United States Of Apocalypse

by Mark Tufo

“Well, your life could use some meat in it,” Pheebz said. She took a full piece of steak from the plate and motioned for Darlene to do the same.

  Darlene took the piece already cut into. She was hungry, but she could fill up on biscuits and mashed potatoes. Herbert deserved a full chunk of meat.

  “Did you let the boys have some?” Darlene asked. It didn’t look like either of the boys had taken a bite of their food.

  Rosemary looked down at her plate, which was still full of the food she’d prepared. “They are vegans.”

  “So were you up until five minutes ago,” Pheebz said.

  “I had a momentary lapse of judgment.”

  “I’ll keep my thoughts to myself in front of the children,” Pheebz said.

  Darlene cut her steak in thirds and stared at Rosemary, daring her to speak. Darlene didn’t like the woman very much right now. Her poor kids had had to watch her stuff a succulent steak in her mouth when everyone else was in the other room, and she didn’t even share it with them.

  “Can I ask if they want a piece?” Darlene asked Rosemary. She hoped she wasn’t being pushy or butting in, but she didn’t care right now.

  “You can ask, but they’ll say no,” Rosemary said.

  “Yes, please,” one of them said, almost in a whisper.

  “And you, buddy?” Darlene asked the other twin.

  He nodded his head and smiled.

  Darlene handed over each of them a chunk from her steak.

  “You eat. I’ll give them some of mine,” Herbert said. “I can fill up on mashed potatoes.”

  “That was my plan,” Darlene smiled.

  Pheebz smiled and cut off a small piece from her steak too and put it on the plate of one of the boys, following up with a piece for his brother. Boys, she knew, could eat their weight in meat.

  “Eat up,” Herbert said, looking sideways at his sister. Rosemary was pouting, head down, moving her food around with a fork. “Ro, would you like another piece?”

  Rosemary lifted her head and grinned. “I think I’m giving up on being a vegan. It’s about time anyway. You know me. These fads only last so long.”

  Darlene laughed and scooped a generous helping of mashed potatoes onto her plate. “Should we save some for John?”

  “I’ll grill up another steak for him when he wakes up,” Herbert said.

  “Feel free to make an extra for me,” Rosemary said and pulled the bowl of mashed potatoes to her.

  “We need to watch what we eat. I know this is a nice meal, but we can’t do this every night. Pheebz, you need to start taking stock of what we have and what we might need. If I have to, I’ll go into town and take a look around, but I think we’re on our own,” Herbert said. He looked at his sister again. “I really wish you’d been smart and brought real food with you.”

  “I couldn’t carry all of it,” she said defensively.

  “You still have food? I’m not talking sticks and berries.”

  Rosemary nodded and winked. “You know that I know I’m crazy, but I’m crazy like a fox, big brother. Remember last year when I told you this was going to happen?”

  “You said it would be a zombie apocalypse,” Pheebz said.

  “Well, this is the apocalypse minus the zombies. I used the extra bedroom for storage. Thirty cases of water, thirty cases of canned corn. Thirty cases of canned carrots. Lots of things in thirties,” Rosemary said.

  “Why thirty?” Darlene asked.

  Rosemary smiled. “Thirty is a power number, dear. It’s a strength sign.”

  “Please spare us the crazy talk so I can eat,” Herbert said.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Day 13 - North Korea

  “The Americans are in turmoil. The fabric of their imperialist society has already started to tear. We are ready to attack at your order, Supreme Leader,” General Chan, leader of the Armed forces, said. Medals and ribbons were so numerous they covered the entire breast of his deep green uniform jacket and both arms, and they had begun to creep onto his right pant leg.

  “What do you believe the casualty rate will be once we are engaged in battle?” Puon Too asked. At twenty-three, he was the youngest leader North Korea had ever borne witness to. He sat behind his large desk, his eyes looking at the map of the United States and the proposed areas of invasion. His long black hair was tied back in a ponytail and wrapped in red silk. His advisers had told him it would be prudent to adhere to one of the standard twenty-two sanctioned haircuts the country approved of. Instead of yielding to their desire, he had altered the list to include five newer trends including his preferred ponytail. The military had mistakenly assumed they had finally had someone in power that would be easily malleable. If anything, he would become more steadfast in his beliefs because he did not want to seem weak in their eyes.

  He was fearful that because of his unwillingness to compromise, he might incur the wrath of a full military coup and had therefore come up with an invasion plan for the United States. He personally had nothing against the U.S. He just anticipated it would get the generals off his back as they pondered a futile exercise. When they’d presented him with a valid plan, he had almost cancelled it before it could get off the ground. His advisers warned him it would be unwise, that the military was already grooming a replacement. Within a matter of months, he had been swept up in a suicidal plan to take down the most powerful country in the world, and he was too cowardly and powerless to stop it.

  The thermonuclear device had been hidden in a lead-lined ship transport canister supposedly filled with cars from their neighbor to the south. From San Diego, a tractor-trailer had taken the bomb to an installation in Colorado, where a team of engineers on a work visa for the University of Colorado had put the bomb pieces back together. Not once did any of them question the irony of their situation. They’d been allowed to work in the United States as an initiative to promote peace through science.

  Once it was together, the scientists shipped it to Wyoming to a team of three operatives who had come in across the Canadian border. Their cover had been a hunting expedition in the Canadian high country.

  Puon Too was convinced that somewhere along this elaborate, bold, and reckless plan, the American authorities would discover the bomb and stop it long before it detonated. He’d been welded into a corner once he was told that the bomb was placed inside the caldera. He had no choice but to give the order to detonate. With a heavy heart, he knew he was putting into motion a series of events that would lead to the destruction of much of the world.

  “We believe that the Americans have lost the will to fight and will surrender almost immediately.”

  “This? This is something you believe? That the country that gave the world John Wayne, Rambo, and Die Hard will just quit fighting? The casualty rate, General—I want a realistic number.”

  “There is not a North Korean soldier or citizen that would not die for you.”

  “Are you not listening to me, General? Just because we are killing Americans does not mean that I am in a rush to have our own people die as well.”

  The General’s face became taut. He did not like to be berated, especially from someone that was younger than his own son. “Without the secondary nuclear events, we believe that the coalition forces will suffer in excess of twenty-five million deaths.”

  Puon Too winced.

  “If you allow the next wave of bombs to be set off, we feel that the Americans will capitulate immediately, much like Japan had during World War II.”

  Puon Too leaned forward, placing his head in his hands. “Get it done and leave me alone.” Puon Too cried when the General shut his door. “How many human beings have I just murdered?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Day 13 - Manhattan

  Mike had been doing a healthy dose of nothing except reading the entire day. He was relieved when the lights came back on. “Maybe the aristocratic asshole was right.” He laughed at his own words. “Yeah, right.” Mike was torn between staying and watching Tynes’ house
and the black panther or heading home. He knew if he left, the neighbors would tear it to shreds when the looting started. He wasn’t too worried about the cat. The animal looked like it could take care of itself. Then there was the question of whether Tynes could even make it. A cop might have enough clout to get through some roadblocks, but all he’d be bringing with him was an attitude, and that generally got you locked up. Mike’s decision to not go would become infinitely easier the following morning. He was just about ready to lie down on the couch when he looked up the stairs.

  “Who’s going to know?”

  He grabbed the banister and headed up.

  “Holy cow,” he said when he opened the French doors to the master bedroom. “So this is how the other half lives.” The room was the size of his apartment. A large four-poster king-sized bed sat in the middle. To the far right sat a Victorian aged dresser; a small jewelry box and some change littered the top. In the corner was a small makeup vanity with three lighted mirrors. On the other side was an elliptical exercise machine that was currently doing its pre-ordained role as clothes hanger. If Mike was impressed by the bedroom, he was nearly overwhelmed by the bathroom. Marble floors led to a shower that could accommodate three people. Shower heads lined the walls and ceiling.

  “Like being in a damned rainstorm,” Mike said, awed as he turned the water on. “I am so doing this.” He began to strip down immediately. “He would be so pissed off if he knew I was using his personal spa!” The lights flickered again. Mike thought he was going to have to jump out before the water turned to ice. He relaxed when it stayed on. After a healthy scrubbing, he used one of the plush towels to dry off and wrapped himself in one of Tynes’ robes even though he looked like a kid trying on his dad’s stuff.

  “I could get used to this.” He ran and took a flying leap onto the purple duvet-covered bed. He had not realized just how exhausted he was until he lay down. The day had worn him out, and he was far from out of danger. “Tomorrow, I start over. First thing though, these fucking pillows have to go.” He tossed the dozen or so pillows around the room like a child in the throes of a tantrum, shut off the light, and almost before his head could hit the one remaining pillow, he was asleep.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Day 14 - Manhattan

  Sunlight was beginning to spill through the windows, but that wasn’t what caused Mike to wake. The panther was curled up against his side. “What the fuck?” he said quietly. He would have pushed the thing away if he wasn’t afraid it would seek some sort of retribution. As scary as the prospect of death by cat was, that wasn’t what woke him either. Years of being on his own had honed a skill in him that many others lacked. When no one else had your back but yourself, you tended to watch it vigilantly. The house had an expectant stillness. He wasn’t alone. His shotgun was next to the bed, and he grabbed it. Whoever had come in was silent, and they were close. He knew he wouldn’t have enough time to even get out of bed before they were upon him. His pulse quickened as his eyes narrowed. He knew a time like this would eventually come from a home invader seeking supplies, he just didn’t figure it would be so soon.

  A head darted in and looked around, this was immediately followed by a large caliber revolver and an even larger man.

  “In my bed? In my fucking bed, Mike?”

  Mike relaxed his finger on the trigger when he realized it was the cop.

  “Is that my fucking robe? It is! Dammit!” Tynes put the gun away and was now pacing around the room. “You can’t just put on another man’s clothes, Mike, it’s just not right. And what the fuck are you doing with the cat? That thing is a stray, probably has ticks and fleas...and now it’s in my bed? Come on, man. I leave you alone for one night and you destroy the place! My wife sees the pillows like this, her head is going to combust!”

  “Hey man, Baggie here got in the house on his own somehow. You didn’t see the hole?”

  “Baggie? Hole?”

  Mike shrugged. “I just took a shower, man, that’s all. I got out, my clothes were filthy, there was a nice robe, and I used it. As for the pillows, come on man, don’t tell me you’re a fan of them.”

  “That’s not the point. My wife is.”

  “Speaking of which, what are you doing here?”

  “I could ask the same of you.”

  “I swear to you, my plan has been to head out after I got some sleep. Just let me get my stuff together, and I’m gone.”

  “Mike, we need to talk.” Tynes sat down on the bed.

  “Oh shit, this isn’t where you say you have this weird attraction to me, is it?”

  “What? No. Cut it out. This is serious. I want you to know that no matter what you decide, you are welcome to stay here. Is that understood?”

  “Uh, yeah. What the hell is going on?”

  “There’s really no good way to say this. Boston has been bombed.”

  “Bombed? What the fuck are you talking about? Like bombers?”

  “Nuclear device.”

  Mike felt like a bird of prey had shoved its claws though his chest and pierced his heart. The pain was so acute he wasn’t sure he’d be able to catch his breath.

  Tynes moved in closer and wrapped his arms around the man. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he repeated as Mike wailed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Day 15 I-70

  Darlene and John found a plethora of chainsaws in the red barn. When Darlene went to pick up a huge one, John put up a hand.

  “What?” she asked.

  “We’d both need to hold it at the same time. And nothing personal, but I don’t think you’re strong enough.”

  “Wow. You’re a dick,” Darlene said. She picked up the smallest chainsaw she could find, dragging it dramatically on the ground. “Can you help me with this one?”

  John didn’t take the bait and focused on the chainsaws, selecting a decent-sized one from the display.

  Darlene put the small chainsaw down and grabbed the next biggest size from what John had selected. Again, he didn’t say a word.

  He’d been quiet since his return. Darlene was surprised he’d volunteered this morning to help. Herbert had given the man a wide berth and didn’t ask for help or include him in the daily plans. But during breakfast, John had volunteered to start cutting down the trees in front of the house.

  Cutting down trees was slow, backbreaking work, and after a half hour, Darlene was still working on her first one.

  John had cut through his first, and he was a sweaty mess, but Darlene still thought he looked good. She looked away and went back to work, her goggles steaming up in the heat.

  His wife is missing, you slut, she thought. Keep it in your pants and relax.

  She turned to see him bending over, and she checked out his butt. Darlene rationalized she could look but not touch. There was no harm in that.

  “How’s it going?” Herbert asked, walking up. He grinned at Darlene, and she blushed. He’d watched her staring at John.

  “Don’t you have a bulldozer in one of the barns?” Darlene asked.

  “I wish. Then we could clear this in a few hours instead of the days it will take you,” Herbert said.

  “I don’t suppose you want to help?” she asked.

  “I’m almost done with the perimeter fence.” Herbert had spent the last two days reinforcing the fences, closing up the gaps and clearing the brush on either side so no one could sneak up to the house. He’d also unspooled barbed wire, creating a maze on the sides and back of the house so no one could simply walk straight up.

  “We still need to go into town and to your sister’s house to get her supplies,” Darlene said. They’d talked about it and decided the property defenses were more important. Once the trees were cleared and everything was in place, they could roam and see what the outside world offered.

  Darlene had been sleeping in a chair in the living room, and her back hurt; it hurt more so with a chainsaw in her hand. Last night, John had slept a good deal, only waking to eat and watch the news.


  He hadn’t spoken yet about where his wife was or what he’d seen, and no one pressed him. He’d talk when he wanted to. Darlene knew he was still in shock over whatever had happened.

  “I could take a ride over to the Boyette farm and see if Joe has a tractor or a Cat to use,” Herbert said. “I just hate wasting time running fools’ errands.”

  John stepped back, turning off the chainsaw as the tree he was working on began to fall.

  “Timber!” Darlene yelled, knowing how goofy it was. She couldn’t help it.

  Once the tree had hit the ground and settled, John put the chainsaw down and walked over to Herbert. “I think this will take us a week to clear. There are too many trees and this is getting old. I think a ride over to the neighbor’s farm would really help us.”

  Herbert nodded. “Let’s go. One of you stays here to keep guard and keep working.”

  “Not it,” Darlene said quickly.

  John shrugged and picked up the chainsaw before walking toward the house.

  “He’ll come around,” Herbert said once John was walking up to the porch.

  “I hope so. He’s a moody guy, but I understand why,” Darlene said. “Let’s go and see what trouble we can find.”

  “Grab the two rifles and make sure you have your Desert Eagle loaded,” Herbert said.

  They drove off in Herbert’s pickup truck, going east and passing three farmhouses scattered down the road. Herbert told Darlene which family lived in each. They didn’t see anyone out, and there were no cars on the road.

  When they pulled into the long winding drive of the Boyette farm, Herbert beeped the horn. “It’s always best for Joe to know he has company. He’s too good with a rifle to take a chance.”

  “Comforting,” Darlene said.

  They pulled up to the front of the house, which was twice the size of Herbert’s home. It was a two-story with a wraparound porch and an open three-car garage. A large barn stood on either side, rearing up behind the main house.