DeadEarth: Mr. 44 Magnum

by Michael Anthony

  The door opened again. This time Lou emerged. Shade hid her hands under her pillow and smiled through her tears. “Hey, Lugia,” she greeted with a shaky voice. Lou smiled broadly.

  Lou was obsessed with Pokémon and loved being called one. Shade was the only one patient enough to learn everything she could about the game and series. When she found out about the Pokémon Lugia, she gave the nickname to her sister.

  As a sixteen year old, Lou stood at an unassuming five-eight. A perfect blend of both Shade and Rikka, she sported long hair and a lighter skin tone. She had the slight angular face and curvaceous build of her oldest sister, but Shade’s freckles and temperament…mostly.

  “Thank you for trying to save Your Not-So-Ordinary Enigmatic Puppy.” She never used his nickname. “Dad says we need them for meat.” The dejection in her voice was evident.

  Shade wanted to tell her sister how much of an idiotic jerk their dad was, but she held her tongue. Rikka had just finished easing Lou out of her isolation. The last thing Shade wanted to do was to say something that got her riled up. “He’s doing what he thinks is right,” she said instead.

  Lou meekly glanced around the room. Nothing had changed since the last time she was in there. The walls were still barren and white. A long, Spartan dresser dominated the longest wall of her bedroom while a futon occupied the smallest. The only thing that added any life to the room was the loaded 9mm that sat on the window sill. And if it wasn’t for the abundance of natural light and fresh air pouring in from the open window, the room would have looked no different from an asylum’s dorm room. Living frugally was just another part of her father’s lesson.

  “I saw the last leaf fall,” Shade said.

  “Do you think it will grow back?”

  Shade turned and looked out the window. There was no green anywhere. She never realized how colorless and bland the world looked without the green of grass or trees. Even the birds and the crickets stopped singing their harmony. She found herself searching the grazing pastures to see if her father put out a bale of hay for the horses. Then she remembered the blood on her hands.

  “No. The world’s dead. I don’t think it’s coming back.” She looked back at Lou. “But don’t worry. We have enough food and medicine in the bunker to last us a while.”

  “Fifty-five years,” Lou clarified. “I’m going to ask dad how long the horse meat will last.” Without another word, she skipped out of the room.

  Shade pulled her hands from under her pillow and rolled out of bed. She followed Lou out, but turned left into the bathroom instead of heading downstairs.

  An endless stream of news poured out of the TV. Shade tried her best to ignore it as she washed the blood from her hands, but when the anchorman announced a personal plea from the President, she paid rapt attention.

  “President Arsenaught is calling for all reserve and able-bodied ex-military personnel to report to the nearest recruitment office to assist our overwhelmed forces in keeping the peace...”

  The television went silent. Except for the running faucet, the entire house was silent. Shade cut off the flow of water and reached for a hand towel as she listened, waiting for the slightest sound. She stepped out of the bathroom and looked over the balcony and into the foyer. Rikka stood in front of the door with the remote in her hand staring up at Shade.

  After a full minute of silence, the storm came. Their father tore through the back door and beelined to the stairs without so much as a glance at his daughters. Lou followed him in but stopped just short of the staircase. He brushed past Shade and walked into his room, closing the door behind him.

  Pissed, Shade cursed her father under her breath then walked to her room and slammed the door. She paced for a moment, searching the cell she called a room for something to throw. There was nothing, so she kicked a hole in the wall instead. Her father always found new and exciting ways to get under her skin.

  Shouts sounded from the other side of the door as Rikka confronted her father.

  “So you’re leaving, just like that.”

  “I have a duty to my country, Rikka—”

  “Yeah? And what about your family? You’re just going to leave us here? The world turns to shit and you just up and leave?”

  “Watch your mouth. And I’m leaving to protect you. If the government fails, everyone’s screwed. The President herself asked for —”

  “Fuck the President,” Rikka screamed. Dad fell silent. Shade listened as his thick boots pounded the ground as he walked past her door.

  “There’s plenty of food, water, and weapons in the bunker. Just stay on the farm until I get back—”

  “And if you don’t come back?”

  “I’ll be back in two months, tops.”

  “But if you don’t come back,” Rikka pressed. “What are we supposed to do?”

  There was a pause. Shade walked over to her door and stared at it, waiting for her father’s response. Her breaths were deep, but soft as she strained her ears to hear his response.

  “If I don’t come back, I taught you everything you need to know to survive. Use it. You’re in charge… until I get back. And I will be back.” He started down the stairs.

  “So that’s it. Just like that, you’re leaving.”

  “Long goodbyes just hurt more. I love you. Lou. Shade, I love you too. Stay safe, and I’ll see you soon.”

  Shade listened as her father walked downstairs, through the living room, and out of the front door. The house was silent again as the weight of what just happen fell over each of them. Shade opened the door. Rikka stood right outside of it staring down the stairs in utter disbelief.

  “Did...did he just leave?” It was a stupid question, but Shade had to ask.

  Rikka looked at her, awe dominating her expression. “Yeah,” she muttered.

  “Just like that? With a two minutes warning and a half-ass goodbye, he just left?”

  Rikka sighed, shedding the perplexed expression. “Fuck. Now I have to kill and gut the rest of the horses.”

  Chapter 3: “Be safe, Rikka.”

  Shade remained shut up in her room while Rikka tended to the horses. She didn’t want to hear, see, or smell what the horse gutting process entailed. Of course, her father made her do it from time to time, though on smaller animals. She could never wipe the look of utter disgust from her face when she cut open their stomachs and watched everything spill out. And the sound it made…

  The first time she left her room was for dinner. Rikka was anal about the family eating at least one meal together, especially after their parents’ divorce. Dinner was the designated ‘family meal’. Though Shade preferred eating alone, she wasn’t big on conflict. She ate with her family simply to humor her sister and keep the words—and occasionally fists—from flying. She never sat at the table though. Their mother always ate standing up, and Shade took up that trait, much to Rikka’s dismay

  “Are the horses...?” Shade cast her eyes downward to her plate of leftover lasagna.

  “Yeah. They’re...” She glanced at Lou. “Just stay out of the barn.”

  Shade nodded and went back to eating.

  Lou set her fork on her plate and crossed her arms in front of her. It was a ritual of sorts for her. Anytime she crossed her arms at the dinner table, a question would follow. And they were never easy questions. The last time she crossed her arms at the table, she all but forced her father to explain what an orgasm was. That was a very awkward meal.

  “What could have made all the plants die at the same time?” she asked, looking from Rikka to Shade expectantly. She would not continue eating until she had a satisfying answer.

  Rikka set her fork down and leaned her chair back on two legs. She thought for a moment before offering a rebuttal. “I think it’d be easier to narrow down what it couldn’t have been, don’t you think?” It never ceased to amaze Shade how kind and gentle Rikka was to Lou, and how much of a bitch she was to her.

  Lou smiled. “Okay. Well, it wasn’t any of us, rig
ht?”

  “Right,” Shade said as she walked over to the table and sat down. She had been wracking her brain for an answer for weeks with no success. She knew the rest of her family had thoughts on the matter too, but no one openly discussed them. It seemed like everyone was silently waiting for a geo-something-ologist to offer up not only an explanation, but a solution as well.

  “Are we ruling out pollution, too? You know, like the holes in the ozone, gamma radiation, and stuff like that,” Rikka asked with a raised brow.

  “I think so,” Shade said. “If it was pollution, I don’t think it would happen so quickly. I mean, wouldn’t there be signs? I don’t see Mother Nature tossing in the towel before even stepping in the ring.”

  Rikka nodded thoughtfully. “So, it’s a unanimous ‘no’ for pollution?” Shade and Lou nodded as well. “What about…” she shrugged, “some kind of weapon someone lost control of?”

  “Like a sci-fi movie,” Shade said with a laugh. Rikka cut her eye at her middle sister until the giggling subsided. Shade locked her eyes on the table and huffed as she shook her head gently. She suddenly lost the desire to want any part of the conversation.

  “Hmm,” Lou grunted, pursing her lips together. She was clearly taking the idea seriously. “Maybe they didn’t lose control of it.”

  Shade and Rikka looked at their youngest sister quizzically.

  “You think someone did this on purpose?” Rikka asked. “What would the endgame be?”

  “It’s like Dad says, scare someone enough and you can get them to do anything you want.” Lou uncrossed her arms and went back to nibbling at her lasagna. It was a clear sign that the conversation was over. She had arrived at her conclusion, however bizarre.

  The older sisters locked eyes, silently questioning each other about the possibility of using fear to achieve world domination. After a full minute, Rikka was the first to break eye contact. She shook her head, seeming to banish the thoughts from her mind, and eased her chair back on four legs. Following her lead, Shade stood and returned to the refrigerator to lean on as she ate.

  An hour later, Shade sat on her futon with her feet propped up on the windowsill, listening to the thick nothingness that crawled in from her open window. Once upon a time, the yard was alive with chirps, hoots, and buzzes of every pitch and variety. Her mother used to tell Shade about how she felt left out. Every night, the bugs and birds were partying and never once did they invite her along. She smiled at the memory, but it quickly faded. There wasn’t a party anymore. Everything was dead or dying. Her mom didn’t answer her calls or return her messages. Her dad left, leaving her to deal with Rikka’s rage on her own. And on top of that, all Shade could think about were the last words she said to her parents, especially her mom.

  Initially, after the divorce, her mom left the ranch and found a nice little apartment ten minutes outside of town. Then, even though their family was broken, it was easy to imagine that nothing had changed. Shade and her sisters still saw both parents around the dinner table every evening. And even though they had a lot to work out, her mom and dad still managed to laugh and joke together—if only for their daughters’ sake.

  But then her mom was offered a ‘life-changing’ job halfway across the country. Rikka urged her to accept it, but Shade and Lou begged for her not to. Their family was already broken, she didn’t want the pieces scattered in the wind—especially since Rikka received and accepted a scholarship to a college two-hundred and twenty-nine miles away. Shade didn’t want her family to completely fall apart, but that’s exactly what happened when their mom accepted the job.

  “Fine. Go,” Shade said the day her mom was set to board the plane. “But don’t expect your family to welcome you back with open arms when it doesn’t work out.”

  That was the last time she’d spoken with her mom. Nine days later, the world started to die. When Shade finally mustered the courage to reach out, it was too late. Her mom’s phone was disconnected and she stopped logging on to her Facebook account. Though Shade still logged in to check from time to time, her last status update always read, I truly miss the loves of my life. Shade. Rikka. Louise. I’m thinking of you always.

  Sighing, Shade turned her attention to the cool northern breeze floating in. She inhaled deeply but stopped mid-breath when she heard the distinct whine of the rusted stable door. She eased her feet off the sill and leaned forward. Rikka? she thought as she searched the darkness. But she hadn’t heard her sister leave the house. Shade stood, scanning the illuminated porch just below her window. The back door was closed, and it didn’t open from the outside. Unless Rikka went out the front door and circled the house, she was still inside.

  Shade tore her attention away from the window when she heard the faint click of her bedroom doorknob turning. Without a moment’s hesitation, she grabbed her 9mm and aimed it at the door as she ducked behind the futon. With eyes already adjusted to the dark of her room, she stared intently at the door as it swung open.

  “Shade. You in here?” Rikka whispered.

  Shade stood. “You heard it too?”

  Rikka nodded. “And Lou’s in her room.”

  The stable door creaked again, and then eased shut with a gentle bang. Someone was trying to be quiet.

  The sisters remained perfectly still, straining their ears for the slightest sound. Two long minutes passed before the silence was broken—this time by the jiggling of the back door just below Shade’s room.

  “Five eight six nine six two zero,” Rikka whispered urgently. “Get to the bunker. I’ll grab Lou and meet you down there. Don’t open the door for anything.”

  Rikka’s gaze hardened as she gave the instruction. The twinkle in her eyes faded much like the glint in Puppy’s eyes when he died. The transformation was near immediate. The Rikka she knew and loved was ripped away, replaced by a warrior that took lives without a second thought.

  The room grew cold as a chill dragged itself up Shade’s spine, as fear and utter admiration mingled in her chest. She tore her eyes away from her sister as she made her way towards the staircase. She wondered if she would ever be able to let go like that—to allow herself to be fueled only by duty and survival.

  She didn’t know. But as long as Rikka was around, she was sure she’d never have to find out.

  Shade darted towards the stairs, conquering them two at a time. She nearly fell as she swung around the banister towards the fake thermostat attached to the wall on the side of the staircase. She flipped up the cover to reveal the keypad, and punched in the code—five eight six nine six two zero. She stepped back as the hydraulic system silently lifted the bottom half of the staircase to reveal another set of stairs that descended into the bunker. Shade hurried inside, tripping the motion sensor that closed the door behind her.

  The lights flickered to life once the door sealed. The bunker was about the size of two average bedrooms. Two army-style bunk beds took over the far right corner while food, water, medicine, munitions, bleach, fuel, electric heaters, and clothing took over the remaining space on the walls. Two SUPRQUIET generators sat on either side of the couch in the ‘living room’, dividing the entire space into three sections. The back end of both generators were encased in metal that channeled the exhaust through the floor and outside.

  Their father recently moved a TV into the shelter and purchased over four hundred DVDs to keep them occupied. Board games, cards, and a PlayStation 4 were stored on the shelves under the television.

  Shade’s heart pounded in her ears as she headed for the weapons cache. She grabbed a M1911A1 pistol equipped with a suppressor and flicked off the lights. Taking a few breaths to get her heart rate under control, she aimed her weapon at the entrance.

  “You better not come in here hot,” she whispered to herself. Images of both her sisters flashed before her mind. Shade instinctively tightened her grip on the pistol, but forced herself to relax moments later. “Be safe, Rikka.”

  Seconds passed like minutes. Even though she was in a sound
proof room, Shade strained her ears in attempts to hear even the slightest of sounds. She was met with silence. A thick, foreboding silence. For a moment, she imagined that was what Death sounded like, but she quickly banished the thought from her mind.

  Light pierced the darkness as the entrance opened. Shade lifted the pistol as she squinted through the white haze. She saw Lou first. Rikka stood directly behind her with a hand firmly placed over her mouth. Lou tried to pull away, but her attempts were futile. Fear instilled itself in her gaze as her eyes locked on the weapon aimed in her direction. It took the middle sister a long moment to realize Rikka threatened her with a pistol of her own.

  The staircase closed behind them. Only when it sealed did Rikka release her little sister. Lou began to cry.

  “You alone down here?” Rikka asked, not lowering her weapon.

  “Just me and the voices in my head.” Shade replied. That was code for all clear. Anything else would have resulted in gunfire.

  The sisters lowered their weapons simultaneously. Rikka closed her eyes and sighed heavily. When she opened them, Shade could see the glint of life in her eyes again. Her sister was back. For now.

  Rikka placed her gun on the generator and kneeled down next to Lou. “There are at least six of them. I couldn’t tell if they had any weapons. If not, they do now.” Rikka wrapped her arms around her sister and whispered apologies in her ear as she kissed her cheek.

  “Three pistols, a rifle, and a box of ammo for each. And that’s if they find all of them. We’ve got more than that under one of the bunk beds.”

  “Even still, we wait until Dad comes back. If he wants us to come out shooting, he’ll give us the word. Until then, we stay put, okay?” Rikka asked.

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” Shade replied.