by Connor Mccoy
With all these cars, if I ditched the bike, I could take cover and hide. It only would take a moment. I could lose them. Then I could double back on foot. Sure, it would take most of the day, but I probably could make it to another town and gather supplies for Doc Sam.
The escape plan was tempting, very tempting. By now, Goat and Pummel must be growing fatigued. Perhaps their reaction time would lag.
However, as soon as they approached a sign stating Pleasantville was just three miles away, Doctor Nguyen shouted, “Stop!”
Jacob skidded his bicycle to a halt. Goat and Pummel did likewise. Nguyen slowly pedaled past them until he stopped near the sign. “Gentlemen, this is where we part.” Glancing at Goat and Pummel, he said to them, “Escort Jacob here into town. Bring him back here with a full sack of supplies.”
Goat unlaced an old brown sack from his back and dangled it near Jacob’s face. “Yeah, this is yours, bitch. Fill ‘er up.”
Jacob squirmed. Now he would have to go into town without any moderating influence on these two brutes.
“If, for any reason, you do not see me here, wait for a short while, but do not go past mid-afternoon. Head back to Middleburg without me.” Nguyen directed his attention to Pummel, specifically. Jacob guessed that Pummel was perhaps the brains of this group, if they could be said to possess any. But what is Doctor Nguyen up to? Is he going to stay out here until they get back?
As Jacob approached the Pleasantville boundary, the sky above grew darker. The smoke was thicker, and it seemed to be pouring from one location, and a pretty broad one at that. This can’t be from another plane crash. The smoke fanned from such a large pillar that the only thing Jacob could imagine was several city blocks on fire.
What if Pleasantville is burning?
Jacob had studied aftermath scenarios in urban areas following an EMP strike. Some of them dealt with fires. To be sure, fires would not easily spread, even with the loss of fire departments since building codes mandated structures be built certain distances apart and with firewalls in between stores that shared common walls, to prevent the easy spread of flame. Nonetheless, fires still could start and spread, thanks to ignited fuel supplies.
Like the ignition of jet fuel…
A plane or two could have come down in the city and started a massive blaze. Spilled jet fuel could sustain and even spread the inferno, depending on how far the fuel was dumped on impact.
Of course, there was another, darker reason for Pleasantville to be on fire, and it had to do with man himself. Rioters, sensing they were unbound by legal authority, could have decided to start tearing down everything.
There’s no way we can keep going. If this place is on fire, and worse, if people are behind it, then we are heading right for certain death.
He slowed his pace before turning his head to the pair behind him. He addressed them with a bit of a cough from the smoky air. “Guys, I think this place might be bad news. You see the smoke? There’s got to be a fire ahead of us.”
Goat chuckled. “Burn, baby, burn.”
“I’m not joking.” Jacob tried not to raise his voice. He had to appeal to whatever sense of reason these men possessed, if it existed at all. “There could be rioters in there, and there’s only three of us. We could be overwhelmed, dead in minutes. And even if there aren’t, that fire’s putting out a lot of smoke. We stay in town too long, we could choke to death. We might pass out or die in there.”
“The smoke is still far away,” Pummel said, “far enough for us to take what we want. We go on.”
“But what about the rioters?” Jacob asked. “Do you have a plan if we run into any?”
Goat laughed. “Dude’s chicken shit scared.”
Pummel, however, flashed Goat a scowl. Evidently, Pummel took the threat of rioters more seriously than his companion. Returning his gaze to Jacob, Pummel said, “We won’t worry about them. Now go.”
Reasoning with these two was pointless. In fact, Jacob worried that the two of them were confident because they viewed Jacob as an insurance policy. If things went south, they would offer him up to the rioters as a present, or perhaps just ditch him at the first sign of trouble.
Damn, he thought. He might have to entertain a new escape plan, and fast.
Pleasantville was an inferno.
Thus far, some of Jacob’s suspicions were confirmed. A blaze was consuming Center Street, the main thoroughfare that ran straight through Pleasantville. The smoke was so thick that it completely blocked off the street. To ride any farther was to ride into Hell itself.
Goat and Pummel had allowed Jacob to stop suddenly. To do otherwise would have been suicide. It was obvious they would have to turn back.
“Guys…” Jacob began.
“Head that way.” Pummel pointed his thumb at an intersection several yards back. “We’ll take Rigley Road.”
“You still want to hang around here?” Jacob asked, followed by a spate of coughing.
“We fill our sacks and then we go,” Pummel said.
Jacob was about to protest, but the smoke caused him to cough. His stomach was hurting. Better to go along with them and get this over with.
At least Rigley Road curved away from the blaze, enough to quell some of the aching in Jacob’s throat. The route was taking them toward a dense wing of Pleasantville. Jacob knew it fairly well. He had been here before with his sister a few times.
However, last time he was here, the roads were not littered with bodies. They had started pedaling amongst corpses not long after they had turned onto Rigley. More than once, Jacob’s wheels cut over a draped arm or leg. Jacob slowed his pace to try avoiding rolling over a body.
What happened? Jacob did not want to look at the bodies, except to avoid them, but morbid curiosity latched on to him. He looked for anything that might explain so many sudden deaths.
Gunshots. That had to be it. Their clothes showed red splatter stains. Depending on how the corpses laid, streaks of blood ran down their clothes to the asphalt. Jacob did not spot any guns in their hands, though firearms could be concealed under their fallen bodies.
I need a gun. I can’t go through this place unarmed.
“Stop,” Pummel barked. “This is where we start loading up.”
Though relieved that he did not need to progress farther, Jacob still coveted something to protect himself. As he halted in front of an old pawn shop, he quickly turned to Pummel, who was pulling up close, with Goat beside him. “Shouldn’t I get a weapon?”
Goat tossed the sack onto Jacob’s face, cutting him off. “Food, water and ammo,” Pummel said, uncurling a finger for each item. “As much as you can fit in that bag.”
“And the bag better be full.” Goat waved his fingers around the sack. “No slackin’.’”
Jacob yanked the bag free of his face. “Fine, but I should have a gun. All these people were killed by gunshots. I told you about rioters and I think this town may be full of them.”
Goat opened his mouth to retort, but suddenly the glass window of the store just behind him and Pummel burst apart. Someone was shooting at them!
“Damn! I knew it!” Jacob jumped back onto his bike, not caring if Goat and Pummel objected. By now these two morons should know that sticking around was suicide. Both men did remount their bikes. At least they possessed that much sense.
Another shot rang out and would have hit the spot where Jacob had parked, but by then he was riding fast down the sidewalk, with Goat and Pummel close behind. “Shit!” Goat shouted. “The dipshit was right!”
“Just keep pedaling!” Pummel called.
Keep pedaling. Jacob did not need conscious thought to perform that feat. He was desperate to flee the unseen shooter. However, there had to be more of them lurking in these streets, and there were ample places for assailants to hide and snipe at unsuspecting victims. How could they successfully pick up resources from this town when they could be blown away at any moment?
Another intersection loomed ahead. Jacob turned ri
ght sharply, partially hoping he would throw off Goat and Pummel, yet he knew those two quickly would follow. They were pedaling for their lives as well.
The street ahead ran through another block of stores, with more bodies covering the road. Jacob had to stick to the sidewalk to avoid them and maintain his current velocity. The sound of Goat’s and Pummel’s bikes close behind indicated they were following Jacob’s lead.
If they weren’t going to bug out of Pleasantville after this, Jacob might as well try reasserting control over this situation. He just hoped the pair would be more amenable to what he had to say.
Because if I don’t, I’m a dead man.
Chapter Four
Another gunshot zinged over Jacob’s head. The bullets continued flying. Turning down this street had not helped. He had tried diverting down three streets with no respite from the gunfire.
Jacob needed cover, and fast. Goat had cried out to duck into one of the nearby alleys they continued passing, but Jacob admonished him that darting into an alley might cost them their lives if the alley had no outlet. Jacob continued spotting movement on the streets, and it was likely somebody would spot them and try pursuing them.
The street suddenly curved left into a large intersection that included streets branching out in three other directions as well as two turning lanes. A small park was across the intersection to the right. It was littered with trash and, judging from the putrid smell wafting from it, human feces.
“Hey!” Goat pointed to the park. “Let’s go in there!”
But Jacob already could see the small crowd in the distance, beyond a spate of trees. A public park was actually one of the worst places to head to during a catastrophe. If law enforcement was not able to secure the area quickly, a park would be a great gathering ground for all sorts of unsavory characters. This park looked no different. A bunch of revelers already had come here and messed up the place, and if Jacob, Goat and Pummel tried taking refuge in there, they could be accosted by a large crowd or even a single anarchist hiding behind a tree.
“No go!” Jacob turned to the left. “The park’s already occupied!”
Another gunshot zinged over their heads, hitting a nonfunctioning street light. “Well, what the hell do we do? We’re going to get shot soon if we don’t find a place to hide!” Goat cried out.
Jacob scanned the surrounding area. They were passing up the park. A strip of two-story stores and offices loomed ahead. His heart sank. What if there were snipers on those roofs or in the second story windows?
Something caught Jacob’s eye as they approached the edge of the park. There was a small turning lane onto an adjacent road that ran past another park, a much smaller one, with entry by a path under a green metal arch. A set of trees hung over the park, making it difficult to see inside.
You could be riding right into an ambush if you go in there. On the other hand, such a small park might not be a magnet for a crowd of rioters.
Jacob decided to take the chance. He turned onto the path and rode under the arch. Goat and Pummel followed.
Jacob slowed down to avoid being struck by a low hanging branch. The path was enclosed by lines of trees. In seconds, Jacob had reached an open amphitheater with a water fountain and several stone benches spread out in a circular formation.
Jacob hit the brakes before he rammed into one of the benches. Goat and Pummel pulled up on either side of him.
As Jacob climbed down, he got a good look at what this park was made for. Short walls everywhere displayed art murals. A few sculptures rested on stands.
“What the hell is all this?” Goat asked.
“An art display.” Jacob gazed at a painting that looked like a knock-off of one of Picasso’s works. “I saw one of these at the college my sister went to. Maybe the college students in Pleasantville come here to paint or to look at the paintings of others.”
The three of them took the time to sit and rest. However, Pummel quickly grew antsy. “We still have a job to do.” He locked eyes with Jacob, who was resting on the bench across from him. “We can’t keep running and hiding. We need to get away from the looters and find some stores that haven’t been hit.”
“Good luck.” Jacob pulled his right leg onto the bench and gave his limb a massage. “Any place that’s obvious, a place that has a lot of food or tools, such as a mall, a pharmacy or a convenience store is probably wiped out by now or already has attracted looters.”
“Then we’ll find our haul someplace else. I know where to go,” Pummel said.
“Where?” Jacob asked.
“You’ll find out when we leave this place,” Pummel replied.
Goat chuckled. “The big boss man taught us what to look for. He knows what’s been sacked and what probably hasn’t.”
Jacob swallowed hard. “Fine. But if we’re going to do this, I want a gun.”
“Not happening,” Goat said.
Jacob leapt off the bench. “The hell it isn’t. We took fire out there and we’ll probably take some more shots before we get out of Pleasantville. Now, I need a way to shoot back or I’m not going a step further. I don’t care if you shoot me. I’m a dead man anyway without a gun.”
Goat chortled. “Man, you really don’t know who’s in charge here, do you?” As Goat talked, Pummel dug into his jacket and pulled out a small .38 revolver. “Yeah, you show him he doesn’t demand anything of us!” Goat added, “We—”
Pummel stood up off the bench. “You’ve got some ideas on how to get past the looters? You’ll share them. You do, you get this.”
Goat’s jaw dropped. “Whoa! Hey man! You’re giving him a gun!”
“Fine, you want some survival tips?” Jacob approached Pummel. “You got them. But first, gun. Now.”
Pummel did not yield.
Jacob fought to control his anger. “Look, you want to make your haul from this town? Then you got to listen to me. We won’t last five more goddamn minutes here if we keep going like we are! You get it?”
Pummel raised his chin. “Alright.” He handed Jacob the gun. Goat let out a vile profanity.
Pummel backed away a step. “Now, what do you have in mind?”
Jacob checked the gun to make sure it was loaded. “First, let’s make sure we get out of here without getting our heads blown off.”
Jacob parted the branches. He cursed under his breath. No matter where they checked through the trees of the art park, they could not find a place on the street that was completely deserted. The only consolation was there were only three men walking past, though each of them was wearing dirty clothes and wielding a pipe or wooden board.
“At least there’s not a crowd here. But the streets have been completely taken over in this part of town. Someone’s going to see us no matter what.” He sighed. “We don’t have any choice. We can’t hide here all night. Hell, it might be worse at night.” He nodded to the small space between the trees to his right. “We can push our bikes through that gap in the trees.”
“Sure, sure.” Goat rolled his eyes. “And what do we do when they start shooting at us again?”
“I have an idea.” Jacob backed up from the trees, rejoining his bicycle. “I think we can give them a reason to not care about us.”
Standing on the sidewalk in front of a barber shop, Jacob looked across the ground near his boot. He found just what he was looking for—a nice, red brick. It wasn’t even cracked anywhere on its surface. In all, it was in superb condition.
He threw his arm back and then launched the brick into the shop’s front window.
Goat and Pummel, standing beside him, flashed him looks of confusion. “What the hell are you doing, man?” Goat asked.
Jacob lowered his arm. “We’re joining them.”
“Joining them?” Pummel’s frown deepened.
“We’re acting like them.” Jacob turned to the pair of confused faces. “We’re just three more looters having a swell time tearing down the city.”
Goat scratched his head. “I don’t get it
.”
“It’s called the “gray man” technique. When you’re in the midst of a societal collapse with anarchy and looting all around you, you should try making yourself as indistinct as possible. Looters are far less likely to beat up a fellow looter than someone who looks like they’re trying to escape. Quick, grab another brick. Start hurling them into the stores. Act like you want to burn this city down.”
Goat chuckled. “Hey, I got no problem with that.” He fished out a jagged piece of concrete from a collapsed piece of sidewalk and tossed it into the piece of window that Jacob had left standing.
One of the men Jacob had spotted earlier walked past them. He did not shoot at them or do anything. He just cast them a glance and moved on.
After Pummel had tossed a brick himself, Jacob asked, “These places don’t look like they have a lot to grab, and that strip of stores has already been looted. Where do we go?”
A Christian church.
Jacob’s heart sank at the sight of it. The building still appeared to be in good shape compared to many he had seen in this part of the city. Perhaps the looters did not think the church was worth targeting.
Sadly, Jacob was in no position to turn down this house of worship. He was approaching it with the intent to ransack the place for supplies.
The smoke drifting over his head seemed to be thicker than before. The fire on Center Street must be progressing in this direction. So, this church, in all likelihood, would be reduced to ashes in the next few days. It only made sense to find what was useful in here and take it with them so it would not be destroyed in the blaze.
His greatest fear was taking Pummel and Goat with him inside. What if there were innocents in there? What would Pummel, and Goat do? At least Jacob was armed, but Pummel surely was keeping a close eye on him for signs of imminent betrayal.
He came to a stop short of the doors. Then, he turned and glared at the two men. “I’m doing this,” he said icily, “but nobody in there dies. We don’t harm so much as a hair on the heads of anybody we meet. And if you try anything, so help me, I will kill you on the spot.”
