United States Of Apocalypse

by Mark Tufo

  “Really? He is from where I’m standing,” John said. He took a step toward the man.

  Herbert stepped between and put up his hands, looking at the man. “Can you drive?”

  John shook his head and stomped a foot on the ground. “No way. He is not going to run get the rest of them.”

  Herbert glanced at John and frowned. “Back up, son, and get the gun out of my face. Now.”

  John hesitated, looking at Darlene, who looked away. John lifted the rifle and put the barrel in the air before stepping away.

  “I can drive,” the man said. Darlene didn’t think it was possible, but if she was looking at the choice of getting away or being shot by a madman, she’d take her chances driving too.

  Herbert stared at the man. “This was a mistake. A really horrible mistake. I heard a gunshot and so did you. So did Dusty. We thought you were going to ambush us. You would’ve done the same thing.”

  The man nodded. He was losing blood, and Darlene didn’t think he would make it.

  Herbert turned to Darlene. “Help me get him into the cab and the driver’s seat. Then we can put Dusty in the rear.”

  The man didn’t protest as he was helped into the pickup truck.

  John growled and walked away.

  “Are you sure you can drive?” Herbert asked.

  The man gave a weak smile. “I’m going to try. Why are you letting me go?”

  “Because no one else needs to die. I am sorry for what happened today. I truly am. Perhaps we can get together at some point and bury the hatchet, especially if there are strangers trying to kill us locals. The town itself is overrun with men carrying weapons. I didn’t see anyone left,” Herbert said.

  “They raid at night,” the man said. He began coughing.

  “We’ll put Dusty in the back. Give us a second,” Herbert said. Darlene helped Herbert lift Dusty and place him on the bed of the pickup truck.

  Herbert leaned close to Dusty and frowned. “I’m sorry, you old codger. This went on way too long between our families. And for what? I’m really sorry, and if I could take it all back, I would in a heartbeat. I swear on my life.”

  Darlene slapped the back of the truck when Herbert turned away to wipe the tears from his eyes. She didn’t stare but kept an eye on the pickup truck as it made a slow arc.

  The driver looked back at them without expression on his face and stomped on the gas pedal.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Day 27

  “Made it another night.” Mike said as he came inside the house.

  “Why are you in my room?” Tynes asked with a stretch.

  “I’m not, man, you’re on my couch,” Mike said while Tynes looked around trying to orient himself. “It’s my couch since you took your room back.”

  Tynes sat up. “Everything is mine, I own the house, remember?”

  “Just semantics, man. Can anybody really own anything? And you had better not have drooled on my pillow.” Mike walked over to make sure it was not, indeed, wet.

  “Don’t pull out Descartes on me this early in the morning.” Tynes dragged a hand across his face.

  “Early? It’s after noon.”

  Tynes stood, at first thinking he was late for something, then he realized that he really didn’t need to be anywhere. “No D Streeters yet?” Tynes asked suspiciously.

  “Weird, right? I figured for sure they’d come back last night. I should go see if Marlene, needs anything.” Mike said unabashedly.

  “Leave my neighbor’s wife alone. How’s Fred doing by the way?” Tynes asked.

  Fred Simpson was the owner of the Simpson Hardware Supply chain that had seven shops throughout greater New York and whose house had been breached. He’d forced them out but at the expense of a bullet to the shoulder.

  “He’s in a lot of pain; lucky for him, the bullet went straight through. Henrietta has enough pain pills to get the whole block high. My lovely Marlene is keeping an eye on him and doling out the meds. I think it would be worth getting shot just to have her nurse over me. I was thinking about shooting myself in the foot or something.” Mike had a faraway look in his eyes.

  “Give it a rest. She’s married,” Tynes said.

  “Yeah, but to Dutch. She’d probably thank me.”

  “I’m sure that’s what would happen. Let’s go see if anyone needs any help.”

  “What? Like we’re going to walk around the neighborhood on our beat or some shit? You do realize not all of us just woke up,” Mike told him.

  “Exactly, and you’ll be fine.”

  “I’m not a cop, and I hate to break it to you, buddy, but you aren’t one either anymore.”

  “Someone has to be,” Tynes said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I had my first reality check last night.”

  “Just last night? You sure are quick,” Mike said.

  “There was a damned war here last night, and no one came. In one month, we have gone from being the strongest nation in history to utter chaos. I still can’t even wrap my head around it. If we don’t watch out for everyone else, who will?”

  “Tynes, man, we need to watch out for each other, and that’s it. We can’t even begin to be responsible for others.”

  “What was last night?” Tynes asked.

  “We shared a common survival goal,” Mike said matter-of-factly.

  “Right. And us patrolling and helping others furthers that cause.”

  “No, man, it doesn’t. If people believe there’s still help out there, they will use it until there’s nothing left. They’ll be less inclined to do for themselves what they think someone will do for them.”

  “We can’t afford Old West justice out here,” Tynes said.

  “And you’re going to stop it?”

  “I have to try.”

  “Why? Because you were a cop? Assholes shot cops all the time, even when we were civilized. I bet now there are people targeting people like you just because they can. Why do you think the fucking Guard is sitting perched in their ivory tower? They get shot at every fucking time they leave those gates. Why bother helping when it’s clear people don’t want their help?”

  “Some do, Mike.”

  “Maybe, Tynes, but I don’t know how you’re going to sort them out. We are rapidly heading toward survival of the fittest. Even this little neighborhood union thing has a very short shelf life. If we have to move and we have to move quickly, who’s going to watch out for Fred or Henrietta?”

  “I will,” Tynes said.

  “Want to know what will happen then?” Mike asked.

  “Clue me in, Mr. Social Order Expert.”

  “You’ll find yourself alone guarding two invalids. The three of you will be the next to die in the anarchy. Well four, because I’ll probably stay with you, but I won’t be happy about it.”

  “You’re a funny guy, Mike.”

  “Funny how? Like funny weird or funny ha-ha?”

  “No, I mean you talk about all this lone-wolf crap and only looking out for number one. Yet you climbed that roof last night, risked your life to keep that blaze from spreading.”

  “I didn’t do that for him, I did it for me. If the neighborhood burned, I’d have nowhere comfortable to sleep.”

  “Uh huh. Let’s go.” Tynes grabbed Mike’s shoulder and ushered him out the door.

  Mike’s grip tightened on his rifle when he saw a car slowly approaching.

  “What is this now?” Tynes had not moved. Mike headed down the walkway.

  “I see you made it through the night?” Pembroke was in the backseat, a small French Bulldog in his lap.

  Mike almost said, “No thanks to you.” But he had enough enemies. He saw no reason to add to that growing number. “You should have stopped by. We had a big block party, got a little out of hand at the end, but at least the cops didn’t show.”

  Pembroke laughed. “I see your razor wit hasn’t left you.”

  “It’s about all I have left.”

>   “I get the feeling, Michael, that no matter how bad things get—and they’re going to get real bad before they get better, if they ever get better that is—that you’re going to somehow come out the other side. You’re like me: a survivor.”

  Mike hoped that wasn’t necessarily the case. They were both survivors all right, but Pembroke would do just about anything to ensure his continued existence at any cost to those in his way. Mike wisely nodded.

  “I’ve got some payback I need to administer before I’m done.” Mike told him.

  “On who, the North Koreans? Is that a surprise? You didn’t know? You can thank them for the destruction of your city.”

  Tynes came up alongside Mike.

  “Officer Tynes, I’m happy to see you made it as well.”

  Tynes didn’t see the same reason to be as courteous as Mike had. “Checking on your investment?”

  “Shouldn’t I? If not for my help, I would imagine last night would have turned out very differently.”

  “Your help? I didn’t see you or any of your men out here.”

  “Careful, Officer Tynes. Just because I am feeling magnanimous today does not mean that cannot change.”

  Mike stepped in front of Tynes and bumped him backwards. “He lacks social graces, Mr. Pembroke. Officer Tynes, why don’t you maybe see if Henrietta needs her drool cup changed,” Mike said, never turning to look at the big man. Even still, he could feel the penetrating stare as it bore through his back. After a long moment, Tynes walked away.

  Pembroke laughed.

  “Sorry. He hasn’t quite figured out how things work these days.”

  “Ah...but you have. Haven’t you Mike? You knew that first week. I must admit I’m surprised you’ve stuck around here. This isn’t really how I’d pictured you. You could come to my fold, you know. There’s a real chance of making it there. I need more like you.”

  “I’ve hitched my cart, Mr. Pembroke.”

  “Sentimental attachments will get you killed, Michael.”

  Mike shrugged. “Don’t I know it.”

  “And still?”

  “I grew up Catholic. The guilt would weigh me down if I left now.”

  Pembroke laughed again. “You’ve brought more smiles to my face in ten minutes than anyone has in the last month. It would be worth having you around just for that.”

  “Oh, you’d get sick of me quick enough. That’s what all my exes say anyway. At first, they love it because I make them laugh constantly, then they start to get pissed off that I never take anything seriously.”

  “We’re still on for our grand heist?”

  “The National Guard raid? Of course.”

  “Good, good. Because you know how I feel about people who disappoint me. Oh, one more thing,” Pembroke said before he rolled his window up. “The D Streeters won’t be bothering you anymore, I mean unless of course, our relationship has altered?”

  “We’re still good, nothing has changed.”

  “Good, good. See you tomorrow night, then.” He motioned for his driver to move on.

  “What was that all about?” Tynes asked, sifting through the ashes of Radley’s home as Mike walked over to him.

  “You were right, just checking up on us.”

  “I don’t like him. Not sure getting him involved in this was such a good idea.”

  “Maybe not, but he got the D Streeters off our back.”

  “He did? How?”

  “Didn’t say, and I didn’t ask.”

  “How much pull does he really have?”

  “We’re going to find out tomorrow night, I think.”

  “I should have forced my way to Florida.”

  “Yeah, probably.”

  Chapter Thirty

  I-70

  Darlene pulled her belt another notch and sighed. She’d need a new belt soon if she kept losing weight. While she felt better than she had in years, she didn’t like being so tired all the time. Day in and day out, they’d secured the farm property and watched for an attack.

  John had been moody for days after they’d let the Sawyer man go, but he hadn’t argued with Herbert or Darlene. He’d simply taken every shift he could in the tree and stayed away from everyone.

  Of course, he’d been first in line when the deer he’d shot was prepared by Herbert in the green barn and Pheebz did her magic with the meat. They’d eaten venison for several lunches and dinners until it was finally gone, and no one ate more than Rosemary and her boys.

  The boys were still quiet, but Darlene could see they were more at ease, and they often accompanied her on the three-wheeler drives around the property to check the fences.

  She thought Austin had a little crush on her because he wouldn’t talk directly to her, preferring to tell Aiden what he was thinking, or for Aiden to ask the question on his mind.

  The boys went through the bushes and picked the berries one day, proudly bringing the full baskets inside and asking Pheebz if she could bake a pie with them. She smiled, and that night they had the greatest blueberry pie Darlene had ever eaten.

  But despite the days passing uneventfully, they were all walking on eggshells.

  Darlene, John, and Herbert took turns watching the farm, and Pheebz and Rosemary watched the news each night.

  They knew the Sawyer family wasn’t likely to let the killings go, especially of their patriarch, Dusty. If Herbert was right, Buck Sawyer would be leading the family, and he was a hothead. Right now, they were planning the next attack.

  Pheebz had her small garden on the side of the house, and Rosemary had taken it over. She’d been planting rows of different vegetables that could grow this time of year in California and looking ahead to the future growing seasons. Luckily, the glove compartment in her VW had been overstuffed with seed packets.

  “You want to take a ride with me?” Herbert asked Darlene before breakfast. John had already walked to the back of the property to sit in the tree stand until dark, taking a bowl of rice and beans and two bottles of water with him.

  “As long as it isn’t to town to buy eggs,” Darlene said.

  “I want to circle past the Boyette farm. See if they came back…or their daughter did. See if anyone else got the idea to squat there,” Herbert said.

  “Should we tell John?”

  “Yes. We need to swing by and let him know, not that it will do much good. John is in his own world right now.” Herbert led Darlene outside, where two three-wheelers waited. “I gassed them up and checked the tires this morning.”

  “It’s barely morning,” Darlene said and stared up at the cloudy sky. “You think we’ll get rain today? Finally?”

  Herbert shrugged. “You never know. We might get a quick storm. It’s hot enough already. I’m going to bet lightning and thunder show by the time we get back from our tour.”

  Darlene looked toward the trees where she knew John was sitting. “I wonder if he’s ever going to come back around.”

  “I sure hope so. His attitude is an added negative to this mess we’ve got ourselves in,” Herbert said.

  “Agreed. I feel so bad for him, though. He lost his wife.” Darlene sighed and got on the trike. “But there’s no excuse for being trigger happy and getting us into this mess, either.”

  “Do you believe he had no idea the Sawyers had come calling?” Herbert asked.

  Darlene thought about it for a moment. The tree stand was far from the house, but when she sat up there, she could see for a great distance, and anyone kicking up dirt on the driveway would be seen well before they got to the house. “No. I think he saw them. I also think he heard you and Dusty arguing, but there was a dead deer. He didn’t shoot at someone creeping up, which he had every right to do. If I was up there and I saw them coming, I would’ve had to protect us.”

  “If he saw Dusty drive up, why shoot the deer?”

  Darlene didn’t know. She started the three-wheeler. “If you saw a deer out there, would you take the shot? Chances are he didn’t put the two events together.”


  Herbert glanced back at the house. “We’re running low on some food. We always need meat, especially fresh. You ever slaughter a cow?”

  “Can’t really say I have.”

  “About six miles out is the Powell farm. My guess is two dozen cows and enough chickens to feed us for months. Who knows what else they have out there. They’re also an older couple who’ve been in this area forever. We might be able to go bargain with them for some of their livestock,” Herbert said.

  “Lead the way,” Darlene said.

  They both carried rifles and two pistols each, Herbert taking his time once they got on the main road. With the noise of the engines, it would be easy for anyone watching to hear them coming from a mile away. They pulled into the long drive of the Boyette farm without incident and right to the front of the house.

  It was quiet and clean, just as they’d left it.

  “Stay together,” Herbert said. He took his rifle and went to the front door, banging on it before looking into the windows on either side. After a minute or two, he led the way around the house.

  The click of a shotgun stopped Herbert and Darlene as they rounded the side of the house toward the back.

  Herbert put up his hands and smiled. “Hey, Terri. It’s me, Herbert Brinker. I’m your neighbor.”

  Darlene put up her hands as well. The woman looked crazy, mascara running down her face and her hands unsteady on the shotgun. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days, and her clothes were filthy.

  Herbert took a half step forward, and Terri shook her head. She was sobbing.

  “Put the gun down and let’s talk. What’s the matter, Terri?”

  “Drop the rifles,” Terri said quietly. “I don’t want to kill you.”

  “We don’t want that, either. We’re on your side,” Herbert said.

  Darlene bent slowly and put her rifle on the ground the same time Herbert did, putting both hands in the air.

  “The other guns, too,” Terri said, waving the shotgun for emphasis.

  Herbert nodded and put his handguns on the ground next to his rifle, as did Darlene.

  Terri was clearly unstable. Darlene could only imagine what she’d been through the past few weeks. Any sudden move and she would shoot them.