United States Of Apocalypse (7 page)

T
he red barn
was in the best shape of all the non-house buildings on the vast property, but it wasn’t a secure structure by any stretch of the imagination. The fact that it was close to the main house helped, but they didn’t have enough people who could shoot a gun to defend more than the home.

Herbert was staring at the barn when Darlene finally got off the three-wheeler and walked up. She was exhausted and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.

“Penny for your thoughts,” she said to Herbert.

He looked at her and smiled before looking back to the house. “Are those brats still inside?”

“That’s mean,” Darlene said, only half-joking. Pheebz had won the bet. Rosemary had pulled up only an hour later and apologized for what she’d said, hugging everyone including Darlene.

The rest of the day had been uneventful. Darlene and Herbert tossed ideas back and forth and drove the property in his pickup truck to make sure everything was still in place.

They’d all had a quiet dinner. Rosemary ate her vegan food with the boys, who didn’t look too happy. Bedtime came early for all of them, and that night Herbert let Darlene have a shift on the porch.

Today was so far so good with the boys. They weren’t allowed to watch evil television, so they were forced to sit and read books on the couch. Darlene didn’t know how long it would last, and she felt sorry for them.

“Mean. You think I’m mean? This visit they’re not allowed to do a damn thing but sit like they were in a cult. The last time they were over, my damned sister told me they had no rules. No rules! Anything and everything they did was part of ‘the learning process.’ They had no bedtime, ate everything they found, and could touch and do whatever they wanted. I finally had to restrain them when the green barn was torched,” Herbert said.

“How many barns do you have again? Every one is a different color?”

“Several barns on this property. There used to be multiple homes a long time ago, but the homeowners moved and sold their portions to my grandfather. He tore down the houses for fields but kept the barns so he’d have somewhere close to each for storage.”

Darlene sighed. “Now you could hide a small army in each and we’d never know.”

“I think we might need to tear them down, or at least empty them. No use in leaving good supplies in a barn we can’t defend,” Herbert said.

“Do we have room for all of it?” Darlene asked.

Herbert shook his head. “Not even close. I’m a bit of a pack rat, but most of the things I hold onto are worth something. Especially now. The problem is also going to be my damn sister and her kids will want the extra two bedrooms permanently.” He stared at Darlene.

“Which means I’ll be sleeping on the couch,” Darlene said, finishing the thought.

“I’m really sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault. It’s nobody’s fault,” she added quickly. “Just a lot of people jammed into one house that was probably too big for you and Pheebz.”

“Once Susie...” Herbert stopped talking and began walking toward the red barn.

Darlene gave him his space to work out whatever it was he was still dealing with. There was no way she was going to pry. Obviously, Susie was their daughter who’d passed away somehow.

“Are you coming? We got work to do,” Herbert yelled without looking back.

Darlene followed Herbert into the barn and marveled at all the stuff he had packed into it. Three riding mowers, a wall of various chainsaws, weed trimmers and leaf blowers adorned one side. The back wall was overflowing with tools and toolboxes, all stacked neatly and taller than Darlene.

“What’s under the tarps?” Darlene asked.

The other side had large objects covered. She counted at least six, although some tarps were covering over two or three items.

“My vintage car collection, although it’s mostly rust. One day I was going to refurbish a few Mustangs and other muscle cars, but old age got in the way. I just never got rid of them, and if they stay covered, I can make pretend I’m still young enough to do the work,” Herbert said.

“You really are a hoarder,” Darlene said.

“I wish I wasn’t, especially the cars. This is prime real estate for us right now. I thought having them in the closest barn would force me to work on them. I never did. And you want to hear something dumb? The farthest barn has all my woodworking materials which I use all the time. I’ve replaced most of the fences over the years myself. I bet you there are three hundred slats piled up and ready to go.”

Darlene laughed. “Then we might need to put them to good use. I was thinking we needed to cut down the trees in front of the house so we could see who is coming up the driveway.”

“Good idea. We can start it in the next couple of days. What I think we really need to do is make sure the main gate to the property is secure. I have some padlocks we can use. A shot from a gun will take it out, but hopefully, we’ll hear it. Let’s take a ride.”

They rode to the front of the property and Darlene looked up and down the road, but there was no traffic in sight. Even though it was a side street, Herbert had the only house on it for half a mile in either direction.

Fields directly across the street were nice, offering a rolling sightline for miles since nothing was planted as far as Darlene could tell. But just down the road, on either side, was covered in trees and brush, and anyone could use it to monitor the property.

The gate to the land was rusting, the metal taking a beating in the California heat. The fence itself was nothing more than decoration, white slats spaced eighteen inches apart to give the look, but not the support, of a barrier.

“We have some work to do,” Herbert said. “A padlock isn’t going to stop anyone. We need to get the slats out and fortify this a little better.”

“A little?” Darlene asked. She thought it might be a lost cause. The only way to keep anyone off the property would be by building a wall around it. They didn’t have the bricks, the time, or the manpower to do anything significant.

“I’m not even sure if I can close the gate at this point, either.” Herbert squatted at the side of the drive. “It’s buried in the ground in spots. Heck, I bet this gate hasn’t been closed in twenty years. I guess we could dig it out today and at least close it, but that will only make the Sawyer brothers crash through the wooden fence.”

“I think we should worry about this later. We need to take stock of what we have, and all the weapons and canned food you say you have hidden on the land needs to be accounted for. We should pull everything we can into the main house,” Darlene said.

“Unfortunately, the main house isn’t big enough for the people we have in it right now. And those bedrooms are better served for stock and not kids and my damn sister,” Herbert said.

Darlene shrugged. She could see how mad he was getting and needed him to relax. It was too hot outside, and they needed to stop wasting time. “It is what it is, right? We can’t change everything, but we can change some things. I’d put Rosemary and the boys in one room and we can fill the other guest room with supplies. Same with the living room, which is huge. You don’t even use half of it, and the office as well.”

“The walk-in closet in my bedroom would be a good spot, too. We can fortify it in case we get trapped in the house,” Herbert said. Now he was smiling, looking across the street; Darlene could see his wheels turning. She just needed to keep the old man focused.

“We should get an idea of the ammo and weapons we have, too. Hopefully, we’ll never have to use them,” Darlene said.

“I know the Sawyer family. We’ll use ‘em. I just hope we have enough food to last. Adding three more mouths has screwed up how long I thought we could survive. And if we get any more friends or family or even good strangers in, we’ll really be screwed.” Herbert frowned. “Especially if they bring a box of twigs with them.”

“Would a trip to town be a bad thing?” Darlene asked. She hadn’t really seen too much of the area, driving through it quickly when she thought she was leaving. She didn’t really know what the town consisted of.

Herbert shook his head. “I don’t want to take a chance. With so many vehicles driving through, especially when this all started, I doubt there’s much left of town. If there is, guarantee a local has a rifle and will use it first and ask questions later. We’re used to predators coming down from the hills or through the desert. We’re all carrying a gun this far out. I just hope the friends I had are alive and still remember my face. You remember what happened to my gas station? That might be what has happened to everyone.”

“What about close neighbors?”

“What about them?” Herbert asked after pausing a moment.

“Are they potential allies or enemies? I think we need to know where we stand. If they also hate the Sawyer family, maybe we can band together. Watch the road. Help one another out,” Darlene said. There was definitely going to be strength in numbers.

“That’s a great idea. When we head back past the house, I’ll have Pheebz make some calls. She’s a lot friendlier than I am. I can’t be bothered with most. I just smile and nod pleasantly when they come in for gas. It’s much easier that way. I don’t want to know anyone else’s business if I can help it.”

“Sound advice,” Darlene said. They headed back to the house, and Darlene sat on her three-wheeler while Herbert went inside.

The twins were standing next to the VW, kicking at the rocks at their feet.

“What’s up, guys?”

They both looked at Darlene when she asked the question, but neither responded.

Darlene glanced at the house. No one was in sight.

“You two do speak, right? You haven’t been attacked by a giant cat, who got your tongue?”

They both chuckled but didn’t say a word.

“Don’t you two have a ball or something you can play catch with? I thought I saw a tennis ball near the red barn,” Darlene said.

One of the twins looked at the house before turning to Darlene. “We’re not allowed near the barns or away from the front of the house where my mom can see us. She said if we weren’t quiet, Uncle Herb would send us away.”

“Shut up, Aiden.”

Darlene felt bad. There was so much more going on but she didn’t want to pry. She knew when she got Herbert alone she’d tell him, although then maybe the boys would get in trouble for opening their mouths.

Herbert came back outside, stared awkwardly at the boys before waving at them, and led Darlene back around the house and down to the far fence, skirting the area by following the natural path surrounding the perimeter.

When they got to the copse of trees to the north of the property, Herbert stopped and shut off the engine of his three-wheeler. He pointed at a tree stand farther into the woods, which Darlene hadn’t noticed. There was an even higher platform, too.

“If we had enough people we could put someone up there. You can see this entire side of the property as well as the stream and anything coming up over the hill.”

“Anyone who knows the area would know to come around this way, I would think,” Darlene said. It made sense to her. She climbed to the top and stared out over the property, only a couple of higher trees blocked the view. She could see for miles, and she made note of the houses she saw and anything else for future use. She was getting into the mindset of defending this land from anyone who tried to take it from them.

She looked down at Herbert and gave him a thumbs up, but it didn’t really matter right now. They only had two people to watch over the entire property at night.

During the daytime
, she thought, as well. In the far distance, she could see a line of cars. They were either bumper-to-bumper or abandoned. If those people weren’t able to keep going in their vehicles, they might be on foot. Looking for somewhere to stay or a place to hole up until this all blew over. If it ever did.

By the time Darlene climbed down, she was even sweatier than before. She wiped the dirt and sweat from her face, glad her hair was pulled back.

“We’ll knock off the little stuff today before dinner, but I think we need a real game plan,” Herbert said. He shook his head. He looked tired and worn out already, and they hadn’t been doing anything strenuous today.

“Are you alright?”

He nodded. “I’m too old for this. Sometimes I wonder why I try so hard to hold onto this place.”

“Because of the woman inside who loves you,” Darlene said.

“If I was smart, I would’ve put her on a bus and sent her to Florida to live with her brother and his family. Got her away from this mess.”

Darlene laughed. “You think this is only happening in California? We already know the country is a mess everywhere. Boston is...gone? Who knows? I don’t think anywhere is safe right now. Hopefully the rest of the world is watching and will help us. I can’t imagine too many more days going by without our allies sending over troops and supplies to get us back in order. I guarantee our troops overseas are being pulled back and the National Guard activated as well. This isn’t a movie. This is real, and our government has a plan in place.”

Herbert stared at her for a long time before finally nodding his head slowly. “I really hope so.”

“
Y
ou ready for your date
?”

“I thought for sure you’d forgotten about me.”

“Put your hands through the slot.” Tynes smiled as he produced the handcuffs.

“Really, man? You’re worried about little old me beating my way to freedom or something?”

“Policy. Just be glad I don’t do them behind your back.”

“Nice of you to finally check in on me. Have you seen the dregs I’ve been placed with? It’s a good thing I’m not dead.”

“Pembroke’s symbol should have kept you safe enough.”

“Oh, you knew about that?”

“I know more than you think I do.”

“Oh yeah? What do you think I think of you right about now?”

“There are censorship laws that prevent me from saying those kinds of things out in public.”

“Damn, you are good.”

Tynes opened the cell and began to escort Mike out of the station.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“With you?”

“No, like, in general.”

“No one has taken responsibility for the nuke in Wyoming. An extremist terrorist group based in Syria has said they detonated the two bombs here in the city, but their claims have no credibility. You can say you ‘told me so’ about the volcano.”

“I’m surprised it held out for as long as it did.”

“Almost too long; those people that had evacuated were starting to come back to their homes. A week is a long time to be uprooted. There was a run on most stores, huge lines. Looked like Russia back in the eighties.”

“How old do you think I am?”

Tynes ignored Mike’s comment. “Most places got cleaned out, some closed their doors; others were looted.”

“I fucking told you, man.”

Tynes nodded. “The computer models regarding the ash were mostly right about its path. They were, thankfully, a little off on the volume. But millions have already died from the initial blast and they expect more over the next few months from fallout, dust pollution, and crop failure.”

“And putting me in jail is going to rectify this somehow?”

“I should have known. It all comes back to you, doesn’t it?”

“I’m a narcissist, man. Who the hell else is it going to come back to?”

“The government has said they want things to run as smooth as possible as we ‘transition past this most difficult of times.’”

“Wow, talk about towing the party line. Of course that’s what they’re going to say. They’re trying to get all their little ducks in a row. Activating the National Guard and getting all our troops from overseas is going to take time. Can’t collect taxes if anarchy sweeps the nation.”

“A conspiracy theorist too? You should add that to your resume. Listen, things are a little tenser out there right now—”

“Tense? That’s rich, I’ve seen some of the guys the cops have brought in lately. They said they’re happy to be here, that it’s safer. And I’m not talking about shoplifters, man, I’m talking hardcore criminals, so you keep turning your blind eye if it makes you feel better. If I were you, I’d go grab your wife and get the hell out of here.”

“That a threat?” Tynes smacked Mike’s head as he pushed him into the cruiser.

“Fuck, man. No, it’s not a threat,” he said as he rubbed his forehead. “I’m just saying—”

“Maybe you shouldn’t just say. That kind of shit can be hazardous to your health.”

“Yeah, apparently. Just trying to help a brother out. Shit. I wonder what the judge is going to say when he sees a big old knot on my noggin.”

“Probably going to wonder why it took someone so long to put it there.”

They were less than a mile from their destination when the cruiser violently spun to the side as the rear end was t-boned by a much heavier, old Checker Marathon that at one time had been a taxicab, somehow doing nearly eighty on the traffic-packed roadway. Tynes’ car spun nearly one hundred and eighty degrees, the tires screeching wildly as they protested their sideways skid. The passenger side smacked a utility pole with a ruining crash of shattering glass and twisting metal, the collision causing the pine-tar-pitched wood to snap with a sound like a shotgun blast. The side of the car had stove-piped, almost fully encasing the splintered stump in a cocoon of metal and plastic, its fallen power lines hitting the street like spilled intestines.

A horn blared in the distance; Mike could barely make it out, as if it were being sounded by a lighthouse in a dense fog some miles away. And, like a ship attempting to return to safe harbor, Mike brushed the cobwebs from his mind, using the bleating horn as a reference point.

“What…what the hell happened?” Mike looked down at the pile of shattered safety glass in his lap. “Why am I wearing bracelets?” He moved his hands up so he could see the handcuffs. Slowly at first, and then in a rush, it came back to him. “Tynes. Yo, Tynes, you all right?”

The large cop was slouched over and to the side, his head resting on the huge broken pole that was now firmly entrenched where his partner would have been if cops still rode double.

“Tynes. Come on, man.” Mike grabbed the back of the front seat and shook it. Nothing, not so much as a grimace. “Fuck man. Help!” Mike shouted to the people that were streaming by. Even for New York, the apathy they displayed was overwhelming. People too lost in their own grief and sense of impending doom did little more than give a cursory glance as they went about trying to preserve their own lives.

Mike stuck his head out the destroyed window and gave one more shout, hoping that there was at least one decent person still out there. He was rewarded with a shower of sparks from the transformer suspended over his head. It swayed as the heavy cables that held it up struggled to do so without the added support.

“Are you kidding me? None of you fine upstanding citizens is going to help?”

“Fuck you, buddy. If you were so upstanding, you wouldn’t be in the back of that car,” a man dressed in a rumpled, yet expensive Armani suit said as he quickly passed by.

“Fair point. You’re still a dick!”

The man flipped the bird over his shoulder.

Mike began to kick the seat. “Get the fuck up, man. I’ve got a bad feeling this day is going to get a lot hotter. And I ain’t talking weather here.” A portion of the heavy metal cage that separated the front from the back of the vehicle was rolled over and down. There was a gap almost a foot across from the pole to the bent steel. Mike reached through and shook Tynes. Still nothing. He got the distinct impression the man was still alive, but he was unable to tell just how injured he was. A glint of sunlight shone off the clasp attached to the officer’s left hip pocket. It was a round disk with a retractable metal cord, which Mike was sure had a key ring attached to it with, most likely, handcuff keys.

“This sucks.” Mike was wriggling himself through the opening. His upper torso was mostly through as he did his best not to cut open his stomach on the sharp-edged protrusions the cage had produced. His side throbbed as he bent at an unnatural angle reaching for the pocket. His face was uncomfortably close to the officer’s. An irrational fear struck Mike that if Officer Tynes awoke as a zombie, he would easily be able to tear through the flesh on his mug.

“Now that would suck...can’t imagine having your face ripped off. Good thing I got the keys,” he said triumphantly as he lunged and pulled the clasp free then fell back into the rear seat. There was a small panic as he nearly dropped them. After some fumbling, he manipulated them to the point he was able to unlock his left hand and then quickly his right. “Oh, that feels so good,” he said as he rubbed his wrists. His celebration was short lived as a five-hundred-pound transformer landed on the hood, lifting the rear of the car off the ground for a brief moment. His head banged first against the front seat and then the back before the car settled down under the heavy popping protestations of newly crushed metal.

“Tynes, man, get your ass up. We need to get out of here!” Mike was heading for the smashed out window as electricity crackled along the hood. A reeking odor of gasoline assailed his nose as he first stuck his head out and then his body. He gripped the pole, and climbed all the way out, and put his feet on the ground, right into a growing puddle of fuel.

“This thing is going to go up like a Roman candle.” Mike moved away from the car, but a nagging urge tore through his chest, threatening to crush his heart under its weight. “Fuck you, Officer Tynes,” he said as he ran around the car to the nearly undamaged driver’s side. The door opened with a squeal as the front quarter panel rubbed against it. A loud pop signified when he’d cleared at least that one potential hurdle. The cop’s weight had pulled the seatbelt tight, and Mike had a hard time gaining enough slack to be able to press the release button. When he finally did, the clip shot past his face, rewarding him with a gash across his cheek.

“No good deed goes unpunished,” he said as he wiped the blood on his sleeve. Mike gripped Tynes’ right arm and pulled, but the man barely budged. “What the hell, man. Do you eat bowling balls for breakfast? Fuck it. I tried.” He turned to leave just as a small fire broke out over the hood. “This shit funny to you, God?” Mike cried to the heavens. He turned back around and reached in, grabbing the officer’s duty belt with both hands. When that didn’t work, he placed his feet against the frame of the car and leaned back. At first nothing happened; it was as though Mike was trying to roll a boulder up a hill. Then Mike felt a slight release, and there was a second where he thought perhaps it was himself being stretched, like a prisoner on a medieval torture device, but it was Tynes shifting, finally.

“Come on, you fat bastard!” he shouted as he savagely pulled backward, the blood in his hands cut off as the belt dug deeply into them. Adrenaline kicked in, and at a quarter inch to a tug, Mike figured he’d be done around the same time his body finished cooking. The flame had spread. Golden fingers licked up the face of the cracked windshield, desperately looking for a way in, and for the fuel needed to keep itself alive.

Tynes finally showed some signs of life as he grumbled about the rough treatment he was receiving.

“Yeah, so how’s it feel?” Mike asked through gritted teeth as he continued to yank the man free from the clutches of a car that desperately wanted the officer to go down with the ship.

Tynes let out a hearty grunt as he thudded onto the ground. His eyes, which had been closed, began to flicker. Mike pulled him another twenty feet across the pavement, confident that he was now far enough away should the car become engulfed in flames. Mike thought about just taking off before he noticed a couple of guys about fifty feet away greedily eyeing the car. One was holding what appeared to be a large kitchen knife, the other a butcher blade. The crowd had rapidly dispersed with the onset of imminent trouble.

Why? Why would they…that thing isn’t going anywhere.
Then he realized it wasn’t the car they wanted. It was the shotgun that had broken loose from its locking device. “No way, assholes. That’s mine.” Mike sprinted for the car just as one of the men made a break for it.
Unless he’s Jesse Owens, I’ve got this. Unless, of course, the stupid thing is stuck, then he’s going to stick me in the ribs with that knife.

“One for the home team,” Mike said as he grabbed the barrel of the twelve-gauge shotgun and pulled it out of the car. He quickly ratcheted a round into the chamber and spun. The man coming at him with the knife quickly veered off.

“Fuck you, honky. I’ll gut you,” the thug threatened.

Mike’s heart was hammering in his chest. He’d been in a fight or two in his life, but it’d always involved fists and generally had regarded a woman. Mike had the distinct impression that, at this very moment, he was fighting for his life, and the shaking barrel only confirmed that for him.

“Take the gun, Y-Dog; he ain’t gonna shoot you,” the man with the butcher blade said, wisely not coming any closer.

“Yeah, Y-Dog. Come and get this gun. I’m not going to shoot you,” Mike said, echoing the other man, hoping his voice wouldn’t break as he said the words.

Y-Dog began to circle to the side, making Mike look back and forth between him and the other man.

“My homies are gonna be here in a minute. Just drop the gun, whitey, and move the fuck away.”

“Homies? Whitey? You’re fucking white too, dumbass.”

“Ooh, he just called you out,” the other man said, putting his non-lethal hand to his mouth.

“Shut the fuck up, Z-man.”

“Z-man? Y-dog? What are you two idiots doing? Auditioning for Sesame Street?” He was trying to make light of the situation, but the gun was feeling heavier by the minute, and he did not know how much longer he could keep this brave charade up. “Fuck,” he mumbled as another of the threatening gang showed up.

“Stick the cop!” Z-man shouted.

Mike began to move closer toward the downed policeman. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Lookie, I think he’s going to cry,” the newcomer said. “Why don’t
you
get the fuck out of here?” The man’s smile faded away as he pulled out a small revolver and pointed it in Mike’s direction.

Mike spun and fired. A plume of blood arced out from the man’s chest, the pistol in his hand forgotten as he fell backward, blood coating his t-shirt. He gasped once as his back collided with the sidewalk. His left hand shot up and fell back down just as he took his final ragged breaths, blood pooling in the newly made concave in his torso.

“You…you fucking shot Duckie!” Y-Dog said as he came closer, wildly swinging his knife back and forth. “Do you know who we are?”

And right at that very moment, Mike did. He hadn’t been looking; maybe he should have. But then what? Could he have just turned his back and let them kill the cop? He could not for the life of him imagine what allegiance he had to Tynes. The guy was about to drop his ass in jail, maybe for the next year and a half of his life. And for what? The gangbangers no longer wore their colors on their head—it gave them away too quickly—but a black bandana shoved in a back pocket could only mean one thing, D Street Demons. Notoriously one of the most violent gangs the city had ever known. In fact, they were so vicious they’d either driven out or absorbed almost all their competition.