THE COLLAPSE: Swantown Road

by Frank Kaminski

  The man said in a loud voice, “Good morning. I’m very sorry for hassling you folks today, but we’re going to need fifty percent of your cargo in order to let you pass.”

  “Hell no, absolutely not!” Fish yelled from the top of the truck, his M-4 now pointed at the spokesperson for the highway bandits. The man was obviously their leader, and a very brave one at that.

  The spokesperson continued, “I understand that this is a very difficult situation for you all to swallow, but you are covered from multiple positions. It will be best for everyone if you just comply and be on your way.”

  Stephen mentally debated giving up the supplies and carrying on, but something seemed odd about these bandits. They were all older, organized men. They didn’t seem to be anything at all like the ruffians at the AWOL compound. Stephen wondered if he could negotiate with them instead.

  Stephen asked, “Why fifty percent? That seems like a lot of stuff just to cross a damn bridge. Maybe we can come to another agreement?”

  “Fifty percent is our toll, my friend.” The man replied. Stephen noticed that for some reason, Pharoah wasn’t barking. In fact, the dog didn’t seem agitated at all. Pharoah only barked at threats. The man continued, “All of these men have families camped out down at the park. This is how we keep them fed. I really do apologize, sir, but this is the way it has to be.”

  Stephen thought that it made sense. The campground was just down the trail from the bridge. These fellas were just pipelining roadblock-gathered supplies down to their families. They were probably benevolent folks, and wanted to avoid any armed conflict if they could help it. Times were tough, and Stephen could relate to their struggle, but he couldn’t stomach giving up half his cargo just to get across the damn bridge.

  Stephen said, “How about one full box of MRE’s and two gallons of gasoline. Sound fair enough?”

  The man mentally absorbed Stephen’s proposal, and turned around to his men behind him. Most of them were shaking their heads in disagreement.

  The spokesperson said, “Looks like you’ve got quit a bit in the back of that truck. We’re going to have to decline.” He made a motion with his arm toward the men behind him and continued, “All I have to do is give the word, and they will all fire. I think you should just take the deal and be on your way.”

  Fish yelled down at the spokesperson from the top of the truck, “All I have to do is pull this trigger, and half your men are dead.” He nodded toward Tarra next to him and continued, “She pulls the trigger, and the other half of your men are dead.”

  Stephen listened to Fish, and thought the threat was a good idea. Maybe this man actually cared about his men enough to avoid a battle. Even so, he knew damn well that they had the truck covered extremely well, and the chance of survival was slim for Fish and the Alexanders.

  The man stepped back a little bit after Fish’s threat. He shouted, “Listen to me, we’re all good people here. Nobody has to die today. Let’s come to a better agreement, and we will let you pass.”

  Stephen thought to himself, Who the hell does this guy think he is? Rick Grimes from ‘The Walking Dead’? Because that’s exactly who he sounds like.

  Stephen said, “You do realize that you’re asking too much. What if I get up the road and there’s another roadblock, and they want fifty percent. And then another, and another. How long before I have nothing?”

  Fish yelled down to the spokesperson, “That’s right, no agreement, man. We need this stuff. Get what you need from the next car, maybe they won’t have automatic weapons like we do.”

  Stephen thought that Fish was making an excellent argument on their behalf.

  The man became nervous, and stepped backward closer to his men behind the cars. Stephen didn’t like it. The friendly spokesperson was about to make a decision whether or not to assault the truck. Stephen had run out of time, Fish’s bluff had failed (unless Fish actually wasn’t bluffing). He needed to say something to the man before he ordered his men to shoot. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anybody in the truck had gotten hurt or killed.

  “Okay, you win. Fifty percent.” Stephen reluctantly said through his open window.

  “No!” Fish yelled from topside.

  “It’s okay, Fish. We have to do it. We’ll just have to catch more fish when we get there, that’s all. Okay, brother?”

  “This is fucking bullshit.” Fish said, and flipped the M-4 onto his back with the shoulder strap. Tarra did the same, signaling to the highway bandits that they had chose to submit to their demands. Stephen was sad to give in to the highway bandits’ demands, but it was a necessary evil of the new world they lived in.

  The spokesperson nodded at Stephen in silent agreement that it was okay to go ahead and take a look at what the Alexanders had in the back of their truck. He was about to step forward toward the rear of the truck, when suddenly there was a shout.

  “Wait!” One of the men behind the cars at the roadblock yelled and pointed at Fish, who was standing with arms crossed (very pissed off) in the bed of the truck. “Holy shit, it’s him!”

  Another man shouted, “I thought it was, too! I just wasn’t sure! It’s the Safeway guy!”

  “Oh my god, it is!” A third man yelled.

  “GET SOME!” Another man shouted, imitating Fish on the day of the Safeway takeover.

  “I say let them pass!” The first man said.

  “Yeah, let them pass! We scored a ton of stuff that day!” A bunch of the other men shouted, and put their rifles on their back. They were no longer interested in a gunfight.

  The original spokesperson cordially smiled at Stephen as he passed him and walked back toward the rear of the monster truck and said, “Well, well, well! Looks like we have a celebrity among us.” The man reached up with his palm extended toward the back of the truck where Fish was, and Fish had to climb over some supplies to reach down to shake his hand. The spokesperson said to Stephen, “I wasn’t personally at the Safeway run that day, but I had heard about it. You guys are alright in my book. We lost a good man that day. You two turned the tables and got my men exactly what they needed. Everyone down at the campground is quite familiar with the whole story.” He nodded at Stephen and then at Fish and Tarra in the bed of the truck and added, “Godspeed to you all.”

  Stephen remembered the dead body that was laying in the parking lot when he and Fish had made the Safeway visit, and wondered if that was the ‘good man’ that the spokesperson was referring to.

  The leader of the civilized bandits smiled and then made a motion with his hands above his head to signal an order to his men to push the vehicles aside for them to pass.

  Fish grinned the largest grin he had ever mustered in his entire life as Stephen pressed on the gas and crept slowly onto the bridge at Deception Pass with Fish’s monster truck. All of the men standing by the bridge were cheering, “GET SOME! GET SOME! GET SOME!”

  The End

  (or is it?)

  A quick note on feedback:

  Please, if you have any comments or suggestions regarding this novel, please email them to frank.a.kaminski@gmail.com. I am a brand new author, and any feedback, positive or negative, will be graciously accepted!

  Thank you once again for taking the time to read my book! I hope you enjoyed it!