Doomsday Protocol - a post apoc adventure

By C Lowry

End of the world.

And it went like flicking a light switch.

If there were bangs and whimpers, they were somewhere else.

Jack survived.

So did his family.

He thinks.

He hopes.

And he will do whatever it takes to stay alive and find them.

For Fans of action packed post apoc adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Grand Ozarks Media
• Release date: Aug 30, 2024
• ISBN: 9798330385133

Book preview

Chris Lowry

Doomsday Protocol a post apoc adventure thriller

Copyright © 2024 by Chris Lowry

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

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Contents

1. Doomsday Protocol

2. CHAPTER 2

3. CHAPTER 3

4. CHAPTER 4

5. CHAPTER 5

6. CHAPTER 6

7. CHAPTER 7

8. CHAPTER 8

9. CHAPTER 9

10. CHAPTER 10

11. CHAPTER 11

12. CHAPTER 12

13. CHAPTER 13

14. CHAPTER 14

15. CHAPTER 15

16. CHAPTER 16

17. CHAPTER 17

18. CHAPTER 18

19. CHAPTER 19

20. CHAPTER 20

21. CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

1

Doomsday Protocol

The morning sun cut through the heavy fog that clung to the trees like cobwebs.

I stepped out of the crumbling farmhouse, each breath heavy in my chest. The world was quieter now, the hum of power lines and the distant drone of engines replaced by an eerie stillness that had settled in the weeks since the EMP hit.

I had grown used to the silence, but that didn’t make it any less unsettling.

My boots crunched on the frost-covered grass as I made my way to the old barn where I’d hidden the few supplies I had managed to scrounge together.

The place smelled of decay and damp straw, a far cry from the vibrant farm it once was.

I remembered when the barn had been filled with hay bales, the cows mooing contentedly in their stalls, the hum of the milking machines working away.

Now, it was just another relic of a world gone by, as dead and empty as everything else.

I opened the rusty latch on the barn door and stepped inside.

The darkness swallowed me whole until my eyes adjusted. My fingers brushed against the rough wood of the shelves as I searched for the old canvas bag I kept tucked away in the corner. I found it, covered in dust but still intact, and slung it over my shoulder.

Water had become the most precious resource, more valuable than food or shelter. There was only so much you could scavenge, and with the nearby streams running dry, my options were shrinking. The last cache I found had been half-buried under debris in an abandoned gas station. Now, it was all gone.

My family—Sarah and the kids—were depending on me. Sarah, who had taken on the role of protector for the little ones, did everything she could to keep them calm and distracted, but I knew the strain was wearing on her. There was only so much reassurance you could offer in a world where everything had fallen apart. Our son, Tyler, was just old enough to understand how bad things were, and it broke my heart every time I saw the fear in his eyes. Maddie, our youngest, didn’t quite grasp the severity of our situation yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time before she, too, realized how desperate things had become.

I tightened my grip on the bag, steeling myself for the trek ahead. If there was any chance of finding water, it would be at the old creek that wound through the woods to the east. I hadn’t been there since before the EMP, but it was my best shot. There had been talk among the few remaining survivors in the area that some springs were still flowing, but most had dried up or been contaminated by debris from the collapsing infrastructure.

The walk to the creek was long and quiet, the only sound being the occasional rustling of leaves or the distant caw of a crow. The sky was a patchwork of grays and blues, the sun barely peeking through the clouds as if afraid to shine too brightly on the ruined world below. My hands were already cold, and I clenched them into fists to keep them warm as I trudged through the underbrush.

Every step felt heavier than the last as the hours passed. The trees seemed to close in around me, their branches twisting into gnarled fingers that clawed at the sky. I knew these woods like the back of my hand, but now they felt foreign, as if I had wandered into some forgotten land where the rules of the old world no longer applied.

Finally, I reached the edge of the creek. My heart sank as I saw the state of it. The water was barely a trickle, a thin, muddy stream that wound through the dried-out bed like a dying snake. I crouched down, dipping my hand into the cold water. It was murky and filled with debris, but it was water nonetheless. My throat tightened as I realized this might be all that was left.

I filled a small flask from my bag, watching the water as it swirled inside. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do for now. I could try to filter it later, but even that was a gamble. The thought of Sarah and the kids trying to drink this sludge made my stomach turn, but I had no other choice.

As I stood up, a noise caught my attention. It was faint, almost lost in the rustle of the trees, but it was there—a low, rumbling growl. My heart raced as I scanned the woods around me, my hand instinctively reaching for the knife at my belt. I hadn’t seen any large predators since the EMP, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there. Desperation drove even the wild animals closer to what little water remained, and they were just as hungry as we were.

The growl came again, louder this time, and I turned toward the sound. My eyes locked onto a pair of glowing, amber eyes peering out from the shadows of the trees. A wolf. Thin and ragged, its fur matted and dirty, it looked like it had been through as much hell as I had. But that didn’t make it any less dangerous.

Slowly, I backed away, trying to make myself as small as possible. I knew better than to run. Running only made you prey. The wolf watched me, its eyes never leaving mine, but it didn’t move. I could feel the tension in the air, a tightrope stretched between us, ready to snap at any moment.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the wolf turned and slunk back into the trees. I didn’t breathe until it was out of sight. My hands were shaking as I stuffed the flask back into my bag and turned to head home.

The walk back was a blur, my mind racing with thoughts of the wolf, the water, and the impossible decisions I would have to make. I kept my knife in my hand the entire way, my senses on high alert. Every rustle of the wind, every snap of a twig, made me jump.

When I finally emerged from the woods, the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the farmhouse. The sight of it brought a wave of relief, but it was short-lived. I knew what was waiting inside—Sarah’s hopeful eyes, Tyler’s unspoken questions, and Maddie’s innocent smile, unaware of the grim reality we were facing.

I opened the door to find them huddled around a small fire, the warmth of it barely enough to keep the chill at bay. Sarah looked up as I entered, her eyes searching mine for any sign of good news. I forced a smile and held up the flask.

It’s not much, I said, trying to keep my voice steady. But it’s something.

She nodded, her face a mix of relief and worry. We’ll make it work.

I handed her the flask, and she carefully poured a small amount into a tin cup, handing it to Tyler. He took it with both hands, his eyes wide as he sipped the murky water. He didn’t complain, but I could see the disgust on his face. Maddie watched, her eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of fear.

I sat down beside them, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on me. The fire crackled softly, the only sound in the silence that had settled over us. I wanted to tell them it would be okay, that we would find more water, that things would get better. But the words caught in my throat, choked by the knowledge that I didn’t believe them myself.

All I could do was sit there, holding Sarah’s hand as we stared into the fire, the weight of the world pressing down on us. The water I’d brought back might keep us going for another day, maybe two, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough. Not for long.

In the back of my mind, the image of the wolf’s glowing eyes lingered, a reminder that we were all just animals now, fighting to survive in a world that had turned against us.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against Sarah’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of the fire on my face. Tomorrow, I would go back out. Tomorrow, I would find more water.

I had to.

2

CHAPTER 2

I stared at the generator like it was an old enemy.

It sat there, stubborn, silent, and useless, the casing dented from years of rough handling, dust clinging to every surface like it had given up, too.

My hands were already grimy from the last attempt to