by Vince Byrd
“Lay the pistol on the ground and walk away,” Paige warned, “Both of you.”
Mojo looked at RJ and smiled. RJ nodded. Paige knew that they were not going away easy. “I’m warning you, man. You do not want to die today,” she urged.
The smile fell from the Mojo’s face. “They slammed into the back of my boss’s car. I was just trying to get some compensation,” he argued. “My boss is not too forgiving.”
“Neither am I. Put it on the ground!” she demanded.
He slowly squatted down, placed the pistol on the pavement, and stood back up. Ethan sat Paige’s backpack down and stepped out from behind Paige. He walked over and picked up the man’s gun. When Ethan rose up Mojo grabbed him, snatching the gun out of his hand. Quickly wrapping his arm around Ethan’s throat, Mojo jammed the gun to the side of his head.
Paige reacted and fired a shot at the man. The girl beside her father screamed at the sudden loud pop that echoed against the trees. Both Ethan and Mojo fell to the ground with the pistol hitting the asphalt and sliding under a car. RJ quickly turned and ran off. “Ethan!” Paige called.
Ethan pushed away from the man and said in astonishment, “I can’t believe you shot me.”
Paige rushed over to him and examined his wound. His shirt was torn, and he had a scratch on his shoulder that barely oozed blood. “It’s just a graze. Thank God!” she sighed.
“Oh, help me! I need a doctor,” Mojo cried out.
Ethan stood up, rotating his hurt arm all around. Paige handed him the gun and said, “Hold this on him, and I’ll check and see how bad the damage is.”
“Don’t let him grab you,” Ethan warned.
“I don’t think he’ll be grabbing anyone any time soon,” she declared. The man was lying on his back holding his right armpit and whining about the pain. “Be still, or he’ll shoot you again.” She squatted down beside him and checked his pit. “It’s not that bad, but it is a little deep. It will need some stitches. Keep pressure on it until the bleeding stops, and you better find a doctor to stitch you up.”
“You’re not going to help me, but you shot me?” he complained.
“After what you two were going to do, no, you’re on your own,” she answered.
“We weren’t going to hurt her. I was trying to get her necklace for payment and her dress got torn, please,” he pleaded.
“That’s not what it looked like,” Paige claimed as she stood up.
The girl’s dad came to, and he and his daughter got up and started walking away. The girl turned to Paige and said, “Thank you.” Paige nodded to her, and then the two walked away down the highway toward Destin.
“I’m glad you came with me. I thought you were going to leave for second,” Paige commented.
“I wasn’t going to let you get shot by a psychopath,” Ethan said, turning back to look at the Mojo. He was still holding his armpit, lying on the ground.
Paige took her pistol back from Ethan, retrieved the man’s gun from under the nearby car, and suggested, “Let’s go catch up to your mom and dad.” She picked up her backpack, put it on, and walked in the direction they were traveling. Ethan followed.
“You were so fierce back there,” Ethan said.
“I was scared to death. I was hoping he didn’t see my hand shaking while holding the gun up. When he grabbed you, I didn’t think. I just aimed and pulled the trigger. I thought for a second that I’d shot you in the wrong place and killed you. I could see the headlines now, ‘Girlfriend Kills Boyfriend Trying to Save Him from a Robber.’ I was actually trying to shoot him in the arm,” she admitted.
“I’m glad it was only a scratch, and you saved the girl, but you didn’t think, ‘Oh, my darling, Ethan? I’m so sorry! I love you so much!’ Instead you think of getting arrested and the headlines for shooting me. Who are you? I thought I knew you,” he ranted.
“Ethan, come on. It was a tense moment. I can’t help what goes through my mind in a situation like that.”
“Obviously, it wasn’t that you love me.”
“You are always pushing me to say that I love you. I’m sorry, Ethan, but you have self-esteem and confidence issues that get in your way and between us,” she retorted.
“Fine! Maybe we should just break up then!” he barked.
“If that’s what you want, then make it official,” she dared. “This wasn’t even about you anyway. It was about the girl in trouble. Why are you making this all about you? Because I didn’t pine over you when I shot you, or because I didn’t leave with you when you cowered away?” Ethan didn’t respond to her. “Well?” she demanded.
Ethan stopped and looked at her, “You think I’m a coward now? Wow, I don’t have a chance, do I?”
“Ethan, can we just find your parents?” Silence filled the space between them as they walked on and met up with David and Emily. They found the two standing behind a stalled semi-truck a quarter mile up the road waiting for them.
Emily hugged her son tight and said, “I heard another gun shot and thought…Oh, I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, Mom,” he responded.
Emily hugged Paige, “You too, honey. I’m glad you both are all right. What about the girl?”
“She and her dad will be okay. They went the other way, and we took the guy’s gun away,” Paige said, as she pulled out the .38 Special Smith & Wesson revolver with a nickel-plated, three-inch barrel and a pearl handle from her bag.
“May I?” David asked, holding out his hand.
Paige handed the pistol to him and offered, “You can keep it; I have mine. I know you just wanted us to be safe.”
David held the gun down and flipped out the cylinder, checking the bullets. He saw that three of the six were fired and rotated the cylinder to a live round and then pushed it back in until it clicked. “That was a dangerous move. I’m glad it worked out.” He shoved the gun into his front waistline and pulled his brown sweater over it. “Maybe we’ll find a hotel somewhere up the road.”
“Dad, what about Bud’s place? It’s not far, and we can use his landline. At least we wouldn’t be stranded on the road,” Ethan suggested.
“I guess we don’t have choice at this point. There is nothing around here. What did he say his address was?” David asked.
“He said to go left at the next exit, and his mailbox is marked Smith,” Ethan informed.
People were starting to gather in groups and discuss scenarios of what had happened to their vehicles. Several had their hoods up and were fiddling with things in the engine compartment, in hopes of finding a solution. Some were sitting in the grass on the side of the highway or on the median. Whole families gathered outside their cars and waited for someone or something to come along and fix their problem. People continuously checked their cellphones without any luck. Vehicles of all colors, sizes, and years had stalled as far as the eye could see, spread out up and down the highway.
“Hey! What do you think is wrong with our cars?” a woman’s voice sounded from behind. Ethan, Paige, Emily, and David turned and saw an African American woman in her late twenties standing behind her opened car door.
“I’m not sure. It was suggested that an EMP had been set off,” David answered.
“An EMP, what’s that?” she asked.
“I think it stands for electric magnetic pulse or electromagnetic pulse, something like that. It knocks out all electronics, or so I’m told,” David explained.
“Why? Who would do that here?” she inquired. She walked up to them wearing blue high heels and a slim-fitting, blue and black-striped dress with a matching faux fur jacket and clutch handbag. “I’m Makayla Williams.” She was thin and average height with her three-inch heels. Her hair, which hung down to the middle of her back, was wavy and light brown. And, her eyes were an even a lighter brown.
Paige noticed Ethan checking her out, but how co
uld she blame him; the woman was a knockout, and those eyes of hers were almost dreamy.
“I was on my way home from my boss’ wedding when my car just stopped. I’m not sure what to do. My phone died, and I can’t call anyone. I’m by myself. I was hoping to get some help. Could I use one of your phones, please?” Makayla asked.
“I’m sorry; but we don’t have any help to offer. Our phones are all dead as well, and we’re in the same boat,” David admitted. “Apparently, this EMP has wiped out this whole area—phones, cars, and who knows what else. We’re on our way to the next exit.”
“Do you mind if I tag along with you? I’d feel safer around other women. I heard gunshots earlier when I was sitting in my car,” she asked.
“Sure, honey, you can come along. I’m Emily,” she said, reaching out to shake Makayla’s hand. “This is my husband David, my son Ethan, and his girlfriend Paige.”
Makayla shook her hand and said, “Nice to meet you all and thank you.”
Maneuvering in and around traffic and over the grass in the median, a 1968 Green Chevy Malibu with tinted windows slowly drove by them. “Hey, stop!” David shouted waving his arms. The car was mobbed by several travelers pounding the glass, asking the driver to stop, but he kept rolling. Someone threw their half-full soda cup at the windshield of the Malibu, splashing the brown liquid all over it. The wipers came on, but it still did not stop, driving out of sight.
Six
Jesse Day 6
The go-carts stopped side by side, facing Jesse several yards behind the older man, and the two drivers held up automatic shotguns pointed at him. The drivers were wearing full-face helmets with tinted shields and he could not see their faces. They were of small stature, so he assumed they were young boys. “These are my granddaughters, and they will shoot you if you try anything, Jesse,” the man warned.
“We just want to get around so we can be on our way,” Jesse answered. “I’m not going to try anything.”
“See that you don’t. I’m Stan, this is Jenny and that’s Jenna,” the man said, pointing at each driver as he introduced them. “All that land you see over there that this plane plowed through is my farm. We had a couple of men a few days ago come by and try to steal from us. They wanted to take the luggage off this plane. We ran them off and posted guards. Are you with that group?”
“No, sir. We had trouble with a group back in…” Jesse’s sentence was cut off by a station wagon roaring up as a hail of bullets pummeled the side of their truck. Jesse ducked down, pulled his pistol, and fired off a couple of rounds. He turned to look back at the truck.
“Go!” Stan shouted at Jenny and Jenna, pointing toward the woods. They both punched the gas and took off toward the tree line at the edge of the highway.
Glass fell onto Ava from the passenger side window shattering, and a bullet hole appeared in the windshield as tiny cracks fingered away from it. Kat dropped the truck into drive and stomped the gas pedal to get to Jesse. Ginger and Larry returned fire at the car and held on as Kat peeled off. She pulled up in front of Jesse and Stan, and slammed on the brakes. “Get in!” she shouted. Jesse climbed into the bed of the truck and helped Stan up after him. A spiraling piece of lead ripped through Stan’s thigh as they both fell into the back of the truck.
“Head for cover!” Jesse shouted to Kat as he checked Stan’s wound. Kat drove the truck up to the plane and behind the left wing. Some of the men took cover at the front of the plane, others by the wing and tail. Rounds pecked the side of the plane’s metal shell, sounding like large rain drops on a tin roof. They began to fire at the station wagon, hitting both front and back tires and causing the car to stop. The driver opened the door and was hammered with shotgun pellets and rifle shots as he fell to the ground, his life extinguished.
Stan’s femoral artery was severed as the hollow point exploded through his flesh. Jesse tried to stop the bleeding, but Stan bled out within minutes, filling the floor of the truck bed red with his blood. The sound of war settled for a moment as everyone held their fire and waited to see if the other shooter was still alive. One of the men came up to the truck and said, “Dad?” He looked like a younger version of Stan. When he saw his dad lying there dead, he pointed his gun at Jesse.
“Whoa! We’re not with those guys. Stan’s femoral artery was hit by the shooters. I tried to stop the bleeding, but there was nothing I could do,” Jesse explained. “It was just too fast.”
The man dropped his gun to his side, rubbing his forehead and face with his left hand. The other men started to emerge from cover as they began to gather around the truck. “We need to make sure the other shooter is dead,” Jesse called as he hopped over the side followed by Ginger and Larry.
“I’ll go,” the man volunteered as anger welled up in him.
“I’ll go with you,” Jesse added. The two approached the car with caution, their guns raised and ready for an assault. Once at the car, they found the driver dead and another man in the way-back also deceased. Jesse pushed the man in the back over to see his face. “It’s Junior.”
“Who’s Junior?” the man asked.
“Stan said you had a run-in with some of his men earlier this week. They had the whole town of Amherst captive when we came through. Preyed on the women and killed anyone who stood up against them. This one got away from us; he was the leader. I thought we had dispatched the rest of his ring,” Jesse revealed. “I’m sorry about your dad. He seemed like a good man.”
“He was. Mom’s going to be devastated, and my girls.” He turned and whistled loudly. Jenna and Jenny came driving out of the woods in their go-carts. “I’m Brian,” he said.
“Jesse,” he introduced himself, as they walked back to the truck. “It was Junior,” he told Kat, Ginger, and Larry. “He’s dead.”
“That bastard! It’s about time,” Ginger snarled.
Jenna and Jenny got off their go-carts and pulled off their helmets. They were identical twins with short brown hair, heart-shaped faces, and several freckles sprinkled across their noses. Brian noticed his dad’s blood running from underneath the tailgate; it splashed on the bumper before dripping to the ground. “Stop!” Brian exclaimed. He didn’t want them to see their granddad all bloody and dead in the back of the truck. He touched each of them on the shoulder, “Pappy’s gone, girls.” He choked up, “He was shot in the leg and bled to death.” He drew them into a hug as they cried into his chest.
Everyone was silent for several minutes as the two groups mourned with the twins, sobbing over their beloved Pappy. For Kat, it brought back bad memories of the losses of the prior week. Ginger was reminded of the countless innocents that were slain by one man’s insanity. Larry realized again how precious life was and how quickly it could be snuffed out. Ava’s heart ached for the twins as she thought of her dad, and felt her loss all over again. And, Jesse was moved in his spirit knowing their pain also. He missed his friend Henry; he had always known exactly what to say, and how to bring comfort.
Kat wiped her eyes as Jesse stepped up and embraced her. “Are you alright?” he whispered.
“Yeah, we’re survivors, right?” she quietly questioned.
“Yes, we’re survivors,” he agreed and hugged her tighter.
Brian took his jacket off and covered his dad’s face. “Jesse, can you bring my dad’s body to my house so we can prepare him for a funeral?” he asked.
Jesse released Kat. “That’s not a problem, Brian, but after that, we need to get back on the road,” he answered.
“Of course,” Brian affirmed.
“Where are all the people that were on this plane?” Larry asked the group, looking around at them.
“We set up a shelter at the local elementary school. We used Stan’s Ford tractor, and his hay wagon to transport them. We could only carry about thirty at a time,” a younger man responded from the group.
“How many passengers were
there?” Kat asked.
“Three hundred and sixty-seven, it took us a while to move them all. We’ve been hauling the luggage all week seems like, on top of getting food and water to them.”
“Were there any injured? And, your name is…,” Jesse asked.
“Thomas. Yes, there were some people with sprains, a few hit their heads, but none were too bad. A hundred or so left on foot Monday and about a hundred more left Wednesday, once they got their bags. Now, our food and water are running low, and people are not willing to share so easily,” Thomas replied.
“Did the National Guard roll through here?” Jesse inquired.
“No, we never saw them,” Brian cut in, curious as to why he asked. He motioned for his girls to sit down on their go-carts, and they obeyed his gesture.
Jesse knowingly looked at Kat, and she said, “You have to tell them.”
“Tell us what?” Brian probed.
“Did you see the colorful lights that lit up the sky Sunday night?” Jesse asked.
“We all did. Do you know what that was?” Thomas asked.
Jesse proceeded to explain to them all the knowledge he had received from Albert Goosens, what they had learned about solar storms, and the devastation that wrought havoc on the west coast. He told them how California was claimed by the ocean from the meteors and the tsunamis. He informed them that the info was straight from the top, presidential appointed military messengers. He thought they took it about as well as anyone could, hearing that the world would never be the same again. He continued to share with them that the power might be off for months or even years; the banks would shut down, if they hadn’t already, and food would become the most valuable commodity in a very short period of time.
Seven
Paige Day 1
