Dark Days (Book 1): The Collapse

by Davis, James

  Dark Days

  The collapse

  James Davis

  James Aldridge

  Copyright © 2019 Davis and Aldridge

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 9781672826242

  Chapter 1

  Clay Mitchell stood up from his dark brown recliner, and stretched his aching back. Smiling, he looked over at his wife, Ashley,

  “I really need to get ready for work.” he said as he strutted past her, shaking his ass like a cocky, male stripper. Ashley burst out in laughter, sending an icy blast of sweet tea all over his back.

  “Whoo! That is cold!” Clay yelped, arching his back and bouncing from foot to foot. Ashley leaned forward in her own chair and grabbed a handful of his butt cheek,

  "I'm gonna butter yo bread!" she said in a raspy voice.

  “Oh, no, you’re not!” he said, as he laughed and went high stepping away from her wandering hands. A stampede of little footsteps approached as Emma, Clay’s two-year-old daughter, charged out of her room, hearing all of the commotion.

  “I love you, Daddy,” she said as she climbed onto her mother's lap. Clay leaned down and kissed Emma’s forehead.

  “I love you, too, monkey!” he said, before going to his bedroom. He stood in front of the tall mirror and noticed a few dashes of gray that were starting to highlight his temples.

  "Well, sumbitch." he muttered, reaching for the tweezers, attempting to pluck the few gray hairs out. Clay gazed at the tall, dark haired man with hazel eyes and handsome features that gazed back at him from the mirror. Although he was getting older, he was also still impressively fit for a man of his age. Spending the better part of a decade in the Marines would do that to a guy, he thought as he finished getting dressed.

  Clay walked out into the bedroom and grabbed the Kimber 1911 from where it rested atop his dresser, carefully placing it in the holster on his right hip. He returned to the living room and put his boots on, then stepped over to his wife and daughter to kiss them goodbye.

  “Y'all have a great day, babe,” he said as he walked out of his home, ready to get a jumpstart on the day. Looking back, he saw his daughter blowing kisses at him through the glass storm door. Clay threw up his hand, catching the kisses from the little girl and stuffing them into his pocket. Seeing this, Emma squealed with joy and ran back to her mother. Clay chuckled at his goofy daughter as he opened the door to his old black semi and let loose an ear-piercing whistle. Right on cue, Sarge, a large black German shepherd, came tearing ass around the corner, launching himself into the truck.

  “Get out of my seat, you big meathead!” Clay said, nudging the dog over to the passenger side. Sarge had been riding shotgun on every trip since fate brought them together a couple of years ago. Sarge wasn't just a dog anymore, he was family. Clay waved one last time as he pulled out of the driveway, wishing he could just stay home with them. Nothing was more important to him than they were.

  Turning his rig onto the interstate, he floated through the gears getting the large Pete up to speed. He reached up and grabbed his CB mic.

  “Westbound, westbound, you got your ears on?” Static filled the cab while he waited for a response.

  “That's a big 10-4, I hear you loud and clear,” said another driver. Clay squeezed the talk button.

  “How's the traffic looking back there at that bridge construction?”

  “It was backed up all the way to the truck stop and moving slow, driver, you might as well stop and take a nap.”

  “10-4, thank you driver.” Clay said, as he hung his mic back up.

  Thirty minutes later he was downshifting and heading for the off-ramp. He had some time to kill in order for the traffic to clear up, so he turned the massive truck and trailer into the truck stop. He decided to go ahead and fuel up while he waited, it might save him some time down the road.

  He set the air brakes and climbed down out of the truck, adjusting the pistol on his hip. He slid his debit card into the fuel pump and punched in his pin number before twisting off the fuel cap to begin filling the tanks. The smell of diesel hit his nose and it immediately took him back to Iraq fifteen years earlier.

  He took a step back, waving his hand in front of his face before the flashbacks hit full force. Clay hated dealing with the flashbacks. He would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night in a puddle of sweat, screaming until Ashley put her hand on his bare chest to calm him down and bring him out of it. The thought made him shiver as he stood there blank faced and panting. He ran his hand over his face and let out a deep breath as the thought finally passed.

  Finishing up, he hung the nozzle back on the pump and pulled the truck forward. He grabbed his large coffee mug and headed inside for a hot cup of joe. Steam wafted up from the mug as he filled it to the brim, the sweet scent of the Columbian blend coffee made its way into Clay’s nose and caused his mouth to water with anticipation.

  The plastic mug warmed his hands as he slowly took the first sip, being cautious to not scald his tongue. The sweet yet bold flavor converged on his taste buds causing him to let out a small groan of pleasure. It really was the simple things in life, he thought as the warmth from the coffee seeped into his veins. This particular truck stop had the best coffee around, and he made it a point to stop here daily, if his route allowed for it.

  He noticed to his right a group of fellow truckers standing beneath a small flat screen mounted on the wall, sipping coffee and chatting amongst themselves. Curiosity getting the better of him, he decided to walk over and investigate. Sipping his own coffee he asked, “What's going on?” A short, round man opened his mouth to speak, but the tall blonde woman on the TV was already answering Clay's question.

  “Tensions rise as satellite images confirm increased activity at many of North Korea's nuclear facilities after the attack on the American fleet that was stationed just outside of the Korean peninsula. The president is set to make an announcement tomorrow afternoon, as communication attempts from Washington have thus far gone unanswered.”

  Clay, always one to take these things seriously, wasn't going to take any chances. He watched similar situations happen in other countries and knew exactly how fast society could descend into chaos once the infrastructure crumbled.

  Pulling out his phone, he navigated to the contact simply titled Ash and tapped the call icon. The phone rang several times and Clay heard a click followed by Ashley’s muffled voice,

  “Emma, I asked you to leave that alone!” The sound of a chair being dragged across the floor echoed in the background before Ashley spoke,

  “Hey babe. What’s up?” she said, letting out a quiet grunt.

  “Oh you know, just working. How’s your day been?”

  Clay asked as he browsed through packages of beef jerky. Ashley let out a long breath,

  “It’s been good so far. We went to the grocery store and picked up a few things then came home and now I’m trying to reach the Crock-Pot in the cabinet above the fridge so I can start cooking.” Clay chuckled, clearly picturing what was happening on the other end of the phone.

  “Sorry babe, I forgot to move that somewhere you could reach it.” A loud crash sounded over the phone followed by several curse words from Ashley.

  “Ash, are you alright?” Clay asked, panic starting to rise in his chest.

  “Yeah I’m just dandy!” she said, clearly agitated now.

  “What happened?” Clay asked, as he set his coffee and jerky on the store counter to pay for it.

  “Nothing, I just knocked that pile of crap off the fridge while getting the Crock-Pot. It’s fine.” she said with a sigh.

  “I’ll go through all that stuff and toss what we
don’t need when I get home.” Clay said, as he pulled out his wallet and paid for the coffee and jerky.

  “So what’s up? You call for a reason or did you just want to talk?” Ashley asked, a hint of annoyance still in her voice.

  “Yeah actually, I wanted to see if you’ve been paying attention to the news today?” Clay asked as he walked back out to his truck.

  “No, I haven't been watching it. Why? Is there something going on?” Ashley asked, he could hear her shuffling around, probably looking around the living room for the TV remote.

  “Apparently our satellites have spotted increased activity at the nuclear silos in North Korea. The president is set to make an announcement about it tomorrow,” Clay said, in an almost nervous tone.

  “What do you think is going to happen? Should I be worried?” Ashley asked, all annoyance now replaced by an anxious tone.

  “Yeah, we probably need to get to the bunker. They’ve already launched an attack on an entire fleet of our battleships the other day. I need you to go back to the store and get some more rice, beans, noodles, you know, just more of what we already have. Also, I want you to get those 5 gas cans out of the shed and fill them. A tank of gas could mean life or death for our family,” he said as he opened his truck door and climbed inside.

  Ashley sighed, clearly not wanting to go back to the store again.

  “Don't you think you're overreacting? I mean… the president's announcement isn't until tomorrow, right?”

  “Right, but if we wait until tomorrow, and Sharp says we’re going to war, people are going to start panic-buying. Getting out to the stores will be too dangerous with so many people on edge.”

  “Alright babe, I'll get Emma and we will go right now.”

  “Be careful, and make sure you take your .380 with you. Don't take any chances. What they said on the news may have already triggered people.” Clay said as he merged onto the interstate.

  “It's already in my purse. You be safe, and come home to me, I love you.”

  “I will babe, I love you, too. I'll see you guys in the morning.” With that, Clay ended the call. Before he put his phone down he decided to give his brother a call to see if he was going to bug out as well. He scrolled through the contacts in his phone until he got to Hank's name. Tapping the icon to initiate the call, Clay nervously drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. A few rings later, Hank's voice finally came through the speaker,

  “Hey bro, what you up to?” Hank said as he answered the call.

  “Not much man. Just working. Did you watch the news today?” Clay asked, hearing an audible sigh over the phone.

  “Yeah I saw it. Same old shit different day. Let me guess you’re bugging out?” Hank replied in an exhausted tone. He was so tired of doing this with his brother any time he saw a troubling headline.

  Clay had always been a little paranoid, but it seemed like it was only getting worse every year as he watched his daughter get older. Maybe he was just getting older, maybe four deployments had conditioned him to be this way, or maybe the world was actually going to shit. Whatever the reason, every few months for the past five years, Clay found some reason that they needed to bug out immediately and Hank found some reason to blow it off completely.

  “Hell yes, we’re bugging out. They’ve already nuked a fleet of our battleships and now their missile silos are becoming way more active than normal. I’m telling you Hank, this time the shit is going to hit the fan! You need to get your shit together so you guys can meet us at the bunker.” Clay replied. Hank chuckled, and said.

  “Look Clay, I’m not going to do this shit every time you have a little scare from the news. You just need to calm down. They didn’t fire the nukes over here. Hell, that little dipshit damn near nuked his own country when he pulled that particular stunt the other day. Finish your route then head home and sleep on it. I’m sure you’ll feel better about things in the morning.”

  “No, Hank I won’t. That dipshit is already dropping nukes on American troops. Do you really think he isn’t going to start firing them over here the first chance he gets?” Clay fired back. Hank sighed again and gritted his teeth, frustrated with the entire situation.

  “Alright, calm the fuck down, I'll get our shit together and stop on the way to get some extra supplies.”

  “I’m serious, Hank, don't bullshit me this time. We need to get the hell out of Dodge before it's too late.” Clay said.

  “Alright Clay! Damn! I said I’d handle it. I'll text you when we’re on the way.” Hank replied, and then quickly hit the end call icon before Clay could get out another word. Clay looked down at his phone to see if he had lost service but saw that he still had full bars.

  That little bastard hung up on me. Clay thought to himself, placing his phone back in its holder. A few hours later, he was pulling up to his final stop of the night. He took one last drag off of his cigarette and flicked it out the window before climbing down out of the truck. Clay made his way to the rear of the trailer to open the doors,

  Damn, I'm glad this day is almost over, he thought, as he locked the trailer doors open. After backing in, Clay set the air brakes, grabbed his paperwork, and headed inside to see Dub.

  “Where have you been?” Dub asked, as he grinned from ear to ear. Clay stuck his hand out to shake and Dub grabbed it in a vise-like grip with his right hand while patting his shoulder with the left.

  “I got stuck in traffic just outside of Nashville,” Clay said as he watched Dub sign the paperwork for the load he was delivering. Dub nodded several times then said,

  “You hungry? I ordered a pizza for dinner, if you want some?”

  “Nah, I ate earlier, thank you though. Did you see the news?” Clay asked as he lifted the dock door and pushed the button to lock the trailer in place.

  “Yeah, I did, It's about to turn into a real shit-show if you ask me.” Dub replied.

  “I bet ya ten dollars that Sharp says we’re going to war during that announcement tomorrow.” Clay said.

  “I bet you’re right. There’s no way he’s just going to let that attack go unanswered. If he does he’s a damn fool!” Dub explained.

  “We’re bugging out to our bunker as soon as I get home. I have a bad feeling things are going to get real bad around here in the next few days and I don’t want to be caught up in it. What about you? Are you going to hunker down somewhere?” Clay asked as he pulled the dock ramp release and watched the ramp lift up.

  “Yeah, I’m not taking any chances either. My boys and me are going to stay topside to protect the property as long as we can, then we’ll head down for the long haul until this all blows over. If you and your family get to where you can't make it at your place, y’all are welcome to come stay at mine.

  I’ve got plenty of room for everyone.” Dub said as he handed Clay a folded piece of paper with an address written inside. Clay smiled and looked at the paper,

  “Well I’ll be damned. This isn’t very far from my bug out spot. It has to be within a thirty minute drive I’d say.” Clay said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

  “Good. We could use more like-minded people in our area. Not everyone thinks like us” Dub replied tapping the side of his head with one finger.

  "A lot of people are gonna be hungry and desperate. They might come 'round looking for an easy meal."

  "They won't find that where we're at." Clay chuckled, jumping on the dock ramp so it laid flat inside the trailer.

  "Not here either!" Dub agreed, "We gotta stick together, just holler if you need anything."

  “Thanks Dub. You’re a good friend. I extend the same invite to you in case something happens at your place.” Clay said, handing Dub a small piece of paper with the address to his bunker on it. Dub thanked him and shoved the paper in his wallet as he climbed up on the forklift to begin unloading Clay's trailer. Grabbing his paperwork out of the printer, Clay headed for the door.

  “See ya later, buddy!” Dub shouted from inside the trailer.

 
Clay climbed into his truck, leaned back, and lit a cigarette. The truck swayed and bounced as the forklift moved onto the trailer and off again. He took a long deep drag off the Camel as he thought about what the president might say tomorrow during his announcement. Blowing smoke out of his nose, he reached forward and snatched his phone out of its holder and began mindlessly scrolling through his social media account.

  Would everything still be normal tomorrow, or would America descend into chaos and begin ripping apart at the seams? Would missiles drop? Would the country be a nuclear wasteland, or was it all just a hoax, meant to draw attention from some kind of shady midnight regulations? he thought, as he took a look at some of the blog pages he followed.

  The facts were, Clay didn't know anything for certain. All he could do was get his family to the camp and protect them to the best of his abilities. Maybe this would turn out to be a test run to the camp, instead of the real thing. He sure hoped it would be.

  The dock light turned from red to green, pulling Clay from his thoughts. He stuck his phone in its holder, took one last deep pull from his cigarette, and flicked it out the window. He pulled the truck forward and started to hop out to close the trailer doors when a massive ball of fur came flying past his face.

  Clay chuckled, watching Sarge tear-ass across the parking lot, looking for a tree to christen. As he got back to the truck, Sarge came trotting up.

  “After you, princess,” he said, looking down at his dog. Sarge chuffed and jumped back in the truck. Clay laughed.

  “Damn dog is such a drama queen,” he said, climbing in behind him.

  Pulling up to a stoplight, Clay decided to call his wife and check in.

  “Hey babe, everything still ok there?” He asked.

  “Yeah, we just sat down for dinner. I made grilled cheese.” Ashley replied.

  “Grilled cheese sounds pretty good. Anyway I just left my last stop of the night. Were you able to get everything without any trouble?” he asked.