Famine

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by R A Doty




  FAMINE

  Immediate Empire, Volume 2

  R. A. Doty

  Published by DayLew Publishing, 2019.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  FAMINE

  First edition. January 26, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 R. A. Doty.

  Written by R. A. Doty.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Part One: Brian

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Part Two: April | Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  BOOK THREE COMING SOON! | (WHEN WORLDS COLLIDE)

  For my grandson: Abraham Gray Garcia

  Prologue

  THE United States of America was one of the last countries to experience the impact, and by the time the government had accepted what was happening it was too late. To avoid mass hysteria, and most certainly mass suicide, it delayed reporting the seriousness of the problem to its citizens. There were already rumors being projected through the media, and reports of other countries suffering catastrophic fatalities, but it was much easier to dismiss the reality than to accept what nobody wanted to believe: We were running out of food.

  In an attempt to prevent what would inevitably lead to the extinction of the human race due to starvation, the leaders of every country in the world convened to resolve the problem. Their most prestigious scientists developed a growth hormone that would rapidly increase cattle production to levels never before seen, thereby expediting the rate in which they could be slaughtered. Because of the urgency for the hormone, it was never tested properly over the standard period of time and was immediately distributed in mass quantities. Within weeks, the deaths of entire herds of cattle were being reported, and by the time a recall was issued, the world’s cattle population had been diminished by 75%. To prevent the spread of disease, the carcass of each animal was cremated and the ashes buried deep into the earth.

  Staying true to the laws of supply and demand, the cost to purchase any of the remaining cattle had escalated to a point that was only affordable to the very rich. Even then, despite strict restraints enforced by the world’s governments, greed had reigned superior and consumption hadn’t slowed, and within months almost every species of cattle on the planet had become extinct.

  It didn’t take long for the poultry and swine industry to suffer similar deficiencies once they became the primary source of meat, and due to over-fishing to feed an ever-growing population, most seafood was also on the cusp of extinction. With most of the domesticated livestock now extinct, wildlife soon became the target as humans flocked to the forests and slaughtered every living thing that could be captured. Within the short time span of two years, all of the countries across the globe had noticed significant losses in population, and although they were still the dominant species on earth, the effect of the sudden shortages of food had thrust the human race, itself, to the endangered species list. In all likelihood it, too, would soon become extinct if an immediate solution wasn’t discovered.

  With nowhere to turn, each and every person that somehow managed to stay alive had no choice but to ask themselves the one question that nobody ever wanted to face: Would you eat anything to survive? The ones that answered yes became hunters, and the ones that answered no became the hunted.

  The governments tried to control the chaos, but nothing could possibly stand in the way of an animal trying to survive, and humans are, indeed, just another species of animal. When every attempt to maintain an organized society had failed and the governments fell, staying alive ultimately came down to survival of the fittest. Or, as better expressed by the actions of a new entity known as The Power Elite: survival of the richest.

  Part One: Brian

  Chapter One

  JULY 01, 2135

  Boston, MA

  The National Guard refused to give up. Even when the leaders in Washington relieved them from their duties and told them they were fighting a losing battle, they pressed on. Protecting the country and saving the lives of its citizens was exactly what they were trained to do, and goddammit, that’s what they were going to do. They walked the streets an average of twenty hours a day, protecting those in need, and when they had exerted every drop of energy from their over-fatigued bodies, they could barely walk back to base camp to steal enough sleep to make it through the next day.

  Brian Harris was no exception. He considered it an honor to protect his fellow Americans, but even he had his limitations. After twenty-one hours, his body warned him it was time to crash. He could barely keep his eyes open as he trudged his way through the streets toward the base, his black boots feeling like two cinderblocks mortared to his feet. Occasionally, he stopped and leaned against a building to inhale a yawn. It felt good to close his eyes and pretend he was lying in a comfortable bed, his fiancé snuggled against his chest. Hell, it felt great! He could almost smell the scent of her shampoo. He forced his eyes open and continued walking. At the end of an alley, he stopped and turned at the sound of the whimper. After a few steps forward he saw the source of the noise.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked, increasing the speed of his stride.

  A small boy scurried behind a discarded tan couch when he heard the voice. Soon after, two hands appeared on the back of the couch, and a patch of dirty blonde hair slowly rose between the hands until a soiled face peeked forward.

  “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m not gonna hurt you,” Brian said.

  The face and hands vanished.

  When Brian reached the couch, the boy raced in front of him.

  “Hey, slow down, buddy,” Brian said, grabbing the boy by the arm.

  “Lemme go! Lemme go!” the boy yelled, trying to tug free.

  “Ow!” Brian pried the boy’s mouth off his hand without releasing his grip. He knew if he let go, the child had a zero chance of surviving. “I just want to help you, now clam down.”

  After fighting to escape with everything he had, the boy tired and stopped tugging.

  “Are you finished?” Brian asked.

  The boy stood silent. He pulled in one heavy breath after another until his breathing began to slow. He tugged one last time before staring up at the man holding his arm. Two multicolored eyes, a brow
n and a green, blinked nervously.

  “Where’re your parents, son?” Brian said, noticing the boy’s red and white t-shirt. It wasn’t that dirty. In fact, the white stripes were so clean they almost glowed. He could picture the boy’s mother dressing him that morning.

  The boy didn’t speak, just shook his head. His eyes began to water.

  “Now, don’t cry. We’ll find them.” Brian kneeled and pulled the boy close. Two small arms immediately wrapped around his neck. Tears dripped onto his shoulder. “It’s gonna be alright now. I promise.” He caressed the boy’s back. The words were easy to say, but he knew it was a bunch of bullshit. Just like the speech the president broadcast over every television in the United States. ‘We’ll get through this just like we have in the past when we were faced with adversity,’ he remembered him saying. It was in our nature to lie when we had to. It was the easy way out. Sometimes the truth was too hard to handle, especially to a small child who knew nothing of such evils.

  Brian carefully pried the boy off his neck and lifted him to his hip. He continued walking toward the base, the boy hanging on tight. “What’s your name, buddy?”

  “Alan.”

  “That sounds like a brave name for a very strong little boy. Can you be brave for me now, Alan?”

  Alan nodded.

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m five. Mommy said I’m smart for five.”

  “I think your mommy is right, you are very smart. Do you know where she is now?”

  Alan shook his head. “She told me to hide until she comes back, but she never came back.”

  “Was that a long time ago?”

  Alan nodded.

  Right after asking the question, Brian wondered if a five-year-old had any concept of time. An hour might seem like a day to a little kid. He, himself, didn’t have a lot of experience with children and was born an only child, so that pretty much eliminated the younger brother or sister relationship. His fiancé wanted to have a child as soon as they were married, but that never happened.

  As he walked along the eerily silent streets, he thought if things had turned out differently he might have had a son just like the little boy whose head was now resting on his shoulder. All the father-and-son moments came to mind, like playing catch, or going fishing, or teaching him how to ride a bike, and a slight smile crossed his face. He shook his head. If things had turned out differently.

  Alan raised his head. “Where are we going, mister?”

  “I’m taking you someplace where it’s safe until we find your mommy.” As if a place like that existed. Was any place safe anymore? Another lie, Brian thought.

  “I’m hungry.”

  “I’m sure you are, Alan. We’ll get you something to eat as soon as we get where we’re going.”

  When Brian turned a corner, he noticed two men talking to a young woman in her mid-twenties halfway down the block. The woman glanced at him and began to scream.

  “Help! Please help me!”

  By the time he got to where the woman was standing the men had pulled her into an alley and were tugging at her clothes. He lowered Alan to the ground beside an abandoned truck.

  “You wait here, Alan. I’ll be right back, okay?”

  The boy nodded.

  Brian charged down the alley to find the men had already removed the woman’s shirt.

  One of the men held the woman from behind while the other worked at the buttons on her jeans.

  Brian yanked the one unbuttoning the jeans to the ground and punched the other in the face.

  The woman backed up to a brick wall, her hands covering her breasts.

  The two men stood and slowly circled Brian.

  Standing six-four and weighing all of two hundred and fifty pounds, Brian easily overshadowed both of the men. He just waited for one of them to be stupid enough to make the first move. He didn’t have to wait long. They both attacked simultaneously, and Brian was ready. He grabbed the one that reached him first and tossed him against a dumpster. The other got a head-butt to the face when he grabbed Brian from behind.

  Blood immediately streamed from the man’s nose.

  Brian stood with his fists in the air, waiting for the next attack. Before the men had a chance to rise to their feet, a patrol car raced down the alley and skidded to a stop, just in front of Brian.

  Two cops jumped from the car with guns drawn. “Get your hands in the air!”

  Brian pointed to the men on the ground. “They’re the ones you want. They were trying to rape her.” When he looked at the girl she was rushing toward one of the men.

  “I said get your hands in the air, and I won’t say it again!”

  Brian stood confused, until the two cops tackled him to the ground. One of the cops sprayed a liquid into Brian’s mouth, rendering him helpless. His tongue went numb and he began to lose all feeling in his arms and legs. With his head pressed against the pavement, he watched the woman put on her shirt and rush over to the cops.

  “Thank you so much officers,” the woman said. She pointed to Brian. “He was trying to rape me when these two gentlemen came to my rescue.

  “Are you in need of medical attention, ma’am?” one of the cops asked.

  “No, I’ll be fine now. But thanks again.”

  Brian tried to speak, but a scratchy choking sound was all that came from his mouth. The cops pulled him to his feet and dragged him to the patrol car. They opened the rear door and threw him into the back seat, his face sticking to the rear window like it was frozen to a block of ice.

  The two cops then hopped into the front and buckled their seat belts.

  “Fucking National Guard,” the cop riding shotgun said. It was all he had to say to get the driver started about his dislike for the National Guard.

  “Tell me about it.” The driver shifted the cruiser into reverse and started backing out of the alley. “They come here thinking they can do our job better than we can and all they end up doing is raping our woman and looting our stores. I don’t know why the hell the governor ever called them for in the first place.”

  As the man went on trashing the only hope the citizens of the city had to stay alive, Brian watched the brick walls of the alley slowly pass by. When the driver stopped in the center of the intersection to shift the car into drive, Brian noticed the two men and the woman walking up to Alan. After grabbing the boy’s hand, one of the men flashed Brian a smile.

  Brian had no choice but to watch as a small boy that he would have gladly given his own life to save, tugged as hard as he could to escape from what was most certainly pure evil itself.

  Chapter Two

  SMALL shards of light peeked through Brian’s eyelids as he tried to pry open his eyes. Stalagmites and stalactites, he thought, studying the shapes of the light. The ground was hard and cold as ice under his body. I’m in a cave. Regaining his sense of sound, the distant voices he heard began to form into words.

  “Need to eat,” a voice said. The words eventually became clearer until complete sentences formed.

  “I said; we need to eat! You can’t just let us starve!”

  His eyes opened and a blurred figure stood before him. The figure was where the words were coming from. Yes, he was sure of it. He tried to lift his head, but the pain of twenty sledgehammers pounding into his skull dropped him back to the ground. His eyes squeezed shut until the pain subsided.

  “You can’t just let us starve to death in here!”

  A metallic tapping was heard in the distance. With each tap the sound got louder and louder. Wood against metal, Brian thought. Wood against steel bars. He lifted his head again and the pain returned, but nowhere near as bad as the first time. He took a few deep breaths before trying to move his body. His arms and legs felt like they were being poked with thousands of tiny needles. It hurt at first, but soon felt like feathers brushing his skin. The tapping got louder. The rhythm echoed off the walls.

  “I hope you’re bringing us food you bastards!”

 
Brian pulled his knees to his chest. He stopped to take another breath. It’s comfortable to just lie curled up in a ball. It seemed to make the pain go away. He could have easily gone back to sleep, but he pulled his eyes open to fight the temptation.

  The tapping was deafening—giant drops of water splashing non-stop into an empty metal pail. Before he could pull his hands to his ears, the tapping stopped. He took a deep breath.

  “Where’s our food you sonnuvabitch?”

  “Step away from the bars.”

  “Not until you give me something to eat.”

  Brian tilted his head just far enough to see two men facing each other—a wall of bars separating them. Two more men appeared and stood next to the man outside of the bars. They all held black truncheons, which they smacked into their palms.

  “I’ll say it one more time. Step away from the bars.”

  The man on the inside slowly backed up.

  The bars opened, and the three men walked forward.

  A pain in his neck forced Brian to lower his head. As he stared at the concrete floor, six black shoes stopped in front of his face. He waited in silence.

  “Welcome to the supermarket, Mr. Harris.” The man in front gestured to the others. “Help him stand.”

  Hands gripped Brian’s arms and pulled him to his feet. He was surprised that he could stand on his own.

  “Can you see clearly yet?”

  A hand waved in front of his face. He nodded.

  “Good.”

  “There’s been a mistake,” Brian said. “You got the wrong guy.”

  A single laugh began. Soon after, a trio of laughter formed. Before long, ten men in the cell joined the three guards standing in front of Brian. He turned his head and studied the men. All were gaunt, faces bruised, hair disheveled. He curled his fists and considered tearing them all to shreds, but he had to stay calm. He had to. The laughter stopped.

  “That’s what they all say, Mr. Harris. Or would you prefer Brian?”

 

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