Darkness on a Pale Blue Stone

by D. T. Peterson

  "Good afternoon, Rebeca," Kelsey said. "Who are... Well, I'll be damned. Maybe I'm seeing things in my old age, but is that..."

  "Alexander Gresson. It's nice to meet you."

  "I'm sure it's nice for you to meet anybody. You know you're supposed to be dead, right?"

  "That's what everyone tells me."

  "Well. Normally I'd probably be asking you all kinds of questions, but I guess this is one more otherworldly thing I need to accept and move on."

  "I would be happy to tell you what I can at some point. For now, though, we need a place to stay."

  Kelsey sighed. "Everyone always wants something. Just once I'd love a new person to walk in here and say 'Here, I found a food source' or 'Have some medical supplies' or 'Take some pencils.' You know we are almost out of pencils? This is a school, and there's no pencils! How do you not have any pencils in a school?" Kelsey realized she had started rambling and cleared her throat. "Sorry. If you want a place to stay... Hmm... I know there is at least one empty house on Holiday Street. Tell you what. Classes end in a few minutes, then I need to talk to some of the teachers and also the parents when they pick up their kids. After that, I'll take you over there. How many people do you need a place for?"

  "Nine," Gresson replied.

  "You'll be pretty cramped with nine, but..."

  "Some of you can stay with me," Rebeca offered. "There's an extra bedroom, and two couches."

  "We'll see what we can find and figure it out then. Now, I have a lot of stuff to do until we go, so..." Kelsey waved her hand toward the door. After thanking her, everyone returned to the lobby.

  "So how does Kelsey decide where people live?" Sean asked. "I mean, a house might be empty, but that doesn't mean someone won't be coming back."

  Rebeca shrugged. "So far, it's just been her say as to what goes on around here. If a problem comes up, she negotiates. It's worked up to now."

  The children were let out of school several minutes later. It took nearly an hour for all the children to leave, either picked up by parents or left to walk home on their own. Once Kelsey was done discussing school and community matters, she found the group and led them to Holiday Street. Kelsey talked with neighbors and knocked on doors, eventually settling that two of the homes were abandoned.

  "Ok, so who wants what?" Kelsey asked.

  The group eventually decided on the Cases staying in one house, the rest of the men staying in the other, and Lash staying with Rebeca. They all helped each other check out, clean up, and scavenge through the two houses. Beds were prepared, garbaged was removed, and all the food and supplies were counted. While there was still work to be done, they decided to call it a day once the sun began to touch the horizon. They were all quite happy to have their own living arrangements and actual beds, though the Cases were not used to such a small home with so few amenities. Jake, however, was particularly happy with his set-up, which was a dinosaur themed children's room. "Now if I ever get scared about the Exterminators, I can always look around and remember that at least they aren't velociraptors," he commented.

  They walked out to the street and said their goodbyes for the night.

  "Don't be scarce," Jake told Lash.

  "Aw, you gonna miss me?" Lash teased.

  "Nah, I just feel better about myself when you're around."

  "Ha, ha, ha. Very funny. I sure won't be missing your sorry ass," she mocked.

  "We both know you'll cry yourself to sleep tonight."

  Nearby Gresson was talking to Kelsey.

  "Within the next few days I would like to have some kind of community meeting," he said. "There are some things we need to prepare for."

  "I'll see what I can do. Come by the school later this week and we'll talk."

  "How fast can news travel around here?"

  "Faster than you'd think was even possible. There are lots of people with nothing to do, except share gossip if they have it, or even if they don't. A lot of social barriers have been torn down these last few weeks. It feels like, dare I say it, an actual neighborhood. I'm sure you'll see for yourself soon enough."

  Everyone eventually went their separate ways. They all returned to their new homes by the time the sun had set.

  The Cases sat together in their dark new living room, which was as big as one of their bathrooms had once been. The two couches and floor were dirty, with only a shattered TV lying on the floor. There were no pictures to see who had last lived there before as the picture frames were all digital. Aside from a few feline decorations in the kitchen and a cactus in one of the bedrooms, the house was vacant of a personality.

  "So, this is our new home," Michael said.

  "It's a dump," Marie complained.

  "It's better than sleeping on the road," Adam said.

  "We'll clean it up some more tomorrow," Alice said. "Maybe I can find a few things to spruce it up."

  "I hate this," Marie said as she began to sob.

  Michael wrapped an arm around his daughter. "It'll be okay."

  "No, it won't!" she cried.

  Aside from Marie, the family sat in the darkness in silence for a few minutes, pondering how radically different their lives had become.

  "I want to go to bed," Marie said quietly.

  The family got up and a few minutes later, they had all done just that. They could hear distant shouts and dogs barking outside. A fight broke out down the street the following hour. Each small movement any of them made resulted in their bed squeaking. The back door would swing and make noise when the wind blew too hard. Occasionally, the sounds of a rodent could be heard in the walls. Sleep did not come easy.

  Chapter 41

  Jacksonville - October 5, 2072

  The past month had flown by. The Cases' time had been taken up by house cleaning, assisting at the school, starting a backyard garden, and meeting neighbors. They had attempted to find whatever animal was in the house, but so far had not caught it. The seeds for the garden had come from their next door neighbor, Isaac. He was a man in his forties and something about him gave Marie the creeps, but he had already proved to be a valuable friend to have. Besides aid with the garden, he had helped Michael fix the back door.

  Others they had met in the community included Wesley, the man Rebeca had mentioned who had taken on the role of water provider, Tom and Misha, a couple who also lived on Holiday Street and had a two-year old son, and Zoey, a teacher at the Tomas Cortez Memorial High School. All of them in particular had helped the newcomers adjust to life in post-apocalyptic Jacksonville.

  Two houses down from the Cases lived Jake, Sean, Lucas, and Gresson. They had also spent a considerable amount of time cleaning and organizing their new home, especially the basement which they planned to use for food storage.

  The community would be gathering today at the high school's football stadium. Gresson hoped to establish some kind of defense for the area and he would need as many people involved as possible. He also wanted to get the rumor of his existence, which had now traveled all over Jacksonville and led to several pilgrimages to see him, out in the open and officially addressed.

  Once a decent amount of people had arrived and taken seats on the field or the stands, along with Valdez and a few marines who had traveled there by their newly fashioned boats, Gresson walked out onto the field in front of them. There were scattered gasps among those who had not yet seen the former president in person.

  "I will make this short. Yes, I am President Gresson. Put simply, my death was an exaggeration. The gunshot on July 4th, 2070 merely wounded me. As Vice President Reyes is not longer available to continue as acting President, I have returned to my office. My latest orders have been to establish a military presence here in Jacksonville. General Valdez and his marines have done just that. The second step for defending our community is to build a perimeter. We will need roads walled off and gates at access points. In order to do this, every able person will need to help. Marines will be organizing this process. The walls will be made mostly of nearb
y materials, whether it is vehicles, building debris, or whatever else is found. The wall will be built first on the north shore at the nearest bridge, then will extend in a half circle and end on the east shore. The marines and I have determined the best location for the wall and the military 'safe zone' this will protect. Everyone will need to respect the marines' judgement when working with them."

  Kelsey stood up. "Mr. President, if I may. Building walls is the last thing this community needs. People will be pouring in..."

  "The decision has been made," Gresson replied abruptly. He was going to do whatever he needed to do in order to protect people from the Exterminators. The walls themselves would do little to stop them, but having defensive positions could prove vital.

  After speaking about more specific details, Gresson ended his speech and allowed Kelsey to take the field and address the crowd. She decided against voicing any more concern about the wall and instead relayed community news and the school schedule. She also requested that everyone look out for a small child, a twelve year old girl with blonde hair and green eyes, who had gone missing several days earlier. Her parents had not given up hope, but Kelsey feared the worst.

  Work began on the wall the next day. Inspired by the opportunity to join in on something led by the once-thought-dead president, hundreds of people lent aid by moving materials for the wall, securing its supports, and building working gates. By the third day, the number of those helping had grown to thousands. Even more had begun moving into the so-called "safe zone." The resources available in the area, already sparse, were becoming taxed to an extreme, though there was now almost an unlimited number of hands available to build, scavenge, collect, and tend.

  On the fourth day of wall building, Gresson and the marines heard news that led to them doubling their effort. Exterminators had been sighted in western rural areas of Florida. Their numbers varied greatly depending on the rumor. Some claimed it was only two or three, while others said the Exterminators numbered in the thousands. Gresson hoped for the former, but knew it would have been difficult for someone to mistake two dark, menacing figures as thousands. He still had no real plan for stopping them. Due to their suits, killing them with guns would prove impossible. Even a battalion of marines would do little good.

  On October 10th, the fifth day of wall building, the group convened at a small restaurant for lunch. The restaurant wasn't in service, but the tables and chairs on the patio of "Max's Tex-Mex" had become a comfortable central location where they all enjoyed meeting. They had brought their own packed meals and most had just finished a shift at the wall.

  "Man, I really wish this place was open," Sean said. "I would kill for some beef chili, or any kind of fresh meat honestly. I'm sick of canned food."

  "Oh, tell me about it. Beans suck," Lash moaned.

  "Someone should start a chicken farm," Adam suggested.

  "Aw, yeah! Good idea," Sean said enthusiastically.

  "So, Michael. I heard you're working on something with the marines? Some kind of raft?" Jake asked.

  "Yeah, it's for transporting bigger stuff over the river. We already built the raft and now we're working on a pulley system. Shouldn't even need anyone on the raft itself to take it from one side to the other."

  "Very cool," Jake remarked.

  "So how are the houses working out?" Lash asked.

  "Ugh," was Marie's reply.

  "Oh, stop. Ours is working out great," Alice said. She was still in her wheelchair, but her wound had healed dramatically, thanks in part to the treatment she had received in New Salvador. "You saw our garden, right?" Lash nodded. "Well, I got seeds for flowers and I'm hoping to grow them and use them for bartering. Everyone I have seen is just growing food, so maybe the flowers can get me some decent trades downtown."

  "Has anyone actually been downtown yet?" Lucas asked. Everyone shook their heads. "I'm hoping to start a church, but all the ones around here are being used for something else already. I'm wondering what's available deeper in the city."

  "You wouldn't want to, you know, spend your time doing something useful?" Jake remarked.

  "And I'm going to change the subject," Sean declared, navigating past another religious debate. "Anyone have any ideas for Zach's birthday next week?"

  "Who's Zach?" Lash asked.

  "Did you meet Tom and Misha? They live on the same street as us. Zach is their two-year old, soon to be three-year old, son," Sean explained.

  "Oh, how cute! Are you thinking about throwing a..." Lash said, until she was interrupted by shouts down the road.

  The commotion was coming from a small gun shop. It was one of the few places left in Jacksonville to get a weapon and the owner had a reputation of asking very expensive trades for anything he sold, except for discounts he gave for any veterans and military personnel. What had apparently been a barter disagreement had spilled out onto the street. As the group approached, they saw about ten grungy-looking gang members pointing guns at the store owner while he aimed his own pistol.

  "Just give us what we want, old man," one of the gang members said. Jake recognized the yellow symbols on their shoulders. They were from the same gang that had set up the bridge toll in Georgia days ago.

  "Hey!" Jake yelled, pulling out his gun. Gresson, Adam, Sean, and Lash also drew theirs. "We saw some of you people in Georgia. What are you doing here?"

  "Screw off. This doesn't concern you," one of them, a teenage girl with a rifle, replied.

  "Bullshit. This is New Jacksonville. No one starts trouble here without dealing with us," Jake said.

  "New Jacksonville?" Lash quietly questioned.

  "Just run with it, okay?" Jake whispered back.

  "It's not very clever," Lash retorted.

  "Who the hell are you?" one of the gang members, a man in his thirties, asked.

  "We should ask you the same thing," Adam said.

  "We are from the Sunrise Gang," the man said smugly.

  Jake let out a loud laugh. "What kind of fruity name is that?"

  The Sunrise Gang members all aimed at Jake.

  "Jake..." Gresson warned, preparing for some quick trigger pulling.

  "Not that we have to explain ourselves to you, but the purpose of our gang is to live to see the next sunrise. And the next. And the next," the man said proudly.

  "The purpose of your gang is to live... for three days? Wow. That's... incredible," Jake mocked.

  "What do you know, huh? If only you knew our leader, Q. T. Reginald. He's a visionary. The name of our gang is from his famous speech at..."

  "Wait, wait, wait. Cutie Reginald? Really?"

  The man repeated himself in a louder tone with a religious resolve "his famous speech at our founding in Albany. It's his guidance that keeps alive, here at the end of the world. We don't have to fear about not seeing tomorrow. Not like a cretin like you!"

  "Cretin?" Jake was again mystified by their vocabulary choice.

  "Jake, enough," Gresson said.

  "But, Gresson. 'Cretin?'"

  "Are you really that offended?" Lash asked, hoping an appeal to his pride would shut him up.

  "No, no. Just very, very confused. And disturbed."

  "Are you done?" the man said. "We're here for weapons. And we will leave with weapons. Is that clear?" The others beside him smiled arrogantly. They had apparently been in situations like this before and prevailed.

  "No," Gresson said.

  A few of them now recognized Gresson, but their de facto leader did not. Instead he turned toward the gun store owner and shot him in the head. He spun back, expecting to be treated now with more respect. Instead he received two bullets to the skull.

  It had taken less than one second for Gresson to drop all but one of the Sunrise Gang members. The last had taken a shot in the hand and she now cowered on the ground in terror.

  Lash looked at Gresson in shock. The shots had happened so fast, she hadn't even had a chance to pull her own trigger, nor had Sean, Jake, or Adam. She had seen Gresson fire a g
un before, but this time it was just as the Cases had described from their first night with him when he had killed a group of looters. His reflexes were imperceptibly fast. He had efficiently killed or maimed each of the ten without hitting anyone in the surrounding crowd.

  Gresson inhaled through his nose then exhaled through his mouth. He walked over to the final gang member, the teenage girl.

  "Go back and tell them never to come here again. New Jacksonville is off-limits."

  The girl whimpered and ran off, holding her bloody hand.

  "New Jacksonville?" Adam asked. "That's really what we're going with?"

  "Jake made it up, not me. Blame him," Gresson said as he kneeled down to check on the store owner. He was dead. As Gresson stood back up, he noticed the crowd inching closer. One of them began to run for the open door of the store, now owned by no one.

  "Hey, whoa!" Gresson protested. But the rush for free guns had begun. Gresson tried to block the doorway, but several people managed to squeeze inside. Someone else broke the front window. Marines finally arrived at the scene, but could do little to keep the crowd back.

  Gresson fired his gun into the air. The crowd stopped moving and most ducked. "The store is closed! Everyone go home!"

  "We need guns to protect ourselves!" someone yelled. A few agreements were heard.

  "If you want to protect yourselves, leave!" Gresson shouted, pointing his gun at the crowd. There were shouts as many ran away. A few gave glares, but eventually retreated. Those inside surrendered the merchandise they had taken and begrudgingly left.

  "This is chaos," Lash said.

  "These people need more guns," Sean said.

  Alice shook her head. "No. These people need a government."

  Chapter 42

  Moon - October 10, 2072