Broken Justice

by Ralph Gibbs

  He was trying to figure out where to start when he heard a voice upstairs. He pulled out the butcher’s knife tucked into his belt and made his way up. About halfway up, he froze when the step creaked. To him, it sounded like a shotgun blast, but there was no indication Danica heard. She seemed to continue to talk, but with whom he had no idea.

  As he approached the top stair, he began to make out the conversation. Except it wasn’t a conversation at all. It was two words repeated over and over.

  “I’m trying,” Donavan heard Danica say again and again.

  As he reached the top, he discovered the carpet was soaked. Making his way to the bathroom, he peeked in to find Danica lying naked on the floor, seemingly delirious from fever. He smiled. No longer worried, he confidently walked in and turned off the water. If she hadn’t been covered in vomit and shit, he might have raped her right then and there.

  “Hello Danica,” he said, leaning over her and eyeing her nipples. “Did you know you shit yourself? We’re going to have to get you cleaned up. After that, you and I will have lots of fun together, provided you don’t die.” He could feel his penis getting hard. “Yes, lots of fun.” He started not to care what she looked like. There would be plenty of time to find what he needed.

  **********

  “You,” Danica’s mother said.

  “Need,” Danica’s brother added.

  “To fight,” Danica’s father finished.

  “I’m trying,” she said on cue.

  Suddenly, the faces of her family were replaced by one covered in boils, oozing pus and fat wriggling maggots. Danica was sure it was a creature straight from hell come to punish her for disappointing her parents. She tried to scream, but her voice froze in her throat. The beast leaned over her, and when it smiled, maggots fell from its mouth and landed on her chest. She frantically tried to brush them off. When the creature reached for her, she curled up into herself.

  “Fight,” she heard her father’s voice say.

  “Come on, Danica, don’t be like that,” the creature said. “Let’s go into your bedroom and have a little fun.”

  “Fight, damn you, fight!” her father yelled.

  The creature grabbed her foot and started to drag her from the bathroom. Adrenaline pumped into her body. She kicked out and knocked the creature back, but it only laughed and grabbed her leg. As it started to pull her across the filth-covered floor, she grabbed at a drawer. As she did, her pistol skirted out from under her. Instinctively, she grabbed for it, but the gun came to a stop just out of reach. She made a desperate lunge and took hold of the weapon. As the creature turned to grab her leg again, it saw she held a pistol. The beast roared, let go of her and ran. Danica fired off six shots in rapid succession and then fainted.

  **********

  Donavan flew out of the room and smashed into the wall. His legs gave way, and he slammed against the wet carpet. Leaving a trail of blood, he stumbled his way down the stairs using the banister for support. Reaching the bottom, he took two steps and collapsed. He pulled himself up, only to take two more steps and collapse again, this time falling into the television and knocking it over. He tried to collect himself by taking deep breaths, but he was having trouble breathing. Examining his body, he was surprised to find blood pouring from a trio of wounds in his chest. How did she shoot him in the chest when he was running away?

  Making his way through the kitchen, he seemed to hit every pot and pan on the floor, and he laughed at the sudden effectiveness of the makeshift alarm system. Opening the door, he fell down the two steps and hit the pavement hard, breaking his nose and chipping a tooth. Stunned and in pain, it took him a moment to regain his feet. As he did, a sudden calmness passed through his body. It was as if he’d just snorted a line of cocaine.

  Straightening his shirt, he took a step toward Erica’s house, but changed his mind and turned toward the street. He sat on the curb up against a fat tree.

  Digging into his pants pocket, he pulled out the two pills he’d hidden away a few days earlier.

  “This will fix me all up,” he said downing both.

  “Donavan?” Wade said, coming to his side a short time later. Donavan coughed up blood and a half-digested pill and then looked up to see Wade. “Did you find the drugs?”

  “I think that bitch killed me,” Donavan replied, gasping. “I can’t die; I’m the Nipple Cannibal. I’m going to be a legend.” Racked with pain, Donavan started to cry.

  “Did you find the drugs?”

  “Wade,” he said tears streaming down his face. “Take me home.

  I . . . I want my mo . . .” Donavan’s hands fell hard to his side, the force of which caused him to fall over.

  Wade searched through Donavan’s clothes but found nothing.

  “Damn,” Wade said as he walked back to Erica’s house. He shut the door leaving Donavan’s body to rot on the curb. It served him right for his failure.

  CHAPTER 17

  President Dixon hunched over his desk and rested his forehead on his fingers; eyes closed in concentration and frustration. He was still smarting over the speech he’d given. What was it, days or weeks ago? Love thy neighbor? What kind of bullshit was that? That will teach him to go off-script. Now he would be the laughingstock of history.

  It was times like those he questioned his leadership abilities, questioned why he ever ran for president. But he knew why. He ran because he wanted to reach immortality through history. Some people were content to live their lives in obscurity; he was not. He wanted to be remembered, and presidents, for better or worse, were never forgotten. Books, websites, and movies were made about presidents, and the pandemic ensured he would be written about. Maybe not right away, but once the world returned to normal, the generations that followed would seek to understand everything that had happened in a world turned primal and his role in reshaping their future. The world would return to normal. Of that, he was sure. This was not the end of humanity as some suggested; it just seemed like it. However, it would get worse before it got better. Already, governments were failing. What, then, would rise to take their place? Democracy? Theocracy? Monarchy? Ask some in the United States, and they would tell you the nation was on its way to dictatorship, and he was leading the charge. However, that was to be expected after declaring martial law. It wasn’t done lightly, nor was it a popular decision among his staff.

  When the president had first broached the subject, he had watched Congressman White closely. The man was one of the most emotional men he knew. The fact that he sat stone-faced in the monitor meant he wasn’t happy at being caught flatfooted. His blank expression had spoken volumes.

  “Mr. President,” the Congressman said slowly, an edge to his voice. “I’m getting the feeling that I’m being used, that you want me to be your Andrew Johnson.”

  “I don’t understand the reference,” Nawrocki said.

  “When Lincoln ran for his second term, he dropped Vice President Hamlin, a Republican, in favor of the Southern Democrat and Tennessee Military Governor Andrew Johnson,” the president said. “He put Johnson on the ticket to shore up support among Northern War Democrats and to show that both Republicans and Democrats were committed to keeping the Union whole.”

  “That’s not what this is about,” Nawrocki said, harshly.

  “Yes, it is,” the president said.

  “Sir?” Nawrocki said, surprised at the president’s brutal honesty.

  “Marion listen,” President Dixon said. “You and I have been in the political game too long to know politicians like us don’t do anything without reason and doubly so when we’re reaching across the aisle. The sad fact is we’ll use friends, family, whoever and whatever, like chess pieces to achieve our goals. Right now, you’re the best piece I have.”

  “You were always smart,” Congressman White said. “That’s why you’re the president, and I’m the speaker of the House.”

  “No, Marion, I’m president because you made a few unfortunate gaffes during the campaign, g
affes that swayed the majority of undecided voters my way. It was still a narrow victory.” He took a breath. “Did you see what happened to that CNN reporter?” President Dixon asked.

  “That wasn’t pretty,” Congressman White said. “Is he being arrested?”

  “What’s left of the police tried,” Nawrocki said. “They killed a few, but the real killer got away. Two police officers were killed in the process.”

  “The United States is falling apart,” the president said. “Murder is spiking; people are rioting, and there’s looting in every major city. Despite the announcement that antibiotics are ineffective, people are rushing hospitals and pharmacies stealing any antibiotics they find. Three major hospitals have been ransacked and gutted. In two cases, people simply panicked. They broke through the barricades and then rushed inside, grabbing whatever medicine they could find. They grabbed medicine right off patients’ tables, beating or killing them if they resisted.”

  “One case is particularly disturbing,” Nawrocki said. “In Memphis, a group calling itself the Invisible Confederate Militia raided a hospital for drugs and took eight nurses’ captive. They killed anyone that tried to stop them. It was a precise and military-like raid. On their website, they’re blaming immigrants, African Americans, and homosexuals for bringing the plague down on our white Christian nation.”

  “That’s absurd,” the Congressman said, incredulous.

  “When has the absurd stopped a group like this?” President Dixon said. “It will only get worse. What was it the man said on CNN? ‘If people think they are already living under a death sentence, they lose their fear of the law.’”

  “What are we doing to stop them?” White asked.

  “There’s nothing we can do,” President Dixon answered. “At least not yet. The police on every level are decimated or unwilling to risk going against heavily armed groups without federal backup. I can’t say as I blame them. The military is busy securing our nation’s most important documents in Fort Knox. It hasn’t been easy for them, either. Our men are being attacked at every turn by people looking for doctors, medicine, weapons, or by people who think the government is coming to put them in concentration camps. Right now, the best we can hope for is that the plague kills off the idiots.”

  “I doubt it will,” the Congressman said. “For some reason, idiots are like cockroaches; nothing ever kills them except themselves.”

  “There are also reports of states leaving the Union,” Nawrocki said.

  “Which states?” the Congressman asked, still shocked at the level of violence being committed. Thanks to his advisors, he was aware of specific events since the plague started, but this was beyond anything briefed.

  “It varies,” the president said. “As of now, it’s just a few disgruntled groups upset the last two presidents were Democrats. At the moment, I’m not taking it too seriously, but—”

  “—But, we need to make it clear the US Government will not tolerate seditious talk,” the Congressman said bluntly.

  “Agreed,” the president said. “I will not let history record that our administration presided over the demise of the United States. I won’t allow that. I won’t.”

  “Mississippi?” Stroud asked.

  “That one I’m taking seriously,” the president said. “The governor of Mississippi has officially announced on local television his state’s withdrawal from the Union. If he’s not dealt with, others may think they can get away with it, as well. I plan on having him arrested and made an example. He will be tried for treason and shot.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” the Congressman asked. “Virginia, Arkansas, Tennessee and North Carolina didn’t leave the Union until after Lincoln called up federal troops. This might have the same effect.”

  “That was a different time,” the president said. “People were more loyal to the state than the government. I doubt people want to disband the United States, at least not until after the plague has passed. They’d be too afraid of missing out on the cure.”

  “All right,” the Congressman said. “I’m convinced. I’m willing to go along with this, at least to a point, but can we legally declare martial law?”

  “In my expert opinion, we can,” Attorney General Jack Benson said.

  “One of your predecessors, in his expert opinion, against all the laws of our nation, wrote that waterboarding was legal,” White said. “So, you’ll understand if I’m a little dubious of expert opinions. Don’t tell me; convince me.”

  “Martial law is basically the suspension of habeas corpus and in this case, the Posse Comitatus Act as well,” Benson said as if expecting the request. “However, Article 1, Section 9 of the Constitution states that the Writ of Habeas Corpus can only be suspended in cases of rebellion or to ensure public safety. Ditto with the Posse Comitatus Act.

  “Near the end of the Civil War, Lambden Milligan was sentenced to death by a military commission in Indiana for engaging in acts of disloyalty. He and four other men were planning to take over the government of Indiana. The case went all the way to the Supreme Court. Justice David Davis wrote that even though the court found in favor of Milligan and declared martial law in Indiana unconstitutional, wrote that in cases where the courts are unable to administer justice, the government, per the Constitution may rule by martial law, but only until courts have been reestablished.”

  “Granted, but he was talking about cases of invasion or civil war,” White said. “I don’t think we could get away with declaring martial law over the invasion of the plague.”

  “I disagree, senator,” Benson said. “There is precedent throughout American history of martial law being declared after a disaster. Chicago mayor Roswell Mason declared martial law after the Great Chicago Fire in 1871. Martial law was imposed on San Francisco after the 1906 San Francisco earthquake and in Louisiana in 2005 after Hurricane Katrina. Some might argue that only a state of emergency was declared after Katrina, but it was martial law nonetheless, just under the guise of a different name.”

  “Yes, but this was done by local officials, not by the president,” White argued.

  “That’s true,” Benson said. “The last time a president declared martial law was when Abraham Lincoln did so during the Civil War. He also did it without the permission of Congress, though they approved it six months later. Since most of the courts have been shut down and there is no functioning Congress, it’s my opinion that the president is constitutionally authorized and, I would argue, constitutionally duty bound to declare martial law.”

  “How long,” White asked.

  “Until a functioning Congress declares otherwise, or we have a functioning legal system,” the president answered.

  “My party will have a conniption,” White said.

  “They’ll get over it,” the president said.

  Senator White leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin. He let out a deep breath. “All right, I agree. I would suggest we swear me in as soon as possible after you make the announcement. It’ll look less . . . nefarious.”

  “Once you’re sworn in, I’ll send Air Force Two to pick you up,” the president said, relieved. “How are you liking Raven Rock?” Raven Rock was an underground military installation with a nuclear bunker located in Blue Ridge Summit, Pennsylvania.

  “You might want to wait on that,” White said. “People know about this place and have been trying to get inside. There’s been more than a dozen skirmishes. You send a plane, and I’m not sure we’ll be able to avoid a bloodbath.”

  “Do you need assistance?” the president asked.

  “The place is a fortress,” White said. “The men can handle things.”

  “All right, but I want you sworn in right after the announcement,” the president said. “I’ll declare Mrs. Martinez unfit to continue in her position as VP.”

  How would history judge his actions? Lincoln declared martial law and historians still consider him the second-best president after Washington. Now, like Lincoln, he was be
ing thrown into the deep end of the pool. With civilization hanging in the balance, would he sink or swim?

  “Mr. President, are you okay?” Tech Sergeant Miles asked through the intercom.

  “What?” he said, startled into the now. “Oh, I’m fine, Kayla. Just a little tired.”

  “You’re not—”

  “Sick?” the president said, smiling at her. “No. I’m as fine as can be expected under the circumstances. I’m just . . . concerned.” Wouldn’t that be something if after more than three weeks in quarantine to come down with the plague? Even after the mandatory month-long quarantine, once they opened the door, most would still end up holding their breath around him not knowing if a month was long enough. But they couldn’t keep him in the cell forever. Eventually, they too would have to sink or swim. He could see that Kayla didn’t know how to respond to his confession. Instead, she punted.

  “Director Nawrocki, Defense Secretary Stroud, and Attorney General Jack Benson are standing by.”

  “Vice President White?” the president asked.

  “Nothing yet Mr. President,” she said. President Dixon composed himself and then keyed up Nawrocki, Stroud, and Benson on his computer.

  “Thank you all for attending,” the president said.

  “Mr. President,” Kayla said, interrupting. “Vice President White standing by.

  “Marion, thank you for joining us,” President Dixon said. “You’re just in time for the security briefing.”

  “Sorry I’m late, Mr. President. “We had a brownout here,” White said.

  “Is there an issue?” the president asked, concerned.

  “No major problem,” White said. “Someone forgot to fill the generator is all. It’s okay now.”

  “Fine, then,” President Dixon said. “Mr. Stroud, please begin.”