by Bowman, Dave
He had been taught by a true master, of course. Guy by the name of Wolf. A buddy he'd met in prison, who had taken him under his wing while Oscar was doing a year for drug possession. Taught him everything he knew, just by description alone. The guy was in for life, and he didn't want his knowledge to die with him. And he picked Oscar as the lucky recipient of his secrets.
Wolf had also taught Oscar how to never make his own mistake – the one that got him incarcerated.
Once Oscar was released, he knew what he had to do to never get thrown back in jail.
And it worked. He'd never gotten caught. He figured he'd stolen millions of dollars' worth over the years.
But he still lived in squalor. The money always seemed to evaporate, to slip through Oscar's fingers. It was lost, or gambled away. And most of all, it was shot up into Oscar's veins, over and over. Because Oscar had never learned to kick the nasty little heroin habit he'd picked up long ago.
But now, things were different. Now, maybe he could kick the habit for good. He'd found something that made him even higher than smack.
He'd started taking over the city.
He found his opening right away, the moment the power went out.
His mentor had taught him about this, too.
Wolf had talked about The End, as he called it. He had said that someday, the grid would collapse. And civilization would come down with it. That was when a person with the right skills could really make a killing.
Oscar had listened as his buddy told him his plans for taking over the city, block by block. Without computers, phones, and radio, the cops would be at a big disadvantage. And the city would be ripe for the picking.
Oscar had never believed he'd see the day. But on Wednesday, the impossible had happened.
Suddenly, the world was his oyster. No more electronic security systems he had to work at and study to crack. Not even backup generator power. And everyone was stranded. People used to zipping around in their vehicles were suddenly forced to walk. And most people were out of shape. Oscar was twenty-eight and, despite his drug use, in pretty good shape. He had an advantage, and he made use of it.
It didn't take long to discover that there were a few cars that still ran.
Oscar was in the middle of a hit on a house in the Heights, the wealthiest part of town, when the EMP hit. He was made aware that all the lights had gone out in the neighborhood.
He looked out the window – all the cars had stopped, too!
But as he watched the chaos breaking out in the street, he saw a strange sight. A 1973 Mustang roared down the road.
The gears started working in his mind.
And it just so happened that the mansion he was working on at the moment had a 1950s car in its garage. It was one of those big old Cadillacs people liked to drive around in parades. He found the keys, and sure enough, it ran.
He drove that Cadillac out of there, along with a nice selection of rifles and pistols he'd found in the house he'd been working on. He felt so good driving down that street past all the stranded people fighting about their dead cars.
Oscar headed right toward the south side of town. He picked up his buddies Dox, Nathan, Martin, and Anthony.
Then the five of them started to take over the Heights.
They worked house by house, killing most everyone in the houses and sending the rest running for their lives.
Dox and Nathan went back to the south side to pick up some more friends, and they armed them, too. Soon, the group was twelve strong. They held every house on Riverside Drive from the river to the interstate almost immediately. They had a few working cars, and a small arsenal of weapons.
But then, the bomb went off.
It was a loud explosion from downtown. It was so intense that they felt the earth tremble. They watched from the safety of a third-story window in one of the houses as a mushroom cloud rose over downtown.
They could see already that the center of the city had been destroyed.
The men celebrated. That meant the city was in ashes. That was even more of an opening for them to take over the town.
They drank champagne and wine straight from bottles as they watched the chaos and discussed their plans.
“I figure we'll finish up Riverside tonight,” Oscar said after a sip of bubbly. “Then we can work our way east toward Olympia Street and Red River.”
Nathan laughed. “That river's sure going to be red by the time we're through.”
The others laughed. But Oscar shook his head.
“No. We can't keep killing everyone,” he explained. “We've got to start building an army.”
“That's what we have here,” Martin said, gesturing to the men standing around the room. They responded with cheers and guffaws.
“Yeah, we don't need to be getting outsiders involved,” Nathan said. “Let's just keep it to us south side boys.”
“We're going to need more guys soon,” Oscar said. “I'm thinking big. Like the whole city.”
“All of White Rock?” Anthony asked, frowning.
“Yeah, why not?” Oscar asked. “And if we're going to take over the whole city, we're going to need a bigger crew. A lot bigger.”
Someone guffawed. “Man, forget all that. Let's just stay here in the Heights. No one will bother us now that downtown's been blown up.”
“Yeah, everyone's gonna keep to themselves now, just try to survive after all that down there,” Martin said, pointing to the destruction outside.
“You guys aren't thinking big enough,” Oscar insisted, setting his bottle of champagne down on the hardwood floor. “Look out there. This isn't some little power failure. This country is being attacked. We've got to capitalize on it.”
Dox finally said something. “What exactly are you thinking, O?”
“First, we've got to get a lot more weapons, ammo, and cars,” Oscar said. “Then we can start taking over the businesses, not just the homes. We've gotta control the food supply, the water, everything. And none of you idiots know how to run shit, so we'll need people who do know. We've gotta have people who know how to farm, build stuff, design, all that crap.”
Nathan laughed. “We're gonna have farmers working for us now?”
Oscar nodded. “They either work for us or they die.”
Everyone was silent for a minute, thinking it over.
“Dude, that's some crazy talk right there,” Anthony said, breaking the quiet. “You're talking about us becoming kings of the city or something.”
“Yeah,” Oscar said, grinning. “Now you're getting it.”
The guys looked around at each other.
“I'm in,” Dox said.
“Me, too.”
“Let's do it,” Martin said, breaking out in laughter along with the others. The booze had already gone to their heads.
“Okay, good,” Oscar said, looking out the window. “But we've got to move fast. Like now. Can't waste any time.”
“So, Olympia Street, right?” Nathan said, taking a swig of wine. “I can start over there with Ryan and Steve. We'll take the Dodge truck.”
“Right. And you guys take the Blazer and go with them.” Oscar pointed to the Thomason brothers. “The rest of us, we'll hit Red River with the other vehicles.”
The guys nodded and everyone started to load their weapons. Most of them carried a rifle and one or two sidearms.
“Someone needs to hang back around here,” Dox said, stepping out of the way of the other men as they moved through the room, getting organized. “This house is the headquarters, right?”
Oscar nodded. “Yeah. You can stay here and guard all our stuff, Dox. And I need you to keep an eye on the street below. I don't want any of these neighbors getting any ideas and thinking they can fight back or something. Mark, you stay behind too. I need a couple of you on the street down there. There will probably be some stragglers who live on this street coming home the next few hours. I'll need you guys to get rid of them.”
Mark and Dox nodded and gathe
red their weapons.
In that first day, everything went according to plan. They worked their way through two more streets in the ritzy neighborhood.
They were drunk on power as they slowly expanded their territory the next two days. They took over the Heights and moved on to a few more neighborhoods and residential areas. There were a lot of casualties. Not many people wanted to join them. But a few did, especially when having to choose between joining them or death.
Unfortunately, Oscar's team had suffered a few casualties as well. Anthony and Martin had both been shot to death when they were taking over a convenience store. And one of the other guys was stabbed by some lady defending her house.
Oscar regretted the losses, but that's how war was.
And anyway, their overall numbers were growing.
Some of the new people were even turning out to be loyal members. Oscar only gave weapons to people he trusted. The new guys had to prove themselves. Once they showed themselves to be loyal, Oscar would let them carry a gun. But until then, he had them working. Cooking, cleaning, organizing the stores of food, and setting up systems for water supplies and sanitation. These worker bees, as he called them, were always guarded by armed members of the team he could trust.
And Oscar was at the top of everyone. Everyone had to answer to him.
It was a lot to manage, and he slowly began to give more responsibility to Dox. He had known Dox for a while, and he trusted him. And now since the attack, Dox was really stepping up to the plate. Oscar came to see him as his right-hand man.
Yes, Oscar was filled with pride at what he had created. And in just three days! He could only imagine what his territory would be in a month. In a year! Maybe the whole state. Maybe the whole country!The sky was the limit.
There was just one small problem.
Oscar had been poisoned by radiation.
The first thing he had noticed was his normally fair, ruddy skin taking on a gray tinge.
At first, he thought he was just a little under the weather. He was feeling a little strange, too. His joints were aching, and his stomach wasn't feeling too good.
Then his eyes started looking weird. The pupils were all dilated, and the whites were bloodshot. He thought he was going through withdrawal from the drugs, since he hadn't had as much time to use lately.
But even after shooting up, he felt bad. In fact, it made him worse.
Some of the other guys were looking a little off, as well. Especially the guys who had gone with him to Red River that first day. No one looked as bad as Oscar, though, for some reason.
And that's when Oscar started to put it together.
Radiation poisoning.
Oscar had been out on the streets more than anyone that first day. And he had gone closest to downtown. He had been in and out of houses, and running around the city picking up more of their friends. So it had hit him the hardest. He'd been out in the open the longest. And now he was paying the price.
It was the fallout, he guessed. They had gone and detonated a nuclear bomb over his little two-bit city. And somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he had remembered hearing something about fallout long ago. Of course, he hadn't thought of that the day of the bomb. And now it was too late.
Surely it was just temporary, though. The radiation had just made him a little sick for a few days. Then he'd get back to normal. Just a little hiccup. Because his life was just starting to take off. He couldn't let a little radiation get in his way. All his plans were coming together. His body couldn't betray him now.
The gray coloring to his skin had gotten worse today.
He didn't want the other guys getting the wrong idea. He didn't want them to think their leader was faltering. It would create an opening for someone else to try and take over. Oscar couldn't have that. This whole thing was his idea. If anyone was going to be king of White Rock, it was going to be him.
So today, when he had woken up, he panicked. His skin was too gray. Everyone would see it and know something was wrong with his health. They would discuss it behind his back and plot to throw him out and take over the operation.
This morning, when he had seen his reflection, he knew he had to take action. He immediately began searching through the makeup drawer of the woman who had lived in the master bedroom before Oscar had taken it over. He was in luck. She had all kinds of stuff to cover her skin.
Her skin tone had been a little lighter than his, but it was good enough. He smeared the makeup over his face and neck.
Good as new.
Oscar grabbed his firearms, stepped outside, and met Dox in the hall on his way to his own bedroom. Dox was on night watch.
“Hey, Big O,” Dox said, smiling. “Good news. The Thomasons just took over the last block of Fourteenth Street.”
Oscar grinned. “That is good news. So we'll have both sides of the interstate coming from the west. You've got them stationed out on I-10?”
Dox nodded. “Yep. Anyone driving through here won't know what hit 'em.”
“Good man.”
Oscar bounded down the stairs to check on the operations in the living room. Dox was a good ally to have. He trusted him to make sure things were moving ahead even while Oscar slept.
The guys downstairs greeted him as he walked through. They kept most of the arsenal in this house. And it was getting bigger by the hour.
He walked outside into the morning light. Down the block was their food storage facility. He was going to check on that now, and then he'd get to work on the other side of the interstate, taking over houses and recruiting new members.
Everything was working like a well-oiled machine. And soon, he'd get his health back. Hell, he might even kick his heroin habit. He wanted to be in top shape. After all, his future was brighter than it had ever been.
And anyone who stood in his way would get a bullet in the head so fast they wouldn't even see it coming.
20
Jack brought the Pathfinder to a stop along the side of the interstate.
The sudden lack of movement startled Naomi, and she bolted upright in her seat, awake. In the back seat, Brent woke up from his nap as well.
“We need gas,” Jack said.
They already had a length of tubing they had found the last time they stopped, near the California/Arizona state line. With the hose, they would be able to siphon gas out of abandoned cars from the side of the road. Jack parked the truck near a cluster of abandoned vehicles along the interstate.
“Everyone got your weapons?” Jack asked.
Brent and Naomi nodded and sat up. Naomi was carrying Frank's pistol – the one he had used to murder her mother. Jack had tried to convince her to use the other one, but she had insisted.
Brent and Naomi held their pistols as Jack had taught them and all three emerged from the vehicle.
This would be their second stop since Jack had stolen the Pathfinder. At the first stop, which they had made a couple of hours ago in the late morning, Jack had given them a crash course in gun handling. Then they had had an abbreviated target practice on the highway, shooting at some bottles and cans Jack had assembled on a tree stump. They all practiced shooting each of the pistols they had. But since they were short on ammo, Jack didn't think it was wise to waste it. And so they had only gotten to fire a few rounds each. It was far from enough. Jack didn't feel exactly confident when it came to Naomi and Brent handling a firearm. But with their limited supply of ammunition and the time constraints, it was the best they could manage for the time being.
“Naomi, you wait here,” Jack pointed to the rear side of the Pathfinder. “Brent, you go stand on the other side of that Buick up ahead. Remember, keep your eyes and ears open.”
Although the area seemed deserted and therefore safe, Jack didn't want to take any chances. While he was focused on getting gas for the Pathfinder, he didn't want to be surprised and ambushed. So Naomi and Brent would be on the lookout while he worked.
Though he wasn't confident about their firearm hand
ling, they were at least willing to stand on guard. And Jack was pleased to notice that Brent seemed to be taking things a little more seriously. The reality of the situation had finally sunk in for the younger man. Jack could see that he was more eager to pull his weight.
And Naomi… Well, it wasn't that Naomi didn't want to pull her own weight. It was just that she was practically sleepwalking. She seemed distracted. Not all there. And she was still sleeping a lot. She had agreed to take the next driving shift, but Jack was planning to make her shift short. He didn't want her dozing off at the wheel.
Jack approached the minivan to his left. He inserted the hose into the gas tank and started siphoning. He got a mouthful of gas, which he spat out. It was a small price to pay for fuel. The gasoline started pouring into the gas container on the ground.
He looked up at the dusty, quiet interstate area. They were in central Arizona now, in a small desert city just west of Phoenix.
Some junipers grew in a patch of red, sandy soil along the access road. Nearby, prickly pear cactus grew in clumps in the median. To the north, rugged mountain peaks reached toward the sky. The sun was big, round, and high above them.
It seemed the EMP had affected every city and town they had driven through. And bombs had been detonated in many areas. From the looks of it, the city they were now in had been attacked as well. Jack could smell the toxic aroma that hung in the air wherever a bomb had been detonated. It was a strange blend of wood smoke, sulfur and noxious chemicals. And up ahead and to the left, he could see in the distance some taller buildings that had collapsed. The houses around the interstate were still standing, but Jack imagined that downtown was destroyed.
He thought it strange that even a smaller city like this one had been bombed just the same as Los Angeles. He shook his head. The attacks had been widespread and devastating. Each city they passed through that had been attacked only increased his worry for his wife.
Up ahead near the Buick, Brent stood on alert. He swept his head from side to side, scanning the area that he was monitoring.
Jack and Brent both wore the same clothes they had worn to work on Wednesday. Brent's plaid shirt had been torn and soiled by blood. His pants were filthy from sleeping on the floor of the drug den in East LA. His sandy hair, normally well-groomed and styled, was now a mess. But thankfully, Brent had stopped complaining about his discomforts. He had finally realized that none of the trio was exactly comfortable.