Restitution: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival series (The Dark Road series Book 8)

closer look to make sure. Satisfied they didn’t need any of the batteries to get out of here, he continued on as planned.
Ben yanked the wires off the bank of batteries, and the fan came to a stop within seconds. He’d close the louvers on the outside of the building last. As strong as the moonshine was, he thought it best not to take any chances and close off the opening until he was ready to leave.
Next, he focused on the pipe leading off the top of the mash pot. That was where the alcohol vapor left the boiler and moved on to be cooled down to a liquid. He needed to separate the pipe fitting at the top and looked around the room for something he could use; the pipe was too hot to touch with his bare hands. He entertained the idea of knocking it loose with the butt of his rifle but didn’t want to risk making that much noise.
He spotted a pair of leather work gloves hanging by the door and decided they would have to do. Ben put on the gloves and touched the pipe gingerly at first, gradually working his way up to wrapping his whole hand around it. He could feel the heat immediately, but it was bearable, at least for as long as it would take to do some damage. He didn’t waste any time and grabbed the copper tubing with both hands. Concentrating his efforts at a joint, he wrenched back and forth on the connection until it creased and then broke off. Jerking his hands back from the rush of scalding-hot vapor, he watched it escape from the newly severed pipe for a few seconds. That should do it.
It was hot inside the shed to begin with, but now, without the fan and the boiler spewing blistering-hot alcohol vapor and steam into the room, it was downright inhospitable. Ben swore he felt the temperature rise a few degrees before he was able to shoulder his rifle and slip outside. Once he was out of the stifling confines of the shed, he took a deep breath. The night air felt refreshing, and the sweat running down his face was cool to the touch when he wiped it away.
He ran his hand over the set of louvers on the outside of the exhaust vent, closing them one by one until the opening was sealed as well as it could be. The clock was officially running on the explosion he hoped to create. The shed had a footprint of about ten feet wide by ten feet long and a low ceiling. At the rate the busted pipe was spewing vapor, he guessed it would only be a matter of minutes before the air inside the shed was combustible, and he needed to put some distance between him and the still.
Ben adjusted his rifle sling and prepared to make the trek back through the compound to rejoin the others. He was keeping an eye on the time as well, knowing full well that Joel would be watching the clock and holding him to his fifteen-minute promise.
He had a few minutes left, though, and there was no need to rush now and risk making a mistake. Other than getting away from the still, he needed to take his time sneaking back through the camp. He didn’t want to lose the element of surprise when the still blew, although if what they were drinking tonight was the same stuff he found in the shed, they might all be passed out drunk. Even better.

Chapter Eight
Ben moved quickly for the first hundred yards or so. Only when there were a few container houses between him would he feel safe enough to slow down. He should have a few minutes before the explosion, but why take any chances? His plan was to get back to the others before the still went off so he could go over the rest of the plan. He would have filled Joel in on what he was doing, but at the time, he wasn’t even sure there was a still or if he could use it to create a diversion.
But there was, and he was pretty sure it was going to go off pretty big. The initial explosion would come from the combustion of the alcohol vapors, but the hundred gallons or more of moonshine in the shed and the gas tank fueling the burner would cause secondary explosions as well.
All that was left for him and Joel to do was take positions where they could cover each other and have a good view of the compound. If they played their cards right, they could wrap this up quickly and be ready to roll out of here by morning—assuming they could find all their supplies and repack the trucks.
But he was getting ahead of himself. There was still another couple of hundred yards to travel, and the vegetation was thin through this part of the compound. He’d gone a different way back so he could get a better feel for the layout of the place. Whenever possible, it was always a good idea to do a little scouting.
Ben stayed crouched behind a large tree as he surveyed the area. From here, he could see a few of the container houses, along with the firepit and the center of the camp once again, only this time he was looking at it from the opposite side. The old man’s body was still slumped over in the chair, and it didn’t look like anyone had messed with him or even noticed.
Ben continued searching the edges of the common area that made up the center of the compound and spotted a faint light emanating from behind a collection of containers. It was surprisingly close to where they had been held captive.
He broke from the cover of the tree and made his way around the outskirts of the camp’s center, not stopping until he reached