Dark Days (Book 1): The Collapse

by Davis, James

  The hell is that? he thought, frantically digging in his pocket for his phone intent on stopping that noise. Finding his phone he hastily swiped it open to see what was causing the alarm. Nothing could have prepared him for what met his eyes. A grey box instantly appeared in the center of the screen it read,

  WARNING: Incoming intercontinental ballistic missile threat. Take cover immediately.

  Taking a moment to process what he had just read, Hank read the message at least four more times.

  Was this really happening? Was it a mistake? A test? Could this possibly be real? His thought process was interrupted as his wife came rushing into the room; her phone clutched tightly in her hand.

  "What is this Hank? What's going on?" She asked frantically. He placed his hands on her shoulders and calmly replied, not entirely sure if he was trying to persuade her or himself of the veracity of his words,

  "I'm sure it's nothing. Probably a test or someone fell asleep at the switch." He nervously chuckled,

  "Let's turn on the news to be sure." They moved to the living room and switched on the television. The scrolling text at the bottom the screen read:

  WARNING: United States Advanced Missile Detection System has detected an Intercontinental ballistic missile threat targeting the following U.S. cities. Houston, New York City, Washington D.C., Los Angeles, Chicago, San Diego, Jacksonville, Colorado Springs, New Mexico, Charleston, Amarillo. This is not a drill. Seek shelter immediately. The blonde woman on the screen, dressed in a maroon blazer covering a white top spoke confirming what they had just read.

  "Americans within these areas should seek shelter immediately," she said pointing toward several highlighted areas on the map behind her as she continued,

  "those of you not within these areas are urged to stay where you are. In your home is the safest place to be right now. We will continue to keep you updated with any new information we receive for as long as we're able."

  Hank switched off the TV. He didn't need to see anymore, he knew where things were headed, and he’d seen it all before. He thought about his brother, he hadn't heard from him in hours, he must be driving still. He needed to make sure he was ok. Of course they had a plan for such an event, but perhaps he didn't even know what was going on right now.

  Hank pulled out his phone to call him, he swiped the screen open quick and pressed the call button. Before it could ring even once the screen went black, along with everything around him. Karen gave a startled scream waking Toby in the other room, who began to cry. Karen rushed out of the room calling to her son as she went. Hank opened the coat closet and reached in, retrieving a long white candle. He reached in his pocket and fished out his lighter. He lit it, illuminating the living room and the frightened faces of his family. Hank went to the window, peeled the curtain back and peeked out. Everything was dark, not a porch light, streetlight, not even the headlights of a car was anywhere in sight. Neighbors were already stepping out of their homes, no doubt having just received the same alert. Karen clearly becoming frantic asked,

  "What's going on Hank? What are we going to do?" Trying to appear calm and in control of the situation, Hank replied flatly,

  "We’re leaving."

  "Leaving? We can't leave! The news just said we should stay put and wait for help to come!" She protested. Hank knew that wasn't an option. Having spent a decade in the Marines he knew just how quickly things could turn to shit, people would certainly show up, but they wouldn’t be there to help them.

  "We aren't going to wait here like sitting ducks and the last thing we can expect is someone to show up and save us. Just calm down and let me think for a minute." After a quick moment of thought Hank spoke again,

  "Okay, we can't stay here, not for long anyways. Clay's last stop isn't far from here. He would have been there when this happened, and if I know Clay, he’s headed here. Which means he’s probably on foot, we'll give him twelve hours." He paused to look at his watch

  "9:30...in 12 hours we leave, no matter what. In the meantime let's get our emergency kits from the attic. Pack some extra food, anything light that is non-perishable, we may be a few days from where we're going and if the roads are bad we may end up traveling on foot. I'm going to lock the house down and gather a few more supplies,” he said already starting to check window locks. As he went from room to room checking windows, closing blinds and curtains he thought about all the memories they would be leaving behind, possibly forever. The garage where he'd spent his weekends restoring that old car, the dining room where they had laughed and chatted over countless family dinners, Toby's bedroom where he had spent hours and hours playing with his son. He picked up the boy's favorite toy, a yellow truck, and looked it over, "he’ll need this." he said to an empty room before moving to his office.

  He hated spending so much time in there but had to admit that if he never made it back, he'd miss it. He gazed out the window at his fenced in backyard. He had been looking forward to firing up that old propane grill, Father's Day gift he had received the year his son was born, and relaxing by the pool. That would all have to wait, keeping his family safe was the only thing he cared about. Reality quickly fading back in, he locked the window and closed the curtains, leaving his office for what may be the last time.

  In the living room Hank looked over the food Karen had packed. Half a box of granola bars, a bag of crackers shaped like fish, half a jar of peanut butter, five cans of tuna, three cans of soup, a jar of pickles, a bag of plain potato chips, and six gallons of water. At least they had plenty of water; they would have to make it work. He made a mental inventory. Blankets, clothes, food, water. He had packed all the ammo he had. They were ready, he just had to wait for Clay.

  "We should try to sleep a little," he told Karen, "we’ll need to leave early, we will need to be rested."

  She simply replied, "Okay." They laid down in bed for the rest of the night, although he was pretty sure no one would be getting much sleep. Bella laid beside the bed, he knew she would let him know if something came up.

  Hank could see the first diffuse rays of light peek through the closed blinds a few hours later, he hadn't slept a wink. He ran through every possible thing that could go wrong as he laid there. None of it looked good. Unable to lie there any longer he quietly rolled out of bed as not to disturb his sleeping wife. Sensing his movement Bella snapped to attention, moving for the first time from her position beside the bed.

  Walking to the back door he peeked through the curtains to make sure all looked okay. The neighborhood wasn't burning down, that was a good sign. He opened the back door a crack as the dog quickly darted past him and out into the back yard. He stepped out and lit a cigarette, his wife had been nagging him to quit for months, but he didn't think she would mind this one, given the circumstances. It didn't feel like he expected it should, though he wasn't sure exactly what it should feel like. The neighborhood was quiet, eerily so, there were no sounds of kids playing, or lawnmowers or leaf blowers blaring, not a single car passed by. He took in the peacefulness, leisurely inhaling and exhaling each hit before taking one more and flicking the butt into the backyard then turning to enter the house. He gave a quick call for the dog who by this point was lying in the grass, still damp from the morning dew, lazily chewing on a dirty green tennis ball. Hearing her master's call she dropped the ball and darted for the door.

  It had been almost ten hours since the power went out. Hank was getting worried, he knew they couldn't wait forever and he knew Clay would understand, but he was going to wait every second of the twelve hours he had given him. He leaned back, watching as his wife entered the kitchen and reached into the cupboard. She retrieved a box of Fruity Pebbles and poured some into a green bowl on the counter. She went to grab the milk and it dawned on her,

  “Crap the fridge has been off all night. Do you think this milk is still ok?” she said, looking over at Hank.

  “Let me see it.” he said, holding his hand out to her. She quickly handed the gallon jug to him and he
opened it and stuck the tip of his nose inside the jug and took a deep breath.

  “Doesn’t smell bad.,” he said before bringing the jug to his mouth and gulping down several large swigs.

  “Don’t taste bad either. I’d say its fine.” he said, handing it back to Karen who was looking at him with a half smile on her face.

  “What? How else did you expect me to see if it was still good?” he asked. Karen chuckled and shook her head as she poured the milk into the bowl.

  Toby charged around the corner, barely managing to stay on his feet as his socks failed to gain traction on the tile.

  "I want cereal!" He yelled. Hank chuckled as his son slid across the kitchen floor. He hadn't let his family stray too far from him since last night. He knew how quickly things could descend into chaos and he wasn't going to get caught with his pants down. He looked at his watch.

  "Two more hours and then we have to hit the road." He went through everything they had prepared to take, leaving everything but the essentials behind.

  "This should get us where we're going, we'll have everything we need once we make it there." Looking at his watch he noticed only 10 minutes had passed since the last time he checked, but it seemed like hours. He went over their supplies again. The wait was killing him. Outwardly he remained calm and collected for the sake of his family but internally he was losing his mind. How could his carefully orchestrated life be crumbling so fast, how could he have not seen this coming, all the signs were there, why hadn’t he paid attention and where the fuck was Clay? His mind was racing, not having time to process one thought before the next one popped up. After several cigarettes and having gone through his supplies several times he checked his watch again.

  "One hour, then we have to go."

  Karen who had been in the midst of her own internal struggles inquired,

  "what about Cl-" He held his hand up as if to silence her,

  "Then we have to go." He reiterated. He grabbed a sheet of paper from the counter and scribbled a quick note.

  "Waited for you, had to stick to the plan, see you soon." He placed it on the counter, and beside it he placed a gallon of water. If he had to get here on foot he would need that.

  "We could wait longer." Karen offered sensing her husband’s distress,

  "the news said home was the safest place to be."

  Hank knew that wasn't true, they had to leave in one hour with or without Clay. Just then he heard the screen door open, the doorknob rattles. Someone was out there. Hank motioned for his wife to stay quiet. He led them into the back bedroom and whispered,

  "lock this door behind me and open it for no one. If someone comes in that isn't me. You don't hesitate, you shoot until you're empty." Hank drew his weapon and checked to ensure one was chambered before disappearing out of the room. Quietly walking toward the front door he peered through the peephole. He saw a tall man holding what looked to be a rifle. The man was facing away, but clearly he wasn't there to borrow a cup of sugar. Hank decided it was now or never. He took a deep breath, gripped his pistol and put his finger on the trigger. He was prepared to do what he had to in order to protect his family. Seizing the advantage, he flung open the door aiming his weapon directly at the back of the man's head he spoke quickly.

  "Don't you fucking move!"

  "Put that thing away before I shove it up your ass," the man said, turning around and shoving his way past Hank.

  Chapter 3

  “Damn it, Clay, you scared the hell out of me. I almost splattered your brains all over the front yard. Next time try knocking.” Hank said wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. Clay let out a high pitched whistle.

  “Just keeping you on your toes,” he said as Sarge came bounding up the steps. Hank laughed and asked, “So how is it out there?”

  “Not good, I already had to shoot a man. He was trying to rape this woman, so I shot him in the leg. After I shot him she grabbed his knife and stabbed him repeatedly in the heart.”

  “Why didn't you try to stop her?” Hank exclaimed.

  “What the hell was I supposed to do Hank? Call the police? Oh yeah, that's right, the damn phones don't work!” Clay shot back irritated.

  “Jesus Christ man, it's been less than 24 hours and people are already out raping and killing each other!” Hank said pacing back and forth.

  “Let's get inside before someone sees us,” Clay said as he gestured for Sarge to follow.

  “You need to put your gear on right now Hank, you might not have a chance to do it later.” Hank sighed like a 12-year-old being told what to do and stomped off toward the garage muttering something about Afghanistan.

  He swung open the garage door talking to Clay over his shoulder, who was following behind as he spanned the two steps into the garage,

  “You took your sweet ass time, we almost left without you. You talk to Ash?” Hank asked as he closed the garage door behind them,

  “No, not since before the lights went out, we need to get to them as soon as possible.” Clay said in an urgent tone.

  “That we do,” Hank said as he grabbed the black car cover with both hands, giving it a quick tug. The cover came off all in one motion and fell to the concrete floor revealing Hank's prize possession. Hank had spent years restoring the 1971 Plymouth GTX. He spent almost every weekend in his garage turning wrenches. He had restored everything in this car from tires all the way to the upholstery on the seats. Karen often joked that he loved that thing more than his own family. She was wrong of course, but he had to admit it was a pretty close second. He pulled a key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock giving a quick turn opening the trunk of his shiny red car. Hank lifted a black rubber mat lining the bottom of the trunk to uncover a thick pelican case spanning the entire length and width of the trunk itself. Opening both latches at the same time he quickly lifted the lid. Inside rested a plate carrying vest, an AR-15, below that six magazines, two boxes containing 400 extra rounds, a 1911, below that were four magazines and a sheathed black K-Bar. Hank strapped the vest on and shoved the extra magazines in place before swinging the rifle around his neck and shoulder, letting it rest in place on his chest. Finishing up, he walked across the garage. Standing next to his brother, they began looking over each other’s gear, making sure nothing was out of place like they had hundreds of times before.

  “We haven't geared up like this in a crow's age” Clay said barely able to contain a laugh. Confused, Hank turned to face his brother, “what in the hell is a crow’s age?” Clay lost it, he was laughing so hard the entire neighborhood could probably hear him.

  “What is going on out here?” Karen said as she flung open the door startling them both.

  “Clay! Was that you sneaking around outside?” Stifling a laugh, Clay said,

  “Uh, yes ma'am, just me and Sarge.”

  ”You ever consider knocking?” She said as she cocked her hip out to the side and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

  “Good to see you too Karen, how are you?” he replied sarcastically.

  “Well, considering the power is out, missiles hit God knows where, apparently we're leaving, and you two are out here playing dress up, I'm just fine thanks. And you?” As Clay started to reply, a loud cry came from inside the house. Karen rolled her eyes as she turned and slammed the garage door.

  “Well, that certainly wasn't the homecoming I was expecting.” Clay said as he turned to look at his brother.

  “Don't worry about her, she’s just a little nervous about all this.”

  “Yeah I know, I bet Ashley is in the same shape right now worrying about me.”

  “Hey, do you guys still have that ham radio I got you for Christmas last year? Maybe she's got it on waiting for you to call.” Hank said with a hint of excitement in his voice.

  “Shit, Hank, I didn't even think about that! It's all inside a faraday cage. Did you buy an extra car battery and inverter to power yours?”

  “Yeah, it's all set up down in the basement.” With that, they
both headed for the door.

  “This radio is fried,” Clay said, clearly frustrated with the situation.

  “Why didn't you just build the damn cage for this shit when I asked you to Hank?”

  “Cause I didn't think any of this would ever happen,” Hank shot back while waving his hands around indicating their current situation. Clay stood and headed for the stairs,

  “I need to get some sleep. Wake me up in 4 hours. We'll leave then." He called over his shoulder.

  "I'd prefer it if we left now, the sooner the better in fact. You can sleep in the car." Hank protested. Clay stopped on the third stair and turned around

  "It doesn't look good out there and I'll be of no use to you if I'm sleeping. Plus, I know how you drive, I'll never get any rest. Wake me in four hours." he said, turning and continuing up the stairs.