Antediluvian Purge (Book 1): EMP

by Ison, S. A.

  Finally, he found a home that had potential. Ugly lawn ornaments littered the ground, and many old people he knew liked those retched things.

  Smiling, he walked up to the house and opened the door and walked in. He looked around and saw a bent, wizened old woman who resembled one of the rotund little gnomes, down to the red rosy cheeks. She looked up. A smile trembled on her wrinkled face, her old faded eyes watery and unfocused. She was standing at a large table on which several bright solar lanterns stood, illuminating the room.

  Hobo walked over to the old woman and hit her with a closed fist, knocking her to the ground. She lay, unmoving, on the ground. She was still alive, he could see, but essentially out of the way, blood gushing from her nose and mouth. He walked over and squatted near her. Poking at her gray head, he heard her moan. He stood and stepped away, and slipped. Blood on the bottom of his shoe. He looked around the living and dining room.

  Up atop a large oak buffet and hutch were stacked various boxes and bags. Behind the clutter was a bottle. It looked like a bottle of Jack Daniels, and his mouth watered. Just what he needed. He drew the back of his wrist across his mouth, vomit smearing across his face.

  His head was throbbing and his stomach still roiling. He pulled an oak chair over and climbed up. With one hand holding onto the back of the chair, Hobo grabbed on to the shelf of the hutch. Leaning forward, he placed his foot on the buffet and reached for the bottle. His foot slipped. He wobbled wildly and clutched the top of the hutch.

  He flew back and tried to right himself by pulling himself forward. The hutch began to rock forward toward Hobo. The chair rocked wildly and flew out from under Hobo and he fell forward, his face hitting the top of the buffet. The hutch tottered wildly and plates began to fall. Hobo bounced off the buffet and landed on the wood floor. The heavy oak hutch toppled over, landed on top of Hobo, and knocked him out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Robby Rob moved through the dark of the coal mine, sometimes bumping his head on the uneven ceiling. It was near pitch black in the coal mine, the only light coming from several wavering candles placed on ledges and a couple tables. He bumped into a man, Stroh, he thought. It was hard to tell, but thought he recognized the policeman’s face. He’d had a run-in or two with the man in the past.

  Robby Rob watched the man maneuver around a group of women to stop by a woman with her arm around a little girl. The officer placed his arm around her and kissed her head. Robby Rob shook his head; these pinheads were all trapped down here and no one was willing to try to get the hell out. He’d only been here a day and knew he couldn’t stay down here.

  Those lunatic white bastards had put him in this hole and told him that if he wanted to live, he had to work. There was no way he was going to work for those crazy crackers. A metal basket was coming down the shaft and he knew food was on its way. He stepped forward and shoved people out of the way.

  He reached the basket and was about to grab the food when he felt a hand on his arm. He turned and saw Officer Stroh. He looked down at the man’s hand on his arm and looked at the officer.

  “You’uns ain’t the po po here, Stroh, get your’uns hand offin my arm,” Robby Rob said, his face leaning in aggressively toward the other man.

  “You haven’t worked, and if you don’t work, you don’t eat. We all have to work down here, or they stop feeding us,” Stroh said.

  “You’uns ain’t the boss down here, officer, and I ain’t gotta listen ta you’uns,” Robby Rob snarled and jerked his arm out of Stroh’s grasp.

  “Yeah, he ain’t the boss, but you don’t eat, asshole, unless you put in a full day of work down here,” said a large black man, the breadth of his chest unreal. The man stepped forward, looming over Robby Rob, his huge ham-like fists resting on his hips.

  Robby Rob stepped back and looked around him. There were other men standing around now, glaring at him. Their faces were covered with coal dust and smeared with sweat. He could feel sweat prickling his head and warning bells blaring in his brain.

  “Well, why ain’t the women and young’uns workin’? Why is they just sittin’ round on their asses, doin’ nothin’?” Robby Rob asked belligerently.

  “Is you stupid, boy?” the giant asked him. “This is man’s work. Now git your scrawny ass down that tunnel and git to work, or I will beat you to death to save us all the trouble.”

  Robby Rob was shoved away from the food and pointed in the direction of the dark tunnel. He shoved his hands in his pocket, his brain racing. There was no way he wanted to work as those jackass’s slave. But he was hungry, and he knew those men wouldn’t let him eat if he didn’t work. He’d be damned if he’d let them work him like a mule. Maybe he could steal some food, take it from one of the kids or women. He’d have to think about it.

  Ӝ

  They called him Hercules, but David Colman hadn’t really minded. David had always been an easy-going man, until he wasn’t. It took a lot to get David’s temper going, but when it did get going, he was like a freight train and ran over whoever was making him mad.

  David had served just one tour in the army in Afghanistan. That had been enough for him. He’d come back to Beattyville, where he’d grown up. David had been a guard at the First National Bank on Main Street. He’d liked his job because he knew he intimidated people into minding their manners.

  The day the power went out, he’d helped lock the bank up and had gone home. His small apartment had been hot, since there was no power for air conditioning. He’d not known what happened but had hoped the power would come back on. He’d been sitting in a beach chair down at the pool with a few other residents. He’d had a beer with him, and everyone was just talking and laughing.

  Before anyone realized what was happening, a man had come up behind him and put a shotgun to his head. He’d been taken with another man, who was black as well, and they’d been taken to the coal mine. Along the way, he’d found out that the mayor and sheriff were responsible. David didn’t even know how long he’d been down here, as it was always dark.

  Slowly, other people began arriving in the same way: white and black folks. Everyone’s story was the same. Anyone white who tried to help a black or Hispanic was thrown down in the mine as well. David couldn’t believe this was going on in the new century. Hadn’t they all moved beyond this kind of hate?

  He’d heard stories from his father and grandfather, but at the age of thirty, nothing remotely like this had happened to him. Part of the reason was of his size: he was six-foot-six and two hundred ninety pounds. There weren’t many that messed with him.

  He’d been well liked at work, never a mean word said, or action. He had always been a thoughtful man, and had been raised to be careful because of his size. To have the hate that the men who’d captured him spewed in his direction was so shocking. In the military, there had never been any kind of racist talk. He knew it might have gone on, but, in the military, that got you kicked out. The military didn’t put up with that kind of horseshit.

  He’d been shocked at seeing women and children brought down. The mine was damp and cool. The air wasn’t too bad until you went deeper into the mine to work. There was a pregnant woman, Mary. He’d heard her husband had been a policeman and his own people had murdered him. David shook his head in sorrow. He’d made it his mission to ensure she was kept warm and well-fed. He’d met her neighbor, Gideon, and his family. Gideon had told David about how the men had handled Mary.

  David walked over to Mary, who was sitting bundled up. He had his helmet on with the light lit, and could see her. She had her mask over her face and he was glad to see it. He knew this air wasn’t good for any of them. Deeper in the mine was worse, what with the pockets of gas below.

  “They sent some breakfast down. I brought you some peaches, a boiled egg, and a hamburger bun,” David said, handing over the food.

  Mary smiled up at him and took the food. “Thank you, David. Did you eat something yourself?” she asked.

  “I will. I wanted
to make sure you had your breakfast first. Gideon is holding some eggs for me and a couple buns. He reached into his coveralls and pulled out a pint of milk. He saw her smile and returned it. “Figured I’d better get you this before they ran out. I’ll be heading down to work in a bit. Is there anything I can get you?” David asked

  “Oh David, thank you. You’re so kind to me. Thank you,” Mary said, her mouth trembling and her eyes tearing up.

  David reached over and patted her hand with his large one. “Mary, it’s nothing. We have to take care of each other. We’ll make it out of here, somehow, some way. You just stay healthy for you and your baby.” He stood up.

  “Thank you again, David. You’ll never know what it means to me and my baby, that you are here for us, you and Gideon and his family. It makes all this bearable,” Mary said, her voice soft.

  “We only have each other down here. We have to stick together. Get some rest if you can,” David said, and turned away, going to find Gideon and his breakfast.

  He was worried about Mary. If she had the baby down here, he was sure it wouldn’t survive. He and Gideon had been brainstorming, trying to think of a way to get a message out and to someone who’d help them. So far, nothing had come to mind.

  He joined Gideon and took his breakfast, popping an egg into his mouth. He was so hungry all the time. He knew he was losing weight. There were many mouths to feed, and he couldn’t bring himself to steal from another just to feel full. If things didn’t get better soon, people, especially the women and children, were going to start dying. David suspected that was their plan all along.

  Ӝ

  Harry had just come in from chopping wood. Though it was mid-summer, winter wasn’t that far off, and with no electricity, they’d need the wood for keeping the house warm and cooking. Willene didn’t want to use the propane during the winter. At least using the cook stove would also help heat the house.

  The farmhouse was large, with four bedrooms on the second story and two smaller bedrooms on the first floor. The rooms on the second story always stayed warm in the winter, as the heat from the fireplace in the living room rose to them.

  Earl was sitting on the swing on the porch with Monroe, snapping beans for Willene. She was going to make beans and potatoes with fried cornbread cakes for dinner, along with sliced tomatoes and fried rabbit that Boggy had caught this morning. Clay was in the rocking chair, having been helped there by Harry earlier.

  Katie was on watch. She was currently walking the perimeter; he’d seen her up past the chicken lot. He nodded to Clay and Earl, and patted Monroe on the head. Both dogs were asleep, Brian asleep at Clay’s feet. It was late afternoon, and the day was winding down. Marilyn had been working in the garden most of the day with Monroe, pulling weeds and picking beans and some tomatoes. It would be canning time soon.

  “Where are my beans?” Willene yelled through the house from the kitchen.

  “You’uns better take this mess of beans inside afor she skins our tails. She’s awaitin’ on ‘em,” Earl said, laughing, nudging the little boy. Monroe grinned a big gap-toothed grin, hopped off the swing, and took the bowl from Earl. Harry opened the screen door for the child and Monroe disappeared into the house.

  Harry sat beside Earl on the swing and brought out his pipe and lit it, puffing away until the bowl glowed. Boggy was out in the chicken lot gathering eggs and feeding the chickens. Harry looked over when he heard Marilyn coming from the kitchen, carrying a tray of sun tea and glasses. Harry jumped up and went to the screen door, holding it open for her. He smiled down at her, his eyes triangles with humor.

  “Thanks Harry, take a glass and pour you some,” Marilyn said, looking up and returning his smile.

  He noticed she blushed a little, and he grinned bigger. “Sure. Can I help with dinner?”

  “Oh Lord no, Willy told me how you are in the kitchen.” She laughed.

  Harry rolled his eyes, took a glass and filled it. He handed it to Clay, then filled one for Earl and one for himself. Katie came around the corner, the AR15 in her hands. Willene had given her a few lessons in using the AR15, though they couldn’t fire the weapon for fear of others knowing what they had. Willene had told him that she’d picked up fast on the training, and that she had a willingness to learn and defend them. Katie had insisted on being added to the watch rotation.

  “Come on and take a seat and rest for a few,” Harry said. He took a glass, filled it with tea, and handed it to her. She smiled up at him and took the proffered glass, then went over to sit by Clay and sipped.

  Marilyn headed back into the house as Monroe ran back out onto the porch. He went to Earl, who pulled the boy onto his lap. Harry’s smiled softly. Monroe was becoming very attached to Earl. He reached over and patted the child’s head once more, then grinned at Earl, who returned the grin.

  There was cool breeze blowing up the hill, the pungent fug of smoke riding on it. Though no one could see fires, they were there and had been going for over a week. No one spoke, enjoying the silence and the creaking of the swing and rockers. In the far distance, he heard a bobwhite calling. It was times like this that all was well with the world, even this new world. Deep in the trees, he could see lightning bugs starting to glow.

  Harry looked up and down the road below; he like the high vantage the house gave, here on the porch it was nearly a panoramic view. From his bedroom, he had an even better view. He kept his bedroom door locked since his rifle was permanently set up on a tripod pointed down the hill. He rocked slowly in the swing, and lifted his head when he spotted Alan’s truck coming down the road, heading toward the house. He got up and walked to the edge of the porch.

  “Looks like Alan is coming to pay us a visit. I’ll meet him down there” Harry said, and left the porch, heading down the hill at an easy gait.

  By the time Harry got down the hill, the truck was coming to a stop about fifty yards up the road. He squeezed through the barricade and walked toward the truck. He was shocked when Alan got out of the truck: the boy’s face was red, his eyes puffy from crying. The boy walked around the truck and opened the passenger-side door. He reached in and pulled something out.

  When Alan came around the truck, he was carrying a car seat with a baby strapped in. Harry was shocked and concerned. He walked quickly to the boy and took the car seat from Alan. He placed his arm around the thin teen’s shoulders and walked the boy to the house. The teen couldn’t speak, simply cried hard all the way.

  Katie got up and called Willene, who came out onto the porch. She walked over to Alan and put her arm around him, then walked him over the glider. Alan had started to cry even harder, and Harry handed over a clean handkerchief. The boy took it and brought it to his face, and tried to stifle the weeping.

  “My math teacher, Mr. Santo, an’ his wife an’ their son, Robert, was hung. Someone done did hung my friend. He’s only fifteen, he was younger than me,” Alan cried out, rocking back and forth, Katie rubbing his back. Everyone sucked in their breath at the shocking revelation.

  Willene took the baby from the car seat and held the child to her chest. She turned and went back into the kitchen.

  “I found this letter pinned to his momma’s dress. Just read it,” Alan said, handing over the wadded piece of paper. Harry took it and read it aloud.

  These Mexicans have polluted our town. Any Mexicans found will be treated the same. Only white people can come to our town. Stay the hell out or you die like these Mexicans.

  Alan’s face was painted in pale freckles, and his large square teeth bit into his lower lip. The soft down on his face met with the sporadic stubble on his chin, his face caving in on itself with grief. His short hair stood on end where he’d pulled on it in stress.

  “They ain’t Mexicans, they is Perta Ricin and they’s ’mericans like us.” He cried harder, and Katie pulled the lanky boy into her arms and held him. Harry could see the boy was badly shaken. He shook his head. His heart broke for the kid and the family.

  “That’s his lil
sister, Angela. They called her Angel, cuz she’s so sweet,” Alan said. He wiped his nose on the handkerchief, and then dug in his pocket. “I found this notice in town. I seen a bunch of ’em round town. I reckon you’uns should see em.” Alan handed the paper to Harry.

  Harry looked at the paper, then read it out loud, “Notice to all, there is a bounty on any non-white and non-Christian persons or families. Bring anyone who fits this description to the sheriff’s office and you will be paid in food and goods. Anyone helping these undesirables will be rounded up and put in jail. Penalties may include servitude or death. This town will not tolerate deception or hiding or protecting these people.”

  Harry’s lip curled in disgust and anger.

  “What is wrong with these people?” Marilyn asked, holding Monroe in her arms as she stood by the screen door.

  “Evil, that’s what they are. Lord have mercy, just evil,” Katie said, shaking her head. She looked round at the group through tear-filled eyes.

  “There must be something we can do,” Clay said, anger and grief lacing his voice.

  “I don’t know. I wish I did,” Harry said. He was frustrated, with no clear way to go. He felt like his hands were tied.

  “I heared from somma of my neighbors that they’d been puttin’ evera one an’ anyone in that thar coal mine. Womens an’ young’uns too, they’n puttin’ whole families down dem holes. An’ anyone who’s helpin’, they done did end up thar too,” Alan said.

  “Them thar mines ain’t no place fer young’uns an’ women. That coal dust gets everwere. It be dark as hell itse’f,” Boggy said, wiping his face with both his hands.

  “I’d juss soon be in hell wif my back broke than go back ta tha mine,” Earl said, shaking his head.

  “It’s a hard place fer certain,” Boggy agreed.

  “I gotta get back, an’ I caint come back cause I ain’t got much gas left, and iffin I’s kin find some gas, I’s’ull be back and I’’s’ull take down Mr. an’ Mrs. Santo and Robert, an I’ll burry em.” Alan said.