Apocalyptic Beginnings Box Set

by M. D. Massey

  “Blah blah blah, I got up about an hour ago, and do you know those two ordered me to make dinner?” Ella said with furrowed brows.

  “Aw, men. It figures. How’s Justin?” Scarlett asked.

  “He seems quiet, for Justin, that is,” Ella said.

  “We had a terrible experience last night. I’m sure we’re all still recovering,” Scarlett said, hoping to put Ella at ease. She lingered over the stovetop, wishing she could simply inhale dinner. “So, what’s for dinner?”

  “Not you, too?” Ella smiled.

  “You spoil us with your wonderful cooking. Where are the Stockton Boys?”

  Ella shrugged her shoulders and stirred the pot on the stove.

  Scarlett opened the front door of the house to find Justin on the porch.

  “Hey you, how the heck are you?” Justin asked. He seemed relieved to see her.

  “Much better. Still have a bit of a headache and a sore throat from the smoke. Justin, thank you so much. You saved my life last night. If you hadn’t been there the smoke inhalation would have killed me,” she whispered, not wanting Ella to overhear.

  “You’re the one who figured out how to get us out of there. I couldn’t have gotten Ella out of there by myself. Nate and Paxton got there just in time,” Justin said somberly.

  It got Scarlett thinking. “Hmm, Paxton and Nate just happened to be there, below the balcony to my room.” She paused for a moment, remembering. “And, LuLu was already in the parking lot when we were still trapped upstairs. Why didn’t she warn us?” Scarlett wondered out loud.

  “Uh, maybe she was already downstairs when the fire started. She was probably watching a movie in the lobby and fell asleep. She does that sometimes. By the time I woke up, both stairways were blocked by the fire,” Justin said.

  “I don’t know. Call me paranoid, but something’s off,” Scarlett said, thinking about it. “Seen any creepers, I mean zombies?” She corrected herself, knowing full well Justin expected the official terminology, he being the official Zombie Expert and all.

  “No. It’s been super quiet here, which is hecka odd.”

  “How close are we to the hotel? I was thinking of checking it out. What if Dean and Luther find the place deserted?” Scarlett said, already planning her next move.

  “Ye-ah, Dean’s gonna freak.” Justin rolled his eyes.

  “Do you want to go with me to check out the hotel? We should leave a note for Dean and Luther to meet us here.” Scarlett decided.

  Justin crammed a handful of potato chips into his mouth; the crunching sounds tortured her hunger pangs. On the wicker table, next to Justin was an open bag of Lay’s Potato Chips. Then he took a long gulp of Mountain Dew.

  “Hey, where’d you get the chips and soda?” Scarlett reached over for a handful of chips. Justin snatched the bag, keeping it just out of her reach.

  “Pretty please with sugar on top,” Scarlett said, giving what she hoped was her cutest smile. She hadn’t had potato chips in months. “Where’d you find chips that aren’t expired?”

  “Who said they’re not expired?” Justin quipped.

  Scarlett leaned over him and grabbed the bag. “They expired in October,” she said in her mom voice.

  “Are you for real? After all we’ve been through, the end of the world and flesh-eating monsters rising from the dead . . .”

  “Zombies, we call them zombies,” she mimicked.

  “Really, I’m not so worried about dying from expired potato chips,” Justin retorted.

  “Point taken.” She nibbled on a chip. Wow, her taste buds zinged. “Where’d you get these anyway?” she asked, enjoying the salty crunch she missed.

  “Like, the whole garage is full of freakin’ junk food. I thought I’d died and gone to Geek-Squad heaven.”

  “There’s food in the garage?” she questioned.

  “Tons of it!”

  “Don’t you think that’s peculiar?” Something’s definitely not right, she thought.

  “Ye-ah, boxes and boxes of food. And supplies like toilet paper and stuff, even gasoline,” he said while munching.

  They both grabbed another handful of chips.

  “Dean’s likely to have a heart attack when he returns to the hotel,” Scarlett said sarcastically. “Especially, if he can’t find us.”

  “Uh, Scarlett, there’s something you need to know.” Justin hesitated. “Um, ye-ah, we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

  “What do you mean?” Scarlett saw an uneasiness flickering in his eyes. “Well,” she prodded, still wondering how the garage could be full of supplies so soon. They had just arrived.

  “Last night, Paxton and Nate—” he hesitated, “drove us to Sacramento.”

  “What! You’re flippin’ kidding me?” But she didn’t see any signs of his usual smirky-ness. “Why the hell did they do that?” Now, I’m pissed.

  “Why didn’t you stop Paxton?” she scolded.

  “Like, how exactly was I supposed to do that? Paxton’s way bigger than me. And, and, he’s the one with a gun,” his voice faded into the early evening breeze.

  “So, we all have guns,” Scarlett reminded him.

  “Not anymore . . .”

  “Paxton always has extra guns in his truck, and God knows what else is in that duffle bag he lugs around. Surely, we only need to ask; after all, it’s only common sense. It takes all of us to survive these days,” she said, thinking as logically as she could.

  “I don’t think we’re here as houseguests.” Justin was skirting around something, but she couldn’t tell what. She stared at him. What is he not saying?

  “Okay, okay, okay, you don’t get it. I overheard Paxton and Nate. We’re, uh—prisoners.” His whisper was so low she doubted his words.

  Her mind went cosmic-black. A lucid dream-image materialized before her eyes. Her entire body shuddered. Fear paralyzed her from the inside out . . .

  Disoriented, Scarlett felt herself come back slowly.

  “Scarlett, Scarlett—” Justin was gently shaking her shoulders.

  The vision-like spell seemed different this time, like she had left her body. She couldn’t remember what she’d seen—if anything. But she remembered the terror. We’re in deep shit!

  “You scared the crap out of me! Why didn’t you tell me you have seizures?”

  She heard the panic in his voice. But it was nothing like the panic ricocheting around in her head. She didn’t tell him about her premonition. Would he even believe her? Besides, what would I say? I see scary things. We all do these days. “Justin, I think we might be in some trouble here.” It was all she managed to say.

  “I think they’re taking us to Texas. I heard them talking,” Justin said.

  Why kidnap us? Jeez, they could have asked us to go. That’s where everyone wants to go anyway. “Actually, did Dean talk to you before he left? He wants us to go to Texas anyway,” Scarlett said, ignoring her gut feeling.

  “I’m cool with that, but not without Dean. No freakin’ way!” Justin was adamant.

  “Maybe things aren’t as dire as we think,” she said, still deep in thought. “I can do Texas after I check out Pinole.”

  “I should tell you, Luther said it’s suicidal to go to Pinole. He said you wouldn’t make it past Vallejo,” Justin said gravely.

  “I absolutely have to, or I’ll never forgive myself,” she said, holding back the tears.

  “Ye-ah, Dean said you’re dead-set on it. He’s planning to attempt the trip to Pinole with you when he gets back, just to make you happy. But, it’s a waste of time,” Justin warned.

  She eyed him carefully while he crammed another handful of chips into his mouth. “I haven’t seen a single creeper,” she said, still trying to come up with some sort of strategy just in case her recent vision had been a warning. Am I just paranoid?

  “It’s amazingly quiet here. Like, I haven’t seen a single Z. Can you believe it? After they ridiculed Dean’s awesome Z-maze, they actually built one to secure this entire area,”
Justin retorted.

  Suddenly, Scarlett knew. She knew it and felt it more than any gut feeling she had ever had. Dean was not in the Stockton Boys’ game plan. At the end of the residential street, a Ram truck turned the corner. Every muscle in her body tensed. Her heart thudded. They’re coming. Stay calm.

  “If things—bad things—start to happen, take Ella and get out of here. Maybe go to Reno, like Luther. The Stockton Boys probably won’t think of Reno. And then maybe by spring, if things haven’t returned to normal, go to Texas,” Scarlett said, thinking out loud.

  “Are you cray-cray?” his voice escalated about ten octaves.

  Nate and Paxton were out of the truck, briskly walking to the porch. She forced a fake smile, waving casually to them and whispered to Justin, “If things get ugly, I’ll try to distract them. Don’t wait for me, just go,” she pleaded.

  Paxton and Nate stepped onto the porch, eyeing the two of them. Here comes the hard part. Don’t blow it! Scarlett’s anger billowed inside of her like the flames consuming last night’s fire. It took all her willpower to keep from confronting the two of them. Had they intentionally started the fire? Why hadn’t they told everyone about the Sacramento safehouse? Things were starting to add up. And she did not like it. Play it cool. The fact that they don’t know—that I know—is my only trump card.

  She caught her breath, forcing herself to breathe slowly, normally. “Hey, you two, dinner’s almost ready,” she said cheerfully, forcing another smile and hoped it didn’t look like a grimace as she seethed.

  They ate dinner in silence. She didn’t even taste the Fettuccini Alfredo Ella had prepared. Scarlett refrained from talking, blaming it on her headache. Thankfully, her headache had diminished for the most part, but it was the only excuse she could think of for being so quiet. After dinner, Scarlett busied herself with the clean-up. LuLu finally sat down at the dinner table sporting a huge, bluish-black eye. It must have hurt like hell. Hmm, I didn’t notice it this morning.

  Ella was wiping down the kitchen counter when Nate burst into the kitchen. He brushed up against Ella, sneering. “Hey, Justin’s girlfriend. I’m still hungry!”

  Justin butted in, “Dude, there’s a whole case of Pepperidge Farms cookies in the garage.” Nate stomped off.

  Justin gave Scarlett a knowing look. Anger boiled inside as Scarlett’s fear reached critical mass. Think. What does Paxton really want? Don’t worry about Nate. She wasn’t stupid; Paxton was the one in charge. She racked her brain for the best way to handle their precarious situation. Paxton was a hard nut to crack. If she knew what motivated him, maybe she could figure out how to play him. She had taken plenty of psychology classes in college.

  As she recalled, psychologists or profilers labeled each personality type into a few so-called categories. However, based on her life experience, things didn’t always go “by the book.” There was always someone with a bizarre personality trait, someone completely off the chart. Someone like Paxton? She wondered. He’s definitely off the flippin’ chart—a super freak.

  Scarlett decided to play dumb and go along with the Stockton Boys until she figured out a plan. Rooted deep inside of her was the rationalization she might be suffering from paranoia.

  After they cleaned the kitchen, Scarlett grabbed a Rachael Ray cookbook from the cupboard and joined Paxton and Nate in the den. They were in the middle of another one of their heated discussions, but they ceased arguing when she entered the room.

  She sat down on the leopard-print, sectional sofa and nonchalantly flipped through the pages all the while trying to figure the best way to broach the subject: What are we doing here? But first, she had to stop her heart from pounding so fast.

  Gradually, she calmed her racing heart. “Did you check out the hotel this afternoon?” She hoped it would get the Stockton Boys talking and ease the mounting tension. Their silence drove her mad.

  “It’s gone. Nothing but smoldering ash,” Paxton said.

  “I think we should leave at dawn. And wait in the hotel parking lot for Dean and Luther,” she said, relieved her voice hadn’t quivered.

  No response. Nothing. Silence. Nate twitched about in his chair and glanced over at Paxton. Nate looked like he wanted to say something, like he was about to burst, Scarlett thought.

  “I hear you loud and clear,” Paxton mumbled, more interested in the gun magazine he was reading.

  Scarlett had the impression Paxton sat there scoping out the situation just as she was. Justin and Ella joined them in the African motif den. The cute couple sat on the floor at the coffee table.

  “Look what I scored. Sweet,” Justin drawled, shuffling a deck of Coca-Cola playing cards.

  Scarlett figured Justin was trying to cheer up Ella. He dealt Ella and him a hand of Gin Rummy. Scarlett smiled to herself. Justin’s playing it cool. She wished she could feel as cool and collected as Justin appeared.

  Nate was enjoying a Penthouse magazine a little bit too much. They ignored his vulgar slurs. For some reason, LuLu hadn’t joined them; instead, she had stayed in the dining room after eating her cold dinner. Scarlett thumbed through the cookbook with no time to daydream over the decadent German Chocolate cake illustration tempting her taste buds.

  Were the Stockton Boys up to trouble, or was she just paranoid? She needed a Plan B just in case Paxton and Nate had an ulterior motive for bringing them to Sacramento. What did they have to gain by burning down the hotel? It had also served as a safe haven for them as well.

  Scarlett feigned contentment, all the while analyzing the situation when all she really wanted to do was bolt to the princess bedroom to contemplate the situation in solitude. She needed to remain vigilant. What was that old saying? “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer . . .” Something like that. She needed to figure out what was going on without confronting Paxton and Nate. A confrontation would only cause trouble. An avalanche of trouble. What she needed was some sort of avalanche control, since she didn’t have Dean to protect her.

  No Dean.

  No gun.

  Trouble.

  Justin casually tossed down an ace on the throw-away pile of cards. Ella giggled and snatched it. “Looks like someone’s about to win,” Scarlett remarked cheerfully.

  “And it’s gonna be me,” Justin teased.

  “Not!” Ella teased back.

  Scarlett enjoyed the moment. It was relaxing watching Ella and Justin goof around again. The screechy ring of a fax machine ringtone startled everyone. Justin jumped up, bumping the small table, cards spilling everywhere.

  “What the heck!” Justin exclaimed and patted his pocket.

  Paxton and Nate made eye contact as if blaming each other for something. The phone screeched again.

  “Justin, you didn’t tell me you still had your phone,” Paxton accused.

  “Wha da fuck?” Nate joined in.

  “Like, dudes, it’s the same phone I’ve had forever.” Justin answered the phone while Paxton and Nate scrambled out of their recliners.

  “Dean, Dean, the hotel burned down. We’re in Sac—”

  Paxton cold-cocked Justin, knocking him to the floor. Ella was by his side first.

  Paxton snatched the purple iPhone. “This the old man?” Paxton asked. A moment of silence followed. “Any luck at Travis?” Another moment of silence.

  Paxton laughed eerily. “You are soooo fucked.” Paxton threw the phone to the hardwood floor. He stomped it with his army-like combat boots, smashing it to smithereens.

  “What the hell?” Justin got to his knees, but Nate kicked him back to the floor.

  Ella screamed.

  “Shut da fuck-up Bambi-bitch,” Nate shrieked.

  Justin glared.

  If looks could kill.

  “Whoa, everyone calm down! I’m sure this is a misunderstanding. Ella, why don’t you go get some rest,” Scarlett said, attempting to bring the situation under control.

  “No one’s going anywhere!” Paxton glowered.

  “That’s wha
I’m talkin’ ’bout. Let her have it. Right now! Man, show her who da boss is. Make her blow you right here in front of us. I wanna watch!” Nate raved, staggering around the room like a creeper on crank.

  “Now Nate, you’re scaring the children.” Paxton grinned wickedly.

  “Do her now! Come on, be a man. I dare you,” Nate egged on and jumped on top of the sofa next to Scarlett. He ripped the cookbook out of her hands, flinging it into the fireplace’s warming fire.

  Scarlett didn’t think. She slapped Nate across the cheek. He stumbled back, falling flat on his back, fortunately for him, landing on the sofa. She instantly regretted the slap. Oh, shit! Nate flashed a switchblade. Before she knew it, he was beside her. The blade stung hot-and-cold against her neck.

  “Justin!” She tried to yell, but the pressing blade stifled it to a hoarse whispery yell. “This is it.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Justin freeze. Bewildered. Paxton grabbed Nate, swinging him around. The switchblade grazed her collarbone. The African mirror over the fireplace mantle caught the reflection of the ruby-red ribbon bloodletting droplets seeping through her skin. She stood up, knees weak, and collapsed to the floor in shock. Justin grabbed Ella’s hand, and then they bolted out the front door.

  Paxton and Nate rumbled on the floor. Nate’s wiry frame could not hold off Paxton for long, no matter what kind of drugs the druggie had in his system. Paxton gained control of the situation and towered triumphantly over Nate. “You fucker!” Paxton spat.

  Nate whined and rolled about on the floor in obvious pain. LuLu came running into the den with a first-aid kit. Her deadpan expression showed no signs of empathy as she helped Scarlett to the sofa. Paxton’s eyes darted wildly around the room. Paxton went tearing down the hall. Oh please, oh please, let Justin and Ella escape!

  “What’s going on with you and Nate? Are you both insane?” Scarlett yelled from the den, hoping to distract Paxton despite her growing fear.

  Paxton returned to the den, staring her down. Scarlett winced involuntarily. His rage devoured her like acid rain dissolving flesh. She found herself lost in a moment of agonizing pain. The sound of an engine got their attention. Paxton dashed out the door, Uzi in hand.