THE COLLAPSE: Swantown Road

by Frank Kaminski

  *****

  Stephen made a turtle-faced grimace as the president finished her broadcast. Disgusted, he turned to his wife and said, “I think she should have been a bit less apathetic to the victims of the Chicken Slaughter.” Tarra nodded in agreement and then turned her head back toward the Kays as they pranced from room to room. They had their arms out and flapped like birds as they leapt over several dolls on the floor in the hallway, pretending to be seagulls swooping down to go poop on people.

  “Daddy, what does ‘apathetic’ mean?” Kyla asked and stopped in mid-flight.

  Stephen cocked his head in her direction and said, “It means ‘not interested’, honey.”

  “Oh, okay.” She replied and shrugged, then resumed her flight pattern, shrieking loudly and flying after her sister.

  “Smart girl.” Tarra remarked with a sly grin, but then shushed the girls to keep their volume down because Constantine’s Little Angel was asleep. She then shifted in her chair to angle her body toward her husband and said, “So, what would you have done if you were the president, Mr. Alexander?”

  “Yes! I love it when you ask these questions!” He then shifted his body to face hers. “First, I would have ordered my pilot to turn that plane around and head home, to where the trouble was, to show my support for both government and citizens alike. I can’t believe that she is still going to that party! Anyway. Second, I would take out the power and water in Memphis and the surrounding areas until the People agreed to behave. Lastly, even though I love watching this stuff on TV, if I was the president I would black out the city to media coverage and order a no-fly zone above Memphis to keep the vultures in the network helicopters away from the area.” Stephen said.

  “Media black out, good call. I was thinking the same thing. They are going to twist this stuff ten ways to Sunday. I never would have thought about the water and power, though.” Tarra said, and paused. She continued, “I thought that sounded harsh when you first said it, but it makes sense. Gives the populace some type of incentive to chill out. Everybody needs to take a dump from time to time, and those need to be flushed down with water. And nobody wants to take one in the dark, either.”

  Stephen laughed, and of course the Kays laughed as well from one of the bedrooms when they heard their mother talking about poop. Poop is always funny.

  Stephen said, “Yup. I guess so, when you put it like that. I could be wrong though, it might piss them off even more, especially if they found out the government was involved in suspending their services.”

  “True, true. It’s all a big gamble. People are so fricken weird nowadays. Who knows?” Tarra stated.

  Later that afternoon, the Alexanders received Fish and Connie at their door. Stephen immediately took Fish down to the basement before the Kays could get to him first, where he planned to have a private discussion with him. Connie stayed upstairs with Tarra and promptly and politely asked to see her precious little baby boy.

  Stephen was immediately at a loss of words once he had Fish alone, he didn’t know what to say. He wanted to scold the guy for disappearing on him at the bar, and for being a dumbass because he was messing around with one of his subordinates, and the fact that she was still married, but Fish just stared at him with that trademark shit-eating grin, waiting for his ass-chewing, knowing that it was coming. Stephen stumbled over his own thoughts, and began laughing. The only thing that he could muster was, “Well, how was it?”

  “Dude, it was crazy a-maze-ing!” Fish confessed with delight.

  “I kind of figured it would be. She’s a little hottie!” Stephen admitted, but then turned on his war face and said, “You aren’t going to screw this up, are you? I mean, at work and stuff. You only have eight months left. You’re almost there. Is it all worth it for a piece of ass?”

  “My friend, I don’t think she’s just a piece of ass. I have liked her for a long time, but she was married, and I never thought in a million years that she would have been interested in me if she was ever single again. Technically, she’s not exactly single yet, but geographically she is. Her piece of shit husband is somewhere down in Texas. He doesn’t even talk to her anymore. I really like her, dude! What do you think?” Fish asked, and bit his lip in anticipation of his best friend’s answer and advice.

  Stephen gave in, sighed, and said, “Fuck it, man. Go for it. I got nothing to say other than be careful. Be as careful as you can. After you retire and they pipe you over the side, do whatever you want, but for now, you need to keep this shit as quiet as you can. Don’t go off and get drunk at the bar and tell everybody about what you are doing. I know it will be hard for you, but you need to keep this quiet. Trust me, brother. Word gets around way too quick around this island. Also, you do realize that you’re going to have to be a daddy now, if you want a serious relationship with this girl, right?”

  “I know. I’m ready.” Fish said, confidently.

  “You have my blessing then.” Stephen said. A blessing from Stephen meant a lot to Fish, in fact, it meant pretty much everything to him.

  Fish smiled and wrapped his long arms around his buddy for a big brotherly hug and said, “Thanks, man.”

  Stephen changed his tone and said, “I’m still pissed at you for ditching me at the bar.”

  “I’m sorry about that. It was my idea. I knew you would have tried to stop me. Connie actually wanted to stay until closing and hang out with both of us, and I had to talk her into sneaking out. So don’t be pissed at her, please.” Fish admitted.

  Stephen pointed his finger at Fish and said, “Don’t worry, I knew it was you. She’s way too much of a sweetheart to do something like that on her own!”

  Fish grinned in agreement and asked if Stephen had seen the stuff on the news about the situation in Memphis. They spoke about it for a few minutes then headed back up the stairs to turn the TV onto any one of the multitude of channels that provided non-stop coverage in Memphis.

  Meanwhile, as Stephen had his chat with Fish downstairs, Tarra had her own little chat with Constantine, which, when summarized, was, “If you get Fish in trouble, in ANY way, for ANY reason, I’m coming after you and you’re dead meat.”

  That was pretty much what it had boiled down to.

  Connie acknowledged that she understood, and reassured Tarra that nothing like that would ever happen. She confessed to having a crush on him for quite a while, and that she wanted their relationship to work. Tarra almost laughed when Connie said ‘relationship’.

  Connie added, “You know what? He talks about you all the time. Almost as if he’s the one married to you.”

  “I know. We go back a ways. Same amount of time as Stephen. To the minute, to be exact. He’s always been there for me and Stephen. That’s why I love him and will protect him from anything. From you, too. If necessary.” Tarra sternly replied. Connie didn’t look the least bit nervous at Tarra’s threat, which she read as a good thing. If Connie had been up to no good, or wasn’t really interested in a commitment with Fish, she would have been anxious and defensive when Tarra threatened her. So Tarra smiled and gave her a quick hug and said, “Just keep him fed and watered and you’ll be fine, honey.”

  Fish and Stephen came back up the stairs, and the Kays assaulted Fish in their normal manner, as Connie watched his interaction with the children with great satisfaction.

  Stephen and Tarra went briefly in the kitchen to talk, and Fish plopped down on the couch in the living room.

  After a few moments, Fish yelled, “Hey, what does ‘Marital Law’ mean? I don’t get it. Why would some type of marriage law be put into effect in Memphis?”

  “Marital law?” Stephen asked, curiously rounding the corner into the living room.

  “Martial law, jackass.” Tarra yelled from the kitchen. She didn’t even need to see the TV to know what Fish was talking about.

  “Wow, that’s serious!” Stephen exclaimed, and stood in front of the TV.

  Fish looked confused and said, “Martial law? Like aliens and shit?”
Constantine was the first one to laugh as she held her baby boy. Then Stephen and Tarra. Even the Kays laughed.

  “Martial law is when the military assumes all law enforcement responsibility in a specific area and they have absolute power. Usually a mandated curfew is put into place, and people are restricted to their homes. Anyone outside their homes without a legitimate reason can be immediately detained. Only the President can authorize it.” Stephen explained.

  “That does sound serious.” Fish said. “They just did that to Memphis. It was on the screen a minute ago.”

  *****

  After martial law was established in Memphis, things calmed down a tad and the violence lessened, but not enough. A percentage of the population in and around Memphis continued to rebel against their perceived “oppression”, and skirmishes regularly broke out in the worst parts of the city.

  The soldiers that were ordered to restore law and order became frustrated at their fellow citizens’ disdain for them, and their utter disrespect for their safety and loyalty to the country. Even with full combat gear and body armor, they suffered casualties as if the conflict had been somewhere akin to Kandahar or Bagram in Afghanistan. It was difficult for them to carry out their law enforcement responsibility in accordance with their established rules of engagement, and many chose (or were left with no choice) to ignore those rules and ended up devastating entire mobs of delinquents in the streets. Countless bodies clogged the gutters and littered alleyways. Only a few brave souls dared to carry off their fallen loved ones.

  The media had been forced out of the greater Memphis area, and a no-fly zone was enforced in a fifty-mile radius over the city (just as Stephen Alexander had suggested). Most cellular phones were without signal and internet access was disabled to all but a rare few. The only current, fresh reports on the condition of Memphis had dwindled down to first-person accounts from individuals who had recently evaded the soldiers and successfully escaped the area. Many of them had escaped with pictures and video on their personal devices, which were happily turned over to the networks who were standing by to pay a handsome fee to whoever could produce the juiciest stuff.

  A small number of ‘approved’ media outlets were allowed to accompany designated Public Affairs Officers from the military and federally assigned spokespersons that had been flown in from Washington, DC specifically for that purpose. Across the nation, speculation ensued, as the reports from inside Memphis varied greatly from the media outlets that were not allowed inside. In fact, they almost told two different stories altogether. Facebook, Twitter, and all other social media buzzed with nothing other than Memphis, Memphis, MEMPHIS! What was going on over there? How many are dead? Who was in charge? Why did the President have to resort to martial law? Was it because it was an election year? Was she trying to postpone the vote in November?

  Social media abounded with memorial posts for those who perished inside the city, from both sides. People posted missing persons alerts in desperate hope of finding loved ones who were inside the city before or shortly after the Chicken Slaughter occurred.

  Two camps developed on social media, those who supported the rebels (protesters) and those that claimed to be “Patriots” that supported the government/military. The protesters cried foul and advocated raising awareness of the government’s debauchery. The patriots supported martial law and military action, and defended the government’s actions with vicious posts declaring that the lawbreakers of Memphis were just poor, cruel, rotten people that simply took advantage of a crisis to loot, plunder, rape, and even kill for the sheer enjoyment of it. The soldiers that were deployed to Memphis were just doing their job as ordered. Why did they have to die at the hands these selfish, disrespectful punks? Why couldn’t they just chill out and let everything go back to normal? The patriots, however, were outnumbered by a majority of the population. Most believed that the government was completely out of line. Some even believed, and professed, that the government was attempting to “cleanse” the urban area of Memphis of its poverty-stricken and impoverished individuals. And of course, race was brought into the scheme, since two-thirds of the city was classified as African-American.

  Some of those individuals that claimed governmental treachery had exceptionally large followings on social media accounts, and used their powerful electronic soapboxes to “warn” of a greater government conspiracy, that the “cleansing” will not end in Memphis, and shall continue the progression to every major city in the United States, and maybe even the entire world, until all the dregs on society have been eliminated. Wiped out. Killed. Beware! Your city is NEXT!

  The unfortunate aspect of these prophetic postings and absurd predictions is that they were shared millions upon millions of times. And, of course, since it was officially on Facebook and shared so many times, it had to be true, right? Everything on the internet is true and real.

  Chapter 11 – Fish’s Surprise and The Executive Offer (Order)

  Over on Whidbey Island, not much else had changed in the days following the Chicken Slaughter, other than the occasional argument amongst those who were either passionately for, or against, the government’s occupation of Memphis. Most of them were repeating what they had read on social media, and had nothing new of their own to offer up in the argument. Hardly anyone, save a few older folks, and some so-called ‘paranoid’ folks, began to prepare. Prepare, yes. For what? Who knows. But they were the smart ones. In today’s lingo they would be labeled as “Preppers”.

  In nearby Seattle and Tacoma, things weren’t as humdrum. City center protests were staged in support of the citizens of Memphis. Free Memphis! Leave Memphis! Stop the Slaughter! People marched in great numbers to demonstrate their anger of the occupation of Memphis, and others went ahead and ‘occupied’ the downtown areas much like the Occupy Wall Street groups had done a few years prior to that. By and large, the protests were peaceful in nature and very few were arrested. But, for how long would that last?

  *****

  Stephen had not heard from Fish for a few days, but assumed that he was busy with work and with Constantine. Real busy, alright. Although Stephen appreciated the peace and quiet, he wondered what his best friend was up to, and if he was ever going to get his truck back from him. Stephen was relieved when he finally received a text that Fish would be coming over on Friday, February 8th to drop off his truck and show him his ‘new ride’. He also told Stephen not to worry about helping him with the dropoff, since he would be employing Connie to follow him there to return the truck.

  “Bring over my new ride?” Stephen quoted the text, reading aloud. Tarra heard him while she went around and picked up some used napkins and empty plates that had previously held snack food from the living room.

  “You didn’t expect him to borrow your truck forever, did you?” She asked, walking past him.

  “Do you really want me to answer that?” Stephen laughed.

  “Nope.” Tarra said, with mock seriousness. She already knew the answer.

  “At least I finally get my baby back.” Stephen said with a smile, his arms raised high above his head as he stretched in his recliner. Tarra quickly side-stepped over to him and plopped down hard, butt-to-crotch, on Stephen in mid-stretch.

  “I thought that I was your baby?” She laughed.

  “You are! Too!” Stephen shouted as the air left his lungs from the impact. “You also just ruined any chance of us having any more kids!”

  *****

  It was raining on Friday evening, and the island was dark and chilly when two sets of headlights warned the Alexanders of Fish and Connie’s arrival.

  “I can’t wait to see this!” Stephen exclaimed as he ran to the door. Tarra followed as well, with the Kays at her heels screeching “Uncle Fish!”.

  Tarra told the girls to stay inside, for it was too cold and wet for them to be running around out there. As Stephen remained on their tiny concrete porch to stay dry, he almost gasped as he witnessed Fish plop out of a shiny black mammoth in the driveway. A b
rand new Ford F-150 with a six-inch lift kit and a foglight bar in all its fresh-from-the-dealership glory stood stalwartly in the rain. It had huge tires and a menacing chrome grill-guard. Stephen and Tarra were both speechless as they watched Fish hustle over to Stephen’s truck to let Connie out.

  “What in the hell is that?” Stephen yelled.

  “My new truck!” Fish replied proudly, as he and Connie ran toward them to get out of the rain.

  “It is….pretty big.” Stephen said, not knowing what else to say. Tarra instructed the lovebirds to kick off their shoes as they entered the house.

  “Yeah, it is. That’s why it took so long for me to return your truck. I had to wait for the dealer to jack it up with the lift kit and swap out the stock tires with the big knobbies. Otherwise I would have brought it back sooner.” Fish explained.

  Fish gave Stephen a hopeful glance and asked, “Do you like it?”

  “Yeah, man, it’s pretty nice.” He replied, then added, “How much did that monstrosity cost you?”

  “A little bit more than the Mustang did, after all the work they did to it and the new tires and stuff. But, check this out, I don’t have to make any payments until May!” Fish said, excitedly. Connie stood next to Fish, nodding her head in agreement as if it all made sense. It didn’t. Stephen figured that she must have been as clueless about finances as he was.

  Tarra, who had not yet commented, still had her hand over her mouth in disbelief. She then snapped out of it and grabbed Fish by the shoulders and shook him roughly, shouting, “What in the hell is wrong with you!” Directly into his face. Connie shot her a quick evil glance, as if to say ‘get your damn hands off my man’ but elected to say nothing.

  Fish countered Tarra with, “It’s all Stephen’s fault!”

  “Stephen’s? What?”

  “Yes. It’s all his fault because he borrowed me his truck. If he hadn’t borrowed it to me, I wouldn’t have liked driving it, and then I wouldn’t have wanted one of my own.” Fish said.