End of the World

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End of the World Page 26

by D Thomas Jewett


  “Throughout the U.K., roving gangs are in search of food and other provisions. We have received numerous reports of gangs breaking into occupied homes, killing the residents, and stealing their food. Remember, under English law, you may be imprisoned for using excessive force against those who break into your home or threaten your life.”

  “In still other news ...”

  She switched it off.

  Josh sneered as he said, “Well, that's uplifting news.”

  Mikaela burst out in nervous laughter. “I don't know if I can handle this anymore.” She grabbed at a cigarette and lit up with her shaking hands. She drew deeply, inhaling the smoke and then letting it out of her lungs – she seemed immediately more calm.

  Josh looked down to the floor, and then looked at Mikaela. “With the water now off, and our supplies as they are, I'm thinking we'll need to go out and find more – soon.”

  “I know,” Mikaela's voice quivered.

  “But,” Josh continued, “we'll need a plan, and we'll need weapons.”

  Mikaela grew silent as she looked down at the floor. And then she raised her head to meet Josh's eyes. “When do you want to do it?”

  * * *

  Less than twelve hours later, two black figures quietly descended the back stairwell and left behind the relative security of the condo. Stealth was the watchword as they made their way out the back of the building and into the alley. They were lucky. The sky was dimly lit with a half-moon hidden above the high overcast of clouds. Once their eyes adjusted, this was enough illumination to light their path; and yet they could also use the darkness and shadows for concealment.

  They crouched in dark shadows, taking time to carefully scan their surroundings. Josh was perplexed. Mikaela seems to be handling it well; and yet she was so overwrought earlier, he thought. Maybe our work with the knives helped. But then Josh shook his head. Will the real Mikaela please stand up?

  Josh and Mikaela spent much of the day in preparation. The only thing close to a weapon was Josh's kitchen knives, and so they practiced with them until they each felt comfortable wielding one in a fight.

  Josh and Mikaela had also talked extensively about their objectives, which they decided was the acquisition of food and water, and how best to achieve them. For this raid, the plan was to search adjacent buildings and stores – hopefully, they’d find something. Blimey, he thought. We’re ready as we’ll ever be.

  With Mikaela taking the lead, they moved out from the shadows. Following the back alley parallel to the street, they moved in single-file, softly, stealthily, stepping around the trash and debris. The neighborhood is already starting to stink, Josh thought. But the thought was no sooner through his mind than a figure jumped out of the shadows and hit Mikaela over the head. And then a split second later, Josh felt his head explode. Everything went black ...

  * * * * *

  Meanwhile, in Sacramento ...

  Lance ran down the middle of the street. It felt eerie without cars on the street – like he was on another planet! He spied a brick building and dashed through the entrance. Strangely, he did not feel tired or out of breath. He sprinted down a corridor, past doorway after doorway, each doorway with a gun barrel protruding. He came to the end of the corridor and dodged sideways from the wall, changing direction into the adjoining corridor. He continued running – with still more doorways, and more protruding guns; until he came upon a stairwell. He began climbing the stairs – running. He could hear footsteps behind him; and then the sound of gunfire as bullets ricocheted off the walls and the stairs. He ducked, running up the stairs faster and faster.

  He finally reached a doorway at the top of the stairs. Afraid that the gunfire from below would hit him, he kicked the door open and ran through the doorway.

  ... and then, he found himself falling. Falling from a great height off of a tall building. The building standing amidst other high rise buildings. He watched the bricks of the building move by him, faster and faster. He looked down – the pavement was coming up to meet him. ...

  Lance woke up in a cold sweat. Wow! What the hell was that! He looked at his hands – trembling. He reached over to the night stand to grab a cigarette, and he sensed his entire body trembling. Shit! Still shaking, he lit up the cigarette and dragged deeply on it, feeling calm begin to wash through him.

  He swung his legs over the side of the bed while helping himself to another draw of the cigarette. He could feel himself relax still more, and so he took another deep drag. And that's when he began to feel normal.

  He looked around at the room. This empty house is a good place for the gang to live. I'm glad we found it!

  * * *

  With their new found home, Lance decided they needed to go shopping. So he walked into the living room and made an announcement. “Hey! Hey, you assholes!” He yelled. “You gonna starve unless you help get us food!”

  Lance heard grunts, groans, and bantering; but nothing constructive was offered. And then someone piped up. “Hey man. When you gonna go?”

  “Fifteen minutes,” Lance yelled his reply.

  Lance was surprised when he left the house. He must've had twenty-five kids with him, maybe more. He led them through the neighborhood streets until they reached the main thoroughfare.

  Then Lance turned and announced to the gang. “We need cars – and trucks; or else we're gonna walk! So keep your eyes peeled for 'em. Okay?”

  The gang’s shouting increased – “Yeah, man. Yeah!”

  They strode along the sidewalk and the street, passing one alley, one driveway, after another. It was not unusual to see a body or two laying on the ground as they passed. Shit, Lance thought. They’re either drugged out or dead.

  They continued walking until they finally approached a local shopping area, abounding with grocery stores and strip shopping malls. “Look! Listen!” Lance shouted. “Isn't this weird? What’s happened to the cars?”

  And then Lance looked up at the filling station sign.

  Regular Unleaded $602.4999

  Premium Unleaded $607.4999

  Diesel $895.7999

  “I guess that's the answer,” he said. “No one can afford gas anymore.”

  At just that moment Lance heard a vehicle approach from behind. He turned and looked – it was a truck! “Okay guys,” Lance yelled, “let's get this one.”

  The gang moved as a single unit into the street and set up a road block, and several of them pulled their guns, pointing them downrange at the oncoming truck. The truck was an older diesel farm truck – it slowed, and then slowed some more.

  Suddenly, the engine roared and the truck sped up as it closed on the blockade. Someone in the gang fired several shots, and still the truck came. Faster and faster the engine whined. The mob knew they had no control, and they scattered as the truck blew through the spot of their previous blockade.

  Lance glared as it sped past. He shook his fist at the truck and gave it the finger. “We'll get the next sonofabitch,” he announced.

  And soon another car approached. And again, the mob formed a blockade out in the street. This time, the car honked as it closed, but the driver stopped the car just short of the mob.

  The mob circled the car and opened the door, hauling the driver off his seat and onto the road. “Hey, he’s just an old man,” yelled one of the mob. “Watch this,” he shouted and then stomped on the man's head with his foot. And then he kicked the man in the shoulder and face. Blood began to spew out of the man's mouth as his eyes glazed. “Take this, you bastard!” Yelled one of the mob members as he kicked again.

  The man covered his head with his arms, all the while the mob was kicking at him. “Help!” the man whimpered. “Help me!”

  “I'll help ya,” a smallish thug yelled as he kicked again.

  Meanwhile, Lance and a few others commandeered the car. “We'll meet you down the street,” he said. The tires squealed as the car took off toward the shopping area, just a stone's throw away.

  Another member pip
ed up. “Hey. Let's get us a few more cars!”

  “Yeah, yeah,” the mob shouted their approval.

  They dragged their victim to the side of the road and left him face down, unconsciousness and bleeding.

  * * * * *

  Spike carried a case of pastries out of the store and made for the car. He stowed them in the front of the cab, noting they didn’t have much more space. “Hey Lance, we're running out of room,” he said.

  “No problem,” Lance replied, “we'll fill up the back seat too!”

  Lance nodded to another gang member as he hauled out some apples and stowed them in the back seat. “Great work, Pucker.”

  Pucker paused in front of the car and nodded to Lance with a smile. “I'll get some more,” he shouted. But then a shot rang out from nowhere, and Pucker's smile turned to a grimace. More shots rang out as Lance dropped to the ground. He turned his head and glimpsed Pucker, kneeling next to the car, coughing – or heaving!

  The gunfire stopped. Lance lifted his head and looked around, wary of any further attack. He could see Spike behind cover nearby. Spike looked over at him and said, “what the fuck was that!”

  “I dunno,” Lance responded. And then more shots rang out.

  Lance swore, “fuck this!” He pointed his pistol in the direction of the shots and fired a few rounds.

  The gunfire stopped. The air was silent. Lance used hand signals with Spike – telling him that he’d circle around to the left. Seeing this, Spike stood up, ready to take off around the right side. But shots rang out and Spike dropped – like a sack of rocks he hit the ground.

  Lance saw it happen. Shaking, Lance yelled “GET OUT OF HERE!” His gang stood up and retreated from the shooters, ignoring the flying bullets in their haste. But the bullets didn’t ignore them – and a couple more comrades fell sprawling to the ground, where they were left for dead.

  Soon, a group of thugs emerged from the shadows and approached the car. They were led by a grizzled middle-aged man, who announced, “Well, I guess we've got food for a few days.”

  “Hey boss,” one of the gang piped up. “What’re we gonna do when the food runs out?”

  * * * * *

  Chairman Ross hit the intercom switch. “Carol?”

  “Yes sir?” Carol responded.

  “Will you please notify my security that I'd like to leave in 5 minutes?”

  “Yes, sir. Will you meet the limousine at the usual boarding place? Or at the front?”

  “At the usual boarding place. Thank you.”

  Click!

  In less than a minute, the intercom buzzed. The Chairman pressed the 'connect' button. “Yes?”

  “Sir, I just tried to contact the security detail. S-s-sir, the only word I got was from the chauffeur. He, ah – he said that Jeff and the others left in a hurry. They said something about an emergency at home.”

  “Damn!” The chairman paused. He knew he was not supposed to travel without security. But I’m really tired of waiting on them. It seems like they're never ready when I want to go!

  He clicked the transmit button. “Carol, please have the chauffeur bring the limo around to my usual spot.”

  “Yes sir. Right away, sir.”

  Chapter 11 – Wednesday

  “We need more food,” Mark announced.

  “How are we going to get it?” Sheryl replied. “After all, the stores are all closed.”

  “I don't know.” Mark glanced toward the kitchen and then focused on Sheryl. “Hey! Maybe we can drive out to the country and buy some stuff at the farmer's markets.”

  “Oh. I like that idea,” Sheryl said.

  “Well, let's get going!”

  The two left the apartment and got into the car. Mark inserted the key and turned it, cranking the engine. Wrrrrrr! Wrrrrrr! “Damn it!” Wrrrrrr! Wrrrrrr! And then it started.

  It ran for 15 seconds, and then the engine died.

  “Shit! What's going on with this damn thing! I've never had a problem with it before!”

  They sat in silence for a moment. And then Sheryl made a suggestion. “Gas?”

  Mark paused in thought. He turned on the ignition and checked the fuel gauge. “It's empty!” He spat.

  “Damn,” Sheryl exclaimed. “I guess we're not going anywhere.”

  Chapter 12 – Ultimatum

  Brandy shuddered, just about jumping out of her skin as she woke up. Still half asleep, she muttered, “Oh my God! They hanged her!”

  And then it hit her – it's dark! The floodlights are off! Oh shit! This is not good! She crawled over to the window where Bill was peering out through his night-vision goggles. She whispered, “What's up?”

  Bill's mouth was clenched as he turned to Brandy. “They turned out the lights; I don't know why. I don't see any activity behind that wall of cars.”

  From beyond the wall, they heard tapping on the megaphone. And then the megaphone bellowed. “Attention! Attention. Inside the house!” The bellowing paused and then continued. “Attention! Attention. Inside the house!”

  “What do they want now?” Bill muttered.

  The megaphone bellowed again. “Attention! If you turn over all your gold and silver, you will be free to go!” The bellowing paused and then continued. “If you turn over all your gold and silver, you will be free to go!”

  Brandy’s eyebrows rose as she muttered under her breath. “What the hell?”

  “My sentiments exactly!” Bill whispered.

  The megaphone bellowed again. “Attention! If you do not turn over your gold and silver, we will come and take it from you!” The bellowing paused and then continued. “Attention! If you do not turn over your gold and silver, we will come and take it from you!”

  “Shit!” Bill spat. “This could turn out really bad!”

  Brandy felt her face draw taut. “Do you really believe they'd let us go?”

  “Hell no! But what they're tellin' us is they'll kill us for our gold!” Bill paused, his mouth twisting into a gnash. “And if they'll kill us for our gold, then all bets are off – they'll kill us anyway!”

  “That's my take on it too,” Brandy assented. “The game has changed!”

  “I wonder why?” Bill thought out loud.

  “That's a damn good question!”

  In silence, they considered their new predicament.

  From beyond the barrier, they again heard tapping on the megaphone. And then the megaphone bellowed. “Attention! Attention. Inside the house!” Significant pause. “You have 24 hours to comply.” Significant pause. “Attention! Attention. Inside the house! You have 24 hours to comply!”

  Bill and Brandy’s eyes met as they listened.

  Finally, Brandy spoke up. “I think we need to post on three sides of the house with night vision goggles. And if we see any attempt to storm the house, we should start by firing warning shots.”

  “Agreed.”

  “And if they continue coming at us, we'll have to defend ourselves – we’ll have to shoot ‘em.”

  “I agree,” Bill assented. “This last edict from them is a game changer. They threatened us with death if we do not turn over our gold. They're behaving like thugs in a mugging.”

  “Why would you expect them to behave any different?” Brandy asked, a smirk on her face. “Anyway, I'll update Murray on what we're doing.”

  * * *

  Murray’s face turned ashen as they told him the plan. “But, but – shoot them? Oh my Gawd! Brandy, we could get sent up for that!”

  “I know,” Brandy replied. “But they've just as much said they'll kill us. So, do you have any better ideas?”

  Murray grew silent, and then responded. “Let me think about it. If I can think of anything better, I'll run it by you.”

  “Okay,” Brandy coaxed, “but what are you goin' to do in the mean time?”

  “Sh . . shit, Brandy. Okay – I'll shoot 'em if I have too.”

  Brandy kissed Murray on the cheek and watched as Murray turned red. “You better. Because if you do
n't shoot, y'all will be dead,” Brandy said in her most refined southern drawl.

  * * * * *

  Josh awoke with a shudder; feeling cold, damp pavement against him – against his cheek. With only one eye open, he was aware of a throbbing pain in his skull. He attempted to move his hand up to his head, only to find his hands were bound tightly behind his back. Blimey! He thought. Josh remained still, attempting to shake off the cobwebs.

  And then he began moving his head, taking in his surroundings. He was laying in the street; and there was a crowd – a mob, if you will – facing toward some shops lining the sidewalk in the early dawn light.

  “Josh,” he heard a woman's whisper. He flipped his head, his eyes connecting with Mikaela. She was similarly bound.

  “Mikaela,” he whispered. “What happened?”

  “I don't know,” she replied. “One minute I was moving down the alley, and then I felt my head explode!”

  “I saw you get hit just as they hit me.” Josh replied. “But that's the last thing I remember.”

  “Shut up, you two,” a voice said, “or I'll knock you out again.”

  Josh’s eyes shifted, only to see a big burly man. “Who are you?” Josh asked.

  The man stooped, putting his sneering face up close in front of Josh’s eyes. Then Josh’s head snapped with the man’s backhander across his face, causing his head to spin.

  “Shut up!” The man said.

  The swirling in Josh's head began to recede. And then he heard a voice. A bellowing voice off in the distance. His eyes shifted, and he saw a mob congregating around the silhouette of a man.

  Josh focused his attention and listened.

  “ ... and we'll need to search for food in a different area ...”

  “And now for our other business, we 'ave two bastards we've captured.” The speaker called to the back of the mob “Hermione? Charles? Bring 'em out here.”

 

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