American Apocalypse

by Nova

  “I never took anyone’s job. I have—excuse me, had—a small business. I paid my taxes and bothered no one.”

  “Right! A small business! I know the type: You charged one price for ‘your people’ and another one for people like me! You and your fucking twelve people in a threebedroom house, trashing my neighborhood, driving down house prices! That’s another thing, goddamn it! Your fucking people!”

  He was starting to redline. I put my hand on the butt of my gun and told myself, One more comment and I move.

  They were standing almost toe-to-toe. Aly held up a hand in a placating gesture. “Yes, sir, I know, I know. Not all of us are like that. Some—”

  “Fuck you!” White Man screamed, not giving Aly a chance to finish. “You took my job and my wife!”

  With that, his hand dropped to his holstered gun. Aly was fast—faster than the White Man. Aly had his knife out and had cut across White Man’s stomach before the guy cleared nylon. A red smile opened across his T-shirt. It was the only smile I had seen so far today.

  Aly had a look of calm determination, while White Man’s face was so red and contorted that if Aly or I didn’t get him, a heart attack probably would. Aly may have been fast, but he had better be thankful I was there. I cleared leather, cocked, and fired at the same time that Aly opened him up. The first round hit White Man in the shoulder; the second, in the head. I walked over to Aly.

  “Put the knife away, Aly.”

  He tried to sheath it, but he was shaking too much.

  “It’s okay, Aly, just drop it.”

  He let the knife go, then he turned his head, and vomited. I stepped back a pace, Whoa, we are going to have a mess here. Well, someone was—I sure as hell wasn’t going to clean it up. Aly wiped his mouth on the fabric of his shirt. Then he stepped back, dropped down to his knees, and placed his hands behind his head and started chanting.

  “Aly. Aly!”

  I had to say it twice to get his attention.

  “Stand up!”

  Jeebus. Why did people have to make this stuff so complicated? He stood up at attention, not looking at me.

  “Aly, it’s okay.” I tried to make my voice sound soothing.

  “Aly, look at me.”

  He looked at me, his face pale and shaken. “It’s okay. You are not in trouble,” I said. He looked at me like he thought I was lying. I shrugged. “You’re not.” What the hell did he expect me to say? You just won the fucking lottery? The joy spreading across his face, as my words sank in, was interesting to watch.

  “You’re not going to shoot me?”

  “No, at least not today. Why? You forget to tell me something?”

  “No! No, I have not done anything!”

  “Well, you can do one thing.”

  He looked at me, his eyes starting to narrow.

  “Drag this piece of meat out of the sun. Then go borrow a bucket from someone and splash some water on this mess.”

  “No problem, Mr. Gardener!”

  I started to walk away. I stopped and turned around. “Oh, and I want his weapon and half the cash, if he has any. You can have the rest, plus them boots.”

  His smile got bigger. He replied, “No problem.”

  “If you can’t find me, leave the stuff at the Dollar Store.”

  I walked away. I got about a hundred paces from him when I realized I had forgotten to ask about the knife. Oh well, another time. Max was talking to one of the vendors at the market.

  “What was that about?”

  I told him. “Had you ever seen the guy before?” he asked.

  “No. But I have been gone a while.”

  “Yeah, there’s that.”

  I described the guy to Max; he shook his head, “Nope, doesn’t ring any bells. I guess I am going to have to walk over there and take a look at his face.”

  “Ah, you might as well not bother.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, let’s take a ride over to the police station and see what we can see.” We started walking to a small delivery truck. “Sorry I am late. Finding a truck you can haul stuff in has turned into a major pain in the ass around here.”

  I was surprised to see the two ninjas sitting in the cab.

  “What?”

  “Yeah,” Max replied, “They came with the truck. Plus, we need the backs for moving.”

  As we approached the truck, the door swung open, and the two ninjas dropped to the ground. I said, “Hey, guys.” But they just stared at me. “What’s the matter? Night cut out your tongues?”

  Before they could answer Max told them, “Go around back and climb in. You don’t have to close the doors.”

  We climbed into the cab. Once we settled in, I asked him, “What’s their problem?”

  Max replied, “They saw you shoot that man.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  WHY BURN?

  We drove to the police station. Nobody was there. City hall looked empty also—when you have no money to pay people, they have a tendency not to want to work. Some states and counties were paying with chits or “state dollars.” They were managing to keep some of their people coming in that way. I suppose if it was a safe environment at work and you had someone to watch your house, it made sense. Who knows, maybe you could make something on the side through kickbacks, fraud, or ”borrowing.”

  The Fairfax city hall was empty because it was no longer a safe environment. I did not know for sure but my guess was the commute was a nightmare now, and not just because of the traffic. On the way over Max told me that his duties as chief of police were going to be shortlived.

  “Why?”

  “Because the mayor decided to shut down the entire city government. No money to pay anybody. He said he is going to tell Fairfax County that the city is now their responsibility.”

  I laughed. “I bet that is going to go over really well.”

  “It doesn’t matter. He is already gone. He told me he was telling anyone who would listen that if you had somewhere safe to go, you had better go.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

  I backed the truck up to the main door. We pulled the ramp out and were ready to start. Max got us together and outlined what we were going to do. “We are here for weapons and ammunition first. After that, we will walk through the place and see what we can find. I doubt if there will be much. Once we start loading the weapons, I want two people on the truck. You bring a load out, then you wait until the other team shows up with their load. They stay—you go. Any questions?”

  There weren’t. We worked steadily. The heat was off in the building and was probably going to stay off for the coming winter. It didn’t matter. Moving around kept us warm until we stood our turn at the truck. Then I could feel the sweat dry. I was teamed with the taller ninja. He was a good worker, but no conversationalist. We were done by late afternoon, and I was glad because my thigh was starting to throb. Me and the taller ninja went through the offices looking for anything worth taking after all the weapons were loaded. I opened a desk drawer and found a 2005 Penthouse that I tossed to him, saying, “Here you go. Just in case the Internet is down or your girlfriend is pissed off at you.” He opened it and his eyes got big.

  “First time you seen naked women on paper?”

  He nodded and kept thumbing through the pages. We went back to the truck not completely empty-handed. I found a Phillips-head screwdriver and Taller Ninja had found a paperweight he liked. The Penthouse was rolled up and sticking out of his back pocket. We unloaded everything into the basement of the motel.

  When we finished, Max had me stay behind. “Gardener, we need to start planning a bug-out for ourselves.”

  I can’t say I was really surprised.

  “Your Dragon Clan is leaving tonight—heading to California, to family from the sound of it—and didn’t invite most of the Anchorage Motel part of the clan to go along. Word was, they didn’t trust you, what with you being a cop now, and Night wasn’t willing to dump you. On
ly Shorter Ninja is going with them. Apparently, he’s got a cousin in the main clan that he came here with originally. That’s his closest family here.”

  “Damn.” This was news to me. I started to get pissed, then I thought, I wonder if it would be better for Night if she left with them. But I realized I didn’t want to be left.

  “I think we are going to need to move much faster than I imagined,” Max said. “Most of the schedule will be built around accumulating what we need. Every time I think I’ve got a reasonable list, something else pops into my mind.”

  “You have any idea where we are going?”

  “Right now I am thinking Tommy’s farm. It is far from optimal, especially from a defensive viewpoint. We got to be able to eat and trade, though.”

  “Well, I am open to the idea of being a brigand.” I meant it, sort of.

  Max grinned. “You ask Mama-san how she feels about that?”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah—Oh. C’mon, let’s go eat some soup.”

  It was Night, Max, and me eating soup with bread that Night had picked up from a vendor at the market. We also had apples that had come in from the Shenandoah Valley that day. I was not happy to see blood on the apple where I had taken a bite. I was going to have to start taking better care of my teeth or take some vitamins. I wasn’t sure which. Night went back to her room and reappeared with a school notebook and a couple pens.

  “Okay, let’s start by each of us making a list of what we think we will need.”

  “Maybe we should make a list of categories,” I replied. “I don’t have a clue where to even begin.”

  We all agreed that my idea made sense. I started writing: guns, ammo, clothes, food, tools, first aid, books, a bed. Then I bogged down. Too many thoughts for my brain to process; one thought led to another.

  As in, we need a truck.

  Well, how big?

  How many?

  How do we estimate the sizes of the loads?

  Where do we get them?

  Are we keeping them?

  I was getting so frustrated that I wanted to beat my head on the table. The other two were busy scribbling away. I told them I was going to take a break. I buckled up and went outside. I thought I would walk around the motel, breathe the air, and hopefully quit kicking myself for being so stupid. I walked around to the front of the motel. The Anchorage was on a bit of a rise, enough to let you see some of the surrounding sprawl. There were two major fires and one minor one burning that I could see. Max and I had decided to start running night patrols. The ninjas didn’t know it yet, but the oldest one was going to get deputized. We couldn’t risk the Burners getting loose in our little neighborhood, at least not until we were ready to go.

  I watched as another fire roared into life about four miles away. Someone had invested a lot of fire starter on that one. I imagined the feel of the heat blasting my face . . . watched the dark shadows of the Burners dancing in delight as the flames roared up and out the windows . . . heard the laughing and ecstatic screams as the flames cast their light over the Burner devotees. I didn’t know a lot about the Burner cult but I had a good imagination. I could see myself behaving that way. A big fire has a special kind of power, an elemental magic that calls to you. What information I had about Burners came from hanging out at the oak tree and listening to people bullshit or gossip. That and the few times I had checked out their blog. I did enjoy watching the videos. They really attracted some beautiful women. What had made the videos even more interesting was the comment I had overheard about how easy it was to get laid at a Burner event.

  As he put it, “They light off a building, start dancing, and once it is really burning they go at it like wild dogs.”

  I had tucked that little piece of info away in the back of my head, just in case I was in the neighborhood of a Burner light-off. That was what they called them: a light-off.

  A helicopter zipped past, flying low and fast and headed for the fires. I could see the lights of another one over the largest fire. Word was Homeland Security had snipers in them and they shot anyone they saw dancing around a fire. It didn’t stop the Burners from celebrating. Of course, once the snipers started working, it meant Homeland Security had decided to let the fire burn. Otherwise, if they opened up from the sky prematurely, it made life on the ground hell for the fire response teams.

  In California, the Burners reportedly brought in bands to play for the crowds when they did a big light-off. Sometimes the blogger who had started the whole thing would show up and preach a sermon about the rapidly evolving Burner creed. The fire department, if there still was one, would show up to assist in containment. Often firemen and Burners were the same people. The attitude in California was burn and let burn.

  It was getting chilly, and faraway fires don’t keep you warm.

  I headed back to the room. Max and Night were sitting there, talking and planning. Night smiled when I came back in. “Everything okay?” she asked.

  By now I knew her well enough to recognize the two levels of concern in that one question. “Sure, the Burners are out tonight. Looks like Arlington is getting fired up.” I walked over and kissed her on the cheek.

  Max replied, “Arlington never settled down after Homeland Security killed those women in front of that grocery store.”

  I looked over Night’s shoulder at the pages of paper in front of her, covered with lists and notes. “I see you two have been busy.”

  Max casually replied, “I think your woman here is a logistics genius.” She was smiling. I liked that.

  “She sure as hell is smarter than me.”

  Max laughed. “Hell, that makes the both of us.”

  “Look, I’m not going to be of any help so you guys keep doing what you’re doing. I am going to go see if any of the ninjas feel like playing some Halo. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  I kissed Night on the top of her head and went out the door. I hadn’t played in quite a while. Hopefully, my account was still active. I checked the break room, but only Shorter Ninja was there. He and some kid I had seen around, but whose name I never bothered to learn, were sitting there watching a video.

  “Hey.”

  I got a distracted “Hey” from each in response.

  “I thought you would be gone by now,” I said to Shorter Ninja. He had his pack by his feet.

  “Nah, they aren’t picking me up until 9 o’clock.”

  “So, what’s so interesting?”

  Shorter Ninja pointed at the screen: “Burner video.”

  I pointed at the other kid, “Get out of my chair.”

  He popped up, grabbed a folding chair, and brought it over to sit in.

  “Start it from the beginning.”

  Shorter Ninja restarted it. He told me, “It’s pretty cool.” Then he added hastily, “Not that I am, like, into it, you know.”

  “Right.”

  It was a well-done video. You could tell there was money behind it. As with a movie DVD, you could pick the scenes or play the entire video. I selected “Light-off Video Metal.” It started with a progressive metal track in the background. The screen filled with a spot of fire that gradually grew, bursting in a huge ball of fire as the music crescendoed. The next shot was a burning office building or warehouse. Beautiful young women who bounced in all the right places danced past the flame. Young handsome men screaming and dancing, the girls watching with parted lips. Their moves a combination of Russian cossacks and break dancers. A spoken chant, “Burn! Burn! Burn it all away!” repeated in a loop in the background. Off to the side, half-dressed girls could be glimpsed swaying in the firelight. One of them ran into the scene, grabbed one of the young males, and dragged him back into the darkness. I looked over at Shorter Ninja and his buddy. They were transfixed. The video ended with a close-up of a face. It was tough to tell the gender. The camera went in tight and ended with an eye that filled the screen. A reflection of fire raging in the iris.

  I went back to the DVD menu and clicked on the button l
abeled “Why Burn?”

  It was the blog guy in a Jesus robe. He was sitting on a rock watching the wind blow patterns through an endless field of ripe grain. He watched the wind dance while a quiet piano piece played in the background. The camera went to a close-up. He smiled and said, “Hello.” It was a good smile—a smile you could trust. The eyes were a different story. They spoke to me, and I liked nothing they said:

  “Why do we burn? Why not? What are we burning? We burn money. We burn the machine that has sucked our blood, our lives, and our futures. Devoured them, and then shit the poisoned remains back into our ecosystem. The same poison that ends up in the food they expect us to eat. We become sick and they take more money from us. They work us, poison us, milk us, and then throw us away. If we protest, we are punished, and then blamed for not giving more!”

  The scenes he painted changed with each new movement of music. Each new scene combined with his voice to weave a tapestry of corruption, greed, and selfishness as his hypnotic tone rose and fell with the video stream. All of it seamlessly integrated—it was beautiful: “We must purify our world of the machine, burn it out physically. Hunt down the servants of the beasts and kill them. We must purify ourselves so we will be worthy of it.”

  Okay, I got the point. I shut it down. “You guys want to watch the naked girl video again?”

  I think the other kid was going to say yes, but Shorter Ninja cut him off, “No, we’re good.”

  “So where did you get this?” They both tried to feign innocence.

  “Don’t even think about pulling that shit on me. You know what Max said about this. Max finds out about it and I may have to shoot both of you.”

  I watched both of them go into shock. The other kid’s eyes actually bugged out. It was kind of cool.

  “Just kidding. Come on, guys, breathe. I don’t do CPR on males.”

  They looked at each other. The other kid took a deep breath. “It’s mine.”