The Collapse

by E S Richards

  With their bags almost full Harrison stretched and walked over to his wall of weapons. He placed his hands on his hips and leaned back, examining what was on display.

  “You ever fired a gun before, Len?”

  “N-no,” Len stuttered in response, his weapons training was completely non-existent, a skill he’d never thought he’d need to have living in the center of Chicago.

  “Well, that’ll need to change,” Harrison murmured, pulling a key out of his pocket and unlocking the glass casing that covered the weapons. He picked two pistols from the lower rungs and shoved them both into the waistband of his pants.

  “Come on,” he beckoned as he moved toward the exit of the bunker. “I’m not going out there with you unless you’ve had a bit of training.”

  Chapter 19

  Making her way back upstairs Amy felt like she could barely get out of her house quickly enough. She knew she had to remain fairly calm however, for the sake of her son; she couldn’t let him ever find out what had just happened. What she’d just done.

  It was different in a way. James had witnessed plenty of people dying out on the streets earlier that day, but to experience something in your own home was another thing entirely. Amy herself was a thousand times more shook up by what had happened. There was a dead man just outside of her own home and that was a sentence she never imagined she’d have to think.

  Approaching her son’s room, a smile forced itself onto her face, seeing her son playing with his toy soldiers on his bedroom floor. There was such an air of innocence around the boy; Amy could almost imagine it was just a normal day. Almost.

  James didn’t notice Amy at first, his back to her as he walked the plastic figures around the room. When he did a smile crept onto his face as well, the toy figurine dropping from his hand as he walked forward and wrapped his little arms around his mother’s waist.

  “Hi, Mom,” he mumbled into her shirt, his head nestled against her stomach.

  Amy looked down at her son and ran her fingers through his hair, relishing the moment of calm while it lasted. She couldn’t predict when the next would come.

  “We’re going to go on a little trip,” she spoke softly, still holding onto her son. “What do you think of that?”

  James titled his head backwards to look up at Amy, his eyebrows rising slightly. “Where?”

  Amy paused. She didn’t really have an answer to that question, but she needed a destination of some description. Pursing her lips she ran though the different places they could get to. Although, without a car or any other means of transport, their options were severely limited.

  For some reason she thought staying close to Lake Michigan was a better option than going further inland. She had some friends who had a lake house about twenty miles up the beach, but on foot with an eight year old it would take days to reach. In truth Amy had no idea where they would end up, but she had to tell James something.

  “We’re going to visit Ellen and Maria, at their lake house.”

  James nodded at his mother, “I like that house, it has the big swing.”

  “Yes,” Amy stepped back from James slightly, “the house with the swing.”

  “When are we going?”

  “Why don’t you start packing now,” Amy suggested, “I’ll do the same and then we’ll see when we’re ready?”

  “Okay,” James stepped away and turned around to stare at his room. “Can I bring my man?”

  “Of course,” Amy laughed, “bring whichever toys you want. But not too many mind, you’ll have to carry them remember.”

  James smiled and nodded his head enthusiastically, reaching down to the toy soldier he’d left on the floor. Amy exhaled slowly, letting her mind fully comprehend what they were about to do. How she was going to travel anywhere with an eight year old in tow was a mystery to her, especially after seeing the horrors of central South Haven. But staying at home simply wasn’t an option anymore, not with what she’d left downstairs.

  Walking out of her son’s room Amy tried to think through what she would realistically need to take on the journey. It wasn’t like she was packing for a holiday, the chance of them actually ending up at Ellen and Maria’s was slim to none and she knew that. But she couldn’t let the truth catch on. James was a smart kid and she suspected that he probably knew she wasn’t telling the complete truth on some level. So long as it only remained on some level though, she could get by with that.

  Opening up her wardrobe Amy reached to the back and dug out the old camping bag she kept back there. It was rarely used now, but unless she wanted to drag a suitcase along behind her it was going to have to come out of retirement.

  She pulled out a couple of t-shirts along with it and her favorite pair of running sneakers. She pondered over the idea of packing more clothes, an extra pair of pants or a jacket, but decided against it. Firstly it was much too hot for more layers and secondly the space in her bag would probably be better used for food and water.

  In that moment Amy wished she still had her phone or some sort of Internet connection. What to pack in a disaster bag? Her mind frantically tried to work over what the contents would be. A first aid kit, that would definitely be useful she nodded as she dug out a pen and paper to scribble down a list. A penknife? Her head went back to days camping when she was younger, what sort of things did you need back then?

  In reality she was pretty clueless and in the end she knew half of the contents of her bag would be useless. Sitting down on the edge of her bed she slid open the drawer of her bedside table. There was one more thing she definitely still had to pack.

  The small wooden box was exactly how she had left it. Untouched by the criminals who had broken into her home. Amy felt a pang of relief at that fact, she didn’t know what she’d do if it had been stolen. Carefully she unfastened the lid and picked through what was inside.

  Her wedding ring, secured alongside her engagement ring in an old ring box she’d found at a charity market. The sonograms of James at her first scan, his tiny body barely formed but already creating such joy in her life. A lock of his hair, fair as the sun from when he was just a year old. A picture of her parents, both still hopefully safe in their retirement home in Florida. Amy had barely had the time to spare a thought for them, or her younger brother, the events of the disaster in South Haven forcing her to focus solely on the present. Solely on her son.

  A few more pieces of paper and trinkets filled the bottom of the box, each of them equally important to one another in Amy’s eyes. Closing the box back up she tucked it down deep in her bag, wedging it between her t-shirts and a battery-powered flashlight.

  Once she’d packed everything she could think of Amy carried her bag downstairs and into the kitchen. Walking by the living room door that she’d pulled closed earlier Amy couldn’t stop herself from pausing and sniffing the air. She knew the body wouldn’t begin to smell for a couple of days, but somehow she could still sense that it was there. She desperately hoped James wouldn’t have the same thought.

  Properly looking around her kitchen Amy gasped at the mess Zephyr and the other man had made. While the third—the one who was now dead—had kept her in the living room, Zephyr and the other had ransacked her house for all it was worth. The cupboard where she kept cans of food, an easy dinner option when she’d had a long day at work, was almost empty. A few cans lay knocked over on the floor, forgotten about in the rush to fill up the bags.

  Amy’s fridge was still fairly full, but she knew fresh food wouldn’t last very long. Especially not in the relentless heat, the recent events confirming that the sun had no intention of letting up. Picking up the cans that remained, Amy shoved them into her own bag, digging through other cupboards and adding packets of biscuits, dried fruit and anything that didn’t have a sell by date.

  When her bag was full, Amy stopped and sat at the kitchen island for a moment, her head in her hands as she tried to process again what was happening. How had her life reached this moment? Her year had alrea
dy been bad enough; the divorce from Len had been horrible. Even though Amy was the one to end things, a part of her still loved her ex-husband. For a minute her thoughts flew back to when they were still together; when all three of them could spend the weekend playing games or just relaxing in the garden. Those days were long gone now and Amy didn’t even want to think about what had happened to Len. He was even less resourceful than she was, anyone who knew them both was aware of that. She desperately didn’t want to entertain the idea of Len not having survived the disaster, but sadly Amy knew it was a very real possibility.

  Trying to shake her head out of despair Amy focused on the journey she would have to take with her son. She had moved to South Haven with him just over half a year earlier, somehow she would try and make this seem like the same thing. A part of James’s life had broken before and sadly a part of it was breaking again now.

  Peering out between the gaps in her fingers, Amy glanced over the view of Lake Michigan she could afford from her kitchen windows. Her house was so ideally placed for the summer, the view almost like that you found on postcards or in books. Squinting slightly Amy looked up at the sky, normally a black sheet with only a few stars dotted throughout.

  Now there appeared to be lights dancing through the clouds though. Electric blues and vibrant greens swerving around one another like traffic on a highway. Curious, Amy stood up from her seat and walked toward the patio doors, her eyes glued to the twinkling sky above her. It was like the Northern Lights—the aurora borealis, as she knew the scientific name to be. Watching for a minute Amy felt a sense of calm flood through her veins. If something so beautiful could emerge from such a terrible day, maybe there was hope after all.

  Climbing the stairs back toward James, Amy found him on his bedroom floor again, his favorite toy soldier still clutched in his hand. His dinosaur backpack was packed however, stuffed to the brim so the zippers were straining against the fabric.

  “Look James,” Amy spoke softly as she walked up behind him, “have you seen the sky?”

  “Wow!” James exclaimed as he noticed the colored lights tearing through the black sky, immediately dropping his toy and rushing toward his window. “What is it Mom?”

  “Magic,” was all Amy could think to say as she continued to watch the sky, her hands resting softly on the back of her son’s shoulders.

  The two of them stayed like that for what—to Amy—felt like an eternity. She never wanted the moment to end; watching the lights she could almost imagine that none of the dreadful things that had happened that day had really occurred. She could almost pretend that it was just a dream and her future wasn’t now mapped out with a huge question mark hanging over her every move. Almost.

  “When do we have to leave?”

  James’s question pulled Amy from her fantasy, the cold reality of life crashing back down in her psyche.

  “We’ll go in the morning,” Amy’s voice was still little more than a whisper, a part of her not wanting to say what was about to happen out loud. She had one more night at home, one more night of relative safety. After that Amy couldn’t predict where she and James would end up. She didn’t know where they’d be twenty-four hours from now, let alone any great time in the future. But she needed that one night at least to try and mentally prepare for the journey ahead. Prepare for the mystery that was about to become her life.

  The next morning, after sleeping with her arms wrapped tightly around her son, Amy closed the front door of her house for what could be the last time. Her bag rested heavy on her shoulders as a reminder of both the few possessions she now had to her name, as well as everything she was leaving behind.

  James stood confidently beside her; his own dinosaur backpack repacked that morning with a few less toys and a few more cans of food Amy had managed to find. Taking her son’s small hand in hers Amy gave it a slight squeeze in an attempt to reassure James in some way. She couldn’t tell if it worked, but it made her feel slightly better even so.

  “Are you ready?”

  James nodded, his eyes wide with nerves, excitement or fear, Amy couldn’t tell. She didn’t want to know either. James was her whole reason for living, her whole reason for taking them away from their home in an attempt to find sanctuary somewhere else. She needed to have faith in him just as much as she needed him to have faith in her. Amy couldn’t let him down; she couldn’t allow herself that luxury. Suddenly the weight of being a parent felt like a building falling down on top of her. With a deep breath Amy absorbed the weight. It was what would keep her strong and right now that was exactly what she needed to be.

  Chapter 20

  Len dutifully followed Harrison out of the bunker, his nerves already through the roof over what was about to happen. Not long ago this guy had handcuffed him to a bed and now he was talking about firing guns. Len had never fired a gun before in his life and while he could see this would be the time to do so, he was still nervous about the prospect of it.

  “We’ll maybe start off on something a little less dangerous,” Harrison spoke over his shoulder as he strolled toward a large tree in the garden and slipped his hand into a groove in the trunk.

  His hand reappeared wrapped around a bow and a quiver of arrows. The two guns in his waistband appearing to be just for show.

  Len shook his head in shock and awe, “Is there anything you don’t have tucked away somewhere?” he asked with a note of laughter in his voice, although his question was quite serious. Harrison surprised him with every turn; it was impossible to predict what the man would reveal about himself next.

  Harrison only smiled at Len’s question, clearly quite enjoying getting to show off his secrets to someone new. Len followed him out into the center of his garden and watched as Harrison took up a shooting stance, the bow held firmly in his hands.

  He slung the quiver of arrows over his shoulder, withdrawing one and fastening it into the bow. “You need to factor in the wind,” Harrison spoke as he looked forward, Len noticing a target hidden amongst some bushes in the distance. He spotted the leaves blowing off to the left, and saw Harrison angle his stance slightly to adjust for how the weapon would be affected.

  The arrow whistled through the air as Harrison released the string of the bow, landing dead center in the target ahead of them. The old man turned and drew another arrow from the quiver, handing both it and the bow to Len with a slight smirk on his face.

  Len waited for some sort of instructions, but Harrison merely smirked more, offering no guidance. Len found it increasingly difficult to read the older man, still uncertain whether he could trust him. He still thought it strange that the man had saved him and stranger still that he wanted to accompany him on the journey to South Haven, all without giving Len a real reason.

  Now Harrison was literally handing Len a deadly weapon and that just confused Len’s feelings about him even more. Sighing inwardly Len pulled the string taut and pointed his arrow in the direction of the targets. Releasing the arrow with a ping, Len watched disheartened as it sank into the grass about a foot ahead of him, no forward momentum involved at all.

  Harrison broke out laughing, “I’m sorry,” he chuckled, “it always happens the first time.”

  Biting his lip, Len waited for Harrison to explain how to correctly hold the bow and arrow, guiding his hands into the correct positions. He took up his stance again once he was firmly gripping the weapon and glared at the target ahead of him.

  Releasing the arrow Len’s mouth broke out into a smile as it soared toward the target, lodging itself in the bushes to the right.

  “Good!” Harrison called out, handing Len another arrow for this third attempt.

  Len took it enthusiastically and returned to his stance. Pausing for a moment he felt the wind pushing against him and changed the angle of the bow slightly. Only slightly. As he released the string he watched the arrow fire into the bushes again, but it was closer to the target. Refusing to be put down Len reached out for another arrow, eagerly re-stringing the bow and ta
king aim…

  “Ready for an upgrade?”

  Harrison had remained quiet during most of the training session, only offering Len advice when he specifically asked for it. Hours had passed but Len was finally hitting the target almost every time. He wasn’t perfect and still struggled to hit the same exact spot twice, but he was definitely improving. He couldn’t help the grin that was plastered across his face, a strange sense of accomplishment swelling inside him.

  Slowly Len nodded at the question, understanding that Harrison had decided he was ready to use a gun. He handed the bow and arrows back to Harrison who replaced them in the tree and then, to Len’s surprise, started leading him inside the house.

  Opening a door to the basement and walking down the stairs, Len couldn’t believe what he was seeing. What he found took his breath away as Len stared down a one hundred meter shooting range, all concealed underneath the street.

  “What the—”

  “Unlike the bunker, I didn’t make this myself,” Harrison chuckled at Len’s amazement, “most of it was already here. I just extended and redecorated a little bit.”