United States Of Apocalypse

by Mark Tufo

  * * *

  “What the fuck took you so long?!” Juicy shouted up when Mike looked down. “Couple more minutes and I was going to plug this pig’s ass.”

  “You should maybe think your words through before you speak, Juicy,” Mike said as he dropped the rope down. “Hold on, let me tie this end off.” Mike ran over to the nearest shelf and began to tie a granny knot. Sergeant Yonts shook her head and came out of the shadows to tie a sailor’s knot. “All set,” Mike said down the hole.

  “Get your face out of the way. I’m sick of seeing it,” Juicy said.

  That’s the plan, asshat, Mike said to himself.

  Mike helped as Juicy sent two men through. He could only hope that not too many more would come before Juicy let Tynes up the rope. Mike’s relief was nearly palpable when Tynes grunted his way up twenty-fourth in line. Mike pulled his knife from its sheath.

  “When I say ‘get down’, hit the deck.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Now!” Mike cut the rope with one swift slash. There was a grunt and a loud snapping as the man below broke his leg on the hard concrete floor below.

  “Put your weapons down!” Sergeant Yonts ordered. Guardsmen materialized all around the insurgents.

  “It’s a trap!” Chester yelled, firing his rifle.

  Mike pulled Tynes to the floor, or more likely, Tynes allowed himself to fall down as the guard returned fire, immediately dropping the war movie extra wannabe who’d pulled a knife on Mike earlier. Two more men were shot before the rest dropped their guns and held their hands up.

  Mike was close to the hole and could see Juicy staring back up at him.

  “You’re dead!” Juicy told him before what was left of the invading force took off down the tunnel.

  “Fire in the hole!” Sergeant Yonts yelled as she dropped two grenades in quick succession down the drain. Tynes rolled Mike away from the blast zone. The floor rattled as the blasts echoed through the tunnel “Get up, you two.” Mike stared down the barrel of a fully automatic M-16, smoke still drifting from the barrel after the brief firefight.

  Tynes helped Mike up. Colonel Benford walked in casually as if this were something he encountered every day. Blood began to pool and flow toward the drain from the three that had died.

  “Search them and throw them in the stockade.” His hands clasped behind his back, thick smoke rotated around his head from the cigar he was smoking.

  Sergeant Yonts shoved Mike.

  “These two stay,” the colonel told her.

  “What’s going on, Mike?” Tynes’ hands were still in the air. Mike was rubbing his elbow where it had crashed down and then been driven onto the floor by the over-protective cop.

  “Surprise,” Mike said weakly.

  Tynes couldn’t have been more confused if he’d been dropped into a foreign city with nothing but a bag of marshmallows. Then his face dawned in recognition. “The girl, it was the girl, wasn’t it?”

  Mike shrugged.

  The colonel waited until Pembroke’s men were escorted out and to the stockade before turning. “Officer Tynes, I take it?” He extended his hand. Tynes took it, not knowing what else to do. “Colonel Benford.”

  “Excuse me, Colonel, could someone tell me what is going on here?”

  “Your friend here had a moral conflict. Or perhaps it was a hormonal one. I had not thought of that,” he mused. “But, either way, he confessed your entire situation.”

  Tynes had more questions, but he felt they were on shaky ground, and he had no desire to see how rickety his footing actually was.

  “Now what?” Mike asked the colonel dejectedly.

  “Mike?” Tynes looked at him.

  “Your friend gave himself up so that you could go free.”

  “What? I didn’t ask for that.”

  “Nevertheless, that is the deal that’s been struck.”

  “So what happens to Mike?”

  “That’s for me to worry about.”

  “It’s my problem as well, Colonel. He’s sort of become a project of mine, and I hate to leave things half finished.”

  “Half finished?” Mike asked.

  A klaxon blared throughout the compound, halting the rest of the conversation. Mike pointed to his gun.

  “We’re on the same side, at least for a little while,” he told the colonel. “You heard my good friend Juicy. He knows I flipped, and by now, so does Pembroke. We’re in this together now. I know my life is forfeit; let me go out fighting with the guard.”

  The colonel nodded curtly. “You so much as spit in the wrong direction and I’ll have you drawn and quartered.”

  “You still do that shit?”

  “I’ll bring it back just for you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a fort to defend. I’ll send the sergeant back for you two. You do whatever she tells you to do. Billings, get ten men and watch this hole. Kenton, Riggs, you two stay here until reinforcements come then get back to your battle stations.”

  Mike waited until the colonel left then went over to the shelving to grab hold of an MRE carton.

  “Mike, what the hell is going on? And are you really going to do that?” he asked as Mike tore the top off. The two guards gave a quick glance over and seemed to lose interest with the petty theft.

  “I’m starving, and I might be in front of a firing squad by the end of the night. I’m eating something.”

  “Turning yourself in and facing a potential firing squad sounded like a good idea? Mike, come on, man. We can still get out of here.”

  “Not a chance, I sealed my fate the second I walked outside and saw the kids playing.”

  “Kids?”

  “Well, the kids and the women watching them.”

  “Women and kids, my ass. You got a look at that redhead, and before you could reel your tongue back in, your dick got you busted.”

  “Something like that. But she was still surrounded by kids.”

  “That’s why you ratted on the most dangerous thug in New York?”

  “Pembroke is insane. He’d have killed everyone in here, and still might, to get his tin crown. Say what you will, but I saw those families, and the thought of me being on the side that killed them didn’t sit well. I brokered a deal that got you out of this shit storm. End of story.”

  “And where do you think I’m going to go? You think because I didn’t know anything about your boneheaded move, Pembroke isn’t going to put me in an acid wash?”

  “Leave the state. Leave the country if you can. I bought you a chance.”

  “Yeah, with your life.”

  “Don’t give me that crap. If you’d seen what I had, you would have done the same thing. Fuck man, why do they put these things in nuclear-proof packaging?” Mike was struggling to open up a plastic sleeve labeled Tuna Casserole.

  Tynes grabbed it out of his hands and tore it as easily as if it were made from tissue paper.

  “Thanks. I must have got it started.” Mike was hastily squeezing the contents into his mouth like an over-sized tube of toothpaste when Sergeant Yonts came back in.

  “You two know how to shoot?” Sergeant Yonts handed them both M16s and three full magazines.

  Mike nodded dumbly, a noodle falling from his mouth and smacking wetly on the floor.

  “I was a cop,” Tynes answered.

  “My father was a cop,” Yonts answered. “He used to bring me to the range all the time with some of his police buddies. A good number of them couldn’t hit the paper from fifteen yards.”

  “I can shoot.”

  “And you?”

  “I’m Mike.”

  “What’s with your friend? Is he ‘special needs?’”

  “The jury’s still out on that, but he can shoot.”

  “Let’s go then.” They were not quite running, but the pace was brisk.

  “You’re not in the Guard are you?” She didn’t wait for Mike to respond before asking the next question. “How do you know the colonel?”

  �
�I’m his illegitimate son,” Mike said, removing his eyes from the soldier’s backside. “And this is my cousin on my brother’s side.”

  “Uh huh. I want you up on the roof of the barracks. This overlooks the least likely avenue of approach. It should be far enough from the main action to keep you two out of trouble. Corporal Hernandez is up there. He’s in charge. Private Delano is a medic. If either of you break a nail or something, talk to him.”

  “And where are you going?” Mike asked.

  “Where I’m needed.”

  Mike almost said she was needed with him until Tynes, sensing Mike’s response, elbowed him.

  “Fuck, man,” Mike said, rubbing his ribcage. “Will you try and remember you’re like seven times the size of us puny humans before you start smacking me around?”

  “Quit your bitching; we’re alone. Have you maybe been thinking of an exit strategy? I’m not going to go walk off into the sunset while they put you in front of a wall.”

  “I think that door has been closed.” The roar of engines could be heard over the barking of orders being delivered to various points along the Guard line. “Holy shit.” Mike was looking down the street at a long line of trucks and cars, and he thought he caught a glimpse of a SWAT tactical vehicle or two.

  “Looks like your sergeant miscalculated this particular approach.”

  “You think she’s mine?”

  Tynes looked at Mike queerly. “You have a warped sense of priorities, my friend. There’s a good chance Pembroke’s men will kill us, or if we win, the colonel kills you, and yet you’re still thinking about that woman?”

  “Seems to me I have all my priorities in order, and you just called me friend, by the way.”

  “Figure of speech. Don’t get your hopes up.”

  “It’s just nice to know you care.”

  “We’re going to need more ammunition.”

  Ten guardsmen joined them on the roof. Mike walked over and grabbed an ammo can without saying a word.

  “I’ll say one thing, man; you have balls of steel.”

  “What are they going to do? Kill me? Seems like they’d have to get in line.” Mike put the box down between them.

  Tynes shook his head. Vehicles kept coming, the lead ones, which were heavy dump trucks, stopping within fifty yards of the entire structure on all sides.

  “This is well choreographed.” Tynes looked around.

  “Got to be a thousand or more cars.” Mike did not like the looks of this. “That’s Pembroke’s limo.” A car had gone around one of the trucks and was approaching slowly. A white flag was tied to the antenna. “I could just nail Pembroke and this would all be over.”

  “He’s coming under a white flag.”

  “Cancer comes in a white-wrapped cigarette. Wouldn’t it just be better to stomp it under your heel?”

  “It’s strange to me when you actually make sense. You set a bad precedent firing on a truce though, or firing at all for that matter.”

  “Don’t care. My life hangs in the balance and maybe the lives of everyone in this compound.”

  “Including the sergeant.”

  “Mostly the sergeant.”

  “Nice to know where I stand.”

  “Hey man, in the top one hundred people in my life, you almost crack the list.” Mike smiled.

  “Something’s happening.” They both watched as the sunroof opened.

  “It’s Murkediem,” Mike said resignedly, looking through the iron sights.

  “National Guard Squadron Fifty-Four!” Murkediem shouted through a bullhorn.

  “You think Pembroke’s in that car?” Mike asked.

  “You know the man better than anybody here. What do you think?”

  “I think I’d like to pepper that limo with as many rounds as I can and hope for the best before they get out of range. But kings don’t generally come out to the front. I’m thinking he’s holed up in one of those skyscrapers overlooking the entire thing. Shooting Murke wouldn’t exactly ruin my day either, though.”

  “Hear him out at least.” Mike did a double take when he realized it was the sergeant.

  “National Guard Squadron Fifty-Four,” he repeated. “I have been sent here as an ambassador for his Lordship David Pembroke.”

  “What an arrogant bastard,” Tynes said.

  “I offer you one chance, and one chance only, to prevent any bloodshed on either side and the annihilation of your facility.”

  Jeers and boos arose from the guards’ defensive emplacements.

  “Quiet!” boomed over the speaker system throughout the compound. The colonel was apparently listening to the potential usurpers demands. “What are your terms?” the colonel asked.

  “First, his Lordship has requested that you hand over Michael Talbot and Officer Lawrence Tynes.”

  Sergeant Yonts looked over to the pair. “That’s you two, I assume?”

  “Depends,” Mike answered.

  “On?” she asked.

  “On whether or not the colonel capitulates to their demands.”

  “He won’t.”

  “Then I’m Mike and this big guy here is Lawrence.” Mike extended his hand. The sergeant did not take it.

  “How many times have we been through this, Mike? My mother called me Lawrence. Everyone else got punched in the face until they figured it out.”

  “Did any of them live?”

  “Apparently you did, but not without concussive effects.”

  “I’m trying to listen,” the sergeant shushed.

  “I will think on this,” the colonel responded. “What next?”

  “Once we have those two in our care—”

  “Care my ass, more like a body bag,” Mike replied.

  “Shut up,” Tynes and the sergeant hissed in unison.

  “You, and everyone in there, will come out without their weapons.”

  “And what will happen to us?”

  “Happen? Nothing. You will be free to go wherever you please.”

  “What assurances do I have of my people’s safety?”

  “Why, Lord Pembroke’s word, of course,” he said, as if to question that were asinine.

  “Murkediem is a psychopath. I watched him stick a knife in a man’s eyeball because of a bet. They’re as close to barbarians as can be without carrying a card that says they’re members of the New York Barbarians Club.”

  “Do you ever not talk?” Yonts asked, genuinely curious.

  “He’ll drone for hours,” Tynes informed her.

  “I should have picked a quieter spot to fight this war,” the sergeant sighed.

  “And if these demands are not met?” the colonel asked.

  “There will be no quarter. Not for the women, the children, and certainly not the soldiers.” The jeering had started up again. More than one rifle could be heard ratcheting a round into the chamber.

  “I would like to confer with my officers.”

  “You have fifteen minutes.”

  “That’s not enough time!” The Colonel barked back.

  The limo turned into a bank parking lot and headed back toward the front lines and through.

  “You heard the man’s demands,” the Colonel’s voice came through. “I know I am a colonel, and the leader of you band of misfits, but times have changed. Assuming they are sincere in their offering of amnesty, I want you all to have that option, especially those of you with family. If there are any among you that wish to leave, you have my blessing. No one will think less of you.”

  Fellow soldier looked to fellow soldier to see which among them would do so.

  “I’m probably going to stick around,” Mike said to anyone that was listening.

  “Probably the smartest thing you’ve ever done,” Tynes said.

  Though most stayed, there were those that wanted nothing to do with an armed conflict. Some had joined the Guard in times of peace, merely for the benefits, out of boredom, or from lack of drive to do anything else. A few had families and wanted to keep them saf
e. In all, sixty-seven men, women, and children headed to the gate with nothing more than the clothes on their backs and a few MREs.

  Mike leaned over the edge of the building to shout. “Stop! You can’t go—he’ll kill you!”

  “Fuck you” echoed up from below, punctuated with a middle finger.

  “I know the man; he won’t let you live!”

  Some hesitated, but were urged on by the others. Men watched with fresh anxiety as their fellow brothers and sisters in arms walked out.

  “Whoa man, where you going?” Tynes had wrapped an arm around Mike’s waist as he leaned even further, as if being closer would somehow elicit a different response.

  “They’re going to die.” There was a wild look in Mike’s eyes.

  “You don’t know that. He offered them sanctuary.” The sergeant responded evenly, though her heart was racing with concern for those that were departing.

  The world went frighteningly eerie and quiet as the group left the compound and began to walk down the street. A few of the refugees looked back to where they had come from every few steps or so. But most kept a watchful stare ahead for where the potential dangers lay. Everyone stopped suddenly, alerted when a truck started up, drove forward a few feet, then turned sideways, nearly blocking the entire width of the narrow avenue and stopping the exodus from the camp in its tracks.

  “What the hell?” Tynes asked.

  “There’re ports on the side of that truck bed.”

  “What?” Sergeant Yonts asked, turning to look at Mike.

  “There are cut outs, like cannon bays on old pirate ships,” Mike said.

  The driver opened his door. He had a large smile plastered across his face. He waved the people to come forward, then he stepped down off the truck and walked around the side and behind. Most took that as a good sign, but others felt progressively more reluctant and began to lag behind, causing uncertainty to spread throughout the group. Mike’s heart began to hammer in his chest.

  “What’s going on?” Sergeant Yonts asked when a man and a woman carrying a baby broke from the group and fled back toward the armory.