts. “I’ve tried to find news stations, but it’s a no-go. Most of the hosting companies are blown to bits. The ones that are still functional are so over capacity, nothing will load. I wasted half an hour giving it a try and my internet connection bogged down to a crawl.”

  Grant pinched the back of his neck. It was obvious once he gave it some thought. He’d already waved off any hope of a cell connection or major metro internet providers, but he’d forgotten about the servers themselves.

  Although on an ordinary day, anyone could fire up a computer and get on a website authored by someone halfway around the world, the servers that housed most of the web hosting were consolidated into a handful of areas. All of which were large metropolitan centers, most of which had been blown to smithereens.

  Oliver scooted forward and pulled up multiple windows on his computer. “The satellite connection is spotty at best and trying to pull up a news outlet when everyone else is doing the same thing was going to wreck any chance I had of finding information. So I pulled up a Tor browser and managed to get in a chat room where a bunch of hackers were discussing it.”

  Grant thought back to his conversation in Charlotte. Baker and Midge had warned him and it turned out they both told the truth. He couldn’t discount what Oliver discovered even if no one could verify the source.

  The dark web might be the only source of reliable information now. He leaned closer. “What did you find?”

  Oliver pushed his glasses up his nose. “According to a few different sources, a bomb did go off in Washington, DC. The president, most of his cabinet, the senate, house, you name it—all
presumed dead.”

  Leah gasped, and Grant flicked his eyes up to meet hers. Neither said a word, but the question was obvious: if everyone was dead, who was running the country?

  Oliver answered their thoughts. “An interim government has been set up at someplace called Fort Monroe.”

  Grant snorted. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Why? What is that place?”

  “I went there once on a high school field trip to DC years ago. It’s basically an island off the coast of Virginia. Think the American version of a castle, stone walls, moat all around it. Jefferson Davis was held there after the Union captured him in the Civil War.”

  Oliver brushed off the history lesson. “Well, whatever it used to be, it’s now the White House, Capitol, and everything else related to the federal government.”

  Grant ran a hand down his face. From what he remembered, the fort managed to stay in Union hands all through the Civil War, even with most of Virginia seceding. Today it sat across from Norfolk Navy Base. He could still remember standing on the beach at Fort Monroe and seeing the aircraft carriers in a line across the river.

  It was a better place than many to reconstitute the government of the United States. But would it matter? A bunker without communication with the outside world wouldn’t be much good to anyone.

  He leaned in to get a look at Oliver’s screen. Chats between various anonymous users filled the windows, all talking about the bombs and the government and what would happen next.

  “Who’s in charge?” Leah spoke up for the first time since Oliver broke the news. Grant could hear the fear in her voice.

  “No one knows. I’ve seen rumors that it’s CIA or FBI or some general in the army.”

  Grant raised an eyebrow. “Not an elected official?”

  “I don’t know.” Oliver pulled up another screen. “With all the major cities hit, the typical channels to gain information are gone. Everyone is scrambling to backdoor into the handful of smaller municipalities that are still accessible. But with the amount of consolidation that’s happened in the last few decades, it’s been almost impossible.”

  He leaned back on the couch. “Local police don’t even have their own criminal databases anymore. It’s all federal now. Without Washington operational, even the small towns are shut out of their usual sources of information.”

  Grant pointed at the screen. “So where are all these people you’ve been talking to? Every hacker I’ve ever met has lived in a big city.”

  Oliver cut him a glance. “Then you haven’t met the good ones. Guys who spend their days basically underground don’t live in the center of Manhattan. Besides, a lot of them are ex-pats. They don’t live in the US anymore.”

  He punched a few keys and pulled up another screen. “But this guy, he claims to live in Anchorage.”

  Grant leaned closer. A screenshot of a conversation with someone named Moose69 filled the computer screen. “I take it that Moose guy is your source?”

  Oliver nodded. “He got into the FBI server in Anchorage and has been poking around. Says it’s chaos. Eighty percent of their agents were killed in the attacks. The ones left are mostly junior agents on their first assignments in small towns or older guys pushing paper until retirement.”

  Grant frowned. “I get that talent would flock to the cities, but didn’t they have any warning? Didn’t they know? The attacks were all over the dark web hours beforehand. That’s why I left Charlotte. That’s how I knew to come home.”

  Oliver glanced at Grant. “If that’s true, then someone in the FBI had to know. They have an entire cyber security department. Next time I can connect, I’ll see if there’s any more information.”

  Leah cleared her throat. “Is anyone taking responsibility?”

  Oliver shook his head. “Not yet.”

  “Isn’t that strange?”

  “Very.”

  Grant’s wife tucked her legs up underneath her and Faith shifted to make room. The fluffy little thing looked so different clean and brushed than she did when Grant found her. But despite her show dog looks, Grant knew she was tough.

  He focused on her black toe pads and his frown deepened. Nothing about this sat right with him, and the more Oliver talked, the less comfortable Grant became. He shook his head. “Whenever terrorists strike they’re quick to come out and take responsibility. Why not now?”

  Oliver shrugged. “Maybe it wasn’t terrorists.”

  “What are you saying?” Leah shuddered in the chair and Faith let out a whimper. “We’re at war?”

  “It’s one possibility.”

  Grant frowned. “Whatever country was responsible would own it, too. Has anyone seen any uptick in ocean traffic? Are any naval ships deploying for us?”

  “Not that I’ve seen.”

  “There’s more going on here than we think. Nothing you’ve found adds up.”

  Oliver began to close his open windows. “At least we know it’s not aliens.”

  Grant snorted. “True.” He watched Oliver closed all the screenshots until a single name caught his eye. “Hold it.” He leaned in. MFly. “I know that name.”

  He struggled to remember. Was it the girl in Charlotte? The boy who discovered it all first? He couldn’t remember their handles. Hell, they probably changed them all the time.

  But he couldn’t shake the feeling he knew this one. He pointed at the name. “Next time you’re online, ping this one. I think I’ve met MFly before.”

  Oliver turned to look out the window, but plywood greeted him instead. He frowned. “You’re taking this whole ‘be prepared’ thing a little too seriously, you know?”

  Grant laughed. “You can never be too prepared.”

  Chapter Two

  LEAH

  2078 Rose Valley Lane

  Smyrna, Georgia

  Sunday, 2:00 p.m.

  Leah couldn’t stop the tremor in her hands. Half of what Grant and Oliver spoke about as they hunched over the laptop made no sense, but her husband’s knowledge of the web and all its hidden corners vastly exceeded her own.

  She smiled at her husband and excused herself from the room. Once upon a time, their house had been a comfortable place to live. Now it smelled like a construction site with boarded-up windows and lanterns for light.

  The second floor was the only place it still felt like home.

  Faith trotted after her as she climbed the stairs to the master bedroom. With afternoon light pouring in the bathroom window, Leah stopped in front of the mirror and took stock.

  The swelling around her wound improved by the hour. With multiple doses of Fish Mox in her system, the infection was clearing. No fluid oozed from the stitches and she could see the clear threads holding her scalp together.

  In a week or two, she would be able to cut the stitches and let the wound heal the rest of the way on its own. She leaned closer, squinting at her reflection. The gash would scar something fierce, but maybe in time, her hair would grow back to cover it.

  Leah ran a hand over her prickly scalp. Unfortunately, that would take some time. For months, she’d look either vaguely threatening or like a cancer patient on her deathbed, depending on the day. No one looked at a pale bald woman and thought positive thoughts.

  She exhaled and glanced down at the little dog sitting patiently by her feet. “Wherever did you come from?”

  Scooping her up into her arms, Leah smiled. Never had she thought they’d have a pet. Grant sneezed when he looked at a cat and Leah never had a dog growing up. They usually made her nervous.

  But not Faith. She rubbed the dog under her chin before setting her back on the ground. “We’re lucky to have you. All that fur is a welcome distraction from reality.”

  Walking out of the bathroom, Leah paused at the sliding glass door. She stared out at the broken and ruined skyline for a moment before sucking in a breath and opening the door. It slid back on the track with a groan and Leah stepped outside.

  From their vantage point northwest of downtow
n, they had always enjoyed one of the best views in Smyrna. Not anymore. Where high-rises and a burgeoning metropolis used to sit, nothing remained apart from a single skyscraper. It sat alone, a bite taken out of its side like Godzilla had wandered through with an empty stomach.

  How long before it collapsed? A matter of days, she figured. And then it would be like Atlanta never existed. The business district, the government buildings, all the inner workings of an entire state, gone in seconds.

  She wrapped her arms around her middle as she stared. If what Oliver said was true, what future did the United States have? Without a functioning federal government, would the military mobilize? Were there even enough servicemembers left to help the country keep the peace?

  Working her lower lip back and forth between her teeth, the reality of it all hit Leah full force. For the past week, she’d been on a mission to find Grant. That’s all she had thought about. Every time fears for the future crowded in, she had pushed them away.

  How could she think about the future when her husband was out there somewhere? Possibly dead or dying?

  It had taken all of her focus to make it to Hampton and then the last of her resolve to escape and drive home. Now that she was reunited with Grant, she could finally breathe and think and confront the terror head-on.

  They had to assume the national government was gone. That meant states, counties, and cities were the only sources of infrastructure left. With the capitol of Georgia being Atlanta, the prospects of their state having a working government were slim to none.