The No Where Apocalypse (Book 1): Stranded No Where

by Lake, E. A.

  “All four of your posse carried 45s. That told me maybe more of you did.” My gaze returned to his smooth face. “I just put two and two together on a hunch, that’s all. And I’m not from here, originally. I’m from Chicago.”

  His smile grew. “I went to school at the University of Minnesota. Just finished my masters there at the Carlson School of Management. Though I hail from Iron River, I had bigger plans. Much bigger plans.”

  I looked around nodding. “Like taking over a dump like this?” No sense in holding back. This fellow liked to talk.

  His laugh came from his belly and lasted several seconds. “Absolutely not,” he countered, steering me further down the main drag. “I was headed for New York this fall. About to start my career on Wall Street. Then this,” he waved his arms over his head, “whatever this is, happened. But I would be damned if I was going to spend my time playing second fiddle to my uncle back home. No, I was meant to rule.”

  “So you came here,” I said. “Anarchy by opportunity.”

  He tipped his head slightly. “Some would call it that. But don’t believe all you’ve been told. True anarchy had begun long before my arrival. Hoarding of limited supplies, letting neighbors starve, and run the risk of freezing to death. Families without any clean drinking water. That, my friend, is truly a lost community.”

  “So you killed the sheriff and the mayor and made it your own personal slice of hell. I get it. It was there for the taking, right?”

  He stopped and pointed at a bench in the shade. I sat and he joined me, our knees almost touching.

  “Those were both unfortunate but necessary events. The sheriff and his deputy killed two of mine first. And the mayor threatened us; told us if we didn’t leave he’d have us killed. I knew it was a bluff, but when he came at me with a knife — after I agreed to meet with him alone and speak sensibly with him — well, things had to be done.”

  I think he wanted me to view him as the savior of the town and its residents. But the two nearby armed guards made that that tough to swallow.

  “I would have preferred to have Mrs. Luke herself, you understand.” His tone was no longer light, but low and solemn. “She’s cost me valuable time and resources. She needed to answer for her sins against this place.”

  “You mean you?” I asked. “She sinned against you, in your mind.”

  He shook my comment away. “No, I mean the community of Covington. And everyone here.”

  It was bullshit and we both knew it. But it was better not to call his bluff.

  “Do you know the only working vehicle is this place is a late 50s snow plow?” He asked as if I cared. “That means when we set up our supply line with large fish camp going up near Marquette, we only had one gas-guzzling vehicle to work with.”

  “I would think you had some older cars or motorcycles that still worked. Few of those around I bet.”

  He bristled at my observation. “Anyone who had one of those was gone by the time we showed up. Hell, we walked here ourselves. All 30 of us.”

  “Why here?” I asked. It was something I had wondered about ever since Warren had told me about this place and its invaders.

  “I was born to lead,” he replied in a tone of great pride. “That’s what I planned on doing in New York, eventually. But the apocalypse had other plans for me. So, instead of sulking and letting my opportunity slip away, I sought out the next best solution.”

  “But why Covington? There must have been easier, closer spots?”

  He shrugged, clapping his hands lightly near his knees.

  “After the power went down, my uncle began to employ many locals to serve as his protectors. Food, water, shelter…all guaranteed. Others, who wanted to try and make it on their own, were on his doorsteps within sixty days. When I mentioned I wanted a key role, he suggested I find that position elsewhere. He has three sons, thus, he didn’t need another general.”

  The way I saw it, this mess was his uncle’s fault. At least partially. If only Stuart had stayed put in Ironwood, then this plague would have never happened.

  “It’s location,” he answered in a confident tone. “It’s at the center of the route from Ironwood to Marquette. And it’s a straight shot south Iron Mountain. All commerce will flow through here shortly. And when it does, I will be the tax collector.”

  Shit, this guy knew his stuff. No wonder he was so dangerous.

  Day 321 - continued - WOP

  I followed Stuart Callies to his office. A neat little place that had once served as the center of government for the sleepy little community no doubt. Now it was lined with several dozen of the most lost souls I had ever laid eyes upon.

  Most wore tattered rags as clothes, with shoes and boots showing holes. Men with long stringy hair and longer snarled beards, women with their heads down, hiding their dirty and sunburned faces from my gaze. A few had small children. In the far corner of an anteroom to Stu’s office, I noticed a group of what I assumed was teenagers. They were the only ones talking, leaning near one another sharing whispers. Their eyes held secrets their tongues dared not share.

  “These folks are waiting for transport to Marquette,” Stu stated, leading me into his large well-lit office, thanks to many clean bare windows.

  “Looks like they’re ready to go.”

  “Just waiting on my people to pump some gas from the ground,” he continued. “That damned truck burns an entire 100-gallon tank going between here and Marquette. We get five gallons at a crack, so it takes a while to fill it. But it will be an even better trip now that Matt has recovered the missing medicine.”

  I sat back in a luxurious leather chair, hearing the material squeak against my sweaty shirt.

  “And what do you get out of the people and the drugs?”

  “That should be obvious, Bob. I send them people and supplies; they send us fish in return. Salted and cured whitefish. We’ve killed just about every living thing within a five-mile radius of town. We’re going to need that fish, and soon.”

  “So you enslave people to the fish camps, and in return, they send you food. Pretty sweet deal, unless you’re one of them.”

  He leaned forward on his elbows against the dark oak desk. “These people will starve here eventually. There, they’ll be fed as long as they produce. Some will catch fish, some will clean the fish, others will pack it and cure it. Here, if they can’t grow it or kill it, they’re of no good to anyone.”

  “Seems kind of shady to me.” A young woman, as clean and bright as Stu came in and served us cool lemonade. When she turned to leave, I noticed her white sundress, covered in smaller red flowers, perhaps roses. How out of place these two appeared.

  “I know you don’t see me as a modern day savior to these people, but it really is better than the alternative they faced without me. At least I have a plan, I know how to obtain and utilize resources. The people in charge before me were dolts. By now, there’d only be a handful of people left alive in Covington. Under my guidance, our population has remained steady in the low 300s.”

  I sat forward, staring into his medium blue eyes. “Here’s the bottom line. I don’t give a shit about any of this. I struck a deal with your man, and I expect that deal to be honored. So give me the salt and lids and my gun back, and we can part ways.”

  He nodded thoughtfully at my demands. At any moment, I expected him to open a drawer, take out a gun, and shoot me smack dab in the middle of my forehead.

  “You’re going to need to be a little more patient, Bob. You see I have a very limited supply of salt at this time. I can’t spare 50 pounds.”

  Okay, this wasn’t good, but it was workable.

  “What do you say you give me back 300 rounds of ammo and we’ll call it even then?” Hell, he wasn’t the only negotiator in the room.

  His sour expression told me he didn’t like my counter proposal.

  “When the truck comes back from Marquette later this evening, I’ll have the salt. If you don’t want to wait that long, that’s fine with
me.” His eyes narrowed to the size of almonds. I wasn’t going to like what he had to say next. “But I’m not giving up any of that ammunition now that it’s here. So you’ll just go home with a box of canning lids and whatever’s left of your pride.”

  “That’s not what Matt and I agreed—”

  “Matt doesn’t have a final say in negotiations,” he interrupted loudly. “I, and I alone make the final call. I wanted Marge Luke back here. I could have sent her to a fish camp and received her weight in fish every year for the few pitiful years she’d last.”

  His rant caught me off-guard. Thus far, he’d been calm and polite. But, like with most narcissists, his mood flipped whenever he didn’t get his way.

  “I’d rather know that a thief received her just reward than have something I could just take from you,” he continued, calming with each word. “But I’m a gentleman and a man of my word, even when given by others. So, you and young Miss Luke are safe as long as you are my guests. You’ll receive plenty of lids and a generous amount of salt. But not until it arrives later tonight. You will be my guests again. And we’ll all get through this ordeal in one piece. I trust I’m being reasonable enough for you?”

  He was the man in control. He was the one with the guards. Smart to separate Violet and me, he proved his true intentions. As long as every detail went the way he desired, everyone would he happy. And by everyone, he meant himself and himself alone.

  “I trust you can wait…Bob?”

  I nodded. Like I had a choice. He had other plans, but I had no idea what they were. But something told me I wouldn’t be in the dark for long.

  He snapped and pointed at one of the guards. Immediately the older man with the sawed of 12-gauge left the room.

  Yeah, I wasn’t going to have to wait too long.

  Day 321 - continued - WOP

  The bastard had Violet brought to us, and that made me nervous. So far, as much as I knew, she’d kept her mouth shut. I wondered how long that would continue once Stuart Callies began in on her.

  The self-appointed leader excused himself and left the room with all of his people following. The double doors were closed and I heard them walk away on the hardwood floor. Only then did I glance at the girl.

  “Well?” she demanded, giving me a look of supreme anger.

  “There’s a delay,” I answered, reaching to pat her hands on her lap. “We have to wait for the salt to arrive tonight sometime. I think we’ll have to stay one more night in our quaint accommodations.”

  “That’s just great,” she snapped, slapping my hand away. “And you believe him. The man who kills people just for fun.”

  I knew she wouldn’t be thrilled at the news, so her reaction was about what I expected. Pushing away from her chair, she began to pace behind me.

  “This is bullshit!” she seethed. “We should have just let them kill us all in Grandma Lettie’s driveway. It would have saved us a long walk to our deaths.”

  I needed to slow her worth down. Maybe a little logic would help. “I don’t think he plans on hurting us, Violet. Actually, I believe his story about the salt.”

  Her eyes rolled one way as her head lolled the opposite. “Wow, you are stupid aren’t you? They never intended to trade us anything. Why can’t you see that?”

  “That doesn’t make sense, Violet. If anything these people of his have been decent to us. Hell, even Callies himself has acted anything but severe. I think he wants the trade as much as we do.”

  “He does.” Another voice entered the discussion from behind, causing Violet and me to jump. It was the woman in the white sundress.

  “If you two would come with me,” she offered, opening the doors fully as she spoke. “I’ll take you to a room where you can get cleaned up a little.”

  “I don’t want to clean up,” Violet countered with a dash of spite. “I want to go home, to my mother.”

  The woman smiled grossly and nodded. “And you will. All in good time. Just follow me please.”

  Waving us forward, I had to push gently on Violet’s shoulders to get her to move. She looked up at me timidly, fright covering her face.

  “Don’t worry,” I whispered. “I got your back.”

  We moved as one, Violet grasping my hand tightly with both of hers. As we followed Susan out of the office, I wondered if anyone had my back.

  We were led out through the same hall I entered, still full of the same lifeless lot the originally greeted me. Out the front door, the woman turned right and peeked back at us.

  “This way,” she said in a cheery voice as if she were leading a field trip at the zoo.

  Pausing ever so slightly, I studied our surroundings. No guards bothered to follow us. The two at the end of the street behind us disappeared around the corner of a building, not giving us a second glance. Ahead a few townsfolk staggered in our direction, heads down, hands in their pockets as they passed. I almost ran into someone. It was her again.

  “If you want to run off…” she stated in a terse way, “…go ahead. You won’t have your lids or salt. No one will give you back your gun or your wagon. But no one will stop you either.”

  My confused look made her smile, a little.

  “What exactly don’t you understand?” she asked. “What was it that my brother told you that didn’t make sense? Perhaps I can clear it up.”

  First off, I didn’t know they were brother and sister. But that really didn’t matter at that point. “Where are you taking us? And what’s going on?”

  She waved for us to follow again. “I’m taking you to a room where you can clean up and put on some fresh clothes. You both look like you’ve seen better days; I thought it was the least we could do for you while you’re delayed.”

  Ah, her idea. He was the monster, she was her brother’s keeper…or attendant…or soul.

  “We’re going to have a nice lunch in a little bit,” she continued as we entered the building next door. It was completely devoid of people, making it feel a bit creepy. “We’ve rigged up a fairly decent shower in here. There’s a large basin that has warm water, enough for both of you. There’s soap and shampoo. Even nice clean towels to use when you’re done.”

  I grabbed her arm, spinning her to face us. “Why are you doing this?” I demanded. My eyes searched for any treachery in hers.

  “Because we’re not bad people, Mr. Reiniger,” she implored. “Apart from what you may have heard about Stuart, he’s not an evil person. He is trying to help.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” Violet inserted, tipping her head to the right. “He’s killed plenty, I was here. One of his men tried to rape my friend. Sounds evil to me.”

  “And that man was punished,” the woman responded quickly. The slight lines on her face told me she was Stuart’s older sister. Spread amongst her auburn hair a few sprigs of gray showed through. “I knew you think things were all right here before we showed up. But they weren’t. No small town would last without food, fresh water, basic supplies, and a plan.”

  Violet stepped closer to argue with her. “I just don’t think—”

  The woman reached and stroked Violet’s dirty face. “You’re such a beautiful child,” she cooed, wiping a smudge of dirt away. “This world has turned our lives upside down, and in an instant. One moment we were watching TV, chatting on our phones and computers. Then, so quickly, everything turned ugly.”

  Violet’s expression softened hearing the sincere words from another.

  “When Matt and I arrived we told my brother the only way we’d help is if we did things the right way,” she said, turning her attention to me. “I’m Susan Weston, Matt’s my husband. Stuart sent for us last winter. Said he needed our help. Help doesn’t include starving, or raping, or killing. Help means compassion.”

  “Well, you’re a real angel of mercy then,” I said, perhaps a little sarcastic. But from what I’d seen thus far, Covington wasn’t a very compassionate place.

  “I don’t expect you to believe me,” Susan went on. �
�Not with the history that Violet and her family have told you. But give it a chance, give us a chance. And you’ll see. This isn’t a bad place, and we’re not bad people.”

  I shrugged and she led us deeper into the building. The jury was still out on this place, and these people. All of these people.

  Day 321 - continued - WOP

  She led us up a tight stairway and onto the second floor. There, in a small room, was the shower she promised. On a desk outside the bathroom door sat clean clothes for each of us.

  “I guessed at your sizes,” she stated, patting the clothes. “They may be a little large, but they’re cleaner than what you have on. The door locks, so you’ll be safe.” She stepped closer to Violet. “And no one will enter this building while you’re in here. You have my word.”

  Violet nodded once, swallowing hard. I knew she was skeptical; hell, I was skeptical. It all seemed too good to be true.

  “There’s a toothbrush for each of you in there.” Susan pointed into the steamy room. “And some powder that I hope you find refreshing. When you’re both done, go back downstairs and into the building we just left. Someone will lead you to the dining hall. We have a nice lunch prepared, and I’ll be sure it’s kept warm until you join Stuart and I.”

  The slap of her sandals disappeared slowly as she left us and descended the stairway. I listened and heard the front door snap shut.

  Glancing back at Violet, I saw her fear rising.

  “I don’t trust her,” she said, pulling on her lower lip. “I don’t know what she’s up to, but I don’t trust this whole place.”

  I turned her for the bathroom, handing her a pile of women’s clothing as she entered.

  “Neither do I,” I stated, reaching to pull the door shut. “But I really want a shower. Don’t you?”

  Studying the room, she shrugged several times. “Okay, but you stay by the door. Don’t leave me.”