180 Days and Counting... Series Box Set books 1 - 3

by B. R. Paulson

  She had no idea why they would put a ruling in the Codes, Covenants, and Restricts - CC&Rs – about owning goats. The rules stated residents could have cows, horses, chickens, dogs, anything, but you couldn’t have goats. No goats. Not in pens or fenced in. Nothing. Just thinking about the irrationality brought a grimace to her face.

  Goats were good for a lot of things, and they were easy to take care of. You could use their milk for just about anything, same as you could with cow milk. If there was a snowstorm, you could pull them right into your garage and not have to worry about there being enough room. Cows on the other hand needed a significantly larger space.

  She squinted at the subject line of the bottom email. What was that? An email from Jackson? Finally! She stopped, staring at his name and thinking back. When had she heard from him last? Not since before the last election.

  He'd sent her an email spouting off about his political preference. Every word he typed was always so full of passion and absolutism. His way was the only way. Most of the time Cady agreed with his philosophies and conspiracies. When she didn’t agree with him, they engaged in fun discussions back and forth that they never took offensively. Dealing with Jackson was refreshing and she looked forward to hearing from him when she was going through really tough times.

  Talking to him always gave her a thrill. Of course, Jackson was a man. Every word he typed and the memes he sent her were riddled with testosterone. Even the male-superiority jokes reeked of “man”. Judging by many things he’d said over time, he had no idea she was a woman.

  And Zach had no idea about the place in her life Jackson held. She didn’t consider it being unfaithful to anyone, let alone her husband. To be fair, no one knew about Jackson. The elicit part of their relationship tickled her. He was her secret. There was nothing romantic between them. He thought of her as a man and she preferred it that. She got more respect as a man. A name like Cody left things basic for her.

  Plus, Jackson was her friend from before.

  Before her ideals had changed. Before she’d turned into a mother with protective instincts and more sentimentality than she’d ever wanted to claim. She was more emotionally attached to people and places and she was embarrassed by that.

  Wait, had her ideals changed? When had she altered into a passive homebody who would rather prep for the inevitable than stepping out and doing something to create change? She wasn’t a sitter or a dreamer, she was a doer and she’d lost that part of her when she’d become a mother. Not that she didn’t want a better world for her daughter. She just had an innate need to be safe, keep her child safe.

  Had Cady lost everything she believed? She lifted her chin. With intentional movements, she rolled the mouse to place the arrow over the subject line. Opening his email wasn’t just a curiosity or a need to find that small thrill… no, now Cady had to do it just to prove the Cady she’d been was still inside the smothered shell she’d become.

  The email opened and his perfunctory words clenched across the screen.

  Moss.

  I'm not sure how this will find you. It's been forever since we spoke. I still believe the way we’ve always talked.

  Maybe more so now.

  There are so many people all around me with no manners or etiquette. Children are getting abused for no reason but evil and people are offended at the color of the sky.

  Decency is gone in the world.

  I’m done trying to figure out how to deal with it.

  As always, when I start to feel too depressed by the world’s situation, I turn to our conversations in the past. I've been putting plans in motion since we last spoke – actually, since our last brainstorming session. I think you would be proud of what I’ve come up with. This is a project over time.

  In fact, we can get this off the ground together. Or I can do it by myself. No, I won’t do that to you. I’ve already started it. I’m about to end it. There’s so much in here… so much I can’t say… so much I want to say.

  Please, ignore my ramblings. None of that matters. The countdown has begun. I'm working on our plans. I have more details that I'll send soon. But don't worry – I'm not going to let us down.

  Not to sound morose, but you and I are the only people who should live. Even my own mother needs to go.

  I know you understand.

  Jackson

  The first skim through only increased the thrill. Anytime Jackson spoke with the presence he had, Cady knew something good was coming. But there was something off in the email, like his obsessive tendencies were warping.

  Over the years, he hadn't done anything harmful to anybody. Mostly he just shared research with Cady that she'd been able to apply in her own jobs. When she'd stopped working, she’d collected information from him, living vicariously through the things he'd researched and discovered.

  But dying? Living? What about their plans? Which one was he talking about because there had been so many over the years. She grinned at the thought that they were “plans”. Cady would’ve referred to them as daydreams, or what-ifs. What if the world’s population was cut in half? What would happen to the ecosystems, if there were no more humans? What if there was a disease that could completely wipe out the world in under one-hundred-and-eighty days? They’d even named their pseudo-virus CJ180d, complete with a mortality completion plan.

  Cady wasn’t sure what he was getting at with the email. It wasn’t possible that he’d created a virus, it wasn’t possible that he’d come up with a plan to destroy the world. Cady would have known what he was up to. Besides, he was one man. What could he do?

  She didn’t bother answering the email right away, because he would be suspicious, if she did. He would probably accuse her of being one of those smart phone yuppies who had all of the emails directed right to the phone.

  How many times had they complained about those exact people? She checked the date of the email. Okay, he’d just sent it that morning. Good, she’d wait until tomorrow or the next day to reply.

  Cady snort-laughed as she reread the cryptic message. He was probably drunk or something. He’d reveal what he was talking about soon, maybe even before she emailed him back. She’d wait. It wasn’t like he’d actually asked her a question or anything anyway.

  Slumping back into her office chair, Cady relished the memories of their conversations as they flooded over her. They’d never met in person and yet, he’d been such a presence in her life, she couldn’t believe there were large periods of time where they hadn’t spoken. Yet, when they’d finally reconnected, it’d been like they had never stopped talking.

  Jackson might not know it, but he’d gotten her through quite a few years of college and after where she hadn’t known what she was doing. She’d never given in and told him how much he meant to her as a friend. That would definitely give away her femininity. Guys just didn’t espouse that huggy-huggy attitude.

  Thinking back over their numerous conversations and everything leading up to and surrounding CJ180d, Cady cocked her head. Did she still believe the way he did? Did she still support the same things he and she had talked about? There were so many. Sometimes, they would just type things to vent.

  Out of the dozens and dozens of beliefs they shared, she couldn’t pick any one that stood out more than any other. If she did still believe some of them, she wouldn’t have started a family. She would have terminated the pregnancy before she’d let a life get in the way of her plans or add to the problems of the planet.

  She drew her eyebrows together and pursed her lips. She wasn’t the same kid. When push came to shove, she hadn’t been willing to have an abortion. That was when her real beliefs had come more into focus. She’d always gone along with Jackson because she liked to believe she was more science than theology, more logic than emotion. But facing motherhood, her true identity had shifted. She’d gone from pro-choice to pro-life, from a more liberal perspective to a more conservative standpoint.

  The change had been so subtle, she could only see the switch as sh
e looked back over her life. She’d started dressing more modestly, talking less brashly, and she’d begun listening to others. True, she’d dropped her brazen side, but she’d become softer, more nurturing. And dang, if she didn’t own a few guns. She didn’t know how to use them yet, but prepping without an arsenal wasn’t acceptable. Like Prepping 101 included three sections – food, supplies, guns. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

  If Jackson knew about her guns, he’d probably freak out. He didn’t know she lived in north Idaho. What would he say to that?

  But Jackson had never considered that she might have changed because she’d never given the impression that she could. And she wasn’t sure she was comfortable with the open fact that she had changed. Looking at her life, she had to ask herself if she was she better off the way she’d become or would she have been better off staying the path Jackson still walked?

  If she still believed the way Jackson did, she wouldn’t live in a big house with the carbon footprint of a dinosaur. So many things in her current life would be drastically different. She wouldn’t be with Zach and she’d probably live in a large city, working to eliminate some danger, working to uphold some cause.

  The realization that she’d changed so much was sobering. Would Jackson consider her a liar? A hypocrite? Was she a fraud? Based on all of their conversations she couldn’t believe some of the things they’d actually talked about, actually considered.

  Cady couldn’t help thinking that she’d morphed into one of the people they’d assigned as “deserving” what they got. If what she’d said in the past with Jackson was true, did Cady deserve to die?

  Thinking back, that’s what all of their plans had centered on. Getting the end the world deserved. Eradicating those who were causing the earth more pain than they had the right to. So many wrongdoers and so little justice. They’d always just wanted justice, and death had seemed like the ultimate punishment.

  Maybe she did deserve death. Maybe she deserved everything they’d ever talked about.

  An inkling of fear crept through her. If she got even a fraction of the pain and destruction they’d discussed, she’d never survive it all.

  Chapter 3

  Jackson

  Running his fingers through the short hair along the side of his head, Jackson sneered at the family sitting at the end of the public transportation bus. Jackson would have just ridden his bike the hour to the office, but the slush and ice weren’t easily managed by his mountain bike and he didn’t have the time or desire to have to deal with getting splashed with dirty, freezing mud he’d have to clean up.

  As if the crowded transportation wasn’t bad enough, Jackson had to inhale the unwashed scent of the masses which was a combination of day old sautéed onions mixed with a fruity aftertaste like that of overripe bananas sitting in the sun.

  The family at the back was probably the worst of the group he had to sit with. The children were loud, impolite, making constant noises like that of a flock of squawking parrots stuck in a cage.

  Jackson couldn’t be sure, but he was pretty sure he’d caught the youngest boy picking his nose more than once. The germs he had to be spreading with his grimy hands would be uncountable and untrackable.

  Every few seconds, Jackson stared at the mother as if to make a point, to draw her attention to what was happening around her. She sat on the bench seat, staring out the window. Jackson wouldn’t blame her for getting lost somewhere else, somewhere she didn't regret her life or her choices. There was no evidence of a father figure and the woman had no wedding ring on her finger – or any fingers. Everyone once in a while the mother would glance toward the front of the bus, as if checking they were still on route before going back to staring out the tinted glass.

  One of the children – Jackson didn't care which one – threw something in a random direction. A solid thud came from the window by Jackson's head. Slowly, Jackson turned his head to the side, arching an eyebrow at the sight of a rubbery-looking sticky hand clinging to the glass of the bus.

  Eyeing the offending item, he cast a glare toward the group of children. While holding eye contact with the oldest boy, Jackson reached up and ripped the toy from the window. He mashed the mushy item in his palm, refusing to grimace at the sensation in his hand.

  The taller girl approached, a gentle smile showing braces. With more freckles across her nose than anywhere else, she reached up and tugged on the sloppy braid trailing over her shoulder. “Can I have the hand back, please?”

  Jackson offered a tight smile as he considered what would happen if he yelled no at her and threw the hand out the window. One, he’d be littering and that was a cardinal sin to him. Two, he didn’t need to draw unnecessary attention toward himself. He had to stay under the radar to keep his plans in motion. Without further thought, Jackson handed the blue toy to the girl. The only consolation he had was that she replied with as many manners as she’d requested the hand.

  Too bad all the children in the world couldn’t be polite. That was something that could be directly blamed on the parents. If the children weren’t being raised right, then the parents needed to be punished. Obviously, discipline was lacking somewhere and it seemed to disintegrate in the generations following the second world war.

  Unfortunately, that meant that all the people in the world needed to die. Of course, the statement was such a simplistic, blanketing assertion. Jackson had taken years to come to that conclusion. Not just the offenders needed to die. Everyone. Sometimes he believed he did, too. Sometimes, he woke up in a cold sweat at what the term “everyone” entailed.

  During the harsh light of day, he couldn’t deny the earth needed a fresh start and even with half of the population, the world was too far gone. He believed that. His own humanity needed him to acknowledge that it wouldn’t be an easy mission to undertake. Once he did, everything would be so much easier. Maybe it was the reality that asserted itself over his enthusiasm.

  While he chose to live alone, he still had the option to go out and find someone else. Once he put his plan into place, he would take that choice away. Staring at the family, Jackson remembered why he chose to be alone, why he chose to follow the path he’d started.

  Offering grace to the brats on the bus wasn’t that much of a hardship. Not when he could take solace in the fact that they’d be dead before the nation’s birthday.

  The bus came to a stop and Jackson dismounted. He zipped up his coat and pulled his fleece balaclava into place. He didn't cast a second glance at the children or the mother. He didn't care enough.

  They were just blips in an otherwise overpopulated world. Jackson didn't want to have anything more to do with them.

  He’d finally realized and accepted that people were a blight on the world. People were destroying the awe-inspiring creation that the world was. He didn’t believe in creationism and he didn’t believe in the Big Bang. Somehow, the world had come about and he was going to make sure the world was saved.

  Even if he had to go down with the rest of the people. The less contact he had with them, the happier he would be.

  White slushy snow sucked at the tires as the bus pulled away. He waited for the bus to pass, waving his hand at the explosion of diesel exhaust toward his face. The black inkiness dissipated into the air, leaving an acrid smell behind.

  Deep in his pockets, Jackson found his gloves. He pulled them on and set his jaw to the side, adjusting the backpack on his shoulder and shrugging on the last strap. He was in for a hike and he’d do better to make sure everything was in place before heading off. His home wouldn’t be as warm as the houses lining the street.

  Once everyone was dead, there wouldn't be any more pollution. Plants and animals could return to their rightful places and nature could destroy the cement structures which had obliterated natural ecosystems.

  The bus had dropped him off at the last stop in town on the corner of Main Street and nowhere. He walked on the sidewalk headed away from the buildings and fences. His steps took him further a
nd further from civilization. He didn't believe in private transportation… At least he refused to use it until there were no more buses to take him where he wanted to go.

  But, oh how much he longed to climb into the privacy of his own vehicle which would be completely sterile and minus the annoying presence of any parasitic human beside himself. Maybe he would get a car before the end so he could tour his destruction and take it all in.

  He avoided kicking a pinecone frozen into a patch of ice which marked the transition from the paved sidewalk to the shoulder of the road. The gravel rolled off the black, shiny surface which only proved that it was actually chip sealed.

  Snow had been plowed to the edges of the road in a graceful pile that led the way to the end of the pavement. He continued walking until the plowed road turned into track-riddled snow. The presence of the wide, rocky path about fifteen feet away from the shoulder was hidden behind the snow berm. The snow-hidden trail narrowed to a faint presence of footprints Jackson followed as he stepped into the barren bushes to cover where he’d been. In the summer there was so much dirt everywhere, and while he didn’t like being dirty, Jackson loved that it was even less evidence he’d been there.

  His backpack slapped the lower indent of his back as he climbed over the bushes and snow. Down a slight decline, he clamored until the path evened out to a more manageable grade.

  Jackson still hadn’t decided if he was going to be the only person left alive or not. He didn't know what it would be like to see dead bodies all over the place or even how long he would be able to last by himself. Being alone was appealing, but out of choice. Once he set destiny into motion, there would be no other option than for it to go forward. Surviving was an option he would have, something no one else would.