United States Of Apocalypse (13 page)

“
H
oly shit
,” Rosemary said. She frowned and looked at her two boys, who were grinning after hearing their mom use profanity. “You two go to the room. Now. Shoo.”

“This can’t be happening,” Darlene said, falling to the couch, eyes fixed on the television.

Boston was really gone this time.

According to the news anchor, a small nuclear device had detonated in the center of the city, leveling it. There was hardly anything left except toppled buildings and smoke. Fenway Park, the venerable stadium, had been reduced to a pile of rubble.

She’d thought the worst had happened. A frustrated city pulling itself apart made more sense than a second nuclear attack on U.S. soil. How had the terrorists gotten such a device into the country? And why had it taken two weeks for this attack?

John, sitting next to her, began to shake. He looked away before finally closing his eyes. “This is insane. The world is coming apart.”

“Not the world. Our world,” Pheebz said. She called for Herbert, who was keeping watch on the porch after they’d eaten lunch.

The news cut to a live shot of the president, and he began by giving the few facts already presented about the bombing.

I thought the Boston Marathon bombing was horrible, but this is even worse. Too many lives gone, and with the fallout and long-term damage, the city will never be the same. Hell, Massachusetts and the entire Eastern Seaboard will never be the same
, Darlene thought.

“America is under attack and the cowards are remaining underground and creating havoc in our streets,” the president said. “I have recalled every police officer and soldier in our military back to our shores. We are not going to let politics and the slow grind of government get in the way of what needs to be done. Right here and right now. The United States will close its borders, effective immediately. This means no one gets in and no one leaves. Some of you might have already noticed our United States Naval Fleet anchored off the coasts. They will protect you, and so will the Army flying in to help stop the rioting.” He paused dramatically and stared at the camera. “Fellow Americans, this is
our
country
. Our
cities being rioted.
Our
fellow Americans being attacked by angry mobs. This will end. Now. Thank you.”

Herbert, standing in the doorway, sighed. “Tonight, we need to go into town and see what is happening. Hopefully, everyone hasn’t gone nuts yet. Maybe we can stock up on supplies and get some local news.”

“I haven’t seen anything about the West Coast. They’ve been focusing on the Boston attack. Images out of New York City and the massive riots there, too. But not a lot out of L.A. or San Fran anymore,” Pheebz said.

The coverage went back to the same shots from a news chopper overseeing the destruction of Boston in the distance, the mushroom cloud and the helicopter being buffeted with strong winds even as far out as it was, before turning back to see the destruction. The city had been razed.

“My aunt is dead. The entire Talbot side of the family is gone,” Darlene said, shaking her head. She turned to John. “How far will the radiation and dust and all that spread?”

John shrugged. He was staring at the television. “We could look it up. You’d think they’d tell us what to expect on the news. Some talking-head nobody anti-terrorist nerd should be spouting out facts and figures already.”

Darlene pulled out her phone but it was dead. She’d forgotten to charge it, and with no signal, it was useless anyway.

“I’m going back outside,” Herbert said. “There’s not much we can do about the other side of the country. Heck, we can’t do
anything
about the other side of the county at this point.”

John stood up. “I’ll walk the property again.”

“I can do it,” Darlene said.

John shook his head. “I can’t sleep during the day. You can at least power nap. I’d rather do it. I’m too antsy.”

“Remember, you need to rest at some point. We’re heading to town at dark,” Herbert said.

“I’m fine.” John walked out the door.

They were quiet as they heard John run down the steps outside and into the driveway.

“That boy is wound up tighter than a ball of string,” Rosemary said. She turned to Darlene. “You should go out there and use your feminine charm on him.”

“Rosemary,” Herbert growled.

Rosemary put up her hands. “Herbie, I’m just saying what we’re all thinking. I see the way they look at each other.”

“The man’s wife is dead or missing,” Pheebz said.

“All the more reason to take his mind off of it for a while. Heck, if I was twenty years younger I’d be in the barn with him right now. Hopped up on the hood of a rusty car, too,” Rosemary said.

Darlene covered her mouth and tried not to laugh. The image of the feisty old woman trying to seduce John made her smile. Right now, she needed a good chuckle.

“You make it very hard to be around you, sis.”

“But you still love me, big brother,” Rosemary said.

Darlene went back to the news and watched video of a naval fleet and then a live shot of JFK airport with hundreds of soldiers boarding departing planes. The bottom newsfeed was a continuous scroll of cities updated as far as rioting, curfews imposed, and where residents could go for food, water, and shelter. The last two weeks had felt like years.

It seemed like most news channels were focusing on the positives now and not filling the airwaves with the negative. There was too much negative.

Pheebz changed the channel. MSNBC had an interview with someone who’d survived the Boston attack because he had been driving back to school in Connecticut. The man, who looked to be no more than twenty, had lost his entire family. The hosts were trying to give it a good patriotic spin, but Darlene could tell the man was uncomfortable talking about any of it.

“Leave the boy alone,” Rosemary said.

Darlene stood up. “I think I need to go for a walk.”

“It’s too dangerous outside. It’s been quiet the last few nights, but that will change soon enough,” Herbert said.

Darlene grabbed her rifle and nodded to Herbert. “I’ll be fine. I just need to get away for a few minutes. I’ll go down to the fence line and walk it. I really wish we had infrared goggles or something.”

“So do I,” Herbert said. “Unfortunately, I haven’t hunted in way too long. And when I did, it was during the day with only a rifle between me and my dinner. I never went in for all the fancy toys hunters use these days. It isn’t much of a fair battle anymore. I always enjoyed the challenge.”

“Right now, I’d enjoy a few of those toys,” Darlene said.

Rosemary grinned. “Me too.”

“Sis, I’m warning you.”

Darlene paused for a second when she realized Rosemary was making a sexual innuendo. Wow. The old broad was even feistier than Darlene thought. Good for her. Darlene winked at Rosemary before she walked outside onto the porch.

It was dark, and with no lights on and all the blinds drawn, the only guide was moonlight. That was fine with Darlene, who just wanted to be alone for a while with her thoughts.

John wasn’t on the porch, and this bothered her. If he was out patrolling and saw her movement, he might shoot her. If she made noise and someone else was around, she’d also be in trouble.

Darlene sighed and sat down on the porch, keeping her eyes open for anything.

The night was quiet, as if it were holding its breath. Darlene laughed to herself.
Can you be any more dramatic? Lighten up
, she thought.

Her dad’s funeral felt as though it had happened years ago instead of weeks. Maine seemed a million miles away, and the life she’d been comfortable with was so far removed from everything she was going through.

She’d killed people. If things returned to normal, would she ever be the same?

John came walking up, and Darlene was glad she’d sat on the porch where there was moonlight. He looked right at her before sitting down in one of the chairs and beginning to rock.

“Nice night,” Darlene said.

“Sit with me awhile, please,” John said, almost a whisper.

Darlene sat down in the chair next to John but didn’t look at him, staring instead at the stars she could see.

“They took her from me,” John said. He was wringing his hands. “Four men. There was nothing I could do.”

Darlene didn’t want to interrupt, fearing it would break the spell and keep him from getting it all out. Maybe John just needed to purge it from his mind once and for all, and then he’d feel some relief.

“They took everything we had. Everything I had. They took my wife...four hillbilly bastards who looked like they stepped out of a casting call for
Deliverance
. They were evil men, you could see it when I stopped the car. Why did I stop?”

She waited for John to continue, not knowing if there was more he needed to say. She bit her lip and kept looking at the stars.

“I have nothing now,” John said.

“Not true.” Darlene closed her eyes. Why had she answered?

John slammed his fist on the arm of the chair. “Tell me what I have,” he said, and she could hear the anger in his words.

“I’m not the enemy. I am your friend,” Darlene said. “We’re surviving together.”

John stood and pointed at Darlene. “Do you want to know the kicker? The real reason we left the night we did?”

“Because of me,” Darlene said and looked at John. “Or, rather, because of misplaced jealousy.”

She could tell John wasn’t expecting the answer, and he looked away. “Because of me and the things I’ve done in the past. I had an affair six months ago. A girl ten years younger who worked at the pretzel stand in the mall where I work.” John looked at Darlene again. “She could’ve been your sister. It was stupid, and I came clean to my wife, but I think it was too late. We took this trip to get away from Florida and our problems, but it never helped.”

Darlene kept her mouth shut. John was a cheater, and she had no sympathy for him. She felt sorry for any wife that stayed with a cheater and tried to make it work.

John began pacing on the porch. “This is God’s way of getting back at me.”

“I don’t believe in a vengeful God. I believe in karma, and things happening for a reason. But your wife being….What happened wasn’t because you cheated. It was because of the world around us. What you do from that moment on, however, is your punishment or reward,” Darlene said.

“So, you believe in God?”

“I don’t come from a very religious family, but times like this make you want to hedge your bets. I’d rather believe and be proven wrong than, in the end, not believe and be proven wrong.”

John gave a brief smile. “I can see your point.”

“You just need to focus on what’s going on right now.”

“I can’t. I’m so mad at myself and those men and everything and everyone. This rage is simmering and trying to control me. I know it all sounds cliché, but it’s true. I want to hurt someone,” John said.

Before Darlene could answer, John opened the front door and went inside.

She was worried for all of them. If John succumbed to the anger inside, they were all in trouble. And she didn’t know him well enough to understand how much he’d changed. Their first meeting had been only for a few hours, and most of it had been spent with his wife staring at her.

Darlene didn’t even know what his wife’s name was, and she wasn’t going to ask. She thought it odd John only referred to her as ‘his wife’ and not by name. He was suffering from a major disconnect, and now she was even more scared.

She decided to take a walk and see if she could figure out yet another problem thrown at her. She wondered if any of them were going to get out of this alive.

By the time she got back to the house, Los Angeles had been nuked as well.

A
week later
, and the wounds were still very fresh for both men, barely scabbed over, and for Mike at least, they might never completely heal. The only thing that had kept the men going was the thought of revenge on those that had set these calamitous events in motion. The power had gone out for good the day after Tynes heard from Linda’s family. Fine ash had found its way to New York a few days previously, and most days, the sun was blotted out from the heavy volcanic pollution. Though it was still summer, the average temperature had begun to fall. Maybe it wasn’t another ice age, but the weather was indeed changing. Food was becoming scarce as the farms that remained struggled to keep up with demand. Even if the food was produced, manufacturing and transportation had suffered as well, making distribution extremely difficult.

Tynes had gone in to the police station a few times, but each day, more and more of the force had quit. Panic had taken hold, and the people saw police as a hindrance to their survival. More police had died in the first month of the downfall of the country than had in the entire previous twenty years. The military had been called in almost immediately, and the justice they dealt out completely bypassed the judicial system. Anyone caught in the act of bodily harm upon another was shot. Anyone caught causing property damage was shot. Anyone caught looting was shot. Merely being outside was grounds for getting shot in those first few weeks. Mike ensured that the duo survived, much to the reluctant desire of Tynes.

“We’ve got enough food to last us for weeks. Why get more?” Tynes had asked.

“Weeks? You think the government is going to be righting this ship in a few weeks? I hate to tell you, buddy, but this fucker is sinking. If we could catch a boat, I’d be sailing for the Bahamas. Well, maybe not there—I’ve always been a cold weather fan—but somewhere other than here.”

After the airlines had been grounded, people had turned to ships. Those lucky few that had departed were now stuck wandering the globe, homeless. The same dictate from the North Koreans that mandated no one help the Americans in America applied to those that now found themselves adrift. Germany had been bold enough to launch a submarine to aid. A Chinese spy satellite had caught the transaction in progress as the sick were brought on board the sub and rations were off-loaded. It had been played on their national news. Hamburg had suffered retribution for their interference; it was the last time anyone tried to help. China had off-handedly apologized for the video being aired.

“Where are you going to get the food?”

A run had happened on the convenience and grocery stores. The large bulk stores had clamped down, and those that weren’t completely out of supplies were heavily guarded.

“I have contacts,” Mike said in hushed tones, implying they were less than upstanding citizens.

“And what are you going to use as payment? I’m sure they’re not going to give you anything out of the kindness of their hearts.”

“You let me worry about that.”

“I know you’re right. I’ve just been a cop for so long I have a hard time doing anything that’s not above board.”

“Weird, I would have thought that would be easy for you. You know, with all the ‘takes’ you cops get.” Mike was smiling.

“Shut up. I’ve got a better way that doesn’t involve selling your soul.”

“Who says I still have that available? Baggie, keep an eye on the house.” The cat stretched, its long claws digging into the carpet.

“Sam’s is that way.” Mike pointed to their left.

“Not going to Sam’s unless your idea of dinner for the next year is canned peas.”

“Yeah, I’ll pass. How hungry would I have to be before that started to sound good?” Mike wondered aloud.

“Not long.”

“Where are we going then?” Mike looked around.

“I have good friends at the National Guard barracks.”

“Good enough they’re going to give you food?”

“No.”

“Okay, no hesitation there. Can I ask why we’re going there then? The Guard has a tendency to ask questions after you’re dead.” Mike was genuinely concerned about approaching any military organization.

“I’ve been to the barracks on a number of occasions.”

“Yippee for you.”

“I know where they keep the food,” Tynes said.

“Okay, I’m a little more intrigued. Continue.”

“Thanks. They have damned near a warehouse full of MREs in the event of a disaster.”

“Are you kidding me? Why aren’t they giving it away? Oh, forget it. I get it. They’re saving it for themselves. Why aren’t the Feds forcing them?”

“They’ve got their hands full, I would imagine. Recalling the troops, keeping the country going, collecting taxes, that kind of thing. I bet they don’t give two shits about a few million starving people in New York. I’ll let you in on a dirty little secret. In extreme times like this, the priority isn’t the populace, it’s the government.”

“Yeah that’s a shocker, Tynes. The government has been looking out for their own best interests since Conway Cabal tried to oust George Washington as President.”

“Who? What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m saying that all people in power are predisposed to douchebaggery.”

“Fair enough.”

“So Mr. Cop, you really want to steal food from the most heavily armed personnel in the general area?”

“I think we need to.”

“I think we’re going to need help. I don’t think it’s going to be the cakewalk you believe it will be. Whatever set-up they had before is going to be reorganized and reinforced. If you want to fight an army, you’re going to need an army.”

“You got one?”

“No, but I know where to get one. Turn around.”

“Where to?”

“The garment district.”

“I was under the impression Pembroke never wanted to see you again.”

“I think it’s safe to say that times have changed, and I’m bringing him an offer he may not be able to refuse.”

“Hold up, Mike. I want to get food, not start a war. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Little late for that, don’t you think? Seems to me that the National Guard thinks we’re merely moving targets at this point. They see us, and I’d rather have Pembroke’s men by our side to help us get out of a jam.”

“Are you sure that he won’t just take our plan and kill us?”

“You have a plan?”

Tynes looked cross.

“Listen, these are our options. First, we do nothing, we have enough food for a bit, and then we fight everyone else for the remaining scraps and we get killed. Second, me and you go take on the Guard and get killed. Third, we get Pembroke’s help, and either the guard or he himself kills us. Fourth, and the least likely scenario, with Pembroke’s help, we actually score some food and we don’t get shot by anyone. We have enough food for months, we ride this thing out until there is some semblance of normalcy then we deliver some sort of payback to the fuckers that started this shit.”

“My vote is for the fourth option.”

“Pembroke it is. All right, drop me off here. Guaranteed that Juicy and his boys will have a perimeter set up; he sees me, and he’s going to shoot before he ever says anything to his boss.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Get a manicure, I think the salon is still open.”

“Seriously.”

“If you hear gunfire, I’m dead. Go home, take care of Baggie, and I’ll see you on the other side. If, in a half hour from now, I don’t knock on your window, I’m dead—repeat the above instructions.”

“A lot of ways to die in this new world.”

“The old world was just as dangerous; it was just hidden from sight better.” Mike got out of the car. “Wish me luck, man.” He pulled his hoodie up over his head and tied the draw strings tight to obscure as much of himself as he could, then he buried his hands in the front pouch, holding on tightly to the small revolver that was there.

“This is stupid. I’m going to get killed before I can get myself killed.” Mike approached the corner of Thirty-Third and Seventh Avenue. It was a ghost town, replete with paper tumbleweeds whipping down the roadway. He thought he could feel eyes upon him, but as of yet he had not been challenged. He didn’t dare scan the windows above him.
Just keep walking normal, Mikey boy
. He turned the corner and couldn’t believe his luck, or lack thereof, as a group of men stood around a burning trash barrel. Mike wondered if perhaps they would break out into a cappella. He was looking at the back of Juicy’s greasy hair as he walked closer. This was going to be close. A man pointed over Juicy’s shoulder at the impending intruder. Juicy was in the process of turning as Mike was in the midst of pulling out his gun.

“Not close enough,” Mike mumbled. His gun was out, but now at least two rifles were pointing at him. “Juicy, I’ll blow your fucking head off if they shoot me!” he shouted.

There was a silence as Juicy thought on the voice. “Talbot? Shoot the motherfucker.” He turned and looked directly at Mike.

The charade was over. Mike knew that as he threw his hood back to get a better peripheral view.

“I’m fifteen feet away. I won’t miss from here.” Mike wasn’t confident. He’d never been great with a handgun, and a snub nose was accurate for not much more than that distance. He only hoped he sounded confident enough in his abilities that Juicy would believe him, or at least choose not to risk it.

“I told you not to come back here. You stupid
puta
.”

“I couldn’t stay away, man. I’ve always had this thing for stringy hair.” A couple of the men laughed. There was a strangled growl from Juicy. “Trust me, I don’t want to be here either. I’ve got a proposition for the boss.”

“Yeah, well maybe he’s got a proposition for you!” he shouted back.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, let’s settle this amicably. Hello, Mike,” Pembroke said from the doorway.

“Hello, Mr. Pembroke.”

“I thought I’d made my intentions very clear when last we were together.”

“You did, sir, crystal clear. Circumstances changed.”

“Ah yes, the destruction of your home city. I’m sorry for that.”

Mike felt the true sincerity in his former boss’s words.

“Thank you. I wanted to run something by you.”

“You still at the cop’s house?”

“How...? Forget it; you already know I am.”

“You gay for him?” Juicy spat out trying to save face.

“Even if I was, what business is it of yours?” Mike asked. Juicy had been expecting hostility and denial and was unprepared for Mike’s candid reply.

“Well, because you’d be a fag!”

“You’re an idiot, Juicy,” Mike said as he walked past him. Pembroke had waved him in. Mike thought Pembroke’s particular sexual preference was a well-known fact. Apparently, Juicy had not received the memo.

“Juicy, go get the cop, and if anything happens to him while he’s under my protection, I will personally skin you alive,” Pembroke said as he pulled the door shut. “Why are you here Mike?” he asked as they went down the hallway and into his office. Pembroke moved behind his heavy desk and sat in an expensive leather-bound chair. “Sit, sit,” he urged.

“Thank you.”

“Cigar? They’re Cuban. No more trade embargoes.”

“I usually smoke stuff a little more green, but I don’t think I can pass that up. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Do you want to wait for Tynes?”

“You going to let us live?”

“Depends on what we have to talk about.”

“I’ll wait for him then.”

“Splendid.” He reached across his desk and lit Mike’s cigar.

“He didn’t come willingly,” Juicy said, not wanting to get any closer to an already angry Tynes.

“Hello, Sergeant Tynes. Please sit down,” Pembroke said, ushering the cop to a seat.

“You can leave,” Pembroke said to Juicy. Juicy was less than pleased to not be included in the discussion. The room shook as the door was slammed shut.

“What’s going on, Mike?” Tynes asked.

“Mr. Pembroke here is waiting to hear if the proposal we have is worth his time or not.”

“And if it isn’t?”

“We’re going to need an exit strategy.”

“Gentlemen, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Tell him,” Mike prodded.

“Everything?”

“How many options you see?”

“I know how and where to get food,” Tynes said, turning to Pembroke.

“Ah food, now there is a commodity that will be nearly worth its weight in gold in another month, probably more so. I’m listening.”

“What assurances do I have that once I tell you everything that you don’t just off us and go ahead with the plan yourself?”

“I’m not a damned savage. Believe it or not, Sergeant Tynes, there is a criminal code of conduct. Most don’t adhere to it, but I live by it.”

“Um…Mr. Pembroke, sir. I hate to be Captain Obvious, but that statement doesn’t really guarantee our safety.”

“Michael, I like you. I always have. You kept your nose clean.”

Tynes scoffed.

“He kept his nose clean within our circles, Sergeant. Mike, you did what I asked with a minimal amount of worry. Perhaps you could have risen high within our structure, but I think you did, and still have, too much of a conscience. There are, let’s say,
elements
of this job that would have proved damaging to that sensitive psyche of yours. Of course, that conscience was one reason I knew I could rely on you not to turn on us. I liked you the way you were. Sarcastic, quick tongued, and quick witted.”

“That’s what you like about him?” Tynes was having a difficult time seeing those as strong personality traits.

“Tell him. I trusted him enough to think he’d at least hear us out. If he likes it, we’re in.”

“I’m saying this under protest,” Tynes stated.

“You can tell the undertaker. I’m sure he’ll give a shit.”

Pembroke laughed at Mike’s words. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

“The food, I know where we can get more than enough.”

“I’m not sure there is ever such a thing as ‘more than enough,’ but continue.”

“I have a couple of friends in the National Guard. They have a warehouse on East Twenty-Fifth and Twenty-Sixth that houses thousands upon thousands of full pallets of MREs.”