Earth's Survivors Apocalypse

by Unknown

  The wolves were all around, pulled from their wanderings by the sound of the wreck and the smell of the living. Billy shifted Beth's weight more fully onto his shoulder, and lifted the gun. Before he could fire the truck blew up behind him and he felt himself pushed by the blast out into the street where he struggled to stay on his feet. A warm rush or air moved rapidly past him and Billy got his feet moving only a second later.

  The wolves scattered. They made an odd whining sound, a sort of strangled scream as they fled from the noise.

  Billy ran as the wolves slowly disappeared into the hiding paces they had stumbled from. An SUV loomed out of the darkness, illuminated by the flames and the moonlight. Dusty, sitting in the driveway of a house three houses over from the one they had plowed into. A second later and Billy had the door open and Beth tumbled inside onto the passenger seat. He ran around the car to the other side and fired a quick burst at three wolves that came from the side of the garage and started toward him, claws scrabbling and clicking at the pavement as they ran at him. They all three went down, but two were back up again almost as quickly as they had gone down. And running back alongside the garage into the shadows. He got the handle open and jumped into the car pulling the door shut behind him.

  He sat, his breath coming in ragged gasps and pulls. His lungs hurt, there was a stitch in his side and his heart felt like it just might explode at any second. He looked over at Beth, but her head was rocked back against the seat back. A sob escaped his throat, but he bit down on it, and breathing hard, checked the ignition.

  No keys, but that was what he had expected. What he hoped for was gas. The car should start, the gas was the important thing. He reached to the floorboards for his knapsack and a screwdriver to jimmy the ignition and that was when he realized he had nothing to get the truck started with. All he needed was a screwdriver to hammer into the ignition, pop the cylinder, and then start it, but he had neither the screwdriver nor a way to get it into the ignition in the first place. He fisted his hands and slammed them against the wheel. His head sank onto his hands.

  “Smash it,” Beth said. It was not much more than a whisper, but it bought Billy's head up fast. Outside the truck the wolves were gathering, slinking from the darkness. He could hear them whining, snarling, see their pink tongues lolling. Just three or four, but they could smell them, and it wouldn't be long until more showed up. He focused on her face which was ashen and blood slicked, unsure if she had really even spoken. She turned her face to him, eyes heavy lidded, unfocused. “Smash it, Billy... Rock... Rocks by the driveway... Saw them... Smash it.” Her head sank down to the dashboard and stayed there. A trickle of blood ran across the dusty plastic and rolled toward the edge of the dash before it slipped over the edge and continued down into darkness.

  “Jesus, Beth. You're hurt bad, Beth.”

  “Billy... Billy shut up, and get a rock... Get it, Billy. Stop whining, get the fuckin' rock.” Beth told him. Her words were muffled, whether from the effort or the position she was in he couldn't tell. He picked up the rifle by the barrel and looked through the glass at the wolves that were trying to figure out a way into the truck. He waited for the one near the drivers' door to slip backwards along the side of the SUV and then he threw the door open and jumped from the truck.

  He landed bad, on the very same rocks Beth had been talking about, and nearly went all the way down before he caught himself and slammed his knee into the pavement to stop himself. He had been unable to close the door as his ankle twisted and he fell away. The one that had just slipped past the door was already turning to get inside. He couldn't shoot, if he did he might hit Beth. He launched himself at the mangy back instead, and hooked his fingers into its fur yanking it backwards and to the ground. They were both snarling, he realized a moment later when he shot it in the head.

  A second one came around the back of the SUV. Billy took two steps and shot it in the head. The third was on the opposite side of the truck and seemed frozen, unsure what to do. Billy turned, picked up a large rock, and tried to step back into the truck. The ankle collapsed and he went sprawling, losing the rock, barely holding onto the rifle as he once again slammed his knee into the ground to stop himself from planting his face on the steel door sill of the car. The wolf on the other side made up her mind, crouched low, and then sprang to the roof of the car. Billy heard the metal buckle as she landed.

  A second later he forced himself to his feet, adrenalin flooding his body, leaving that sour electric taste in his mouth as it did. The wolf stood to her full height once more, nothing but tightly stretched fur and protruding bones, but determined to have him. She angled her head down at him and howled, ending in a deep guttural growl. Billy raised the rifle and shot her under the chin. She collapsed on the barrel and he turned as she spilled past him and collapsed onto the pavement behind him, breathing heavy, whining. Billy took two shambling steps of his own, ankle and knee screaming, pain so hard that it made him stop and double up. He vomited, losing control for a brief instant. The pain was so hot. A second after that the adrenalin kicked back in and he finished his shambling travel, managed to stoop and pick up another large rock and get back inside the SUV. He slammed the door on the snout of another wolf that had come out of the darkness. He heard the bones snap, and the wolf howled in pain, falling away as the door thudded home. Billy collapsed against the steering wheel. He couldn't seem to catch his breath. He waited for his heart to slow down.

  The wolves seemed to be everywhere when he lifted his eyes a few seconds later. One was inches away, staring into his own eyes through the glass. Dozens of others slunk about as if waiting to be told what to do. His heart staggered once more, and the rifle was coming up before he realized he could do nothing. He lowered the gun and raised the rock that was still clutched in one hand. He smashed it down on the cheap plastic that surrounded the ignition built into the side of the steering column.

  Outside the wolves went crazy. To Billy it was as if they knew he was about to escape. The one next to the window stepped back and cocked it's head. Billy looked back at the column, smashed the rock down again and the pieces of the ignition fell to the floorboards of the SUV. A splinter of plastic cut his hand as he jammed his fingers into the opening and pushed down into the hole the cylinder had once occupied. It took a second to find what he was searching for, but once he found it his finger pressed down and the motor began to turn over. At nearly the same time the wolf dropped from sight outside the window.

  The motor coughed to life just as the wolf launched itself at the driver window and smashed hard into the glass. Billy let out an involuntary scream as the wolf's claws skittered across the glass and then the wolf's body shot across the hood. The wolf howled its frustration as it disappeared over the edge of the hood, teeth bared, snarling. Billy slammed his hand forward, caught the shift lever and yanked it down into reverse. His foot was already mashing the gas pedal down, the engine was revving and so when the wolf got back to its feet for yet another attack, Billy spun the wheel, and the SUV began to race backwards, turning as it went. The wolf and several behind it flew away from the side of the car, the wheels hopped as it bounced over them and then caught. The car rocketed out into the street. Billy locked the brakes up to get it stopped and nearly stalled it as it ground to a stop. A second later he dropped it into drive and plowed through a group of a dozen or more wolves as he fumbled for the headlight switch and roared off down the road.

  The wolves flew up over the hood. One smashed into the glass hard enough to spiderweb it as it hit and then tumbled over the roof. He could hear them bumping as they slammed into the roof and the sides of the truck, falling away into the night behind them. A few seconds later and all he could hear was the scream of the motor as he accelerated down the street. He forced himself to slow down so he didn't wreck. Beth was holding onto the dashboard in a death grip.

  The truck left the pavement and flew out into the desert once more. Billy mashed down the pedal a little more and began to put some
space between themselves and the housing project. He reached over and pulled Beth away from the dashboard. She rocked back into the seat, her eyes closed, blood running from under her hairline and slicking her face.

  New York: Harlem

  Madison and Cammy

  “What I care about is how it goes,” Madison said. “Things are goddamn crazy...” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Cammy, these guys intend to run things here... Right here!”

  “Never happen,” Cammy said. Her eyes slid past Madison and found Dollar where he stood with the curtains barely opened, looking out into the street, one gun stuffed into the back of his jeans, the other out and in his hand where he flicked the safety on and off, on and off as he peeked through the curtains at every new gunshot. There had been running gunfights most of the day. He was crazy, and getting crazier as the time rolled by.

  “I know. Which is why we need to go. When it fails, they'll come here and kill all of us,” she whispered.

  Dollar's head suddenly appeared over Cammy's shoulder. “And what are you bitches whispering about?” His eyes were wild. He had access to as much cocaine as he wanted, and he had been shoveling it in for the last few days, unsure of how much he wanted, how much his body could handle, where to draw the line, or even if there was a line he should draw. He scared the hell out of Madison, and it took a lot to scare Madison.

  “Shit women talk about,” Madison spat. She pushed Cammy away, got up and got right in Dollar's face. “We need shit, and I already told you, I'm going to get it.”

  “Go and I'll shoot you dead,” Dollar said. He waved the gun in her face.

  “You know what, I don't think you will,” Madison bluffed. “And, anyway, we're not leaving, we're just going to get some things... lady things... then we'll be back. You really gonna kill me over some shit like that?”

  “What things?”

  “Tampons.”

  “Oh, Jesus,” Dollar said.

  Madison laughed.

  “I don't want to hear that shit. That's woman’s shit. I don't want to hear it at all.”

  “Yeah, dipshit. I tried to tell you that, but you wouldn't let us go, and now it's critical... Crit-it-cal! So, unless you want us bleeding all over the place.” She was still in his face, inches away.

  Dollar stared at her. “I can't fucking believe you said that. That's... that's way too much information.” He spun quickly toward the front windows as the crash of nearby gunfire broke the silence of the street. “You go out there, you'll get killed.”

  “Yeah, well, we'll go the back way. Either way, we're going,” Madison said. Her hand moved fast, fished the pistol that was jammed into the back of his pants - behind the belt - out, and then stepped back away before Dollar realized what had happened and spun around.

  “And I said...” Dollar started as he turned around. “Wow.” He froze and stared at the gun that had appeared in Madison's hand like so much magic. “Now why did you take my gun?” he asked. His empty hand felt along the back of his jeans where he was sure the gun had come from. He stuffed the gun in his hand into the waistband of his jeans, this time in front. Madison laughed.

  “That is not the question you should be asking,” Madison said.

  “No? Then what is the question I should be asking, Bitch?” Dollar asked. He began to walk towards her. “I bet you ain't got no period either... neither of you. Just said that to keep me away, I bet.”

  Madison laughed. “Well, you're right, but that isn't where we were in this conversation. Where we were was the question. You...” She pulled the slide back on the Automatic, chambering a round. “...should...” Her thumb swept downward and clicked the safety off, “...be asking me the question, and you're not.”

  Dollar stopped in his tracks. “Don't fuck around, girl. That ain't no toy.”

  “The question, you dumb fuck! The question,” Madison screamed. She pushed the pistol into his face.

  “Okay! Okay! The fucking question... The fucking question...” Dollar shrank back, but bumped into the wall and stopped. “I don't know the question. I don't know it.”

  “Will she do it?” Madison said. “Will the crazy bitch shoot me?”

  Dollar's eyes squinted. Madison waved the gun up and down. His hand darted for his own gun where he had stuffed it into the front waistband of his jeans.

  “Yes she will,” Madison yelled as she fired. Dollar was falling before she finished yelling her answer. A second later, as Dollar gasped for air, laying on his side, his knees drawn up, a sucking sound coming from the hole in his chest, Madison reached down, caught Cammy's hand, and they both fled toward the back of the apartment, and the door that lead into the alleyway.

  New York: Old Towne

  Conner and Katie

  Early morning darkness held the road that fronted the factory. The moonlight, sparse, reflected off the rapids of the Hudson river.

  A shadow moved by one of the pickup trucks. Another moved by the Suburban. The sound of sand gritting beneath the sole of a shoe came clearly in the shadowy darkness. The door of the pickup squealed loudly as it was carefully opened. The shadow paused looking towards the Suburban. The shadow there appeared to be fighting with the door to no avail. The shadow next to the pickup gestured quickly with both hands, and the shadow next to the Suburban gave up on the door, crossed to the pickup and quickly climbed inside. Once they were both inside, silence returned to the small patch of asphalt that fronted the factory. A few seconds later the pickup roared to life. The headlights snapped on, the wheels turned hard left and the driver launched the truck down what was left of the shattered roadway.

  Voices were raised in alarm from inside the factory, and within just a few moments everyone inside was outside. Lydia, gun in hand, unloaded a full clip at the fleeing pickup truck. Both Jake and Conner snapped off a single shot, more in startled response to Lydia’s shots than with any real hope of hitting the retreating pickup truck.

  “Jesus,” Lydia said breathlessly. “They stole our truck!” She turned and looked at Conner with wide, frightened eyes. “They stole our goddamn truck,” She repeated. “How could they steal our truck?”

  Jake headed for the suburban and pulled the keys from his pocket, preparing to unlock the door.

  “Jake,” Conner called. “Where are you going, Man?”

  “That’s our goddamn truck. I’m going to get it.” His eyes were wild, the truck keys in one hand, a pistol in the other: No shirt, sock-less shoes; laces trailing.

  “It’s an old truck, Man,” Conner said.

  “It’s my old truck,” Jake said defensively. “And if I catch that fucker…”

  “Fuckers,” Lydia said.

  “Huh?” Jake asked.

  “Fuckers, as in I saw two heads. Two of them. Not one,” Lydia said. Her voice held a breathless, excited quality to it that Conner didn’t like. She was dressed in jeans and a thin T-shirt. She shivered slightly, whether from the cold or the excitement Conner couldn’t tell.

  “Either way. One, two, how would we catch them? And then what? Are we going to shoot somebody for stealing an old truck? Is that what things have come to?” Conner asked.

  “Look, don’t get moralistic on me,” Jake said. He leveled his eyes at Conner. “I do things my way. You take from me, you pay for it.”

  Conner just stared back at him.

  “You’re soft,” Jake said, but his fists, still clenched, dropped from the truck door and he walked away from the Suburban and back into the factory.

  Lydia threw Conner a nasty look, finally managed to fish a replacement clip from her overly tight front pocket. Ejected the empty one into her hand and slid the new one into the pistol with a solid click. “Soft,” She echoed as the clip clicked home. She turned and went back inside the factory. In the distance, the muffler of the truck began to fade. It was hard to tell which direction it had gone.

  James stepped up beside Conner where he stood with Katie and Jan. “I’m not going to kill anybody over an old truck,” Conne
r said.

  “Me either” the other three said in near unison.

  “Guess we better start making sure everything’s locked up tight,” Conner said.

  “We’re going to have to start keeping a watch,” Jan said.

  “We will,” Katie agreed. “What if the next thing they want is a woman?”

  “That’s not funny,” Conner said.

  She leveled her dark eyes on his, silvery moonlight reflecting from them. “I wasn’t trying to be funny. Now that they know we’re around…” she shrugged. “Lydia may have overreacted, but maybe not. Who the hell would pull a stunt like that anyway? Everything’s just lying around. Want a truck? Go get one. No… It’s a mind set. Someone who takes like that doesn’t take because it’s easy; they take because they like it, because they can.” She lowered her voice, “Truck, woman... might all be the same to them.”

  No one spoke.

  ~

  Jake and Lydia sat talking in low tones as the others walked back into the factory. They had rebuilt the fire, and the warmth and light spread out, glowing on the brick walls. “Jake,” Conner started.

  “Listen,” Jake said. “I shouldn’t have said that... I didn’t mean to say that. And yes, it would be stupid to go chasing after a goddamn truck in the middle of the night. And no, I don’t want to kill someone over stealing a piece of shit truck,” Jake said. “But that kind of shit can’t happen. I mean, what’s next?”

  “Yeah,” Conner agreed. “Yeah. I guess what’s next is locked up trucks. No keys left in them. And…” He looked over at Katie. “I guess a guard at night. Katie said… She thinks someone who would come to take a truck might come to take a woman too.”