Stone Age

by ML Banner

  “We have the supplies that everyone will run out of in a few days. In a few weeks, they will try to kill you for them. In a month, they will be killing each other. Then it will get really bad. Do you understand what I am telling you?”

  “Max, how do you know what’s happening? How do you know it’s this bad?” Sally asked, seeming to keep her wits about her better than her parents were.

  “I will tell you all of this later. Bill you already know some of this.” Lisa and Sally’s heads both spun around to Bill with questioning glances, wondering what Max meant. “But we don’t have time to talk about this right now. Under no circumstances, should you ever tell anyone about what you have here or what I have. You must lie. Your lives and mine depend upon it. Do you understand me?” Max sternly looked at each.

  Bill, Lisa, and Sally just stared at Max as if he were a monkey at a zoo that had heard Shakespeare read to it. They were in shock.

  “Do you understand me?” Max screamed at them.

  “Yes,” they collectively answered.

  “Good. Now, Lisa and Sally lock up the house and meet me by your pool in five minutes. Do not do anything else, but this.” Max looked at both of them to make sure they acknowledged and accepted their tasks.

  “Bill, I need your help across the street.” Max, Bill, and Lisa walked briskly to the front door, while Sally was headed to the bedrooms to make sure its windows and doors were secured.

  Max and Bill continued out the front door, when Max turned and said more quietly, “Make sure all your windows are secured too, and the blinds drawn. Lock this door behind us. Again, wait out at the pool for me. I have a job for Bill.” Max didn’t wait for acknowledgement before turning towards the street. Bill and Max jogged to the beach warehouse across the street. Max was still in his damp stocking feet.

  35.

  Fighting for your Family

  “What the hell is this, another damned surprise?” Bill asked when they crossed into the threshold of Max’s beach warehouse. Bill had just realized when he saw the two story tank that occupied most of the inside of the house that the house was a fake.

  “Holy crap, Max, you really knew this was coming, didn’t you?” Bill asked, somewhat rhetorically.

  “There’s no time. Come here,” Max commanded from the spiral staircase in what would have been the dining room. Max went up first, followed by Bill. At the second floor, Max grabbed some binoculars and a pair of Tevas he quickly swapped with his socks, and then made his way to the outside terrace above. Bill followed a few seconds behind, trying to come to terms with what was happening around him. Each floor was a new level of reality mugging him. He did not want to know what was on the roof.

  Bill mounted the terrace, questions about to break from his lips, but the smoke and fire outside separated him from reason. “Oh, my God… isn’t that the Anderson’s place on fire?” Bill pointed to a beach side house four lots away from where they stood. It was ablaze, but it wasn’t the only one. There were fires everywhere in Rocky Point. A chorus of screaming, yelling, and crying mixed with a black haze of smoke which hung over the entire city, and over them was a nightmarish vision he never would have imagined possible in a place that brought so much happiness to him and his family over the years.

  “Good, I don’t see them,” ignoring Bill’s distress. “We may have a little time still. Their car probably died like everyone else’s,” Max stated, in a disconnected mater-of-fact tone, back turned to Bill and the apocalyptic scene surrounding them, searching for their adversaries with the binoculars.

  “Bill, let me have your attention,” Max stated calmly, but sternly. Bill turned to find Max seated on some shelf that ran around the circumference of the terrace. Beside him was the sniper rifle cannon Max had showed him only two days ago. It appeared to be set up, pointing inland, as if he intended to use it on someone. He quickly stole a glance in that direction, past Max, hoping not to see someone, and what that might mean.

  “Bill?” Max waited until Bill was focused only on him.

  “I am sorry to do this to you. I promise I will explain everything to you fully, but we just don’t have time right now. Here is what you need to know. First, as I told you, we have been hit by several large bursts of plasma from the sun yesterday and this morning. We see this visually with the green and red auroras. Their induced currents spark fires, like with the Anderson’s, in anything with enough conductive material. The Smith’s house should be next. Much worse, the induced electrical currents have destroyed, or are currently destroying everything that has an integrated circuit, such as a computer, an iPhone, your TV. That’s why I had you put everything into your protected room. All cars, except those made before the 80s like Stanley or my Jeep will no longer run. All power and water are down. All communications, including radio and TV are out. And it is very important you understand this. This,” Max held his arms up, extending them forward and back, “is happening everywhere. It is worldwide. There is no one coming to help us, ever.”

  In spite of the many previous warnings, and what Max had shown him, or his wife losing it earlier, the enormity of what was happening to all of them hit Bill at that moment.

  “Max,” his eyes tear-filled pleaded with his friend, “what about Darla and Danny? How can you be sure they’re not flying right now, or that they’re safe?”

  “In reality, I don’t, Bill. I’m sorry, I know this is a gigantic worry for you, Lisa, and Sally. But, there is absolutely nothing you can do about it right now. We do know this, if they aren’t on a plane, they’re smart kids. They’ll be safe. However, Bill, at this moment, I need you to concentrate, okay?” Max stopped and waited until Bill was shaking his head in the affirmative.

  “We will deal together with surviving this new world, but you must listen to me now.” He paused, collected his thoughts and then continued, “There are anywhere from five to twenty men who are headed this way to kill us. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  “What? Who? What the hell are you talking about?” Bill asked.

  “The local Mexican cartel knows about my supplies and unfortunately that I helped broker an arms deal with another cartel in Northern Mexico near my ranch. Before you say anything, I did what I had to do to get this place stocked up so that we can protect ourselves. But, unfortunately, the son of the local cartel kingpin wants me dead, and your family too, and they’re coming now to try to kill us.”

  “Well then, let’s get into our truck and leave,” Bill interrupted. “You said our cars will run, so let’s leave. Why in God’s name do you want to play war with people who enjoy killing?”

  “Bill, you don’t understand. Where would we go? Sally’s house in Tucson? How much food does she have? How much water? When that’s gone, then what? The world, as you know it, is over. Welcome to the Stone Age, my friend. I have two years’ worth of food, water, and other supplies, for all of us. Plus, we have a defensible position here. We need to sit tight and not run away from this.

  Additionally, I need you to take a position up here, and if they show, I need to shoot them. You probably do not need to shoot more than just the leader. The rest of the group will run away when their leader is dead. They hate and fear him, which is why they will run.”

  “What? Are you fucking crazy? No way. I am not shooting someone,” Bill now very angry as Max expected.

  “I’m sorry, Bill, but your life and the life of your wife and daughter depend on this.”

  “Why the hell don’t you stay up here and shoot these people yourself? They’re after you anyway.”

  “I need to go secure your wife and daughter in my safe room. I promise I won’t be too long and if they don’t show before I return, it’s probably not a problem. If they do, you really need to do this. I know you can shoot. We’ve hunted together, and you’re a better shot than me, by far. If they do show up, just remember, they are coming here to kill all of us.”

  Feeling somewhat deflated, Bill asked, “How the hell do you know all of this? How
do you know they’re even coming?” He felt flushed, with perspiration now soaking his shirt, and the inevitability of the grotesque task Max was laying out for him. He gave up his resistance, knowing Max well enough that he would not ask unless it was absolutely necessary.

  “I got a text, before the power went out. A longtime friend of mine is part of this cartel. He told me about twenty minutes ago that they were headed here. If there wasn’t this little problem with the world ending, they would already be here. I hope that they won’t come, but, the little prick leading them will probably walk on foot to get here, which means he could be another ten minutes to two hours.

  Max seemed to hesitate, looking past Bill for just a moment, before continuing, speaking with surety. “I need to go and make sure your wife and daughter are safe. I will be back in maybe fifteen to twenty minutes, which I figure is what it will take to secure them in my secret office and tell them what they need to know. You know they’ll be safe there. We can all talk in detail then.

  One more thing, I see you have your key. It also works on this place as well. If anything happens to me, or if you don’t hear from me in say one hour, come down, lock up and go to the safe room. Make sure no one sees you.” Max was already halfway down the staircase.

  “Max, please take care of my family,” Bill begged, finally accepting what would be the most difficult job he had ever undertaken.

  “With my life, I promise.” Max gave a reassuring glance and was gone.

  ~~~

  After securing the front door, Max crossed the street, carefully checking to see if there were any threats, his hand resting on the gun underneath his shirt. No one was on the street. He continued through his beach house front gate, walking carefully and precisely, around the front and down the side yard that separated his and the King’s property. He quietly drew his .45 and held it toward the ground, at the ready. Just before he gave Bill a bitch-slap to reality, he watched two armed men come from the beach side, and ascend the stairs of both his and the King’s house and then to the patio doors. At first, he didn’t think that they were Rodrigo’s men, because Rodrigo preferred a more garish display of force, with guns blazing. Rodrigo’s perversion was the theatre of killing, with AK-47s acting as protagonists. However, if they were Rodrigo’s men, he reasoned that they would want to capture Max, Bill, and his family alive, so that Rodrigo could start the show when he and his men arrived. Max was sure Rodrigo hadn’t arrived yet, because they would have made their presence known, using fear to their advantage. Therefore, the two were either most likely waiting to ambush Max from the outside or they would have taken Lisa and Sally hostage and were waiting for him on the inside of the Kings.

  Making sure that no one saw, he hopped the property wall and dropped down below their dining room window, keeping tight to the wall.

  He rose slowly, lifting his head slightly above the windowsill so that he could see into the King’s home. There, on the sofa, were a very scared looking Lisa and Sally with some young thug standing behind them.

  A barely perceptible crunch sound came from Max’s left shoulder. A man’s footfall from a boot sounded on the rocks, probably the other one of the two he saw. Max immediately spun around, dropped to the ground, pointing his gun, finger on the trigger. He had a perfect sight picture, training his sight on the perp’s forehead. He wanted this done with one shot.

  The man did not hear nor see him as his AK 47 was slung loosely, hanging on his side away from Max. He was probably investigating another part of the house or looking for Max.

  An explosion from behind Max sounded from another house a few doors down. The man looked up surprised, and then with a puzzled realization as he caught a glimpse of Max. Clumsily, and in slow motion, the man tried to grab and raise his weapon before Max squeezed his trigger.

  ~~~

  Bill was sweating more than he could remember ever doing before. The sun beat down on him unmercifully, the canopy offering no protection to the back part of the terrace, adding to the labor of what he had to do. He counted fourteen men walking their way. They showed up moments after Max left. They marched in a V formation like a flock of seagulls, with their leader at the point of the V. That was whom he was supposed to shoot. He had the gun sight trained on him.

  He felt as if he was on the precipice staring down into hell’s fire. He was sure if he squeezed the sniper rifle’s trigger, his soul would follow.

  “Oh, God, am I really going to do this?” Bill mumbled.

  “Am I really going to squeeze the trigger and send a bullet into this stranger’s body, taking his life? Why again am I doing this? Because this man is maybe a threat to my family or me? What kind of reasoning was this?” Bill muttered this to the one man he saw through the eyepiece. Each man, except the lead walker appeared to have an AK assault rifle slung in front of their chests or on their sides.

  An explosion nearby wrenched Bill’s attention away from his target. Through the fire and growing black smoky haze, he recognized it was the Smith’s house only five doors away, next door to the Andersons. Max said it would go next because of the metal in the structure, through which the magnetic waves induce current and overload the circuits, causing it to blow, or some such logic.

  He then looked at his house and Max’s. God, please protect my family.

  ~~~

  Lisa was past the point of panicking. This nervous Mexican man looked like he was going to kill them. So, did his partner who went back outside several minutes ago. What did they want, she wondered. Why us? And what if either Bill or Max wandered in on them? She said a quick prayer.

  At the amen, an explosion rang out a few houses away. Both Lisa and Sally were jarred, jumping slightly out of their seats. The nervous Mexican holding them hostage, the younger of the two, nervously walked towards the patio door, probably to look outside and see what caused the explosion.

  The sharp crack of gunshot blasted right outside their dining room window.

  “Oh, God, Daddy,” Sally shrieked. Lisa squeezed her hand even tighter.

  The young Mexican, already half out the patio door, turned back inside and ran toward the window and the sound of the gunshot. His rifle slung forward and pointed in front of him. When he was at the window, he was startled to see Señor Max, the man they were after, rise up slowly outside, near the window, pointing his pistol towards the street. He was about to surprise Señor Max. Lifting his rifle level to his right eye, the young Mexican’s barrel bounced around with his heavy breathing and fear. But it was hard to miss at this distance, and Señor Max still hadn’t turned around. His finger curled around the trigger. He started to apply pressure.

  ~~~

  Max quietly and slowly rose, staying out of the view of the window. He kept his gun steady on the man he shot in the head, making sure he wasn’t a threat any longer. Feeling satisfied, he turned towards the window to deal with the next bad guy, who was already standing behind the window with his gun pointed directly at him.

  The gunshot caused Max to jump and stumble back a couple of steps, as he also futilely attempted to meet the assaulter with his own weapon. However, it was too late. He was in shock, not from being shot, but seeing the young Mexican’s chest explode through the window and then collapse out and onto the windowsill, where he came to rest, a flop of matted black hair hanging below his head. Max instinctively felt his body for some evidence of the wound he had to have. His mind and body attempted to reconcile and make sense of what just happened. Maybe it was Sally or Lisa? His mind wrestled with the only plausible answer.

  Satisfied he was unharmed, he briskly walked to the King’s back patio door. In the doorway, partially obscured by the curtains, which were flowing with the ocean breezes, was a man pointing some sort of gun at him.

  ~~~

  Bill heard the gunshot, just below the terrace. Maybe a minute later, he heard another gunshot which resonated below, this time more muffled.

  “Dammit. Focus, Bill,” he yelled, lowering his face again behind the eyepi
ece of the 50 caliber Barrett sniper rifle. The sight picture was instantaneous and his target was getting closer.

  However, the damned image wouldn’t stay still. The lead stranger was walking toward him, but the vaporous heat of the dusty Mexican road added a surreal undulating distortion to the landscape in his eyepiece, as if just below and out of sight, the desert was on fire. Bill was shaking. In spite of the firmness of the gun’s bipod and the 90-degree heat, he was chilled by the awful task given to him. His chest was pounding so hard, he felt as if his ribs were being bruised from the inside by each rapid beat of his heart. The heat, the humidity, the movement of his enemy, along with his fear, all conspired to cause his target to dance around the rifle’s crosshairs, which he was having more and more difficulty holding still over the man’s body. You can do this.

  He enjoyed hunting animals and he had taken down many over the years, albeit with weapons far less complicated and powerful. But, he had never shot a person, thankfully. Even with their Christian faith, his wife and he never questioned their firmness in killing someone who had broken into their house or threatened their family, having discussed this possibility on numerous occasions. That scenario always seemed easy. After all, it would be defensive and perhaps reactionary, with no time to think. The contemplation before pulling this trigger was certainly different. But, isn’t it also defensive, he reasoned.

  The picture laid out for him by Max was pretty straightforward. Henchmen for the cartel were approaching from the North by foot. They intend to kill you, your family, and me, but if you shoot the leader, the others may go away and not bother us. If you don’t shoot, they will kill us all.

  He knew he had to do this. His wife, his daughter, and his friend’s lives depended on him doing this. His indecision started to shrink slightly now.

  The advanced eyepiece gave him more information than what he wanted to know. Strange the electronics even worked, when everything else didn’t, from what Max said. He considered the most important facts it provided: Distance to target: 1857… 1856 meters, Temperature: 90.6, Humidity: 57.4%. He considered how much the bullet would drop, but shrugged it off, knowing that even if it dropped a foot, this missile would stop its intended target.