Weathering The Storm (Book 2): Surge Read online

  SURGE

  Weathering the Storm Series

  Book 2

  By

  Kenny Soward

  Mike Kraus

  © 2019 Muonic Press Inc

  www.muonic.com

  www.kennysoward.com

  [email protected]

  www.MikeKrausBooks.com

  [email protected]

  www.facebook.com/MikeKrausBooks

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, without the permission in writing from the author.

  Table of Contents

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  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

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  Special Thanks

  Special thanks to my awesome beta team, without whom this book wouldn’t be nearly as great. Thank you!

  WEATHERING THE STORM Book 3

  Available Here

  Preface

  Last time on Weathering the Storm…

  A series of hurricanes struck the Eastern Seaboard, devastating several major cities including Boston. After Jake survived a direct hit to his hotel by a tornado, he ventured out with another survivor, Marcy, to bring back help to the remaining survivors who had taken refuge on a sub-floor of the hotel. Outside, they witnessed the destruction of the tornado that had torn buildings to pieces, tossed cars into the flooded streets, and littered the landscape with dead bodies. As Jake and Marcy trudged through the demolished streets, they fought intense weather conditions and the first stages of human lawlessness until they were captured by a gang intent on making people work for them so they could take control of the city. Jake and Marcy struggled with their captors and escaped the gang, but not before Jake powered up a cellular tower and sent a text message with their location and the status of the gang’s remaining prisoners.

  In the meantime, Jake’s family was on their way to their cabin in the Tennessee mountains when they ran into a group of saboteurs. His wife, Sara, fought off the attackers, barely escaping with her life and the lives of her children. As the first signs of the eastern storms reached them, Sara drove her van through flooded mountain back roads to reach the cabin. The family settled in, and Sara and her oldest child, Todd, found out about the destruction of Boston, but were forced to put aside their emotions about Jake being missing and fortify their cabin against the severe storms battering the mountainside.

  And now, Weathering the Storm Book 2.

  Chapter 1

  Jake, Boston, Massachusetts | 6:43 a.m., Tuesday

  Marcy leaned on Jake with a whimper as he carried her through debris-strewn backyards with the wind and rain slamming into them from all sides. He’d been crouching down so Marcy could wrap her arm around his neck, and his entire body ached from the strain. Often, they had to navigate around entire sections of homes that had crumbled backwards or collapsed into one another as water worked its way deep into the ground, weakening the foundations until the buildings fell prey to the wind.

  They were heading southeast as far as Jake could tell, but he had no idea where they were going or what they would do when they got there. His only thought was to put as much distance between them and X-Gang, whose cars prowled the roadways wherever they could get through, as possible and then find a safe place to hide until he could better assess Marcy’s wounded leg.

  Lightning cracked across the sky in white-hot brilliance followed by rolling thunder that shook the ground.

  They’d been on the run for hours with nothing to eat or drink, because their packs—along with their food and water—were back at the X-Gang distribution warehouse. The only good news was he still had the AR-15 he’d taken from Luis, and it banged against his hip with a half-full magazine clip.

  “How are you doing?” He shouted the question at Marcy.

  “Not too bad, all things considered,” she replied, panting.

  “It’ll be light soon.” Jake glanced up just as another bolt of lightning cracked against the dark clouds above them. “For all that’s worth. We’ll want to find a good hiding spot so those gangbangers don’t find us.”

  “Someplace dry,” Marcy replied, sucking through her teeth in pain before adding, “with a big, comfy, king-sized bed.”

  “Only deluxe accommodations for Miss Marcy,” Jake scoffed in a good-natured way as he guided them around a pile of bricks and shingles. “Complimentary room service, too.”

  “Oh…that sounds…wonderful.” Marcy gasped the words, but Jake glanced down and saw the hint of a grin on her face.

  “Okay, enough joking around,” Jake said as they shuffled between two houses and moved onto the street. He swiveled his head in all directions, trying to decide which way to go.

  To the north, the houses and apartment buildings were damaged or collapsed, looking like a skyline of jagged, rotted teeth. To the south, many appeared to be intact and capable of keeping them safe and dry for a little while.

  “Let’s go this way,” Jake said, turning them to the right down a cracked sidewalk. Jake supported Marcy as they hobbled along past the junked cars and debris that littered the roadway. “At least the streets are too jammed with debris for Hawk and his chumps to come this way.”

  “Unless they decide to track us on foot,” Marcy said, slumping slightly. She’d been slowly losing strength over the hours they’d been on the run, and now she was so weak that all she could do was cling to his neck in desperation.

  “Hey, you can’t give up on me now,” Jake said as worry swelled in his gut. “Just a few more feet and we’ll be inside one of those houses.”

  “I’ll try,” Marcy murmured tiredly, though she made no sign of trying harder. If anything, she slumped even more.

  “I’m serious.” Jake’s voice rose in anger as he jerked her upright. “Straighten up and get with the program, lady. We’ve got a few more feet to go and we’ll be safe.”

  Marcy grunted and lifted herself on her good leg. She was still leaning hard on Jake, but at least she was upright and more mobile.

  “Good job,” Jake encouraged. “One of these houses over here is bound to be safe to hole up in for a while. Just stay with me. Ten minutes, tops.”

  “Okay,” Marcy said. She sounded like a person who was too tired to recognize her own name.

  Jake clenched his jaw and then steered them left up another street that was on a slight incline, not making it any easier on them. Jake had his sights set on a big yellow apartment house on the corner. The siding was blown off, but the steps leading up to all three levels was facing away from the street
and had not been blown away by the storm. They should be able to get to all the entrances and check for occupancy. If they met any unfriendly people, Jake and Marcy would move along to the next apartment, and he wouldn’t rule out using his AR-15 to defend them if it came down to it.

  By the time they reached the end of the street, they were both breathing heavily, and Jake’s legs felt like rubber. Still, he wanted to circle the house once to check for any lights or people before trying the entrances. They reached the corner where the street curved to the right, and Jake guided Marcy around the front of the house, his eyes peering at the lower windows before moving to the ones higher up.

  All the windows were covered, and there was no movement or light as far as he could tell. Of course, anyone inside would be laying low as they waited out the storm, so he shouldn’t have expected to see any tell-tale signs of life.

  Lightning lit up the sky once more, and after the thunder, Jake tilted his head as a distant and familiar sound sent a chill up his spine. In hindsight, the sound had been there for a while, hiding beneath the wind and rain and thunder. But it stood out clearly and unmistakably at that moment, that freight-train nightmare of sound that haunted him.

  “Jake,” Marcy said, tugging on his neck. “Look.”

  Jake turned them around, and they staggered across the street to the opposite sidewalk. From their new vantage point, they had a perfect view of a high school baseball field and the houses and bay beyond that to the east.

  At first Jake could see nothing in the near total darkness, then the sky lit up with a string of lightning strikes, revealing the monstrous funnel of a tornado just offshore. It wore an angry crown of dark clouds that spun downward as it tossed specks of debris high into the air in slow motion.

  The lightning died, and the sky went dark once more.

  “Let’s just hope it doesn’t head this way,” Jake said sourly. “Come on, let’s get inside.”

  “That’s not our only problem,” Marcy said, and Jake noticed she’d let go of his neck and stood on her own two feet, barely. She looked down across the baseball field, although it was far too dark to make anything out. He could barely see the outline of the base paths, and that was only because the lightning had imprinted the image in his mind.

  “Did you see someone from X-Gang down there?” Jake asked excitedly, looking back and forth between Marcy and the field. “Was it one of them?”

  “No,” Marcy said. Her breathing was growing more rapid, and she reached out to clutch his arm. “Just watch and wait for the lightning. I’m not sure what it was. I mean, I could have just been seeing things.”

  Jake squared around to the baseball field and craned his neck forward as his eyes tried to penetrate the darkness. A second later, the lightning came, and Jake’s heart leaped into his throat when he saw the surge of brackish water rushing across the baseball field toward them before the light blinked out.

  “What the…” Jake trailed off as his brain tried to make sense of what he’d seen, but then a dawning realization hit him, and his voice rose to a fevered tone. “That’s a tidal wave, Marcy. We’ve got to go.”

  Adrenaline surged through Jake’s veins like wildfire, and he clutched Marcy around the waist and swung her toward the house. They quickly hobbled across the street as the sound of the rushing water grew impossibly loud and urgent. And then the wave hit the side of the hill with a crash, sending Jake’s heart rate skyrocketing.

  He tried to lift Marcy off the ground and carry her, however, his arm slipped off her waist, so he grabbed her hand and dragged her across to the side yard of the house. Marcy got her legs under her, primal instinct driving her body as she cried out in pain.

  Jake led them to the porch of the house he’d originally wanted to explore and leapt up the three steps to the deck in one try. Marcy slipped on the slick wood as Jake lifted her by the hand and held her upright. He turned just as a two-foot wave of water smashed into the porch and sprayed up into their faces. Jake crashed to the deck, Marcy falling on top of him as the force of the water shoved them across the porch toward the opposite rail.

  Expecting the rail to hold them, Jake wrapped both arms around Marcy so she wouldn’t hit her head on the wood. Instead, the force of the water was so great that it threw them through the rail, snapping it like matchsticks and washing them out into the yard.

  Suffocating saltwater forced its way into his mouth. Jake sputtered and spat, gasping as he tried to breathe while keeping Marcy above the water. The wave spun them around and pushed them as if they were on a slip-n-slide. Jake bashed his shoulder against something hard, causing Marcy to fly from his arms, screaming and wailing as she swam, crawled, and grabbed for Jake.

  “Marc—” he tried to say before getting a mouthful of saltwater right down his windpipe. He tried to cough, and at the same time he rolled head over heels, unable to tell the difference between up or down. The water kept coming, flowing over them like a cold, wet blanket and sweeping his rifle away.

  Jake caught a glimpse of Marcy’s face, terrified and gasping in the foaming waves. Her glasses were askew on her face, smeared with mud and water. He quickly spun right onto his stomach, diving for her blindly with his left hand. He caught hold of what he thought was her arm and gripped it hard, not caring whether it hurt her.

  He slammed his other hand on the ground and lifted himself to get his bearings, eyes flying open as he went head-first into the porch steps of the next house over. Stars exploded in Jake’s head as he collapsed onto his chest, but he held onto Marcy’s wrist, focused on staying lucid and alive. Dazed, his chest rattling in an effort to expel the saltwater, Jake rose to his hands and knees and threw one elbow on the next step up to anchor himself. Then he lifted himself up, twisting onto his back as he dragged Marcy out of the current so that she fell face down across his lap.

  She wasn’t crying out or gasping for air. She wasn’t moving at all.

  Throwing his arm over her, he kicked with his legs and pushed up to the third step. Then he kicked once more until his rear end was firmly planted on the porch deck. The water was rising swiftly, but it had lost much of its brutal force.

  “Marcy.” Jake coughed the word as he lay her down on the deck and slapped her cheek none too gently. “Wake up.”

  Glasses hanging by the shoestrings around her neck, Marcy responded by rolling onto her left side and coughing up a mouthful of saltwater. She brought her knees to her chest and groaned as she tried to clear her lungs. Unfortunately, there was no time to let her do even that. The water was already coming up over the porch and would soon be over their heads.

  Jake scrambled to his feet, bent down, and grabbed a handful of her hoodie in each hand. With a deep-chested growl, Jake lifted Marcy off the ground and carried her to the next flight of stairs like a sack of potatoes. Then he dropped her on the stairs, drawing a pained and angry cry from the woman.

  “Come on,” Jake said, grabbing her hoodie again.

  Marcy suddenly went berserk, swinging and flailing at Jake with her fists while she cursed incoherently. Jake absorbed the blows against his chest and used her momentum to shove her further up the stairs where she went hard to her knees. Jake staggered the next couple of steps and pulled Marcy to her feet one last time.

  Their eyes met briefly, and Jake saw her senses returning, along with that fierce determination he’d gotten used to. They put their arms around each other and turned up the next short flight of stairs to the second floor where they collapsed against the rail and watched the flood waters swell ten feet below them.

  Jake watched the waters spread into the next yard and beyond, then he shifted his eyes to Marcy. The woman was curled up against the rail, looking between the slats.

  “Do you think it will reach us?” Her words came out raspy and weak.

  “I don’t think so,” Jake said, “but we should probably get up to the third floor just in case.”

  Marcy nodded faintly and then turned to meet Jake’s stare. She blinked wearily a
nd then gave Jake a sideways grin. “Sorry I punched you down there.”

  “It’s okay.” Jake chuckled and then climbed warily to his feet. “Come on, lady. One more flight to your deluxe suite.”

  Chapter 2

  Sara, Gatlinburg, Tennessee | 7:30 a.m., Tuesday

  “Tell me this is a good idea.” Sara stood on the front porch of the cabin, looking out into the rainswept yard as a feeling of dread tapped piano notes up her spine. The small sprinkle of rain that had fallen over the past few days had turned into big, fat drops, and the wind was restless once more.

  “I’m not changing my opinion.” Todd stood with his hands on his hips and made a wincing face at the intensifying weather. “It’s a bad idea. But the big storm won’t be here until late afternoon, so you’ve got about eight hours to play around before you need to get back up here.”

  “I won’t be playing around,” Sara said with a stern look. “It’s important exploration. And eight hours is plenty of time for me to have a look around and get home.” Sara nodded assuredly and adjusted the light pack on her shoulders. She carried a few snacks, a utility knife, and some rope. Her 9mm Beretta was in its holster, clipped to her belt just behind her right hip, and her hunting knife was clipped to her belt on the opposite side but a little forward with the seven-inch blade angled back.

  “Just be careful, Mom,” Todd said, turning to her.

  “I will,” Sara replied. “You’ve got your radio, right?”

  “Right here.” Todd held up his two-way radio so she could see. “Tuned to channel seven.”

  “I’ve got mine in my pocket,” Sara said. “I’ll check in every fifteen minutes or so, or if I find something interesting.”

  “Sounds good, Mom.”