Town on Fire: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Series, 25BF Season 2 (25 Bombs Fell)

by A. K. Meek

  Kurt stopped dead in his tracks. He didn’t need to say a word to explain the disapproval that on his face. But he did anyway. “Aub, are you kidding me?”

  Shortly after the ambush, the city council held meetings on security. There had been much discussion—and even more disagreement—over how to proceed. Several councilmembers, including the mayor, wanted to force everyone into the city, into a safe zone. Mandatory evacuations, as she put it. No different than clearing a community about to be charred by a fire or moving a coastal community in the face of a hurricane.

  Kurt, always one to lean toward individual responsibility, had been against the idea from the beginning, believing the whole situation was shaping up to be an authoritarian grab. Fortunately, Ernest agreed with him. They held enough sway in their respective positions to make their combined objections carry weight. In the end, the council decided on a compromise: build a protective barricade around the city, set up patrols, and any that wanted to were allowed to relocate behind the barricade.

  “I listened to you earlier,” Aubrey said. “We’re building a barricade. But you can see it’s not going to work.”

  Kurt turned to her. “You’re as hardheaded as you were in high school. You can’t stand losing an argument. You’ve been waiting for the moment to say the wall won’t work.” He took a minute to mull over his words, contemplating. He said, “Don’t you think I want to protect everyone? Especially after…” He couldn’t finish the sentence or the thought.

  In the decades she’d known him, Aubrey had never seen Kurt cry. He wasn’t that kind of guy. Not even when he broke his leg in the homecoming game his senior year, effectively ending his fledgling football career. He grimaced, and made a couple of lame jokes, but didn’t cry. She had cried enough for her boyfriend then.

  But now, any mention of Shiloh made him rush from a room, turn away, or promptly excuse himself to go to the bathroom. It was like all the years of pent up emotion had finally filled to the brim and were ready to spill out, uncontrolled.

  She put her hand on his shoulder to offer some comfort, and to her surprise, it felt as natural as if she’d been doing it her whole life. She quickly pulled it away. “Kurt, how are you doing? I’m worried. You haven’t had any time off.”

  “There’s too much to do. With the kidnappings, and now—”

  “It’s always something,” Aubrey interrupted him. “If not this, then that. If not that, then this,” she sung in a high-pitched voice as she swung her hips to each syllable.

  Kurt gave a slight chuckle and shook his head. “You know I hate that Ms. Chipmunk voice.”

  Aubrey laughed. “I know, but,” she put her hand on his face and gently turned his head so she could look into his eyes, “when were you last home? What about Marcia?”

  She hadn’t talked to her high school boyfriend in years. She knew Kurt spent more time at the office than he did at home and if she was completely honest with herself, she didn’t mind that one bit. But now, since the ambush, she felt pity for Marcia instead of the jealousy that she had refused to admit to for so long.

  And she hated herself for feeling it. For someone that wanted to know everything about everyone, she sure had her share of secrets. Plus, it felt like she was betraying her dead husband. That was probably the worst.

  Kurt stepped a little closer to her, like he was going to say something in her ear. But when he looked over her shoulder, his expression changed—he looked like he’d just seen the devil.

  “Crap,” he whispered.

  Turning, Aubrey saw Reverend Farah marching down the street, straight toward them. He always walked fast, one of those people that seemed to be in a hurry. But the speed he moved at now made his normal pace appear like a casual stroll. LaTonya trailed a little behind, her long strides making up for her slower pace, keeping the reverend from getting too far ahead.

  “Mayor!” he said as he neared. He gave Calliope a quick, disdainful glance before returning his attention to Aubrey. “I just heard two of my congregation have been kidnapped.” His face was flushed and his chest heaved, either from his sprint or the news.

  Kurt glared at his deputy. She ignored him and continued fawning over Susie, who she held like a newborn.

  “Yes, Reverend,” Aubrey said with a huff. “I was made aware of the situation not more than a few minutes ago.”

  “Well, I hope you’re acting swiftly.”

  “I’m acting swift enough.”

  Kurt stepped forward, inserted himself between the reverend and his former girlfriend. “Listen, Reverend, I was just briefing Aub—the mayor, on the situation. I’ll begin a formal investigation as soon as I get to my office.”

  The reverend shook his head, the response not satisfying him. “I hope you’ll send out a party looking for them. I’m going to get my congregation activated. I’ve got over a hundred and fifty members. We’re an army ready to go to battle for our lost brother and sister.”

  “Hold on,” Kurt held up his hands in a cautioning manner, “let’s not start this by going off with a mob. That’s the last thing we need. If you haven’t noticed, this town is dangling by a thread as it is.”

  “Sheriff, we’re all on threads, especially after finding out there’s racially motivated crimes happening right under our noses.”

  “Wait,” Aubrey sidestepped Kurt. “You’re jumping to a conclusion. There’s no indication this is racially motivated. I’m holding another council meeting, and we’re going to discuss security.” She looked at Kurt, hoping the reverend’s allegation outweighing Kurt’s reservations on mandatory evacuations. Her mind was made up. “Something will be done. Tonight. Everyone will be safe.”

  With a renewed sense of determination and purpose, she spun on her heel and headed back to the courthouse. She needed to get ahold of the council, and quickly.

  Reverend Farah gave one last look of dissatisfaction directed at no one specifically, then headed back to his church, leaving Kurt and LaTonya, one holding the reins to Calliope, one cradling Susie. Kurt shook his head at LaTonya. That’s all he needed to do.

  She shrugged and held Susie up. “What? He knew Susie, he knew they wouldn’t leave her. I had to tell him, he’s my pastor.”

  “Sometimes I really hate you, La T.” Kurt gave Calliope’s lead a quick tug a, “c’mon girl,” and headed back to the sheriff’s office.

  “You know you love me,” LaTonya yelled. “I’m your favorite deputy.”

  Kurt couldn’t help but smile.

  02.03

  THE LESSER BROTHER

  Johnny’s butt couldn’t take much more sitting around the sheriff’s office. He had been hanging out all day, doing nothing of any importance, acting busy when someone stopped by instead of helping outside where he could. The rest of the sheriff’s office, all the deputies and volunteers, had been out and about since the early morning. Many were patrolling the barricade that was being cobbled together around the town in the hope of shutting out the world.

  He gave a quick look at the worn surveyor’s map of the town pinned to the corkboard. A red sharpie defined a rough circle around the town with the courthouse as the center.

  That line was where the city council decided to build the barricade, the wall, to prevent any more intrusions.

  Like the one he led into town. The one that killed fifteen people. Including his nephew.

  Blocking off streets was easy enough, at least from what he’d heard, the difficult part was securing the surrounding forests. For the most part the perimeter followed streets, concrete and asphalt parking lots, or where houses could form a defensible position. The forests and surrounding orchards had to have patrols. Hopefully they’d catch anyone trying to sneak through the wooded areas.

  All this thinking made Johnny’s head hurt. He needed a drink.

  But given this whole end of the world thing going on, the council also decided to institute a rationing for many of the essentials: food, water, clothes. And beer. Johnny saw the last as the most important esse
ntial.

  Kurt barged into the office, startling Johnny upright from where he had his feet propped up on a desk. He pretended to be inspecting a discolored section of wall. He examined the water stain with all the attention and importance like that act alone would save them all from the apocalypse. He was horrible at acting busy.

  Kurt spilled out a couple of choice curse words he reserved for when he was really mad, ripped off his hat and wiped his sweaty head with a forearm. “I can’t stand her sometimes,” he said.

  “Who?” Johnny asked.

  “LaTonya.”

  “Now you know how I feel about her all the time.”

  Kurt dismissed his younger brother and focused on the stain. “What’re you doing?”

  Johnny fumbled with an answer.

  “Never mind,” Kurt cut him off. “We need to get all available deputies in here.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Besides the world falling apart, we have a possible kidnapping.”

  Johnny plopped back into the chair. He put his feet on the desk. “Really?”

  “Yeah, the Smiths.”

  Johnny gaped.

  “LaTonya and I were just over there. Looks like someone broke in, trashed the place. They left their dog.”

  “Little Susie?”

  Kurt was pulled completely out of his story. His eyes widened. “You know their dog? How popular is she?”

  “Kevin has pics of her. We hang out some and that’s pretty much all he talks about.” Johnny sat up straighter. “So, they’re gone? Their house is empty?”

  Kurt headed for his office. “Terrible, isn’t it? That’s all we need.”

  “I’ll go.”

  Kurt stopped. He hadn’t expected Johnny to volunteer for anything beyond going on a beer run. It almost made him smile. “Go? You’re wanting to help?”

  “I’ll go help round everyone up. I need to get out. I’ll head toward the Smiths, go from there, and see who I find.”

  “That’s great. Charlie should be out that way with his crew. I’m gonna grab a quick bite then head to the south and meet up with Clive. Grab a lantern, it’ll be dark soon.”

  Johnny gave an unpracticed salute, took one of the Coleman lanterns from a stockpile donated by the local Ace Hardware store and shook it to make sure it was full of kerosene. On his way out the door, he swung by his backpack hanging on a coat rack peg and grabbed an extra pack of smokes.

  As he left the office, he smiled at the opportunity that just opened up to him.

  He knew he would be drinking soon. And he always needed a cigarette when he drank.

  Since the bombs fell, the sky had been blanketed in roiling clouds that were more like smoke. A taste of burning lingered in the air when the winds shifted from the north downward. On a couple of occasions flakes of ash fell from the sky, like an otherworldly black snow had begun. Fortunately, it’d never lasted long.

  Everyone knew the nation had been bombed. No one doubted they were nuked. The question was who bombed them, and why, and just how much had been bombed. With each wind shift were they getting irradiated? Were they being contaminated by the minute? Those were the questions that everyone’s mind, the ones not asked, but still there.

  Including Johnny’s.

  He never was one to take life seriously, despite all the attempts life threw at him to take it seriously. Blissfully ignorant would have been his motto, if he were perfectly honest with himself. But he wasn’t honest with anyone else, so why start now?

  His mind shifted from thinking of the end of the world to his immediate circumstance; navigating the quiet streets of Bartel, guided only by a lamp.

  Spooky wouldn’t begin to describe the powerless town. As night fell, darkness enveloped all movement and sound. And life. Johnny had the impression that suddenly he was left in a vacant town, all alone. The only other life was the lantern that swayed in his hand, glowing yellow, barely able to cut into the overwhelming dark. He sped up.

  He had visited Kevin’s house a handful of times. Each time had turned into an all-nighter. He didn’t remember much that happened once he got his drink on. That meant he must’ve had a good time.

  Johnny knew Kevin from when they both hung out at the Whistling Pig, a local bar that continually teetered on the brink of having its liquor license permanently revoked due to questionable practices. Since the bombings, the mayor had decided the business should temporarily close as all alcohol become a rationed item. Old Bud Reddick, Whistling Pig’s owner, didn’t like the idea, but didn’t have a say-so. Johnny didn’t like the idea any better than Bud and frequently made his thoughts known to his brother.

  Even though nowadays, the only cars to roll down the streets were pulled by men or horses, Johnny stuck to the sidewalks. Either force of habit or a thin hope that a powered car might come down the road at any moment kept him there.

  His daydreaming of nothing significant ended as he realized he had already turned onto Blossom Road a half block ago. His heart skipped a beat in anticipation. He pulled a long drag off his smoke before flicking it to the ground. He rubbed his heel over the glowing ember before going to the Smith’s house.

  Kurt had one his deputies cordon the house with yellow police tape. With a glance left and right, Johnny ducked under it and marched to the door. He stood a little taller as he wanted to convey the impression of official business to anyone that might possibly be watching.

  He knocked on the front door. “Johnny Cassidy from the Sheriff’s Department,” he said with false importance to complete the impersonation.

  No answer, which he expected.

  He dimmed his lantern before circling the house, scanning each window for any sign of life. Finding nothing, he returned to the rear window that looked to have already been broken from the kidnapping. He shut off the lantern before pulling away the rotting piece of plywood that had been hastily wedged there, giving him easy access inside.

  He didn’t remember the exact layout from when he was last here, on account of him being wasted, but it was a small house after all, so there weren’t many directions for him to go. He wandered in the dark, stubbing his toe only a couple times. But like a practiced burglar, he eventually found the refrigerator.

  The smell of rotting food greeted him as he yanked the door open. Involuntarily, his stomach spasmed and he gagged. He held his breath and buried his mouth in his forearm. Clumsily he felt around the fridge, and finding a familiar, slender neck, pulled out a six pack then slammed the door shut.

  Despite the rising bile in his throat and the sensation of wanting to throw up, he relished the payoff for his nighttime adventure. He took his small pocket knife and effortlessly popped the cap off the beer.

  At some point early in his life he’d made the philosophical argument as to why you should never drink warm beer, under any circumstance. That all went out the window with the apocalypse and he took a long, well-deserved drink of the room temperature beer.

  He’d gambled on the faint hope that Kevin had some stashed in his house. He figured if the man was kidnapped that would probably be one of the last things he would be concerned about. Fortunately, no one else thought of breaking in for the beer before him.

  Finding the worn couch in the living room, Johnny dropped onto it and propped his dirty boots on an end table. He slammed three longnecks before he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and slid one into his mouth. Nothing like a good smoke with a drink.

  As he fished for his lighter, he thought of Janelle, Kevin’s wife. The living room smelled like her perfume.

  When he was here partying with Kevin last, she had smiled at him one too many times and he got it stuck in his head that she liked him, much like an eighth grade boy thinks when his teacher smiles at him fondly. So he found himself making excuses to hang out with Kevin, many times just to catch sideways glimpses of her as she went from room to room or played with her mutt. He was sure one day she would drop Kevin and profess her burning desire for Johnny. It was just a matter of time
. And patience. In Johnny’s life, waiting for the unlikely had been one subject he’d aced.

  He flipped the cover off his lighter, but before lighting his smoke, he glanced out the living room window to make sure no one was lurking around. As his eyes adjusted from the midnight-dark interior to backlit clouds, he saw commotion across the street. He wasn’t sure if the alcohol had already hit him hard, so he squeezed his eyes tight to clear any fog, then opened and focused again.

  It took him a minute for his pickled mind to make sense of the movements. Silhouettes scurried around the single level home across the street. Then, he saw two shadowy figures carry a body down the doorsteps!

  Johnny hunched over as he scurried across the room to the window, trying his best to remain hidden. He ducked down enough so that his eyes barely peered over the sill.

  The two figures wrestled with the body between them, like it had been bound but was still fighting. Johnny couldn’t tell, but it looked like one of the two clubbed, or punched the struggling body. It went still and they continued around the house, disappearing out of sight.

  Like a lightning bolt striking, Johnny realized someone else was being abducted right before his eyes. And his brother needed to know.

  Making his way to a bathroom window, opposite from the direction of the kidnapping, he crawled back out of the house into the night. Only after he started running down the street did he notice he was buzzed more than he originally thought.

  02.04

  FOREST INTERLOPERS

  A wounded dove cooed in the twilight. Kurt never could master the bird call, but it was good enough to let the others know where he was. In the distance a response, a dove that sounded much healthier. Kurt, now on foot after having left Calliope about a quarter mile back, covered the rest of the short distance on foot.