The World's End Series Book One: Dymond's World

by CW Crowe

  The church was only a mile from their apartment and so the three of them walked there. Fallon was glad they went. The service was peaceful with the minister talking of the coming of a savior - how it had happened before and might be happening again.

  Afterward, Dy introduced Patti and Fallon to her boss. His name was Clarence Jones. Fallon had heard a lot about him, as Dy thought he was the best boss a girl could have. His hair was starting to turn grey and his smile was warm and genuine. Until that moment, Fallon never knew he was a black man. "I'm so glad to meet you," Fallon said, "And I can't tell you enough how much we appreciate all you . . ."

  He cut Fallon off. "Not a thing of it was me. Dymond did it all herself. Normally, I don't hire school dropouts, but when she came in for that first interview, I saw something there - I could tell she needed the job, but that wasn't it. I think it was that I saw she wanted the job. There's a big difference. Anyway, I told her to come back tomorrow and I went out and got a GED study book. You should have seen her face the next day when I gave her that book and told her I'd hire her when she could pass the sample test in the first section. I'll never forget the look on her face as she studied the book, front and back. Right then, Fallon and Patti, right then I didn't know if Dymond was smart or slow, I didn't know if she was a team player or if she would show up for work on time, but I did know one thing - I knew she would finish that book and pass that test."

  Fallon looked at her with love in his eyes. Her fair skin made her blush apparent.

  ***

  Clarence took them to meet the minister. He was a balding man with a round face whose lines indicated he spent a lot of time smiling. Today, with all the bad things that had happened, he was still smiling.

  Dy's boss introduced them, "Phil Foster, this is someone who worked with me in the store, Dymond Wilson. She's smart and a hard worker and I'm so proud of her." He didn't mention that he thought she would one day have her own store. "And these are her friends, Fallon O’Brien and Patti Peters-Johnson."

  "I'm so glad to meet you Dymond, and Fallon and Patti. I'll ask you what I ask every new person who comes to worship with us here. This wasn't always my first question, but today it is. Are you safe and do you have enough to eat?"

  It was an unexpected question, one of welcome, of acceptance, of giving. Dy answered for them all. "We're all right, sir. We're all right."

  They stayed until late afternoon. Patti put on an apron, and wound up helping serve a community meal while Dy read stories to a group of kids that gathered around her. Watching them, Fallon almost didn't want to leave. This Christmas day had been the closest thing to normalcy any of them had experienced since the power went out.

  But by three the sun started to get pale. Just three days earlier, the shortest day of the year had occurred, so it got dark early. The three of them found Phil Foster and Clarence Jones and thanked them for the nice day.

  The minister hugged each one of them. "You come back anytime. I'm sure we'll be here most days until things turn around." Then he prayed for them. Fallon closed his eyes and looked up to see if God was hearing this prayer. It had been over two years since the Humpty Dumpty God had sat on that ledge and laughed at him. Ever since, whenever he'd looked, the ledge had been empty.

  But today was different. Today, a light sat on the ledge. There were no flailing arms or egg shaped body, but Fallon could feel a mixture of sadness and pride from it. Fallon didn't know how, but he knew that God was back and he was watching over them.

  Clarence Jones shook their hands and said to Dy, "Be safe now. If you need anything, just let me know."

  Dy smiled at him and, for the second time that day, she said, "We'll be all right."

  ***

  When he brought Patti home with him, Fallon wasn't sure things would be all right between them. At first, Dy was shocked to hear how Patti had killed her husband and how they couldn't find any cops to report what had happened.

  Instantly, Dy welcomed Patti. She sat beside her and took Patti's hand and started to tell her she was glad she was there with them and how she understood how abusive some men could be.

  Patti looked at Fallon with forlorn eyes. An hour ago, she'd been naked with her man, and now Dy was treating her like a sister. It was beyond awkward.

  Too awkward for Fallon. He rose and held his hand out to Dy. "Ah . . . look Dy, there's something I want to talk to you about. Come with me, will you?"

  He led her to the bedroom. As he closed the door, Dy sat on their bed and looked at him with an expression of curiosity on her face. Then, some mental spark seemed to jump between them and her expression changed almost instantly to one of pain. For the first time in his life, Fallon knew what it felt like to have his heart ache. It physically hurt.

  He sat beside her on their bed and told her everything.

  ***

  Almost as soon as he started his confession, tears started to stream down Dy's cheeks. Otherwise, she sat silently, looking him directly in the eye as he talked. She never broke down, never cried out in pain, but those tears continued to stream down her face and drip off her chin on both sides.

  He knew he was hurting her, but he also knew she deserved to know.

  When he was done, they sat for what seemed like several minutes in silence. Dy turned her gaze from his face to her hands. Finally, she asked, her voice cracking, "Do . . . do you want me to leave?"

  "No Dy, God no. I love you, you know that." He realized Patti had been right - he should have told her more often.

  "Well, do you want her to stay?" her voice was barely a whisper.

  This was a much harder question. He started to evade it, but decided to continue to be completely honest with her. He owed Dy that much, and more.

  "I don't think she's got anyone else to look after her at the moment. She's kind of . . . fragile right now. Yeah, I think she should stay."

  "And do you want to keep screwing her? And me too?"

  Fallon didn't know what to say. He struggled to find words.

  Dy answered for him, "Of course you do."

  She reached for a tissue on the night stand and wiped her eyes. The tears had stopped flowing, but her top showed two wet spots - one above each breast.

  She looked into the past, her eyes suddenly far away. "The five of us with Billy thought of each other as sisters. I liked all of them and we all loved Billy and I know for sure he loved us. It didn't seem strange then - one guy and five girls, but it does now. I really don't know why."

  Fallon was silent, waiting for her to return to him. "This is the second time you've done this, Fallon."

  He didn't understand, "I don’t . . ."

  "Saved someone. First you saved me from Ax - from my whole way of life. I'll always love you for that - how you treated me so gently and let me learn to trust you at my own pace. Not many men would have done that.

  "And now you've done it again. You knew Patti for years, yet you never fucked around with her. But today, you found her in the worst possible situation - holding a gun she'd just used, and probably thinking of using it again on herself, and you saved her. You showed her that her life isn't over and you brought her home with you because she needs someone right now. I don't mind so much if you screw someone now and again; Lord knows I should be the last one to take offense at that, but you didn't bring her back here just because you want to keep screwing her, did you? You brought her here for the same reason you took me to your trailer - after you saved us, you felt responsible for us. I know you, Fallon. I understand."

  Dy rose. "You stay here for a while. I'll go talk to her and see what she wants. If she's willing, we'll work it out one way or another."

  She wiped her eyes again, sniffed and left him alone.

  ***

  Even with Dy's attitude, things had been tense between them. For two nights, Patti slept on the couch and Dy stayed on her side of the bed, her back to Fallon.

  The break had come as they were walking home from church. Patti spoke up, "I didn't know that
about your GED, Dy. Did you pass the final test and get it? Your boss seemed awfully proud of you. I think I would have peed myself if my fucknut of a boss ever offered me a compliment."

  Dy’s smile lit up her face for the first time in days. "Yeah, I passed. He called a special meeting of all the employees and told them about what I'd done. Most of them were kids, just sixteen or seventeen, but they all came up and congratulated me like I'd actually been to college or something."

  They were walking with Fallon in the middle, talking across him. Dy reached down and took his hand for the first time since . . .

  Some type of unspoken communication happened between the two women. Patti reached for Fallon's other hand and the three of them walked home in silence.

  ***

  A block before they reached the apartment, Dy said, "I smell smoke." At first neither Fallon nor Patti smelled anything, but by the time they turned the last corner, it was obvious - at least part of their apartment complex was on fire.

  The complex was a jumble of three-story buildings scattered around an almost perfectly flat property. In the center was an open area that was supposed to be grass, but was usually mostly weeds. Today, it was half covered with snow. For some reason that neither Fallon nor Dy knew, it was called The Quad. A small, poorly maintained kid’s play area was off to the side.

  Each building held eight apartments; two bedroom units on the ground floor and cheaper units with less space as you went up. Fallon and Dy lived in building nine, unit 311. There were no elevators.

  As they approached, people ran by them, most carrying armloads of possessions to safety. Fallon called out to one woman, "What happened?"

  "It's the kids! They're running wild, setting things on fire, stealing stuff!"

  Dy couldn't understand - they all lived here together. Why would anyone set fire to their own home?

  The question was obvious on her face. The woman said, "It's 'cause of Christmas. They're pissed because it's cold and they got nothing to eat but left over shit and they didn't get no presents. They were all around the swings over there all afternoon; a big gang of them, smoking dope and snorting God knows what. I think they used up the last of their drugs, and it'll be dark soon and now they're looking for more." She left them without another word.

  Dy led them as they walked towards their building. It appeared to be intact. Just as they arrived at the entrance, a kid came running out. He was probably about sixteen.

  He looked them over, apparently deciding that Fallon and Patty were too old to be carrying. His eyes fell on Dy's Gucci purse. "What kind of shit you got in there?" he said. It was a question, but his tone was that of a command.

  The purse wasn't really a Gucci, of course. Fallon and Dy had walked through a summertime flea market a few months and ago and her eyes lit up with she saw it. "I asked Billy for one, but he said it was too expensive," she'd explained when Fallon asked her about it.

  This one wasn't even a very good copy. The "G" and "C" logos were crazily off center where the bag was stitched together and the leather looked shiny. She objected strongly, but Fallon told her it would be her anniversary present - their second year together. He pulled out a ten dollar bill and bought it for her. Dy thought she could not have been prouder if the bag had been real.

  Later, she asked him where he got that ten as she managed their money and was very aware of every penny they had. He didn't want to tell her, but she made him; he'd been picking up cans and bottles - turning them in for the deposit, making a few cents at a time, saving it just for her anniversary gift. She remembered crying as she kissed him.

  The kid reached for the Gucci and Dy instinctively clutched it to her chest. Fallon started to move, his anger building at rocket speed. Before he took a single step, his anger was replaced by pain - a very sharp pain that got his attention in a hurry.

  Patti was digging her thumb nail into his palm. It was long and sharp and she pressed hard. Fallon stopped and looked at her.

  She walked towards the kid like she was going to greet him. Her words were not friendly, however - they were as cold as ice.

  "Listen, you little motherfucker. My husband is watching us right now. He's six foot three and if you so much as touch any of us, he'll be down here in an instant and he'll fuck you up real bad. Got that, you little piece of shit?"

  She reached into her purse and pulled out a knife. Fallon recognized it as the grey colored plastic box cutter she used to open dollar store boxes of shaving cream and greeting cards and everything else that they sold.

  The blade opened with a snap, "And once he's done you with you, shit-for-brains, I'll take over. I'll cut your balls off and shove them down your throat so you choke. I'll cut your dick off too if it's not too shriveled up for me to find. Now get the hell out of our way before I say something that a fucking lady shouldn't say."

  The kid's eyes got real big and he took a step back as she spoke. "You fucking crazy," he said as he left.

  ***

  As they arrived at their apartment, Patti started to shake with the memory of what she'd just done. Dy sat beside her and held her hand as she spoke, "The company had a training course for managers. It was all done over the Internet. One part was on how to handle difficult customers. It was all like, 'tell him you understand,' and 'I see your point.' I tried it once on a fat woman who was pissed because we were out of sanitary napkins. It didn't work. Getting in their face works a whole lot fucking better."

  Dy smiled at her.

  That night, she invited Patti into their bed.

  ***

  The next morning they ate a meager breakfast and discussed what had happened.

  Fallon said, "Unless the power comes back on, or someone delivers food, I think this place is going to get dangerous real quick."

  Dy nodded her agreement. "We could always go to the trailer. It's small but," she looked at Patti, "we could make it work."

  Patti smiled at her. "We've got my place too, don't forget. We can hole up there for a while."

  It seemed like a good idea.

  She continued, "Plus, it's full of guns."

  Part Four: The Dying

  Jason, Meet Regina

  Regina Martin stared at the wall of video screens and frowned. The counter that displayed "Estimated US Deaths" was barely above 40,000 and Jason McCrae had bothered her with questions about why it seemed to be stuck there. "Is something not working?" he'd asked.

  Regina was annoyed at the question and its implication. First, he knew the plan. He'd helped to finalize and refine it for over two years. He knew things were proceeding well within their projections. So his asking such a question was annoying.

  Second, they were almost to one of the most critical parts of the plan and he knew that too. Rather than concentrate on the rest of the world, he was fixated on that Death Clock. For a moment, Regina wondered why she'd spent the last two years with him; why she'd brought him into their inner circle, allowed him to participate in their planning, welcomed him into her bed.

  She knew the answer to all those questions, of course. It was his battery and his money. They had needed the money desperately to complete their preparations without being discovered. Her father had access to unlimited amounts of government money, but it had to be used carefully so that no one would become suspicious. Jason's $12 Billion had allowed them to build their headquarters and make sure they had everything they needed.

  The battery was, perhaps, even more important than the money. It allowed them to plan a future with power - not just at their headquarters, but in the other areas they wanted to develop post SHTF. It was all part of the plan - the battery was a late and welcome addition, but the rest of it was basically as she conceived it all those years ago.

  Regina had to admit to herself that Jason had done his part. He'd handed over the money and supervised the building of the battery factory, along with his own top secret facility to make the "secret sauce." Since he was the only one who knew the formula, he had been an indispensab
le member of the inner circle.

  But he wasn't indispensable any longer. They had several years supply of his batteries in storage. Jason didn't know that; it was a part of the plan she'd never told him.

  ***

  She left her seat and went over to him. She bent down and reached between his legs and started to massage him as she bit his ear hard enough to hurt. Her fingers felt him stir.

  It had been almost a month since she'd allowed him to sleep with her. While this was part of the plan, it also wasn't too unusual - sometimes she needed sex every day, and sometimes she'd go a month or more without it. She didn't spend much time thinking about it, other than to realize that it probably had something to do with the plan - as it moved towards each new stage, she tended to become celibate until she pushed it through one checkpoint or another. Then she would be ravenous with desire. Jason had seen several of her cycles and was used to them. It could be hard on him though, because she told him that if he slept with anyone else, he'd never have her again.

  "Stand up, Jason," she said. Her voice was raspy which further excited him.

  As he stood before her, she unzipped him and then slid his pants to his ankles. She sat in his chair. Her rubbing had produced the desired effect almost immediately - the poor boy must have been really horny.

  She slowly stroked him with one hand and then the other. He closed his eyes and moaned.

  She used a sharp fingernail to draw a line at the spot near the tip where she knew he was most sensitive. He twitched with the pain, and his hips started to thrust involuntarily.

  "Do you want me to lick you?" she asked. It was something she seldom did. He asked her once why that was - she was so very good at it - but she never answered.

  Before he could engage the modern part of his brain to produce speech, her tongue went to work. Starting at the very base, it slowly worked its way upward until her lips took over and encased him wetly. She squeezed his testicles hard and repeated. He moaned and she felt the first sign of the oncoming muscle contractions. It was just a tiny one - but it was there. She backed off the pressure ever so slightly. It wasn't quite time yet.