Alea Jacta Est: A Novel of the Fall of America (Future History of America Book 1)

by Marcus Richardson

  Static interrupted the broadcast and no amount of fidgeting with the controls could bring the remote station back into focus. Such was the way of shortwave radio listening sometimes.

  “It’s gotta be a joke…” mumbled Stan Gibbons, the Building Rep from Building 7. His selection was no surprise, the Gibbons’ were the only family in Building 7.

  “The U.N. itself is a joke, but they don’t joke around,” said Ted, the Rep from Building 6. Besides Erik and Brin, there was only one other apartment in the building occupied, and they chose Ted. “This is baaaaaad news man.”

  “All right, nobody panic…this is just a bunch of resolutions from the U.N. They don’t act all that fast—remember when we tried to go into Iraq the second time around? Or Syria? They take forever—“

  “Except when it’s in their own interest to act fast,” warned Ted.

  “Well, regardless, that’s for the President to worry about. We’ve got to worry about our own hides first,” said Erik, waving away the discussion. “Now, let’s get down to business.”

  “My Building wants Stan to turn over his food to the rest of us who don’t have food,” said Henry Grimes, elected from Building 4 in the northwest corner of the complex.

  “That’s fine, but my Building wants us to cooperate,” said the Rep from Building 5, just north of Erik’s building. He was an elderly man, a Korean War Vet who had moved down with his wife to retire in Florida only a few months back. Bernie McDonnel was his name.

  Buildings 4, 5, 6, and 7 were all one-story apartment buildings, while 1, 2, 3, 8 and 9 were three-story structures. Buildings 8 and 9 were still half complete though with open windows and half-painted walls. The pile of construction equipment and supplies behind Building 9 attested to the fact that the workers had left the day after the power went out and never returned.

  “Building 2 wants to see what Erik has to say first,” said Noreen Wilson, the thirty-something professional woman who the previous night at the meeting had realized her husband for a coward. Since coming to her senses, she had sworn to do what it takes to protect her family, even if it meant doing things she normally would have expected her husband to do. The building had unanimously voted her as Rep because of her loud and vociferous support of Erik the previous night after meeting when she went door to door meeting everyone and campaigning for the nomination.

  “Yeah, so do the people from Building 3,” chimed in the younger woman, Janine St. Michael. She was the most popular—because she spent more time sunning herself by the pool than working—person from Building 3. There was a number of fresh-out-of-college age men and women in that Building. Most of the people who had lived there had left to stay with relatives or friends or moved to the Zone of Safety in Bradenton. The ones left were more interested in partying than anything else. Building 3 was quickly being known simply as “The Dorm”.

  “Let’s decide what options we have first, then we’ll vote, how’s that?” asked Ted. Henry folded his arms and looked darkly at Erik.

  The other Reps assented and Erik smiled, happy to be moving forward. “Okay, the way I see it, food and water are our top priorities, followed closely by defense. So, I propose we send out a party to collect what food we can from Stan’s restaurant, then bring it back here to provide something for the people who have nothing. If that’s not enough for a few days, we’ll have to send out search parties to the local stores, convenience marts, anything that might have carried food, and we’ll pick it clean.”

  Bernie cleared his throat and spoke. “Well, my recommendation is, if we’re going to go get supplies from some restaurant, don’t wait. Send people out everywhere right now. If we wait a few days, we may have slim pickin’s. That’s the way it was in the Army in my day. Never knew when we were getting another meal. It’s catch as catch can, I believe.”

  “Uh, that’s still stealing, Erik, no matter how we do it,” said Alfonse. “That ain’t right man, I don’t care if the cops are gone…” he said with a glance at Ted.

  “Okay, then here’s what we’ll do—the search parties will keep meticulous logs of whatever they take and write everything down. They’ll have to leave a note to the store’s owner of what we took and why and that we’ll be back to pay for it. Then, when this is all over, we pay it back,” Erik purposely left out that ‘this’ might never be over and money might be useless. He waited, raised eyebrows. The other Reps thought it over and then agreed. “Anyone have any objection to trying to get as much as we can, as fast as we can?”

  “What about water?” asked Henry, arms still folded and looking for a fight.

  “Can we use the water from the ponds?” asked Alfonse, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the little freshwater pond between where they sat and the apartment office building. A few people were at the pool splashing in the water with some kids. One or two were standing next to the railing in the shade of palm trees, watching the new apartment government at work from a distance.

  Ted shook his head. “Not unless you want to get dysentery or any number of infections from bacteria living in the water. No, I wouldn’t drink that shit unless we had stuff to purify it. Bleach and lots of it, or Iodine. I suppose we could boil it though…that would take a lot of wood for fires.”

  “I have some iodine tablets and a little bleach, but not more than enough for a about ten or twenty gallons of water,” said Erik, lying—he easily had enough for a hundred gallons, but something about Henry didn’t sit well with him. He’d trust the others, but not Henry, nor anyone who would elect him as Building Rep. His presence there at the meeting raised an interesting question—either Henry was outright elected by like-minded people in his building, or he pressured them or threatened them in to electing him. Probably to cause trouble, Erik thought.

  “Me too,” said Ted. “We’ll need a helluva lot more to handle that pond, small as it is.”

  “I have another idea,” said Stan. “We have bottled water at the restaurant—maybe a few hundred gallons or so for cooking and serving to customers. We could take that, too?”

  “It won’t last us very long, but it’s a start,” replied Ted.

  “Rain,” said Alfonse. “We can collect the rain.”

  Erik snapped his fingers. “Of course! It rains every afternoon. If we all put out collection…I don’t know, buckets? Tubs? Whatever, if we put out stuff to collect the rain, we’ll have more than we know what to do with in no time. Great idea, Alfonse.”

  Ted rubbed the stubble on his chin. “As long as we can keep the containers sterile, we would only have to deal with contamination—that we can handle with the bleach we have…probably be able to stockpile that shit from the grocery stores and hardware stores.” He looked up and saw the two women present in the ‘council’. “Oops, sorry ladies…pardon my French.”

  “No problem, Ted…I’m an adult,” said Noreen, making an obvious reference to her other female council member, the sun bunny sitting next to her.

  Janine giggled like a schoolgirl, which, Noreen suspected, wasn’t far from the truth.

  “So, let’s take a vote—all in favor of taking food and water from Stan’s restaurant to bring back for the good of the community, then spreading our search operation to other restaurants and store, and collecting rainwater?” asked Erik. “Being President Pro Tem, I won’t vote.”

  “Good,” said Henry.

  Erik ignored him. “All in favor?” Five hands went up. “Opposed?” Henry’s arm shot up with vigor. “Okay. Good. Now, here’s how we’re going to do it—“

  “Oh, so you’re just going to tell us what to do now?” Asked Henry. “What about voting? I thought you weren’t going to be a dictator.”

  “Henry Grimes, you need to grow up!” chided Noreen Wilson.

  “Remember what I said last night, Henry? I’ll do the leading but only because you folks elected me to do it for you.”

  “I didn’t—“

  “Well the rest of us did, so shut the hell up and deal with it, fer Christ’s sake,�
�� said Ted. “You got any better ideas?”

  Henry’s face darkened at the redress but he held his tongue.

  “Alright then. Here’s what we’re going to do. We need to set up a ranging team to go with Stan to the restaurant. Ted, I’m putting you in charge of that, since you’re the only one besides Bernie here who’s a vet in the whole complex. Come up with a plan to get over there and get the food and what water you can find back here.”

  “You got it. What about troops?”

  “Buildings One and Two have the most people…” mused Erik.

  “We can go back and ask for volunteers. I’m sure we’ll have enough. Hell, I’ll volunteer!” said Alfonse cheerfully. Noreen nodded her head in agreement.

  “Weapons?” asked Ted. “I think we should be armed.”

  “Agreed,” said Erik. “Just check around and see if anyone has any, or at least any experience. Those that volunteer, go, of course, but we need people with gun handling to be in the group if there are any.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Alfonse,” Erik said, changing subjects. “Since it was your idea about the water collection, I’m putting you in charge of figuring out the way to go about it. Don’t forget to keep in mind we can go and get stuff from the local hardware stores if we need to.”

  “I don’t like the idea of taking stuff from stores, but I suppose we don’t have much choice anymore.”

  “That’s right, better we take it and put it good use before some punks get in there and smash it all up or burn it just for the hell of it,” agreed Ted.

  Bernie cleared his throat. The others fell quiet, waiting for the old man to speak his piece. “I ain’t good for much no more…too old, y’see. But back in Korea, I was the go-to man for my company.”

  “Huh?” asked Erik.

  “Then we need you to organize the search parties…” said Ted with a smile. “Glad to have you, Bernie.”

  The old man’s face lit up with pride. The others were still confused. “He’s the guy you go to when you need something. Always finds a way to get things, even in the middle of war. You never ask how he got what you wanted, but given time, he’ll get it, one way or another. Bernie here is going to be very handy to have around,” Ted explained.

  “Great!” said Erik. “Bernie, you can be the Procurement Chairman.”

  “What about when the food runs out again?” squeaked Janine innocently.

  “Yeah…you know, whatever’s left at the restaurant isn’t going to feed us all for more than a few days, Erik,” said Stan. “If there’s anything left.”

  “I know,” Erik replied. “I’m still working on what to do, long term. Only thing I can think of is start growing our own food. I don’t know how though…I never had any land to grow stuff. Dad was raised on a farm, but…”

  “I was born on a farm. Whole family’s farmers. Have been for generations,” said Bernie simply. “Hell, my granpappy lived through the Great Depression. I learned all kinds of things about livin’ on the skinny.”

  “Bernie, you’re amazing!” beamed Erik. “Can you fill me in on what we need to do after the meeting?”

  “My pleasure, sir!” said Bernie, giving a feeble salute with his weakened arm.

  “Bernie, don’t salute me. I’ve never done anything to deserve a salute. You’re a veteran, Bernie, I should be thanking you—“

  “You took command when no one else would, son. I can’t tell you how many times in the war where we lost our CO. If’n no one stepped up to the plate, we all would’a died. No, what you’re doing is a lot harder than what any of us will do. For that, I salute you.”

  Erik took a deep breath. “Well, coming from a veteran like you, I’ll take that as the honor it is.” The old soldier smiled from ear to ear at the compliment.

  “Well, if y’all are done with your little kissy-fest, I’m getting the hell out of here. I have things to do more important than sitting around telling each other how much I love you” said Henry, getting up in disgust.

  “Sit down, Henry,” Erik said forcefully.

  “Go fuck yerself, kid,” he shot back. “You’re gonna get us killed, screwin’ around like this—stealing from stores. Shit—they’re probably gonna think you’re a rioter!” he hissed at Alfonse. “Sendin’ a Goddamn nig—“

  Alfonse had leaped across the council circle to send a strong right uppercut into Henry’s stomach faster than anyone thought possible. The complainer went down sprawling. He rolled over cussing, then got to his feet, fists balled, shoulders hunched, ready for a good roll in the dirt. Alfonse, shocked at himself, started to back up—he had never been in a fight before, but he couldn’t let this swine of a man insult him with that word while they were all trying to do what was right for everyone.

  Erik jumped up, grabbing his katana from the ground next to him. With that same faint metal-on-wood rasp that had frozen Brin’s attacker the day before, the samurai sword came out in one swift, sure movement. Janine shrieked in fear at the sight of the sword glinting in the sunlight as Erik drew it and stepped between Alfonse and Henry.

  Henry froze at the sight of the curved sword pointed at his throat.

  “That’s enough, Henry,” Erik said in a commanding voice. The sword was a not so subtle reinforcement. “You’re causing nothing but trouble. Why do you even want to be a part of this process?”

  “Because I don’t want to see some little shit like you fuck things up for me and the rest of us!” Henry paused to stare at the sword. “You think you’re so bad with that fuckin’ sword, huh?” said Henry, fists still clenched. “Why don’t you stop bein’ such a pussy and fight me like a man?”

  Erik considered it for a second, waved off Ted, who got to his feet and started to take off his pistol belt. He was more than happy to kick Henry’s ass.

  “No, there’s going to be no fighting. Dammit, Henry, we have to work together—“

  “I aint’ workin’ with no fuckin’ kid!”

  “Fine. Leave.”

  “What?” asked Henry, incredulous. “You telling me to leave my home?”

  “No, I’m saying if you don’t want to work with us, then just leave. Look, you’re either with us, or against us. And if you’re against us, we’re not going to concern ourselves with your safety and whether you eat or not, because you’ll only distract us from our own survival. So if you’re against us, get out and go to the shelters or something, but get the hell out of here.”

  Ted looked at the other members of the Council. Alfonse immediately nodded. Noreen looked unsure but gave a half nod-half shrug of assent. Janine looked frightened but had glow about her that said she was more interested in Erik than anything else. Ted filed that observation away as a potential problem. He glanced at Bernie, who sat on the ground with a slight smile, arms folded contentedly across his stomach, watching the situation unfold. He smiled when he noticed Ted watching him. Stan was frowning at Henry.

  “Fuck you, you arrogant little prick!” retorted Henry.

  “Henry, you’re pathetic,” Erik said sadly. Pity seemed to flow outwards from the larger man. Henry noticed this and grew even more angry.

  “You can’t just order me and my kid out of here like some…like a king! I’ll take it to the—“

  Ted stood up next to Erik. “We agree with Erik.” He looked over his shoulder at the others. Alfonse nodded again and joined Ted and Erik. Noreen stood up slower but stood beside the men. She helped old Bernie get to his feet, and the proud vet stood his tallest and patted Erik on the back in support. Janine blushed, realizing she was the last to stand and moved next to Erik, staring at him with an obvious look in her eyes. Stan folded his arms and glared at Henry.

  “You’re all in this together…fuckin’ bastards…all of you! You’ll see! He’ll get you all killed and you’ll deserve it, letting a Goddamn kid take over like this!” Henry shot one more defiant look at Erik and his companions, then turned and stumbled across the parking lot.

  “Well,” said Ted cheerfully, �
��That ought to settle the leadership debate. Now we can get down to business.”

  Erik watched Henry until he disappeared inside his own building. “I hate that it’s come to this.”

  “Huh?” asked Alfonse. “Why’s that? Maybe Henry’ll get the idea that pretty much the whole complex is against him and he’ll just leave.”

  “Or maybe he’ll just cause even more trouble,” mused Erik, a sense of foreboding dropping on the already heavy weight of leadership resting on his shoulders.

  SARASOTA

  Stacking the Deck

  ERIK TOOK THE box full of packages of pasta from a volunteer who lived in Alfonse’s building and placed it in the back of Brin’s company car, a Jeep Liberty. Most of the cargo area was already loaded with all kinds of non-perishable food products—largely pastas and canned goods.

  “This it?” asked Erik.

  “No way, man—there’s a ton of stuff in there. Lot of canned stuff. Stan’s in there saying we should take chairs and things too…”

  Erik had a thought. “Hey, it’s Tom isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “when you go back in, ask Stan if this place had walkie-talkies for the waiters. If so, grab all the ones and their chargers and batteries you can find.”

  “You got it.”

  Erik turned away as the volunteer disappeared back into the darkened restaurant. Most of the stained glass windows had been smashed out by vandals and there was some spray paint defacing the sides of the building, but it had been left pretty much alone. He hoped that the two convicts who had followed Stan home from the restaurant had been the only ones who had taken notice of this place.

  Blocking the only entrance to the parking lot was Ted’s police cruiser. Not that there was a lot of traffic—indeed there had been only three cars that had driven by since the small group of men from Colonial Gardens pulled up in Brin’s Liberty and Ted’s Crown Vic. Abandoned cars were still parked in the congested streets where people had left them last week after the initial panic. Where the people went, no one knew. Erik figured they made their way to the local safe zone or storm shelter.