As the World Dies (2 page)

    "I'm going to take him out for awhile and bring him back in a few hours," Eric said.

    "I work around the barn area, so just give me a call," Gloria answered.

    "I was wondering if-"

    Gloria's cell phone rang and she glanced down quickly. For a moment Eric almost checked his own phone, and then remembered it was in the glove compartment of the car.

    "I need to take this," she said to him with a smile and turned away. "Yeah, Joshua? I told you not to call me at work unless it was an emergency. What is it?"

    Eric hesitated then started toward the door.

    "What did Grandma say? Why would Mr. Sanchez be trying to eat Grandpa? Joshua, something else must be wrong. Did you tell her to call the police or an ambulance?"

    Eric looked back toward the woman as he began to step outside. The phone call was odd and it was hard not to want to hear the end of it.

    "Look, Joshua, Mr. Sanchez is a diabetic. If he didn't take his medicine, he might be having some sort of fit. You need to call Grandma and tell her to call the ambulance and the police. We're nowhere near San Antonio. We can't do anything. You're sixteen years old. You can handle calling her. Now don't bother me at work anymore. Use your head." Gloria hung up and noticed Eric lingering. "My mother has dementia. She calls my house all the time with wild stories."

    "That was some story," Eric said with a laugh.

    Gloria nodded and rolled her eyes. "Dad won't put her in a nursing home, so we have to put up with some weird stuff."

    "Gotcha. Well, thanks for taking care of Pepe."

    "No problem. He's a sweetheart," Gloria answered and leaned down to pet Pepe's little head.

    The dog licked her hand then trotted to the end of his leash and looked back at Eric expectantly.

    "I better go. See you later."

    Gloria smiled and moved to clean up the kennel.

    Stepping outside, Eric looked around at the brilliant blue sky full of billowing clouds and breathed in the fresh scent of the spring air. The world was blooming again and the nearby peach trees were stunning with purple and lavender flowers. It was a perfect April morning. Well, almost afternoon.

    Behind him, he heard Gloria's cell phone begin to ring again. Then another phone began to ring faintly in the distance. Curious, Eric turned to see a man in a cowboy hat fishing his phone out of his jeans as he lead a horse toward the stable. Then, even fainter, another phone began to ring and Eric frowned slightly.

    Pepe let out a little "arf" to get him moving and they began to walk as the third cell phone rang for a few seconds then was also picked up.

    The wind picked up the cowboy's voice and Eric heard him say, "Then call the police, honey. I can't do nothing from here. Look, if some bum is trying to get into the neighbor's house, call the cops. Get the shotgun out of the closet and if he bothers you, remember don't shoot until he's in the house. Now hang up, call the cops, and then call me back."

    Pepe gripped Eric's sock in his teeth and yanked on him a few times.

    "Okay, okay. Walk time. Sheesh," Eric said to the little dog.

    Together they began down the path.

    Somewhere, in the distance, another phone began to ring.

Chapter Three

The World Begins To End

    There was a distinct feeling of unease despite the bright sunlight, cool breeze, and beautiful surroundings. After brunch, Eric and Brandy had loaded Pepe into the car and driven down to the quaint Texan town nestled below the hill the B & B rested on. After parking and making sure Pepe's leash was secure, they set out for a long nice walk and window shopping in the restored downtown.

    His credit cards were hurting from Brandy's shopping spree the day before so they mostly gazed in the windows at the opulent displays and let Pepe explore. Every crack in the sidewalk seemed to entice the little dog.

    Brandy had settled down after their brunch and was smiling and sweet. It was a huge relief to Eric and he tried hard not to disrupt the pleasantness of the day. But still, he was greatly bothered by the sense of something terrible happening that he was not aware of.

    To Eric, the walk was far from relaxed. Brandy seemed oblivious of the tense expressions on the faces of the locals or the severe lack of tourists. It was a weekday and the busy shopping days were the weekends, but Eric noticed quite a few touristy looking types hurrying to their cars. Main Street seemed to be thinning out significantly as more and more people received calls on their phones then rushed off.

    "Things seem off today," he finally ventured.

    Brandy looked around. "What do you mean?"

    "People. They seem off."

    Brandy rolled her eyes. "It's because you can't get onto the computer or check in with work."

    "No. No. That plane crash in Chicago was a little scary. Maybe that's it. Maybe it feels too much like 9/11."

    "Gawd. I wish people would get over that," Brandy sniffed. "It was a long time ago. People need to let it go."

    "Brandy," Eric chided her softly. "That event changed our world."

    Brandy scoffed at this. "Yeah, like it didn't take forever at the airport before."

    "You do remember the war, right?"

    "It's not a war. It's nation building," Brandy said firmly. "Daddy explained it to me."

    Eric tried not to sound sarcastic, but he couldn't help but say, "Yeah. Mr. Staunch Republican."

    "Daddy is just older and wiser than you are. He says it’s natural for young men to be more liberal because you haven't gained wisdom yet."

    Eric felt Pepe nudge his ankle and looked down at the small dog. The dog regarded him with a somber expression and licked his lips. Feeling the need to change the subject, he said, "I think Pepe is thirsty."

    "He also smells. He was rolling in something again," Brandy sighed.

    Pepe had been bought for Brandy, but Eric had messed it up. When she had asked for a "small dog", he hadn't realized she wanted a teacup Chihuahua. The lack of her clarity on the subject had resulted in him proudly presenting the Jack Russell Terrier and her declaring, "He's so not fitting in my purse." Pepe had instantly ended up being his dog and Brandy lost interest in the whole concept of having a little furry thing to tuck into her fashionable purses. Sometimes Brandy was quite affectionate to Pepe, but she quickly lost interest if he did anything to overtly dog-like.

    "Look, there's a gas station on the corner. We'll stop there, I'll grab him some water and a Diet Coke for you," Eric said as he began to move on down the sun baked sidewalk.

    "Well, okay," Brandy said and reluctantly tore her gaze away from a dress in a window.

    Anticipating a nice cold drink, Pepe scampered ahead, tugging insistently on his leash and making Eric hurry. They reached the small corner gas station that was old fashioned in every way but its modern pumps and Eric looked back toward Brandy. She was sauntering along with her usual sexy model walk and he smiled at her realizing again how helplessly in love he was with her.

    The door to the building opened and a bell jingled merrily as a pale faced man and frightened looking woman hurried out followed by three tween boys.

    "Hurry, we got to go now!" The father grabbed the youngest boy's hand and yanked him along as the mother tried to run in her kitten-heeled flip-flops. The sound of those tiny narrow heels hitting the cement was a sharp sound and Pepe barked at her.

    Eric watched in amazement as the family piled into a SUV and tore out of the lot and almost hit another car as it tried to get onto Main Street.

    "What a total ass," Brandy said and flipped her hair over one shoulder.

    "That was weird. Here. Watch Pepe and I'll get our stuff." He handed over the leash quickly before she could protest. He was quite anxious now to find out what had everyone so rattled. If Brandy stayed outside, he could possibly get some word while inside the gas station.

    Brandy sniffed at the air over the dog and Pepe looked up at her with what Eric could swear was an annoyed look. "He needs a bath. They need to bathe him tonight."

    "Okay, I'll order one for him. I'll be right back." He kissed her cheek and quickly moved inside.

    The bell jingled over his head as he entered and he saw a tall, thin man standing behind the counter watching the news on a small TV tucked up on a shelf. The interior store was set up like an old general store and the wood floor creaked under his feet as he hurriedly grabbed what he needed. He could barely hear the voice of the news commentator over the sound of the old freezers turning on.

    "…as the fire spreads through that area of Chicago we are receiving continuous reports of mass looting, violence, and possible murder. The National Guard has been called in to quell the violence and we still have no report of what happened to the first emergency crews to arrive at the scene of the commuter plane that crashed earlier…"

    Eric moved up to the counter and looked toward the TV to see scenes of fire and mayhem being played out as the commentator's voice droned on.

    "The shocking video of our own reporter, Trish Kendrick, will be shown again in ten minutes. We warn you that the footage is disturbing and based on the brutality of the attack we believe that Trish and her cameraman, Arnold Franco, are deceased. The footage shows an attack similar to ones being reported in Chicago and in several other cities."

    "Was it terrorists?" Eric's voice cracked and he felt sick to his stomach seeing the footage.

    "Dunno,” the older man answered. “They're trying to figure it out. Said that some girl on the plane was attacking other people and they strapped her down. That was the last thing the air traffic controller heard before it crashed. Got some other riots going down in some other cities." The man began to check him out, carefully entering the prices into an ancient cash register by punching down the big black keys.

    "Is that why everyone is acting so odd?" Eric cast a wary glance toward Brandy. He was surprised to see her playing with Pepe.

    "Not paying attention to the news, huh?"

    "Well, we're on a little romantic vacation, so not really."

    "Yep. People are freaking out. Thinks its terrorist putting something in the water or in the air. Rioting in some of the big cities up North. Army and National Guard will get it under control. Some weird stuff going on today, that's for sure. News people can't decide what's going on. They say terrorists. Then they say race riots." The man shrugged. "They're probably making it a bigger deal than it is."

    "I hope so. How much do I owe you?"

    "Four dollars and fifty-two cents," the man answered and rested his huge hands on the counter to lean toward him. "You know, its time like this, I'm glad I'm in Texas. We got guns and balls, son."

    "That we do," Eric answered with a chuckle and handed over the exact change.

    "Take care," the man said.

    "You, too," Eric answered and headed back outside.

    Brandy was standing in the sun, probably trying to get a better tan, while Pepe dug into a flowerbed nestled against the side of the gas station. In some ways he felt relieved knowing that whatever was happening was far away, but at the same time he didn't like to think of another form of terrorist attack happening, even if it was in Chicago.

    Briefly, for a moment, he felt a twinge of terror skitter through his brain, and then he shoved it away and moved toward his girlfriend and beloved dog. Things would be fine. Chicago was far away and this was a time to enjoy themselves.

    It was a struggle, but he managed to shove his nagging fear away and enjoy the rest of his day and evening. When he finally fell into bed that night, he felt content and loved. With Brandy nestled in his arms, he felt confident that everything was going to be just fine. Tomorrow, he would give her the ring and it would be perfect.

    At 3 AM he found out how wrong he was…

Chapter Four

The Morning of the Last Day

    Eric woke from a very deep sleep and wasn't immediately sure why. The bed was deliciously warm compared the coldness filling the room and he drowsily raised his head to look at the clock set next to the bed. In big red numbers it read 3:00. Blinking, he slowly sat up and reached out to touch Brandy. His hand slid over the covers to find she was not there. It was then that he became aware of the low tones of her voice speaking in a hushed voice.

    Sliding out of the bed, he stood for a second trying to figure out where she was in the darkened room. Slowly, he realized she was not in the room at all, but the bathroom. Confused as to whom she could possibly be talking to, he moved toward the door, tilting his head to hear. As his awakening mind grew sharper, so did his hearing.