Doomsday Apocalypse

by Bobby Akart

  Tom’s breathing became laborious and his chest was heaving from the extraordinary effort he’d given to get them across the street. Relieved, he took a moment to catch his breath and gently set Donna on the ground. With him leading the way and Donna hopping close behind, they kept their bodies pressed against the granite wall as they inched closer to the revolving glass doors of the hotel.

  When they reached the overhang to the Hyatt hotel entrance, a new challenge presented itself. Getting inside.

  Chapter 51

  Will Hightower’s Home

  Atlantic Station

  Midtown Atlanta, Georgia

  They made their way to Will’s truck and drove in silence as they traveled up Northside Drive toward Midtown. Will didn’t bother to check in with the stadium’s headquarters or the Security Management Team. Following the evacuation order, the entire stadium had emptied to make way for Atlanta’s bomb squad and the SWAT team. FBI vans were pulling up to the stadium exits as Will led his kids in the direction of their car.

  The kids were somewhat in a state of shock. Neither spoke as they fought traffic, which was also fleeing the area surrounding the stadium. Besides the frightening event’s impact upon their emotions, it was late and several hours past Skylar’s bedtime. Ethan’s injury likely caused his body to be exhausted as well.

  He glanced at the clock on his truck’s radio. It was just after midnight. He shook his head and closed his eyes for a second while he waited for the traffic signal to change. He angrily tapped the steering wheel with his fingers, berating himself for the decision to take the kids to the concert and agreeing to work that night.

  The fact of the matter was that he needed to earn the double-time pay to cover his upcoming credit card bill, which included the Christmas gifts he’d bought for the kids. For a paycheck-to-paycheck guy like Will, just because Christmas came along and gifts were purchased didn’t mean he got an instant raise to cover the out-of-the-ordinary expense.

  He’d learned that lesson the first year of divorce when, out of a sense of guilt, he’d overspent on the children’s presents. Their joy and appreciation meant nothing in January when he tried to juggle his credit card bills with his child-support obligations. Karen certainly didn’t give him a pass due to his Christmas generosity. The squabble with her resulted in a six-month hiatus during which he wasn’t allowed to see his children, and his phone contacts were limited by their mother.

  Now another holiday had resulted in him stepping in a pile of crap again.

  Way to go, dad of the year. This was a New Year’s my kids will never forget. Nor will their mother. Nor will I. Their mother will make sure of that.

  As he turned off Northside Drive toward his home in the Atlantic Station neighborhood of Midtown, Will turned on the radio to listen to the local news reports of what had happened at Mercedes-Benz Stadium that night. He reached for his phone to see if his ex-wife had called, freaking out over the safety of her children with the unfit parent, a term she often threw in his face when he underpaid his monthly support.

  There was no call or message from Karen. There also wasn’t any news of the evacuation of the stadium. There were bigger, more deadly events taking place around the country.

  Will quickly turned off the radio so his kids couldn’t hear.

  What was happening? Was this a coordinated attack? Terrorists?

  Will’s mind raced until he pulled into the driveway of the small turn-of-the-century craftsman-style home located near the shopping and restaurant district of Atlantic Station. The home suited his needs perfectly. He was in walking distance to the MARTA station, shopping, and entertainment, although he never indulged himself. Also, it was intended to provide the kids a sense of normalcy when they visited him, rather than staying in a condo or apartment somewhere.

  “Hey, kids, here we are. Ethan, do you need some help inside?”

  “No, I’m good,” he responded sleepily.

  “Sky, are you awake?”

  “Yes, Daddy. Is it time for happy New Year?”

  Will smiled and chuckled. From what he’d just heard on the radio, he wondered.

  “It sure is, baby girl. Happy New Year to you both. Son, you keep that compress on your head and I’ll get the luggage. Can you unlock the door with your free hand?”

  “Yeah,” he responded. He pulled the shirt away from the gash and touched it with his fingers. “It stopped bleeding. Do you want your shirt?”

  Will laughed. “Nah, I probably won’t need it anymore. Who knows? Come on, it’s kinda chilly out here. Let’s get you both cleaned up and settled in bed. I’m pretty sure we’ll all sleep in tomorrow.”

  Ethan led the way up the sloped sidewalk to the front door and entered the foyer. Skylar sleepily followed him inside while Will carried all the bags. He dropped them just inside the door and closed it behind him.

  “Let’s get some lights on,” he said as he walked into the darkened home and flipped on as many switches as he could reach quickly. The downstairs of the two-story home consisted of a living room together with a kitchen/dining area. Three bedrooms and two baths were upstairs. “Why don’t you guys take a seat on the couch while I get some wet towels and bandages to take care of Ethan’s busted noggin’.”

  “Daddy, can we turn on the New Year’s party in New York?”

  Will’s face turned ashen and he quickly responded. His children had seen enough excitement for one night. “No, baby girl. We missed it anyway, and it’s late for you both. Let’s get your brother fixed up and you guys settled in bed.”

  He led them to the couch, and to ensure they followed his instructions, he slyly retrieved the cable box remote off the sofa table and slid it into his pocket.

  Will gathered up what he needed to attend to Ethan’s wound together with one of his Philadelphia Phillies sweatshirts to replace his son’s bloodstained shirt. When he returned to the living room, Ethan was standing in front of a painting on the wall above the fireplace.

  “Hey, Dad, what’s this? I don’t remember it from the first time we were here.”

  Will hesitated and then responded, “Oh, that. It’s a painting.”

  “Of a triangle, Daddy?” asked Skylar.

  “Well, not exactly a triangle, baby girl, although it looks like one. It’s a Greek symbol or, in this case, a letter.”

  Will helped Ethan remove his bloody shirt and then gently pulled the Phillies sweatshirt over his head, avoiding the wound in the process. He used a warm, wet cloth to wipe the dried blood off his face and then used alcohol wipes to cleanse the wound.

  Finally, he applied Polysporin ointment rather than the more commonly used Neosporin. They both had the same active ingredients except Neosporin also contained neomycin, which had been associated with allergic reactions and contact dermatitis.

  “Daddy, why do you have a Greek letter on your wall?” his daughter innocently persisted out of curiosity.

  Will thought about his answer. “Well, it’s sort of, um, part of a club that I’m involved with. You know, like a second job.”

  “What’s it stand for?” asked Ethan.

  “Delta.”

  Chapter 52

  Six Flags Great Adventure

  Jackson, New Jersey

  J.C. plummeted in a free fall for nearly thirty feet before the safety rope halted his descent. The belt harness around his waist knocked the breath out of him, and he began to gasp for air. Bent over at the waist, his arms and legs dangled toward the ground.

  The rope, which was now stretched between the safety bars, was swinging back and forth slightly, but at that height, it moved J.C.’s body ten to fifteen feet with each swing.

  “Hold on, honey!” yelled Angela.

  Tyler swung around and positioned himself in the car where J.C. had been sitting. “Grab the rope, everyone. Angela, grab the rope and pull!”

  Tyler wedged his legs into the hood of the coaster car to gain leverage. Kaycee crawled behind him and straddled his back to get into a tug-of-war p
osition. Behind them, Angela wedged herself into a crouched position so she could use her legs to pull the safety rope too.

  “Hang on, buddy, we’ll get you!” shouted Tyler.

  Although they couldn’t see J.C. because he was hanging out of view, they could hear and feel him struggling.

  “Can’t breathe,” they could hear J.C. whisper in between gasps.

  Tyler had dealt with this before, both as a lifeguard and as an emergency medical technician. When a sudden force is applied to the abdomen, it puts pressure on a group of nerves at the pit of the stomach. This causes a spasm of the body’s diaphragm. Instead of functioning to pull air into the lungs when the body breathes, it stops functioning temporarily, which results in a lack of air to the lungs.

  He knew he had to keep J.C. calm and encouraged him to take deep breaths. His body would recover shortly as long as there weren’t other internal injuries.

  “Keep cool, J.C. You’ve got this!” shouted Kaycee.

  “Try to take deep breaths, son. You’re almost here.”

  The three of them continued to tug at the rope, hand over hand, until J.C. was rising a foot at a time. Their frantic tugs were working, and the slack in the rope began to pool around Tyler’s feet.

  He could hear J.C. heaving, his young chest inhaling air too fast. Tyler didn’t need him to hyperventilate now. With his head below his body, it would be easy for him to become unconscious.

  “We have to hurry,” he growled as he urged Angela and Kaycee on. They continued to pull the safety rope until J.C.’s back appeared at the sloped hood of the coaster.

  “There he is!” shouted Angela. “There he is!”

  The three of them kept pulling until the youngest Rankin was in easy grasp of Tyler. He grabbed his safety belt and pulled him into the coaster until he was cradled in his lap.

  “We’ve got you, son,” said Tyler as tears streamed down his face.

  Angela was leaning against the back of the seat and stretched her arm through so she could touch J.C.’s arm. The family continued to cry tears of joy until Kaycee finally spoke up.

  “Dad, you’re squishing me.”

  Tyler had been forcing his legs against the front of the car and pressing his back into Kaycee to get leverage. During the tugging process to retrieve J.C., Kaycee didn’t notice the pain as she worked with her parents to save her brother. Now she realized her dad had forgotten about her being behind him.

  “Oh, sorry, honey,” said Tyler as he relaxed his body somewhat. This allowed Kaycee to squirm in the seat and get more comfortable.

  J.C. turned his head upward and wiped the snot running out of his nose and onto his dad’s shirt. His tone was sincere. “I’m never riding a roller coaster again. Never. Got it?”

  The family erupted in laughter just as two firefighters arrived on both sides of their car to assist.

  Chapter 53

  Congress Heights

  Washington, DC

  Hayden reached the bottom of the ladder and was immediately hugged by one of the women. Tears streamed from her eyes as she thanked Hayden over and over for returning.

  “I told you I’d return,” started Hayden before the woman interrupted.

  “Shhh. You must speak softly. The man might hear you.”

  “What man?”

  “He was just here, and he was very angry. His eyes were wild and red, like a demon. He asked about a tall woman in a long coat, and I knew he was searching for you. He looked evil and smelled like liquor.”

  Hayden cowered somewhat and immediately looked around the tunnel for her attacker. “What did you do?”

  “I told him you went farther into the tunnel along the tracks. He believed me and left. But he might come back, so we must hurry.”

  Hayden exhaled and began passing out instructions. She sent the mother of the toddler up the stairs first, followed by a young boy of seven or eight years old. Hayden picked up the toddler and held her tight against her chest. The young child wrapped her arms and legs around Hayden.

  With her hands free, she immediately climbed the ladder behind the first two to escape the hellish conditions in the tunnel. Once topside, she breathed in the fresh air and prepared herself for the next, more difficult task.

  She shook her arms to relax and then descended the rungs once again. At the bottom, she sent the remaining women and children up the ladder one by one until she was last, along with the young girl and her badly sprained ankle.

  Hayden helped the girl to her feet and placed her hands on both her shoulders. “Okay, are you ready to do this?”

  The young girl nodded her head.

  “Good. Now, how much do you weigh?”

  “Forty-two pounds.”

  Hayden allowed herself a chuckle. “Well, you are a very pretty forty-two-pounder.”

  “I’m afraid,” the young girl began to whimper and then added, “but I want to be brave too.”

  Hayden knelt in front of her and smiled. “Honey, being brave doesn’t mean not being afraid. It means being afraid and doing it anyway.”

  The little girl wiped away her tears and nodded, acknowledging that she was ready to go.

  Hayden turned around in her crouch and faced the ladder. She instructed the child to wrap her arms around Hayden’s neck and her legs around her waist. The child groaned slightly as she tucked her heels tight into Hayden’s midsection, but she’d developed a newfound form of bravery thanks to Hayden’s encouraging words.

  With a deep breath to gather all of her strength, Hayden began to slowly climb upward, focusing on one rung at a time while offering reassuring words to the child, who held her in a death grip. Minutes later, they safely arrived to reunite with everyone.

  After several minutes of muted celebration, Hayden led the group away from the freeway and toward the west of the air vent. As they walked through the empty field, more buildings came into view, and when she saw a Lifeflight helicopter soar over their heads, she knew they were heading in the direction of Unity Healthcare hospital near the intersection of Martin Luther King Jr. Avenue and Malcolm X Avenue.

  “Follow me,” she instructed as the group continued toward the lighted buildings. The young girl with the sprained ankle hobbled along with the assistance of her mother and the other woman. Hayden carried the youngest child and did her best to keep control of the three other children, who were now enjoying the adventure.

  The group reached MLK Avenue and began walking down the sidewalk. Cars sped past in both directions, ignoring the group, which was obviously hobbling along. Hayden didn’t want to flag down a car and lend the appearance they were in distress. Instead, she powered up her phone and navigated to her Uber app.

  She summoned two cars, one for the group of women and children to pile into for further delivery to the hospital. The other for her to get home. This had been a New Year’s Eve to remember.

  She rode in silence as the driver made his way to her condominium overlooking the Potomac River. The Jamaican-born woman was playing reggae music that Hayden enjoyed, so rather than immediately turning to her smartphone to determine the cause of the power outage, she chose to relax, allowing her two worlds to meet, and think about what she would do first when she got home. Pop a bottle of Cabernet or take a shower. Or both.

  After paying the driver a handsome tip in cash, she made her way through the secured entrance and was pleased that the lobby of her building was devoid of neighbors. She looked like a hot mess and smelled even worse. After steeling her nerves for yet another elevator ride, she found her way to the top floor of the building. Her body was flooded with emotion and relief as she entered her home.

  Hayden, who lived alone, didn’t hesitate to strip all of her grimy clothes off and left them in a pile by the front door. She looked around for a moment and considered turning on the lights but allowed the glow from the city to serve as the minimal light she needed to find her way to the shower.

  “Prowler, where are you? You are an insubordinate, ungrateful cat. I know
your mommy stinks like, um, subway, sewer, and dumpster combined. But I could really use a friend right now.”

  It was not unusual for her Maine coon cat to punish Hayden when he’d been left alone all day. He was stubbornly independent and smarter than any dog she’d ever had. She suspected the long separation of the day and the stench, which had filled the usually clean-smelling condo, kept Prowler hidden somewhere, which was hard to do considering his size. He weighed more than the toddler she’d carried up the ladder earlier.

  When she walked past the kitchen, she noticed it was almost midnight, but that didn’t matter anymore. Hayden found the shower and spent the first five minutes allowing the hot water to wash away the memories of the evening. Refreshed, she prepared to celebrate with her best friend, assuming they were on speaking terms again.

  Hayden dried off the excess water, brushed out her hair, and cuddled up in her favorite plush robe. As soon as she arrived in the kitchen and flicked on the lights, Prowler emerged from a darkened corner of the open loft and immediately began walking figure eights through her legs.

  “Oh, I see how it is. In my time of need, you pretend to be sleeping. Now that I’m all cleaned up, we’re besties again.”

  Hayden quickly fed Prowler a plastic tub of Purina Beneful real beef dog food—his favorite. He was mostly a dog anyway.

  After the day she’d had, a glass of Cabernet was much preferred to her Perrier. She poured a glass and immediately took a sip, allowing the warmth to ease down her throat. She made her way into the living area and retrieved the remote off her coffee table.

  Without looking, she powered on her television and moseyed over to the floor-to-ceiling windows of her condo to admire the views of the Potomac and the city beyond. The news anchor interrupted her thoughts and quickly grabbed her attention.