The Fall of Polite

by Sam Kench

  The rider finished searching the car quickly. He returned to his motorcycle, stepping over the dead driver, then rode off down the street back the way he had come, taking nothing with him.

  The next day Maria listened as the mob broke into the radio station and beat the broadcaster to death live over the air. No one had come to his aid. The station kept broadcasting after the mob left; only a low crackle emanated from the speakers. Maria listened another three hours to that crackle, hoping the broadcaster would turn out to be alive, say something, make a sound… but nothing. With a heavy, hopeless heart, she shut the radio off.

  IT WAS A SUNDAY EVENING when the lights flickered for the first time. The siblings had already been living in constant fear for over a month. Maria wore her pajamas and Mark wore a dirty sweatshirt and jeans. The siblings stood in the kitchen planning out the next week’s meals. They had both lost some weight, not much. They weren’t yet desperate for food. Their rationing had proven effective.

  The lights flickered, just briefly at first, then they stayed off. First a minute in darkness, then two. The Dubrek siblings held onto each other. A door slammed downstairs. Footsteps pounded up the narrow staircase. A young man excited to see the apocalypse happen within his lifetime hooted with glee. Then the pounding started on their kitchen door. Not so much knocking as a series of slams.

  ‘Hey, Mark, you in there?’ Buddy’s voice spoke through the kitchen door. ‘Maaarrrk?’ He crooned in a sing-songy voice.

  Mark looked at Maria’s silhouette in the dark, then took a step toward the door and cleared his throat. ‘What do you want, Buddy?’

  ‘Hey, hey, Mark! You are there!’

  Mark regretted saying anything at all. Maybe if he stayed quiet Buddy would have just left. But then again, maybe if he had stayed quiet, Buddy would've take that as an invitation to kick the door down and loot their apartment. Not that he probably felt he needed an invitation, Mark thought.

  ‘Hey Mark, did the power go out in your apartment too?’

  ‘Uh, yeah, it did.’

  ‘Oh, then you know what that means.’

  Mark looked again to Maria. He could see her faintly, an orange halo glowing around her from the last light of day clinging to the edges of darkening clouds. She shook her head, biting her lip. ‘What is- what does it mean?’ Mark asked.

  ‘How about you let me inside?’

  ‘What does it mean, Buddy?’

  ‘Open up the door and we’ll talk.’

  Maria grabbed Mark and made him look at her. She shook her head no sternly.

  ‘Come on, Mark. Let me in,’ Buddy said in a friendly voice.

  ‘Uh, no. You should go back down to your apartment.’ Mark’s voice cracked a little on the word apartment, and he heard a quiet chuckle from the other side of the door.

  ‘You don’t get it at all, do you, Mark? Unlock the door.’ Buddy waited. Mark didn’t reply. ‘You’re not gonna make me bust the door down, are you?’ Buddy slammed the door with his forearm.

  Maria stepped forward. ‘Go away!’ She shouted as commandingly as she could muster through the door.

  Buddy leaned in closer to the door, ‘Oh, you’re there too, Maria? Are you 18 yet? Wait, what am I saying? Don’t tell me. It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Go away, Buddy!’

  Buddy sighed. ‘Okay, here we go.’ Another pound struck the door; the loudest by far. The siblings both backed up a step in surprise. The door rattled in its frame with another pound.

  ‘Oh shit.’ Mark said under his breath as Buddy continued to ram the door.

  Maria spoke, ‘All right, we should-’

  The door flew open and the knob smashed through the kitchen window behind it. Cold air whistled its way through the broken glass as Buddy stumbled into their kitchen and into the side of their fridge. He let out an exaggerated whistle of relief and rubbed his shoulder. Maria put on an angry face to hide her fear and tried to play tough. ‘Get out of our apartment!’

  ‘Ha, you really don’t get it. This isn’t your apartment anymore.’ Buddy slid his body up against the fridge to a tall standing position. He was six-two and ripped. He stepped towards Maria, coming between her and Mark.

  ‘You can’t take our apartment,’ croaked Mark, pulling a less-than-convincing tough voice.

  ‘Oh, I’m not taking it.’ Buddy put a modest palm to the center of his hoody. He turned to face Mark and looked down at him.

  Mark felt far smaller and younger than he actually was.

  Buddy stepped towards him and Mark stepped away in response. ‘I can’t have your apartment, no one can. Not even you.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘The power going out is the last step. The power going out means there’s no chance of things ever going back to regular. Means anything goes now, means there are no rules and never will be again. And no rules means no consequences, now or ever. You followin’ me?’ Mark stood, trembling, which Buddy took to be a nod. ‘No one owns anything anymore. Sure you might be in this apartment… but it isn’t yours anymore.’ Buddy stepped slowly over to their counter with their food lined up on it. ‘All these things you think you own… you don’t.’ Buddy took a box of crackers and a Ziploc bag of cookies off their counter and tucked them under his arm. ‘The only things you can say are yours... well, that would be whatever you’re currently holding.’ Buddy took a glass off the counter and threw it at the floor. The siblings flinched away as the glass shattered and pieces of it slid across the kitchen to their feet. Buddy opened up a cabinet above the sink, glasses and mugs inside. He stuck his arm in and swept them all out, smashing them against the floor in large and small shards.

  Buddy snaked his way over to Maria, his boots crunching glass. She tried to back up but found herself already against the counter. He stepped against her. She limboed back over the counter to keep her upper half away, but he pinned her waist to the counter with his lower body. ‘You see, I might want to take the clothes right off your body,’ He leaned in toward her neck and put his strong hands on her waist. ‘But that would still be stealing. These clothes-’ he tugged at her waistband, ‘Are in your possession.’

  Maria’s tough mask had broken and fallen in shards to join the glass on the floor.

  ‘But you know the best part about this new world of ours? Maybe this is still stealing… but stealing isn’t wrong anymore.’ He tucked his thumb into her waistband and slid it around.

  Mark broke from his fear paralysis with a shout. ‘Stop it, Buddy!’ He stomped on the floor. He shrunk back down as soon as Buddy turned to face him. The neighbor stepped away from Maria and toward Mark.

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I- I said stop it.’ Mark tried to hold strong.

  Buddy let the food he had purloined drop to the floor. ‘Why? What are you gonna do if I don’t?’ He hoisted their microwave off the counter and slammed it against the floor between himself and Mark. The microwave landed on its corner and broke into several large pieces. Buddy stepped over the mess and backed Mark against the mirror hanging on their closed bathroom door.

  With his back turned to her, Maria slipped their largest kitchen knife out of the wooden block on the counter.

  ‘What are you gonna do Mark? I can do anything I want, and you're not gonna do a goddamn thing.’ Buddy glanced at Maria’s reflection in the mirror. She hid the knife behind her back.

  ‘Please, Buddy... Just leave us alone.’ Mark said softly.

  ‘Huh, “please?” Wow.’ Buddy chuckled.

  The lights flickered back to life. They dimmed again briefly, then stayed on. How long had they actually been out? Five minutes? Longer? Shorter?

  Buddy looked up at the kitchen light and nodded. ‘Well let there be light, eh?’ He nodded and backed away from Mark. ‘Okay then…. Yeah, sure.’ Buddy agreed with a question that nobody asked and continued nodding. ‘We can table this for now. Till the lights go back out that is. Since Maria felt the need to pull that knife and Mark felt the need t
o say “please”.’

  Buddy strode casually back to the door he had broken through, pulled it shut behind him, and sauntered down the stairs. The broken latch didn’t catch and the kitchen door drifted back open. Wind howled through the broken window, snowflakes sneaking inside and melting on the fake tile floor.

  ‘We need to get out of here right now.’

  ‘And go where, Maria?’

  She looked at Mark in disbelief. ‘You can’t be serious. You can’t honestly want to stay in the same house as that psycho!’ She carefully stepped over the glass and left the kitchen.

  Mark followed. ‘Of course I don’t want to stay in here with him. I’m honestly asking, where the hell do we go? There’s no way we’d make it to Aunt Kim’s.’

  Maria rubbed her forehead hard and shook her head. ‘We need to try! I don’t know. Maybe somewhere else. Maybe the school? They might have some kind of program or something? Or a- A hospital’s probably safe if we can get there. Or maybe we can just find a building somewhere? I mean if it is really that bad out there… then I guess it wouldn’t be wrong to just go into some empty building. We can bring our food with us. We can pack it in-‘

  ‘I know you’re not going to like this, Maria… but I think we should try to get to Anthony’s.’

  Maria sighed. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘I know you don’t really like him, but his Mom would definitely take us in. I’ve been texting him the last couple days, and he says nobody’s even tried to break in or anything over there.’

  Maria mulled it over. Not dismissing the idea, but not exactly welcoming it either. Mark walked back into the kitchen and Maria followed slowly. Glass crunched under Mark’s shoes as he crossed the kitchen and pushed the fridge in front of the broken door and window. He knew it wouldn’t hold Buddy, but it might slow him down.

  Mark furthered his case for Anthony Glandow as he pushed the fridge. ‘And you’ve got to admit, it would be good having someone like him on our side, you know, if we needed to defend ourselves.’

  ‘HELP!’ A scream came from outside as they argued. They ran to the kitchen window. Someone was banging on the door of the apartment across the street, a girl. ‘Someone, please!’

  She turned in their direction, blood across her face and chest, hard to tell how much at a distance. She crossed the street towards their apartment.

  ‘Oh no,’ Mark muttered. The girl stepped past the dead driver and continued past his car jutting out of the porch. She disappeared from sight onto their porch before they heard her call out for help again.

  They made their way quietly into the stairwell. Loud knocking at the door below them and another call for help broke up the silence.

  ‘Wait!’ Exclaimed Mark. He left the stairwell and returned with the Louisville Slugger.

  ‘I didn’t see anyone chasing her.’

  ‘Yeah, well maybe she’s dangerous. Maybe we should just wait for her to leave?’

  ‘We need to try and help her, Mark.’

  ‘We don’t need to.’

  ‘Are we shitty people, Mark? Are we awful, horrible people? What if that was me banging on some door, begging for help?’

  ‘... Okay.’

  They slowly made their way downstairs, Mark clutching the bat tightly. They took apart their small barricade and Maria opened the door. Mark stood ready with the bat like he was awaiting a pitch. The girl had given up and was about to move on when they opened the door; she was already half-way down the stairs. She spun to face them and flinched away when she saw the bat.

  Now that they got a closer look at her, they saw that the blood came from several small and large gashes all over her face, and chest. She wasn’t as young as Maria had thought from a distance, now she figured this mystery woman was actually a few years older than herself. Long brown hair. Thick, dark eyebrows. Her beauty was apparent even when obscured by all her wounds.

  ‘I- I- I’m not-’ She waved her hands non-threateningly in front of her. ‘I need help, I’m hurt. Please help me.’ She wore a badly ripped T-shirt that at one point read Weirs beach and a less badly ripped pair of jeans. No shoes on her feet only two mis-matched socks, one pink and one blue, soaking wet from the snow.

  Maria noticed a pile of frosted junk-mail on the porch beneath their overstuffed mailbox.

  Mark lowered his bat. They brought her inside and hastily re-assembled the barricade. At the doorway to the kitchen she stopped, looking down at the broken glass.

  ‘Oh, right.’ Maria said, and set about sweeping the glass out of the way They brought her into the bathroom and sat her down on the toilet lid. She looked longingly at their food, still lined across the counter, as she passed through the kitchen.

  ‘I’ll get those wounds cleared up, then I think we have some bandages somewhere. Is there someone after you?’ Maria asked as she wet a facecloth in the sink. Maria realized they should have filled the bathtub and maybe some other containers with water in case it got shut off. Now it didn’t matter since they were leaving soon.

  ‘No, I'm not being chased or anything.’ Her voice was husky, like a rock singer's after a passionate concert.

  ‘What happened to you?’ Mark asked, standing in the bathroom doorway.

  ‘There were a bunch of us in a van headed for Concord. We figured the capital would be safe, still organized or protected or whatever… and, well… the roads are rough out there. We got rammed through a guardrail and rolled into a tree. You know how it is out there. Chaos.’

  ‘Actually,’ Maria spoke as she knelt in front of her, ‘We haven’t been outside since it got bad.’ Maria gently pressed the wet facecloth against one of the gashes on the wounded woman’s face. She winced.

  ‘You didn’t kill that guy outside?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘That’s good to know.’ The woman nodded, clearly making a mental note. ‘Do you have a lot of food?’

  She asked the question up at Mark but he didn’t hear her. The woman’s bra was clearly visible through her torn T-shirt and Mark was staring. The blood wasn’t a deterrent. She noticed his gaze, Maria didn’t.

  ‘We don’t have a lot of food, but you can have some.’ Maria said as she stood up and handed the facecloth to the woman.

  ‘Thank you, that’s very nice of you.’

  Maria stepped past Mark into the kitchen. The woman pressed the facecloth to one of the wounds on her chest and winced, sucking in air loudly. ‘Could you help me with this?’ She held the facecloth out to Mark. He nervously took it and knelt down in front of her.

  She angled her bosom toward Mark. He pressed the facecloth to one of the wounds and looked down, into her bra. She tugged her shirt down lower, allowing him a clearer view without him noticing.

  Mark dabbed at the blood, then wiped gently. No more wincing from the woman. He rubbed more. The edge of the wound seemed to wipe away. No, not seemed… did. Makeup. Mark hadn’t been paying attention to her hands. The realization came slowly that her wounds were fake, makeup and Halloween blood. Suddenly her hand were back in front of her, having pulled a stiletto knife from her waistband. She pressed it to the underside of his chin and forced him backwards.

  Mark tipped off his knees and fell into the edge of sink, hitting his head on the corner.

  ‘Stand up!’ She shouted, her tone having changed entirely. She was louder, commanding, intimidating. Mark stood up and Maria spun around in the kitchen to see what was happening. The liar got behind Mark and held the point of her knife right against his Adam’s apple.

  Maria let out a few jumbled up words in confusion and stepped towards the bathroom.

  ‘Don’t take another god-damn step or I’ll ram this straight through his fucking throat!’ She wrapped Mark’s long hair around her hand and tightened her fist. She yanked down, baring his throat even more. Mark stumbled forward with an elbow to his back. The tip of the knife moved in tandem with his exposed throat. The liar yanked down on his hair until he was crouching. She stayed close behind, peering over his s
houlder at Maria.

  ‘What are you doing?!’ Maria exclaimed.

  ‘Shut up! Give me your food! All of it! Stuff it into a bag!’

  Maria stood still.

  ‘Do it!’ She spoke with confidence, a steady tambour.

  Maria took a trash bag out from under the kitchen sink and slowly put every last bit of their food into it.

  ‘All right, now hand it to me. Slowly.’

  Maria held the bag out slowly. The liar snatched it, letting go of Mark's hair but keeping the blade to his throat, not losing control over him for a second. He shut his eyes tight, feeling powerless, emasculated.

  ‘What size shoe do you wear?’ She fired the question at Maria.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your shoe size, bitch, what is it?’

  ‘Uh, 7 or 8, depending on the-’

  ‘Take ‘em off.’

  Maria hesitated.

  ‘Now!’ She screamed. Maria pulled her shoes off. The liar made her put them into the trash bag.

  ‘Do you have any guns in here?’

  Maria shook her head. The sound of a thundering explosion across town caught them all off guard, the liar included. The floor seemed to shake under their feet. The lights flashed rapidly before shutting off. One of the overhead kitchen lightbulbs popped loudly.

  The liar swore under her breath and gave Mark a hard shove. He fell forward into Maria and by the time he turned around, the woman was off down the hallway and leaving down their stairwell with the bag. The darkness called downstairs to their neighbor. Before the Dubrek siblings were back on their feet, Buddy had already thrown his whole body against their kitchen door and began to force his way past the fridge.

  Maria immediately pulled the longest blade from their knife-block. ‘Mark!’ She yelled.

  Mark ran to brace himself against the fridge but he was too late, Buddy had already forced the door halfway open and slipped inside. Mark skittered to a stop in the middle of the room.

  ‘I brought my axe this time!’ Buddy shouted gleefully. He ran straight past Mark toward Maria.

  ‘Mark!’ Maria screamed with a wavering voice as she backed away from the storming neighbor. She held her knife up as he approached. Thoughts of turning tail and running down the hall to the stairs, following the liar’s escape route, filled her mind, but she couldn’t leave Mark alone with Buddy. She shuffled further backwards and her freshly bared foot came down onto the swept up pile of glass. She let out a squeak of pain, but tried to ignore it and keep her focus on Buddy.