Destination Ruin

by Norman Christof

  "Yeah, I think so. Sure as hell sounded like them. We've gotta get out of here. Can you move now?"

  "Yeah, I'm pretty sure. We don't have much of a choice. If those yahoos are shooting instead of punching now, I'd rather avoid them completely."

  "Agreed."

  This time, they helped each other get to their feet. Neither one of them was very sturdy standing alone, but with each other's help, they had someone to lean on. They started hobbling down the street, as quickly as they could possibly go. It looked like a three-legged race, but not in the fun sort of way. This was serious, deadly serious. All of a sudden, just as they were getting into the rhythm of moving this way, Garrett's leg gave out, and they crashed onto the sidewalk. Holly tumbled after him, nearly smacking her head on the sidewalk.

  "What the hell," Holly said. "Did you trip over something?"

  "I don't think so," Garrett said, "but my leg hurts like hell. It wasn't sore before, but now it feels like it's on fire."

  Holly ran a hand over it till she felt a bump part way between the knee and shin on his right leg. Garrett winced in pain and grabbed her hand, pulling it away.

  "Sorry," Holly said as she started to gingerly roll his pant cuff up. It didn't take long till they could see where the pain was coming from. There was a piece of bone poking out of Garrett's leg.

  "You just did that with the fall? How could that happen?"

  "No, it must've been from before, when those guys were beating us up. I just didn't notice it before what with all the adrenaline, not till we started moving together."

  "We've got to find some cover. This is bad. Really bad, but if those guys find us still alive, who knows what the hell they'll do."

  "Let's try this next street over."

  They moved slower now, hugging close to the buildings, under awnings and in whatever shadows they could find. It was daylight, and hiding was hard. But eventually they made their way down a couple of blocks and found an old grocery store. Garrett was looking for something to break the glass door, but as luck would have it, it wasn't locked. Holly just opened the door.

  The place had been heavily ransacked. But at least it gave them some cover and maybe if they rummaged around enough, they'd find some supplies.

  It was one of those all-in-one grocery stores that carried a lot more than just food. The pharmacy looked the worst. Even Band-Aids were hard to find. They did manage to find clothes though, and then some duct tape in the hardware section. At least it was enough to cover their cuts and wounds. They also found some distilled water to wash them out. Making a splint for Garrett's leg was a little trickier. They ended up breaking down some of the shelving and using some plastic rods and duct tape to set his leg so he could move easier.

  There wasn't much food left. Lots of crackers and cereals, but not many canned goods.

  "What do you think?" Holly asked. "There's not much for us here, and I haven't heard gunshots for a while."

  "At least we'll be safe in here for a while. There's not much chance they'll come in this place looking for us. Given that there's nothing left around here to steal anymore. And it's not like they're hunting for us. Just stumbling upon them would be bad luck, given that they think we're lying dead in the street. We should just wait them out here. Maybe a little longer."

  "You don't want to go back to the lifeboat, do you?" Holly gave him that look like she knew exactly what he was thinking. Garrett didn't answer and hoped that she'd just drop the subject. Fat chance of that happening. "We're going to need help. You're injured, and that leg is going to need some proper attention. I know you think that it's more important that we just get the hell out of here and find Becky, but I still believe that's not for the best. The tougher things get around here, the more important it is that we have people around us we can trust. That's our best chance for survival."

  Garrett tried to stand and test out his new splint but found it awkward. "Damn. I don't think I can walk with this thing."

  "Look, I know you think you know what's best here, but I'm not so sure either one of us does. This is a completely different situation. We've got to figure it out together. OK? Please, just listen to what I'm saying. At least think about it."

  "I have, believe me." Garrett lowered himself to sit on a stool. "Those people all have a different agenda. They've all got family they want to get back to. We can't just keep hoping that they're going to help us."

  "I know that. But at least for now, let's try it my way, OK? At least till we can get that leg looked at. We'll be lucky to make it back to the lifeboat at this point, let alone find our daughter traipsing across the country."

  Garrett reluctantly agreed to her request. It made sense, and there was logic to what she was saying. His leg hurt like hell, and he wasn't sure how far he'd get with it at the moment. This wasn't a battle he was going to win. So he decided to do what Holly suggested. They made their way to the back of the grocery store, looking for a back door into a quieter street where they could serendipitously make their way back.

  Chapter 8 ~ Wild West

  Holly and Garrett made their way through the back of the store and a storage room that surprisingly was still pretty well stocked. Apparently, the looters who had ransacked the store weren't all that concerned or were in too much of a hurry to deal with the door out back. There were still plenty of supplies stocked on racks that would be useful.

  "Are you worried?" Holly asked. "I mean, about Becky, that is. It's been a while and who knows what could be going on where she is."

  Garrett was doing his best to get used to hobbling around with the makeshift splint. It wasn't easy and pretty awkward to start with. He had a feeling, though, that if he stuck with it, it would get easier. He was barely paying attention to what Holly was saying. She got a little agitated.

  "Did you hear me? I asked about your daughter Becky. I'm really worried with her all alone up there in New York. Given the situation, it can't be good."

  "Becky's a resourceful kid. She's smart too, just like her parents. She makes friends pretty easily, and I'm sure she's not alone. At least that's not what I choose to believe. There'll be people there, and they'll stick together. Young people are pretty good at bonding that way. I'm sure she'll get in with a good group of them, and they'll figure something out. She's smart and makes good choices. We did raise her right, didn't we?"

  Holly didn't say anything, so Garrett took that as agreement. They found the back door of the storeroom and threw the latch, opening it cautiously. It emptied into a backstreet alleyway that seemed to be relatively quiet. At least quieter than what they'd had to deal with so far. They walked into the alleyway, looking in either direction and not seeing anyone.

  "You remember the way back to the boat?" Holly said.

  "Yes." Garrett indicated towards the east. It's gotta be that way."

  They walked for a few minutes in silence, making their way through streets that now began to look familiar. They stuck to the back roads so to speak, in hopes that they wouldn't be noticed. There were occasionally people in buildings they could see through the windows, but none of them tried to interact with them.

  Holly decided to change topics. Garrett didn't seem to too interested in talking about Becky at the moment. On the outside, he seemed quite assured that she was fine and should be doing OK, but Holly knew Garrett better than that. You don't raise a young child into adulthood without learning a thing or two about your partner.

  Garrett would put on a good show, he always did. He wasn't one to show any fear or concerns lurking inside him. He did it partially to reassure himself, but Holly always believed he did it to reassure her as well. She wondered if he really knew how little it worked on her and if he'd still do it if he did. Probably, he would. Old habits are hard to break.

  "So how's that splint working out?"

  Garrett was focused hard on walking in a straight line, in spite of the fact the splint made it difficult to flex his knee.

  "I feel like a pirate with a peg leg. Which
would be kind of cool, I suppose, if I was in a Disney movie." He forced a smile.

  "Well, at least you're trying to be funny. I'll take that as a good thing."

  Garrett smiled a little, still focusing hard on keeping one foot in front of the other. "Well, it's a start, I suppose. I did come off a cruise ship full of plenty of wannabe pirates."

  "Wannabe pirates? What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Oh well, you know I never understood what the point was of buying an overpriced ticket to sit in one of those floating cities out in the middle of nowhere. It's like paying money for someone to torture you."

  "Oh come on now, you're just sore you're not stuck in some dirty little stream smelling like fish."

  They smiled at one another, acknowledging Garrett's love of fishing and his total lack of sense of smell.

  "That would be a better situation than this, don't you think?"

  Holly decided to take the high road and not answer that question.

  The further they walked through the city, the more people they started to see. It was hard to avoid the main streets for too long, given that they were heading towards the beach. It has to be close now, Holly thought, she couldn't remember walking this far when they left looking for supplies. There had of course been a few detours along the way

  "Oh I don't know, I always wanted to come to Atlantic City one day. I guess I finally got here."

  "Careful what you wish for I guess, right?" Garrett grimaced as his splinted leg stumbled over the pavement. It was almost like learning how to walk again.

  "We're close. I can smell the ocean from here."

  "Wow, you can finally smell it now?" Holly answered sarcastically.

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "You never did have much of a sense of smell; you know that, right?"

  "Yeah, OK, whatever. The point is we're almost there."

  "I know. Not long now."

  They could see small groups of people huddled together on the beach. People still gravitated towards the beach. There was something about being near the water that seemed to make everyone feel better, no matter what the situation.

  "I can see the lifeboat now," Holly said. "It's hard to make out many people there though. Weren't there more of us when we left?"

  "I don't know; it's hard to remember. It's been a crazy day."

  There was, though, a large crowd of people between them and the lifeboat. Quite a big crowd actually. The closer they got, the more agitated the crowd seemed to be. There were people yelling and shouting and a few pushing each other. Both Holly and Garrett looked for a way around, without any luck. They didn't want to retrace their steps and risk running into the same crew they'd run into already.

  Taking each other's hand, they walked towards the crowd, hoping to work their way around them without being noticed. Hand in hand, at least it reduced their chances of being separated in the crowd.

  As they came closer, they realized the mob was encircling a smaller group of individuals. There were four men on their knees, with their hands behind their backs. Those encircling the group seemed to be a mix of curious gawkers and reluctant spectators. Whatever was in the center of the circle had the crowd quite agitated. It had a bit of Roman Coliseum energy to it.

  Holly picked up her pace, trying to get past the crowd as quickly as possible, but Garrett couldn't keep up. At first Holly thought he was stalling, just to see what was going on in the crowd, but soon realized that his leg splint was making it awkward for him. It was coming loose and not giving him the support that it had when they first left the store. It was getting more difficult for him to keep up with her.

  "Come on, Garrett; we don't want to be waiting here for whatever is going on. I don't like the feeling I'm getting from this group; the sooner we get away from it, the better. It brings back some bad memories."

  "It's them." Garrett pulled her back. This time it wasn't the leg slowing him down; he had planted himself and was craning his neck to see past the crowd. "It's the four that had us. With the baseball bat and the golf club. Those are the four men on their knees there."

  It was harder for Holly to see, given that she was just a little shorter than Garrett, but she reluctantly stood on her tiptoes to get a better look. She didn't want to seem overly aggressive, but she managed to coax a few taller people out of the way to get a better view. The look on her face was at first shock, then fear followed by disgust.

  "What's going on?" she said quietly to Garrett. "Those are the guys for sure. How'd they end up in this mess?"

  "I have no idea, but this doesn't look good for them."

  An older man in the crowd overheard their conversation in spite of their attempt to be quiet. The crowd was cheering and chanting something unintelligible, forcing Garrett and Holly to speak a little louder than they'd prefer.

  The old man answered the question. "They're thugs and thieves. They deserve what they're getting. Rodney caught them beating a dog to death earlier. They'll get justice.

  Holly and Garrett both grimaced at the description the old man gave. It didn't seem right. They inched closer into the crowd as it became apparent that they weren't in any danger from the onlookers. Halfway into the mob, they had a clear view of what was going on in the middle of the circle.

  The men looked like they'd already been through a beating. Their clothes were in tatters, and they were bloodied and bruised. Around the four men was an inner ring of a dozen or so men and women. Some older, but some as young as teenagers. They brandished a variety of firearms. Handguns, shotguns, a few semiautomatics and some highly customized guns that were hard to categorize.

  The biggest man in the inner ring seemed to be the one in charge. He was big and clean-cut. Around six foot three and muscular, he looked like an NFL football player. He had a belt with multiple weapons, two different handguns and a few ammunition clips. They could just barely make out what he was saying over the noise of the crowd.

  "You men have been found guilty and will now receive your punishment. Do any of you have anything to say before your sentence is carried out?"

  "What should we do?" Holly asked, looking to Garrett. "They look like they're going to execute them."

  At first Garrett didn't answer. He was processing, trying to figure out what could possibly be their next move. He wasn't coming up with answers very quickly, but he didn't seem concerned.

  "Garrett? What are you doing?"

  His jaw clenched as he fought to process the situation. "We can't. We can't really do anything, can we?" It was a rhetorical question; Holly didn't answer. "These are the same bastards that damn near killed us. They left us for dead in the streets. And now they're beating animals? It may be horrific, but it could be justice as well. Who knows how many other innocent people these guys have abused."

  Holly was shocked. "These aren't policemen, they have no authority to act in this way. They're just regular, ordinary people. Can't you see that?"

  "I have no idea who they are. But have you taken a look around you? This is mob justice. It's like Old West vigilantism. This is not our place, and even if it was, we can't overpower this crowd."

  "So you're going to just stay and watch?" Holly looked back to the middle of the circle and could see that the four men were saying something. It was impossible to make out their words as the noise from the crowd grew even louder. "This is barbarism. This isn't justice. I don't care what those men did, even if it was to us. We're still alive, albeit a little more broken." Her eyes locked on Garrett's. "Lock them up. Throw them in jail, but you can't just be executing people in the street. My God, what's happened to our country?"

  They were getting strange looks now from the people around them who could hear the conversation. None of them spoke up, but you could see some of them pull away from Holly and Garrett. They were being identified as outsiders, it seemed, by just the simple body language of moving away.

  "You need to keep your voice down, Holly. There's nothing we can do here. It's not our town,
and they are not our people. The world has changed, and the two of us aren't going to do anything about that, at least not in this situation."

  Garrett motioned to the people around them to try to get Holly to notice that they were being eyed suspiciously. Holly looked around her and then pulled closer to Garrett. She was smart enough to know a bad situation when she saw one.

  "It just seems wrong." She was whispering now, to the point that even Garrett could barely hear what she said.

  The man in the middle of the circle, the one who seemed to be in charge, picked up a baseball bat and a golf club one in each hand. The same ones that the men had used violently against Holly and Garrett. It looked like he was going to use them against the men on their knees. One of them tried to move away, crawling and flinching as the big man drew closer. One of the other armed guards pushed the prisoner back into position. They were clearly outnumbered and outgunned; there was no way they were escaping whatever the man in the middle wanted to do.

  "You men use these crude weapons designed for pleasure and leisure against innocents. It would seem completely just if I used them against you. Is there anyone in the crowd that would disagree?" The man looked around at the others encircling him. Most remained silent, but quite a few nodded their heads, and a few called out, "Give them what's coming! They don't deserve to live! Do it!"

  The big man stood in the middle of the circle, now surrounded by the four men on their knees. He turned slowly, pointing the club at each one of them in turn, poking them or gently tapping them on the side of the head. Sadly, it appeared the four men had few options. Then, suddenly, the big man left the circle of criminals. He made his way through the larger crowd, who parted to give him space.

  The four men on their knees seemed relieved, as if they'd received a death row pardon at the eleventh hour. Two of them were crying; you could make out tears streaming down their face even from a distance. One of them seemed stalwart and unmoved though. His expression was blank and solemn, defiant to the last. He refused to show any emotion, good or bad.