In The End: a pre-apocalypse novel

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In The End: a pre-apocalypse novel Page 17

by Edward M Wolfe


  No one spoke after everyone was aboard, except for Liz who asked where they were going. No one had an answer for her. They had no destination in mind, only objectives: water and shelter. They had agreed that heading west on I-70 made the most sense; away from Denver and toward Utah. Maybe it would be safe to stop in Grand Junction 150 miles away.

  They could follow the highway alongside the Colorado River all the way there, stopping as needed for water, and maybe even catching some fish occasionally, if the water hadn’t turned to poison.

  ###

  The End

  _________________________________

  Continue reading for a preview of “In The End – 2: An American Apocalypse”

  In The End - 2

  An American Apocalypse

  Copyright 2015

  Edward M Wolfe

  All rights reserved.

  One

  Terry drove the RV west on Interstate 70. Jim rode shotgun, literally, with a Mossberg 500 Police Special resting partially on his lap with the barrel on the dashboard. An open box of 12 gauge shells sat on the center console. They weren’t necessarily expecting trouble, but they were a bit spooked by the fact that they hadn’t seen Carl’s body anywhere as they drove away from the lodge. If he wasn’t dead, then he could be sitting somewhere plotting revenge. He could be sitting somewhere in view of the highway, with a rifle. Jim kept his eyes peeled for people or vehicles as Terry focused on the road.

  Trey and Monica sat on one side of the small dining table with Tori sitting across from them. Angela and Liz had the best room in the moving house. They were in the bedroom napping, until it was someone else’s turn to have the bed. Terry drove slowly and cautiously over the unplowed highway.

  “I don’t think it would be that much trouble to find a motorcycle trailer. It just really sucks leaving my bike behind.” Trey spoke quietly so as not to be overheard by Jim and Terry who had vetoed the idea of spending time looking for a trailer. They wanted to find someplace to finish out the winter. Someplace with clean drinking water.

  “We’ll come back and get it. Don’t worry,” Monica said, trying to console him.

  “Yeah. If it’s not stolen by then.”

  Tori was less sympathetic. “Trey, have you noticed there’s hardly anyone up here? If you consider the tiny population that’s still on the mountain – what are the odds of there being a bike thief among them?”

  “You’re probably right,” he replied, but didn’t look very assured. “I just feel naked without it.”

  Neither of the women understood. They were both leaving their cars behind, and while they weren’t thrilled with the idea, they weren’t despondent either. They could always come back for them. Or if America was in the middle of world war three, they might just have their pick of replacements.

  Two blasts from a trucker’s air horn sounded and the three of them quickly got up from the table and went for the windows on the other side of the RV to watch the truck go past.

  “Did you guys see that?” Trey called out toward the front of the vehicle.

  “Yeah. That might be a good sign. He could be bringing in supplies,” Terry replied.

  “Or body bags,” Jim said.

  Trey walked up the narrow path to the cab of the RV. He stood behind the front seats, holding onto the swivel chair a few feet behind the passenger seat and offset toward the center.

  “Did you see what company that semi was from?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Jim replied, “It was haulin’ a WalMart trailer.”

  “Maybe we should turn around and try to catch up to him. Find out what it’s like west of here.”

  “We’d never catch up,” Terry replied. “With no chains, we have to drive way too slow.”

  “Besides,” Jim added, “there’s a town comin’ up in about—“

  A loud crack sounded and Terry flew back in his seat, grabbing his neck. The RV swerved sharply to the right and off of the road. Trey was thrown to the left, lost his balance and fell. Jim reached for the steering wheel and tried to gain control of the large, unwieldy vehicle.”

  “What the fuck!?” Jim shouted.

  “I’ve been shot,” Terry said, looking at his blood-covered hands.

  Jim took his eyes off the road for a quick glance at Terry. “Somebody, help!”

  Terry slid down off the driver’s seat to make room for Jim to take over. Jim hopped over him as he continued to wrestle the RV back onto the road. Trey crawled over to Terry and began pulling him backwards to get his feet out from under the dash. Tori and Monica cautiously approached, then both of them swayed to the side and lost their footing as the RV went into a ditch and came to an abrupt halt.

  Angela emerged from the back of the RV carrying Elizabeth who was crying. She comforted the little girl as she took in the scene in front of her with a groggy mind.

  “What happened? Did we crash?”

  Tori got up and rushed over to meet Angela halfway, taking her daughter from her. She whispered in Angela’s ear, “Terry got shot.”

  “Oh no!” Angela rushed up to where Monica and Trey were kneeling next to Terry’s head. Monica was holding a bloody kitchen towel to his neck.

  “I think I’m okay, you guys. Either I’m not hurt very badly, or I’m in shock. How does it look?”

  Monica took the towel away and carefully wiped at the blood around the wound. She saw a piece of glass sticking out of Terry’s neck.

  “Hold still!”

  Monica grasped the glass with her fingernails and slowly pulled it out. Blood came pouring out of the unblocked hole in his flesh.

  Jim joined the small crowd in the walkway. “How is he? Is it bad?”

  “I don’t see a bullet hole anywhere. Just a piece of the windshield that got embedded in his neck.” She looked around the rest of his upper body, scouting for any other bleeding or holes in his clothing.

  “You need to take off his shirt to make sure. He’s got blood all over it.” Tori sat at the dining table with Liz, directing them from afar.

  As Trey and Monica examined Terry for other injuries, Jim peered over the console through the windshield. He scouted the terrain of trees and mountainside, looking for the shooter. He couldn’t spot anyone or anything moving. He closed the divider that blocked off the front seats.

  “You guys keep this closed. I’m going outside to find whoever did this.”

  Monica bolted up from the floor. “I’m going with you.”

  “No. Stay here and help with Terry.”

  “I think between Angela, Trey and Tori, they’ve got it covered. I’m going.”

  “Someone just sniped Terry. It’s not safe out there.”

  “Then it’s not safe for you either. How would you like it if I told you to stay here while I go out and look for the sniper?”

  “Fine. Are you better with a rifle, shotgun, or pistol?”

  Monica hesitated, then opened one of the lower cabinets where they stored the weapons. She’d prefer a shotgun, but figured if someone was using a rifle against them, then she’d need a rifle too. She grabbed an American Arms 9mm paratrooper rifle with a strap.

  “Trey. Can you shoot a rifle with a scope?” Jim asked.

  “I can try.”

  “Open the partition just enough to see out, and try to cover us. If you see anyone or anything move, shoot it. You don’t have to hit anything, but if we hear a shot from behind us, we’ll know you spotted something. Okay?”

  “Yeah, Jim. You got it.” Trey came back to the cabinets and looked through the rifles until he found a hunting rifle. He grabbed a Remington thirty-aught-six, then looked in a drawer with boxes of ammunition trying to figure out which box was the right one.

  Jim took a newer rifle from the cabinet, exchanged it for the one Trey had, then handed him a box of .308 and went to the side door. He opened it and looked both ways before jumping out and landing in deep snow. He turned back toward the door and held out his hand for Monica. She made a face, ignored his hand, a
nd jumped out.

  Two

  Angela found no other injuries on Terry so she bandaged his neck and gave him a clean shirt from his duffel bag.

  “I can’t believe someone just shot at you, driving down the road. What is wrong with people? What if a bullet had hit Liz? Do people even care about anything?”

  Tori pulled her daughter closer to her and assured her that everything was okay.

  “Trey, let me see that,” Terry said, reaching for the rifle.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine.” Terry took the rifle and looked through the scope with the barrel sticking through the gap in the partition. He alternated closing one eye then the other, getting a broad view, then the close-up view. “There’s someone! Damn. We need radios.”

  “You’re supposed to shoot to alert them,” Trey said.

  “I saw someone heading in the opposite direction. No one’s in danger. But that’s probably the bastard that shot at me. I’m gonna go catch up with Jim and Monica. Everyone should arm themselves in case there’s more than just one guy.”

  “I’ll make sure everyone here is safe.”

  “You’ll need a close-range weapon, Trey.”

  “Oh, right.” Trey went back to the lower cabinets and found a shotgun. This time he knew what ammo to take from the drawer. He grabbed a box of .12 gauge shells and went back to the front to look out the windshield. He saw Jim and Monica slogging through the snow close to the tree-line five yards away from the highway.

  As he stood there watching them walk, he saw a snowball fly through the air and land to the left of Monica. She and Jim swirled around, aiming their rifles and ready to shoot, only to see Terry waving at them to wait up.

  Jim motioned for Terry to get closer to the trees where it was easier to walk. Terry veered to the right, then when he reached the more shallow snow, he jogged and caught up with them.

  “I saw someone up there,” he said, pointing to where he’d seen the back of a man disappear into the trees going up the mountain. “Follow me.”

  “Did he have a rifle?” Jim asked.

  “I couldn’t tell. I just saw the back of a parka slip between branches and he was gone.”

  Monica said, “It was him.”

  Jim asked, “How do you know?”

  “Because he just saw someone run off the road and then he went in the opposite direction. If he wasn’t guilty, he would’ve come to see if we were okay.”

  “Not necessarily,” Jim replied.

  They hiked uphill, following Terry’s lead, then they followed fresh footprints in the snow. When they reached the point where Terry saw the man disappear, they stopped to catch their breath.

  “Stop right there. That’s far enough!”

  The three of them froze and looked toward the voice but saw no one.

  “Drop your guns,” the voice said.

  Jim scanned the woods ahead of him. He couldn’t see anyone, but he saw which way the footprints went. He gestured to Monica and Terry to back up a bit.

  “Fuck you. Drop your gun. There’s three of us and one of you,” Jim yelled back.

  “I don’t want any trouble. Let’s just go our separate ways.”

  “If you didn’t want trouble, why’d you shoot at us?”

  “I’m sorry about that. I thought you were them Chinese what’s been killin’ everyone.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jim wondered if they were dealing with a lunatic.

  Suddenly Monica bolted forward past the two men and rounded the outcrop. She dropped her rifle and ran right up to the man and grabbed his rifle, pulling it away from him and throwing it to the ground.

  “Are you fucking crazy?” Jim yelled at her as he and Terry came up behind her.

  Monica grabbed the man’s jacket in her fists and repeatedly slammed him into the rocky mountain wall behind him.

  “Why did you shoot at us?” she screamed in his face.

  “I didn’t know! Someone get her offa me!”

  Jim snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her backwards. “Come on. Let go!”

  She reluctantly released the man’s parka from her grip and let Jim pull her away. As soon as he let go of her, she picked up her rifle and headed back down the mountain, following the path they had created on the way up, breathing hard, and not saying another word.

  “Is she your attack bitch?”

  Terry hit the man with a right hook.

  The man fell back against the wall of rock behind him and brought a hand up to his face. He looked at it and saw blood, then looked at Terry with a challenge in his eyes. Then he looked at Jim and changed his mind. Jim was staring at him with no expression, but there was something dark in his eyes.

  Three

  “Here comes Monica, but she’s by herself. I don’t get it. Where the fuck did they go?”

  “Is she okay?” Angela asked.

  “She looks okay. Pissed off, maybe. She’s still got her rifle.”

  Angela came up behind Trey and tried to see through the gap above Trey’s head.

  “I don’t see her.”

  “That’s because she’s already—“

  The side door to the RV swung out and Monica climbed in. She laid her rifle down on the table. Trey alternated between watching her and looking out the windshield.

  “What happened out there? Where’s Jim and Terry?”

  “They’re talking to the asshole that shot Terry.”

  Angela looked at her with raised eyebrows. “They’re talking to him?”

  “I guess. I left right after we found him. After they pulled me off of him, actually.”

  Trey left the partition and came closer to Monica.

  “Are you alright?”

  She took a deep breath then blew it out.

  “Yeah.”

  Trey picked up her rifle and put it in the cabinet with the others.

  “Do you want to tell us what happened? What’s going on, Monica?”

  “I don’t know, Trey! I told you everything I know. I was barely there. The guy’s a nutcase. He said he shot at us because he thought were Chinese.”

  “That’s crazy. None of us look at all oriental. Did he say anything else?”

  “Trey…” Monica stared at him.

  “Okay. I got it. You don’t know. I just don’t understand what’s going on, or why Jim and Terry haven’t come back. Do you think I should go check on them?”

  Monica sat down across from Angela and put her elbows on the table, then lowered her face into her palms.

  Angela said, “I haven’t heard any gunshots, so they’re probably just talking to the guy. He didn’t have anyone else with him, did he, Monica?”

  “He was alone,” she mumbled into her hands.

  Trey went back to the front and peeked through the partition gap. There was still nothing to see. He went back to the table and stood there, fidgeting. He didn’t know what to do with himself.

  “Did he say he thought we looked Chinese? I don’t get it.”

  “Quit asking me about the damned Chinese!” Monica yelled.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just….”

  Trey walked back to the front and looked out the windshield again. He picked up his rifle and looked at the mountain trail through the scope.

  “I can’t see shit out there. This really sucks not knowing what’s going on out there. We need to get radios.”

  Monica lifted her head and looked at him. “Trey, go up the trail. It turns right at the top and comes to a stop. You can’t miss them. “

  “I can’t leave you guys alone.”

  “Bullets are just as destructive to the human body when a woman fires the gun. Just go.”

  Trey looked at Angela to gauge her feelings on being left alone.

  “We’ll be fine. They’re out there talking to the guy who shot at us. What more do we have to worry about? Besides, I feel perfectly safe with Monica here. She’s the one who shot Carl, right?”

  “Okay. I�
�ll be back in few. I just want to ask them what’s up, then I’ll be right back.”

  “Take your time,” Monica said, as he opened the door and hopped down to the ground.

  The door slammed, and a minute later Tori came out of the bedroom, gently closing the door behind her.

  “What was Trey yelling about Chinese? I was afraid he was going to wake Liz right after I finally got her to sleep again.”

  Monica shook her head with a weary expression. Angela spoke up.

  “The guy who shot Terry said he thought he was Chinese, or something.”

  Monica said, “He actually said he thought we were the Chinese who’ve been killing everyone.”

  “Oh my God.” Tori held out her arms and examined them.

  “Are you okay, Tori?”

  “Look at my arms.”

  Angela and Monica looked and saw goose bumps all over them.

  “What’s the matter?” Monica asked.

  “Chinese people killing everyone?”

  “It’s nothing to worry about.” Monica reached out and put a hand on Tori’s arm. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Take my seat. I’m gonna go get some snow to melt.”

  “Wait, Monica. Don’t go out there.”

  “Tori, what’s wrong? You look terrified,” Angela said.

  Tori looked at the two women and saw only one weapon among them. She went to the drawer with pistols and took out something she hoped was a small caliber. She went back to the table, sat down, and started whispering.

  “You guys, this is going to sound totally crazy, but last week Liz told me about a very weird dream she had. Keep in mind that this is coming from a child who is three years old and has never seen a violent movie or TV show. She’s never been to daycare and has only played with one other girl her age at our apartment complex. I trust that our babysitter respects my rules and doesn’t watch violent movies with her.”

  “Okay. What did she tell you?” Monica asked.

 

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