by Roman Shepp
Tony knew that if he was going to stay in the store for a while he would need food. He went to the store room again to search for whatever Ben had left there, but as he was searching he heard a noise outside. It was a low whimper. Tony once again gripped the bat tightly, for he did not know what could be lurking outside when he opened the back door. Looking down, he saw a familiar pit bull.
“Groot? What are you doing here?” he asked. The dog was a mottled brown color, and he was looking the worse for wear. Blood stained his leg and he was trembling. Tony was instantly worried about Ben. The man never went anywhere without his dog.
“What's wrong, boy? Where's Ben?” Tony glanced around to see if he could spot Ben anywhere, but there was nothing there. He picked up Groot and carried the dog inside, letting him sit on the counter. Tony fetched him some water and poured it into a bowl. Groot lapped at it eagerly.
“I wish you could talk. I don't know what's going on here, Groot. I was hoping Ben would show up, but if you're here...” Tony didn't want to think the worst, but he couldn't very well help it. “Once you've finished that we'll try finding Ben and see if we can help him.”
Tony looked at the dog. Groot was fierce, and if he was in this state, Tony didn't want to think about what Ben was like. Still, Tony owed it to Ben to try finding him. Ben had given him a job when Tony had been desperate and -- aside from the regular customers in the store such as Danny, Phil, and Luke -- Ben was the only person Tony really could call a friend.
The baseball bat was on the counter beside Groot. Tony went to the backroom and found some dog biscuits for Groot to eat. When he came back he heard the door open. A large man was standing there, a man with dark skin and a thick black beard.
“They're after me!” he said, his eyes wide with panic. Tony froze and wished he hadn't put the baseball bat down. He couldn't defend himself with dog biscuits.
Chapter Two
Saeed woke up abruptly. He couldn't say why but he was a light sleeper and often woke at the slightest disturbance. He looked toward the clock and was surprised to see it was dark outside. Pushing himself up, he picked up the clock and figured the battery was dead, or there had been a power outage. There was no light from the television either. Usually there was a small red bead. He picked up his phone and creased his brow when he realized his phone wouldn't turn on either. It was a curious thing. He rose from bed and put some clothes on, intending to go outside and look at the circuit breakers. It was late, but maybe other people in the building had suffered from the same thing. Almost as he thought of that there was a loud banging on the door. Nadya stirred. Saeed placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Just go back to sleep. It's just the neighbors, I think. There's something funny going on with the power. I'll go sort it out. You just rest.” Nadya yawned and turned around, pushing her face into the pillow. Saeed allowed himself a smile. There was another banging on the door.
“Yes, I'm coming,” Saeed muttered to himself.
He wasn't particularly enthused about seeing his neighbors as most of them treated him with disdain because of his faith. Saeed tried not to let it bother him, but it was difficult to explain to Aaminah why people looked at her differently. Before he answered the door, he pulled open the curtains and the silver moonlight poured in, offering some illumination. It would be light soon. He walked to the door and opened it a crack. The tough image of his neighbors greeted him. All three were burly, with shaved heads and an ax to grind with the world, or so it seemed. Saeed tried having as little to do with them as possible but sometimes it was impossible to avoid them.
“We need to talk to you,” the eldest one said. Oswald was his name, although he called himself Oz, as did his brothers.
“I know. I'm having the same problems with the power as I'm sure you are. I'm going to go down and check on the circuit breakers now to see if I can do anything about it if you'd like to join me. It must be the whole building,” Saeed said.
“You're not going anywhere,” Oz snarled. “We want a word with you.”
Saeed gulped. So far, the brothers had kept their disdain to glares and quiet mutterings. They never had assaulted him physically, but Saeed had a sense that that was about to change. He braced himself in case they tried forcing their way in, but Saeed just had turned forty and the three men ranged from eighteen to their early twenties. He doubted he would stand a chance if they really wanted to force their way in, but he had to stop them somehow. He couldn't let anything happen to Nadya and Aaminah.
“What do you want to talk about?” Saeed said, as calmly as he could, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat.
“Did you have anything to do with this?”
“With what?” Saeed asked.
“Don't play dumb with me, tell me what you know,” Oz said. Saeed heard a gun cock. He looked down and saw a barrel pointed straight at his stomach. His throat ran dry and his heart pounded.
“I... I honestly don't know. I just woke up and everything was dark. Please, I really don't know anything. I'd tell you if I did, honestly. It's just me and my family here. I don't know what you want me to tell you.”
“We've heard some chatter about this. Some people seemed to know that it was coming. Apparently, terrorists targeted the power grids, and everything has gone to crap. We know you worked for an energy company. We saw you go to work every day and nobody could have been happy going to work there unless they had something else planned, something for a higher purpose.”
“N-no. All I did was send emails,” Saeed said, trying not to look at the gun, although that was impossible. All his life he had been a good man, yet people wanted to hate him based on his faith, or on the color of his skin. He'd tried to be humble and ignore it, but there was no end.
“Maybe some emails with sensitive information,” Oz said. They seemed to take what Saeed had said as an admission of guilt.
Once they all put their entire weight against the door, Saeed was unable to brace himself against all of them and they forced themselves in. Saeed was pushed down, and he scrambled backward, the gun now pointed at his head. He raised his hands and pleaded for mercy, but there was none to be found on their faces. Oz’s nose was crooked, and an ugly red birthmark stained his scalp. The other two were just as ugly, but they were quieter. Perhaps there would have been hope for them to live a normal life, but they had been poisoned by Oz's hatred and bitterness.
“I really don't know. Please just leave me alone. We can work this out together. I don't know anything. Really!” Saeed screamed. Oz's lip curled in a wicked smile.
“Saeed, what is going--” Nadya said as she walked into the living room.
She was wearing a silk nightdress. She screamed when she saw the scene before her. Saeed looked helplessly at her. Oz went straight over to Nadya and grabbed her by the hair, dragging her to the couch. He shoved her down and pointed a gun at her head. Tears streamed down Nadya's face as she shuddered with fear. Saeed shook his head, tears pouring down his cheeks as well. His wife was helpless. The couch was stained with urine as it trickled down from between her legs. Oz seemed to find this amusing.
“Now then Saeed, you're going to tell us what really happened, or I'm going to shoot your wife. Ed, get your gun on him. Don't let him move.”
Saeed glanced toward Ed, who drew his gun. He was not as confident as Oz, though, as evidenced by his trembling hands.
“Please,” Saeed mouthed, but there was to be no mercy shown.
Saeed looked toward his wife. Her hands clutched at the side of the sofa. His thoughts turned to Aaminah and he hoped she stayed asleep. She didn't need to see this. There had to be a way out of this. Oz had to listen to reason eventually.
“Why do you have a gun?” Saeed gasped.
“Because I'm an American and I'm defending my country from people like you,” Oz spat.
“You think I'm just going to stand by when I've got one of you living close by me? I knew I should have done something sooner, but I held off because of th
e laws we have in this country that protect all of you, and I'm damned sick of it. Think of how many lives have been lost because of what you've done? If you don't tell me the truth, I'm going to blow her brains out.” Oz shoved the gun right against Nadya's head. Saeed could almost feel her pain. He reached out, but then became aware of Ed beside him and didn't move.
“Okay, okay, I'll tell you everything,” Saeed said, willing to tell them anything just to get them to stop pointing the gun at his wife.
Oz wasn't going to stop until he got what he wanted and there wasn't anything else that Saeed could have said or done for them to stop. All he needed was for him and Nadya to keep living. As long as they still were alive there still was a chance, but if Oz pulled that trigger...Saeed didn't want to think about it.
“That's just what I wanted to hear,” Oz said.
He moved the gun away from Nadya. Saeed breathed a sigh of relief, but soon his breath caught in his throat again as the gun pointed right at his face. Nadya screamed again and was almost in hysterics. Saeed braced himself, not wanting to give Oz and his brothers the satisfaction of seeing him break down.
“You can do this if you want,” Saeed said, using all his willpower to keep his voice as even as possible, “but you're making a mistake. You think you're going to get away with this? I don't know what you think this is going to accomplish, but this isn't going to change anything, and when the cops come you're going to jail.”
Oz threw his head back and laughed. Saeed could see the piercing in his tongue. “We're going to get medals if anything. And you should know that there aren't any cops out there. The world has gone to hell and we're the ones who must pick up the pieces. I'm not going to let you get away with what you've done. I thought about keeping you alive while we have a little fun with your wife but you're an enemy of America and I think I'm just going to kill you.”
Saeed saw the pure, unbridled hatred in Oz's eyes, but he moved his gaze to his wife, wanting the last thing he saw to be his Nadya's beautiful face. The face that he had promised to love until death. He tried to mouth 'I love you' in the last instant, with his last breath. A tear formed in his eye as he realized he never would get to see his daughter again. Oz went to pull the trigger when Nadya screamed once more and leaped up, grabbing Oz's arm. Oz yelled, and the gun went off. The bullet flew past Saeed and embedded itself in the wall behind him. Oz growled and turned on Nadya, who still was clinging to his arm. As they wrestled the gun went off again and Nadya's body slumped down. Her hair fell over her face and her head lolled to one side.
Saeed screamed until his throat was raw and ran forward, wanting to cradle his wife's dead body. At the first sign of movement Ed fired, his hands still shaking, entirely by instinct. Saeed didn't care, though. All he wanted was to be next to his wife.
“Oh fuck,” Ed said.
Saeed turned around as there was a sound of another body slumping to the floor. Saeed turned, almost knowing what had happened before he saw it. Saeed's heart shattered as he saw Aaminah's body fall to the floor. Her little body was stained with blood and her eyes fell shut. Saeed was caught in the middle between his daughter and his wife. He picked up Aaminah's frail body and held her close to him. There was a hole in Aaminah's stomach. Blood poured out and Saeed felt the warm liquid flow over his body. He buried himself in Aaminah's hair, almost hoping that he soon would feel a bullet in the back of his head, so he would at least feel an end to his pain. Without his family there was no reason to live anymore.
“Daddy,” Aaminah breathed. It was her last word. Her eyes closed, and Saeed set her body down next to Nadya's. Time seemed to stand still. He was vaguely aware of Oz and his brothers.
“We have to get out of here. Fuck. I killed a kid. Oz, what do you say we do?” Ed asked.
“We don't need any witnesses. They're all guilty of something and that kid probably would have grown up to be a terrorist anyway. Like father, like daughter,” Oz said.
That was enough to spark a deep anger in Saeed. He raged with turbulent emotions. All the sorrow and fury had fused into a tight ball that now rose within him and burst out in a fierce roar. He was not going to let his life end like this. He barreled forward and pushed through them with pure instinct. They hadn't expected him to move at all and quickly he was out of the apartment and running down the stairs, fleeing for his life. He wished he could stay with his family, but he knew they would have wanted him to live, would have wanted him to fight against the men who had killed them.
He wasn't responsible for whatever had happened in the world. Nadya and Aaminah had been punished for it. Saeed wanted to kill them all, but they had guns and he had nothing. Leaving a trail of blood as he pushed open the doors and ran out of the building, he ran through the streets of the dark city, not knowing where he was going, only that he had to get away. He knew Oz wouldn't let him get away. Not after seeing the look in the eyes of that young man.
All Saeed wanted to do was fall to his knees and weep. The image of their last breaths was seared into his mind and there was no escaping it. He barely was aware of anything in the world. He didn't care that it was all dark. Whatever had happened to make Oz and his brothers come for him in the first place didn't matter either. The light had gone out in the world, literally, but also figuratively for Saeed. The reason why he had smiled when he went to work every morning was because he was happy and content with his life because of his family. They had been ripped away from him and there was nothing he could do to bring them back.
Running along, he barely looked behind him in case they were chasing him, but he knew they were there all the same. Eventually, they would find him. Most of the buildings he passed were dark and foreboding, but then he came across one with a soft amber glow. Figuring that his chances were better there than outside, he pushed open the door and saw a man and his dog looking quite startled.
Chapter Three
Jane was sitting in Frank's office. He was pacing fervently around the room. The bottle of whiskey was a great deal emptier than it had been at the beginning of the evening. The odor of its contents hung heavily around Frank. He had flung off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. He slammed his fist down and went to pick up the bottle again.
“I don't think you--” Jane began. One glare was enough to cut her off. She sat meekly in her chair, unsure of what to do or say. Frank had intended to return to his family, but the attack had happened sooner than they had expected.
“Don't tell me what to do. You don't know what to do about anything. You have nothing. Dammit! Everything had been settled. Why doesn't anyone stick to the plan?”
Jane trembled and picked at her fingernails. She'd already chewed her lip to shreds. Frank was a changed man. There had been a time when she swooned every time she looked at him and wondered how a man like that could be interested in a woman like her. He was a legend in local politics, and looked every inch an all-American hero, albeit with silver streaks in his hair. She'd had his body close to her and thought she knew him better than anyone else. He had told her that his marriage was a sham, and that he and his wife were estranged and only were staying together for the kids. That's how Jane had managed to justify the affair to herself.
They worked closely together and had been unable to keep their hands off each other. Frank was almost twice her age, but it hadn't mattered when they were together. He was a great man and Jane believed in him. She would have done anything for him but then she learned of this...and she was beginning to realize Frank was not the man she thought he was.
“We should leave. We should at least get out there. You need to be with your family...with your kids,” Jane said.
She wasn't completely heartless. She couldn't care less about his wife, but the kids...that always had been a sticking point. As happy as she was in her moments alone with Frank she knew that every moment she spent with him was a moment stolen from his children, and she had suffered an absent father, so she hated herself for what she did. Yet she loved Frank, or at least she though
t she had. Jane had dreamed of having a family of her own one day. She always had tried getting Frank to talk about it with her, but he was reticent, saying he had done it before and he didn't want to do anything to jeopardize the way his children saw him. The excuses always had rung hollow and now Jane saw just how hollow they were. He only ever did anything for himself. There were people dying out there and he didn't seem to care.
“Are you kidding me? It's a war zone out there! You think I'm going to go out in that? I would have been safe if everything had gone to plan, but no... no... I have to think. There has to be another way to be safe.”
“Is that all you care about? Are you really not going to try finding your kids?”
Frank stopped pacing and stood towering in front of her, jabbing a thick finger in her direction. “This is already worse than anything that has happened to this country. It's every man for himself. If you don't believe that, then there's really no hope for you. You're even more naive than I thought.” He laughed darkly, and Jane scowled.
He'd always acted in a condescending manner toward her, as though he knew everything there was to know in the world and, to her shame, Jane had gone along with it. She was the one who was supposed to be learning from him, from the great Frank Osborn. The champion of the underprivileged and destitute. The one who fought for a brighter future. Now the world was dark, and Jane saw him for what he really was, a fraud. Yet it was difficult to reconcile the man she loved with the man who was standing before her. Had it all been a lie? If it had, then Jane had wasted the better part of her youth on a man who cared about nothing other than himself.
