End Days Super Boxset

by Hayden, Roger

  In a misguided attempt at being proactive, Paul shut the car windows.

  “Hey,” Julie said, moving her elbow from out of the way.

  “Just keep your window up and stay in the car,” Paul said, tossing the phone back to her. “It’s not safe out there.”

  The helicopters hovered overhead. The never-ending alert sirens wailed endlessly. Everything was noise. Car horns, sirens, helicopters, there was no escape. He saw movement from behind them. Fire trucks acted as battering rams, pushing traffic out of the way and clearing a path for the police vehicles that followed. Several cars veered into the grass to get out of the way. The fire truck sirens were at their maximum level, startling anyone in their path. Paul covered his ears. He couldn’t concentrate. He pushed his hands tightly over his ears, minimizing the headache-inducing cluster of chaos outside.

  “Do you hear that?” Julie said. Her words were barely audible.

  He slowly removed his hands from his ear.

  “What?” he asked.

  “The police are saying something,” Julie said.

  Paul cracked his window an inch and listened. A county police car passed them on the far side of the road. His words were orderly and instructive, coming through an intercom PA system on his vehicle.

  “Do not attempt to return to your houses. This town is undergoing an immediate evacuation. All residents are strongly advised to leave Beech Creek immediately.”

  “What are they talking about?” Julie asked.

  “They’re evacuating the town,” Paul said.

  What had earlier felt like a figment of his imagination in the hypnotizing mushroom cloud soon turned into something very real and concerning. He had never been told to “evacuate” a town before, even when he lived in Florida during hurricane season. He struggled to make sense of what they were saying.

  “All residents are advised to evacuate the city and travel south to the nearest government facility or enclosed structure.”

  The voice on the police intercom faded the further the vehicle got from them. Soon it was gone. The fire trucks and police cars were far up the road, leaving Paul and Julie to ponder their next move.

  “We have to listen to them, Julie.”

  “Where are we supposed to go?” she asked.

  “We’ll take the nearest exit out of town.”

  “You said that we were going home. Aren’t we safe enough there?”

  “I don’t think we should take any chances.”

  “We need to get clothes. Food. All those things. Where are we supposed to go?” Julie protested.

  “Somewhere away from the radiation,” Paul said.

  “What radiation?” Julie asked.

  “We just have to take precautions,” Paul said.

  Julie sat up on her seat and looked behind them. A line of traffic trailed each lane. All four lanes were full and at a near stop. The road going into town was packed with cars trying to leave. It was a situation beyond any control. They moved a few more feet and Julie saw a large semi-trailer truck lying on its side in a ditch.

  “We’re never going to get out of here,” she said with a deep sigh.

  “I’ll find a way,” Paul said. “Check the GPS on my phone.”

  Julie ran her fingers across the touch screen, activating the GPS. The phone didn’t respond no matter how many times she tried.

  “I’m not getting anything,” Julie said.

  Paul grabbed the phone from her. Julie frowned but said nothing. He looked at the screen. A message box appeared saying that the internal server had failed. It was a common message he had got whenever Internet signals weren’t in range. This time, however, it seemed permanent. The GPS didn’t work; he couldn’t make calls or go on the Internet. The only source of communication was text messaging, and even that was only intermittent.

  “Open the glove compartment,” Paul said.

  Julie leaned forward and turned the knob on the glove compartment. An owner’s manual and some maps fell out.

  “Grab those maps, please.” Paul said.

  Julie felt around the floor and picked up two maps. There was a map of Pennsylvania and one for Beech Creek.

  “Get the one for Beech Creek.” Paul said. “We’re going to find a way around this mess.”

  “You want me to read a map?” Julie asked, still stunned at the thought.

  She couldn’t understand how Paul still didn’t know his way around when they had lived in the same town for two years. Though she knew little herself, aside from her daily bus route, the fact that Paul was relying on her limited map reading abilities was irritating at the least. As a result, she couldn’t resist downplaying her abilities and making the task seem harder than it was.

  “We’re going to have to work together on this,” Paul said. “I can’t take my eyes off the road and read a map at the same time. We need back roads. We need shortcuts. I need you to tell me where to go.”

  “I don’t even remember the last time I looked at a map,” Julie said.

  “It was when we went camping, remember? That was only a year ago.”

  Julie thought of the camping trip. It was one of Paul’s most obvious attempts to bring them together as a family. He tried to teach her land navigation. She remembered, but didn’t want to admit it.

  “Not really,” she said.

  “Come on, Julie, I need you to focus here. I know you know how to read a map.”

  Julie groaned.

  “I’ll try, but don’t count on it,” she said.

  “Just do your best,” Paul said.

  She swung around to address him.

  “How do you not know…” then she paused.

  “Know what?” Paul asked.

  “Nothing,” Julie said as she unfolded the map.

  Paul persisted no more. She wanted to ask him how he didn’t know the town like the back of his hand. How he could possibly ask her to read a map for him. She wanted to know if--as a team--they were doomed from the start, but instead, she said nothing. Traffic started moving again at a slow and methodical pace, only a few miles from the True Save. Every lane suffered the slinky effects of anxious drivers speeding up then slamming on their brakes when traffic stopped. They were almost past the flipped semi-trailer. Julie couldn’t take her eyes off of it. It was a red eighteen-wheeler and its box trailer indicated frozen meats. Though the truck had been abandoned, the cargo was a precious commodity in the wait, to which no one gave any mind. Police helicopters continued to hover above.

  Everything was effectively directed back on track by county police wearing white hospital masks over their faces.

  “We’re looking for the nearest route off the main road. The quickest route to Maker’s Street,” Paul said.

  Julie looked up from the map, surprised. Maker’s street was their road.

  “We’re going to the house?” she asked.

  “Very briefly, but yes, we’ll grab some stuff then find the best way out of town.”

  Julie’s excitement showed and Paul took notice.

  “See, I know how to listen every now and then. You made a good point about getting supplies.”

  As a result, Julie felt a little better about them working together. She looked at the map and tried to make sense of its layout.

  “Did you find us on the map yet?” Paul asked.

  “Um. Okay. I.”

  “Just remember what we went over. Contour lines, the legend, magnetic north, true north. Any of this ringing a bell?”

  “Kind of. I’m trying to remember,” Julie said. She looked up and noticed a red and white water tower in the forest miles away. Her finger trailed down the map to the icon of a water tower. She then moved her finger to a nearby road, the main road they were on, Route 150. “There we are,” she said with a satisfied smile.

  Greg smoked nervously at the wheel with the windows rolled up. They were finally moving, but there were also several police cars everywhere. The exit out of town was in range two miles up the road. Greg had receiv
ed the same radiation alerts on his phone as Paul. If they had to evacuate the town, then that’s what he was going to do. He’d deal with Edwin later. At least they were moving now, so it seemed. He looked over to Edwin, whose face was hidden underneath his hat. The traffic strolled along at five miles an hour, towards the main exit out of town. Greg couldn’t wait to get out of Beech Creek for good. If he could just see his kids again, he’d never spend another day working for Mr. Bennett. He looked to a flashing traffic sign. Its news was less than encouraging.

  Heavy Congestion: Expect Major Delays

  With the exit out of town in sight, Greg was enraged when traffic went from a crawl to a halt. Again, all four lanes were gridlocked. A fleet of helicopters stormed overhead. Their presence caused increased panic and paranoia within Greg. He looked at Edwin in amazement that anyone could sleep through all the noise. The cause of congestion was due to the arrival of several Homeland Security vans parked miles ahead, cordoning off the area. Their actions appeared hastily planned. Greg watched as specialists donning biohazard suits--white synthetic garb, boots, and protective gas masks--exited their vans while holding detection equipment. Their appearance was startling to any casual observer. They operated fast, instructing local law enforcement--themselves unprotected with the exception of white breathing masks on their face--to place road blocks in certain areas, including the exit out of town. Federal and county officials alike worked together to devise an alternate route for the exhausted drivers that awaited their guidance. The traffic sign suddenly changed.

  Main Route Closed Due to Radiological Contamination: Take alternate detour to evacuation shelter

  Greg rubbed his eyes and read the sign again. He turned the dial switch of the radio but heard nothing but static. “Eddie,” he said. “Eddie, wake up.”

  Edwin moved his head slightly, but the hat remained over his face. “What?” he murmured.

  “You should really see this,” Greg said.

  Edwin didn’t respond. Greg looked behind him and saw nothing but more traffic. There was no turning back. Some people were out of their cars, disregarding the radiation alerts. The path ahead was the only thing slightly moving. For Greg, their car was beginning to feel like a tomb. He studied the people standing outside their cars and noticed that they were okay. He was no expert on radiation, but he felt that to remain trapped in the Lincoln spelled certain doom.

  Greg swung open the driver’s side door and stepped out. The sirens were much louder outside the car. Despite all the commotion and route diversion, they hadn’t moved much, if at all. Greg peered into the car. Edwin was still resting. Greg grabbed his phone and cigarettes and carefully shut the door, leaving the car running. By car or by foot, Greg planned to get somewhere. He walked away from the Lincoln towards the woods, hopeful that it would lead him out of the town.

  Chapter Seven

  Escape

  “We’re not moving,” Paul said. “Something has happened.”

  Julie examined the map the best she could, looking for any route they could try. Several cars on the road attempted to drive off road and onto the mushy grass.

  “I’m showing a back road on the map here in about a mile,” Julie said.

  “A mile? Are you sure?” Paul asked.

  “I think. I mean. It’s starting to come back to me,” Julie.

  Paul took the map from Julie.

  “Here, let me see it.”

  He was careful how he addressed Julie’s abilities in a way that would not discourage her.

  “We’re going to find a way out.”

  “The back road?” Julie asked.

  “That would be a start.”

  He gently pressed the gas pedal. The car moved a few feet and stopped. Such was the routine. A beeping sound emerged from inside the car. It was enough to startle Julie.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  Paul stared down at the dashboard and was greeted by a flashing yellow light next to the fuel gauge.

  “It’s the fuel,” Paul said. “We’re getting low.”

  Julie felt a rush of panic. It was one thing to be stuck in traffic, but at least they had a car. What would they do without one? She leaned over to get a closer reading of the gauge.

  “Don’t worry,” Paul said. “We should have enough to get us out of here.”

  She worried anyway, nearly biting her fingers to the bone.

  “Julie, stop that,” Paul demanded.

  She pulled her fingers away from her teeth, like a reflex, but knew she would be back to biting them in no time.

  Edwin jerked his head up at the sound of a car horn from behind. Traffic had started moving again and the parked Lincoln was holding things up. Edwin removed the hat from his head and looked over to the empty driver’s seat.

  “Greg?” he asked. “Greg, where the hell did you go?”

  He took his sunglasses off and looked in the backseat. No sign of Greg. He opened his side door and stepped out. Lanes of cars slowly inched their way forward in front of him. Edwin looked behind him, then all around. Greg was nowhere in sight.

  “Greg, you dumb bastard. Get your ass back in the car,” he called out.

  He looked to the nearby woods, believing that Greg was “taking a piss” or something. He still didn’t see him, as if he’d disappeared. The car behind Edwin's Lincoln sounded their horn, startling him. He felt a repeat of the entire episode earlier where he shot the man in the parking lot.

  “Damn,” Edwin said. “Two in one day?”

  The man berated Edwin from the confines of his shiny Mercedes. A businessman of sorts, he had slicked-back hair and wore a dress shirt and suspenders. In one hand, he held his cell phone; the other was on the wheel. Though Edwin couldn’t hear a word the man was saying, he grabbed his hat and sunglasses from inside the car and strolled over to the Mercedes. The closer Edwin got, the better he could hear the man.

  “What are you walking over here for? Just move your car, moron! Are you deaf?”

  Edwin got closer, worrying the man. His anger had vanished with Edwin’s approach. The Mercedes man attempted to look for ways he could get around Edwin but found no such luck. No other car would let him in. In an act of frustration, he laid on the car horn, hoping to scare Edwin away. From outside, Edwin’s Beretta came into view, once again, as he opened his jacket and revealed his left hip. Mercedes man removed his hand from the horn immediately.

  “Oh?” Edwin asked. “Where’s that spunk? Already done?”

  He slinked to the driver’s side, causing the Mercedes man to quickly activate his automatic locks and windows. He was sweating and nearly hyperventilating. Edwin tapped on the glass with his pistol.

  “You all out of steam now?” he asked.

  Mercedes man nervously moved his head around in all directions. Sweat continued to pour from his head down to his business shirt. Edwin pulled a pocketknife from his jacket and exposed the blade.

  “Please don’t hurt me,” the man said.

  Edwin paced around his car and rammed the knife blade into each tire. A hiss of air followed from the punctured holes. When he finished with the final tire, Edwin tucked the knife back into his jacket and walked back to his car. Mercedes man was frozen with fear. He said nothing. Edwin strolled back to the Lincoln and climbed back into the driver’s seat. There was still no sign of Greg. He slammed onto the gas pedal and screeched ahead, leaving the terrified man in the dust.

  “Greg, oh Greg. Where art thou, Greg?” Edwin asked. “Very foolish of you, now you’re a dead man.”

  Edwin wasn’t the most trusting of individuals. He assumed Greg got cold feet and abandoned him. Though anything could explain his absence, this time Edwin was on the money.

  Having traveled a mile up the road at a snail’s pace, there was no back road in sight for Paul and Julie. Paul estimated that they had enough gas to travel at least a couple more miles. Perhaps they undershot the location of the back road. There was railing on the right, preventing anyone from driving off-roa
d. Behind the railing was thick forest, with no conceivable entry or exit point for a vehicle.

  “Are we going to make it?” Julie asked. “We should,” Paul said.

  Traffic stopped again. Paul slammed his fists onto the steering wheel. His patience had come to an end, but he tried to control his road rage tendencies with Julie in the car. He looked ahead and saw no end in sight. The idea of leaving the car and traveling on foot seemed tempting but farfetched. They inched forward slightly every couple of minutes. They rounded a curve in the road, and with that, a possible window into what lay ahead. Paul stared at the fuel gauge. It was hard to keep his eyes off it. He looked for an indication of any movement in the needle. It didn’t look like it was any closer to the E mark than before, he just wasn’t sure.

  Julie rose up from her seat, trying to see where the congestion ended. She could see the main exit out of town a few miles ahead. The exit was blocked, and several men were diverting traffic away from the interstate exit. Cars rippled like waves on and off the road. Julie searched left and right for the back road listed on their map.

  “We should turn around,” she said.

  Paul glanced in his rearview mirror and saw nothing but other cars. “I’m pretty sure we’re stuck,” he said.

  “I don’t see any back road. And it looks like the exit out of town is blocked.”

  “What?” Paul asked in a loud voice that shook Julie. He hunched over the wheel to get a better look. She was right. The blocking of the exit had tripled road congestion. Why would they call for evacuation and then subsequently block the exit? It made no sense to Paul.

  “The sign says that they want everyone to seek shelter,” Julie said, reading the flashing traffic update board up the road.

  Paul was impressed with her ability to read what looked like a blur to him. She obviously had much better eyesight than him. Then again, he wasn’t twelve anymore. Federal HAZMAT teams, with the aid of local law enforcement, had placed cones along the road to merge the lanes. Their efforts effectively turned the congestion into a living nightmare to any driver on the road. Large orange plastic barriers blocked all exits, including the back road Paul and Julie were looking for. Though the barriers looked penetrable, they were filled to their weight with water, making them solid as concrete.