Red: The Adventure Begins

by Darrell Maloney

  There’s a phenomenon that can occur during a massive solar storm. If the storm is large enough, it can send electromagnetic pulses toward the earth. Those pulses can short out anything that runs on electrical power.”

  “Dad, please tell me it’s just temporary. That things will start working again once the solar storm has passed.”

  “No, honey. I’m sorry. If that’s what’s caused this, then it’s permanent.”

  He held her close before finishing.

  “And we’re all doomed.”

  Chapter 29

  Red talked her father into joining her and Rusty for a walk around the town square.

  As they walked out onto Main Street, they heard the unmistakable sound of a Polaris quad runner approaching quickly from the north.

  They stopped and turned their heads. It was the first powered vehicle they’d heard since the blackout.

  Other people, too, started to emerge from the other storefronts to check out the noise.

  “Oh, great,” Red exclaimed as the Polaris came into view. “It’s Crazy Eddie.”

  Crazy Eddie was Eddie Simms, a local eccentric who most of the town’s residents avoided at all costs. He was one of those types who’d carried “The End is Near” signs for many years and stockpiled food and water for a coming apocalypse.

  No one paid him much mind before.

  But now some were starting to wonder.

  He pulled his vehicle to a stop in front of the hardware store, within ten feet of where Butch and Red were standing.

  Then he dismounted and turned full circle in the street. He wanted all eyes to be on him as he cackled like an old witch.

  “You all thought I was crazy! Well, who’s crazy now? The rapture has come. God’s day of vengeance is here. The few who were good enough have gone into heaven, and it’s only us heathens and fornicators who are left. And guess what, you bastards? You can’t look down on me anymore. You and me is one and the same now!”

  One of the women in the crowd licked her dry lips and asked rather timidly, “What’s that you have in the back, there, Mr. Simms? It looks like water. Would you be willing to share?”

  Eddie cackled again.

  Then a look of pure hate crossed his face.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you, Mrs. Salazar? You always stuck your nose up at me. Crossed the street to avoid me when I came walking past. Went to church and gossiped to your friends about me. Did you think I didn’t know? Did you think I didn’t care?

  “I wasn’t good enough to know. Not good enough to talk to for the past fifteen years. But I’m good enough to share my damn water with you, now ain’t I?”

  He glared first at Mrs. Salazar, then at the rest of the crowd.

  Then he continued.

  “I heard that the pumps don’t work any more at the city water plant. That’s a damn shame. That means those of you what ain’t got your own wells are probably gettin’ a bit thirsty.

  “Well, I ain’t got a lick of sympathy for you.”

  He jabbed an accusatory finger in Mrs. Salazar’s direction.

  “You! All of you, every damn one, have treated me like crap for years. I tried to warn you. I tried to save you. I told you time and time again to prepare, because the end of the world was coming. Well now it’s here. And it looks like I’m the only one in this town that put stuff aside and got ready for it.

  “So I ask you again. Who’s crazy now?”

  Butch made a valiant effort to calm the man down.

  “Now Eddie, there’s no reason to make the situation worse than it is by calling people names.”

  Eddie looked at Butch.

  “I like you, Mr. Poston. You’re one of the few people in this town who gave me any respect. As for the name calling, it came from them. They’ve called me ‘crazy,’ and ‘freak,’ and ‘nutcase’ for years. Even taught their kids to taunt me. Do you know how it feels to walk down the street and get things thrown at you, and being called mean things by kids who ain’t even started school yet?”

  “No. No, I haven’t. And the way some in this town have treated you in the past is shameful without a doubt.

  “But now things have changed dramatically. The world is different. And none of us know what our future holds.

  “All I know is this, Eddie. We’re all in the same boat now. We’re in a situation where the hatred and animosity needs to stop. Where we need to work together to make sure everyone is taken care of.”

  Chapter 30

  Crazy Eddie listened to Butch’s plea, but was having none of it.

  “Screw that! I’ve waited too many years to get even with these heathens. I’ve planned and prepared and now I hold the best cards. And I’m damn sure not gonna fold my hand just because these people weren’t smart enough to do the same thing.”

  A man in the crowd offered, “Mr. Simms, I’ll gladly pay you for a case of your water. I’ll give you twice what you paid for it.”

  Eddie’s cackle returned.

  “You still think I’m crazy, don’t you Mr. Haggard? I’ll sell you the drinking water. And lots more of it. As much as you need. But the price is twenty dollars a bottle.”

  A murmur went through the crowd.

  Eddie continued.

  “And don’t try to give me any cash. Cash ain’t worth nothin’ anymore. I have bottled water, food and some medicine. But I will only accept gold or silver in exchange. And don’t try beggin’ either. I got no sympathy for you, just like you never had no sympathy for me. So beggin’ won’t work.”

  He looked around at the now-quiet crowd.

  “No takers, huh? Well, that’s okay. A couple more days and you’ll be a little more desperate and a little more willin’. Y’all know where to find me. Last house on Pine Street, a quarter mile past the 7-Eleven.”

  “Wait! Mr. Simms!”

  Crazy Eddie turned to see an aged woman, probably eighty years old. He recognized her as his old elementary school teacher, Miss Harper.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “What if we have no gold or silver?”

  “Now, Miss Harper, don’t play me for a fool. Every little old lady I’ve ever met has a drawer full of silver forks and spoons and such. And every woman I’ve ever met has a jewelry box full of necklaces and the like.

  “Gold and silver. It don’t matter much to me whether it’s silverware, jewelry, bullion or coins. Bring me whatever you got, and we’ll negotiate.”

  With that, he climbed back on his Polaris, made a tight u-turn and roared back off down the street, cackling all the way.

  Red asked her father, “Now how in heck do you think he got that thing running again?”

  Butch said, “I don’t know, honey. But I sure would like to find out.”

  The crowd still hadn’t dispersed. Moreover, the townspeople had grown angry. Not at the situation at hand, but rather at Eddie Simms. If anyone had had a rope, they might have lynched the man from the old hanging tree on the town square.

  Butch tried to calm the crowd by raising both hands.

  “Hey, can I get everybody’s attention here for just a minute?”

  A couple of men walked off in disgust. The rest of the heads turned.

  Butch said, “Let’s give Eddie a day to think about how he’s acting. I’ll go over there tomorrow with Pastor Jenkins and try to talk some sense into him. In the meantime, you all know where my home is. I’ve got a good well with plenty of water, and a windmill to pump it. Y’all are welcome to bring your containers and take as much as you need.”

  He turned to Mrs. Salazar and motioned to her to come over.

  “You look like you’re dreadfully thirsty, dear. Wait here while I feel my way in the dark to my office refrigerator. I’ve got a few bottles you can take with you.”

  “God bless you, sir.”

  After he fetched the water, Butch and Red pushed Rusty’s stroller down Main Street’s sidewalk toward the square.

  Headed in the other direction on the same sidewalk was a t
all man with black wavy hair peeking out from under a black Stetson. He tipped his hat at Red, who offered a polite nod in response.

  Butch said, “I’ve never seen him before. Did you know him?”

  “No, not at all.”

  But the stranger certainly knew them.

  Jesse Luna had arrived in town the day before the blackout, and was staying in Mrs. Montgomery’s boarding house at the edge of town.

  He told her he was in town looking at real estate so that he and his wife could escape city life and retire in a more peaceful place.

  Since his arrival, Luna had been keeping a low profile and trying to stay out of sight as much as possible.

  He certainly never imagined he’d stumble across his prey while walking down Main Street.

  But it didn’t matter. No one could connect them later, other than a chance encounter on the street. Hell, he walked past hundreds of people each and every day. That was certainly no evidence of his involvement should one of those people get murdered.

  And besides, if what people were starting to say was true, and the world had gone to hell…

  He hoped that wasn’t the case, but if it were, it was entirely unlikely that anyone would investigate his future crimes anyway.

  He’d continue to demand big bucks for them, though. He was many things. But he wasn’t a fool.

  Luna walked up the street and sat under a shade tree, directly across from the First Bank of Blanco.

  John Savage’s bank.

  He reached into his pocket and removed a pack of Dentyne gum, then began chewing a stick.

  And he waited.

  After almost an hour, he hadn’t seen anyone enter the bank.

  He figured that anyone in the bank when he walked up had plenty of time to conclude whatever business they had and leave.

  He was, therefore, fairly certain that Savage was in the bank alone.

  Luna walked across the street and stepped into the bank’s doors, which had been propped open to let some fresh air in.

  “Hello, Mr. Savage. Remember me?”

  Chapter 31

  Savage looked around nervously, then realized rather foolishly that there was no one in the darkened bank to see the two of them together.

  He’d pushed a secretary’s desk into the middle of the lobby, where there was just enough sunlight streaming through the windows to let him read his paperwork.

  “Of course, Mr. Luna. Please have a seat.”

  Luna sat in one of the two chairs Savage had placed in front of the desk.

  “I’d offer you something cold to drink, but cold is a little hard to find. I heard a rumor you were in town.”

  “Yes. I got in a couple of days ago.”

  “Do you have any idea what’s going on out there?”

  “None at all. My cell’s not working. Neither is my rental car. From overhearing some of your town’s residents, everybody else is feeling the same pain.”

  “I’ve heard rumors it’s not just us. It’s worldwide. And it’s irreversible.”

  “Where’d you hear that from?”

  “A couple of preppers that live here in town. They came to visit this morning. Said they had a ham radio and were talking to other preppers around the world.

  “If they’re to be believed, everything that is electronic or electric is fried. So is anything that had a battery.”

  “Did they say what caused it?”

  “Something about solar flares or something.”

  “I’m not sure I buy that, Mr. Savage. I just saw an old coot driving a quad runner up your main drag out here a few minutes ago. I’m fairly certain it has a battery hooked to it.”

  “The Cullens… they’re the preppers, said it’s possible to get a vehicle running if it doesn’t have a complicated electrical system. If you protected the right replacement parts or the whole vehicle, that is.”

  “Protected them how, exactly?”

  “They didn’t say.”

  “Did they say whether they had any vehicles running themselves?”

  “Yes. They told me they had a pickup that runs. But they parked it outside of town and walked in to keep from getting stampeded by people needing rides to other places.”

  “Pretty smart of them.

  “You know, Mr. Savage, this blackout… or whatever the hell it is… this changes everything.”

  “How so?”

  “The old coot on the quad runner. He mentioned something about the dollar being worthless now.”

  “Yeah. The Cullens were saying the same thing.”

  “Well, you’re a banker. Does what they’re saying make sense?”

  “Yes. The whole monetary system, from the Federal Reserve to the U.S. treasury to the stock market to the individual banks like mine, all need computer systems to keep track of the money. If the computers are all dead and won’t be coming back, then the dollar bills in your pocket are worth no more than toilet paper.”

  “Okay. So I’ll take the hit on the down payment you gave me. I’ll chalk it up to the price of doing business. But to continue with our arrangement, you’ll have to pay me in silver or gold bullion. Are you prepared to do that?”

  Savage laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Your timing is perfect. I have some bullion of my own, but not enough to cover your bill. But it just so happened that’s what the Cullens came to see me about. They’ve been hoarding gold and silver for years as part of their preparations for doomsday. Now that doomsday is here, they needed a safe place to put it. They rented a safe deposit box from me to put it in.”

  “And what will they do when they come back to retrieve it, and it’s gone?”

  “Well, I was hoping that while you’re in town anyway, I could make another deal with you.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “The Cullens have lived outside of Blanco for thirty years or better. They’re pretty well off. Well off enough to be able to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars over the years on doomsday supplies. Dry stock like beans and rice. Dried meats. Canned and jarred vegetables. Stuff that will be worth a fortune on the black market.”

  “Still listening.”

  “My plan is simple, really. You’re here anyway. You’re already going to help several people have accidents. What’s two more? Bill and Joanie Cullen go away, and they have no living relatives to inherit everything. I forge paperwork to show that they were six months behind on their mortgage payments, and foreclose on their ranch. And everything located thereon. It’s a beautiful idea.”

  “Only two flaws in your plan. Number one, I’m not in the black market game. And number two, I don’t plan to hang around. After the original job we agreed to, I’m hightailing it out of here.”

  “Okay, then, how about this: You do the job. You and I look at their stores and estimate what they’re worth. I’ll pay you in gold for your half. And you can have their pickup to do your hightailing.”

  “Now you’re talking. You say it’s just the two of them?”

  “Yep. No kids or other living relatives.”

  “Okay. Give me directions to their house. And if we find any more precious metals on the property, we split it fifty-fifty.”

  “Agreed.”

  Savage took a yellow sticky note from a pad on his desk, then slipped it across the table to Luna.

  “One stipulation. If I do this guy and his wife, I get half the gold and silver bullion they left in your vault. Agreed?”

  Savage wasn’t surprised at Luna’s greed. After all, they were cast from the same mold.

  “Okay,” he reluctantly said. “After the job is done.”

  “Same conditions as before. I choose the time and the place. Once the deed is done, I’ll let you know and we can meet to divvy up the goods.”

  He laughed out loud, then added, “Hell, I may even do them first. That’ll give me a place to stay until I do the other job.”

  “Where are you staying now?”

  “At a boarding house.
It’s run by a little old lady named Montgomery. She and her nosy questions are driving me crazy.”

  Chapter 32

  The little town of Blanco, Texas, settled into a routine of sorts in the days and weeks following the blackout.

  In the morning, at sunrise, about ten or so men would ride into town on horseback and meet at the courthouse pavilion. They were volunteers to the last man, and experienced horsemen.

  The men would set out and ride several miles along nearby Highway 281, until they came to a stalled eighteen wheeler with “Walmart” painted on its side.

  There they would rummage through the pallets of goods on the back of the truck looking for anything that might be of value to the townspeople.

  Beans, rice, or other dry stock.

  Dried vegetables or beef jerky.

  Medications or medical supplies.

  Even things like toilet paper, coffee and feminine products.

  Each day the process was the same. They passed anything of value they came across to the back of the truck and piled it on the highway.

  When they had enough to fill up the backpacks they wore, and the saddlebags the horses carried, they loaded up and set out for home.

  Word had been passed around town that all the residents should meet at the courthouse pavilion at five p.m. each day.

  Judge Dan Moore, one of the most honest and trusted of the town’s residents, ran the proceedings.

  “Okay, the next item is dried lima beans. We have six one pound bags. Who needs ‘em?”

  Three hands went up.

  “Okay. Pat, it’s just you and Sally. You take one bag. John, you’re on your own. You take one bag. Marty and Sue, since you have a whole mess of little ones, you take the other four.

  “The next item is ten boxes of Kraft macaroni and cheese. Who needs ‘em?”

  The process continued until all the items brought back from the truck that day were distributed.

  Then Judge Moore asked the group, “Anybody got any special requests for tomorrow’s run?”