Crowns and Cabals

by Dina Rae

  The whistling of the wind was loud enough to drown our voices as we quietly ran scenarios of the future. I told Raphael he was permanently out of a job, but he already knew. He told me about the politics and connections within the major networks. He spoke without judgment, and I felt as if I had been conned. My understanding of the news had been false for decades.

  Our conversation turned to Aysa. The room was even blacker than the night. I couldn’t see Raphael’s deep brown eyes, but his broken voice gave away his sorrow. Neither of us had time to properly grieve. As he spoke about my sister and their adventures, I wept. She was pregnant with my nephew that I would never meet. Aysa was my sister, my best friend, my mentor, and one of the most important relationships I ever had. I thought of my parents. Oh God! My whole family-gone. No husband or boyfriend to cry over. At the moment, I envied Raphael. He, at least, got to have a moment in time with the love of his life. I hadn’t had a date much less a relationship in over a year.

  “To Aysa. May she rest in peace along with your folks. I’m so sorry, Jaxie,” Raphael said. “They were wonderful. The parents I always wanted.” A long pause passed as we both quietly cried while monitoring the outside world. Suddenly, there was a noise.

  I ran to one side of the living room and Raphael ran to the other. Looking through the peepholes, we both saw two people standing on the front porch. They were fiddling with the front door. Raphael tiptoed out of the room and quickly returned with a knife for me and a gun for him. The two people outside were also quiet. If we weren’t staying up late and watching through the peepholes, neither of us would have heard them. The wind almost drowned out the low hum of the drill they were using.

  I heart rate tripled. I imagined the doorknob twisting as I heard clinking sounds by the door. The knob dropped to the floor and made a dull sound. I squinted. A white hand stuck through the door knob hole and felt around for the deadbolt. He or she found it. With a quick click, the door cracked open. I could barely see.

  “Shhh.” He crouched by the opening of the door and waited for it to open all of the way.

  Both of the intruders entered. Raphael kicked one of them in the groin area. I heard a loud cry of pain in a male voice. He grabbed the other intruder around the neck and pointed his gun at the intruder’s head.

  “Your friend gets one in the head right now if you try something funny. Jaxie, turn on the light.”

  Both intruders were young men dressed in dark clothing, one white and one black, somewhere between high school and young adult. I suspected they were part of the gang from the night before. Raphael motioned with the gun for both of the boys to sit down on the couch.

  Raphael said, “You two from last night?” They nodded. “How old are you?”

  The white boy said, “I’m seventeen. He’s eighteen. We…”

  “I’ll ask the questions. Understand? You two just tried to rob me so I’m not really in a good mood. I should hand you over to the Peacekeepers. You see what they did to your friends? Are you crazy? And why this house? We are the only ones who bothered to board everything up.”

  The white boy answered. “We’re not crazy, alright? Those soldiers are the crazy ones. Look, we are the ones they arrested last night. And yes, we saw our friends get their heads blown off. We’re fucking scared out of our minds. They told us to break in and look for weapons. They think you have a gun because you boarded up your house. And they want it. They are taking everyone’s weapons. Please, please, just let us go and we will tell them we cased the whole place and found nothing. We will tell them we threatened you and the Mrs. and still found nothing.”

  We all heard a car motor in the distance. The black boy finally spoke. “Shit! It’s too late. That’s them. They’ll kill us! Let us out the back now!”

  The boys jumped from the couch as the sound of footsteps got louder. I looked through the peephole and saw two Peacekeepers and a truck parked outside. A second later, they busted through the door. Raphael crouched behind the side table in the corner of the room.

  The two soldiers screamed, “Hands up! Hands up!” The two boys followed their instructions. They were cuffed immediately.

  The black boy cried, “But you told us to…” One of the soldiers blew a hole in his chest. He dropped to the floor. Blood puddled everywhere. I screamed. The knife Raphael gave me was still in my hand. I lunged toward the soldier. He looked too surprise to react. Then I heard two shots come from the other side of the room. Raphael killed both of the soldiers with the gun they wanted so badly. Three dead bodies and gallons of blood oozed all over the wood floor.

  “Get out of here, now!” Raphael yelled at the teen.

  “You…you saved my life! Listen, I will go. But you got to go too. These guys are insane. Let me help you get rid of this mess. We can…We can put them all in the truck and dump them somewhere, before anyone else in their little death squad even knows they are gone.”

  “You’re a pretty smart kid for a burglar, but no. Get out. You’ve caused enough problems. I’ll clean up this mess.”

  “Raphael, he’s right! Wait.” I raced to the garage and brought back three tarps used from a past painting project. “Roll them up in these!”

  Raphael shook his head, but the kid wouldn’t listen. He began rolling up one of the soldiers, stripping him of all ammunition and his machine gun. “Listen, Mister, you don’t understand. These guys are sadistic! I know you saw what happened last night! You don’t have time to play tough guy. I’m not taking no for an answer. You saved my life and now I owe you. That’s how me and my brothers roll. This man here is, I mean, was Will Adams. He was a good guy. I know you think we are a bunch of punks looking to steal…”

  “Okay! You don’t need to explain yourself! Sorry about Will. What about you? You name?”

  “My name is Brick. Brick Theriault.”

  “I’m Raphael. Too bad we couldn’t have met under better circumstances. Brick, I must admit that I really like your plan.”

  We rolled up the three bodies. I grabbed some old blankets and sopped up the puddles of blood. Raphael stuffed the blankets in with the tarps. I found the soldiers keys and backed the truck into my garage. With the garage door closed, the three of us carried each of the bodies and laid them in the truck’s flatbed. I filled a bucket up with Pine Sol and water and mopped up the mess. The water needed to be changed three times. The boy and Raphael kept fetching clean water from the utility sink.

  “Brick, I don’t think you’re a punk,” Raphael said as he scrubbed my throw rug underneath the coffee table. “Jax, this ain’t coming out. Here, throw it in the back of the truck with bodies.” As I stepped out of the room, I heard Raphael open up to the boy and couldn’t help but think what a wonderful father he could have been.

  “Brick, you’re just scared, like me and Jaxie. We both robbed the grocery store just a few days ago. But I stole plenty more than food. Back in the day, I would have probably picked your and Will’s pockets clean.” The boy looked at him with admiration. “You and your friends were just surviving. You got parents?”

  Brick nodded as he wiped down all of the furniture with the basket of cleaners I pulled out from under the sink. “Yeah. I guess I am lucky. My mom is dead, but she died a long time ago. My Dad lives in one of those houses in the back of this subdivision. Will’s mom is also around here. How am I going to tell her?”

  “You’ll figure it out. You don’t have to do it right away, but she needs to know. I don’t live here, so I think it’s time for me to leave. I don’t want to bring problems to this neighborhood. Jaxie is not my wife. She’s my sister-in-law. My wife is dead. Brick, I appreciate everything you have done, but you need to keep a low profile.”

  “Don’t worry. Those soldiers never got my name, so I think it might be safe for now to go. So where are you headed?”

  “Don’t ask, kid. But some place far. You know a place I can dump our friends off?”

  The boy couldn’t fight the tears anymore. “The Charles River is pretty clo
se. Let me go with you. There’s a spot where Will and I and a few of the others would go to get high. Sorry to tell you that, but it’s the perfect spot. You can then drop me off, ditch the truck and go.”

  “And you’ll tail me in my car?”

  Brick nodded. Raphael and I looked at each other and smiled. Brick was indeed a very resourceful boy. I took a mental note at the time, knowing our paths would somehow cross again.

  Raphael and I hugged. I even gave Brick a hug. Despite all the trouble he came with, I believed him.

  Chapter Eight

  Raphael

  I drove the soldier’s truck, and Brick followed me in my Toyota as we edged out of the neighborhood. The truck engine roared, but the thrashing wind worked wonders in covering up the sound. I prayed that another truck full of soldiers did not see us. A radio in between the front seats hummed with excitement. So far, so good. The other Peacekeepers were too busy hunting for guns in other parts of the city. The informal and familiar way they spoke to each other sent chills through my spine. How long had they been working together?

  Brick took the lead and led me down a series of private roads. We parked by the river bank. Neither of us said a word. I sensed he was deep in thought, probably contemplating on how he would break it to Will’s family.

  “This the spot?” I asked.

  “For the most part. See the walking path over there?” I nodded even though I could barely see anything without the car’s headlights. “There’s a bunch of large rocks on the sides of the path. We can use them for weights.”

  Silently, Brick and I unloaded the corpses from the truck in the dark, frigidly cold night. I made a point of weighing down Will’s body with the stones. Brick played it tough as he tied up rocks to the soldiers’ bodies. Finally, I asked, “Did the soldiers know who Will was?”

  “No. We never gave them our names and they never asked. I thought they were using us as bait to find weapons. And if we got shot by someone in the process, then they knew where to look. They probably would have shot us in the end anyway, just like they shot Maggie and Luis.”

  “I saw that, and I am sorry. They will be looking for the others. You need to get the word out that you all are no longer safe. Okay?” Brick nodded. He and I quietly plopped the bodies into the river. Chunks of ice battered against them as they sank. It would be a while until they were found. We left the truck on the shoulder of the highway. I dropped Brick off on the outskirts of Jaxie’s subdivision. Before he got out of the car, I handed him one of the soldier’s machine guns and kept the other.

  “Be safe, Brick. Hope we meet again. Keep in touch with Jaxie if you can. You know where she lives.”

  “I will. Thanks for saving me. May these fuckers fry in hell. I mean that, Raphael. May they fry.”

  I drove off, heading west, and thought about Brick. He reminded me of my grandfather-tough, brave, and willing to get his hands dirty if needed. I thought he’d make one hell of a general.

  I didn’t know when I would see Jaxie again. I left her my gun and showed her where to hide it. She needed to keep a level head around the Peacekeepers. I didn’t want to get into it, but she needed both eyes wide open when it came to Fogle. As my grandfather once told me, corporations would soon rule the earth. Fogle was in a prime position for the throne.

  It took me almost two days of nonstop driving to get to Oklahoma. Many major highways were closed, always forcing me to change my route. Most of the roads were wide open without traffic. I didn’t pass too many charging stations, but when I did, I played it safe and kept my battery fully charged.

  Arkansas was practically abandoned. I only passed four other cars while driving through the state. The roads were blocked and barricaded every few miles, causing me to drive off course. My estimated drive doubled in time.

  By the gray and grim sunrise of the second day of my road trip, I finally pulled into my grandfather’s farm. I drove past the dirt road three times before I remembered how to enter the large parcel of property. It had been many years since I visited. The dirt road ran for two miles until I hit my grandfather’s home which was now my home. I must have stopped four or five times to pull away debris. Once I hit the house, I frowned in frustration. Overgrown weeds and bushes blocked the door. I stepped into the adjacent shed and found a hacksaw. Within a half an hour I cut my way to the entrance.

  The home was a double-wide trailer affixed to a foundation that he and I poured when I was in middle school. He took me to his off-the-grid hideout several times throughout my youth and taught me the importance of old-fashioned survival. I wished I remembered his lessons. Maybe it would come back to me.

  I wanted to pull my car into the garage, but that would be quite a workout. One side of the metal roof was dented from a large tree that had fallen on top of it. Grass, weeds, and bushes that were taller than my six and a half foot frame surrounded the building. I thought of cleaning it up tomorrow. At that moment all I wanted was sleep. I needed working generators that could somehow recharge my car.

  The locked front door posed a challenge. The key sat on a hook in my New York brownstone that was turned to ash. I sat on top of a bush that grew through the trailer’s outdoor deck and took a moment to think of my cushy, comfortable life in New York. Gone, just like my wife.

  Gary from the station called me the day I left for Jaxie’s house. Most of my beloved colleagues never left New York after his warning. They believed the threat wasn’t real. The body counts were yet to be announced, but no one from the station ever called me back. Gary’s phone was currently out of service. He said he was leaving the city, but something bad could have happened during his journey. My colleagues were my friends, in fact, the only friends Aysa and I had. My losses finally hit me head on. For several minutes, maybe longer, I sat on the deck, shivered from the icy winds, and wept. I needed sleep. I needed to get inside of the trailer.

  My body ached, but I forced myself up and routed around the trailer, looking under mats and planters found deep within the uncut grass for an extra key. A rusty barbeque knocked on its side laid a few yards away. Then I recalled the magnet box that held the trailer’s key. I was inside.

  The worn, rundown décor had been ravaged by critters. Another project for another day. I had to sleep. I looked into my grandfather’s cupboards and found a six pack of Coke. The soda had to be at least ten years old, but tasted like honey and natural spring water from heaven. After guzzling two cans, I rolled up my sleeves and looked for holes within the trailer. There were a few large ones that I quickly sealed up with some expanding foam left on the counter. The critters must have been an ongoing problem. After opening a few cabinets, I soon found several packages of traps. Another project to add to the to-do list.

  I set out the traps around the house and finally laid down on the ripped up couch, too tired to care if it was infested with mice. My eyes closed and I fell deep into slumber.

  The next few days I worked from dusk to dawn getting the trailer and property back into a habitable state. There were several cans of soup, spaghetti, fruit, and tuna. Despite the expiration dates, the food still kept. I feared getting more once it was gone. If Peacekeepers were in Massachusetts, then they had to be on their way to Oklahoma. They might already be in the major cities setting up shop.

  I eventually gained entry into the garage. My memory came back instantaneously. Generators, cables, battery chargers, and fuel lined the garage’s walls. Thank you, Gramps! My energy problem was temporarily solved.

  I cased the property, remembering there was much more than a trailer, shed, and garage. Stakes outlined acres of overgrown forest. Boundary line? I followed the stakes’ perimeter and eventually found a shack. When I was in college, my grandfather intended to build an underground tunnel. Was it here? I matted down the four foot grass and grabbed the door’s handle. Inside was a dirt floor. Dead end? The tiny building was jogging too many neurons. I got on my knees and clawed at the dirt.

  A hinged wooden square appeared from under the
dirt covering. I opened it up and found a set of stairs. The stairwell was encased in concrete. Once again, George spoke to me from the grave. A ledge next to the wall of the first step held a collection of flashlights. The first one I picked up held a charge. I descended into the earth, excited to see what George had built.

  At the bottom of the stairs was a tunnel. The dim flashlight made the passage look like a black hole. Fifty feet from the bottom stair I hit a wall. To my right, the tunnel continued for a couple of feet. There were a few steps I would have missed if I hadn’t had a flashlight. Sunken into the ground, was a large chamber roughly the size of a two car garage.

  One wall was framed out with wood, like a large built-in bookcase. Each shelf held dozens of cans of food. I estimated the inventory could easily feed one man for a couple of years. On the top shelves were dozens of bottles of booze. A bottle of anything would surely hit the spot. Keeping myself busy was keeping me alive, but depression set in. Thoughts of suicide filled my head as I rummaged through the jackpot of supplies I had found. Why wasn’t I grateful and relieved?

  On the opposite wall were rifles, pistols, machine guns, hand grenades, ammunition, vials, and equipment I wasn’t even familiar with. I was in awe of George at that moment. Collapsing to the floor, I rolled into a ball and cried. I could check out right now. A small pistol with a box of bullets laid innocently on the bottom shelf. As if the devil was calling my name, I loaded the gun and put the barrel into my mouth. That’s how you did it, George. When you knew there was no hope. But I wasn’t an old man who was about to die. This would not be a compassionate suicide. My grandfather sacrificed everything for me, and this was how I would repay him? Killing myself in a live-saving tunnel filled with every need? No, not today. The voice inside of my head ceased.