The Fall of Polite

by Sam Kench

  The boiled man stood beneath the hatch and fired a fully automatic rifle up at her.

  Maria tipped over and scrambled away from the hatch. Bullets punched through the floor below her and out through the roof above. Crooked shafts of light pervaded the dark interior. The attic looked like the hull of a warship that would be well past the point of sinking.

  The gunfire stopped. That means he’s climbing, Maria thought. She moved towards the attic window, keeping an eye behind her. A burnt face lifted through the hatch. Crouch walking backwards under the low ceiling, Maria lifted the revolver and fired. The disfigured bodybuilder ducked back down and hung off the ladder. She squeezed the trigger again to keep him at bay, but found the gun empty. She threw it toward the hatch and covered the rest of the distance to the small hexagonal window.

  She looked down. The drop appeared further than she had anticipated. She knew she would surely break at least one leg, if not both of them, if she fell straight down.

  She looked to her left. The roof over the living room was slanted, and there was a tall snow drift at the far end of the driveway. She threw the double barrel and watched it slide along the roof to the left and land semi-gently atop the snow drift.

  The boiled face rose through the hatch once again. Maria squeezed herself through the hexagonal window and took a single deep breath. She made a fist around the rifle strap on her shoulder and threw herself as far as she could to the left. Her feet hit the icy roof and immediately slipped out from underneath her. It was clear she wasn’t going to reach the snow drift as she slid feet first down the icy rooftop.

  ‘She’s outside!’ Boomed the boiled man from the attic, unable to squeeze through the window to follow. Maria sailed off the edge of the roof and crashed onto the top of her white pickup truck in the driveway. She rolled and fell off the side, crashing face first onto the slushy driveway.

  The sky darkened and the light snow that had been falling picked up speed and velocity. Her hands sliding through slush, Maria got to her feet, clutched her aching side, and pulled open the passenger side door of the pickup truck in front of her. She climbed halfway inside before noticing a man, younger than the others, sitting in the driver’s seat attempting to hotwire the vehicle. He looked as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

  ‘Shit,’ she murmured aloud as she slammed the door and stepped away from the vehicle. There were four other vehicles parked a half mile down the dirt road. Maria dug her hands into the snow and climbed to the top of the mound to retrieve her shotgun. She tumbled down the other side of the drift and commanded herself to, ‘Keep going.’

  She powered on, running across the road and past the tree-line. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the men begin to pour out of the house. She wondered if they saw which way she went, then her wonderings were invalidated as she witnessed the younger man exit the pickup truck and point directly at her.

  THE SKY WAS MENACING. The snow and wind continued to grow in speed and intensity until the weather reached the level of a full-blown blizzard. If the weather service were in working order they would have already declared whiteout conditions.

  Maria ran as fast as she could through the deep snow of the forest. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that they were following her a ways back. She could hear them shouting but couldn’t make out what there were saying.

  Every few feet she would slide, or the elevation would change beneath the deceptive snow. She slowed down to avoid tripping outright.

  Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her last two shotgun shells and attempted to reload. Her hands trembled and the gun bobbed up and down as she ran. The first shell slotted into a barrel, but the second knocked against the side of the gun and fell to the ground. ‘No!’ Maria said, louder than she intended. She made an abrupt attempt to stop in her tracks that resulted in her feet sliding across the slick ground ahead of her body. She slid down a small incline and landed on her back in the snow.

  Rolling over and scrambling back up the incline, she looked for the fallen shell. It was nowhere to be seen. She plunged her hand into the icy snow and felt around, her eyes glued to the horizon. She could see clearly for about 30 feet before the trees faded into a shifting white haze. Her hand scraped along the wet grass beneath the snow. She kept searching. A gunshot rang out from beyond her field of visibility. A muted orange flash shone through the white haze for an instant before all she could see was once again white. More yelling from the distance, something about not wasting ammo, Maria thought she heard.

  At last, her fingers found her missing cylinder in the cold. She tore her hand from the snow and got back to her feet. While stationary she loaded the shell into her shotgun and snapped it shut, then she turned and ran.

  HER BODY TREMBLED and her limbs pulsed as she sprinted. She could feel her heartbeat in her forearms. Her hands were especially shaky, not just from the cold but also out of fear and outright exhaustion. Another glance over her shoulder told her they were gaining on her. Bodies began to emerge from the white haze, shotguns and rifles clutched in front of their chests. They seemed to be navigating the forest with less difficulty than she was and her lead was quickly being diminished.

  Maria made a hard right turn in the direction she was pretty sure the town lay. In the forest she recognized that she had no chance of outrunning them, but on flat ground she might fare better. There’ll at least be better cover or a chance to hide, she told herself.

  Her muscles were tired and she had been fully out of breath for the last six minutes. Her body was in overdrive, and even if the weather were nice, she knew she wouldn’t be able to carry on running much longer without collapsing.

  She saw what looked to be the final tree before the end of the forest, but it was difficult to be sure with the blizzard in full effect. The pines gave way to white static. Her existence was grim and damp.

  ‘I see her!’ A voice called out from behind.

  ‘This way!’ yelled a second voice.

  Maria didn’t dare look back again. The terrain continued to get increasingly unpredictable as she neared the edge of the forest. She stumbled and fell to her hands and knees, then quickly got back up.

  There was a thunderous crack as a rifle bullet struck a tree and blasted away bark above her head. She stumbled and ran a few feet further before tripping again at the tree-line.

  She found herself at the top of a tall hill leading from the forest down into a runoff ditch. On the other end of the ditch, a steep hill rose back up to a guardrail, and although she couldn’t see it for the blizzard, she knew the town was just beyond that.

  Instead of standing back up, Maria clutched her guns tightly and tipped herself forward in a shoulder roll. She tumbled and slid through the thick snow with no control over her movements.

  A MEMORY CAME TO HER. She had been on this hill before… a Christmas they had spent at their aunt’s house… they were little… they were sledding… Dad had just bought them new sleds… a blue one for her, a red one for Mark… they all had hot cocoa together… their dad told them a story… what was it about?

  A GUNSHOT ECHOED through the forest and snapped Maria back to the present. Her mouth filled with snow as she came to a hard and sudden stop at the base of the hill. Had she just blacked out on the way down? She couldn’t be sure.

  She unburied her head and began climbing up toward the guardrail, sliding nearly a foot backwards for every two feet of progress. She looked to the forest; no one in sight yet, but another bullet found its way out past the trees. The hill got steeper toward the top and she began to slide further down.

  ‘There she is!’

  Maria didn’t need to look to know the forest border was no longer unoccupied. She dug her feet into the snowy hill, threw her shotgun onto the road and made a leap for the guardrail. Her hands caught the metal edge and gripped tightly.

  A small caliber bullet sparked against the metal beside her. She shut her eyes and threw herself over the guardrail, crashing down onto the icy snow
bank on the other side. Another bullet, this one a higher caliber, struck the guardrail and tore straight through the metal.

  With the blizzard raging, the road was quickly filling with snow, but the ground was considerably flatter than in the forest. Maria used the last of her energy to sprint across the road and into the town proper.

  Running on empty, she continued past the first couple of houses, knowing they would be searched first. Her footfalls were heavy, her chest hurt, and her throat struggled against the cold air intake. Breathing was becoming harder and harder. Her saliva tasted like blood and battery acid. Her body urged her to give up, but her mind said No.

  Without the trees standing guard against the snow, visibility was even worse in the town. She could only see ten feet clearly, and past 15 feet she could see nothing at all.

  With her run reduced to a speed barely above a stumbling fast-walk, Maria threw open the door of a bakery and collapsed to the floor. She pushed the door shut and crawled behind the counter.

  Catching her breath was a slow process and there was little she could do to quiet her ragged breathing. She looked up at baskets of moldy muffins and hoped the men chasing her would take their time searching the first few buildings.

  SHE DID AN AMMO COUNT; two shells in the shotgun, three in the pistol, two in the rifle. It took her some time to look the rifle over and figure out the workings of it. The bolt was confusing at first but her tactile reasoning picked up on the mechanism before long. Up and back to eject. Forward and down to ready the next shot. She knew the rifle was meant for long range but she didn’t trust her aim much, and the gun had no scope, not that one would do much good with visibility as it was.

  Lifting her jacket and shirt, she checked her side. It was badly bruised and tender to the touch, but nothing was broken.

  She was afraid to move. After resting on the floor behind the counter for a full 15 minutes, she heard chatter outside.

  The door opened and she listened closely to two pairs of boots making their way inside. ‘Yeah, you’re right.’ One voice said.

  ‘Okay. You want me to do it?’ A second voice replied.

  ‘No, no. I’ll do it. Keep searching.’

  A lone pair of footfalls continued across the bakery and toward the counter. Maria held her breath. She braced the shotgun against her shoulder and placed her finger on the trigger.

  A man came into view around the corner. He wore a full camouflage outfit and had a fully-automatic rifle in his hand balanced over his shoulder. He didn’t look at Maria, instead he continued straight, and entered the kitchen area of the bakery.

  Maria let out a silent breath of relief as she heard the back door open and close. She kept her gun raised and listened for the other man, but heard nothing.

  After she had held her breath for a straight minute, the man spoke, ‘Tim for Roy.’

  The voice came from the middle of the room. There was more silence, then a voice crackled back over the radio, ‘Go for Roy.’

  ‘We chased her to the town.’

  After a moment of silence, the voice spoke, ‘Say again, the blizzard’s-’ Static overpowered his speech but Tim got the gist.

  ‘We chased her to the town. We’ve taken heavy casualties. Over.’

  Static continued to break up Roy’s speech, ‘-ow many- ost?’

  ‘Five I think. A couple others wounded. We lost Toby, Liam, Josh, and uh, a couple others went down but I’m not sure if they’re dead or not. Uh, it’s pretty chaotic here. I’m wounded too… Do you copy?’

  Maria tried to remember how many men she had wounded without killing. This might be the boiled man, she guessed, but no, his voice wasn’t deep enough.

  ‘How many on their si-’

  Maria heard a shame filled sigh on the other side of the counter. ‘It’s just the girl. Over.’ He waited for a reply, but got only silence. ‘Sorry, Roy.’

  The voice returned ‘I-… ore-… eep- as- go- out- ility.’

  ‘I didn’t catch any of that, Roy. Can you repeat?’

  More static persisted, followed by ‘Sending backup- tower- doubt I’ll-… visibility.’

  A third voice from a different radio came through the speaker. ‘Don’t- end anyone else Ro- We can ta- care of h-’.

  Roy responded ‘The- on their-…’

  ‘Was that, they’re on their way, Roy? Can you confirm?’

  A single word came through static free, ‘Yes.’

  ‘Copy.’ Tim said and began walking again.

  Maria re-adjusted her grip on the shotgun as the footsteps neared the counter. Just as the first man had, Tim went straight past her and into the kitchen.

  Once he had disappeared into the room, Maria crouch walked behind him. The kitchen wasn’t very large. There were stainless steel cabinets along the walls, a metal table in the center, and an open door on the other end of the room.

  Maria moved slowly and quietly behind him. He was quite large, but he wasn’t the bodybuilder. She didn’t remember him, then noticed a piece of white cloth tied around his bicep, and realized he must’ve been the one she had shot reaching through the door.

  She knew a blast from the shotgun would give away her location. Tim circumvented the table and continued toward the back door. Maria set her shotgun down on the floor and quietly lifted a thin knife with a red handle off the center table. He was too tall for her to easily reach his neck. She hoped he wouldn’t make too much noise, as she snuck up behind him.

  Maria froze as Tim pressed the talk button on his radio. ‘Tim for Dick.’ Maria didn’t move. Tim took two last steps towards the door and settled within its frame.

  ‘Go for Dick.’ Crackled from the radio.

  ‘Already checked the first couple of buildings and the bakery on the East side of town. She’s not here. Where are you at?’

  ‘Headed toward-’ Static kept his location a secret, ‘-She’s probab- moving around.- gonna have- double check locations to- sure.’

  ‘Copy that.’

  As Tim released the talk button and lowered the radio toward his belt, Maria dragged the knife across the back of his knee, slicing cleanly through his pantleg like it was nothing. He let out a low grunt and dropped to his knees. Maria pulled out the knife. He was almost as tall on his knees as she was standing up.

  She grabbed tightly onto his hair and stuck the knife into his throat, removing his ability to alert the others. He clenched a massive fist and punched up over his shoulder.

  Maria felt a jackhammer impact her eye. She fell backwards, dragging the knife diagonally through his throat as she fell.

  Blood poured down his chest and side, and made the floor slick. He clamped a hand down on the wound, blood pumping between his fingers. He rose to a woozy standing position and took two jerky steps forward before collapsing dead on the kitchen floor.

  Maria’s eye stung. It began to swell immediately. She scooped her shotgun back up and peeked outside through the doorway. The blizzard nipped at her cheeks and stopped her from seeing even the next building over.

  She took Tim’s radio and clipped it onto her waistband. She felt surrounded, trapped, but hoped the radio might give her the slightest edge, so long as it didn’t give away her position with its crackling. She turned the volume down.

  A collapsible baton was the only weapon she found on his person. She threw it across the room angrily.

  An engine rumbled outside the bakery.

  Grabbing onto his jacket, Maria dragged the corpse away from the doorway using all her strength. She brushed a handful of snow from outside over his spilled blood and flattened herself against the wall. With her shotgun pointed toward the doorway, she waited. The radio at her waist crackled, ‘-ould be- town by now.’

  The engine got closer, then it got further away. A second engine came from the opposite direction.

  Maria ran out the door and into the blizzard. A cyclone of snow swirled in the street. She reached the next building, unable to tell whether it was an apartment or a business. The
wall was flat and made of orange brick.

  Hugging the wall, Maria moved around the corner and read the words “Brighton Souvenirs” painted on a glass storefront window. Snow assaulted her eyes. At least the cold might slow the swelling, she thought. The puttering of the engine continued behind her and seemed to be moving slowly in her direction. She tried the souvenir shop door; glass framed in green wood.

  The door opened and a bell above it chimed loudly. Maria cursed under her breath. Before her heart could hope that no one heard it, a voice from across the street in the white haze confirmed the opposite. ‘She went into the souvenir shop!’ The same words crackled from her radio.

  Maria started inside the shop, then stopped in her tracks and spun back around. A row of three metal newspaper dispensers sat on the sidewalk next to a telephone pole and Maria crouched down on the sidewalk behind them. She leveled her shotgun at the shop entrance and waited.

  A man moved quickly into her line of sight toward the shop, not quite running. Maria squeezed the trigger halfway, then stopped herself. She listened closely. No. Two sets of footsteps. She watched the man enter the shop and held her fire until a second man reached for the door. She fired into his back. The glass of the door shattered and he fell halfway through it, impaled by the glass shards clinging to the bottom of the frame.

  For a moment, the only sounds were the whistling of the wind and the wild flapping of an American flag hanging from a mount on the upper left corner of the building. Maria cocked the other barrel, her last shot, and aimed through the shattered door.

  A much louder sound took form. The glass store front shattered and a bullet ricocheted off one of the newspaper dispensers. The painted glass fell in massive shards to the icy sidewalk.

  Maria scrambled to the side. Another bullet struck the dispenser, this one closer to her. Staying low to the ground, Maria circled her newspaper-dispenser-cover and got behind it in the street. She peered between the metal dispensers and looked into the shop, but could see only blackness.