Countdown: The Wasteland Chronicles Book One

by Rashad Freeman

  “Hello?” Eddie said as he whipped around, gripping a tire iron in his hands.

  The moonlight gleamed like a flashlight and Eddie could see across the cow pastures to a red barn. The rest of the ground was flat and empty. Not another soul occupied the desolate stretch of highway.

  Convincing himself it was the wind, he reached back into the trunk and grabbed the jack. He ran back to the front of the car and quickly started loosening the lug nuts on the flat tire.

  “Eddie,” a voice said a bit louder.

  “Who is out there? What the hell do you want?” Eddie yelled and swung the tire iron fiercely.

  “You,” the voice said sharply.

  There was a flash of light and then something smacked Eddie in the back of the head. He stumbled forward and fell into the car. Something hit him again and he staggered and landed on his back.

  Blood oozed from his head and his vision blurred. A euphoric feeling rushed over him and he felt himself slipping away. The last thing he saw before he completely blacked out was Stephen’s face.

  December 10, 2012

  “That’ll be twelve twenty-one,” the snaggle-toothed cashier demanded as she stretched her hand and snapped her fingers.

  “For a pack of gum?” Lenny squelched his face in confusion.

  “Doomsday prices, it’s the same everywhere,” she replied matter of factly.

  A little oscillating fan turned back and forth blowing the cashier’s frayed brown hair into her face. She stared at Lenny indifferently and clicked her teeth. Her green and white apron was stained with coffee, making her look more like a waitress at a truck diner than a cashier.

  Lenny looked back at the motley crew of strangers behind him. An aging trucker, holding a six pack and a box of condoms, a college kid, stuck in a furious lip lock with another co-ed and a portly old blonde woman, whose upturned nose and snide face reeked of royalty. He sighed heavily, then turned around and gave the cashier a twenty dollar bill.

  “If December twenty-second rolls around, I’m robbing this fucking place.” Lenny snatched his change and marched out of the debilitated gas station.

  He ripped the pack open and popped a piece of spearmint gum into his mouth. Glancing past his black Chevy Suburban, he looked out onto the snow capped mountains and smiled. Canyon City, Colorado was the perfect place to build a fallout shelter. Shame he didn’t live there he thought, as the semi-truck with the majestic landscape rolled away.

  Argon, Florida on the other hand, was a statistical nightmare. No hard rock features, close proximity to Cuba, an overabundance of nuclear reactors and a dozen or so military bases that just screamed tactical target.

  Lenny sucked in the eighty-six degree air before hopping into his Suburban and cranking it up. He pulled out onto the highway and stepped on the gas pedal. Crackling voices seeped from his speakers and he turned the volume up.

  “Iran is still refusing to disarm after mounting pressure from the UN,” a female voice announced in an eerie tone.

  The heated military debate had been raging on for the past few weeks. The United Nations led by the U.S. declared sanctions and shook stern fingers at Iran. Iran smirked and spooled up another nuke out of spite.

  Tensions were probably at their highest and the world’s economies were bearing the brunt. Gas had increased exponentially, water was as abundant as pink diamonds and almost every retailer had doubled the price of all their products, in a mafia-style price fixing scam they’d termed doomsday pricing.

  “The president has declared an eleven day deadline for Iran officials to comply,” the newswoman continued.

  Lenny sighed and cut the radio off. This would be the fifth deadline given by the United States. It wasn’t any wonder that Iran didn’t give a damn. But while this song and dance had repeated itself over and over again, Lenny couldn’t deny that there was something a bit different about this tune.

  The tires to the heavy SUV hummed as he rolled passed the Davidson’s farm. Lenny honked the horn at Henry, who was riding on his tractor. From the look of things out there, you wouldn’t know that the world was on the brink of its third world war.

  Everyone seemed to be going about their regular lives. Cows were grazing in the field and pigs were rolling in the mud. Henry bobbed up and down as he plowed his fields like he normally did. As Lenny drove by he smiled and tipped his straw hat.

  A few miles down the road Lenny pulled up to the front of his compound and the heavy iron gates slowly rolled open. He glanced from side to side across his barren forty acre property and then drove up the winding brick driveway.

  As he parked, a commercial for backup generators came on. Some local shop claimed to have a few units left for anyone willing to pony up the $40,000. Lenny laughed and shut off his truck.

  “Gonna need more than a generator to survive this shit,” he grumbled under his breath.

  December 15, 2012

  Lenny rolled out of bed and yawned. As he sat up a pile of beer cans tumbled of off the mattress and rattled to the floor. Reaching across to his nightstand, he grabbed a Tequila bottle and brought it to his mouth. A drop fell from the empty container and splashed onto his tongue.

  “Damn it,” Lenny groaned and threw the bottle.

  Rango, his four year old German shepherd, lifted his head and looked around. The hiking boot he’d been chewing on toppled over as globs of drool wept onto the floor.

  “Rango,” Lenny growled and snapped his fingers.

  The television flickered in the darkness. A banner rolled across the screen, “The United States mobilizes the 10th Mountain Division.”

  Lenny shook his head and sighed. He glanced at his alarm clock and rubbed his eyes. Two eighteen in the morning, as good a time as any for a quick run through.

  Grabbing a pair of sneakers, Lenny headed out of the door into the cool morning air. A light fog drifted across the barren landscape and the smell of wet grass lingered in the moist air. Glimpses of the moon came in and out of view as clouds slowly crawled past it.

  Lenny slipped on his shoes then headed across his gravel-filled yard to the only visible structure, an inconspicuous slab of pavement surrounded by a fence. It looked like a dog kennel and Lenny was the only person that knew otherwise.

  He fiddled with the lock then swung the gate open and stepped onto the slab. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a key ring with a little black transponder hanging from it.

  “One, two, three, four and five,” Lenny mumbled as he counted his steps across the concrete.

  He stopped and turned around then looked down at the key ring. Holding the transponder between his forefinger and his thumb he brought it up to eye level and squeezed one of the buttons. A few seconds passed then suddenly the slab began to shake. Lenny took another step back and looked down at the concrete.

  A five foot section of the slab slowly began to rise off of the ground. It rose nearly six feet into the air and then stopped, revealing a staircase that ran underground.

  Lenny ducked his head and stepped onto the staircase. The grated steps spiraled downward, disappearing into blackness. He gripped the iron railing, sliding his hand across it as he walked. Just as his head sunk below ground level a light came on and the slab began to lower.

  Lenny rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, waiting for the staircase to come to a stop. A long winding noise echoed as the hydraulic lift lowered him further into the Earth. The hiss of venting air signaled the end of his journey and he stepped off of the staircase onto a stone floor.

  He glanced around the room. It was a twenty by twenty empty square. No pictures, no paintings, just a staircase and a heavy iron door on the other side.

  Several panels of UV lights buzzed overhead. Lenny looked up and made a mental note that one of them needed changing. The bright glow and the sterile floor made the place look like an empty operating room.

  Deliberately, Lenny marched straight across the room to the other side. Hidden flush against the wall next to the door was a sma
ll electronics panel. Lenny pressed a space on the wall and it slowly opened, exposing a series of bright red buttons. The panel was so well concealed within the wall, that if you hadn’t known it was there you wouldn’t have found it.

  He jabbed at the buttons in what seemed like a random pattern. When he was done he closed the panel and stepped back. With a loud clang the iron door slowly swung open.

  Lenny stepped inside and another series of lights popped on. He closed the door behind him and the hidden panel of gears and locks ground to a close. To his right a generator buzzed softly. To his left barrels upon barrels of diesel fuel sat bunched in a corner. Directly in front of him was an elevator with a single down arrow to the side.

  Lenny took a deep breath and mashed his finger onto the button. The elevator doors opened and he walked inside. They immediately closed behind him and the cart started to descend.

  The elevator shook and shrieked as it dove deeper and deeper. Lenny leaned against the back wall, his head bobbing about as the cart swayed. Then it suddenly stopped and the doors began to open.

  Lenny stepped off of the elevator onto a tile floor. He walked a few steps forward and lights exploded, illuminating the enormous dwelling. The room looked like a giant warehouse with hallways running off in every direction.

  Rafters hung above him, drilled into the Earth and supported by enormous iron beams. Rows of towering shelves created corridors wide enough to drive a tank through. Bulky ventilation ducts snaked through the facility like a massive red boa constrictor.

  Lenny spun around, taking a mental note of everything in the room. Drums of water containers were strapped near a wall, next to them were pallets upon pallets of freeze dried foods. Across from him was a small cache of weapons intermixed with medical kits of varying sizes.

  Lenny grinned as he visually inventoried his stockpile. He’d been adding to it for years and while he wasn’t done yet, he was happy with the progress. Prepping was a lifetime commitment and Lenny committed.

  Once he finished in the main room he headed off down one of the spiraling hallways. He smiled as he walked the lonely tunnel. This was his place of peace, his church of solitude, his temple of preparedness. Here, Lenny was ready for anything.

  December 20, 2012

  “Where the hell you headed in such a hurry?” Lenny looked at Henry Davidson with a raised eyebrow.

  “Eh, just…just to my sisters in Colorado. Little vacation is all,” Henry stuttered then turned to the cashier. “Now, now you make sure Neil feeds those horses. You got that new girl?”

  Henry eyed her anxiously as she bagged the two jugs of equine antibiotics. He’d been coming to this feed store for some time and wasn’t too happy having to leave his instructions with a new face.

  “Not a problem Mr. Davidson. I’ll give him the message as soon as he gets back from Houston,” the cashier smiled and leaned over the counter exposing a set of perfectly shaped C cups.

  “Houston, what the hell’s he doing in Houston?” Lenny stammered, fighting the urge to continue staring at the new girl’s chest.

  “Just a last minute supply pickup. You must be Mr. Brewster. Neil said you’d be stopping by. I have your order in the back, I’ll get it now.”

  “It’s Lenny.”

  “Excuse me?” the cashier turned around.

  “It’s Lenny; no one calls me Mr. Brewster. That was my father’s name.”

  The cashier batted her eyelashes, showing off her deep green pupils. She smiled at him and cleared her throat. “Rebecca, that’s what people call me. Not new girl,” she responded and rolled her eyes at Henry.

  As she disappeared into the back, Henry turned to Lenny as he was heading for the door.

  “You take care of yourself. And be careful for Christ’s sake. I’ll see you on the other side.” He patted Lenny on the arm and then walked out.

  Lenny stared after him and scratched his head. They weren’t at war yet, he thought. They’d been talking about bombing Iran for as long as Lenny could remember. The whole December twenty-first thing and a Mayan calendar was just convenient timing.

  Rebecca walked back around the corner pulling a cart that was loaded up with boxes. Lenny smiled as he watched her struggle, bending over exposing the tattoo on her lower back. He tilted his head awkwardly to the side with an alien grin on his face. He was still gazing at her when she turned around and shouted to him.

  “Mr. Brewster, I mean Lenny. Think you can give me a hand with this?”

  Lenny snapped out of his daze. “Oh sure,” he said as he scuttled towards her.

  Rebecca slid over and Lenny grabbed the handle and tugged the cart outside. He opened the back of his Suburban and they both started to load the heavy boxes into the SUV. Crates, tubs of dried food and powdered milk toppled over his backseat.

  “So how long have you been working here Rebecca?” Lenny smiled.

  “Oh, just a week. Neil’s a family friend, I’m just helping out while I’m down here,” Rebecca replied and brushed her long black hair out of her face.

  “Got any plans for tonight?” Lenny was reaching, but what did he care, he was living on borrowed time anyway.

  Rebecca paused and surveyed him. She slowly looked him up and down, while puckering her lips. She mirrored the way Lenny ogled her, but he was oblivious.

  “It’s the end of the world right? I was thinking I’d get shit-faced and have meaningless sex with a stranger.”

  Lenny almost choked and began to cough loudly. He patted his chest and leaned on the back of his truck. Rebecca hid a smile and stared at him with as straight a face as she could manage.

  “Yeah, hell yeah. Why not?” Lenny gasped, still trying to catch his breath.

  Rebecca giggled. “I’m just messing with you, but I will take a drink.”

  Lenny frowned and then forced a smile. “Okay, what time do you get off?”

  “Eight-thirty. I just have to close up.”

  “Let me take this stuff home and I’ll pick you up,” Lenny said with a glimmer in his eyes.

  Rebecca nodded her head and finished loading the back of his Suburban. Lenny smiled the entire time, constantly glancing at her every time she leaned across the seat. Once they finished Lenny jumped in his car with a cheesy grin and sped off.

  Music blared loudly from his speakers and he turned the dial to the news. Some politician was still complaining about Iran. It sounded like any hopes of a peaceful solution were all but extinguished.

  Lenny rolled his eyes. He had heard this story before and it always ended the same way, lots of angry words, followed by a handshake. War was a thing of the past, now name calling followed by diplomacy was the way to win hearts and minds.

  When he made it home, Lenny quickly unloaded his supplies and lowered them into his hidden shelter. He stood at the door and smiled at his growing stash of goodies. His preps were coming along nicely.

  The overhead UV lights buzzed and Lenny took one last look then closed the door. Grinning, he stepped onto the elevator and rode it back to the surface. Once topside, he went through his normal routine of shutting everything down before walking back to the house.

  As his shoes crunched the gravel-filled yard, he stuck his fingers into his mouth and whistled for Rango. The hefty German shepherd poked his head out from behind the house then followed him inside. Lenny poured a bowl of dog food and slid it across the floor. Then he grabbed a half-empty bottle of vodka and guzzled it down.

  “Now you listen Rango,” he said in a shaky voice. “I might bring a lady home, you better behave.” He jabbed his finger at the dog then tossed the bottle into the trash.

  Rango huffed and dove into the bowl of dog food with reckless abandon. Lenny shook his head then walked out of the door. He hopped back into his Suburban and drove off for the feed store.

  December 21, 2012

  The television hissed loudly, the screen was covered in fuzzy black and white dots. Lenny slowly opened one eye and peeked at the clock, the bright green lights flash
ed on and off. He tried to sit up, but someone’s face was buried into his chest and his groggy, liquor filled brain could hardly mange the task.

  With his free hand, he swept the long black hair out of her face and smiled. It wasn’t a dream after all, he thought.

  Carefully, he slid Rebecca’s head onto a pillow and swung his legs off of the bed. An empty vodka bottle crashed to the floor and spun around. The sudden noise startled Rango and he barked loudly.

  “It’s okay boy,” Lenny said and patted him on the head.

  Rebecca hadn’t moved. She breathed loudly into the pillow, her naked body glowing under the moonlight. Lenny wished he could sleep that peacefully.

  He stared down on her for some time. He was fixated on her perfect skin and wonderfully symmetrical features. Her arms were lean and femininely muscular, her long tanned legs hinted at a former professional volleyball career. He’d truly outdone himself this time.

  Lenny smiled then stepped outside and leaned his head back. He looked up at the blank sky and took a deep breath. Stretching his arms he yawned loudly then took a look at his watch. It read four fifty five AM.

  “Shouldn’t we all be dead?” Lenny mumbled to himself before stumbling back inside.

  That was the thought, what all the crazies were saying. The world should’ve ended by now, but by Lenny’s account he was having the best day of his life.

  He knelt down in front of the TV and started to fumble with the buttons. Every channel was the same, static with fuzzy black and white dots. Eventually, he grew frustrated and turned it off. He crawled back into bed with Rebecca and fell back asleep.

  Four hours later Lenny awoke to Rebecca tapping on his arm. He rolled over and grinned, still slightly in disbelief that he’d manage to get her home.

  “That was one wild night, huh?” Rebecca asked, looking down at Lenny and biting her lower lip.

  “Honestly I don’t remember shit,” Lenny smiled, but quickly changed his expression as Rebecca shot him an angry look. “No, no I remember us. I just don’t remember much before it,” Lenny said, trying to backtrack.