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

by Marcus Richardson

  Erik’s smile vanished as he turned towards his apartment. He saw a woman watching him from across the lake. It was one of the new widows, still grieving after the Battle. Erik couldn’t quite see her face at that distance but he could tell from her stare that she was not happy. Her husband, one of the men who had volunteered to help defend the complex, had been slain in the fighting. She, like the other women and their families, blamed Erik solely for the deaths of the four guards who fell. They were solidly under Lentz’s influence now.

  Archie Townsend’s wife—widow—and her two girls left yesterday, Erik remembered. Ellen couldn’t cope with losing her husband of ten years, so she packed up her kids and some of their things and drove to the ‘safe zone’ set up by the National Guard at the local high school. Her departure had been the first in nearly a week.

  After the initial exodus of residents following the terrorist attacks and the riots, those who were left behind hunkered down and waited. Erik figured there would be a few more to leave after the Battle and its implications sunk in and he had been right. He figured by the end of the week a few more people, mostly the ones who thought everything would return to normal soon, would leave for the ‘safe zones’.

  He watched the woman out of the corner of his eyes as he made his way around the pond towards his own building. When he came within speaking distance, she turned and ran. That was the downside to the Battle, he had quickly realized. If the people around him didn’t suddenly idolize him for being some kind of hero—thanks to Hoss—they thought of him as some kind of cruel warmonger and looked on him in fear or suspicion. In the worst cases, the widows looked at him with hate filled, bloodshot eyes.

  Erik had made personal visits to the women who had lost husbands during the Battle the day after, but found that Lentz had beat him to the punch. After Lentz’s talks, they had no desire to be with Erik. He wondered if it was because Lentz was purposely trying to sour their sentiments towards him or whether it was just too bitter a topic for them to bring up again so soon. Either way, Erik was alternately praised or shunned by different people in the community.

  He was starting to notice that the people who supported him during his term in office, as he thought of it, were more likely to call him Duke. Those who supported Lentz—the peace-freaks, as Ted called them—generally tolerated Erik, but that was all. More and more people were noticing that the complex was quickly dividing into two factions: those who followed (or worshipped) Erik and those who followed Lenz. The Bikers, solidly in Erik’s camp, made the numbers nearly equal. Among just residents, however, Lentz had an advantage in numbers.

  “Erik!” Alfonse’s shrill voice called out behind him as he reached his building. Erik turned to see Alfonse running along the concrete path from the leasing office and pool deck, a sheet of paper in his hand.

  “What is it?” asked Erik, hand already on his sword.

  “I just got a news flash from Beth Winsmore—she’s got radio duty this afternoon.”

  Erik grinned. “I’m glad to see the system is starting to work. What’s up?” he asked, hand coming off the sword hilt.

  “The President signed an Executive Order this morning granting Homeland Security a blank check. They can do whatever they want to get the country back in order. It’s scary shit man—the British guy on the short-wave…he said they suspended the Constitution!” Alfonse paused for a deep breath, his dark skin shiny with sweat. “It’s martial law, man! Can they do that?”

  “Does it matter? Who’s going to sue?” Erik asked sadly, trying to realize the implications of what Alfonse just reported. “Jesus…martial law. Things are going downhill fast, man.” Erik and Alfonse shared a worried look. “The meeting tonight is going to be pretty interesting, I think,” said Erik. He couldn’t wait to see what kind of a spin Lentz put on this.

  “National Guard coming in!” someone called out from the other side of the leasing office, near the gate. People in hearing distance put down tools and stopped whatever work they were doing to rush to the gate. National Guard trucks carried supplies and more importantly, news. News of the outside world.

  Erik raised his eyebrows at Alfonse and jogged over to the gate. The small crowd parted as he approached and the way was cleared for him to go up the ladder. He went up and found himself on top of the new wooden platform riding the back side of the Colonial Gardens gate. He peered out over the edge, watching the National Guard truck roll to a stop.

  The driver got out and walked over to the gate while a few soldiers climbed down from the back of the canvas topped vehicle. Erik took notice that the soldiers all carried loaded M-4 carbines. They were constantly scanning different directions, looking for immediate threats. It was another early afternoon without power and the sun was beating down again. In the distance, the first clouds of the afternoon thunderstorm were forming. The sweltering heat promised a mighty storm. Other than the incessant buzz of insects in the humid air, the only sound was the crunch of the soldier's boots on the crushed shell driveway.

  “Afternoon,” Erik said nonchalantly.

  “How ya doin’, Captain?” asked Ted, appearing next to Erik on the platform. The National Guard had up to this point merely driven past slowly, blaring out warnings and directions on how to get to the nearest ‘Safe Zone’. No one had seen soldiers up close like that before.

  The Guardsman stopped a few feet away from the gate and shielded his eyes as he looked up at Ted and Erik. “Afternoon, gentlemen.”

  “What can we do for you?” asked Erik. He nodded to one of the soldiers who looked up to the wall as well. All of them were fully loaded out with body armor, helmets, side arms. They looked like they were on patrol in Baghdad, not Sarasota. Erik did not like this.

  “Sir, my name is Captain Jonas Williams—“ he waved his hand back over his shoulder to indicate the truck and the handful of soldiers milling about. “We're driving around to every community in south Sarasota to warn folks about the curfew and Martial Law announcements.”

  “What curfew?” asked someone.

  “Anyone caught out in the streets from dusk till dawn will be arrested. Anyone that resists arrest will be detained with all necessary force. My men are now carrying fully armed and live weapons. The Secretary of the Department of Homeland Security—“

  “Screw that!” someone shouted.

  “Be that as it may,” the soldier said with a grin. He shook his head. “At any rate, I have a duty to perform. I’ll be patrolling this section of Sarasota. If I see anyone out at night, you’re going to be detained and taken to the local Safe Zone for relocation. Anyone seen armed after dark will be shot on sight, no warnings no questions asked,” the Captain finished, pulling out a small flashcard to get the warnings right. He hadn’t given them more than ten times yet that day, but he figured by nightfall, he’d have it all memorized, word for word.

  “Fair enough. We don’t plan on bein’ out after dark anyway,” Ted replied. “Just let any gangsters out there you meet know that we don’t take kindly to people trying to break their way into our apartment complex.” Ted gestured across the road to the make shift cemetery where the enemy casualties from the Battle were buried in shallow graves.

  The Captain turned to look and saw the mounds of still fresh earth for the first time. “So it’s true then…y’all had a firefight. I thought it was just a rumor some bored kid put out over the HAM net. I have to report this, you know…”

  Erik nodded. “We figured as much. Go right on and file your reports, Captain. We won’t hold it against you,” he said grinning.

  “Would you and your men like some refreshments, Captain?” asked Lentz, slightly out of breath from the climb up the ladder to the gate platform. Erik almost flinched—he hadn’t heard the older man climb up.

  “I appreciate the offer, but we’ve got a whole list of neighborhoods we need to visit today. You folks doin’ okay? We got a convoy coming by later on—should have water and food. We’re handing it out to all the people who are choosing to
stay behind rather than move to the ‘Safe Zones’. Can’t say for sure how long that policy will last, though. Word has it that FEMA is going to start confiscating people’s food and supplies in order to keep the shelters stocked up.”

  “That’s bullshit!” Ted said hotly. “They can’t do that--”

  “I don’t know yet, sir,” said the Captain. “I’m just doin’ my job.”

  “So are you going to force us to go to the shelter?” asked Erik.

  “No, sir. We’re not here to take people away. If anyone inside wants to leave, we can provide transportation to the ‘Safe Zone’. But the evacuations are voluntary only.”

  Erik, Ted and Lentz looked at each other and thought over what the Guardsman had said. Ted looked down. “Is it really that bad that you need to protect people getting to shelters?”

  “Not really…I mean, at least not here. I got a buddy up near Tampa—it’s bad up there. They got us bringing in tanks and choppers to keep the highway bandits off people as they get stuck on the interstates. Trust me, you don’t want to go anywhere near I-75. Cars stuck for ten, twenty miles in all directions. It’s crazy.”

  “When did all this happen? The only news we get is pretty much from overseas. The local radio station stopped operating almost a week ago,” said Erik.

  “Yeah, the EAS program is still up and running but if nothing pressing is going on, you won’t hear about it. Tonight the President will be making a nationwide address, you should hear that on most stations,” replied the sweating Guardsman.

  “Hey, you sure you don’t want anything? We got some food and water to spare. Any of your men need any supplies?” asked Ted.

  “No, sir, thanks. I appreciate it. Really. Most of the time we’re either swamped with people panicking and trying to climb on board our trucks without permission, or we’re shot at because people are thinking we’re there to haul them away against their will. I tell you the world is going crazy.”

  After the conversation died down and the Guards loaded up and left in a rumble of dust and diesel exhaust, the three leaders of the complex looked at each other again on the gate platform.

  “Something’s going on,” said Erik. “I got a tingle between my shoulder blades when he mentioned confiscating food and water to keep the shelters open. I think it has something to do with the U.N. peacekeeping force they’re sending to us.”

  “Oh come now, Erik. You’re exaggerating. I see it as nothing more than a good faith attempt to make the concept of the ‘Safe Zones’ more viable to as many people as possible. Sounds good to me. There’s no need for people to hoard stuff when others are starving.”

  “Did you not see everything that we went through a week ago?” asked Ted incredulously. “Hey man, we’re hoarding stuff! If they,” Ted jerked his thumb over the wall towards the receding military caravan, “find out we got all this stuff in here and we’re raiding shops and business in the area to stay alive, they’ll haul us all away!”

  “Oh I rather doubt that, Theodore.”

  “It’s Ted!” the ex-Marine barked. He was about at his wits end with the peace-loving Lentz.

  “No, I don’t think it’s that…” Erik said, attempting to calm down the situation. “I mean, for the past two weeks we’ve been without power. We’ve gotten by. We were attacked and we fought off those street thugs. But by and large, it ain’t that bad out there. At least around us. There’s people still living in their homes, just a block away from here. You can see people milling about in their yards from the observation deck up on Building 4. There’s decent people still around us. But further downtown, all the criminals and the ex-cons who got out are doing the looting and stealing. Look,” Erik said, pointing to the ever present black smear on the northwestern horizon. “That smoke has been there since the beginning and we’re used to it now. Sarasota is still burning, man.”

  “So what’s your point? According to that BBC guy we listen to, the Army’s up there tearing Chicago to pieces trying to crush this race rebellion that’s going on. That sounds suspicious to me,” said Ted.

  “Well, look at it this way. The National Guard has been by here before—they never stopped, just drove past with those damn loudspeakers trying to scare people into going to the shelters—“

  “Safe Zones,” Lentz said.

  “Shelter,” Ted replied.

  “Whatever!” Erik retorted, wiping sweat off his brow. “Now, the day after the President declares martial law and Homeland Security and FEMA get put in charge, the Guards are going around putting the pressure on people to ‘give up and go to the shelter’. Need I remind you that U.N. just voted to send an army over here?”

  “They’re just peacekeepers, Erik, they pose—“

  “They’re a Goddamned invasion force!” barked Ted.

  “Now you don’t know that—“

  “Yes, I do! I was in one of those peacekeeping forces, you stuck up fool. We were assigned to ‘police’ Bosnia. We were in a multilateral force in Iraq. It’s an invasion, plain and simple. Those jokers don’t screw around. They crush the local resistance then police them. Most of the time they can do it without full scale war, but Saddam showed the world that sometimes it’s necessary. Twice. They won’t be afraid to hit us hard.” Ted finished out of breath and slightly flushed. He was getting worked up.

  “I think Ted’s right. I’ve got a sinking suspicion that Homeland Security is going to try and round everyone up—ostensibly for our own good—but realistically, to make defending the nation that much easier. After all, if you’ve got most of the civilians holed up in secured areas, you can worry less about collateral damage when the big guns come out and start kicking ass in downtown Smallville. You know?”

  Lentz looked at the other two men as if they were stark raving mad. “Your comments give me pause, Erik.” He thought for a second. “Although I’m not truly surprised, after your stunt the night of that horrible fight.”

  “Stunt? Sending the bikers out to flank the gang-bangers?” asked Ted. “Are you serious?”

  “I’m seriously thinking you’re clinically paranoid. Both of you!” snapped Lentz. “You watch too many movies, my friend. Our own government isn’t out to get us, there are no aliens and there was no magic bullet!” The elder statesman of the complex turned in a huff and climbed down off the gate platform mumbling to himself.

  “Christ, man, if that guy is really in charge…what the hell are we still doin’ here? I’m surprised he hasn’t turned us in to the Feds or something.”

  “Turned us in on what, and to who?” asked Erik. “I think you’re right though. He’s slowly taking over. I saw one of the wives of one of my students come up to me and ask me to flunk her husband,” Erik had taken to calling his budding swordfighter corps ‘students’. “She said she was more scared of him dying in a fight that wasn’t necessary than of people scaling the walls and attacking. Someone’s out there spreading rumors that we’re training everyone to create some sort of vigilante army and go out and attack the looters downtown…” Erik said, gazing off at the smoke on the horizon. The black smear looked like so much charcoal on a sheet of blue paper. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it was actually growing closer.

  Ted crossed his arms and leaned against the gate. “I know, I heard something like that with one of my guys. It’s starting to annoy me.”

  “It’s starting to alarm me.” Erik sighed. “You notice that Lentz is more vocal about shoving us aside? It’s like now that it’s been a while since the Battle, things are going back to normal…”

  “I knew people had a short memory, but come on…we were fuckin’ attacked!” cursed Ted.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but just keep a good lookout, and check your six, okay? Watch your people close and I’ll watch mine. I have a feeling someone’s trying to pull some strings.”

  “Yeah, roger that, man. I think that someone is Lentz,” Ted said, nodding his head towards the leasing office, where Lentz was talking with two men carrying buildi
ng supplies. “Just like a good politician.” They watched Lentz pat the two men on the back and continue on his way.

  “Let’s not do anything hasty, but I think it’d be a good idea to start getting a plan together for at least our families and maybe a few others to get the hell out of here. Just in case.” Erik said.

  Ted looked at his friend sideways. “You thinkin’ of buggin’ out?”

  “No…not really. But if things get bad, do you want to stay here where Lentz is in charge?” Erik needn’t finish the thought. Ted knew if Lentz had had his way, the Battle would have been a slaughter. He had wanted to let the gate open and talk to those animals…

  “No…”

  “I will make sure Brin is safe, come hell or high water. If that means leaving our home, then so be it. For now though, the safest spot looks like right here.”

  “I read you…” Ted replied. “If anything happened to Susan or the kids…” the Marine’s eyes began to cloud. He wiped the thought from his mind and regained control of himself. “But where would we go?”

  “My family’s got a little vacation spot up in Dundee on the lake. My great-grandfather built it back in the twenties. Solid as hell. Anyway, once he passed away, my family made it a vacation spot. It’s on some land in an orange grove. There’s a few other houses around the lake—more of a big pond really—but it’s way off the beaten path. Bunch of old timers live there. Should be safe enough. Either that or we can head to upstate New York where my parents live. Got a big cabin on Lake Ticonderoga.”

  “Sounds great…when can we leave?”

  Erik laughed. “I’m still just making contingency plans, remember? We’re not going anywhere yet. This place is turning into a fortress…I’m not sure I want to give all that up yet. Besides,” Erik said. “Dundee’s like three hours away by car…that’s following the interstates—without monster gridlock and bandits. It’ll take some serious planning. We’ll have to take back roads…”