Abraham dragged his clammy hands across his exhausted face. “What?” He wondered aloud.
“Robb told me to gather the family and head to your house. He was going to give us some big speech. He said the end of the world was near.”
“He’s coming here?” Abraham gasped. “Why would he tell you such things?”
“Robb said time was short.”
Abraham still didn’t believe his son was threatening to join the South. “What the hell’s wrong with your brother?” He rushed for the second floor window and parted the ivory blinds with his meaty figures. His heart almost stopped when he saw a slick car’s high beams coming down the dirt road.
“Someone’s coming,” Abraham said full of passion.
“Robb,” breathed Peter. “What should I do? Should we come?”
“Maybe your brother was out drinking. This doesn’t make sense.” Abraham hurried down the old creaking stairs and lifted the curtain at the front window, a big bay window of length. He squinted as the high beams blinded him for a moment. “He’s driving like a manic. And how did he afford the gas?”
The silver vehicle swept across the long driveway and slid to a screeching halt. Abraham stepped back, holding his pained heart. Too much pressure, he thought, falling back into his comfortable plaid recliner. Robb would have to wait. Abraham reached over and popped the top of his heart medication. Two blue pills tumbled from the vial into his rough palms and then shot into his dry mouth. He swallowed hard as the agony increased. The medication had kept him heart attack free so far.
“Dad?” called out Peter. “Dad, are you alright? Who was in the vehicle?”
Abraham tensed as he let the phone fall out of his hand. He hadn’t seen Robb in three weeks. He sat slack jawed, his brown eyes bulging as Robb burst through his front door like he had over the years.
“What is going on?” Abraham met the gorgeous eyes of two of his grandchildren shuffling in behind their zealous dad. Their shrieks grew with his drumming heartbeat. Robb puffed and panted as he ignored Abraham and kept moving.
“Dad, please don’t go!” wailed Emme, tugging at Robb’s pin-striped blazer. The little black pack on her shoulders must have weighed close to thirty pounds. She was a sweet girl of ten back then, with a spirit bright enough to rival the daylight. Abraham enjoyed Emme the most of his seven grandchildren. The reality of the situation forced him to pick up a stale glass of water and take a sip. The medicine was working, but its effects were too slow for his liking. His heart hammered in his overused chest as he sunk farther into the folds of the chair.
“I’m going with you, Dad,” exclaimed Hunter, picking up his bags. The teenage boy had sideswiped bangs and a lean frame. His personality matched the bad boy presence attributed to teenage angst. However, Abraham’s son, Robb, in his late-thirties, looked pale and sick.
He watched Robb yanked at Hunter’s denim sleeve and speak with authority. “I will be back. You’ll be safe here with Grandma and Grandpa.”
“What the hell is going on?” demanded Abraham, trying to stand up, yet the tightness in his chest kept him seated. “You’re going to get yourself killed.” All of his swelling anger came back with vengeance in his hard glare. “I forbid you from joining the South.”
Robb’s grin mocked him. “I called Peter, Benjamin, Lilly, and Alison. I told them to make haste for the farm. We need to talk.” The red glisten from the terrestrial object bled into the room, highlighting Robb’s dark hair laced with a hint of his mother’s curls.
“Do you know what time it is?” questioned Abraham, adjusting his glasses. The clock on the wall confirmed the late hour, but Robb didn’t seem to care. “Where is your wife, Robb?”
“Tori went to warn her dad.”
“Warn Glenn about what? That you’ve gone off your rocker?” Glenn was Abraham’s closest neighbor and Emme and Hunter’s other grandpa. The crazy man was far from someone Abraham would call a friend. They had plenty of disputes between them over the last year.
At that strident moment, Beth rushed down the stairs, threading her frail arms around her trembling grandchildren. “What is the meaning of this?” she said.
Abraham pounded his fists. “That fool of a boy is going to fight for the South.”
Her thin lips quivered as she hugged little Emme in a somber embrace. “Robb, is it true?”
“Tori and I must go if the world is to survive what is coming. The apocalypse is on its way.”
“Why do always talk in riddles?” snapped Abraham, wanting to slap the stupid out of his son.
“Are you listening to me? Get off your high horse and use your brain.”
Abraham was more than frustrated with his dim-witted son. Robb always thought he knew best, but he didn’t understand respect.
“Hush now. That’s your father,” Beth spat. “Show some respect.”
Abraham exchanged dark glances with his son.
After several deep breaths, Robb turned back to his mother. Beth was always willing to listen to reason. “I’m leaving my children with you. I’ll return as soon as possible.”
With a dejected look, Beth wiped the wet corners of her coffee-colored eyes. A grandmother always loved her grandchildren in a way she never could her own children. Abraham knew this to be true. Both Hunter and Emme melted into her warm embrace. However, the little girl continued to wail. It was like a banshee’s cry to Abraham as he cringed.
Abraham fought his way up despite the throbbing numbness climbing up his left side. His shaggy white eyebrows on his old face cut together.
“You’ll need guns.” Robb shifted back toward the door. “And shelter after the bombs settle.”
“Guns are illegal here,” snapped Abraham as Emme fell silent upon Beth’s hammering chest.
“Is everything okay?” questioned Tori as she burst into the house.
Everyone muttered a different word for no. Nobody was fine; in fact, it was the complete opposite.
Abraham saw the terror in Tori’s body language. Her straight, yellow hair fell down her slender back. “Robb, we have to go,” she said to her husband.
“The rest of my brothers and sisters haven’t arrived,” Robb replied.
“My daddy is coming,” Tori muttered with hollow eyes. She ran to her frightened children and took them in her loving arms. “It’s going to be okay,” she assured them.
Robb sighed. “I thought you said he wasn’t a problem?”
The scattering of loose gravel alerted them of someone else’s arrival. Was it the rest of the Abraham’s children or Tori’s crazy old father?
“The world is about to change. The North and the South are getting ready to launch a barrage of nuclear devices,” Robb said.
Abraham watched Robb clear the blemished coffee table between them. A pile of books and a glass tub of shiny hard candy crashed onto the carpeted floor. The sharp sound echoed across the space as tension between father and son intensified.
Robb swung up a hardened suitcase with a bang and clinked open the two plastic snaps. Inside was a variety of guns including assault rifles, hunting rifles, shotguns, and even pistols. Robb pointed back to another suitcase near the door and spoke soft and easy. “It’s stuffed with extra ammo. Hide it in the barn or one of the hunting cabins. Bury some of it out in the woods. I’m sure you remember how to use it, Dad.”
“A nuclear war?” Abraham gazed at Robb’s arsenal and then back to his somber son. He loved Robb, but the conflict had made his boy crazy. I think you need to leave, he thought, but couldn’t say the words. All he wanted was for his son to stay. Abraham couldn’t process the information fast enough. His eyes sunk a little deeper in his sullen expression. The red shade of the planetary object brought a fevered mien to his stoned appearance. He returned his eyes to his humming wife. “Did you hear him?”
“I heard him,” Beth hummed, rocking Emme.
“I don’t want to die,” Emme whimpered louder. Emme must have felt protected, sandwiched between her grandma and her
mother. There was no safer place on the planet.
“Take care of your sister,” Robb said to Hunter. “We’ll be back.”
“What good are guns in a nuclear war?” asked Abraham, interlacing his fingers behind his head.
“Don’t go, Mom,” moaned Hunter, climbing into her familiar arms.
“I don’t have a choice.” Tori sobbed, running a hand through his messy hair. Abraham could see she didn’t want to leave her babies.
“There will be no home if we fail,” added Robb. He touched his boy gently across the shoulder and then turned for the door with Abraham hot on his heels.
Standing next to a rusted pickup truck was Tori’s father, Glenn. “Come out here, boy. I want to have words with you,” the crude rancher said, smacking his thin lips. Abraham watched Tori rush out the door. She pleaded with her drunken father. The whiskey breath must have burned her damp eyes by the jerk reaction she presented.
Robb followed his wife out and down the porch steps. Glenn had family serving in the Northern Republic. Everyone knew he hated all ties to Southern Liberty. The slender farmer scowled as his brow rose. He opened his pinkish eyes and stared. “I’ll tell you something, Robb. You try and run off and join the South, I’ll kill you.”
Robb smiled like a playful boy. “You don’t understand. They need brilliant minds to fight what’s coming.”
“Fuck you, and your alien talk.”
“It’s the spores that are going to change the world. It will make you wish for death, but it will never come.”
Abraham didn’t like the tone of the conversation. He moved back for a moment to the arsenal of weapons. He hadn’t fired a gun since his days in the service. The Neutral Zone Federation had a weapon ban it enforced with an iron fist in the city, but in the sticks, their presence was limited.
At first, Abraham thought about heading to Mexico. He believed the weapons ban was ploy for something sinister. He didn’t like the idea of living amongst a government of unarmed civilians. But he felt this place was the only way to keep his family out of the Civil War. Screw the rules, he thought as his fingers scratched the glossy gun metal of a pistol. He pressed the magazine release and frowned at the stack of .45 rounds, ready to do some damage.
The shouting outside intensified. Tori called for Abraham to join them outside. The fear in her tone gave him the balls to stuff the gun into the back of his gray pajama pants. Muttering sinful curses under his breath, he strode out into the crimson night.
“Hold on, Glenn,” he mumbled, taking in his wily neighbor’s unpredictable eyes. It was grandpa verse grandpa.
“I never liked your son. He’s weak like you, Abraham,” Glenn spat with a stream of chewing tobacco dripping out of his mouth.
“I’ve pissed harder than you’ve ever fought.” Abraham took another step closer, watching a new set of headlights dip through the thicket of trees. “That’s going to be Benjamin Heinz,” he suggested, watching Glenn turn back to the rumbling sound of the vehicle. “How many times did my son kick your son’s ass? Close to a dozen if I remember right. Funny, your boy was two years older and a good foot taller. What do you think he’s going to do to you?”
Glenn laughed, then busted Robb in the mouth. Robb never saw the sucker punch coming. Glenn moaned, then tucked his fist back, wincing in discomfort. “Piss on you, Abraham. Don’t worry. I got me a Northern soldier on the way. He’s going to take care of this Southern traitor,” Glenn promised.
Abraham sucked in a lungful of thin air. His daughter Alison was engaged to a Northern soldier named Steven who happened to be on leave in the area. Most of the soldiers on both sides took their vacations in the neutral zone. It was the only safe place for a combatant. Steven had a certain savvy about him that disgusted an old man such as himself. Maybe it was because the soldier reminded Abraham of his own persona during his youthful time in the military.
Abraham never liked Glenn. The troublesome neighbor had given his family a barrage of issues because of Robb and Tori’s relationship. Nevertheless, it was the poisoning of his dog that burned in his soul.
Abraham watched Benjamin jump out of his vehicle. One of the straps on Benjamin’s brown overalls was busted and swung with each heavy step. Ben was the largest in the Heinz family with refined muscles that never took a day of rest. He continued in a straight line for Glenn, only taking his eyes off of him once, glancing down to check his injured brother.
“Nobody hits Robb except me,” he said.
Glenn spit at the ground and showed his toothless grin. “Ben, you don’t know what he did.”
Ben’s oil stained hands were balls as he crushed Glenn in the stomach. Glenn fell, clutching tight to his swollen belly. “Tell me he deserved it, Robb,” Ben snapped at his brother. “Tell me!”
“Every ounce of it,” Robb answered.
Abraham gawked at the edge of the driveway. He saw another car he didn’t hear drive up. This was one of those fancy electric vehicles. A tall man slipped out the back of the car on polished dress shoes. The navy blue trousers held up by suspenders told Abraham he was in serious trouble. He knew the Northern scumbag was here for Robb. Abraham felt the tension inch down his spine. The man was indeed Steven Waller, his youngest daughters, fiancé. Steven had two fellow Yankees following his every step. “This isn’t a war zone,” Abraham called out, though everyone appeared to ignore his words.
“Is it true?” Steven asked, coming to a stop several feet back.
Abraham’s stomach wrenched. “This is neutral ground. You got no right.”
“A little birdy tells me Robb claims to have information about a nuclear war? And news about some sort of nasty virus?”
“Go to hell.” Robb spat out a wealth of blood as he climbed up to his feet. “Your people did this,” he accused, drenched in sweat and salt. “The Northern Republic is responsible for the coming apocalypse.”
“Both sides use bombs, but nuclear bombs are against the rules. You will be coming with us. I promise you, Abraham, no harm will come to him.” Steven pointed and his two Yankee goons descended on Robb.
Benjamin cut off the two soldiers in a hurry, his breath hot in their shaved faces. “Nobody’s touching my brother.” The two soldiers looked back to Steven for orders.
“For America,” Glenn slurred as he took another cheap shot at Robb, splitting his left eye. Robb staggered and then fell into the dirt.
Abraham fingered the stubble on his strong jaw as he stepped forward. He saw his son on his knees, bleeding through his teeth and tracing a finger over his gashed eye. Part of him loved the sight; Robb needed to get his butt kicked. He’d always been weak. Yet as a father, Abraham wasn’t going to let some man his age take a swing without consequences.
Increasing his speed, Abraham saw his chance and took it with fury. A straight jab brought Glenn to his knees. “Nobody is touching my family!” Enraged, Abraham turned his scowl toward Steven and his cronies. “Get off my property right now. Screw the North and the South!” Abraham felt the vein in his temple throbbing. “You think the blood spilled by the Northern Republic doesn’t stain your hands, Steven?”
Glenn rose and threaded his hand in his daughter’s yellow hair. He yanked her back hard. “You have turned my own daughter into a criminal.” He pushed her into the dirt and charged Robb again.
Weak, hairy arms grabbed around Glenn’s collar and tugged. It was Robb, and the sight made Abraham proud. His son had never fought back. During Robb’s teen years, the boy would come home with black eyes and tales of how he only cowered. Whatever cause Robb was sworn to, it made him fight. This was something new. Robb forced himself on top of old Glenn and more slapped than punched.
“Nobody touches my wife,” he howled.
It was in that moment that Abraham realized the crimson night had turned the weakest of souls into fierce predators. Everything that happened after blurred as the onset to his first heart attack ensued. Steven and his men thought it would be a good time to take advantage of a stunned cro
wd. One of them, a plump man with a splash of freckles, swung at Abraham. The heart medication made Abraham numb to an otherwise stinging blow. He took a second punch to the gut and spit. Then he gave a series of his own.
He could hear Beth screaming at the door’s edge. Then and there, as sudden as it began, the screaming stopped. Abraham imagined the end of the conflict. The tussle would see Steven and his men away and Glenn back to his home. Imaging the typical ending, he failed to see Crazy old Glenn reaching for something in his pocket.
“I always hated you,” Glenn slurred through his whiskey breath. “Either the soldiers take him or I kill him.” As he pulled out his hand, a knife flashed in the crimson light.
“Put it down,” Abraham snapped, holding up a cautious hand. It had happened too fast. “Glenn, you’re not thinking right.” Breathing hard and waiting for the pain in his knuckles to subside enough for him to gage the situation, Abraham trembled with raw adrenaline. The silence stretched across the shadows of the farm in an uncanny manner.
After three or four seconds, Glenn stood above Robb and held his three inches of honed steel at the ready.
“I need him alive,” slurred Steve, holding a hunk of flesh dripping from his fat lips. He tried to sit up, but the beat down suffered at the hands of Benjamin left him stunned and tangled.
“This isn’t you, Glenn.” Abraham slid his hand back and grasped the familiar grip of the pistol. “Nobody has to get hurt. We can still all walk away from this and fix it another day.”
“I do this for the good of the country,” Glenn said, his voice shaky as he took a moment to appreciate the daunting blood-colored night. Closing his big eyes, Glenn ran his hand down in a swift downward motion. Red Dead must have spoken to Glenn in a rage of consuming fire as if a dark god were forcing his hand. The pleas fell silent on his deaf ears. Red Dead had ushered in commands that could never be disobeyed.
“Die!” Glenn shrieked.
Adrenaline rushing, Abraham swung the pistol and steadied his aim. Yet, before he could pull the trigger, a loud bang rang in his old ears tearing the color from his world.
Infected Freaks Volume One: Family First Page 6