THE COLLAPSE: Seeking Refuge

by Frank Kaminski

  Fish stepped forward and smirked down at Larry’s face, saying, “You moron, William GAVE ME those beers!”

  Larry was stumped. Was Fish lying about that? No, he couldn’t be, because Claudine and William were both standing right there. Neither of the Probsts had flinched when they heard Larry’s declaration about Fish being intoxicated on duty.

  Fish pretended to start taking his rifle off his shoulder and asked Claudine, “Boss, can I just shoot this turd?”

  “Absolutely not,” Claudine said, holding her hand up. Then she continued with, “It would be too loud.”

  At that comment, Fish, Stephen and Larry all did a double take on Claudine at the same time. Was she joking?

  Nope.

  William suddenly presented Fish with a large Bowie knife. It was a specialized hunting model with a recently sharpened blade. A very beautiful knife, indeed! William smiled as he watched Fish’s eyes light up.

  After studying the wicked blade for a few seconds, Fish raised his eyes from the knife in his hand and trained them on Larry Paulson.

  Larry grimaced as if Claudine and William had just told a ridiculous joke. “No way!” he yelled, putting his hands out in front of him in protest. He continued with, “You’re just kidding, right?”

  “Do it, Fish! Kill his fat ass!” Tarra shouted from behind the barred window.

  Fish looked at Stephen, almost as if he was asking for permission. Stephen was still seeing red from his near-panic attack after witnessing his wife in the PODS container, and was unable to speak. Instead, he just nodded at Fish, essentially giving his best friend the green light to assassinate Larry Paulson. Fish’s grip tightened on the knife as the grin on his face elongated even more.

  Larry had never been more frightened in his entire life. And for good reason! He pleaded with Fish, “No, stop! Please! I’ll drop the charges!”

  Fish just slowly shook his head at Larry, saying nothing, just grinning.

  Larry begged, “I’ll just leave The Park, okay? You’ll never see me again, I’ll leave right now if I have to!”

  Fish shook his head again, and even though Larry had a knife of his own against his hip, he opted for flight instead.

  “HELP…HELP!” Larry howled as he hastily waddled towards the nearest residents, who were several sites away. Claudine and William had purposely kept many, many campsites adjacent and across from theirs vacant. For their own “privacy” reasons, of course.

  Fish launched toward the fleeing potbellied man, and was upon him in little more than a few strides of his long legs. Larry had feebly attempted to unsheathe his own knife as he ran, but he was too clumsy and didn’t have enough time. His pursuer was simply too fast for him.

  Reaching out with his left hand, Fish wrapped his fingers around Larry’s face and pulled his head backwards, exposing the throat. The Bowie knife in his right hand went easily across Larry’s beard-stubbled neck as if it was cutting through a loaf of freshly microwaved bread.

  Fish stepped away from Larry, who went down to his knees with his hands on his throat. There was no way to stop the bleeding, everyone knew it, including Larry, but one couldn’t help themselves from trying. Crimson covered Larry’s hands and shirt as the remaining strength in his body ebbed away, and he fell to the ground. His chubby cadaver convulsed for a moment, then he gurgled blood bubbles out of his mouth one final time before going motionless. Larry Paulson had been vanquished, and would never bother Stephen or his family ever again.

  When the ordeal was over, Claudine emotionlessly said to Fish, “Bury the body in the forest behind our site. After you’re finished, take Trent with you to see Larry’s wife. Tell her that Larry was evicted, and that he is waiting for her on the other side of the main gate. She has one hour to leave.”

  As Claudine was explaining to Fish what to do, William unlocked the jail door. Tarra and Wolf burst out of the box and ran to Stephen and Fish, respectively.

  The Probsts said nothing as they walked to their RV and opened the door. Before disappearing inside, Claudine turned to Stephen and said, “I’m sorry it had to be this way.”

  Stephen just nodded back, saying nothing.

  He couldn’t help but to notice that after William had opened the jail, besides Tarra and Wolf, the box had been empty. What happened to Jimmy Banks?

  *****

  “I think that Claudine was trying to send us some type of message,” Stephen said to Tarra and Fish, who were sitting around the fire later that evening as usual. Except this time, they actually did get one of the bottles of Gentleman Jack from Fish’s truck. Since the Kays were already asleep in the tent, the three adults were passing it around as they conversed.

  Tarra added, “Yeah, the message was loud and clear – ‘she’s in charge around here’. And now, she has dirt on all three of us.”

  Fish spit a sunflower seed husk into the fire and asked, “But…doesn’t that mean we have dirt on her and William, too? I mean, it was William that gave me the knife.”

  “Yes,” Stephen began, “but you were the one that sliced Larry’s throat open with it. Not only that, but I just stood there and watched. I think the problem is that the Probsts have too many people in their back pocket around here.”

  Fish spit another seed and said, “I kinda like working for them, though.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Tarra said sarcastically. She had heard Fish’s stories about William providing him with alcohol throughout the day. The Probsts had Fish wrapped around their cunning little fingers, and he had been oblivious to it. He was a good little soldier for them. Til now, anyway.

  Fish asked as he passed the bottle to Tarra, “So what are we going to do about all this?”

  Stephen replied, “For now, nothing. Just keep on doing what you normally do. Act like the Larry Paulson thing never even happened. I do think, however, that we should move up our departure timeline significantly. Things are just going to get worse around here.”

  Fish said, “I can start loading up on the stuff at the Martinez’ sites, I have unlimited access there.”

  “Good idea,” Stephen started, “but don’t go overboard with it. Victor and Gerty aren’t dumb, if you start to take too much, they’ll begin to question it. I’ll grab a few things from them, too. Also, we are going to need more fuel for the truck. I will speak with Ox privately about that. Maybe I can make some type of deal with him.”

  Tarra suddenly sprayed Jack Daniel’s out of her mouth and into the fire, yelling, “GROSS!”

  “What?” Stephen asked, concerned.

  “There were sunflower seeds on the damn rim!” Tarra complained.

  “Oops, my bad!” Fish laughed as Tarra stood up and blasted his shoulder with her fist multiple times.

  Stephen had been growing a buzz from the several pulls off the bottle of Jack, and howled with laughter as he watched his wife pummel on his best friend.

  Out of nowhere, a woman’s voice boomed from the darkness outside the firelight, “Looks like my kind of party!”

  It was Carrie! Fish evaded the last of Tarra’s blows and went to the screen tent to retrieve a chair for the new arrival. The Kays’ child-sized chairs already at the fire simply wouldn’t be able to accommodate the huge woman.

  Tarra used her shirt to wipe the sunflower residue off the bottle rim and handed it to Carrie as she sat down.

  Carrie asked the group before taking a chug, “We’re not going to talk about Claudine-the-drama-queen all night, are we?”

  “Hell no!” Stephen affirmed. Then he noticed that Carrie looked different. Was she wearing makeup? There was also some product in her short hair that made it spikey and shiny. She looked like a totally different person!

  Fish noticed it as well, and said to her with a chuckle, “Yo, where’s the real Carrie at?”

  Carrie blushed, since both men at the fire had obviously noticed her new appearance. She could tell by the way that they were both staring at her (either that, or they were both drunk already). She felt very good abou
t herself at that particular moment. She hadn’t felt that way in a very long, long time. She made a mental reminder to thank Tarra later for the suggestion and the makeup. Even if Fish still wasn’t interested in her, the two men’s’ reactions were priceless enough.

  Carrie handed the bottle to Fish, who continued to stare at her as he gulped down a mouthful of Jack. He noticed that she was wearing a pair of black spandex yoga pants that accentuated the powerful muscles in her thighs as the firelight danced across her legs. It hadn’t been very warm that evening, and Fish wondered why she would have chosen such odd clothing for the weather.

  The four friends enjoyed the rest of the evening by the fire, drinking Jack and telling stories. It was almost as if The Collapse had never happened, and they were simply two couples having a good time camping together. Two couples? Yes, because as the evening wound down, Fish had consumed enough Jack Daniel’s to volunteer himself as an escort to walk a very delighted Carrie back to her RV.

  Unfortunately for the new lovebirds, however, just as they were about to depart, Pharaoh began barking. At first, Fish thought the barking was a protest to his departure, but it wasn’t. Another earthquake shook the earth. This time, it was a real shaker. It didn’t last very long, and the adults didn’t have a chance to get the Kays out of the tent. Luckily, once again, nothing of size had fallen upon site 199.

  Stephen called everyone back to the fire - which was now nothing more than a few smoldering coals - for a meeting.

  “I wasn’t going to say anything after the last quake, because I thought it might have been an isolated incident,” Stephen began, slurring his words, “but do you remember back in 2015 all that hype about a super quake that was going to tear the entire west coast apart? It was all over the news for quite a while.”

  “No,” Fish answered. Carrie and Tarra were also shaking their heads.

  “Geez,” Stephen said, and then hiccupped. “I guess I’m the only one that watches the damn news around here.”

  Tarra grimaced at her husband and said, “Okay, whatever. You’re the ‘news master’ and we’re all just stupid. Continue, please.”

  “Anyway,” Stephen said, batting his hand at the air toward Tarra, “there were scientists that had determined that a super quake was going to wipe out pretty much everything west of Interstate 5. Of course, nothing had happened and eventually all the hoopla pittered out. Nobody cared anymore. But! I still remember the news, damnit!”

  “Everything west of I-5? That’s crazy!” Tarra exclaimed, shaking her head in disgust.

  Stephen continued, “After these two quakes, that were so close together, I think it’s going to happen. I think there’s maybe one more or two more, and then there should be like…I think we should, I think we need-“

  Tarra cut him off, “Stephen, you’re rambling. What are you trying to say?”

  Stephen straightened up in his chair and announced, “I think we should get the fuck out of here as soon as possible.”

  Fish asked, “Are we going to try to make it to the Rudehouses’ property?”

  “Yup,” Stephen replied. Then he looked at Carrie and said, “You’re more than welcome to join us, if you want.”

  Carrie thought about it for a moment, glanced at Fish, and then replied, “Yeah, sure, I might as well. I have nowhere else to go. Who are the Rudehouses and where are they?”

  Fish laughed, “Oh, you’re in for a real treat. They’re awesome people, especially Mac. They have a summer property way out in the middle of nowhere on the Skagit River.”

  Stephen amplified Fish’s description by saying, “Don’t worry, it’s close enough that we can make it with a few more gallons of fuel, but yet far enough inland to avoid a Tsunami…I think.”

  Chapter 13

  Stephen wasn’t the only one that had watched (and remembered) the news. The morning hours of the next day brought sounds of engines firing up. The people behind those steering wheels weren’t leaving due to their eviction by the Probsts, they were leaving on their own.

  Stephen and Tarra discussed the issue of Carrie’s camp trailer while they waited for Fish to get up and get dressed.

  Tarra argued, “I think we should take it. Fish’s truck already has the proper hitch.”

  “I know,” Stephen began, “but what if we run into some more thugs like we did the first time we tried to get through Burlington? Or, what if there is so much wreckage on the highway that we need to go around it, or even through it?”

  Tarra countered with, “I think that the thugs and thieves are going to have their hands full with the mass exodus of people heading eastbound. And, as far as your wreckage concern, if worse comes to worse we can just unhitch the damn thing and keep moving forward without it.”

  “Either way, we need to get out of here before the panic sets in. I only heard about two or three or vehicles this morning. That’s not too bad…yet. Word seems to spread fast around here, though.”

  Tarra agreed with Stephen and continued gathering up their things. When Fish emerged from his tent with Pharaoh, he complained of a headache. Stephen chuckled and told him that he had an actual nurse to take care of him now.

  “Ha ha, very funny,” Fish replied. He noticed that Tarra was scrambling about, packing or re-packing items into the cardboard boxes that had been in the bed of the truck. Her hurried movements and fierce tenacity to get things done was too much for him to handle so early in the morning. He thought that he would just be in the way if he tried to help her pack.

  Fish declared, “I’m going to see Carrie. I need something for this headache. After that, I’m going to Victor and Gerty’s site to get some stuff for the road.”

  “Sounds good,” Stephen told him as he began to break down the screen tent for packing. Before Fish walked away with his backpack, Stephen warned, “Don’t lollygag, we need to get out of here as soon as possible.”

  “I know,” Fish barked over his shoulder as he hiked away.

  *****

  Fish saw two armed men standing in Victor’s driveway as he approached sites 17 and 18. Fish tried to ignore the two men and walk past, but they stepped in front of him, saying, “Sorry, but this site is closed.”

  “Since when?” Fish asked.

  “Since this morning,” one of the men replied.

  Fish figured that it was about time to use his power and said, “Do you two know who I am? I work directly for Claudine. I have unlimited privileges here.”

  “Not anymore, nobody does,” the other one said. Both men nervously eyed Fish’s M-4 strapped to his shoulder.

  Fish spotted Victor walking by behind the men. He was carrying a box. Fish yelled, “Victor! Hey man! What’s going on? These guys won’t let me in!”

  Victor put down the box and walked over to the three men in the gravel driveway. He seemed sad, or scared. Something was wrong. He wasn’t his usual chipper self.

  Victor said to Fish, “I’m sorry, son. No more stuff for anyone until further notice. Orders from the boss.”

  Fish asked while pointing at himself, “Not even for me?”

  “Nope…well, maybe. Not yet,” Victor said. “Talk to Claudie and Bill, son. They’ll explain everything to you.”

  “Fine,” Fish grumbled and stomped away. He had no intention of walking all the way back to site 199 empty handed, so it was off to see the bosses to get this whole thing straightened out.

  *****

  Stephen got on his bike. He had decided to visit Jason Oxnard’s wife and son, who would be guarding the fuel at their campsite. Ox would probably be on duty up on the bridge, so Stephen thought that he would try to negotiate with the wife first, instead of hiking all the way up to the bridge, and then back down again. The round trip hike would take over 45 minutes. The bike might have sped things up, but some of the hike was over super-rough terrain. Not only that, but there would be no way that he could have pedaled up the hill that led from the north beach to the bridge. Another option would have been to pedal out to the main gate and th
en up the highway, but that might have taken longer, even though it was all paved. Plus, he would have had to bike along Highway 20 for a stretch, and that would be too dangerous on a bicycle. Even with an M-4 rifle in hand, the risk was too great. Too many hungry or desperate people on the roads nowadays.

  Stephen reached Ox’s campsite and noticed that he was there, which was strange. He should have been with his bridge team. Stephen also noticed that Ox and his family appeared to be packing up, just as he and Tarra had also been doing that morning.

  “Mornin’,” Stephen hollered to Ox as he got off his bike. Ox smiled at him, but didn’t stop moving. He continued to put items into a blue ice chest as Stephen approached him. Ox’s son had a shotgun slung to his back, and had brought to weapon to port-arms as Stephen walked up to the campsite.

  “Dad?” the son nervously shouted.

  Ox held his hand up to his boy and said, “He’s alright, he’s one of my friends. Keep packing up, okay?”

  Stephen wasn’t sure how to proceed. Since Ox appeared to be heading out of dodge, maybe he could tempt him with some extra supplies for the road to trade for the gas. Stephen made his proposal by saying, “I can see that you’re busy as hell at the moment, so I will make this quick. I need some fuel, brother. Gasoline…unleaded.”

  “Everyone does,” Ox started, “but I’m not authorized to give any out.”

  “Let me guess. Claudine’s orders?” Stephen sighed, exasperated.

  “Yup, you got it,” Ox replied. Then after a moment he curiously asked, “You heading somewhere, friend?”

  Stephen nodded, “Yes, of course. We’re getting out of here before the super quake hits.”

  “May I ask where you are going?”

  Stephen smiled and crossed his arms. Then he chuckled and said, “I’m not authorized to give out that information.”

  “I get it,” Ox laughed. “Between you and me, brother, I’m looking for a better option than rolling out with the Probsts. Shit’s getting too weird with them, if you know what I mean.”