United States Of Apocalypse Read online

  “Those don’t go bad.”

  “Can’t be too safe.” The door slammed so hard the windows rattled in the front entrance.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Day 13 - July 15th

  Mike drifted off to sleep, the sound of sirens far away in the distance. He laughed, thinking that this area probably had an ordinance against that kind of loud noise. He dreamed of nameless, faceless men chasing him, at first through the streets of New York, and then somehow they became zombies, relentlessly pursuing him through an unfamiliar wooded area. This ended with him running through some huge underground bunker that he thought people around him called The Hill. He started awake when he ended up on some alien terrain and the men had given way to something far more dangerous and insidious.

  “What? Where the fuck am I?” He sat straight up on the couch. He had the feeling it was the middle of the night. The house was dark and quiet, too quiet. It put him on edge. I’m not fucking alone. His heart started to seize in his chest. He remembered putting the shotgun next to the coffee table on the far side of the room. He got up slowly, waiting for some gangbanger to rush him. He moved quietly, trying his best to decipher the shadows in the corners. He lunged and grabbed the rifle. He pumped a round into the breach. There was not another sound on earth that could put more fear into a man’s heart than that of a shotgun being primed.

  “Where the fuck are you!” he shouted. He hesitated turning on a light for fear of giving himself away. How did they find me? Did Tynes let them know? No fucking way. He might be an asshole cop, but he’s not a murderer. Plus, no matter what deal he made with them, they would roll this house down to the studs. He backed up to a corner, trying to cover all angles of approach.

  Something brushed up against his leg. His dreams rushed back. “It’s a zombie!” He didn’t know he had his finger in the trigger guard when he reflexively pulled back in fear. Plaster and wood rained down onto the couch he’d just vacated. So much for the brushed suede.

  “Fuck!” He tried to jump back but was hampered by the wall. The thing by his feet rubbed up against his calf again. He sidestepped away, knocking over a lamp and a small statue. He kept going until he felt a light switch in the small of his back. He didn’t know if he was more scared or less when the light came on. One of the biggest cats he’d ever seen, even on the National Geographic channel, was looking back at him. The coal black animal sat on his haunches and proceeded to lick its claws. Mike thought they looked more like talons.

  Mike’s gaze traveled up from the cat to the newly formed blast hole in the ceiling. “Oh, shit. He is going to kill me.” He was finally distracted from the wound in the plaster when the cat stood, stretched, and yawned, revealing sharp, barb-like teeth. “What am I supposed to feed you, mountain goats?” Mike made a wide turn around the cat and went into the kitchen. He rooted around in the fridge, hoping to come across a whole marlin or something equally as big to keep the beast in the living room happy. “Nothing for a carnivore your size. Maybe the pantry.” Mike opened a doorway that led into a food room that was as big as the bedroom he’d had at his parent’s house. “Holy shit, Tynes! are you preparing for Armageddon?” A whole shelf was dedicated to cans of cat food and treats. “Whoa,” Mike said after grabbing three cans. The cat was at the doorway, its tail swishing back and forth in an agitated manner. “I’m working on it! Shit, you’re huge. You remind me of that panther from the Disney movie. What the hell was his name? Bag … something.”

  The cat meowed loudly.

  “Fine, your name is Baggie. Let me live, and I’ll put your food in a bowl.” The cat didn’t budge. Mike pressed his back up against the doorjamb and swung around, relieved when he found himself back in the more spacious kitchen. The cat eyed him as he opened up cabinets until he found a bowl. He scraped out all three cans hastily as the cat began to saunter up to him.

  “Here.” He put the bowl down and scooted it away with his foot. The cat sank into it greedily. Mike got a small bowl of water and went to put it next to the food. When he did so, the cat looked up and gave a savage hiss.

  “Asshat,” he told Baggie as he put the water down and left the kitchen. “How the fuck did that thing get in the house anyway?” His question would have to wait as the lights flickered once, then again, and finally went out. He looked out the window to see that the entire street was now a black canvas with a fiery backdrop. He could see the glow of raging fires somewhere around Times Square.

  “How long before that chaos hits here?” People started coming out of their houses, looking around and talking animatedly to each other. “They’re all neighborly now, but in a week these fuckers are going to be at each other’s throats looking for supplies.”

  He thought about grabbing the gun, just as a show of strength, but decided against it and headed outside. He walked up to the nearest group. An older man, gray hair at his temples and the strict countenance of a university dean, watched as Mike approached.

  “I saw you come from Lawrence and Linda’s house. May I ask where they are and what you are doing there?”

  Lawrence? That giant’s first name is Lawrence? Who would have thought it? Mike thought as the man took in his filthy t-shirt and hunter green pants.

  “Tynes went to join his wife in Florida.”

  “And what are you doing here?”

  He wanted to tell the man to fuck off, but he could make trouble for himself that he didn’t need. “We’re cousins on our mother’s side.”

  The man looked down his long aristocratic nose at him.

  “Ask around. I’m sure one of your snooty, nosy neighbors saw us come here together. Isn’t that what you rich fucks do? Keep an eye out on everybody else’s business? I brought him home, and he decided to try to get to his wife. She’s visiting relatives in Florida. Asked me, no, damn near begged me, to keep an eye on his place while he was gone. Good thing I have all Lawrence’s guns. I’ve got a feeling things are going to get bad soon.” Mike was hoping his words would disseminate throughout the community so that he would not have any trouble further down the road.

  “Yes, I do remember Linda saying she was going to Florida. How is Lawrence planning on getting there with air traffic grounded?”

  “Drove.”

  “The president said they were restricting all traffic.”

  “Stubborn prick said because he was a cop they’d let him past the roadblocks.”

  The man’s eyebrows arched.

  “We’re related. I can talk about him like that.”

  “Right.”

  “Did he say anything about a giant cat to any of you?”

  “As far as I know, they have no pets. Both are too busy.”

  “Anything new on the news before the power went out? I was sleeping.”

  The man looked at Mike with scorn and derision, his eyes saying what his cultured mouth would not. “Perhaps if you took a bigger interest in the events that were going on around you, you would have the knowledge you desire. The ash will most likely reach us in the next couple of days. They are saying that the entire globe will be affected as the sun will be somewhat shielded from the planet. I wonder what kind of impact this will have on the paper I submitted to the National Academy of the Sciences.”

  “You’re fishing for a Nobel prize? How lofty. You realize we are on the verge of end of times, right?”

  “Oh, an extremist and alarmist. How simple minded of you.”

  “When you and yours are starving, don’t come my way. Just remember I told you all about the guns; I’m not kidding. The flights, the travel restriction, the power going out. That’s just the beginning. Nothing moving means no food gets delivered. No electricity means perishables go bad. Things don’t get better in a week, who’s to say what happens?”

  “Oh please, this is America. That kind of thing doesn’t happen, and even if it does, the government will step in.”

  “Hurricane Katrina ring any bells? And now, think of something like that catastrophe on a national scale. What
makes you think the feds could do a damn thing? They don’t have that kind of resource.”

  “But, but—”

  “I know where you’re going with that sentence. You’re rich and you’re white. Maybe you would get some preferential treatment. I don’t know. I’ve never had that kind of money. But, um, just where do you think all those city people who are already panicking are going to come when they need stuff?”

  “You’re insane.”

  “I like to consider myself a realist. I’m not a big fan of yours, but I think it would be in our best interests if the residents of this street got together and had a meeting about protecting ourselves.”

  “I’ll hear no more of this.”

  “Fine. You know where I’m staying when you change your mind. And if you come to my door, you’d better bring some catnip. Oh, and one more thing, if the shit gets really bad and you need ice for your martini, go somewhere else. I’m a pretty good shot. Always have been. My dad took me out when I was seven, and it was uncanny how accurate I was.” Mike headed back to the Tynes household.

  The cat had jumped onto the bay window seat and was watching as Mike came back. Mike could not help but be startled by it.

  “Fucking look like a puma. Wait. Where the hell you gonna sleep?” As if the question somehow gave the cat impetus to move, it jumped from its perch and was out of sight before Mike could get all the way into the house. “Probably plotting a way to take me down and eat me, fucking monster. Tynes said you were a stray, so no way you’re an all-the-time house cat. You sure as shit didn’t sneak in with me and Tynes. Tough to miss a cat the size of a pony. I really wouldn’t mind if you found your way back outside.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Day 12 – I-70

  Darlene took a quick shower and got dressed, making sure her sneakers were always close at hand in case she needed to run. She was starting to both enjoy and dread each day as she got into the mindset of being a prepper and waiting for the next attack.

  She could smell dinner and was glad it actually smelled like real food.

  Pheebz had nicely but firmly told her sister-in-law she was not needed in the kitchen to help with the meal and could fix her own family’s food in a few minutes.

  Darlene smiled at the two boys, who were sitting quietly on the floor in the hallway with their eyes closed, as she passed. So far, they’d been nothing short of amazing. She didn’t know if she’d heard either of them speak more than a few words yet.

  “What are you making?” Darlene asked.

  “Herbert grilled three juicy steaks, and I made mashed potatoes and sweet corn with homemade biscuits,” Pheebz said.

  “You do make some tasty biscuits,” Rosemary said. She was sitting at the kitchen table and didn’t look happy sorting through the meager foodstuffs she’d brought.

  “They are,” Pheebz said to Darlene. “The best biscuits you’ll ever eat. Too bad they have all these evil supermarket ingredients though.”

  “I’ll tough it out,” Darlene said, and hid her grin when she saw how annoyed Rosemary was just then.

  The rest of the day had been long and tough, but Darlene and Herbert had made some headway figuring out sight lines as well as whatever else they needed to do.

  They’d even managed to pull one of the ancient Mustangs from the red barn and move it down to the farthest building. They loaded up the pickup as well as a attached a cart with wooden slats to the three-wheeler. They spent the rest of the day adding the slats to holes in the fencing and replacing broken ones.

  Darlene hoped everyone else was as exhausted as she was because she needed to sleep, and the only way it was happening was if everyone went into another room and left the couch open.

  Herbert came into the kitchen with a troubled look on his face.

  “What now?” Darlene asked.

  “I just watched the news. Boston wasn’t attacked by terrorists. It was a riot. They’re saying, when the smoke cleared, no nuclear weapons or bombs had exploded. Just the people of the city,” Herbert said.

  Darlene sat down at the table across from Rosemary. “How can people be so stupid and uncivilized? There’s a major threat and they turn on one another.”

  “It’s happening in most major cities right now, I’m afraid. The president declared martial law, and a shot of Newark Airport showed two dozen military troop transports landing within minutes of one another. They’ve pulled most of our troops from Europe. The Navy will be monitoring the coasts soon. We’re already cut off from the rest of the world with no international flights in or out. They’ve grounded commercial flights as well for fear terrorists already inside the U.S. will move about the country and wreak havoc,” Herbert said.

  “Dinner is ready. We can solve the world’s problems after eating,” Pheebz said. She glanced at Rosemary. “I’m not sure what you need to do to make dinner for you and the boys, but I’m guessing not much.”

  “I just need three plates and silverware,” Rosemary said quietly, staring at the juicy steaks.

  Darlene closed her eyes. She couldn’t fathom how quickly the world everything had gone to hell. Was everything back home gone now? Had this senseless violence spread from Boston up to Maine? She wanted to skip dinner and watch the news, but she was too hungry. She was about to get up to see a quick news story when food was placed on the table before her.

  Everyone sat down at the table, Rosemary placing their odd food on plates. Darlene had never been around anyone who was vegan and didn’t know what half of the food was. It didn’t look good to her, especially with a hunk of steaming grilled meat on the table.

  The boys sat on either side of Darlene and looked positively miserable, staring at the vegetables on their plate and then at the other food on the table.

  “Let’s say grace,” Pheebz said and bowed her head, folding her hands in front of her face.

  “Dear Father...” Herbert began but there was a knock at the door.

  Herbert and Darlene were both up in seconds, grabbing the rifles nearby.

  “You cover me,” Herbert said to Darlene.

  Darlene nodded and moved the curtain of the window with the rifle, aiming at the area in front of the door. If anyone so much as looked funny, she decided she would shoot first and ask questions later, surprised at her attitude but knowing there was no room for error. Kill or be killed.

  “Who is it?” Herbert asked before stepping to the side, rifle at the ready.

  “It’s John.”

  Herbert looked confused. “John who?”

  “John Murphy. I was your guest a few days ago. My wife and I stayed here. I need help.”

  Herbert unlocked the door and opened it a crack.

  Darlene took two steps back at an angle and aimed at the corner of the doorframe. If something bad happened, she’d open fire.

  “You look like hell, boy. Get in here. Where’s your wife? Are you alone?” Herbert asked and dragged John into the house.

  “She’s gone,” John said. He turned and closed the door. “They’re all gone.”

  Herbert led John to the couch and dropped the man onto the cushion. Pheebz came into the living room and asked if John needed anything.

  John shook his head. He stared at the ceiling before closing his eyes. He didn’t look hurt; there were no obvious wounds or blood, but he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

  Darlene knew he probably hadn’t if everything on the news was to be believed. It was a jungle out there. She could only imagine what John had been through since he’d left.

  “Gone...” John mumbled before slumping on the couch and putting his head back. Darlene, Herbert, and Pheebz watched as John began to snore softly.

  “I’ll check him for wounds,” Herbert said. “It just looks like he’s dehydrated and worn out.”

  “I’ll get him a blanket and pillow,” Pheebz said. She looked at Darlene and frowned. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s sleeping on your bed,” Pheebz said.


  Darlene smiled. “He can have it. I’ll probably spend half the night on watch anyway. I can take a power nap in the chair. It’s more comfortable anyway.”

  “That’s why it’s my chair,” Pheebz said.

  “Go eat,” Herbert said. He began gingerly looking at John to see if he was hurt.

  “I can help,” Darlene said. Her face flushed with embarrassment. She was staring at John. Even looking so ragged right now, he was still handsome.

  Herbert shook his head. “I need to, uh, check him in a few spots. Make sure his legs and arms and torso are fine. Which means I might need to strip him down, if necessary.”

  “Which means we can’t watch as much as we’d like to,” Pheebz said.

  Herbert smiled at his wife. “Be careful. I’ll start to think you’ve been looking at other men all these years.”

  “I have. You can look, but you can’t touch, dear. I always come back to you,” Pheebz said.

  “Yeah, but are you thinking of me when we kiss?”

  Pheebz threw her hands up. “I guess I will be from now on.”

  Darlene loved how easy the couple was with one another and the real love they shared. She hoped to find it someday herself. But right now she was hungry.

  “The food is getting cold,” Pheebz said.

  Darlene followed her into the kitchen and sat down.

  Pheebz slapped the table. “How was your steak, Rosemary?”

  “Huh?” Rosemary asked, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Pheebz picked up her fork and jabbed it toward the piece of steak missing a good third. “You ate some of your brother’s dinner.”

  “No, she certainly did not,” Herbert said from the living room.

  “It was a little taste. We’re family,” Rosemary said.

  “I asked you if you wanted to abandon this foolish diet stuff and eat like a normal person,” Pheebz said.

  “It isn’t a diet. Veganism is a way of life.”