THE COLLAPSE: Swantown Road

by Frank Kaminski

  No, they weren’t going to shoot them. That would have been too loud. The tall man behind them had pulled out Stephen’s mini-sledge (also known by construction workers as a ‘baby beater’) from behind his back and struck them both very hard in back of their skulls. Each of them slumped to the cold earth and lied absolutely motionless. Fish hoped he had killed them both, but they were incapacitated at least, and that was all they needed for the time being. There was no time to spare.

  Fish tossed the short sledgehammer and bolted around the corner of the Alexander home. He scurried through the darkness alongside the house toward the back yard, quickly and quietly sneaking his way over to the front driver’s side tire of Stephen’s truck. TC and his men were firing toward the house, which provided him excellent cover to not be seen. The flashes from the barrels of their weapons would temporarily blind them in the total darkness.

  Once at the tire, Fish found the two sturdy, battery-operated camping lanterns that he had placed behind the tire before the assault and waited for the signal.

  *****

  After disabling the front-door attackers, Tarra had ran inside the house and flew downstairs to the basement, where Connie was tied to a steel flushwater drain pipe against the wall. Her mouth was taped over as well, but Tarra could tell that she was cursing at her as she cut Connie free and moved her toward the garage. With the duct tape still on Connie’s wrists and mouth, Tarra held her firmly by the hair and waited for the signal.

  *****

  From the darkness inside the garage, Stephen shouted, “Light ‘em up, Fish!” Fish clicked on both of the camp lanterns and tossed them around the front of the truck, one after the other. They rolled down the sloping yard towards TC and the gang, and stopped just short and to the right of the trees that they had taken cover behind. They were, in fact, literally ‘lit up’.

  Fish immediately began to take fire from them, and braced himself squarely behind the truck tire. He heard the bullets impacting Stephen’s truck, and the passenger side tire flattened with a *whoosh*.

  Stephen cringed as he heard the beating his truck was taking, but Fish had successfully lit up the aggressors, which was in the plan. TC and his boys were still firing at Fish, who was safely crouched behind Stephen’s solid F-150. It was time for phase two of the plan!

  “Release the human shield!” Stephen yelled to Tarra. Tarra pushed Connie towards the front of the garage and let her go. She awkwardly hustled toward TC and his boys at the rear of the property. Her mouth was still gagged with the duct tape, and she desperately wanted to yell to her husband to run. “Run, baby! Run away now while you still can!” But she couldn’t, she could only try to reach him as quickly as she could.

  Once Connie was exposed by the light of the lanterns on the ground, TC predictably yelled, “Hold your fire! That’s my wife!” He couldn’t afford to lose his AWOL meal ticket.

  Stephen yelled, “Now!”

  Fish stood up and put his elbows on the hood of Stephen’s truck, steadied his rifle quick, and then simultaneously along with Stephen unloaded automatic hellfire at the invaders. With both of them firing from different angles, there was hardly anywhere for the lit up aggressors to hide. The trees weren’t wide enough to cover both angles of fire. Tarra even fired with the shotgun, even though at that range it would be mostly ineffective. Nobody had cared if they shot Connie or not while she stumbled toward the trees, she was insignificant and irrelevant. Tarra couldn’t remember completely, but later on she had told Fish that she thought she “might have” aimed for Connie as she scampered across the yard towards her heroic hubby.

  TC had been behind both of his men amongst the narrow trees, and watched in horror as they performed the automatic fire death dance and were ripped apart. Pieces of flesh, bone, blood, wood and bark splintered and sprayed all around TC, and he struggled to keep a low profile against his tree with his skinny, weasel-like body long enough for them to stop firing. They’d have to reload at some point. Then he would run.

  Fish and the Alexanders saw Connie go down, along with two of the men in the shadowy light of the camp lanterns that had tried to use the trees for cover. A third man had evacuated at mach speed toward the horse pasture and disappeared into the darkness. Fish hoped to Christ that it wasn’t TC, and that he was one of the two dead men near the trees.

  Stephen was beside himself with adrenaline and euphoria. He cheered and yelled to Fish, “Yeah! See that shit? Haha! We got ‘em!” Tarra whooped too, but Fish didn’t have time to celebrate yet, he needed to see who was dead. He ran down to the edge of the property, and examined the two dead bodies with total disappointment. Neither one of them was TC. Damnit! The man that had disappeared into the darkness was his nemesis with the lousy little mustache. Fish briefly thought about retrieving Pharoah and attempting to track him down, but abandoned the thought.

  Fish picked up the lanterns, flicked one of them off, and then returned to the Alexanders who were still celebrating their victory in the garage. He had stepped around Connie’s lifeless, bullet-ridden body without any empathy whatsoever. She didn’t deserve it. Fish couldn’t believe that she had actually went along with TC’s plan, knowing that two innocent little six-year-old girls would be involved. Good lord, what kind of human being does that?

  Chapter 23 – Leaving Swantown Road

  The assault on the Alexander home inspired everyone to move up the Rudehouse property departure timeline. Stephen told Tarra, “We pack up, now. We’re outta here at first light.”

  Tarra and Fish had wholeheartedly agreed.

  Since Stephen’s truck was damaged during the gun battle, they would need to use Fish’s monster truck to make the journey. All gasoline from the motor pool was siphoned and consolidated to the jacked-up F-150, and the five gallon metal gascan that Stephen had found in Eddie’s garage would be topped off along with the two gallon plastic gas container that Stephen had used for his lawnmover fuel. Seven gallons of extra gasoline, that was it. Stephen hoped that there wouldn’t be any detours along the way, but with the way things were, it was likely, if not totally, unavoidable.

  Of the two men that Fish had bludgeoned in the front yard, one of them was dead and the other was gone before the final showdown had finished. The missing man had made everyone nervous. Did he head back to AWOL to round up some more idiots to get some vengeance? If that was the case, then how much time would they have?

  Tarra asked Stephen, “What are we going to do with all these bodies?”

  “Fish and I will line them up in the driveway, just like we did at Eddie’s. I want you to pack up the Kays as fast as you can. I know it’s dark, but we don’t have a lot of time.”

  After exhaustingly hauling the bodies up the sloping yard to the entrance of the driveway on Swantown, Stephen and Fish continued across the street and gathered up the remainder of the water jugs in Eddie’s laundry room and brought them to Fish’s truck.

  There was a debate on how much stuff they would take with them. The camping items and all the food and water would take up at least half of the bed of the truck. Clothing and comfort items would take up the rest. They also needed to leave space for Fish, who would ride with the supplies in the bed of the truck and provide security. God only knew what surprises they would encounter along the way.

  “We need to take the fishing poles.” Fish stated. And he was right, that was a very good call! Stephen and Fish could easily pull trout and salmon out of the Skagit River to eat. Even easier to catch were the drum and whitefish, which were scavengers and took just about any bait. They weren’t nearly as tasty as trout or salmon, but food is food, damnit! If anything, the less desirable fish could be fire-cooked and fed to Pharoah. Every year, Fish and Stephen would out-fish the hell out of Mac Rudehouse, who was more interested in watching from his lawn chair and catching a good buzz rather than catching fish. He was always able to get Stephen and Fish into a fish-catching competition with each other somehow, and every time they fell for it. It was part of Mac’s charm
.

  Tarra had gathered up a stack of things with ‘sentimental value’, and Stephen had scolded her, saying that they didn’t have the time or the space in the truck for it. She snapped at him, “Just one small bag of stuff, damnit! I’ll hold it on my lap during the drive, if I need to.”

  The Kays had no idea what they should have been doing, and were following their mother around, asking endless questions.

  Stephen just shook his head in defeat, and went back outside to assist Fish with loading the truck. He had put the keys for his own truck and the Prius in his pocket, there was no way he was leaving those in the house for the looters that would inevitably come. Stephen had a box of the MRE’s that Fish had acquired from the base in one arm, and a plastic trash bag filled with random food items in the other, and somehow he had activated the trunk button on the Prius keychain in his pocket. The little car’s trunk popped open just as Stephen walked past it, and it startled him greatly. Pharoah had barked at the sound of the trunk as well, which added to the surprise. Stephen dropped both items he had been carrying and let out a small yelp. For all he knew, it could have been another invader! He was on edge.

  Fish laughed from up high in the bed of his F-150, “Watch out, those trunks are real killers!”

  “Screw you, buddy! I just about shit my pants!” Stephen yelled back, laughing. He picked up the box of MRE’s and the trash bag which were now both wet from the dewey grass. He shook the water off them as best he could, and handed them to Fish in the truck, who was organizing everything neatly. He had kept a small spot open for himself amongst all the items being hastily brought out to him.

  Stephen went to close the Trunk of Terror, and noticed something in the darkness. There were things in the back of the car.

  What?

  Yup…it was four cases of Great Value bottled water! Stephen vaguely remembered Tarra purchasing those before the shit had hit the fan, and he was supposed to have brought them in the house. Good thing he didn’t pay much attention at the time, what a score! Even though the Rudehouses had two hand pumps on their property for well water (which would never run out), the bottles would make excellent portable storage units for the clean, cold, Skagit Valley water.

  *****

  It had taken longer to get everything packed than Stephen had desired, and they needed to get the show on the road. It was the first time Stephen was able to drive Fish’s new truck, and he was a bit excited about it.

  Tarra rode shotgun, with her shotgun. The Kays and Pharoah rode in the back seat of the Super Cab. Fish of course, had his perch topside in the bed of the truck.

  It wasn’t raining on Whidbey Island, thankfully, but even so, Stephen had left the plastic tarps in the bed of the truck in an easily accessible location. Just in case Fish needed to get them out while they drove to protect their precious cargo.

  The early morning sun had not yet brightened the horizon as Stephen put the truck into gear and crawled up the driveway toward Swantown. He wondered if he’d ever see his home again. In fact, all of his passengers were thinking the same thing as Stephen took a left onto Swantown Road.

  “Bye bye, house.” Stephen said, softly and sadly.

  “Bye bye, house!” The Kays cheerfully repeated his words with The Sameness. They didn’t sound as sad, though.

  Stephen had taken a left onto Swantown Road instead of going up Loerland Drive. He could have gotten to Highway 20 a lot faster if he had gone through town, but Stephen still had a bad feeling about the AWOLers coming for round two, and he wanted to avoid any of the roads that led toward the city center at all costs. He would travel the back roads which would add a few miles, but it would be worth it to circumvent any altercation. Besides, Fish’s truck drove like a dream and he didn’t mind the longer trip.

  Upon reaching Ault Field Road, which skirted past the Naval Station and ultimately led to Highway 20, Stephen began to relax. Ault Field Road was far away from the city center.

  “Should be smooth sailing from here.” Stephen said to Tarra.

  “I hope so!” Tarra said. “I can’t wait to get there.”

  “Me too!” The Kays screeched from the back seat. Then one of them yelled out the open sliding glass window, “Are you cold out there, Uncle Fish?”

  “I’m fine, honey!” Fish replied over his shoulder. “I kinda like the cold!” He said, but he had lied to make them feel better.

  Stephen reached Highway 20 and took a left toward Deception Pass without any sign of life up to that point. He had noticed three or four vehicles that had been abandoned (or ambushed) along the way on Ault Field Road, but nothing other than that. Maybe things weren’t as bad as he thought they were.

  Highway 20 was a different story. Empty cars and trucks littered the highway every half or quarter mile. There were wrecks as well, some of them quite dramatic. People must have been driving like idiots since the police had given up.

  Even though sunlight was just beginning to pour over the horizon, a few people were out and about along the road already. Stephen wondered if they were just travelers or scavengers. None of them appeared to be armed, but looks could be deceiving! There was even a bicyclist loaded down with gear, that Stephen had to drive around to get past. He was headed in the same direction as Fish and the Alexanders. Maybe he was headed to camp out in the Washington State Park at Deception Pass? Or had he finally decided to leave the island for good? A bicycle would never run out of gas, but it provided no cover and left the rider greatly exposed to bad weather and human threats.

  While approaching the bridge at Deception Pass, Stephen saw commotion in the distance and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He slowed the truck, and watched. The bridge at Deception Pass was one of only two ways off the island. The other one was by boat. Usually the Washington State Ferries ran thousands of vehicles on and off the island each day, but Stephen was pretty damn sure that the ferries weren’t making their routes anymore. Drivers were forced to take Highway 20 across the bridge to get off the island. The bridge at Deception Pass is over 1400 feet long, and 180 feet high. The rocky cliffs on each side of the bridge had pullouts and parking lots for tourists to take photographs of the scenic, postcard-like Puget Sound. Green pines on both sides of the giant canal and gorgeous blue water made for memorable views and excellent photographs taken from high up on the bridge.

  With the bridge at Deception Pass being the only way off the island by drivers, The Collapse had made the bridge equally as dangerous as it was beautiful.

  As they neared the bridge, Stephen noticed a chaotic mess in the Washington State Parks controlled parking lot before the bridge and along both sides of the road. Vehicles were parked everywhere. Some looked damaged or disabled completely, but most of them appeared to be in good shape. But where were the people that drove them?

  Suddenly, Stephen stopped the truck. Something was happening in the distance at the bridge. Four men quickly pushed two small cars into the road in front of the bridge, forming a roadblock. He also began to notice other men with rifles crouched behind other cars that had been pushed to the side of the road in front of the bridge.

  “Highway bandits!” Stephen yelled to Tarra. “Damnit, Mac Rudehouse was right!”

  Tarra yelled toward the open sliding glass window, “Fish, we got trouble ahead!”

  “I already see it.” Fish answered. He was standing up in the bed of the truck, his elbows and M-4 on the roof of the truck.

  “What should we do?” Stephen asked his wife. Without hesitation, Tarra grabbed Stephen’s M-4 and put her shotgun on the seat next to Stephen. “What are you doing?” Stephen asked as Tarra climbed into the back seat with the Kays and reached through the open sliding glass window to push Fish aside so she could get through.

  “I’m going topside.” Tarra replied, and somehow she was able to squirm past the Kays and the curious dog in the back seat, and squeezed through the small window and plopped outside into the bed of the truck. She recovered quickly and lined up next to Fish with her el
bows and M-4 on the roof of the truck.

  “Tarra, what the heck am I supposed to do now?” Stephen hollered.

  “Just drive, baby. Let’s see what these assholes want.” Tarra yelled back.

  Stephen grimaced, and muttered to himself, “Wherever there are bridges, there shall always be trolls.”

  “What, daddy?” One of the Kays asked.

  “Nothing. I need you two to get down on the floor, now.” He commanded, and removed the .38 special from his shoulder holster as he slowly drove forward.

  *****

  In the early morning light, Fish counted six men that he could see as Stephen approached the roadblock. All of them except one had taken up a position behind the vehicles that were set up as cover along the sides of the road and the bridge. It appeared to be an organized operation, whatever it was that those people were doing.

  As they got closer, Fish noticed that all of the men were armed with hunting rifles, except for one, who had what looked like an M-16. Fish studied the weapon, and determined that it was not an M-16, but rather an AR-15, which was the civilian equivalent of it’s military counterpart. The AR-15 was a semi-automatic weapon. Fish and Tarra had M-4’s, which were both fully automatic. He sized up the men at the roadblock, and wondered if they could spray them all down before they could take their carefully aimed shots with the hunting rifles.

  The lone man that was standing in front of the roadblock held up his hands, indicating to Stephen that he should stop. Stephen looked at the two small cars blocking the road, and thought. I think this truck could smash right through those, if we needed to. But the men would shoot, and I can’t take that risk of any of my family getting hurt or killed.

  The man started to walk toward Stephen, but stopped after he spotted Stephen’s .38 special pointing out the window.