Stone Age

by ML Banner

  “Wasn’t my friend. I told him I would pull his braces out of his mouth with pliers if he didn’t return your suit. “No wardrobe malfunctions today, I see.” He hated himself for saying this, not wanting to sound like he was only interested in her body. He tried hard not to let his gaze drop from her eyes.

  “No, and it looked like I wasn’t the one having trouble with my suit today,” she said playfully.

  “Are you here through the fourth?” he asked, wanting desperately to change the subject.

  “No -” she started to reply, a voice behind her interrupting, “Darrrrrr. Grandpa wants you to go to the store to get something.”

  “That’s Danny, my brother. Ahh, we leave really late tomorrow night. We’re flying to Rocky Point to meet my mom, dad, and my older sister in Mexico.” She paused, distracted. “Sorry, but I have to go run an errand for my grandfather…” she smiled mischievously, “You wanna come?”

  Of course, he agreed, after apologies to his dad, who was helping Dar’s grandfather, Fred, with the BBQ duties. She drove and talked almost the whole way to the Clear Lake Market and back. She talked about her final year of studies, what she planned to do in the IT field – one more interest they shared, about where she wanted to live, and her family. They compared their travel plans for tomorrow evening and how their planes might even pass each other in the air, even though Steve and his dad were flying much earlier than she and Danny. He enjoyed her every word, and felt the time breeze by just listening. She loved how he listened to her so intently and how he answered her questions with strong confidence. Before they knew it, the twenty minutes it took for the round trip was over.

  Later, after each made rounds with their mutual friends, swam, and ate with their respective families, long after the sun had set, Steve and Darla ended up in two Adirondack chairs, next to each other. Their conversation picked up where they had left off and continued non-stop, pausing only to listen and sip on a cold beer. They were completely captivated by each other’s words.

  “What time do the firew…whoa, look at that. That looks like an aurora,” Steve pointed at the northern sky, about where the fireworks should be discharging at any moment.

  Two wispy shimmering green clouds slowly snaked along the horizon moving towards them and to the west.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I saw an aurora during an Alaskan cruise with my family many years ago. I thought you could only see those in Alaska or the North Pole,” she said, face pointed more towards him now.

  At any other time, the auroras would have been ominous to both of them, but a larger force was at work.

  The green light from the aurora illuminated her face, lifting the veil of darkness which had covered them both for the past few minutes. She had an expectant smile, which was even more alluring because of the green vaporous radiance above. He could not restrain his feelings for her any longer. Leaning closer, he kissed her.

  First surprised, then she was fully accepting.

  Slowly, he pulled away. “I’m sorry, but I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you.” He sounded repentant, but felt no regret.

  She kissed him back.

  When the Clear Lake fireworks started, both smiled at each other, not just from the pleasurable kissing they shared, but because they both felt like they were part of an overdone ending to a romantic movie. Wanting more, they kissed each other again.

  The foreboding green auroras were lost in the smoke and haze of the fireworks, and any concerns about them were lost in the fog of their kissing and newfound love.

  16.

  Worrying

  7:20 P.M.

  Rocky Point, Mexico

  As Max finished unloading his supplies in the warehouse, carefully stacking them in their allotted areas, he was lost in thought considering if he forgot anything. He felt like he had done just about everything he could to provide for their survival of what he knew was perhaps coming as early as today.

  He just wished he could do something for all the others. So many would die from what was about to happen. Not right away, but in months from now. Mexico would be a little better off than the US, but even this generation of Mexicans was more and more like their American counterparts, relying on supplies and services that were delivered just-in-time. This method of delivery of goods and services was very efficient in a diverse, global economic world with lots of technology. However, it meant when the delivery systems stopped, people on average only had a week’s worth of food, and even less water.

  When the panic starts, not at first, but in a few weeks, fueled by a realization that help is not on the way and their fear and pangs of hunger take over, then it would get really ugly. Neighborly love and friendship would be replaced with survival, not only for self, but also for one’s family. However, what really caused Max to lose sleep lately is the result of when weeks turn into months. That’s when the mass death would occur. What life wasn’t taken by disease, which would be rampant, would be lost when neighbors killed neighbors for a few morsels of food, or even one drink of water. Then there would be the gangs. Human nature included the ability to commit deplorable acts against one another. Those wired with one too many Y chromosomes or with a few extra brain cells and a Napoleonic complex would assemble like-minded miscreants, who together would rape, murder, and take from others.

  He dreaded those days, which he knew were as inevitable as each day’s sunrise and sunset. What would he and his friends become when he/they took lives to protect their own? Would they become the cold-blooded murderers he reviled? Would they eventually forget their humanity and their love for others, being only concerned for their survival at all costs?

  He believed that these concerns separated him from the extreme survivalist, who desires the apocalypse, drawn by a longing for a license to murder with impunity and embracing the accompanying loneliness that would follow civilization’s downfall. Like most preppers, Max prepared so that he and those whom he cared for could survive.

  He wanted no part of the coming apocalypse. Nevertheless, whether he wanted it or not, he was ready for it.

  “Done,” he said out loud.

  Max would have loved to sleep now. He desperately needed it, having only had a few hours of sleep the last few days of long driving and lots of physical exertion. He was exhausted, but the Kings’ party was minutes away, and as exhausted as he felt, he made a promise. Much more, living with so many worries, he needed the mental diversion and to be with his friends.

  He exited from the front door to keep up appearances, just in case someone might be watching. After locking up the beach warehouse, he stopped and stood on the street, looking with admiration at his years of work and some of his finest preparations. He was sure no one could tell that this home was any different from any of the others on this block. He had a lot pride in the planning, its design, and the workmanship that went into this house. However, worries always filled his mind with doubt, and an overriding need to be careful. So, even though he had conducted this exercise what seemed like a thousand times, he once again scrutinized the house objectively, making sure there were no breaches in his security and that no one could see the secrets within. No, he was sure. It looked damned good.

  He started walking toward his beach home, but then another sensation stopped him cold. He felt as if someone was watching him. He hesitated and then turned around, facing the beach warehouse once more. His prideful smile now erased, he started to look around the street and then to other houses. He was probably just being paranoid and was just second-guessing himself, but his life and the life of the Kings depended on his being careful. He searched for something out of place, or someone who didn’t belong. There were two different trucks he didn’t recognized parked near the beginning of their block, but that was not uncommon with so many visitors to this place and a couple of houses being rented to people he didn’t know. Out the corner of his eye, he sensed some movement at Feinstein’s bedroom window, but immediately dismissed this as well. There was no one there. He w
as tired. The movement was in his mind.

  He turned and walked through his beach house gates and into his home to clean up and relax a little. It was time to celebrate his preparedness. After this, he believed they might never again have reason to celebrate. He was right.

  17.

  Prying Eyes

  7:30 P.M.

  Judas Feinstein was always leering at his neighbors. Plying either his binoculars or his telescope, he searched for hours each day, often feeding his fat jowls, but never removing his eyes from his prey. This was his Internet. Like surfing the web, he never knew what he was searching for, until he found it, or them. But like any skill, exercised over the years, he was expert in knowing his neighbors’ windows, terraces, and pools better than they did. He relished invading their private lives unknowingly with his prying eyes. His rewards were abundant, as he often found a neighbor or two without clothes or in the middle of an argument. Occasionally, he would catch others who believed they were hidden on the beach, or in their driveways, or in their cars, doing things they shouldn’t. His eyes searched everywhere and anywhere, hoping for some action.

  Judas also had his favorites, those whose routines he had memorized. He pointed his prying eyes towards his two favorite dykes, Eve and Alice, who lived full-time in RP, three doors down at 20. They often loved to sun in the nude on their terrace, feeling safe, while he would stare at their bodies. Of the two, the youngest - he called her Eve even though she could have been Alice - was his most desired. Judas knew every curve and blemish of Eve’s beautiful body, often glistening in the sun from sweat and tanning oil. If he were really lucky, he would catch them in their love making.

  A noise below interrupted his interlude. He looked down and to his left and recognized his strangest neighbor, Maxwell Thompson. He met him a couple of times and hated him from the beginning, mostly because he never told Judas what he did, and his curtains were always drawn so that he could never see in. Like his business is more important than everyone else’s. He also hated Thompson because his large inland house, next door to him, had the highest terrace on their block. Not only did it obstruct his seeing summer sunrises, it also restricted him from seeing the terrace and most of the house of Max’s next-door neighbor, Clydeston. Judas often wondered what kind of erotic show he was missing, especially since Clydeston always had some sort of hottie for a girlfriend. One night last year, Clydeston bought two hotties home. He could see them get out of Clydeston’s Ferrari convertible, but he couldn’t see anything else because of his damned neighbor Thompson.

  Thompson’s inland house next door to him at 27 was even stranger than Thompson was, or was it even a real house. Thompson already had his beach side home at 28, so it made no sense that he maintained an inland house that no one ever stayed in and was never rented. So, what’s the deal? Its lights would go on and off like clockwork to appear as if someone was occupying it. Nevertheless, any idiot could tell he used timers. Then there were the giant loads of supplies and strange hours. Thompson would sometimes show up at odd times with one of his two vehicles. He would park in the extra-large garage, and then disappear for hours, before reemerging out the front door and walking to this beach house across the street. Sometimes, he would never appear to come out of his front door and then magically appear outside his beachside home hours later, as if he made himself invisible to get across the street.

  Last night, he came in with his trailer full and canopied, which prevented Judas from seeing its cargo. All evening and today, he was there. Then, just now, right after sunset, he opened up his front door, walked to the street, turned and stared at his house, and smiled like some idiot for what seemed like five minutes. Before going home, his whole demeanor changed, and he started looking around, and then right at Judas. As if Thompson knew, Judas was spying on him. But, Thompson couldn’t see him, he was sure of it, as he put a special reflective film on his windows to enable his daylight peeping. Before sunset, Judas always made sure he wasn’t backlit, using The Clapper, so he didn’t have to move his large frame to turn off the lights. That way, someone like Thompson couldn’t see him. Yet, there was Thompson staring right at him, through his window, as if saying, “I see you asshole,” through his binoculars.

  Then Thompson shook his head, turned his back to Judas and left.

  Judas put his binoculars down on the table in front of him and grabbed his Mexican cell phone. He held the number 2 key down until it was ringing.

  “¿Qué huele carajo?” yelled out of his earpiece, which he promptly muffled by putting his oversized head against it.

  “Seenyour Rodrigo? Ahhh… Esta Judas,” Judas said, struggling with his broken Spanish, his flabby face turning red.

  “I know who it is. What do you want?” Rodrigo yelled back in perfect English.

  “Seenyour Thompson brought back another big load of something last night. I don’t know what it was, because it was covered, but there was a lot of it. I think it might have been drugs or something.”

  “I don’t pay you to think. Is that all?”

  “Si... I mean yes.”

  “Fine, call me when you have something useful to report.” With that, he hung up.

  “But, should I…” Judas moved the phone away from his ear and looked at it to confirm that Rodrigo hung up on him.

  “Bloody fucking drug dealers,” he yelled at his phone, slamming it down on the table in front of him. The flabby folds of his arm, absorbing the blow, swayed back and forth. His wispy white eyebrows were furrowed in fury, and the blood vessels under the pale skin of his forehead popped out.

  He wished he could check out Thompson’s house further and see what he was up to. However, all his windows were tinted or mirrored so that you couldn’t look in them. It looked like he had security cameras, so he couldn’t very well stick his face up against the window.

  “Bloody hell,” Judas shouted again.

  He had other work to do. He stuck his bloodshot right eye into his telescope and swung it around to the Smith’s residence at 24, who as luck would have it were barbequing in their swimsuits on their terrace. Mrs. Smith was hot and was wearing a nice bikini.

  Judas forgot about Thompson and stared intently in his telescope, licking his lips at what was unfolding before his eyes.

  ~~~

  Rodrigo didn’t have time for this now. He knew he would have to deal with Max soon, but he had been avoiding it for years, ever since his father Felix “El Chorro” Menendez put him in charge of their Sonora Mexico operations. Max was a friend of the family since the day he kicked their asses in the streets of Puerto Penasco when they were picking on that maricon Miguel. He knew Max was up to something and was probably hording some contraband, but he didn’t want to anger his father, as much as he would like to take down Max once and for all. Maybe it would be soon. He took in the last draw of his Dos Equis and put it down loudly, purposely interrupting the only two men in the room, who were focused intently on their own beers, their game of dominos, and the older one regaling with bravado to the younger one about his sexual exploits. Rodrigo only had two esclavos at the compound to check on this lead. The rest of his ascinos were already at their homes, ready when he needed them for something important.

  “¡Cabrónes,” he yelled, enjoying the fear his power created.

  “Averiguáis la casa de Señor Max. That maricon Judas called and said Max brought back another shipment. Park a block away, and watch what happens tonight and tomorrow and report to me. Stay in your car and wait for my call, unless you see something. If you do, report to me first. Do not engage him.”

  “No problema, Rodrigo,” one of the two replied.

  “And be careful,” Rodrigo continued, “We know he has weapons and how to use them. So tread lightly, or you might end up muertos from your stupidity.”

  “No problema, Rodrigo,” they said in unison, stood up and left without asking another question.

  18.

  The Party

  9:30 P.M.

  "This is
not science fiction, Clyde. This is fact." Max was very animated at the challenge laid out before him by Clyde, saying in so many alcohol-flavored words that he was just another “George-Noory-listening fool” who believed in any crazy scenario and that this most recent one didn’t have even a remote element of truth. Game on.

  The debate started when Clyde said he could run his whole house on his new iPad. Max said it wouldn’t matter when the next big CME wiped out all his electronic toys, what would he have to show for himself?

  Bill was going to enjoy this, mostly because Clyde was such a pompous SOB, who was due for a tongue-lashing. Max was just the man to do it.

  "Every one hundred years, the Earth experiences massive solar storms like the one that hit in September 1859.

  "The whole world as far south as Cuba witnessed auroras in the skies for several days. All telegraph communications went down. Telegraph lines exploded, raining sparks and fire on terrified witnesses, even electrocuting some. There were no other electric gadgets then and no computers with circuit boards. Nothing else for the EMPs to fry.

  "Now imagine if this were to happen today. Anything that could have conducted electrical current did, because of the massive magnetic waves that pummeled the Earth then. You think your iPhones, iPads, TV's, & and other useless things would survive? No, computers run everything we have now: cars, appliances, pacemakers, games. Everything we depend on runs on electric and would be fried in an instant with a large 1859-sized EMP. Power grids would go down permanently, and would take ten to twenty or more years to replace. No power for twenty years. All sectors of society would collapse: banking, medicine, factories, transportation, farming. All wiped out. It would be the end of our world as we know it." Max had his prey cornered, and he wasn't going to let up.