by Jim Heskett
“There are some things you should know before you go out there. First, the president is dead.”
Gavin gasped.
“That’s not all, though. Wall Street isn’t really a thing anymore, and the internet has been… well, it’s basically been turned off.”
“Turned off? How can the internet be turned off?”
“That’s the best I can guess, because there’s no way to know, right? Can’t exactly Google if the internet is still working, can I?” He cackled, and the eerie high-pitched quality of the laugh made Gavin shudder.
“How do you know the president is dead if you can’t get online to verify it?”
“Oh, that’s the best part,” the guard said as he opened the doors and stepped outside.
What Gavin saw didn’t make any sense. Dozens of prison guards and inmates on their sides and backs around the yard. Some of them surrounded by pools of blood. In the distance, maybe a couple miles, an enormous column of smoke rose into the sky. Looked like the town of Brent, or maybe Centreville.
“My cell phone was working, up until an hour ago. My wife saw it on TV. She called me as some guys in black uniforms raided the house.”
He took the shotgun and rested the butt on the ground. “I got to listen to them kill her and my son before the phone went dead. ‘We’re sorry, the subscriber you’re trying to reach has been murdered by militia members or the US Government, or some-fucking-body.’”
The guard held out the shotgun to Gavin. “Take it.”
Gavin gripped the barrel of the gun as the guard took a knife from a sheath on his belt. “The world’s going to hell, reporter. Maybe they lied to us once, but it sure-as-shit is the end of days now. Good luck out there, because you’ll be dead like the rest of us soon enough.”
He dragged the knife across his neck, which opened like a sliced tomato, oozing juice. A line of red filled the opening, then gushed out as the guard fell to his knees.
Gavin jumped back and the shotgun clattered to the ground. Words couldn’t describe the confusion rattling his brain and thundering through his veins.
He reached over and picked up the shotgun. Looked at the destruction and bodies around him. His eyes switched between the gate and the door back into the prison.
“What the hell is going on?” he whispered to the outside world.
He gripped the shotgun to his chest, then walked back into the prison to check on Connor.
Kaboom Stuff
(BEFORE THE FALL)
Mitchell and Alec made Dave wait in the truck while they stepped out to meet the guy. Dave occupied himself by watching the sun set over the mountains behind Castle Rock. Not as good as the sunset from Golden or the rooftop of a Denver apartment building, but nothing to complain about, either.
They’d parked the truck in a barren parking lot behind the old shut-down Kroger, and met a short Hispanic man who drove a shoddy Toyota Camry. The odd part was that Alec despised Mexicans, so the deal must have meant a lot of money. Otherwise, Alec would just as soon smack the guy in the head and take his car.
The guy had scraggly facial hair and a lazy eye, which seemed to be pointed at Dave in the truck, but he couldn’t be sure. He did his best not to stare back. Could tell right away this guy didn’t know what he was doing, and it was probably his first heroin deal ever. Got a buddy on the police force stole some from evidence, or whatever. Not that anybody actually believed those stories. But wherever it came from, what did it matter? Seized-evidence heroin sold as well as the rest of it.
His phone buzzed. New text from Isabelle:
Stop thinking about me.
He grinned and wrote back:
I totally wasn’t thinking about you just now. You were way off.
A few seconds later, her reply:
Are you going to come down to the springs and see me tonight?
Dave sighed as he watched the Hispanic shake hands with Mitchell and they rounded the back of his Camry. Popped the trunk. Dave couldn’t see what was happening behind the raised trunk lid, which he didn’t like so much. Bad things happened with Mitchell and Alec whenever Dave let them out of his sight. They were like pre-teens with overpowered firecrackers.
He texted Isabelle:
For sure. I have a load to deliver next week, but I want to see you as much as possible before I have to leave.
Two minutes later, the trunk lid shut and Mitchell emerged with a giant suitcase in his arms. The thing weighed him down so much that Mitchell had to arch his back. How much skag could this guy have sold them?
Alec shook the Hispanic’s hand and they both came back to the car. The Camry’s engine revved and Dave could practically smell the burning rubber of the tires as it raced out of the parking lot.
Alec and Mitchell hoisted the suitcase into the back of the truck. Dave felt the back end drag down, and the mystery of what was back there burned at him.
He got out of the car and slid into the back seat as Alec jumped into the driver’s seat and Mitchell into the passenger’s.
“Guy’s kinda jumpy, huh?” Dave said.
“Fucking wetback,” Alec said. “On and on about his daughter in Oklahoma and how he’s doing all of this for her. He wasn’t happy about you being here, though. I told him it was only going to be me and Mitch, so he was ready to bounce when he saw you in the truck.”
“Wait,” Dave said. “What’s that about his daughter? He’s selling skag for his daughter?”
“Nope,” Mitchell said. “Not skag, bro. C-4. Kaboom stuff.”
***
As they drove back to Denver, Dave had so many questions, he didn’t even know where to start. Alec and Mitchell didn’t seem to want to talk, either. Alec blasted some music and Mitchell started rapping freestyle any time an instrumental break came on.
When they got to Alec’s house, they all got out, and Alec still didn’t talk. He rounded the truck and helped Mitchell lift the suitcase. Grunting and swearing, they carried it inside. Dave followed.
Inside, Mitchell cleared off space on the coffee table, and they put the suitcase there, between the bong and a collection of Chinese food boxes. Alec unzipped the bag and flipped it open. Inside were packages wrapped in brown paper that looked a lot like bricks of heroin.
Alec grabbed a package and tore at the paper.
“Jesus Christ! Shouldn’t you be careful with that?”
“Easy, Dave. It can’t hurt you without a detonator. I’ve been reading all about it online and got this totally under control. I know what I’m doing here.”
“Okay, that’s great, but what are we doing with it?”
“Let me tell you a story,” Mitchell said. “Me and Alec have decided to branch out into a new line of business, to open up some new revenue streams. We haven’t had much chance to tell you about it since you been spending all your time inside that chick from Colorado Springs.”
Dave blushed. He hadn’t wanted to, but the guys always gave him so much grief about Isabelle. At least it was better than smiling whenever her name came up, like some stupid lovesick teenager.
“The world is changing,” Alec said. “If this meteor hits us like those fuckers on Fox News are saying it will, we got to get ours while we still can. Terrorists blow up shit all the time, so it’s not like saying no to this guy is going to stop anything from happening, feel me? So we might as well get in on it. Plus, you have no idea how much this dude is paying us to fit these blocks with detonators and help him install them at the site.”
Alec paused to bark out a laugh. “This son of a bitch,” he said, pointing at Mitchell, “Met that wetback online and told him he was a demolitions expert.”
Dave closed his eyes and tried to ignore the racial slur. “You tricked some dude with access to a bunch of C-4 into thinking you’re a demolitions expert? Do you know how crazy that sounds?” Dave then replayed the last bit Alec had said. “Install what at the site?”
Alec stopped handling the explosives and gave Dave his full attention. “Dave, I don�
�t know if you’re going to be into this or not, but we’ve got a job here. A big job, the kind that will make us all crazy rich. And not in cash. Gold. Real gold.”
“And what is the job?”
“We’re going to blow up the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs.”
***
As Dave drove down to Colorado Springs to see his girlfriend, too much went through his mind to catalog. The world was possibly going to end. Thinking about it seemed surreal, like something he couldn’t even fathom. Maybe the meteor would only hit the ocean, but that would kill all the fish, and the world would end anyway. Just take longer.
There had already been rioting in California. Seemed like they’d seen the worst of it, but it wasn’t roses and chocolate in Colorado. He’d counted at least four or five times the usual number of cops on the highways in the last few days, and that kind of added paranoia tinted the world. Checkout girls at the convenience stores no longer smiled. People didn’t pay as much attention to their Facebook and Twitter accounts. Even Dave had gone weeks without posting an update, which used to be a daily occurrence.
So maybe what Alec and Mitchell were planning wasn’t a big deal, in the grand scheme of things. It wouldn’t matter in a few months, anyway. And if the Hispanic guy actually delivered the gold, having that might come in handy, especially if the economy collapsed and paper money became worthless. That was a real possibility.
But blow up an entire campus full of people? He could hardly believe he was having this conversation with himself. Doing something like this was a moral ground Dave had never thought he would have to breach. Tomorrow, he’d speak to Alec, and persuade them to drop this crazy plan.
Isabelle greeted him at the door with a kiss and a glass of rum and coke. She was wearing shorts and a t-shirt with a cloth bow tied around her waist. He didn’t much feel like unwrapping the present tonight.
***
He didn’t tell Isabelle about the plan because he started to doubt Alec and Mitchell would even go through with it. But the next day when he pulled up to Alec’s house, he intended to have a serious talk with them about it. He’d do that, then get his rig ready to drive to Tampa and unload a few tons of baby wipes. The world was ending, but baby’s asses still needed wiping, apparently.
Alec was sitting on the front porch of his house, drinking a 40 ounce sheathed in a paper bag. Next to him was a card table littered with dominoes and an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts and joint roaches. Alec pointed to the chair opposite the table. “Sit down, Dave.”
Dave sat. “Did you want to slap some bones or something?”
Alec sipped his 40 and scowled at him. “Where did you go when you left here last night?”
“I went to see my girlfriend. Why?”
Alec sighed and sat back. “That’s what I figured. You didn’t tell her anything about that package we picked up yesterday, did you?”
Dave shook his head, but Alec didn’t reduce his icy stare. “I would have thought you understood the shit we talked about was totally top secret.”
“I didn’t tell her anything. Why would I tell her anything?”
“Well,” Alec said, “I got to thinking about it. Your chick is in C-Springs, and the Air Force Academy is in C-Springs, maybe you went down there to warn her to get out of town.”
Dave knew he should have protested loudly, but the words caught in his throat.
“This is going to happen,” Alec said, “whether you want it to or not.”
“Where’s Mitchell?”
“Mitch is running an errand for me. He’s going to make sure that the plan for tonight doesn’t have any problems when we meet up with Hector.”
Panic struck Dave’s chest. “Where is he?”
“He’s going to get your girlfriend and put her somewhere until this is over. To make sure you do your part.”
Dave sat bolt upright, panic swiveling into anger. “Listen to me, you motherfucker–”
“Whoa, buddy, this is all your fault. We’re doing what we have to do to make sure everything works out the way it’s supposed to. You understand that, right?”
Despite the shock running through him, he’d always expected Alec the sociopath to do something like this.
“She’s going to be fine,” Alec said. “All you have to do is meet us tonight, then help us with the job, and then everything is gravy. C’mon, it’ll all work out.”
***
Dave and Alec drove to Colorado Springs in silence as the sun set in shades of orange and purple behind the mountains to the west. No word about where Mitchell was. They turned off the highway and pulled into Peregrine Pines FamCamp, some kind of campgrounds near the academy. They parked the car in front of a small wooden building at the edge of the camp. No cars around. No sound at all except for the hum of a lighted sign on the door.
Dave could see the Air Force Academy to the south. The unusual chapel building stood the tallest, and it rose from the earth like two dozen chopsticks stacked at a sharp triangle. The campus was beyond that.
“What do we do now?” Dave said.
“Now, we just wait for… speak of the goddamn devil, there they are.”
A congregation of six cars pulled into the campgrounds. The first was Mitchell’s beat-up Buick sedan. The next five cars all opened their doors at once and out poured a collection of men in dark jeans and shirts.
From the last car emerged Hector, the Hispanic man from the day before. He set his sights on Dave and crossed the dirt parking lot.
“What is he doing here?” Hector said, glaring at Dave.
“It’s cool, don’t worry about him,” Alec said.
Hector pursed his lips, then stepped close enough to Dave to kiss him. Their noses touched. “Do you know why we are here? Do you understand the great thing we are going to do tonight?”
“I don’t understand anything about this,” Dave said, pulling back a few inches.
“This is a revolution,” Hector said, and he puffed out his chest. “This is the beginning, but with this one spark, we’re going to set fire to the old world.”
Dave looked at this little Che Guevara in front of him, confused by his odd mix of passion and anxiety. He was wearing a pea coat and a tight black cap that pulled his eyebrows into semicircles. Dave wanted to grab the smug little bastard’s nose and twist it right off, but he couldn’t do anything to jeopardize getting Isabelle back.
“Are you going to be a problem?” Hector said.
Dave didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to be here and didn’t want to cower to this asshole. He watched as the men from the cars unloaded several bags from the trunks, then pulled C-4 and detonators out of them, then disappeared into the night toward the Air Force campus, leaving their cars behind at the campsite.
“He’s not going to be a problem,” Alec said. “Are you, buddy?”
Mitchell came lumbering up to them, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He dropped the bag in front of Hector.
“Ahh, and here is our demolitions expert,” Hector said, taking a few steps back.
“Damn straight,” Mitchell said. “What’d I miss?”
“Did the three of you inspect the plastique and find it to your liking?”
“We got it all sorted out,” Mitchell said. “Where do you want us?”
Hector dug a hand into his coat pocket and slipped out a gun with a silencer on the end. Before anyone could do anything, he pulled the trigger and Alec fell to the ground. The sound was like a loud rubber band snapping. In a flash, Alec had been standing, then, in a heap on the ground.
Mitchell stumbled backward as Dave dropped to his knees. Hector had shot Alec in the forehead. Gone. A thin trail of blood leaked from the perfectly round hole in his head.
Dave’s stomach rumbled as he watched his friend breathe his last breath. The weight of this realization pressed on him, made him dizzy.
Mitchell turned to escape, but one of Hector’s men emerged from the shadows, grabbed him, and brought him back
in line with Dave and their now-dead companion. Another man stepped behind Dave. He felt a pair of strong hands grasp his shoulders.
“So, our demolitions expert and his suspicious friend… did all three of you handle the C-4 I gave you? Get your fingerprints all over it?”
“Why are you doing this?” Mitchell said, struggling against the man holding him.
“You’re going to be revolutionaries too. We don’t need your services after all, Mr. Demolitions Expert. And we won’t need the C-4 we gave you.” He nodded to a man who materialized out of the shadows and took the bag away. “Don’t worry, we will leave it somewhere they can find it.”
Hector lowered the pistol and squeezed the trigger. Another whistle of air and Mitchell sunk to the ground, gasping.
“I shot you in the stomach because you tried to trick me. Do you understand? You insult me with your lies, and now you suffer. But your purpose will be much grander in the big scheme of life, and you will help keep them off my trail while we begin the next phase. Do you follow?”
Mitchell gulped air as blood leaked out of his stomach. His head twitched a few times, then his breathing slowed and turned to wheezes.
Dave closed his eyes, tried to pretend this was all some kind of twisted dream. It had to be, right?
But it wasn’t, and Dave knew he would be next to die. And he knew Isabelle was somewhere, hidden by Mitchell, and the only ones who knew her location were either dead or dying. Those idiots had brought about all of this chaos willingly.
Dave looked around. Hector and the two men with him. Three on one wasn’t a fair fight, especially since one of them had a gun. Isabelle was going to die alone, strapped to a chair in a hotel room somewhere, or locked in a closet. Maybe that was better than the earthquakes and tidal waves and everything else the meteor would bring.
Hector removed the silencer from the gun. “And last, we have the hesitant one. I did not like that they included you in the deal because I did not know you. But it’s no matter now. You will be famous, like them. Look me in the eyes so I know you understand.”