Dystopia (Book 4): The Dark Days Read online

  Dystopia

  The Dark Days

  By: DJ Cooper

  Works by the Author

  The Dystopia Series

  Dystopia : Beginning of the End [Book 1 ]

  Dystopia : The Long Road [Book 2 ]

  Dystopia: Revelations [Book 3 ]

  Dystopia: The Dark Days [Book 4 ]

  [Book 5] (coming 2019)

  The New Prepper Overload (an interactive binder)

  Nine Meals from Anarchy Series

  The Fury of the Sun (coming 2018)

  Dystopia

  The Dark Days

  By: DJ Cooper

  Copyright © 2018 DJ Cooper

  Angry Eagle Publishing

  A subsidiary of Angry Eagle Productions

  Epsom, NH 03234

  http://angryeagleproductions.com

  All rights reserved

  ISBN 978-7326212-1-3

  Copyright © All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this document may be reproduced, stored, transmitted by any means, for profit or gain, without the expressed permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This is a work of fiction. No techniques are recommended without proper safety measures and training. The author nor publisher assumes no liability for your actions.

  Acknowledgements

  There are quite a few people I would like to thank for their support and encouragement while I was writing this next novel and some I am simply thankful to have in my life.

  I’d like to thank many friends and family who read and re-read portions of this over and over again helping me to iron out some kinks.

  For Rachel Jodoin a fantastic member of the editorial team along with Michelle Jodoin both of whom are likely the fastest readers I’ve ever met. Jamie Pridham for her exquisite cover designs and tolerating my constant need for revision.

  For my children Chris and Jamie, all their support and encouragement when mommy couldn’t seem to get a word on the page, for keeping me going; never failing in their love and care, truly one of God’s greatest blessings, I’m so blessed and thankful for both of them.

  Table of contents

  Acknowledgements

  The Reset

  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

  Epilogue

  Note from the Author

  Resources

  More from DJ Cooper

  Composting

  Rain Water

  Solar Hot Water

  Wood Fired Hot Water

  Solar Panels

  Batteries

  Solar Window Heaters

  Morse Code

  Bug out bags aka the BOB

  A.N.T.S

  Cache

  Canning and preserving

  Dakota pit or fire hole

  Ham Radios

  Lye Soap

  Videos

  NBC (Nuclear, Biological, Chemical) protection

  Free Downloadable files

  About the Author

  Our World

  Dystopia

  The Dark Days

  By: DJ Cooper

  The Reset

  In the days following the reset, chaos ruled, and the world was a different place. Many, remembering how their lives had changed reflected upon the ways this new life would evolve. In only a few short months, there were cities gone mad, countrysides burned, and the dark days had begun.

  Before this chaos… Destiny along with her small group of family and friends could see, resting upon the horizon, a cloud of uncertainty. The Ebola virus had entered the U.S. and kicked off this era of anarchy. Ebola, a deadly hemorrhagic fever, was released on American soil. It was supposed to be contained, but was used as a cover for a much more sinister act against the American people…and indeed the world

  During this time of panic, the banks closed and never reopened. What was supposed to be a short banking holiday, was instituted to help correct the financial meltdown. Little did they know its true nature was to keep the public in line. Forcing citizens to seek help and safety in the camps set up by FEMA. The real event turned out to be a complete implosion of the financial system. Our fiat money had reached its pinnacle and was crashing. In the confusion of these things, there was an attack on the major substations across the electric grid; effectively ending life as they knew it.

  Without amenities of grocery stores and electricity, all the things that they were so accustomed to in life were gone. The small community would now need to learn how to build a new way of life.

  The arrival of friends from the northern states to their hundred-fifty-acre farm in southeastern Kentucky, brought not only joy…but death. Unbeknownst to them, what followed that group was a new threat, one that was set upon the destruction of these survivors. That first battle came within a day. Unprepared for such an attack, they fought desperately. They stood alone against those who would see anarchy reign in the new world.

  Destiny, the group’s matriarch and leader was shot; hurried off to town, with fears for her life and that of the community became a heavy weight in the minds of the people. Matt had done the unthinkable and his loyalty now lay in question. There is a new threat; Morgan, one who would stop at nothing to end this cohesive group and destroy Destiny.

  There are many people living on the farm now, each working towards the protection and sustainability of the community. It’s survival, now paramount… lay ahead.

  Chapter 1

  “Dark days loom ominous”

  “We are fast approaching the stage of the ultimate inversion: the stage where the government is free to do anything it pleases, while the citizens may act only by permission; which is the stage of the darkest periods of human history, the stage of rule by brute force.”

  -Ayn Rand

  Racing down the dirt road to town, Dickie sat shotgun. Jeremy and Charleigh sat silently in the back of the jeep. Dust and pebbles flying into the air, with every turn that Ryan made. The cloud of dust in the wake of the speeding vehicle could be seen through the cut in the tree line. They were worried about the condition of those sent to the infirmary.

  No one knew if Dez was even alive. Dickie sat staring off into the trees worrying about his newborn daughter. Even as they made for town, the fate of those left at the farm was, as yet, uncertain. Though the battle was brief each knew it would not be the last. Morgan would not give up so easily and her treachery was without bounds.

  She had a vendetta after being exiled, and now with Matt’s loyalty in question much was unclear. Dickie sat, blankly staring off into the woods along the roadside. Wondering if Matt intentionally shot at those within their own group, or… if it was indeed just an accident. Jeremy’s face was pure anger, while Charleigh’s was sheer worry. She worried for her four-year-old daughter, who was also at the infirmary along with the other young children. This little ball of fire, though small for her age, was a joy in a world that seemed void of such things.

  Each of them sat watching out their own sides of the Jeep wrapped up in their own thoughts. Thoughts that were so clearly etched in th
eir facial expressions as they silently sat through the bumpy dirt road into town.

  Arriving at the infirmary Dickie leaped from the Jeep before it even stopped. Sprinting into the building he found a nurse, and anxiously he asked. “How is she?”

  “To whom do you refer?” Replied the nurse.

  Standing back slightly as if in disbelief that she didn’t know. “My daughter, the newborn brought here yesterday.”

  Much to his relief, he sighed as the nurse said, “Oh, yes. She’ll be fine. Although, she’ll still have to spend some time here growing stronger.” Abruptly turning to the rest of them. “Are you here about the wounded from last night?”

  Jeremy stepped closer. “Yes, how is Destiny Walters?”

  A confused look came across the face of the nurse and then one of understanding. Her look softened and she replied, “You mean Dez?”

  Not accustomed to the informal nature in a medical facility Jeremy nodded in affirmation. She continued, “Dez is in surgery. There is no word yet on her condition, but I’ll let you know as soon as we know anything.”

  Ushered into the area adjacent to the rooms used for the nursery they quickly found Dickie’s newborn daughter and the other children. She was unusually fussy and had an IV for fluids. She was cozy and warm in an incubator, but the nurses were having a tough time getting her to eat. Dickie’s look softened as he gazed upon his child. Addressing the staff, he explained that she’d been held very close during the trip and suggested that maybe she was uncomfortable without the human touch.

  Choking back tears as he went on to explain. “Her mother was an insulin dependent diabetic and died in childbirth a few weeks ago.”

  The nurse nodded in understanding. “That definitely helps us understand things a little better. She’s probably been producing insulin for her mother while inside the womb. It’ll take some time for her little body to adapt from this symbiotic relationship between the mother and baby.”

  Dickie was a tall man with a few extra pounds and a scruffy beard, making him look intimidating. At that moment he looked smaller, two tears trickled down his face as he stood looking down at his newborn daughter. Interrupting his thoughts, the nurse said, “She will have to be forced to take special formula; even just a little, until she adjusts.”

  They did find some formula along the trip, but it was inconsistent and made her gassy with a temperamental stomach. Charleigh, sat with her own daughter; and hearing what was being said, she volunteered to take care of feeding the baby. Walking over to the small infant swaddled in a nursing blanket, she cooed at her, gently picking her up. The tiny infant immediately began to quiet. Offering her the bottle of formula she readily rooted looking for the nipple. Smiling, the nurse commented, “She must have just needed a little familiar comforting.” Turning to Dickie she placed a comforting hand on his arm and said, “The doctors feel optimistic about her chances despite all the adversity. Not to worry, she’s going to be fine.”

  They sat quietly in the makeshift waiting room, hoping for word on Dez. Jeremy however, could not stop pacing. Sitting one moment, then standing as if jolted with lightening, and he would begin pacing again.

  Dickie asked in his unique British accent. “Ants in ya pants?” Giving it an almost comical sound.

  “I’m gonna kill that bitch myself.”

  Dickie nodded slapping him on the back. “You’ll have to take a number mate.”

  Jeremy abruptly stopped and looked at him, “Do you think Matt did it on purpose?”

  “Dunno, but what I do know is there’s a lot of things that aren’t feeling right.”

  Jeremy’s look changed to one of confusion. “I can’t believe he would have anything to do with that skank.”

  Dickie looked at him hard. “Whoever the spy is at the farm, I’ll make em pay. On the trip here, we didn’t do away with Morgan after she killed her husband. Let’s not forget what they did to Rita? I won’t make the same mistake twice.” Taking a moment to shake off the images of the road. He stood rigid, palms against the wall, looking down in silent resolution of his determination to flush out this traitor.

  Jeremy realized they’d forgotten. “That’s right, Rita! She’s here. Where is she?”

  “I think she’s still here, I wonder where Ryan got to. We could ask him.”

  Jeremy asked, “You traveled with her. What’s up with her coming here?”

  “She had to come, Matty’s mom and all. We couldn’t just take Matty and leave her there.”

  Jeremy nodded. “I guess, but my mom ain’t gonna like it.”

  Dickie just pursed his lips. “She’s actually not that bad. At first, she was a little adversarial, but after a bit she made a right good cuppa tea.” Thumbing over his shoulder towards what looked like the nurse’s area. “I’ll go have a gander at where she might be off to.”

  Dickie looked back and forth trying to figure out where the staff may have landed. The small waiting area of the once obscure Urgent Care was dimly lit from the lack of juice coming out of the strained generators. Behind a small counter he spotted a nurse, Rose, and sauntered over to ask her about Rita. Approaching the nurse, he saw she was talking to a man dressed in camo. Pausing to look back to Jeremy, he shrugged his shoulders. Pointing his thumb toward the man and tilting his head in some silent question. Waiting for a response from Jeremy, who quickly shook his head negative and shooed him with his hand over to find out about Rita.

  Dickie turned, smiled and said, “Excuse me, sweetheart?” Putting on his best English Accent, brushing his hair back from his face.

  Looking at him raising an eyebrow, she replied in a flat tone. “I heard you talking and yes she is here. She is being treated for some injuries and you’ll be allowed to see her shortly.”

  Nodding he said, "Cheers love.”

  As he walked back, the man in camouflage followed and approached them. Reaching out to shake hands. “Are you friends of Rita?”

  Dickie responded, “Yes, we thought her dead. You know her?”

  The man put his hand out to Dickie, saying, “I’m her husband, my name is Rich Davidson.”

  Shocked, Dickie stood, mouth agape. Looking at the man he asked, “Husband?”

  The man stammered, “Yes, it’s a long story and one I’ll leave up to her to tell you.”

  Shaking Rich’s hand, and waving with his other, he motioned an invitation to join them in the waiting area. Dickie ushered Rich over to meet Jeremy, who was curiously looking to them for answers to yet another silent question.

  Rich was a tall man even taller than Jeremy, whom himself, was just over six feet. His camo clothes were definitely military issue. His mannerisms and overall look were one of military training. Sitting down he introduced himself to Jeremy, “Hi, Rich Davidson are you also waiting to see Rita?”

  “Yes, I am but I’m really waiting to find out if my mom is ok.”

  “Did she get hurt?”

  “She was shot.”

  Rich, raising his eyebrows asked, “What happened? I hope she’s going to be ok.”

  Jeremy began, “Not long after the arrival of the others from the north, we were attacked. A group of raiders. At least we think they’re raiders. They attacked the night after their arrival, surrounding us on both sides of the ridge.”

  “Wow,” was all that Rich said.

  “Morgan was with them. I know you don’t know who she is but…”

  Rich interrupted him, “Morgan? She’s the one that tried to kill Rita.”

  “Really? It was Morgan, who shot my mom. She somehow knows Matt, who is coincidentally Rita’s ex-husband and her son Matty’s father.”

  Nodding in a knowing manner, Rich said, “Rita told me that Matt was involved with her even before they got divorced.”

  “Well, he shot John’s wife Amy; to save Morgan it seems.”

  Rich stood exclaiming in confusion, “Amy? I heard that name from Rita; her son was with some folks named John and Amy. It seems Morgan who also shot your mom and this guy Ma
tt are bad news. How is she connected to them?”

  Jeremy sat silently, nodding in affirmation. Standing he looked at Rich saying, “We don’t know why she shot my mom or why Matt would shoot Amy to protect her. That’s what we’re trying to find out.”

  Dickie was already pacing in anger and stopped. The news began to sink in as he stopped shaking his head. “If I find out Matt had anything to do with Dez being shot, it is going to get ugly.”

  Rich looked shocked, nearly shouting. “Wait, Dez was shot too?”

  Jeremy looked up, realizing Rich didn’t know who he was and said, “Dez is my mom.”

  A knowing expression came across his face as he nodded in understanding. Jeremy suspiciously eyeballed him, like there was something he wanted to know. Dickie saw the look and asked Rich if he was in the military.

  Rich said, “I was attached to a unit assigned to a refugee camp outside of Osceola Mills, Pennsylvania.”

  Dickie was nodding as he listened. Continuing, Rich said, “We’ve learned much in all this. I’ve been waiting to meet with your militia leader Ryan. Most of my detachment couldn’t obey the government mandates and orders that were coming in. Clearly violating the constitution, we all knew it was time to make a change.”

  Dickie looked hard at him, saying, “Let’s say you explain how you ended up here and with Rita.”

  Rich fidgeting with his fingers, and nervous, looked from one to the other. “Rita staggered into our camp, she was badly hurt, and half drown. Her hair didn’t even grow back where the gash on her head was. At first, she had no memory of how she even got into the river. She was in the infirmary for two weeks before she was well enough to even stay awake for more than brief time periods. I had no idea they saw her any different than the next refugee, but that changed quickly. I think the only reason they even bothered treating her was that they wanted information.”