End Days Super Boxset

by Hayden, Roger

  “Don’t forget to turn at the light,” Julie said, pointing ahead. On the right was True Save, Beech Creek’s version of Walmart, a large twenty-four hour retail store.

  “I think we should just go home. This attack is a very serious thing. People are dead. We should call your mom and check on her,” Paul said.

  “That’s exactly why we need stuff,” Julie said. “There’s nothing to eat at the house. Nothing. Are we going to starve to death now?”

  “We can order pizza,” Paul answered.

  “We’re going to need more than that. I also need to get some school supplies for a project this weekend.”

  “You must have quite an allowance savings built up,” Paul said.

  “Give me a break,” Julie scoffed. “Since when do I have to pay for groceries?”

  They neared the right turn lane at the light. Paul glanced back to his rearview mirror.

  “If you don’t stop at the store, I’m not going to get the supplies I need. Then I’ll get an F, and then you’ll have to explain to my mom how you’re to blame for me getting an F.”

  Without comment, and at the last possible moment, Paul jerked the car to the right. Julie swung to the side of the door.

  “Hey,” she said. “What’s your problem?”

  Paul’s plan worked. The Lincoln hadn’t been able to turn in time and continued down the road.

  “Ha!” Paul cheered. “I lost them.”

  Julie took one look at Paul.

  “You’re weird,” she said.

  Paul turned into the crowded parking lot. Arrows on the pavement indicated the one-way direction through the busiest areas. The only spaces available were at the far end of the lot. As they came to a stop in a line of traffic, Paul glanced at his fuel gauge. It was near empty.

  “Crap,” he said. “Remind me to get gas on the way home.”

  “Okay,” Julie responded as she scanned for somewhere to park.

  Paul arrived to the end of the row, unsure of where to turn.

  “Here’s what I’m going to do. I’ll drop you off at the front and meet you inside,” he said.

  “Alright,” Julie said. “Can I have some money?”

  Paul raised an eyebrow of disapproval.

  “Are you serious?”

  Julie remained straight-faced.

  “Well, yeah. I could be done shopping by the time you find a spot around here,” she said.

  “You can wait until I meet you in the store,” Paul said.

  “Whatever,” Julie said, opening the car door.

  She stepped out and slammed the door shut. Paul looked to his left and saw a few empty spaces three rows farther down. He turned the stereo volume up and listened closely.

  “And now we take you to our Washington correspondent as the President prepares to address the American people. Yes, Sharon, it’s a solemn atmosphere in the press briefing room. Several fellow journalists and I are still recoiling from the tremendous shock of the tragic Wall Street Bombing. We’re told that the President is going to speak any minute now.”

  Paul turned down the third parking aisle past families, baby strollers, and a bagger pushing a long line of grocery carts. He drove to a space down at the end and parked. He sat in the car waiting for the President’s comments. In the meantime, reporters repeated details on the attack and its devastating toll. He searched around the car for his cell phone. His hands moved across the center console and the seats. He found his cell phone on the floor where Julie had been sitting.

  “Call Sam,” Paul said into the phone.

  He turned the phone to speaker and waited as Sam’s number rang. It went to voicemail after a few rings.

  “Hi, this is Samantha, I can’t come to the phone right now, but if you would please leave a message, I will respond as soon as possible. Thank you.”

  Paul held the phone closer to his mouth as an automated voice took over.

  “If you would like to leave a message, press one or wait for the tone.”

  The tone of the beep soon followed.

  “Sam, hi, it’s me, babe. Look, call me as soon as you can. I just want to make sure that you’re alright and that everything is okay. If you haven’t heard the news yet, there was a terrorist attack in New York City, but I want you to know that Julie and I are safe and sound and will be heading home soon…”

  Paul looked across the parking lot and became silent upon seeing the blue Lincoln once again. It was only a few rows down, roaming each aisle like a lumbering shark. Paul nearly forgot that he was in the middle of leaving a message.

  “I’m sorry, just got a little distracted. Call me as soon as you can, love you.”

  He put the phone down as his eyes followed the Lincoln in the rearview mirror. He was certain that it was the two men from before; they were stalking him. His mind raced with options. Should he get out of the car? Could he get out of the car? Should the police be called? Was he prepared to defend himself? It was all too much to consider on a Friday afternoon.

  Julie carried a basket in her arms, trotting down the snack aisle in her soccer cleats. She tossed a box of cookies into her basket, followed by a couple packs of chewing gum. She weaved between women pushing carts and families walking in packs. The store was brightly lit and bustling with business. At the end of every other aisle was a large monitor screen that played product ads all day. However, this time it was different. There was a man on the screen standing at a podium addressing the camera. Julie recognized him as President Howard. He was a middle-aged man with graying hair and a tall, slender build. He appeared confident but visibly shaken.

  Julie breezed past the school supplies aisle in search of something more. She stopped at the makeup aisle, looked around, and then walked down the tile floor towards the cosmetics stocked with all the products that her mother would never let her have. Paul didn’t know any better though. If she didn’t get too greedy, she could get away with sneaking a compact, some lipstick, and maybe even some nail polish into the mix. It was the perfect plan. She grabbed each product, the very ones she had been eyeing the past month, and placed them in the shopping basket.

  Though she enjoyed soccer and was often thought to have the qualities of a tomboy, she yearned for something more. She wanted to look older. She wanted to look like some of the other girls in school. If she was going to make it in what she considered a “weird town,” some things were going to have to change, whether her mom liked it or not. She fled the cosmetic aisle and went to school supplies, tossing a small bottle of glue into the basket. Next up would be the cereal aisle. Her path was blocked by several people watching the overhead monitors where the President was speaking. Julie glanced up to see what all the commotion was about. His voice echoed throughout the otherwise silent store.

  “And I just want to be clear when I say that this attack, though believed by investigators to have been a meticulously planned and executed attack, was indeed an isolated incident. Now that doesn’t mean it wasn’t the work of a terrorist organization. But my administration and the various military, law enforcement, and intelligence agencies have taken all precautions necessary to prevent any further attacks from happening that may be linked to this tragic bombing. And we’re working hard to find the perpetrators and bring them to swift and immediate justice.”

  Paul sat in the car, still wrestling with his options. The President continued to speak over the car radio.

  “I want to say to the families of the victims that the thoughts and prayers of the American people are with you, now and always. I will not rest until we apprehend the subjects of this heinous act and bring them to justice. And I say to the American people that we shall remain strong and resolute in these times. Our union remains strong. Our republic is sound. Together we will remain vigilant against those who wish to harm our financial sector, our citizens, and our way of life. We will bring resolve, justice, peace—”

  The radio went silent. Paul fiddled with the knobs to make sure that it was still on. He flipped through
the stations and discovered nothing but static. A high-pitched hum followed. From one radio station to the next, it was all the same. It was the kind of high-pitched tone they used to play during the old emergency broadcast tests. Paul switched off the radio, shaking his head.

  Brightness glimmered out of the corner of his eye. Paul looked to the side, outside the driver’s side window. There, in the vast distance, was a smoke cloud shaped unlike anything he had ever seen. A mushroom cloud, distinctive and broad, flourished in the sky in an exquisite and surreal motion. The sky surrounding it was a deep orange hue. The cloud expanded from its base then slowly dissipated into the air. A large ominous ring expanded over the cloud, as if rising to the heavens.

  “What the fuck is that?” Paul said slowly in his distracted awe. He grabbed his cell phone instinctively and turned the car ignition off. His cell phone vibrated with a text message

  Unidentified Blast: Take Cover Immediately

  The message confirmed what he was seeing. The mushroom cloud in the distance was as real as the interior floor below his feet. Paul’s mind raced with questions. Could this be it? Could this really be happening in America? What about Samantha? Was he losing his mind? It was time to get Julie. That much Paul knew, though he couldn’t take his eyes off the thunderous and dissipating cloud in the distance. His phone vibrated again with the same message. Then another. He felt sick inside. But there was also Julie. Crowds formed outside the store watching the sky in awe. No matter, he had to get to her. He placed his hand on the door latch, ready to charge the store like a soldier on the front lines of battle, but he took one look at the rearview mirror, and Paul noticed a car blocking him from the rear. The blue Lincoln had found him again.

  Chapter Four

  The Hornet’s Nest

  The store went dark. At first, Julie thought it would pass. The lights flickered, went out, and slowly came back on. Now they were out for good. But the lights weren’t the only thing out. The television monitors had gone blank. The freezers were no longer running. The light music on the overhead intercoms ceased. Julie passed long lines at each register. Perplexed customers and cashiers alike looked around the store in confusion, standing at checkout lines no longer operating under lights no longer working. One woman handed the cashier some money, placed her goods in her cart, and pushed onward. Others weren’t so lucky. Everyone looked at their phones. The emergency alert message had been dispersed, vague as it was.

  “Unidentified blast?” a man asked. “What the hell does that mean?”

  No one seemed to be taking the alert too seriously. For all they could see, the power was out. However, the message did succeed at making them more unruly. People pushed their way to the front of the store with goods they hadn’t paid for yet. A store manager came out to the floor and addressed the confusion. He was bald with a dark ring of hair around his head. His shoes clicked rapidly against the tile floor with each hurried step.

  “Everyone, if I could have your attention please,” he announced as he stopped. His voice wasn’t quite loud enough for the crowd, but he continued. “Due to an unexpected power outage, our system is currently down, so we have no choice but to close our doors. What we need you to do is to exit the store in an orderly manner.”

  Murmurs of disapproval traveled through the crowd. The lack of response from the customers provided an indifferent vibe in the air.

  “Just calm down, please. For those of you who have already paid for your goods, please take them and leave. For those of you who haven’t, we sincerely apologize, but you’ll have to leave the items here and exit the store.”

  The store manager signaled two security guards to him in an apparent show of force. No one listened or moved. They just looked at each other in uncertainty. The manager’s announcement had fallen on deaf ears. People looked at their shopping carts with a sense of entitlement, whether they had actually paid for them or not. Most of them had just gotten out of work, drove through traffic, fought crowds through the store and got what they needed. Now they were being told to leave their goods behind and walk out. For most of them, it was an insane suggestion.

  “What happened to the power?” a man asked from register five.

  “Sir,” the manager said, “I don’t know. Our phone lines are down as well. We cannot conduct business under these circumstances. I’m very sorry for the inconvenience.”

  The security guards paced along the area, waving the people towards the exits. Julie observed each lengthy checkout line. They were discouraging. Talks of another attack filled the air. Everyone had heard about the Wall Street bombing. The latest theory was that New York was under attack again, or some other major city, certainly not Beech Creek, Pennsylvania though. Who would possibly want to attack them?

  More customers filtered from the back of the store to the front. Some of them wandered with no direction. The last to move to the front of the store was a group of twenty-something thuggish-looking slackers. Though they were separated, their placement was strategic. In all, their numbers equaled twenty. The group had planned the ambush for the past week. They were going to position themselves throughout the store on a busy Friday afternoon and strike. They communicated with each other by text message. Once in position, they had planned to wait for the leader of the group to text them. Then they would spring into action. It was a growing trend throughout the country. The purpose of the game was to loot, rampage, rob, and disappear. Nothing of such magnitude had ever happened in Beech Creek, which inspired the gang of rowdy, bored, and unemployed men to mimic the cruel game for their own amusement.

  Julie got a look at one man peering from behind the detergent aisle. He was a skinny unshaven man in his twenties. He wore baggy clothes and a red bandanna around his head, covered with a backwards cap. He quickly slipped behind a display case. She sensed a growing suspicion of their presence. Why were they hiding? Why did they keep looking and signaling at each other? She noticed others of similar age and demeanor creeping about. Everyone’s attention was on the commotion at the front of the store, but Julie’s instincts told her that something wasn’t right with what she was seeing. She clutched her basket of items and looked to the front exit. Would anyone really care if she walked out with everything?

  Now that he was boxed in by Edwin and Greg, Paul hesitated to get out of his car. Nothing close to their type of harassment had ever happened to Paul before, so he wasn’t sure exactly how to react. He watched as other people in the parking lot were transfixed by the mushroom cloud in the sky. Paul felt a low rumble that shook him to the core. His first thought was of the 1950s and the Cold War era. He wondered if perhaps the government was testing a bomb. It wasn’t like they were anywhere close to Nevada or some other historical nuclear test site. Maybe it was an accident. Other people, more proactive, ran to their cars and fled the parking lot. In little time, the lot became congested and chaotic with only two exits. Some found their way out by driving over sidewalks and medians. The parking lot had become a sinking ship and everyone was trying to escape it. Paul, on the other hand, had his mind on other matters.

  Edwin exited the passenger side of the blue Lincoln and approached Paul’s side. Paul’s first emotion was panic and anxiety. Once that subsided--and it had--he was angry. Edwin strolled confidently to Paul’s window. He rotated one finger around in a circular motion, signaling Paul to roll down his window. Paul started the car and moved his window down a crack. Before Edwin could say a word, Paul jumped in.

  “Why in the hell are you following me? Is this some sort of sick joke?”

  Edwin stood still and crossed his arms, not saying a word. Paul continued. “I want you to leave me alone right now. Right this fucking instant. I don’t care what you have to say. I don’t care what you want with Bill. Just leave me alone.”

  Paul felt his anger subsiding. He felt better now, though Edwin wasn’t intimidated. He casually swayed his jacket, displaying a 9mm Beretta attached to his left hip by a side-holster. He spoke calmly and assuredly.
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br />   “I’m not going to bore you with who we are, who we work for, and what we’re looking for. I’m just going to say very simply that I’d have no qualms whatsoever about putting a bullet in your head right now. It wouldn’t bother me in the slightest. So before you start flexing your muscles, you think about that.”

  The sight of the pistol frightened Paul, especially when he thought of Julie. Edwin then provided explicit instructions.

  “Now listen carefully. Turn your car off, get out, and give me the keys. Walk over to our car and get into the front passenger seat. We’re all going to go somewhere and have a little talk. You tell me what I need to know, we’ll have you back to your car before dinner time.”

  “I have a daughter in there—”

  “You want to protect her, then get into the car. It’s that simple.”

  Paul looked around the inside of his car. He looked around the parking lot. He looked everywhere for answers or assistance. For the moment, he had a slight advantage over Edwin within the secure confines of his car. The presence of so many people around in broad daylight gave Paul the assurance of safety. The mushroom cloud was fading behind Edwin as Paul continued.

  “Going with you would be a waste of time for both of us. I can tell you that there is no information I have on Bill other than his phone number and home address. You know, his wife is very sick. They could be at a cancer treatment or something. He could be anywhere.”

  “We’re well aware of his wife’s condition,” Edwin said. “I think if we just sit down and have a talk, something will trigger your memory. A recollection of details you’re not thinking of now. Memory triggers can be very scientific sometimes.”

  Paul grew angered as Edwin persisted.

  “Look. I’m guessing Bill owes you money or something? Okay, well, I’m not Bill. Why don’t you turn around? Just real quick, turn around.”