Eddie saw the awkward movement in the back of the car and began to stumble his way across the concrete driveway, vengeance was about to be his.
“Aw, shit. I’m fucked.” The defeated thug said aloud, as he managed to flip onto his back in just enough time to see the smiling old man raise the .38 special and fire a single shot into his brain.
*****
Fish had found the Worts’ residence, but after observing it for several minutes determined that it was abandoned. There was no smoke coming from the chimney, none of the windows were covered, or even curtained, and there was no TSOS painted on the house anywhere. The cheap old coot didn’t have a garage, and the entire driveway was empty. He could easily tell where two cars were normally parked, by the stains on the cement driveway. Chicken shit bastard must have jumped ship! Damnit!
Discouraged, Fish drove away and decided to continue with the battery mission. He drove toward the city center, where things were the worst. A person could tell that they were getting closer to the city center, because the garbage would increase in volume, the desperate people increased in number, and there was life. The outskirts of town seemed lifeless to Fish. Nothing but seagulls and crows everywhere, picking at the trash in the streets. Too quiet. Spooky.
Fish was about to turn from one side street to another, when he heard a scream through the passenger side window. A female scream. Fish slowed the car, almost to a stop, and listened. Suddenly, a woman in her fifties (Fish assumed), burst from her front door, as if she was pushed or thrown. A younger man came outside, maybe in his twenties or early thirties, and as the woman tried to stand up, he pushed her down again into the cold, wet, muddy yard. Fish immediately assumed it was a domestic incident, and began debating with himself whether or not to intervene. Was it worth it? Fish absolutely could not stand violence to women, but it was probably just a woman and her son. Might be better if he just stayed out of it. But then the woman begged, “Stop! My babies are in there!” toward the house as the man laughed. He kicked the woman once more back down to the wet ground to keep her from standing up. Fish couldn’t watch any longer, he had had enough. It wasn’t a domestic situation whatsoever. It was a home invasion! There must have been others inside the home, taking her things! And she had babies in there! Fish didn’t consider the fact that she was in her fifties or sixties, a bit old to have young children, but hey, they could have been grandchildren, right?
Fish grabbed his M-4 and erupted from the Prius. “Hey!” He yelled, getting the abusive man’s attention.
“Aw, shit.” The man said, and raised his hands above his head. Fish had the M-4 trained to the man’s chest as he approached the scene. The woman on the ground had curled into a fetal position and was bawling uncontrollably.
“Yo, call your partners out here, now.” Fish told the man.
“Caesar, come on out. We got trouble.” The man called out, calmly. Almost too calmly, as if he had been in this exact same situation before.
“C’mon out Caesar, or I’m shooting your buddy and then I’m coming in there to shoot your ass next.” Fish yelled.
“Alright, alright, I’m coming out, bro.” Caesar said, calmly as well. He exited the house with his hands up, and joined his buddy in the yard.
Caesar asked, “Are you a cop, esse?”
“No. What difference does that make, anyway?” Fish answered.
“You just look like a cop, holmes. That’s all.” Caesar said, and looked at the ground. “I’m just a good Samaritan.” Fish stated with a grin. He was apprehensive about those two turds. Why were they so calm? Was there another member of their little posse hiding out somewhere, waiting to ambush him? Was someone still in the house? Maybe they wanted to kill him and take his guns and car. Fish thought about his next move. What was he supposed to do now? Let them go? They were bad guys. They would probably do the same thing again, to another home down the road, if freed.
The woman recovered and shakily stood up. She immediately walked over and spat in the first nameless man’s face. “There’s only these two of them.” She said to Fish, wiping her mouth. Fish was relieved, but he still had the dilemma of what to do with the two men.
As the older woman turned to walk to Fish, Caesar jumped on the opportunity while her back was turned to him, and in one fluid motion grabbed the woman around her neck with his left arm and produced a blade from behind his back with his right hand. He put the knife next to her face and she quivered helplessly.
“Okay, good Samaritan, put the gun down.” Caesar said.
The other man cheered and said, “Haha, yeah motherfucker that’s right! Put that shit down!”
Fish laughed at both of them and said, “You two really are dumbasses, aren’t you?” Fish smiled, and put two M-4 rounds into the nameless man’s chest. He fell back instantly, dead.
Caesar flinched, and his eyes widened at the sudden, unexpected turn of events. He didn’t think Fish was going to execute his friend so quickly. In fact, he figured that Fish would have already put the gun down and surrendered, in which case, they would have taken the gun and shot him with it, of course. Total fail, now.
Fish studied Caesar as he held the defenseless woman. He envisioned him as a giant, confused frog. Fish pointed the weapon at him and said, “Your turn now. One chance to live. Let her go or die, simple as that.” Fish narrated coolly.
Caesar hesitated for a few moments, but let go of the woman, and she crumpled back down to the wet yard once again. He quickly threw the blade off to the side and put his hands back in the air.
Fish stared into the man’s eyes. The brown skin of his face contrasted heavily with his large, white, bulging frog eyes. Caesar was afraid. For good reason, too, because at that very moment Fish began to imagine the giant scary frog doing the same thing to Tarra or the Kays that he had just done to the woman on the ground. Sorry, Mister Frog, but your chapter on this planet has come to an end. There was only one option.
Fish plugged him twice in the chest, same as his fallen buddy. The woman protested, screaming, “No! Why did you have to shoot him? He was surrendering! What the hell is wrong with you?” She ran to Fish and pounded on his shoulders with both her muddy fists, hard.
“What the hell, lady? I just saved your ass!” Fish said as he braced himself from her blows and tried to step away.
“Just get out of here! Get the hell out of here!” She cried, and pushed him. Fish was taken aback by her lack of gratitude. Maybe she had some psychological problems. Fish remembered that Stephen used to complain about liberals, and how they thought they could save everyone, regardless of how pathetic the people were. Fish wasn’t entirely sure what a liberal actually was, but maybe that lady was a liberal.
“You shot them! You shot them!” The woman kept yelling as she kneeled in the cold dead grass of her yard. Fish turned and walked toward the Prius. She wailed behind him as he walked away.
“What am I supposed to do with the bodies? You bastard! What am I supposed to do with these bodies?” She cried. Fish wanted to reply back to her with something cocky, but said nothing, and continued to his car that was still parked quietly at the curb. He just wanted to get out of there.
Once in the Prius, Fish tried to gather his thoughts for a moment before starting it up to drive away. What was wrong with that woman?
Fish put his hand on the key, but stopped as he suddenly heard the woman call out, “Sir, please don’t leave yet. I’m sorry. Thank you, thank you! Please, come have a drink with me.”
Fish laughed to himself, bipolar much? He watched through the open passenger side window as the woman got back on her feet and smacked the mud off her hands on her already-muddy green slacks. She looked hopeful toward the Prius, awaiting his response.
“A drink actually sounds pretty good right about now.” Fish said to himself, smiling, and exited the vehicle.
The woman introduced herself as Margaret and invited him inside. Fish waited patiently in her living room after she excused herself to change out of her
soiled, wet clothes. She was quite a mess, after all. A few moments later, she returned in different clothes with a bowl of water and a roll of paper towels.
“So, where are your babies?” Fish asked, as Margaret dipped crumpled up paper towels in the water to wipe off the half-dry mud on her hands and elbows.
“There’s one right there.” Margaret joked, and pointed with a wet hand toward a Siamese cat on the loveseat across the room. The kitty had been watching Fish very curiously ever since he walked in. “His name is Linus. The others are probably hiding. I’m pretty sure that they are all bit upset right now, considering.”
“Oh, I get it!” Fish laughed, realizing that there were no actual babies in the house. Well, no babies in the human sense, anyway. The cats were babies to Margaret.
Margaret turned out to be a really nice older gal, in Fish’s opinion, whose husband had passed away a little over two years prior. She lived alone with her cats, and had considered leaving Oak Harbor for her younger sister’s house in Spokane, but didn’t want to displace her cats. Some of them were quite old, and Margaret wasn’t sure how they’d handle the journey across the state.
Fish had introduced himself and told her of what he knew from the Navy base. She was pleasantly surprised to hear that he was in the service. Her husband had retired from the Marine Corps back in ’99.
“I’ve made up my mind to leave this place. The attack today finalized my decision.” She had told Fish. She repeatedly apologized for beating on his shoulder and for pushing him, but he kept waving her off. “I was just out of sorts, ya know, from all that happened.” She explained.
Fish was still waiting for that drink she had promised, but Margaret was too busy chatting. He politely tried to excuse himself, and then she remembered. “Oh, I almost forgot your drink! Please, wait here.”
Ah, finally! Fish grinned. Margaret disappeared and struggled as she returned with a medium-sized cardboard box. It looked heavy, and she put it on the floor with a huff. Bottles clanked. Imprinted on the side of the box was: “Gentleman Jack, Rare Tennessee Whiskey.”
Oh, snap! It was a whole case of Jack Daniels! The good stuff, too! The case was already opened, and Fish licked his lips in anticipation as Margaret pulled a sealed bottle out and handed it to him. He thought for a second that she was only going to offer him a sip of the bottle, but then she said, “This case was my husband’s, he died before he could finish the first bottle. I’m sure he’d want you to have this, for everything you did for me. I can’t even bring myself to touch the stuff after he passed away.”
Fish paused, confused, but took the bottle from her. Wow, she was giving him the whole bottle! Then things got even better. She continued with, “I still have the bottle my husband opened, you can have that one too, if you’d like.” Holy shit, she wasn’t giving him just a bottle, she was giving him the whole case!
Fish almost turned down dead husband’s open bottle, but after a quick reconsideration he decided to take it as well, which completed the case. In the world they were living in, the whiskey would make an outstanding bartering tool. No one would have to know where it came from.
Fish thanked Margaret and departed. He had decided to make the rest of the day a “recon mission” throughout Oak Harbor. He needed to get a feel for the place, new as it was.
Chapter 20 – A Sad Day
In the aftermath of the attack on Eddie Burgess, Tarra sobbed as Eddie proclaimed that he was dying. She begged, “Please, just let us take you over to our place, let us try to patch you up.”
“I don’t wanna get patched up, honey. I’m done. I’m done with this wretched place.” He painfully waved his arm around in disgust at the rest of the neighborhood. Where in the hell was the rest of the neighborhood, anyway? Nobody had come out to help. Nobody had even come outside after the shooting was over with. Were they hiding? Too afraid? Had they all left already? Stephen and Tarra had many unanswered questions.
Tarra continued to plead, “Please, Eddie, let us try to help you.”
“You don’t worry now, ya hear? Everything is gonna be okay. I’m gonna go inside and bleed out in the same bed by dear Marie died in. She’s been hangin’ out in heaven without me for a long time, now. Too long. It’s time for me to go.”
Pharoah whined as Eddie hobbled toward his home. It was the dog’s nature to help, but there was nothing he could do.
Eddie turned around one last time and said to Stephen, “I have few things stocked up, ya know? There in the house. You’re more than welcome to all of it after I’m gone. Just wait until tomorrow, please. I want to die in peace tonight.”
Stephen, who was also holding back quiet tears, replied, “Roger that, sir.” He was at a loss for words, and really didn’t know what else to say other than a military acknowledgement. Tarra sobbed even louder into her hands.
“Oh, and another thing. Take this.” Eddie said as he took a second while struggling to remove his denim jacket. Stephen ran to him and gingerly assisted. Once the bloody jacket was in Stephen’s arms, Eddie asked him to help him take off the shoulder holster that held his trusty .38 special revolver and said, “I want you have this as well. Protect those kiddos over there with it. I’ve got rounds for it in the top dresser drawer next to my bed.” The old leather holster was also marked with Eddie’s blood, but Stephen did not object, and respectfully accepted the weapon from the fading old veteran.
“I’m on my way, fellas!” Eddie said, cheerfully looking skyward at the dark winter clouds above him as he got closer to his door. To whom was he addressing? Nobody knew. He began to laugh as he entered his house, but it ended up as a coughing spell as he disappeared inside and closed the door behind him.
Tarra sobered up quickly as Eddie went into the house, and dried her face with her sleeve. She felt terrible about Eddie wanting to die, but it was his own decision, and she had to respect it. She asked Stephen. “So what are we going to do with these bodies and the car?”
Stephen was still staring at the door to Eddie’s house. He thought about Eddie for a moment, scowled and said, “Let’s line ‘em all up in the driveway.”
“What?” Tarra asked.
“Yeah, that’s what we’ll do.” Stephen replied, nodding his head in agreement with himself. He had a hard look on his face, one that Tarra had never seen before. He continued, “Eddie already has a TSOS on his house. The bodies will be a nice little reminder of what will happen to the next group of idiots that come around here looking for trouble. As for the car, I’m going to wait for Fish to come back. See if he has any ideas. Hell, he might even want to keep it. If anything, we could at least siphon the gas out the tank before we get rid of it.”
“The bodies are going to stink, you do realize that, right?” Tarra asked.
“It’s cold enough outside that they’ll keep for a while. Once the weather warms up and they start to get ripe, the winds here blow mostly north and south. These other homes will catch most of the stench.” Stephen pointed at the houses across Loerland Drive and up the street. “Serves them right for hiding out like a bunch of bitches, anyway.”
Tarra nodded an acknowledgement and then grabbed one of the thug’s feet that hung out of the Monte Carlo. She asked, “C’mon, give me a hand, let’s get this over with.”
*****
Fish returned back to the Alexander stronghold just before it began to get dark. He parked the Prius behind the house and knocked on the door inside the garage for someone to let him in. Stephen was the first one there.
Fish yelled excitedly at Stephen, “What in the blue fuck happened across the street? There’s a bunch of bodies in Eddie’s driveway. Did he cap some fools while I was gone?”
“Kind of, yeah.” Stephen said, solemnly. He explained the details of what had happened earlier that day, and Fish wanted to go over to his house to pay his respects before Eddie passed away. Tarra told him that it wasn’t a good idea, that Eddie wanted to be left alone in peace.
Since Fish was just about a permanent fix
ture at the Alexander home, he knew Eddie just as well as they did. He was sorrowful for the loss across the street. He liked Eddie Burgess, and Eddie had liked him back just as well.
Stephen changed the subject back to the task at hand, “Did you find any batteries?”
“No. But I got a case of Jack!” Fish said, proudly. Stephen frowned at first, then smiled. Tarra hurriedly walked up to the two as they were talking and asked, “Did I just hear you say ‘a case of Jack?’”
“Yup!” Fish answered. In any other circumstance, the Alexanders probably would have accused him of lollygagging around and would have scolded him for coming up with such useless provisions. But after the day they just had, a nice stiff drink sounded beautiful.
Fish went ahead and told his own story of the men at Margaret’s house. Stephen looked disturbed when Fish told the part of the story about him basically executing both of the men in cold blood. He told it with such exuberance, and laughed as if it was just another thing. Why was Fish so happy about that? Tarra, on the other hand, was just the opposite of Stephen, and had smiled and damn near cheered aloud during the story.
At the conclusion of Fish’s story, he apologized for not finding any batteries. Then he added, “But, Safeway’s open.”
“Wait, what?” Stephen said, as both of the Alexanders did a double take on Fish. Was he kidding?
“Yeah, it’s open. Well, not really ‘open, open’. But it’s open.” Fish said, confusing the hell out of both Stephen and Tarra at the same time.
“What do you mean by ‘open’?” Tarra asked, seriously.
“The owner and a bunch of his buddies are allowing people to buy stuff in the store, but they will only accept real gold or silver as payment. No credit or debit, not even paper money.” Fish explained. Stephen instantly thought of all the silver he had purchased years ago before Tarra took over the investment fund. He had pure silver in the house! Rolls and rolls of gorgeous, shiny, silver American Eagles. He could send Fish to buy the batteries with those! And more supplies, if they needed to! But damnit, the two grand in twenties that he had withdrawn was now useless. Oh well, at least he had it just in case things got back to normal.
THE COLLAPSE: Swantown Road Page 18