End Days Super Boxset

by Hayden, Roger

  “But what?” Aaron shouted.

  “Nothing,” Steve said. “Just don’t kill us.”

  He pressed Aaron no further.

  Aaron played with the shifting lever some more, placing it in neutral then drive. He miscalculated, turned his head back, and pressed down on the gas pedal. As a result, the car jerked forward and flew straight toward the house. Aaron tried to move his foot but hit the gas pedal harder. Steve screamed. Aaron had little time to react before the car barreled toward the front patio, flew on the deck, and crashed through the front door. Both airbags instantly deployed and smacked Aaron and Steve in their faces. Aaron moved his foot off the gas pedal and the car came to a halt. Smoke billowed from the engine. They lifted their heads up in a daze. Steve looked around in disbelief of their interior surroundings.

  “Holy shit,” Aaron said, rubbing his face.

  He had cuts on his forehead from the force of the airbag. He jerked the lever back into park and shut off the engine.

  “We gotta get out of here,” he said.

  They opened the car doors and climbed out of the wrecked vehicle. After looking around in wonderment, they fled the house as if nothing had happened. Steve knew that he could tell Aaron, “I told you so,” but he didn’t see the point. He could see the regret on Aaron’s face. They scurried down the front yard.

  “Let’s go back to my house,” Aaron said.

  Steve didn’t respond but walked close by.

  “I don’t know what happened,” Aaron said defensively.

  “It’s okay,” Steve said. “No one saw anything.”

  “You’re right,” Aaron said. “We just need to get back home fast.”

  They were shaken but managed to scale the block back to Aaron’s house in no time. Aaron searched his pockets for the keys and jiggled them out of his pocket. He opened the door and they ran inside.

  The crash scene remained undiscovered for about an hour before a wandering group of individuals approached the house curiously. Four men, dazed in their own regard, followed the smoke inside. Tire marks from the driveway led directly into the house, and the scene left the men baffled. Like Aaron and Steve, they had been wandering the neighborhood. They were drifters, looking for work, but stranded after the bus never picked them up from their day of painting the town sign, a large billboard that said: “Welcome to Beech Creek.” They were curious to find no one in the car or in the house. One of the tired and weary men got into the car and started it. The front-end was heavily damaged, but it still worked. For the men, the house on Maker’s Street was open for business.

  Chapter Two

  Home Sweet Home

  Jordan was against the idea from the start. He had insisted that they get out of town, but Paul had a point. To evacuate the town with no supplies of any kind was foolish. Paul assured Jordan that they had food and water at his house, which they could pack into the Humvee. Jordan had filled the back of the vehicle with MRE boxes, but they could have used even more. MREs--or Meals, Ready-to-Eat--were generally good for about three years. Jordan had found a pallet of them in the maintenance hangar and they had at least two years until they expired. He knew they couldn’t very well live off them, as they were not considered by the military as a sustaining food source for over twenty-one days. In the back of the Humvee sat Julie, Paul’s stepdaughter. She was exhausted from their journey through the woods while trying to find a way home after their car ran out of gas.

  They had discovered the Army Reserve base in the midst of their travels and found it evacuated of all personnel, with the exception of Jordan, a retired Sergeant First Class, now military analyst. Paul wanted most to get Julie some different clothes. She had been wearing her soccer uniform since that morning and they had been through hell. In the last ten minutes, Paul and Julie had scarfed down an entire MRE each. The aftermath of the binge eating had made them tired. The sun had nearly sunk below the horizon, leaving them at the mercy of the coming night.

  The Humvee vibrated and shook as it reached its top speed on the deserted town road. They couldn’t hear much over the blaring engine, so there was little talking. Occasionally Paul would yell out to Jordan where they needed to turn. They were minutes away from his house. Though they were traveling under the pretense of working together, Paul felt like they could go their separate ways after the fact. He would give Jordan some supplies for the trouble then they could take Samantha’s car and evacuate the town if necessary. It was unlikely that they would have any power, with the electronic grid seemingly out throughout the entire town, but finding home would be enough comfort for the day.

  Paul was exhausted, anxious, and in need of a good shower. He wrestled with their options and wondered whether they should leave Jordan and work together or stay at the house for the night and get some rest. Jordan told them there was nuclear fallout in the air. He insisted on this from when they first met him to their time on the road. It was strange to think that even with a nuclear attack looming over them, Paul could focus on little more than Samantha. He feared he may never see her again, but held onto hope like a fragile string.

  If only he could talk to her and find out what was going on. His cell phone was long dead, just like the empty neighborhood before them.

  “Turn here,” Paul yelled.

  Jordan nodded and turned to the right suddenly without slowing down. Julie gripped the side of the vehicle as the MREs came tumbling near her.

  “Hey, watch it,” she yelled to Jordan.

  He didn’t respond, and the vehicle roared as he drove farther down the road. They were close. Paul took comfort in their familiar surroundings. Maker’s Street, their street, was coming up. The closer they got to the house, the less Paul felt like they were in danger. The idea that they could no longer stay in their house, or their town, for that matter, was ridiculous. Jordan would insist that they leave, but where would they go? Paul then understood the mentality of those who remained in their homes even after a mandated evacuation was put in place. He used to marvel at how someone could be so foolish to ignore an evacuation during a hurricane or major storm. Now he could understand. It was hard to leave your home when it was often the safest place out there.

  “Take a right at Maker’s Street,” Paul yelled.

  Julie gripped the side of the vehicle again, anticipating a possible rollover. This time, however, Jordan slowed down before he turned. Perhaps he wasn’t in such a rush after all. Paul turned to check on Julie. She looked worn and tired, but her eyes showed anticipation. Paul smiled and leaned closer.

  “We’re almost home,” he said.

  “I know,” she responded while looking out the window.

  Jordan had slowed the vehicle to a rolling pace. He had the high beams on to navigate the dark road. There were no functioning streetlights to brighten their path. The long road was aligned with houses all the way to the end of a three-way stop. Paul could see their house approaching.

  “It’s the third house on the left,” he said pointing.

  Jordan slowed the vehicle more, as the engine rumbled, though he knew they had little time to spare. He planned to give Paul and Julie five minutes to grab their things. Any longer and they could find their own way. He turned and drove up the driveway. Their home was on a hill. The bright beams of the Humvee revealed a large crater through the front of their house. Paul wondered for a moment if they had stopped at the wrong house. He looked above the garage doors and saw their house number. It read 2456. He looked back to the hole in the house and noticed tire marks leading all the way through the front yard to the street below. Jordan took notice of the damage as well.

  “Are you in the middle of some kind of repair work on your home?” he asked.

  Paul didn’t answer. He continued to stare at the house in complete shock. He opened the Humvee door and placed his foot onto the driveway. Jordan put the vehicle in park and kept the engine running. Julie sat up from her seat and took notice. The gaping opening into their home was littered with wood, insulation,
and ceiling that had fallen into a pile like the aftermath of a bombing. She opened her door, causing Paul to turn around.

  “Stay in the car, Julie,” he demanded.

  “What happened?” Jordan asked after taking a closer look.

  Julie sunk back into her seat, leaving her door open.

  “Julie,” Jordan said. “Could you please close your door? Remember the fallout in the air?”

  Julie rolled her eyes and pulled the door shut. Paul crept out of the vehicle then realized Samantha’s Tahoe was missing. Again, he wondered if they were at the wrong house.

  “Is everything okay?” Jordan asked.

  Paul slowly shut the door then walked toward the house. Jordan remained in the vehicle as they watched Paul approach his demolished home, one step at a time. Paul peered into the hole then stepped inside.

  “What’s going on?” Julie asked.

  Jordan turned slightly to address her.

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “Your house doesn't look so good.”

  “My mom’s car is missing,” Julie said.

  Jordan surveyed the damage again. Tire tracks led from the driveway to the front of the house, then down the front yard and into the street. It was as if someone had left them a blueprint of the crime. Paul jogged back to the Humvee and swung open his door.

  “Do you have a flashlight in here?” he asked.

  “Check the back,” Jordan said. “Looks like someone stole your car and crashed it through the house.”

  “Well, it’s not there anymore,” Paul said.

  “Guess they managed to get it on the road,” Jordan said.

  “Julie, see if there’s a flashlight back there,” Paul said.

  Julie felt around and came across a backpack.

  “There’s just a bunch of boxes and this backpack,” she said.

  “Oh yeah, check the backpack,” Jordan said.

  Julie unzipped the bag and felt past some tools, a first aid kit, and what appeared to be a small box of 9mm bullets. At the bottom of the pack she felt a small plastic flashlight.

  “Here,” she said, holding it up.

  Paul grabbed the flashlight from her small hand and shut the Humvee door.

  “Hey!” Jordan yelled out. He opened his door a crack. “Paul, what the hell is going on? I need to get back on the road.”

  Paul turned around. “Just give me one minute,” he answered.

  Jordan shut his door and waited. “This is bullshit,” he said, forgetting that Julie was right behind him.

  “You’re right.”

  Her voice startled him. They watched as Paul scanned the inside of the house with his flashlight. He came to a wall and leaned against it in defeat. Then, unexpectedly, he punched and kicked the wall in a fury of anger.

  “Your dad is losing it,” Jordan said.

  Julie opened the door and exited the Humvee. Jordan yelled to her, but she kept moving toward the house. He sat in the Humvee as it rumbled, seriously contemplating whether to leave or not. Julie ran to the house and climbed over the debris into the living room. Paul’s flashlight shined on her.

  “I told you to stay in the car,” he said.

  “It’s not a car, it’s a Humvee,” she snapped back.

  “I don’t know if it’s safe here yet, go back to the Humvee.”

  She looked around the house, past the destruction, and noticed that several items were missing aside from furniture.

  “Did we get robbed?” Julie asked.

  “It appears so,” Paul said, walking away.

  Suddenly, Paul remembered Jordan. They were entirely at his mercy. They had no car, and Paul wasn’t sure of what remained in the house. With Julie out of the Humvee, Paul realized that nothing was keeping Jordan in the driveway beyond being a nice guy, and he had no idea what kind of guy Jordan was. He ran outside and fled the house with the beam from the flashlight swinging in the air. He was relieved to see the Humvee still parked and idling. He knocked on the driver’s side door. In response, Jordan opened it a crack.

  “We were robbed,” Paul said as sweat dripped his forehead. “They took the car, smashed it through the house, and took God knows what.”

  Jordan shook his head. He knew that the robbery had changed everything. “So now what?” he asked.

  “I’ve been thinking--hear me out--just help us get somewhere safe from the fallout, it’s all I ask.”

  Jordan thought to himself for a moment then responded. “I’m sure we can work something out, but we need to hit the road. We’ve wasted enough time as it is.”

  “I understand, but please, give us five minutes to grab what we can from the house. We need clothes, hygiene products, food.”

  “None of that matters right now,” Jordan interrupted. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to remain in this town? You’re putting me in danger just standing there.”

  “Five minutes, then we’re on the road. You have to work with me here,” Paul pleaded.

  They didn’t have much time to argue, so Jordan got to the point.

  “If you go over five minutes, I’m gone.”

  Paul replied enthusiastically. “Thank you, we’ll be quick,” he said as he turned and ran toward the house.

  Julie examined the darkness of their kitchen, the open cabinets, and the bareness of everything. It felt like a shadow of their former home. She heard Paul’s footsteps stampeding upon the wood tile floors.

  “Julie,” he called.

  “I’m in the kitchen,” she replied.

  Paul ran into the kitchen and stopped to see the empty cabinets that once stored food. He moved the flashlight to the pantry. Its door hung open, displaying empty shelves. He was in a trance of disbelief, but then quickly snapped out of it. He knelt down in front of Julie and placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “We don’t have much time, but we have to go with Jordan. I want you to grab a bag and throw whatever food we have left, plus some clothes and hygiene products.”

  “Why can’t we stay here?” Julie asked.

  “It’s too dangerous. We don’t know who was here and if they’re coming back.”

  Julie's voice started to shake as a tear streamed down her cheek. “But I don’t want to go anywhere else. I’m tired. I want to take a shower. I’m sick of moving.”

  “There’s no power here. The town is under evacuation. We’ll only be gone for a little while until everything goes back to normal.” Even as he spoke, Paul wasn’t sure if he believed a word he was saying.

  “I’ll stay here and you guys can leave,” Julie said.

  “Julie, please do as I say. We’re running out of time,” Paul said with a serious tone.

  Julie moved away from him and toward her room. “Fine,” she said. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice.”

  Paul swung open the refrigerator, not expecting much, and saw that it had been left alone. Few items remained: a soda bottle, butter, mustard, and a salad from the night before. He wondered why he had made promises to Jordan about food and supplies when he knew they had very little. He was behind on his grocery shopping, and now it was coming back to haunt him.

  Paul turned away from the refrigerator and ran to his room. He grabbed a large black backpack from his closet and moved to his dresser. He stuffed the bag with clothes until it was nearly full. He threw in a small framed picture of him, Samantha, and Julie that had been shattered in the breakin. As he zipped up his bag, he heard the shower running outside the room. Paul marched to the bathroom and banged on the door.

  “I told you we don’t have time for that!” he said.

  “I can take really quick showers,” Julie yelled from inside.

  Paul attempted to suppress his anger and frustration.

  “One minute,” he yelled. “Starting now!”

  Paul opened Julie’s door and scanned her room with his flashlight. Nothing appeared to have been ransacked in the manner that the living room and kitchen had been. Small posters of female pop stars hung on the wall next
to a picture of Julie’s soccer team, where she was kneeling in the front row. Her bed was unmade, with clothes strewn across. Her white dresser had several drawers open with clothes hanging out. She must have gone through her room like a tornado the moment she walked in. Paul looked at his watch, it was 8:32 P.M. and they had two minutes left. Paul heard the water shut off in the shower.

  “Okay, we have to leave now!” he shouted.

  He wanted to take a shower of his own, but they were nearly out of time. Paul went into his room to grab his bag then looked around for other things to take. If he thought about it long enough, they would end up never leaving. Paul heard Julie come out of the bathroom.

  “You should use it while the water is still hot,” she said from across the hall. Julie had taken a shower and changed in less than five minutes. Paul was amazed; however, he knew there was no way he could do the same. The shower soon became the least of his problems as the MRE settled in. Paul clutched his stomach in pain.

  “Julie,” he said, “tell Jordan that I’ll be right out.”

  He ran to the bathroom and slammed the door.

  “Go!” he yelled from the inside.

  Wearing a T-shirt, jeans, sneakers, and a jacket, Julie shuffled to her room, took a look around the darkness, and walked out with her backpack. She stopped at the front door and set her pack down as if forgetting something. She marched down the hallway, feeling the walls along the way, and went back to her room. The moonlight from outside shined in through her window and onto her desk. On top of her desk rested a clean notebook she hadn’t written in yet. She grabbed it and fled the room past the embarrassing sounds of Paul in the bathroom.

  They had gone over their time two minutes by the time Julie made it out the Humvee.

  Jordan felt as if he failed himself. When five minutes had passed, he told himself that he wouldn’t wait longer than ten minutes. “Ten minutes, then I’m out,” he said.

  That was his compromise. He felt that to risk so much for two strangers was foolish, but he wasn’t ready to have them on his conscience yet. Julie opened the side door and climbed in the back.