Dystopian Girls

by Rodzil LaBraun

  DYSTOPIAN GIRLS

  By Rodzil LaBraun

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  CHAPTER ONE:

  I was checking all the cupboards in the recently remodeled kitchen when I heard a ruckus in the backyard. It was almost dark, much later in the day than I usually went foraging. My desire for some kind of processed pastry drove me out of my comfort zone this evening. Leaning over the stainless-steel kitchen sink I peered out the double pane window in search of what may have created the disturbance. I saw nothing and heard even less, so after a minute of holding my breath I figured it must have been a rodent or the like.

  This classy contemporary kitchen had evidently been picked through previously. The solid oak doors and drawers were already open, and a variety of undesired items and wrappers of consumed food were scattered on the marble tile floor. Marble? Really? Probably not. This neighborhood was nice, but not that nice. Still, the floor looked expensive and remained shining from its last mopping.

  Of course, there were no packaged cupcakes or similar treats. I knew from experience that the hunger for a sugary pastry would pass in time, but I was physically compelled to search until then. This house on Norcross Way was too obvious of a target to continue to hold anything of value. In the weeks since the global catastrophe, so many private homes had been ravaged by individuals bent on survival. Grocery and convenience stores were much better supply stations, but they were often occupied by gangs. I still can't shake the memory of seeing that defenseless woman brutally murdered in the bread aisle. That was back before the viruses spread like wildfire and there were much more people still alive. Guilt for not trying to help her plagued my soul, but I would have just ended up dead alongside of her.

  Finally giving up on the food hunt, I checked the obvious locations for more batteries and bottled water. Better yet would be anything that could purify water more effectively than the filtered pitcher I was currently using. Ever since the plumbing stopped working, clean drinking water was the highest priority. Electricity was still missed, but not nearly as required for survival as I once believed. The internet stopped working even before that, and the news it provided was the only thing of importance. The time for selfies, likes and shares had long passed. I always believed people's obsession with social media was a bit immature, but now it seems absurdly ridiculous.

  Okay, nothing left to gleam here. Time to head back across New Hampshire Avenue to my place before it gets too dark to make out predators. The six-lane highway was once a busy artery of suburban traffic. Now it was just a big open space where you could be vulnerable to attack from a variety of sources, man or animal. It had been weeks since I heard the sound of a motored vehicle. I assumed gasoline was in extremely short supply. Once people started dropping like flies, I shied away from anything that would get me noticed, like the combustion engine of a car or truck. Of course, escaping notice had kind of been my thing all along. Though an only child, I never really sought attention. All my athletic endeavors had nothing to do with getting noticed. It was really more of a self-worth kind of thing. I think.

  Well, anyway, there I stood at the front door of the two-story brick home that I had been searching. The skillfully engraved, heavy oak door was hanging awkwardly from its brass hinges. Not my doing. I found it that way. Surprisingly, the flimsy metal storm door was still intact, though not closing properly. The glass had been slid down so only the screen was present up top. I stood there, as was my custom, listening and searching visibly for any red flags outside before I exit. Caution these days could make the difference between life and death. The few people that I had befriended since the world ended did not fully grasp that concept, unfortunately. They carelessly got themselves killed before I could really consider them a friend, or even a travel companion.

  It was that shocking loss of life that discouraged me from roaming as much as I had previously. I spent much of my time these days hunkered down in the concrete building of the old Hollywood Beer & Wine store. It's structure and limited access made it easily defended against most foes. Each day I would try to improve its fortification and comfort. There were still some edible food items in the deli section and storeroom, but a lot of rotten meat needed to be tossed in the charred dumpster out back. It drew animals for a while, but none were able to get into the store, so that was okay.

  I had a cot set up behind the cashier's counter and blocked all the doors and windows sufficiently for safety. That left the place dreadfully dark all the time, so lantern batteries were a daily necessity. The lack of sufficient air flow also produced an oven effect since there was no longer a working air conditioner anywhere without electricity. A gas generator could solve that problem, but for how long? And would I get myself killed siphoning gasoline on a regular basis? I decided I might as well get used to living on the basics, since there was no reason to expect improvement in this world in the foreseeable future.

  Movement caught my eye to the left, and I ducked down hoping that I had not already been noticed. Shortly thereafter, a limping mangy excuse for a female human wandered across the front lawn. Though I could not smell her from my hiding spot, I knew that it was a skank. That is what Ashley had called them before she got herself killed by a few. They were people that physically decayed from the viruses, but never died. Their mental capacity appeared to be limited as they focused mostly on finding their next meal. They were cannibals, trash eaters, and nasty fuckers in every sense. Ashley called the girls skanks and the guys skunks. The name fit and I continued to use it even after her death. Of course, most of my conversation was with myself. Even stray dogs didn't stick around long.

  The skank stopped abruptly on the stone sidewalk that led from the street to the front door where I was hidden and made a barking type noise. It was their communication and resembled the English language occasionally. Two more skanks appeared to the left and followed their stinky friend into the front yard. Then another came from the right to begin a meeting of rotten walking flesh blocking my exit. This one was a skunk I could tell from his scraggly beard and wife-beater undershirt exposing a flat chest. He was probably something like a leader for the hungry gang. The vast majority of survivors, I noticed, were female. The rare male would easily gain respect in this new dystopian world that he might not otherwise deserve.

  I drew in a quick breath when one of the skanks motioned toward the house where I crouched in the shadow of the doorway. Then another gestured across the street and seemed to convince the others that they should shuffle their sorry asses that way. Appreciative, I watched the pathetic group effort as they headed for a burnt brick home that looked very similar to this one. One skank fell twice, tripping over the curb the first time, then something invisible the next. The skunk kicked her after the second time and the other skanks barked and pointed. I realize then that it was laughter. Perhaps these sub-humans maintained more of their humanity than I realized.

  The group continued their disjointed journey with the injured female only falling behind enough to keep from getting kicked again. Eventually, they disappeared behind the house and I became conscious of the fact that all my focus had been on the stinky gang. I failed to keep my eyes and ears open for other threats. I needed to reassess the safety of the house first, then watch out front again for a few minutes.


  My extra caution was rewarded when I witnessed two more forms enter the street. These were both female but walked with more coordination and strength than the nasty skanks. They also carried weapons. Both had golf clubs, and one carried a sword. I imagined it had been pried off the living room wall of some abandoned home, then fought over several times in the sad feudal weeks that followed. The current owner was carrying it unsheathed and making aggressive cutting motions in the air before her. Her partner widened the space between them, showing some good sense, as they appeared to follow the other gang around the house. Were they skank hunters? What could they possibly gain from chasing down the nasty group? They wouldn't even be good eating, if you were so inclined. They had no possessions to steal. But it didn't matter really. All I cared about was that they weren't coming after me.

  Staying in the shadows as best I could, I slowly made my way back the short cul-de-sac street toward the main road. My concrete fortress was visible in the dim twilight from there. The trash I propped in front of the entrance looked to be undisturbed since I left. That was good. I was not in the mood for guests. I took a couple more minutes to observe the open area of New Hampshire Avenue. The street originated in Washington DC and was named after a state like so many other streets in the nation's capital. Then it extended way out into the country. Some undamaged street signs were visible, surprisingly. There were also a few abandoned cars, but not many. The catastrophe that befell our planet did not happen overnight. Most people died in their homes or in hospitals. Their cars were properly parked between painted lines or in a driveway before they realized how bad things were going to be.

  Nothing to see here, so I jogged quietly across the pavement and concrete median to duck behind a pickup truck parked in the beer store parking lot. If my movement caught anyone's attention, I would like to know that now instead of after I reveal the location of my domicile. Looking all around, there was no evidence that I had been spotted.

  I silently moved the trash from my entrance and slid inside the concrete block building. I left one lantern on when I left, and its light was sufficient to illuminate most of the store's sales room. I turned on another and walked all the aisles and back rooms just to make sure I was still alone. No visitors, thank goodness. I can block the exit again and settle in for the night. I had set out a pack of peanuts and a string cheese that looked unspoiled. If that wouldn't satisfy my stomach, I could snap into a beef jerky. Those things had been hurting my stomach lately though. The next day I would need to find some more real food. Maybe wander back to the houses in the woods to the east. It would be a half a mile at least to go that far back, but it would be worth it if I could score real nutritious consumables.

  As I began working on barricading the store entrance I heard talking outside. I dove for cover behind the door frame and waited. It sounded like the two women from earlier, the ones with the sword. Did they follow me?

  "We know you are in there," one of them said calmly. "Don't be scared. We just want to talk. Maybe do some trading."

  I didn't buy it. They had weapons and carried themselves like they took whatever they wanted. I wouldn't expect a fair trade if any. And what did they have to trade? Neither of them even had a backpack or handbag when I saw them earlier.

  "Come on now, boy," the same woman said. "We ain't leaving until you acknowledge us at least. It's polite to hear offers before you decline a chance at trading. We might have exactly what you are looking for."

  "What do we have that he wants?" the other woman asked, seemingly a little less intelligent than her partner.

  "Well, you could give him some pussy like you did with that other guy..."

  "Fuck you!" the dumber female shouted. "Why don't you fuck him this time?"

  "Okay, okay," the first one replied. "Nobody needs to get fucked unless there be willing parties involved. I was just thinking that one guy on his own might be missing female companionship. It could be our best offer in his eyes. I don't know. What do you want to offer in trade?"

  "Nothing!" she answered. "We just take what we want. We got the weapons. I didn't see none on him."

  "Damn, Cheryl! He can fucking hear us, you know. I swear, you are dumb as shit sometimes. I don't believe you really are my sister. Mom must have slept around with retards before you were born."

  Though the conversation was humorous, I had to think of ways to get out of this mess. Could I prevent them from breaking into the building? Should I exit and try to make peace? Was I desperate enough to consider either one of them attractive? Truth was, I didn't get that good of a look at them before. But that kind of thinking was going to get me killed.

  I figured I could take them both in hand to hand combat, but they each had golf clubs and one had a sword. All I had was a baseball bat beside the door that I found behind the register. There was a handgun back there too, but no bullets anywhere to be found. I guess I could bluff. Or, would that make it worse? I'd be exposed with no ammo if they didn't feel like backing down.

  As I considered these things carefully, I heard noise at the back door. I peeked out the doorway quickly to see if one of the two women had gone around back. Nope, they were both still standing there arguing. The stupider sister was a little heavy for my taste. She was the one with the sword. The other one had long wavy hair and didn't look too bad. Both were wearing jean shorts and dirty tank tops exposing dark tattoos on random body parts. Stop, I told myself. Now was not the time to start checking out the girls.

  So, neither of them went to the back door. The noise continued. It was obvious that someone was prying away my barricade to get in. They must have another member to their gang. Then, I overheard more of the conversation out front.

  "He ain't coming out," chubby said. "Are we just going to wait here while Earl kills him inside?"

  Ah, they had a man in their group. He would no doubt be the leader. Maybe I should focus on defeating him first. At this point, I knew nothing about him though. Was he bigger than me? Did he have a weapon? Was he stupid, or would I have a hard time outsmarting him?

  Just then the last barrier in the back room crashed to the floor. I knew the guy was inside now. I didn't have to wait long before he entered the sales room with a complete lack of caution. If I did have a gun, he would be dead before he knew it. So, he wasn't too bright then. What he did have was a small caliber rifle. Without even bothering to take aim he fired a round in my direction. I heard the pop of the bullet and the splintering of the wooden door frame behind me. I quickly decided the democratic approach would be a poor choice with this guy. I bolted out the front door before he could fire another shot.

  The two women took up haphazard battle stances with weapons raised, standing maybe ten feet directly in front of the store entrance. The shiny blade of the sword was most definitely intimidating. I wouldn't want to be hit in the head with the golf club the other was holding either. It looked to maybe be a seven iron, as if that mattered. I bolted directly for the heavier girl figuring this was my opportunity for surprise. Indeed, they both looked shocked, screaming out as they swung their weapons in my direction like I was a bumble bee that took them by unawares at a picnic. That was when I realized that I forgot to bring the baseball bat. The smarter girls club missed me by a good two feet since I wasn't headed in her direction. The dumber one's sword was headed for the top of my head but managed to only contact some hair as my shoulder slammed into her hips, throwing her off her feet awkwardly. She landed on her ass as the weapon slipped from her hand. Her head then hit the asphalt with a crack.

  I didn't have time to wait and see if she was okay. Her sister swung the club again from behind me. I thought for sure it would take me in the shoulder. I braced for contact and held out my hand to deflect the blow as much as I could. It barely grazed my fingertips, causing them to sting something terrible. But I couldn't really feel it right away. When she swung it again, I grabbed it with my left hand prior to it gaining any momentum. Before she could let go of it, I yanked hard causing her to stum
ble toward me. I grabbed her other wrist with my right hand and swung her around until my right arm had her in a loose choke hold.

  "Hey!" the guy yelled as he finally exited the store. He was big. Both muscular and fat. Well, he had a big belly anyway. This guy was dark skinned and wore only camo cargo shorts and tan suede boots. His muscles bulged much more than mine. I immediately decided not to put myself in a position where he could pin me down. I quickly shuffled around to place the girl between me and the gun. "What happened to Cheryl?" he asked.

  "He killed her," the girl I held coughed out. "I think she's dead. She ain't moving." When she started sobbing against my chest it cut me straight to my heart. I didn't want to kill anyone. I hoped the girl would recover. I looked over and her sister was right. The chubby one wasn't moving. She wasn't resting comfortably either. Her mouth was wide open, and one leg looked twisted awkwardly. I tried to tell myself that she would be okay, but it didn't look good.

  "Let Tammy go or I'll shoot ya!" the guy barked out.

  "I think you'll shoot me if I do let her go," I replied as calmly as I could muster.

  "Hell, I don't give a shit about Tammy," he said. "I'll shoot right through her to kill your sorry ass."

  "Hey!" Tammy took exception to the remark.

  "He won't shoot her," a female voice said from somewhere over by the parked cars near the street. The lot was rough black top with no lines for parking spots. Three vehicles sat by the curb at Hollywood Avenue, and two others were sitting at random angles closer to the highway. There were no street lights, of course, but the moon in the clear sky illuminated the area enough. "He loves her." We all looked over, but I couldn't see anyone there.