Dark Days (Book 1): The Collapse
Page 2
“Yeah, for the most part. There was this one guy running through the grocery store butt-naked, screaming about aliens probing him, but other than that, it was a pretty normal shopping trip.”
“What? Aliens probing him? Please tell me you covered Emma's eyes.” Clay said, with a confused tone in his voice. Ashley chuckled,
“I'm just messing with you, babe.” Clay laughed,
“Good one. You had me going for a second there.” All of a sudden he could hear Emma crying in the background.
“What happened? Is she ok?” Clay asked, panic dripping from his words.
“Calm down babe she’s fine, she just tripped over the rug and bumped her head. I better go and calm her down.”
“Alright, babe. Well, tell her I love her and kiss her boo-boo for me. I'll be home in the morning. I love you, Ash.”
“I love you, too Clay, be careful and we’ll see you when you get home.” She replied. Clay tapped the end call icon and stuck the phone back in its holder. Minutes later, his phone lit up again.
Must be Ashley again, he thought, as he scratched Sarge behind his ears. He grabbed the phone and unlocked it to see an alert flashing.
Warning: Incoming intercontinental ballistic missile threat, take cover immediately!
Oh shit, it's happening, that little Korean bastard actually did it! He thought as he started looking for a place to pull the truck over on the small two-lane road. He definitely did not want to be rolling down the road if the bombs hit in this area. A few minutes later he spotted what looked like an electric substation and started to downshift so he could park the large truck off the road before the EMP hit. His thoughts went to Ashley and Emma as he slowed the truck down.
How in the fuck am I going to protect my family when I’m stuck down here with no way back? He thought as he started turning the truck into the substation.
His thoughts were interrupted by sparks and popping sounds coming from the substation along with his dash lights flickering out and his phone screen going black. The truck rolled to a stop and he set the air brakes as he watched the night light up from the sparks flying off the substation lines.
Was this really happening right now? He thought as anger began to creep up his spine.
“Did this shit really just happen?” Clay shouted as he started to slam his fist into the dash. Sarge looked at him and twisted his head from side to side, like he was trying to understand what his human was doing. Clay took several deep breaths to calm himself down and then grabbed a cigarette. He took a deep hit of the Camel and looked out of the window and stared at the now pitch black landscape.
He hadn’t seen such darkness since his last trip to Iraq. Clay started to wonder where the bomb had gone off and how many people were killed in the blast but then it hit him,
“It couldn't have detonated on the ground, cause we're not dead.” he said as he scratched Sarge’s ears.
“Had to be a high altitude blast which makes sense, seeing as the truck is dead and so is my phone.” He thought as he gazed at the dark sky trying to control his anger.
“FUCK!” Clay screamed, startling Sarge and causing him to let out a barely audible growl.
“Sorry, buddy,” Clay said as gave Sarge another quick scratch.
“We're too far from the house to walk. That would take entirely too long.” Clay said as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. Sarge lifted his head from the seat as Clay began talking again.
“We could be at Hank’s in an hour if the truck wasn’t ruined. That same trip on foot will take all damn night, but what choice do we have?” Sarge chuffed and peered through the dark window watching for any threats.
“We can’t just stay here though. Guess we’re hoofing it.” Clay stated as he got to his feet and scratched Sarge behind his ears once more.
“Calm down bud. Ain’t nothing out there we can’t handle.” Clay said, stepping back to the sleeper. Sarge let out a small growl and the window fogged up from the hot breath exiting his snout. Clay just shook his head at the overly-dramatic pup and folded down the top bunk.
He removed part of the mattress to reveal a black rectangular-shaped pelican case. Clay had bolted the case to the top bunk and cut a section of the mattress out so it would slide over the top of the case, hiding it from anyone that might come looking. He snapped open the two latches that held it closed and lifted up the lid. Inside was a plate carrying vest, an AR-15 with 6 extra mags, two one hundred round boxes of 5.56 ammo, 4 spare mags for his pistol, 2 extra boxes of ammo, a sheathed KBAR, and a suppressor for the rifle. Clay strapped the vest in place and loaded the pockets on it down with everything else. He slung the single point sling over his head and shoulder allowing the rifle to hang down directly on his chest for quick-draw access. He quickly shoved a mag in and pulled back on the charging handle to chamber a round before doing the same with his pistol.
He opened the storage cabinet and grabbed his get-home bag and then flung the passenger side door open and jumped down to the pavement. He was ready for anything, ready for war if the situation called for it. He let out a soft whistle and Sarge jumped down behind him. Looking down at his furry-faced friend, Clay said,
“Are you ready?” Sarge chuffed in response.
“I'll take that as a yes. Let's move.”
*****
After a few hours of walking they came upon a convenience store. As they approached, Clay heard a loud smack, followed by a bloodcurdling scream. He dropped down to one knee behind an abandoned car, aiming his rifle in the direction of the scream. He could just barely make out the outline of a single person through the front window.
He slowly crept out from behind the car and made his way to the side of the store, he could clearly hear a woman sobbing.
Clay's steps were slow and deliberate as he crept to the door’s edge, not making a sound. He could hear heavy breathing originating from somewhere inside.
Stealing a quick glance, he could see a man standing over a naked woman undoing his pants. She was lying on the floor, her hands and feet bound with duct tape. Clay could see where this was going, and he knew he had to stop it.
He stepped through the doorway as quietly as he could and let out a soft whistle.
Startled, the man quickly tried to spin around but his pants were halfway down, causing him to lose his footing. Clay fired a round into the man, who let out a guttural scream as the bullet tore through his kneecap.
He kept his gun trained on the man as he stepped over to the woman. Pulling his blade from the sheath on his belt, he cut the woman's hands free and handed her the knife so she could finish cutting the restraints from her legs.
The woman looked up from the floor, her bright green eyes briefly meeting Clay's. He quickly turned away from the naked woman, attempting to offer at least a modicum of privacy
“Ma'am, are you alright?” Clay called behind him, keeping his gaze fixed on a few bags of chips that sat on the shelf in front of him.
"Ma'am…" he started, before almost being knocked from his feet as the woman shoved past him toward the writhing man on the floor. She dropped down on top of him, sinking the blade deep into his chest over and over, piercing his heart repeatedly. Clay grabbed the sobbing, blood-soaked woman and pulled her off of the would-be rapist.
“It's gonna be ok, he's dead. He won't hurt anyone else,” Clay said as he removed a flannel from his pack and handed it to her, so she could cover her naked body. The woman dropped the knife and wrapped the shirt around herself.
“Thank you, You saved my life.” she said as a sob escaped her lips. Clay knelt down and picked up the knife, wiping the blood off on the dead man's pants.
“What's your name?” he asked quietly, before standing and sheathing the blade. The woman stared blankly out of the window.
“My name is Tanya,” she said, turning to look at him. “Who are you?”
“Nice to meet you, Tanya, My name is Clay,” he said, forcing a smile as he stuck out his hand, not surprisi
ngly Tanya just stared at the offered hand,
“How did you end up in this mess?” He asked as she finally took his hand.
Tanya stood and walked toward the counter, to retrieve a backpack lying on the floor. Reaching inside, she pulled out a bottle of water and started rinsing the blood from her face and hands as she recounted what had happened.
"I was on my way to my Grandma Betty's house up in Tennessee when my car died. I spotted this shithole and came in to look for some water and supplies, the next thing I know this guy grabs me and slams me to the ground. I guess it knocked me out because I woke up to that bastard slapping me in the face.”
Clay listened to her story in disbelief. It had barely been six hours since the power went out and people were already out of control.
He didn't know what would happen during the next six, but he didn't like the thought of his wife and baby girl having to deal with it alone. She finished cleaning the blood from her face and grabbed a pile of clothes from the floor. Clay turned, facing the door as she tossed the flannel back to him and started putting her own clothes back on. When she was finished he turned back around.
“Are you sure you’re ok?” he said, as he helped find her weapons.
“Yeah, just banged up a little, I'll be fine. It's not the first time I've dealt with assholes like him,” she said, spitting in the dead man’s face. Clay turned and started walking toward the door.
“You’re welcome to come with us,” he said, motioning to Sarge, and then himself.
“Thanks, but no thanks, I appreciate your help, but I have a family waiting for me.” Tanya said as she shouldered her pack and followed Clay to the door.
“Well, you be safe out there and keep your eyes peeled for shitbags like him,” he said, thumbing toward the dead man in the store.
“Thanks again!” Tanya yelled as she turned the corner and disappeared.
“That's one tough broad!” Clay said as he leaned down to scratch Sarge behind his ears. Sarge chuffed almost as if in agreement as they turned and headed down the street.
A few hours later they finally started seeing the outskirts of the city. Clay knew they were getting close. He started recognizing the street signs around Hank's town. Clay and Sarge made the turn onto Hank's road and slowly made their way down the street.
It was early morning, and Clay wanted to make it to Hank's before anyone spotted him. As they approached the house, he told Sarge to stay back. Clay made his way up the steps and tried the door. Locked, damn it. Clay cursed as he turned to go back down the steps. Before he could take a step he heard the door fly open. The barrel of a pistol was suddenly pressing into the back of his skull as a man spoke.
“Don't you fucking move.”
chapter 2
“Hi Daddy!” Hank Mitchell woke much like he did every other day. With Toby, his 2 year old son, hovering just an inch from his face.
“Hi Daddy!” He repeated. He looked over to see the boy grin.
“Hey buddy,” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looking at his phone for the time,
“7:45, I suppose you want some breakfast huh?” he said, pulling on a clean shirt and heading for the kitchen.
"How about cereal?" he asked, already pouring it into the boy’s favorite green bowl,
"I guess you want breakfast too?" he said noticing Bella, a giant grey mastiff round the corner and plod into the kitchen.
"Alright," he said pouring some food into her bowl,
"Enjoy guys!"
After giving Toby and Bella breakfast, he stepped out onto the front porch. The warm sun was just peeking over the horizon, a sweet relief from the long winter and a signal that it was almost over.
"Spring is almost here." he said to himself, lighting a cigarette and pulling out his phone. Mindlessly scrolling through his emails as he took a hit, a familiar ding filled his ears. Opening a text from his brother he read
Clay: Have you seen everything on the news lately?
Taking another hit and exhaling slowly before replying
Hank: Some of it. I'm sure it's all nothing. The reply came as he expected it would
Clay: I don't know, I think something's gonna happen.
Hank chuckled to himself as he hit reply
Hank: You always think something's going to happen man, something never does.
He took one last hit and flicked his cigarette, it bounced, rolled and settled in the middle of the street, then he pressed send. After cleaning up breakfast, Hank sat down at his computer, for another long day of staring at the screen. He knew nothing was going to happen, nothing ever did.
"3:59..." Hank stated out loud to exactly no one, counting down the minutes until 4:00.
"...And 4 o’clock on the dot, done for the day!" he said, closing his laptop and standing from the brown leather chair, where he had been seated for the last eight hours. With a quick stretch of his back he left his office, closing the door behind him.
In the living room he found his wife seated with her legs crossed on the blue sectional sofa and looking intently at the TV.
"Whatcha watchin?" She shushed him
"It's the news, I want to hear this." On the screen, a middle aged, dark haired man with a thick moustache spoke from behind a large wooden desk
"An announcement from the President is set for midday tomorrow as negotiations regarding North Korea's nuclear program take an unexpected turn...” Hank quickly shut the TV off, ignoring protests from his wife.
"North Korea, nuclear program, negotiations, sanctions" he said, balling his right hand into a loose fist and pumping it up and down a few times as he continued,
"Who cares, it's a beautiful day out. How about some fresh air? Let's get out and take a walk!" She ignored him switching the TV back on as the man continued to drone on,
“-satellite images show increased activity at nuclear facilities across North Korea. Recent attempts by officials in Washington D.C. to contact Pyongyang have been unsuccessful, and as a result of the battleship attacks the military has been placed on high alert. We'll keep you updated as new information comes in." Looking alarmed she asked, "Should we be concerned?"
"Nah, they pull this shit over and over again, same old story. Now how about that walk?" Unconvinced by his response she pressed on.
"They don't put the military on high alert for no reason, Hank." Sensing that she was truly concerned he tried to comfort her.
"Look, we have our emergency kits packed. Clay and I have a spot, we've got some food and supplies, everything we need to ride it out for a few months." He continued, "if, and this is a really big if, something happens we'll drive over and meet them, we'll all hang out until it passes. It'll be like a vacation! We have nothing to worry about." Still not convinced, she finally relented.
"Okay, can we just stay alert? This could be serious." He nodded,
"As you wish, now can we please just get out of this house for a while?"
Today was the first decent weather of the year and Hank had no intention of wasting any more of it stuck inside. He strapped Toby into the stroller, attached the leash to Bella's harness and called out to let his wife know that they were ready.
The family set off on their walk. They weren't the only ones taking advantage of the lovely day. They walked in silence taking in the neighborhood. Hank looked to see his neighbor Eddie on a ladder, he pulled a handful of brown muck from the gutter and dropped it into a bag that was attached to his waist. He paused, noticing the family walking and turned to address them
“Beautiful day, eh Hank!” he said waving his gloved hand at them.
“Beautiful indeed!” Hank called back. He never really liked Eddie, though he could never quite explain why. Eddie was a good neighbor, friendly enough, too friendly Hank always thought.
A few houses down they passed a few neighborhood kids kicking a soccer ball back and forth on a well-manicured front lawn. Hank noticed a woman, probably in her late twenties jogging toward them. She was wearing tight black
running shorts and a matching top that must have been a size too small. Admiring her as she drew closer, her long blonde ponytail swaying with each step, he wondered to himself if he could take a glance back after she passed without his wife noticing. Deciding it wasn't worth the risk, he took in one more look and continued on in silence. After a few minutes the silence was broken by Karen
"Are you sure we shouldn’t be concerned?" Hank, having dismissed the news report the second he heard it responded
"Hmm? Concerned about what? You still thinking about that North Korea stuff?"
"How could you not be? I just don't want to be caught with our pants down. If anything happens. This could be really bad Hank. I mean they already dropped bombs on an entire fleet of our battleships." Hank stopped walking and turned to Karen
"I told you earlier. Clay and I, we have a plan. We've spent the past couple years getting it all ready in the event something like this happened, if anything ever happens we're going to meet at our spot, we're going to stay together and we're going to ride this out. We've got food, we've got water, we've got protection." he paused to pat the 40 caliber pistol holstered at his side
"I never leave home without it. We won't let anything happen to you guys. I told you we have nothing to worry about." Rolling her eyes she nudged his arm
"Okay tough guy, let's go then." After walking for a few moments, Hank spoke again,
“Clay is pretty worried about all this too. We spoke earlier and he made me promise that we were going to bug out with him.”
“Tonight?” Karen asked incredulously.
“Yes” Hank continued as he pushed the stroller, “like right now. I told him that we would.”
“Why would you tell him that? We can't just pack up the baby and leave at the drop of a hat!” she exclaimed.
“We aren't going anywhere,” he said with a roll of his eyes, “you know how Clay gets. He'll get some rest and come to his senses.”
By the time they returned home the sun was beginning to set, the orange and yellow rays disappearing over the horizon. Hank entered the house pushing his son, who at this point had fallen asleep, and unleashed his exhausted pup. He unstrapped the sleeping toddler and picked him up as carefully as he could. Hank knew that if he woke his son, he’d be sleeping in the bed with them again. He tiptoed to Toby's room still holding the sleeping boy, then quickly and quietly placed him on his bed before flipping on the nightlight and slowly backing out of the room. Hank congratulated himself for another successful mission, and made his way to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water, making a mental note that a trip to the grocery store was in his future. He grabbed a bottle of water and closed the bare fridge. He unscrewed the cap, and leaned back against the granite countertop and took a sip. The sound he heard next could best be described as an ear splitting wail being repeated from his phone, startling him and causing him to spill the contents of the bottle. He gasped as the ice cold water dripped down his chin splashing the front of his shirt and landing on the white tile floor in front of him.