Preppers of the Apocalypse - Part 1: Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Read Online Free PDF Page A

need the nuclear rods to meltdown because that turns hot water into
stream, which then triggers the turbines and makes us a fresh batch of
electricity. The rods are kept from reaching dangerous meltdown levels by cold
water flow controlled by pumps. And guess what powers the pumps?”
     
    Kenny
stopped pacing.
     
    “Electricity.”
     
    “Correct,”
said Greeb.
     
    “So
what happens if the rods aren’t cooled?”
     
    “The
plant goes into full meltdown, and anyone in the surrounding areas dies of
radioactive poisoning.”
     
    Kenny
folded his arms. He stared out at everyone in the room. He stood tall with his
shoulders straight, and Ash could tell that this was a man who was scared of
nobody.
     
    “We
need to go check out the plant,” he said. “I’m not giving up Pasture lightly,
but I’m not waiting here for some toxic wind to blow my way. We gotta know for
sure if they managed to cool down the plant or not.”
     
    There
were some murmurings in the room, and a lot of the forty men and women in the
room turned to the partners with worried faces. They started to chatter amongst
each other, but Ash couldn’t pick out any of the words.
     
    Kenny
stomped his feet. The echoed of his boots silenced the room.
     
    “We
got any volunteers?” he said. “Anyone who wants to do this fine town a
service?”
     
    Ash
decided it was time he left. Maybe with everyone here, in the town hall, a car
might be left unguarded. He could get in it, start driving and get home by
morning.
     
    No, he
thought. I can’t do that. I can’t steal from them again. I’ve already taken
enough.
     
    He
walked out of the shadows and to the back door of the hall. As he opened it a
ray of sunlight crept in. As he went to step through the door he tripped and
fell into it, and the noise of his fall made every person in the room turn
around to see him.
     
    “Mr.
Hobbes,” said Kenny from the front of the room. “Everyone’s favourite salesman.
Glad you could join us.”
     
    The
stares of the people in the hall were so angry that they smouldered, and Ash
worried they made the room a fire risk. He had no doubt in his mind that most
of them would love to tear him to pieces. He looked at the door and the
sunlight beyond it and thought about running away, but where would he go?
     
    “Grab
hold of him,” said Kenny.
     
    Footsteps
echoed across the wooden floor of the hall, and then seconds later he felt arms
take hold of his shoulders and pull him back.

 
     
    Chapter 4
     
    Ash
tried to shrug away from the grip on his shoulders, but when he turned he saw
that the man holding him had two feet in height and an inch of muscle on him.
Ash stopped struggling. At the end of the room, Kenny jumped off the stage and
landed on the floor. He walked across the hall with the thud of his tan hide
cowboy boots echoing against the walls.
     
    Everyone
in the hall stared at him now. There didn’t look to be a single sympathetic
face among them, and Ash wished he was far away. He wished that he’d never even
heard of Pasture Down, that he’d never gotten into his car and begun a lonely
journey that had taken him to a place hundreds of miles away from home and had
left him stranded there.
     
    “Listen,”
he said as Kenny approached him. “I just want to leave this place and go home.
My car’s dead, and I need to get back to my wife.”
     
    “Your
car isn’t going anywhere again,” said a voice across the hall. It was Greeb,
the man who sounded like a scientist but looked like he lived in a trailer. “I
saw your motor. Pretty fancy.”
     
    “Unfortunately
it’s part of a trend in cars that started back when glam-rock and mullets were
popular. Too many vehicles these days rely on engine management computers.
That’s good when things are normal, but it means that whatever fried the power
did the same to the electronics in your shiny car.”
     
    “In
any case,” said Kenny, who looked bored of the conversation, “I don’t give