by Jack Hunt
“We are taking this country back. This is what it has always been about. We are going to purge this land, every city and every town until all that remains is white power.” He began walking with me, gripping my shoulder and talking as though I was still one of them. But everything about what he was saying only disgusted me. Killing innocents? This wasn’t just about striking back at blacks or Jews as most assumed white power was about. It was about defeating anyone that stood in their path. It didn’t matter if you were white, or any other color of the rainbow. It was about control for power.
“All this time they have been looking at the Middle East and we have been right under their nose slowly gaining ground, just waiting for the right time to strike. This is it. This is our time, brother.”
I wanted to tell him that he wasn’t my brother but I’d seen what they had done to those who opposed them. I had seen how they had stomped to death those who turned coat. One guy even earned his red laces by stomping to death another who had chosen to hand his in. Turning your back was deemed an act of cowardice; a lack of commitment to the cause and it wasn’t tolerated. Sure, there were some that would do nothing to you but not the ones in this town. They were nutcases.
“There’s supposed to be over two hundred and forty of us here for the rally.”
“To celebrate?” I said trying to act as though I was on the same page as him.
“No, you idiot. We are taking this town.” He then tapped me on the shoulder and with his arm still around me pulled my chin up in the direction of the town. I glanced away from him into the distance. Flames flickered up into the early night sky.
“See. We’ve already begun.”
ANARCHY
I had to think fast. They would expect me to go along with them and join in whatever crazy plan they had in store for the evening.
“You hear that? No cops. Come on, we’ll be late,” he said pulling on me.
In the distance, no siren could be heard. All the cop cars would have had computer chips, fire trucks as well.
“I’ll meet you there. I have to check in with my father.”
He scowled. “Your father? You’ve never referred to him as your father.”
“I meant Brett.”
He studied my face for a moment and I felt a trickle of sweat go down my back. He grabbed hold of my head. “Don’t be fucking late.” Then he blew smoke in my face and started laughing. I chuckled a little trying to pretend as though I thought he was funny. They walked away occasionally looking back. One of them kicked over a trash can and bags of trash scattered. Another grabbed one and slammed it against a parked car.
They pumped the air with fists and shouted at people passing by. Neighbors ran inside and closed their doors. I watched as they ran up and kicked in a few doors and scared some of the neighbors. They would have never done this before but there were no police around to stop them. Where were the police? My eyes drifted back to the orange and yellow tongues of fire licking at the darkening sky.
I put my other arm through the strap of my bag and took a shortcut through an alley that led down between two houses. It took me over a small creek and up a grass-covered embankment. I came out behind a 7-Eleven.
I hadn’t made it a few yards down the road when I saw another group of skinheads in the distance. I didn’t recognize them as anyone that I knew. I figured they were up for the rally. They were crowded around something on the ground. As they pulled back I saw it. If I hadn’t been there I wouldn’t have believed it. One of them was finishing assaulting a person on the street with a hammer. The others jeered and kicked the victim who was motionless.
I wanted to scream but found myself frozen with shock. Unable to believe what I had witnessed, horror turned into fear and my pulse began to race. Ducking down between cars and scrambling across the ground, I stayed low so they wouldn’t see me. It wasn’t as though they would have attacked me. I was one of them, at least if they went by appearances, but they were strangers and they might not have been as lenient as Bryan Catz was. I peered over the trunk of a car. They’d moved on from the victim. He was no longer moving. A puddle of blood pooled around his head. They strolled up the high street singing punk songs as though they had done no wrong.
I sure as hell didn’t sign up for that. Moving quickly out of the parking lot and over to Pearl Street, I found house 483. Peering around nervously, I banged on the door and someone peered out of the curtain. I heard a chain slide across, multiple locks pull back and then it opened.
Jodi immediately grabbed me and held me tight.
“You’re back?”
“Yeah. Yeah.” I looked around panting and breathing hard. I was in the hallway of the Robertsons’. I’d only met them a few times when Jodi had invited them over for supper. They were your typical family. Bill and Rachel Robertson had two small children under the age of nine. Apparently Jodi knew them from way back in the day when she used to go to school with Rachel.
“Have you seen what it’s like out there?” I said thumbing over my shoulder.
“No. We’ve been here since the power went out. Bill has a generator.”
I glanced at the lights that were on.
“Turn them off.”
“What?”
“Turn off the lights.” I began rushing around flipping them off. “If they see them on they will show up here.”
“Who will? Sam, you are scaring me.”
As I hurried to shut off the lights, Brett stopped me.
“Son, what’s going on?”
I was still breathing hard from running. The image of the guy getting his head smashed in with a hammer was stuck in my mind. The words of Bryan Catz rang in my ears. It all seemed surreal.
“Do you need a drink?”
“I’ll get him a drink.”
“No. I’m serious. You’ve got to turn these lights out.”
Bill Robertson got up from his seat and stood in front of me. “You are scaring my children, Sam. Stop.”
“Do any of you know what has happened?”
Brett came closer. “Yeah, there was talk of terrorist attacks before the blackout. Several cities have been hit with explosives or something like that.”
“It’s a nuclear attack.”
“What are you on about?” Brett’s brow knit together.
I ran my hand over my stubbled head.
“You know the group that I was hanging out with before I went away? They are part of a larger network. White supremacists. A massive organization that is spread across the United States. Whoever runs that organization must have had some strong connections as they are the ones responsible for this. Now by the looks of it, the explosions were only the beginning. In nearly every city and state of America they are gearing up to take control of what remains of towns and cities that haven’t been affected by the strikes.”
“Nuclear strikes? How?”
“Suitcase bombs. I’d heard them talking about it but I just thought it was, you know… a joke. In the Cold War—”
I was in mid-sentence when the window smashed. A large rock missed Bill’s face by inches and came to rest near my feet. It was followed by someone shouting.
“Come on out.”
“Shit. They’re here.” They had seen the lights on in the house. It was only a matter of time before the chaos kicked off. With zero power they would be looking for anyone who was running a generator.
“What the hell is going on?” Bill was a large man and not the kind of guy that would have been intimidated by anyone. When another rock came through the window and hit his daughter in the back, he was beyond pissed.
“Little fuckers.” He stormed towards the front door.
“No. Don’t open that.”
I rushed forward but it was too late. The second the door swung wide, another brick came flying and hit him full force in the face. Bill fell back on the ground, his face a bloody mess. Outside, there was jeering and shouts.
“Lock the door,” I screamed.
Brett
scrambled to the door and shouldered it like an NFL player. I dragged out an armchair and rammed it against the door, then returned to the living room. Rachel was screaming. Her kids were crying. Staying low to the ground I approached an open window. I shouted to the guys outside.
“Back off. I’m dealing with this.”
There were a few seconds before they replied. “Sam?”
I recognized the voice as Tommy Black. He’d been one of two people who had initially got me involved in the group. He was a good guy, at least he appeared that way to me.
“Tommy. I’m handling this.”
“What the fuck are you doing in there, Frost?” another voice shouted. I peered out through the thin white drapes.
Markus Wainright stood outside with Tommy and three other skinheads I didn’t know. I’d met him on a number of occasions. He was considered a leader among our group. The group that ran out of Mount Pleasant consisted of about thirty individuals of varying ages. There had been talks of a rally being held months ago. I just thought they were talking shit. Back then very little had been shared with us. We were considered foot soldiers. Whatever the hell that meant. All we had been told was to get ready for something big. It was going to be a landmark for white supremacists everywhere. They had said it would make Middle Eastern terrorist attacks look like child’s play. I thought they were kidding.
All of them were armed with baseball bats, thick two-by-fours and large knives. That was one thing about the group. They were into inflicting pain, not just shooting people. In the distance behind them I could see even more taking to the streets. Large flashlights were being shone around the streets and anyone who was out was attacked. Several kicked in doors that had lights on. Others tossed Molotov cocktails and set cars on fire.
“Just leave it with me,” I hollered.
“The hell I will. That isn’t your house.”
“Give me a minute.”
I looked over my shoulder to Brett. I indicated for him to go out the back. He shook his head. He was stubborn.
The heated conversation came back to me in that moment. My mind drifted to the day before being hauled away to Camp Zero.
Brett followed me into my room and closed the door. I had never seen him angry. His approach was very different to other foster parents I had. The previous wouldn’t think twice about taking out a belt and unleashing hell on my rear end. I still had the scars to prove it.
No, Brett was smart. He got inside my head and used reverse psychology. He believed that my problem was a lack of love, and that any time someone showed care, I shut down or had a violent outburst.
He wasn’t wrong. Then again, he hadn’t spent the last years being bounced around from family to family.
I was packing a bag when he came in. Lt. Scot Murphy was in the other room with Dan. It was like an intervention for a drug user. They had shown up and were planning on taking me in. They had given me the option to go pack a few things and leave with them quietly or they would take me by force. At first I thought it was joke, some kind of prank, but they were dead serious.
Of course I didn’t plan on sticking around so I ran into my room and started stuffing a duffel bag with some of my personal belongings.
That’s when Brett entered.
“Sam, we are trying to help. This isn’t you. The shaved head, the tattoo, the swastika on the wall. It’s all just a front.”
“Oh yeah, what the fuck do you know?”
“I know that beneath all that, you just want someone to actually give a shit about you.”
I looked back at him blankly.
“I know that you have been through hell with previous foster parents but we aren’t like that.”
“You know how many times I’ve heard that?”
“It’s true.”
“Oh, and you think sending me away to some shithole in the middle of the wilderness is going to fix me?”
“These guys know what they are doing. They have worked with hundreds of kids just like you.”
I slammed my bag down and got up in his face. “Just like me? What am I, some freak of nature to you?” I paused staring into his dark eyes. “Why did you choose me? Why not a black kid?”
“Do you think the color of your skin matters to us?”
“Well, doesn’t it?”
He never backed down. He remained poised and looked into my eyes. “Son.”
“I’m not your son. I’m your paycheck.”
“You’re not a paycheck, Sam.”
I turned away and continued stuffing clothes into my bag.
“Sam.”
As he grabbed hold of my arm and spun me around, I nearly said a word that I had never uttered before. I didn’t even know where it came from. In the heat of the moment it nearly came out.
“Get off me you…” I paused in mid-sentence. It was then that I realized that I had overstepped a line.
“Go on. Say it.”
“Screw you, Brett.”
I pushed past him with my bag, and slammed the door open. Jodi had tears in her eyes. I had nearly made it to the door when Murphy stepped in front of me.
“I guess we have to do this the hard way.”
Another rock came through the window sending shards of glass across the room. I knew if they came in they would kill Jodi and Brett and no doubt myself included. I scrambled across the floor.
“You need to get out of here. Head to City Hall, Murphy will be there.” I glanced up at the clock, it was a little after six thirty. If nothing had happened to him he would be there.
Brett screwed up his face. “I’m not leaving you here.”
“They won’t touch me. They see me as one of them.”
“But you’re not.”
I hesitated before I replied. “I know. Just go.”
Brett clasped Jodi’s hand and led her out the back door. Bill’s face was covered in blood; Rachel held a towel to it. I felt bad for the guy. Both of their children were crying and looked terrified. Once I saw they had safely made it out back I went into the kitchen and looked around for anything that I could use to defend myself. There was a knife rack on the counter. I grabbed the largest one and tucked it into the back of my jeans.
“You better bring them out now, Frost, or we’re coming in.”
What I did next was probably the most idiotic thing I could have done. I went over to the wall and smashed the side of my head against it twice until it created a cut above my eye and blood began to trickle down. I staggered over to the front door and began pulling the armchair back just as they began to smash against it with bats.
“Hold on, I’m opening up.”
I dragged the chair away from the front door, yanked it open then fell back on the ground as though I was struggling to catch my breath. The first person I came face-to-face with was Markus.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“They overpowered me.”
“Where are the others?”
“It was just me. I thought I would do this one myself. I saw the light and thought we could use the generator.”
“You fucking idiot.” Markus pushed me out of the way.
“Where did they go?”
“Out the back. They’re long gone.”
“Not for long they won’t. We are all over this town now. Right, guys, grab whatever you can and haul that generator out of here.” He then proceeded to smash everything in sight with a bat that had nails coming out of it. Photo frames that held memories scattered across the room. One of them brought in a small red gasoline can and started splashing the walls and furniture.
“That’s it. Soak it real good. Without any power we are going to need some light, especially if we have to track these little rats down.”
By rats he was referring to anyone who wasn’t a skinhead. It was a term they had used multiple times in the past.
Right then Tommy Black came in. He was a heavyset guy with tattoos all over his arms and body modifications that made him look as though he had hor
ns under his skin.
“When did you get back?”
“Tonight.”
“Gotta love your timing.” He grabbed a hold of my hand and hauled me up off the ground and then passed me a cloth from the kitchen. “Stick that on your face, Frost. That is a gnarly cut. Did those bastards do it?”
I nodded, holding a hand up to my head.
“Don’t worry, they’ll pay. Everyone is going to pay today. I fucking love it.”
With that said he stuck his iPhone earbuds into his ears and began going nuts on the place with a baseball bat. I watched as they desecrated the home, ripping up furniture and smashing holes in the walls. One of them took a piss up the wall and then Markus gestured for everyone to get out. At which point he flicked open a Zippo lighter. The flame danced in the air right before he tossed it into the house.
A sudden gust of fire and the entire place was engulfed in flames.
CITY HALL
Stuck with a bunch of raving lunatics, I didn’t imagine it could get any worse. I was wrong. Occasionally I glanced back over my shoulder at the fiery house that was now engulfed. My mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Jodi and Brett’s safety. I needed to get to City Hall.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“No one told you?”
“Yeah, something about a rally and whatnot but to be honest I didn’t think they were going to go this far.”
Markus let out a laugh. He was eyeing the different houses looking for any that were lit up by generators. Two of the men were lugging the other generator between them.
“It’s a new world now, my friend,” Tommy said becoming all theatrical. “Picture in your mind small towns all over the country. I mean, the ones that haven’t been obliterated by the blast or affected by the nuclear fallout. Picture them under our control. This country is finally going to be run the right way.”
By our kind he meant anyone who was a neo-Nazi, white supremacist.
“But what about your family?”
His eyes drifted down for a second. “This is my family.”
I could tell he didn’t believe that. But fear was a strong motivator. Sure, people could run but at this point I didn’t think the townsfolk truly knew what was taking place. We were shrouded in darkness and the only light came from people’s flashlights or houses that were on fire. There was no point in me telling them that I had to get back to my family, they would have laughed. All of them had been egging me on for close to a year to do my foster parents in. Initially that was meant to be how I would earn my red laces. I wouldn’t do it. It wasn’t that I cared for them at that point. I had only been with them a year but I could tell they were good people. They weren’t like the others I had been with. Not that all the families I had been placed in were bad. In many ways I was the one that had kept them at arm’s length. But there had been a few nasty assholes.
