Voices of the Apocalypse: The Collection

by Simone Pond

  “I had to figure some shit out. Decided I’m not shipping off to be in some pretend war.”

  I took in a deep breath and felt my chest unhinge from its vice grip. “No, I mean, what’d you think about the letter?”

  He took my hand and squeezed it. “I loved it. Every word. That’s why I decided not to go.”

  “Wow. Maybe I should write more letters.” I smiled.

  “Maybe you should’ve told me how you felt two years ago.”

  “I didn’t think a sixteen-year-old would be interested in a fourteen-year-old.” I paused for a second. “And you could’ve said something, you know?”

  “I thought I had more time.”

  We all thought we had more time. That’s why we were in that mess. “If you don’t show up at the location on Monday, they’ll hunt you down. You could end up dead.”

  “I’m dead either way.”

  We stared at the desolate street for a few tense moments. My hand started sweating, so I pulled it away and wiped it off on my shorts. Not very ladylike, but it was better than sweating everywhere.

  “I almost didn’t recognize you.” He motioned to my head.

  “Yeah, I did it in protest.”

  He laughed and lifted my chin so we were staring directly into each other’s eyes. This was way better than staring at his reflection in the rearview mirror. I had been dreaming about him for such a long time that the moment didn’t seem real. I had an entire diary filled with fantasies, but this was actually happening. I didn’t want to lose it. I wanted to cling to every single second. Matt held my face––with the hands I had pictured touching my body––and I prayed that he’d hurry up and kiss me so I could breathe again.

  “I want you to come with me,” he said in a very serious tone.

  “With you where?”

  “To Shenandoah. There’s a bunch of people hiding in the woods. The end is coming for all of us. I’ve heard things.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “Mandated viruses that will kill off a lot of people. Dropping bombs on every city and neighborhood across the country. Messed up shit.”

  “That won’t happen here. It’s the nation’s capital. The White House and all that.”

  “I’m surprised it wasn’t first on their list.”

  “What list? What are you talking about?” I jerked away and leaned against the passenger side door. The moment I’d been dreaming about for the last two years had just turned down a dark road. I didn’t want to believe him, but I knew he was telling the truth.

  “Listen, Toni. There’s not much time. I came to get you so we can get the hell outta town. Tonight.”

  “What? I can’t just leave my home. My sister and friends.”

  “If you stay, you’ll die. They’re gonna wipe out everything and everyone.”

  I didn’t want to cry in front of the boy I’d been crushing on. I wanted to be a strong woman capable of handling anything, but I was cracking right down the middle. How could I leave my little sister and my best friends? What about my parents? They were annoying and strict, but I loved them. I couldn’t leave them behind to die. But I also wanted to be with Matt. Could I have it both ways?

  He took my hand again. “I’m sorry to break it down like this, but it’s better to know the truth than get blindsided. These pricks are using the Repatterning to kill us off. We need to fight back and try to survive this genocide.”

  I wiped away some tears with my free hand. I was a slobbery mess, but Matt didn’t seem to mind. “Genocide is a strong word.”

  He kissed my fingers and then my wrist, sending ripples of endless chills up and down my arm. My chest swelled and I could’ve burst wide open.

  “Wait, Matt . . .” I mumbled, making a half-assed attempt to stop him.

  “We’ve waited long enough,” he whispered.

  He was right about that. And if he were running off to the Shenandoah Mountains, I might not ever see him again. I wasn’t going to miss my chance––again. He pulled me closer and kissed my wet cheek. His soft lips gently made their way to my mouth. My body quivered from the top of my shaved head down to my toes. The energy sparked between our bodies.

  “Do you feel this?” I leaned back, letting his lips move down my neck.

  “Oh, I feel it.”

  Our energy was like a gale force swooping down from the mountains. He pulled me through the small opening between the front seats. We landed in the backseat, where there was a lot more room to spread out. I had kissed a few boys at dances and parties. I had even come close to giving myself to them, but nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the ecstasy that accompanied Matt’s touch. I stretched out on the backseat, ready to let him take my dangling thread of virginity. His lips moved from my mouth to my neck, while his fingers reached under my shirt, caressing my waist and inching lower. The zipper of my shorts went down.

  But then he stopped.

  He pulled himself off and jumped into the front seat, leaving me sprawled out and unfinished.

  “Holy shit.” He panted, smoothing his hair back into place.

  I sat up, extremely irritated. “What’s going on?”

  “You father’s here!”

  My heart froze. “Oh, man.” I zipped my shorts and readjusted my bra.

  The rap at the window rattled the glass. Matt slowly opened the door.

  “Hello, sir.”

  “Is my daughter, Antonia, with you?” My father’s voice remained steady, but I could hear his blood boiling.

  Matt looked back at me and I nodded. I wasn’t getting out of that one.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Send her out, please.”

  Matt opened the side door.

  “Hi, Dad.” I got out and stood in front of him.

  “You’re past curfew. Not just mine, but the mandated curfew. What the hell are you doing out here, Antonia?”

  “I was, um, I was . . .” I couldn’t stop thinking that I was about to have sex in the backseat of the minivan before he interrupted the moment.

  “She was helping me, sir.” Matt cut in, taking my father’s attention off me, so I could pull myself together.

  “With what? Fleeing before you’re supposed to ship out on Monday?”

  “That’s pretty accurate. I’m not about to go forward with that crock of shit draft. Pardon me, sir. But I’m not going out like that.”

  “And you thought you’d involve my daughter?”

  “Well, I guess I wanted to, um . . .”

  “He needed me to help sneak his mother out of the house, Dad,” I blurted. “He can’t be seen in public. Not with the Planners watching.”

  My father eyed us both for a few moments, assessing the situation like any ex-military man would do.

  “I’m not buying it. I’d bet my last dollar that Matt came to get you and make a run for it.”

  Damn, he was good––a human lie detector.

  “Not entirely true, sir. I was hoping to convince a bunch of people to make a run for it. I came for Toni first.”

  My father’s stern eyes bore into me. “And you were actually considering this plan?”

  “I hadn’t made my decision yet. I wanted to make sure he was a good kisser first.” I tried to break some of the ice frosting the air.

  My father didn’t find my quip funny. Instead, he grabbed the back of my neck and pushed me toward our house. I looked back at Matt. He mouthed something, but I was never good at reading lips. My father shoved me along, not saying a single word, which was way worse than when he yelled. Before we got to the front door, I glanced down the street one last time, but the minivan was gone.

  Matt was gone.

  “Consider yourself on restriction for the rest of the summer.” My father slammed the door and bolted the lock.

  “But summer hasn’t even started.”

  “Call it a preemptive strike.”

  “I hate you,” I muttered under my breath.

  “No you don’t. You hate rules.”
/>   He was right about that. Especially rules that were completely ridiculous. Like mandated curfews, or young boys being shipped off to fight in some fake war.

  In my room, I fell onto the bed and cried into the pillows. After a few minutes, the door quietly opened and Andi came in.

  “Sorry.” She sat next to me. “I’m not a very good sister leaving you like that. But I didn’t wanna get in trouble.”

  “It’s not your fault. I should’ve come home first, then snuck out.” “Was it Mrs. Wesson? Or Matt?”

  “What do you think?”

  She smiled and we both laughed.

  “What did he want? To bang you before he ships out on Monday?”

  “He’s not going. He’s going to Shenandoah with some other people. They’re hiding in the mountains before . . .”

  “Before what?”

  She was too young to hear the truth, but I couldn’t lie to my sister. “Before the end of everything.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “The Planners are going to use some mandated vaccine to kill us off, then they’re going to burn everything down.”

  Andi started crying. “Why? For what?”

  I put my arm around her shoulder. “I don’t know. Matt didn’t get to tell me that part. We got kinda distracted.”

  She looked up, grinning through her tears. “Did you do it?”

  “Almost. Until Dad showed up.”

  “Gross!” She laughed, shoving me away.

  Something clicked against my window. The sound was familiar, like a small pebble hitting the glass. Lynn had used that tactic many times to get me to sneak out with her. No way would I leave the house again and risk getting caught; I was already in enough trouble. She’d have to turn her skinny ass around and go back home. I gently opened the window and peeked down to the grass.

  Matt stood there, waving for me to come down.

  “You’re crazy,” I whispered through the screen.

  “Is it Lynn?” Andi poked up behind me. “Oh, no,” she groaned.

  “Quiet, or the sergeant will hear you.” I pinched her arm.

  “Ouch!” she shouted.

  We froze, waiting to see if our father had heard us. I held up my finger, instructing Matt to chill the hell out for a minute. Andi tiptoed out of my room and back to hers before we got caught. A harsh silence filled the room. There wasn’t any other movement in the house, so I figured my father was either asleep, or consumed by the news channel. I went back to the window and peered down to Matt.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  He folded his arms across his chest, smiling. “I’m not leaving without you.”

  The moonlight beamed in his eyes, and I was right there with him. It was like we were being sucked into a tornado that was spinning across the galaxy. The feelings were unstoppable. We had to be together. Nothing could get in our way, not my ex-military father or the dipshit Planners.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “This whole thing. It doesn’t seem real. You coming back for me. Running away together, like Romeo and Juliet.”

  “They didn’t run away together. They died.”

  “Hmm.” Not quite the ending I had written about in my diary.

  “You and I––we’re gonna live. But we gotta leave. Like now.”

  Andi had crept back into my room and nudged my arm. “Tell him I’m coming too.” She pointed to her pink suitcase.

  I held back my laughter, wondering what she had packed. I pictured a stack of fashion magazines, her hairdryer, and her favorite shorts that had been getting a lot of airtime.

  “Are you kidding with that? You’re taking a pink suitcase to live in the mountains?”

  Before I could stop her, she leaned out the window and called softly to Matt, “I’m coming too.”

  He gave the thumbs up.

  What was I supposed to do? I wanted to live, but I didn’t want to leave my parents or our friends behind. But if I didn’t do something, I’d miss out on everything. “Is this really happening?”

  “Come on, sis. We’re kinda out of options.” Andi went to my closet, pulled out my backpack, and tossed it to me. “Pack.”

  “What about Mom and Dad?” I asked.

  “You know they’d never leave this house. They’ve been here for over twenty years. They’re going down with this thing. We’re young and still have a lot of living to do.”

  Staring at my little sister, I was shocked and awed by her bravery. She was willing to walk away from everything she loved to go live in the mountains. Her courage inspired me. I shoved some clothes, running shoes, a blanket, and my diary into the backpack.

  I looked at her pink suitcase. “You don’t have your hairdryer in there, do you?”

  “No. But I did bring a towel.”

  The two of us slipped out of my bedroom and made it downstairs without getting caught. She grabbed a box of crackers from the cabinet, and I got a few bottles of water. I scribbled a short a note to our parents, keeping my emotions intact. There was no time for sentiment.

  In the yard, Matt was waiting with a huge smile. He kissed my cheek and took Andi’s pink suitcase. We stuck to the shadows, making our way down the street toward the minivan.

  “I think we should get the girls,” I said.

  “We can try,” Matt said. “But if they don’t wanna come, we don’t have time to convince them.”

  “Agreed,” I said.

  He put the minivan in neutral and let it roll down the street. Once we were far enough away from my house, he turned on the ignition and drove through the back roads to Lynn’s house.

  “What about your mom?” I kept watching the back window to make sure we weren’t being followed.

  “She’s not coming,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  “She’s gone.”

  “Gone where?”

  “Sleeping pills.” He pressed his lips together and stayed focused.

  “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? I mean, of course you’re not okay. I’m sorry.” There was nothing else I could say to make it better.

  “I’m just glad you’re here.” He grabbed my hand and held it tightly.

  “You guys aren’t going to be all lovey-dovey are you?” Andi yawned from the backseat.

  “Go to sleep,” I said.

  We pulled over and parked in a cul-de-sac near Lynn’s house. I looked up at the moon. It was almost full. I wanted to kiss Matt again, but I knew once we got to the mountains that we’d have more time. We’d have a lot more time.

  - The End -

  The Gift

  RANSOM SHERMAN AND Keyla Johnson were probably the last two people you’d ever expect to find roving around together. But it was the end of the world and sometimes that was how these things went.

  Ransom was a sixty-three-year-old retired farmer, living in a secluded spot in the woods somewhere in Lake County. He wasn’t retired by choice––the workhorse was no quitter––he had lost his Ohio dairy farm when the big corporations took control of the Midwest farming industry in the early 2000s. The big guns had shut him down and forced him off his land. A true survivalist, he stole back some of his own chickens and claimed a hidden location in the woods, where he’d been living for over two decades. Over the years, his eggs had become the most popular item at the weekly farmers market in the small town of Willoughby. He was heading to the market when he met Keyla Johnson.

  He drove his rickety antique tractor along Erie Street, biting down on a piece of twig he had picked specifically for the ride to town. Chewing twigs had replaced his habit of chewing on wooden matches. Ransom often complained that “there weren’t no more matches to gnaw on no more.” He passed by the boarded-up shops and dilapidated brick buildings, remembering visions of the once charming town. The place had diminished in the last few years due to the Repatterning. Ransom had told the townspeople the Repatterning was a bunch of hooey, but nobody listened. He knew not to trust anything that worked so hard t
o sell itself. Just like the corporations taking over the farming industry, he knew the Repatterning was the beginning of the end.

  The farmers market dwindled down a little bit more each week as the residents of Willoughby started disappearing. There were tales about “The Girl in Blue” coming from the cemetery to claim their souls, but Ransom knew it was the broken economy that had claimed them. Many folks had to relocate up north to work on the Chicago City Center. Ransom didn’t care about any foolish city center, and he wasn’t about to depend on anyone else to feed him so he stayed put. A handful of residents still lived in Willoughby because they were either too sick or old to travel. Ransom planned to stick around with those sad saps until the bitter end.

  He was ruminating on those thoughts when he spotted Keyla crouched against the empty building where the town dentist used to work. The small black girl was gnawing on a raw corncob. The poor thing looked so scrawny and pathetic underneath her unruly mane that Ransom stopped his tractor. She couldn’t have been more than twelve-years-old. Someone so young shouldn’t be all alone.

  He walked over to the girl. “That probably ain’t good fer your teeth.”

  “Hahaha!” She laughed.

  “What’s ticklin’ you?”

  “That’s an amusing comment, coming from a man with hardly any teeth left in his own mouth.”

  She sounded like one of those well-educated types from a good family. Ransom wondered how the girl had ended up all alone in the dying town of Willoughby. She continued biting down into the cob, pretending like it wasn’t bothering her.

  “Hows about I get ya somethin’ real to eat?” Ransom tried to smile.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t know you.”

  “I ain’t asking ya to go anywheres with me. I’m offerin’ to git ya fed.”

  She flinched. “I’m not stupid. I know how these things go. You take me somewhere and tie me up and do horrible things. Then you kill me, or leave me for dead.”

  Ransom stepped back a few inches, wondering if she was talking from experience. A sadness settled in his body. The world was all wrong, making victims out of its innocents. Now he had to help her. Though she was black and had a proper city accent, she reminded him of his daughter––the one he tried not to think about. The one he had lost in a farming accident about thirty years ago.