Post-apocalyptic fiction by Sean Liscom.

Jason Sterling had a simple life by all accounts. He had worked the same job his entire adult life, he had never married and he had no children. He was used to doing things on his own. His comfortable life was shaken to the core the day he learned of his fathers death. It was a mysterious meeting that set life altering events in motion and the allure of a new life was too great to walk away from. When an electromagnetic pulse brings the modern world to its knees, Jason's choice proves to be the right one.

Excerpt:

“Shut up!” one of the men who’d pulled him from the house barked and kicked him in the stump that was once his leg. Ira released a wail of pain, both of his hands shot to his destroyed leg.

“Leave him alone!” I yelled. The man turned toward me and walked over. He knelt in front of me and put his face uncomfortably close to mine.

“You wanna join him? I can arrange it!” he growled in my face. His rancid breath was nearly enough to make me gag.

“You wanna take these cuffs off and have a go at it?” I sneered. Without warning, he grabbed the shoulder strap of my body armor and threw me to the ground. I rolled to my back and looked up at him. I could see the rage boiling behind his eyes. “I guess you only mess with one legged men and handcuffed girls. What’s the matter? Can’t take someone in a fair fight?"

He unsheathed the large bowie knife from its place on his belt and took a step closer. I drew my knees up like I was going to try and push myself away. In reality, I was setting myself up to deliver one hell of a kick to this dude’s nuts. He was suddenly distracted and stopped his approach, his whole demeanor changed in a flash. I twisted my head to try and see what he was looking at. It turned out to be who he was looking at. Ken Shaw strode out of the early evening shadows.

“What the hell’s going on here, Mr. Bradshaw?” Ken asked as he stepped over Ira and then me. He seemed to ignore both of us and was intently staring at the man with the rotten teeth and bad breath.

“I, I, I...” Bradshaw stammered. Ken was standing directly in front of him now.

“What was my explicit order regarding the Marshals?"

“You wanted them alive?” Bradshaw responded questioningly.

“And?"

“Unharmed. You wanted them unharmed."

“Is that why you threw her to the ground?” Ken pointed back toward me. “Were my orders so unclear that you felt the need to throw a handcuffed woman to the ground and draw your pig sticker? What were you planning on doing, Mr. Bradshaw?"