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

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Alea Jacta Est: A Novel of the Fall of America (Future History of America Book 1) Page 36

by Marcus Richardson


  Lentz made the wise move of accepting the Council as Erik had left it, keeping them in power for the time being to make everyone comfortable. When he decided he was fully informed and up to the task of running things, then and only then would he consider changing the organizational setup Erik had struggled to put in place—if necessary. Lentz doubted he would change things though. Erik marveled at the graciousness his successor was spreading. It was like he was a politician. Erik mentally snapped his fingers.

  That’s why this guy’s making me edgy…he reminds me of a sleazy politician. After this meeting, he told himself, Brin and I should go over maybe leaving for Dundee, just in case…hell, it’s only a three hour drive from here. Maybe we could bug out and head for New York even. My parents have plenty of space up by Lake Ticonderoga.

  The meeting settled down and Lentz decided to conclude things early, because they had all had a chaotic night. He resolved to deal with the bikers as soon as the meeting was over.

  Erik was circled by his supporters as the meeting broke up, all offering thanks for his services and apologies for not keeping him in power. Roughly a third of the residents were firmly behind Erik, he quickly found out. Mostly the younger people, the ones who volunteered for guard duty, and the Council.

  He tried to thank them, but couldn’t—he was reeling inside over the sudden changes that had occurred in the last hour. From top dog to just another Joe, Erik was riding a roller coaster of emotions. He had just finished shaking hands with another supporter when he saw the flash of light from the guard position in the three story building near the gate. Quickly he snatched his radio from its place on his belt—something he forgot to turn over to Lentz.

  “What is it, Sue?” he asked. Ted’s wife had decided to pull guard duty rather than sit through another boring meeting. Erik was impressed with her abilities with a gun and her resolve to keep her children safe. Ted pushed closer, noticing the light himself. Those around them fell silent, all trying to hear the small speaker on the radio.

  “I see some lights up at the corner—from the main drag. Can’t tell what’s going on, but it kind looks like fire. Maybe torches? Someone better get up and have a look.”

  “I’m on it,” Ted said. He grabbed a handful of the supporters and went to the building. Erik let Sue know Ted was coming up, then radioed the other three guards, patrolling the walls of the complex. He had them find hiding places and go on alert. They were the only other people besides Ted, Sue and himself at the moment who had been in training on the meager firearm supply they had in the complex. Not surprisingly, the remaining men and women around Erik had all been in the guards as well. They liked the way Erik handled things and decided to stick with him no matter what. Erik realized he had just created his own faction in the new government.

  Erik went to inform Lentz of the situation, who brushed him off politely but with indifference, saying lights didn’t concern him, bikers inside the ‘city-walls’ did. Lentz and some supporters moved away to decide what to do, though to Erik it was clear the Bikers were going to be kicked out. He decided to talk to Hoss first.

  Erik found Hoss in the ground floor apartment where he had been set up in the abandoned building. He was tinkering by candlelight with some component from his motorcycle. There were a few others chatting and tending to wounds.

  “Hey man, they’re gonna come here and kick you out,” Erik said. “I’m not the one in charge anymore.”

  “They put someone else in charge because you let us stay here?” asked one of the female bikers, a tough woman named Donna.

  “Pretty much. That’s how it went…the new guy, he’s a superintendent of some school system out in Illinois.”

  “Jesus, that’s fucked up...I’m sorry man…” muttered Hoss. One of the others growled something about Lentz’s mother.

  “Look they’re not going to do anything other than ask you to leave, but there’s a problem—“

  “I’ll say there is, we’re still bleeding from this morning…can’t we stay the night? At least let us dry our gear…”

  “I don’t think so...” Erik keyed the radio in his hand. “Ted, you read me?”

  A moment, then Ted’s scratchy voice was heard. “Yeah, we’re in position in the guard room. I’m looking at the…whatever it is now.”

  “Any idea?”

  THE STREET TOUGHS and ex-cons were congregated at the corner, looking for a place to crash for the night. They had chased a biker gang out of town that morning and were feeling full of themselves. Fifteen burned homes, a handful of rapes and a broken into liquor store later and the group of about thirty thugs was looking for more trouble. They had left a trail of carnage along the main drag, heading east up from the downtown district. That’s where the really bad guys were, shooting up the place and relishing the fact that cops were on permanent leave.

  One of the younger thugs, through his alcohol and drug induced stupor, thought it’d be funny to make a Molotov cocktail and throw it at the gas station across the street. Hell, no one needed gas anymore—if you wanted a car, you just took it and got another when the gas ran out. Most of the people in Sarasota—the affluent side, at least—had fled town or gone to the ‘safe zones’ after the power went out. The ones who stayed were too old, afraid, or hungry to care if a bunch of hoodlums went joyriding in the caddie.

  He lit the fuse, to the laughter of his cronies and ran across the street. Stumbled actually. Someone shouted something from across the street. The fool with the bomb figured they said pour some gas on it to put it out. Laughing, his mind lost to reality, he pulled the nozzle on the nearest pump and tried to squeeze some gas onto his flaming bottle of vodka.

  The resulting finger of flame that leapt from the bottle to the residue gasoline in the pump, then shot up the hose and down into the tank created a huge explosion in the underground tanks which in turn, enveloped the gas station in less than a heartbeat. The fireball split the night with a heat and intensity that threw most of the witnesses on their backs. In less than a heartbeat the gas station was gone, replaced by a gigantic billowing pillar of fire and smoke. Many of the doomed youth’s comrades were still laughing as they lay on the ground holding their bleeding ears.

  THE EXPLOSION WAS heard through the soundproof walls of the apartment building like a dull thud. Everyone on the pool deck was screaming in confusion. They were only a block away so when the night sky lit up like day, fear boiled over and people panicked. More than one person stood slack jawed, staring at the growing plume of smoke and fire.

  “Jesus Christ!” one of the bikers exclaimed, standing on the porch to the apartment, watching the people on the pool deck. “What the hell was that? Looked like a bomb went off to the north!”

  “Ted, what happened?” Erik said into the radio.

  Some crazy fool just blew up the damn gas station on the corner!” Ted’s shocked voice came back. “We watched him run across the street and then, BOOM!”

  “Can you see anything else?”

  There was a slight pause as Ted scoped in on the surrounding area near the glowing and burning gas station. “I got movement…lots of it…people…there’s about—I can’t say for sure. Looks like a sizeable group of people jumping and moving near the gas station. Pretty cohesive. I’d say they’re a group…gang maybe.” Ted saw a flash, then another and another. “Shit, they’ve got guns…definitely a gang.”

  “Probably the ones who ambushed us yesterday morning…come to finish us off,” said one of the bikers. He had a bloody bandana tied around his forehead.

  “They’re the cocksuckers who killed Sally…” muttered Hoss, his hands gripping the wrench he held like a knife.

  “I can see torches…flashlights,” called out Ted’s voice. “They’re heading this way, I think…yes, definitely moving down the street. They must have heard all that screaming going on by the pool deck.”

  “Dammit! I swear the people in this apartment complex want to be killed!” hissed Erik in frustration. First they figh
t tooth and nail against what I wanted to do, then they throw me out of office and put some teacher in my place, then they want to kick out Hoss and the bikers, who might…the bikers…of course!

  “Whatcha wanna do, boss?” asked Ted. “They’re definitely coming this way. ETA fifteen minutes at this pace. They’re checking things out as they go…”

  Erik stared at the walkie-talkie in his hand, his mind racing. “I’ve got an idea. Hoss, we’re going to guarantee you and your gang will be allowed to stay here.”

  “How’s that?” asked Hoss, disbelieving. “Your people want to kick us out, and if that’s the group that hit us this morning, they want to kill us!”

  Erik ignored him. “How many of you got guns?” asked Erik.

  Hoss laughed. “Hell, by now, we all do. Mostly sawed off shotguns, but a few pistols. Not a lot of ammo though. Just the shit we picked up on the way north from the Keys. Why?”

  “Get you and your bikes out the main gate, no noise or lights—just walk ‘em out, head south to the first main street…” Erik began laying out his plan.

  In the time it took the street thugs to cautiously work their way down the street past the shopping center and all the broken pre-looted stores and discover an apartment complex that looked none the worse for wear, Erik set his plan in motion.

  THE RAG-TAG GANG halted at the north corner of the Colonial Gardens complex wall and discussed how to sack the place. With as nice as it looked, they figured there’d be some good pickin’s inside. Two scouts raced up to the gate, checked it out and ran back, while another one circled the complex looking for easy ways in.

  Their leader, a drug dealer who busted out of the Sheriff’s office when it all hit the fan days ago used his street selling skills to convince the others to take the place from the front. He had organized them the day before when the biker gang roared through town and they had chased them away under his leadership. They trusted him now.

  There was no other way in without ladders. The group milled about a bit before working up the group-courage to head to the main gate and try and pull it down. After all, a gate has to have a few weak points where it’s attached to a wall. They would put all their strength into it and tear the fucker down.

  ERIK RUSHED FROM his building, carrying the supplies he needed and a few extra shotguns from Ted’s stash. Ted followed him, carrying the last of the spare guns. They picked up Erik’s supporters on the way back to the leasing office, where they found Lentz still in discussion over what to do about the bikers and the new threat outside the front gate.

  “Ah Erik, just the person I want to see. I want you to talk to your…biker friends…let them know—“

  “They’re already gone, Josh. I already took care of it.” Ted smiled as a look of someone who’s had the wind taken out of their sails passed over Lentz’s face. One of Lentz’s people got an angry scowl, no doubt for seeing Erik act like he was still the leader.

  “Ah, well, good!” Lentz said, trying to recover. He had to establish dominance. “Well then, we’ve talked to the people at the gate—“

  “You talked to them?” asked Ted, incredulous.

  “Yes, that’s what people do…we talked to them and they’re just a group of refugees from a neighborhood to the east that were burned out of their homes. They only request some food and water and they’ll be on their way.”

  “You’re crazy!” said Ted, to the glares of some of Lentz’s men. The smug grins showed Ted they believed he was crazy.

  Lentz seemed to realize for the first time that Erik, Ted and all the men behind them were armed. “We certainly don’t need all those…guns…” he said the word as if merely mentioning the word would bring sickness. “We’ll just give them some supplies and they’ll be on their way. Violence is not necessary.”

  “Were there any women or children?” asked Erik.

  “What?”

  “Women and children? You don’t think a group of people from a neighborhood would leave their women and children behind when they go looking for food and water would you? Especially if their houses were all burned down?”

  Lentz looked as if he hadn’t seriously given it thought. “I’m sure they’re just in the back where we can’t see them.” His voice wasn’t so sure though. “Perhaps…perhaps you and your…ah, friends could check them out though, first…as a precaution?”

  Erik noticed the sudden pleading looking Lentz’s eyes. The man was looking for an out, so the two of them could work together. He was obviously not a fighter. He as an organizer. An arrogant one at that. Erik knew his plan at organizing obviously hadn’t worked the way he had wanted it to, but he also knew the only fighting he’d done so far had been successful. He nodded agreement and restrained Ted from saying something to upset the truce.

  “I’ll round up the guards and we’ll figure it out. You take…” Erik paused. Not wanting to ruin the chances for everyone, he realized he’d have to work together with the bureaucrat. “I would suggest that you lead the rest of the residents—“

  “I’ll get everyone in a safe place, one of the abandoned buildings. We’ll see what happens from there.”

  “Agreed. Alright, let’s go boys,” Erik said over his shoulder and took the guards with him around the building to scope out the situation. They saw what looked like a mob, not a neighborhood committee, on the other side of the iron gate. Men were shaking the gate, making increasingly violent threats and alternately pleading. It was confusing. In the back and middle of the group a few crude torches were held aloft. In the glow from the light, Erik could spot a few rifle or shotgun barrels, some baseball bats and even a few 2x4s.

  “These assholes mean business…” muttered Ted, crouching behind a bush.

  “All right, Ted, get your best shots, let’s get snipers up in these two buildings,” Erik said, pointing with his right hand to the three story buildings to the left and right of the gate.

  “Roger that, I’ll get a crossfire going. Buell, Dickson, Albertson and Murphy, get up to the top floor in that building, open the windows. When you see me shoot, lay into them. I know you haven’t shot at a person before—but get over it and fast. Those animals at the gate are going to get in here and rape and kill your family if you don’t act.” Ted said harshly. No time for a pep talk or proper training, this was sink or swim time.”

  “But…there’s so many…look at them…”

  “George!” Ted shook the man in front of him. “Snap out of it! Remember your kids!” Ted took another three men and went into the other building. That left Erik with seven others.

  “Well, we’re the infantry, guys. Only three of you have weapons. Here,” he said, handing each of the four unarmed volunteers a different sword from his collection. One he gave an English longsword, two others a pair of ninja swords, the last a replica Viking sword. Erik kept his katana, plus the 9mm that Ted gave to him.

  He looked into the eyes of his troops and had to raise his voice over the growing din from the gang outside of the gate. Everyone was nervous and sweating in the humid darkness. “Take a deep breath. All of you. Relax. You’re going into battle. You might get hurt or…,” he let that sink in. “Deal with it on your own, but deal with it later. Your families, your wives and children your own lives are at stake here. Not to mention the lives of everyone who lives here.” He turned and pointed towards the gate.

  “On the other side of that thin gate are people who are no more than animals. They’re going to kill and do what they want to us if they get in. All that stands between the deaths of your families and freedom is us. It sucks, but nobody ever said life was fair. We are the thin line, people. They cannot be allowed to cross it.”

  Another Molotov cocktail sailed past the corner of the building and landed in the grass, exploding. “Refugees my ass,” he said simply. Something inside him took over, whether it was all his studying war and generals of the past or some primordial instinct to stay alive, he would never be sure, but in that split second, he changed.

&nbs
p; “When they get in, you guys with the guns, you start shooting at anything that moves. Make your shots count. Take aim and squeeze the trigger just like in practice. Right?” he asked. The ones with guns nodded shakily.

  “You men with swords, you’re with me. We’ll be behind these bushes, here, here, and there,” he said, pointing in the glow from the burning grass. “When I yell, step out and start swinging, don’t stop moving and swinging your swords till I say so. Remember what I taught you. Swing, turn and step away. Swing the opposite direction, turn and step away. Never stop moving—that’s your advantage. These swords will do the work for you. Trust me, these fuckers have no idea what they’re about to walk into. Got it?” Two of the men nodded grimly.

  “Jesus there’s a lot of ‘em…” someone muttered in the darkness.

  “That’s what some poor scared farmer said on Bunker Hill too,” quipped Erik, getting a few grins. “Our forefathers made the British pay for taking that hill…we’ll make these bastards sorry they ever laid eyes on our home.”

  Erik got his handful of troops into position. As he peered through the leaves on a small bush next to the leasing office, Erik radioed Ted in the building to his left. “Ted, you in position?”

  “Copy that…windows up, we’re spread out and sighted in. We’re ready.”

  Erik took a deep breath, offered a prayer to God to see this roughly trained militia through the conflict and asked Him to protect Brin. Make my arm strong and my steel sharp. Feeling a sense of calm wash over him, Erik figured his prayer had been answered. He gripped the radio in his sweaty palm and gave the order to attack.

  The first shot was Ted, followed quickly by six more from the second building’s snipers. At the gate, three men dropped to the ground screaming. Those around them were too stunned to know what happened at first. By the time the second volley entered the flesh of the attackers, they knew. They had been ambushed.

 

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