The End of the World Series (Book 1): Survive The Collapse

by McDonald, Clyde

  I can’t just leave it there. What if the cars start up again? I’ll get towed. We can’t afford a bill like that right now. Or what if someone steals it? It’s not a great car, but it’s how I get to work.

  Her thoughts consumed her. She hadn’t even heard him the first time he had shouted at her.

  “Hey, lady!”

  She turned towards the sound. It was a pair of police officers. The man was the one to address her – large with dark hair and fuzzy eyebrows, he glowered at her. “You shouldn’t be out right now! What are you doing walking around?”

  She stared at him.

  “You gotta go home! Don’t cause any more trouble than there already is.”

  She lingered for a moment. His words confused her. She was already going home. She hadn’t even done anything wrong. Why was he speaking to her this way?

  “I’m not causing any trouble, officer. I’m on my way home right now, and I don’t appreciate your tone,” she said accusingly. There was no reason for his outburst.

  “Excuse me?” he barked. “Are you questioning a police officer?” He pulled a taser from its holster on his side and pointed it at her. “We’re out here trying to keep people safe! We don’t need folks getting combative. Try it again! I won’t have any problem taking you down.”

  “Gary, calm down!” his partner shouted. A small woman with her braids pulled into a bun, she yanked his arm down. The man still glared at Aby, but kept his arms lowered. The woman turned to address Aby. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. My partner didn’t mean any of that. He’s a good guy, but the stress is getting to him. I’m sure you’ve noticed the state of the city. It’s been a rough day for the police.”

  “The whole city is this way?” Aby asked, incredulous.

  “Yes, ma’am, as far as we can tell. We can’t be sure since our radios went out, but we’ve been patrolling for a while. It’s the same all over.”

  Oh my God, she thought.

  “My partner is right, though. It’s best that you hurry home,” the officer continued. “People are starting to act funny, and we wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

  Aby thanked the officers and continued on her way, walking faster now. She zipped her jacket up to her neck and walked with her hands beneath her arms. Maintaining awareness would help keep her safe, so she listened hard to everything around her. Her ears rang softly with the effort. After almost an hour of walking, she heard shouting ahead of her on the other side of the road.

  That’s not shouting. That’s chanting.

  She turned her head to look across the street but kept walking forward. Was this some kind of terrorist attack? Why are those people organized?

  Her heart pounded faster as her mind rattled off all the possibilities. Her anxiety erupted and she broke into a run. There were seven lanes in the road. The distance between her and the chanting pack of strangers was reasonable, but fear forced her to hurry past them.

  What is going on? That was too creepy!

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  She reached the outskirts of the city. Ahead of her was the pharmacy she and Jake used to fill his father’s prescriptions. The lights were out, but she could see someone moving around inside. The figure walked along the isles slowly.

  Must be an employee, she reasoned. I wonder why they haven’t left yet?

  Then the figure burst out of the pharmacy, grunting as they shoved the heavy, normally automatic doors open. It was a middle-aged woman with a short haircut that just screamed, “motherhood.” She tore across the street clutching an armful of different medications. She was stealing from the pharmacy.

  Aby kept walking, still looking back wide-eyed at the scene she had witnessed. The woman was long gone, but the image remained in her mind.

  What could be happening at home to make her so desperate?

  Ahead was an intersection that she needed to cross to get home. It seemed noisier than other areas she had passed. The street was full of dead cars, but a handful appeared to be running. Of course, there was no room for them to get around. The drivers yelled at people standing in the road. The people yelled back at the drivers.

  How has everyone unraveled so quickly? It’s only been a few hours.

  She studied the mob ahead of her. More people were pouring in from the adjacent side streets, totaling the number of aggressors to at least thirty.

  They all look so angry... How can I get around them?

  Everyone was screaming and threatening each other with their fists. A few people even carried weapons – wrenches, baseball bats… even a couple of knives. One man began beating another with his bat. A few people rushed to his aid, but even more joined in with the beating. The fight spread quickly. Soon everyone in the road was fighting somebody else. Drivers tried to run people over while pedestrians jumped on their hoods and beat their windshields. The fray was growing more and more violent. And they were all blocking Aby’s path home.

  Three

  Jake

  Zach stomped towards him. He wasn’t an incredibly intelligent man by any means, but he was much larger than Jake. He was gruff and muscular and had the tiniest hint of insanity in his eyes. “Give me your keys! I’m taking your car, asshole,” he demanded.

  Jake scoffed. Why the hell would he do that?

  “I’m not giving you my car. It doesn’t even run,” he replied, trying to keep his cool. If he spoke calmly, then perhaps Zach would become calm too.

  “You’re lying! You just want me to be trapped here!”

  So much for calm, thought Jake.

  Zach rushed forward and took a swing at him. Jake managed to dodge his fist but failed to see the second swing as he did so. The blow hit him square in the jaw. Its force made his vision go fuzzy. Zach started another swing, but Jake stepped backward. Ears ringing, he whipped out his handgun from behind his back.

  Zach throws up his hands and walks backwards. “You freaking psycho! Why the hell do you have a gun at work?!” He continues backing away and flips him off before turning and running out of sight.

  “Damn, that guy is insane,” Jake sighs in relief. He hadn’t wanted to use the gun. He was pretty confident that he wouldn’t need to, but Zach was a big guy and he couldn’t afford to get the tar beat out of him at a time like this.

  Jake stood bent over, supporting his weight with his hands on his knees. His ears were still ringing. He knew things would devolve quickly under the circumstances, but the speed still stunned him. He had just walked out of the building, for Christ’s sake.

  He looked up at the fifth floor of the building. The glass was mirrored on the outside, so it was impossible for him to see the interior. He was certain, though, that someone would have seen that little altercation. Security would be alerted of an armed man on the premises.

  It’s best that I get going, I think. No need to linger.

  Jake turned, threw his bag on his back, and began the trek home. He walked at a steady pace, fast enough to make good progress without wearing out too quickly. The drive to his apartment was only twenty minutes, but walking would take a couple of hours. Time was not on his side. He needed to get more gear, find Aby, and get going. The city wasn’t going to be safe again for a long time. The longer it took them to leave, the harder it would be to make it out.

  Walking through the city gave Jake a chance to evaluate the situation further. Most of the cars were dead, but a few were still running. The stopped cars created an obstacle course through which the remaining drivers weaved. It seemed that modern cars had all fried while old vehicles continued to run. This made sense to him since cars had become increasingly reliant on electronics over the years. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but, at the moment, it certainly wasn’t a very good thing.

  God, I hope Aby is okay. I forgot that she had to leave early today. She might be somewhere in the city right now, and I have no way to find her.

  Aby did not share his enjoyment in emergency preparedness. She refused to keep “a stupid go-bag that she would never nee
d” in her car. It had taken him months to convince her to make plans in the event of disaster where they couldn’t reach each other. They had decided to meet at their apartment before going anywhere else. Jake had been serious about the plans, but Aby treated them like a game. To her, the discussion had been akin to deciding how to spend their money if they had ever won the lottery.

  Jake kept walking quickly through the city. He had been making a mental list of his next steps to help pass the time.

  I’ll need to check all the gear to see what’s still working. I’ll throw everything useful into our bags. Then I’ll add food and medical supplies…

  His mind wandered down the path of preparation, determining how much work he and Aby would need to do before they could leave. If she got home quickly, then they might be able to leave before dark.

  He was nearly home, and nothing significant had happened after his altercation with Zach. There had been a lot of dead cars, some people running, and a few cops here and there. The police seemed just as confused as the civilians and lingered in groups without intent. Jake couldn’t imagine being in their shoes right now. They were expected to maintain peace and order throughout the city, but the EMP had likely knocked out all of their communications.

  “There’s our building,” Jake muttered softly to himself. He spoke to himself often. Most people thought it was weird, but the habit helped him think.

  Their apartment was in a small complex which consisted of one residential building and one small office building. The exterior paint was peeling, and the roof needed repaired. Inside, plumbing backed up regularly and only certain outlets were safe to use. The place was kind of a dump, but it was cheap and allowed them to save money for the wedding. They had no intention of raising their family in that place.

  Not sure when we’ll get married now. If it’s like this everywhere, it would take weeks for all of the guests to arrive. He chuckled at the thought of his soon-to-be brother-in-law riding his reclining bicycle from Indianapolis to Pittsburgh. Too bad we already sent out those Save the Date things, he thought.

  Jake noticed that there weren’t many cars in the parking lot. The lights were all out too, as he suspected they would be. He took out his keys and unlocked the front door. One advantage of living in a crappy apartment was that none of the doors relied on those new fancy key fobs for access.

  He took the stairs to the second floor and moseyed down the hall to their apartment. The hallway was eerily silent without the whirr of the heating mechanisms. He felt safer inside the building. Most people would be gone during the day, and he doubted anyone had gotten back as quickly as he did on foot.

  Their apartment was equally quiet. He tried the corded phone in the kitchen, but it didn’t even give a dial tone. He hadn’t expected it to work, but it was worth a try. None of the electronics in the house were running. Without a phone or a computer, he had no way to contact Aby.

  “Of course I’m worried, but there’s nothing I can do without knowing where she is,” he said to the empty room. “Best I can do is start packing so we can leave quickly when she gets home.”

  He pulled a few backpacks out from under their bed. They were part of their old hiking gear, but they were sturdy and would hold a lot of provisions. Jake began throwing in medical supplies and food. All his electronic gear was fried, but he had anticipated that. He kept packing and checked his watch.

  “Even this is dead?” He tapped on the clock face. Nothing happened. “Dammit! This is my favorite watch.”

  A shout suddenly pierced the silence.

  What was that?

  He tucked his Glock into the waistband of his pants and grabbed a large folding knife from one of the packs before advancing into the hallway. From there, the shouts were more recognizable. It was the woman in B22, and she was screaming at someone to get away from her. Jake knew that the police had been called to that apartment several times. Aby had heard the visits were for domestic violence concerns.

  Jake strode towards B22 with fury.

  Four

  Deron

  Deron stared at his blank television screen. It had stopped working some time ago. He threw an empty beer can at it. The can missed and landed on the floor amongst all the others. His apartment was full of them. He was a lazy good-for-nothing, so he rarely bothered to clean them up. He was just going to drink more anyway. Cleaning up meant he would have to take the trash out to the dumpster sooner, and Deron did not feel like leaving his small apartment.

  Damn TV won’t work, he thought. I’m gonna miss my golf game because some idiot knocked down a power line. He got up from the shabby armchair and went to the kitchen, pulling another Coors out of the fridge. The power had gone out a couple of hours ago, but the beer was still cold. He didn’t care about the power. He was pissed about the game.

  Ugh. I’m hungry. Deron wondered when he had last gone to the grocery store. It couldn’t remember, so it must have been more than a week ago.

  He riffled through the pantry in search of some chips or pretzels. He used to love to cook, but the motivation to do so simply wasn’t there anymore. Part of him urged Deron to make something healthier. He had been eating junk for weeks. Just the thought of cooking something even as simple as a grilled cheese, however, exhausted him. The tiny voice shouting in the back of his mind was often overruled by his body’s estimated energy reserves. Finally, he located a half empty bag of cheese-filled pretzels.

  He hadn’t always felt this way, but depression had a way of changing a person. Deron was about eighty-five percent sure that was what he had. He had searched his symptoms online – fatigue, forgetfulness, constant guilt, loss of appetite. The list was longer, but there were only so many words you could type into the search bar. He had been surprised to learn that this was what depression really felt like. He had always assumed that depressed people just felt sad all the time. Deron didn’t feel sad, really. Just exhausted.

  Some people went to counseling when they became depressed, but Deron couldn’t afford that. He lost his health insurance when the company canned him a few months ago. Instead, he drank. Beer was much cheaper than therapy. He knew it wasn’t good for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. His life sucked, so why should he bother caring what happened to it?

  He flopped down into his armchair and stared at the blank TV some more, sipping his beer.

  Then the screaming started. It sounded like some lady down the hall. He ignored it at first. It’ll probably stop soon. Can’t be anything important. Deron took a few more sips of his beer.

  But the screaming did not stop. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but it didn’t sound like it was good. The fact that he was concerned at all must mean the situation was especially bad. It took quite a bit, these days, to unsettle him. He was often too busy feeling numb to care about anything, but these screams were filled with terror.

  He got up and grabbed the metal baseball bat from under the bed.

  I’m too tired to deal with this, but I sure as hell can’t let whatever that is continue. Woman sounds like she’s freaking dying. He strode into the hallway, carrying the bat with him.

  The screams were coming from B22. As he got closer to the door, he saw a man standing in front of the apartment. After a moment, he realized the man was his neighbor, Jake. Jake was a good guy. He even gave Deron a few rides to work, before he got laid off.

  “Hey, Jake,” Deron whispered, tapping him on the shoulder. The guy whipped around with a raised fist but lowered it when he saw Deron.

  “Oh, hey man. Sorry, I didn’t know it was you,” Jake said, looking back at the door.

  “You know what’s going on in there?” Deron asked between the screams. They could hear furniture toppling over inside.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure the guy who lives here beats his wife. Cops have been by a few times to check things out, but the wife always denies that everything. Says nothing is wrong.”

  “Sounds pretty wrong in there to me,” Deron said. “I’ve got
a bat. How do you want to handle this?”

  Jake paused for a moment, probably thinking. “The phones are out, so we’ll have to take care of this ourselves. Let’s break down the door and rush in. I’ve got a gun, so I’ll be in front. You stay behind me and keep that bat ready. We need to get him away from her,” he said.

  “Sounds good. I’ll kick down the door, then you run in ahead of me. I’ll come in behind you. We’ll start on three. Ready?”

  Jake nodded.

  The two men counted down in unison before Deron slammed the heel of his dominant foot just above the doorknob. It took several kicks before he heard a satisfying CRACK! As planned, Jake rushed in first with Deron right behind him. Inside, a beefy man with piles of hair poking out the collar of a dirty, white T-shirt towered over his screaming wife. He was whipping her with a thick leather belt. Blood dripped down her face and arms as she tried to shield herself from the attack. Deron could hear the sharp SNAP of the belt each time it made contact with the woman.

  Deron was steaming with anger as he took in the scene before them. He let out a guttural cry and rushed the assailant, bat raised. The man heard his advance and turned to catch the bat just as Deron swung. He was stronger than he looked and ripped the weapon away from Deron with one hand, smashing him across the face with the backswing.

  Deron dropped. His nose was pouring blood, and he could hardly see. He lay on the floor cradling his head. When he closed his eyes, he could see stars and hear the blood pounding in his head. When he opened his eyes, he could just barely see Jake stepping towards the man with his gun pointed at him. He could barely hear their exchange over the ringing in his ears.

  “What are you doing in my home?” the big man bellowed.